#not a sentence i thought id ever say

[3lisiaowo]

*flips table aggressively* MODERN ROBB HOLDING A VIBRATOR AGAINST YOUR CLIT, WATCHING YOU SQUIRM AND WHINE AFTER YOU TRIED TEASING HIM AT WORK!!

*aggressively taps credit card against now broken table* MUMMA NEEDS!! NEEDS I SAY!!

[mogielnik]

today I learned that on tumblr majority of content under m jak miłość tag are gifs from one cpr fetish blog

[sweetmage]

I am supposed to be cleaning in preparation for my partner to visit in a few days but instead I am infodumping to them about the Sebastian Vael consumption au

[lostghost-skull]

my history professor and the professor that uses the lector hall before us are flirting via Cold War propaganda lesson plans.

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)

It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!

And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The friend

Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.

To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.

It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.

Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.

Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.

Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.

Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.

Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.

When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.

~~~

"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.

Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.

"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.

"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.

Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.

"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.

The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.

"He's the idiot who let you go."

~~~

Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.

"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.

Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.

"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.

"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.

"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.

"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.

"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.

Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.

"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."

~~~

Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.

Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.

She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.

Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.

She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?

"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.

"I never fell asleep," she whispered

The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.

"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.

"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.

"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.

"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.

"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn

"Do you know who it is?"

"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere

"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek

He nervously laughed

"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.

"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.

"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.

"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged

"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.

"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.

"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.

"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."

Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye

It was Eddie

Eddie had a crush on her!

"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up

But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.

After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.

Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.

Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.

"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.

"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs

"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded

"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[lullalbee]

✰ Shared Thoughts ✰

A Francis Mosses x GN!reader, chapter 1

Warnings: Gets steamy but no smut, no pronouns for reader but afab anatomy is used, francis calls reader ‘darling’, he also pleads for like one sentence ik you guys like that, not proofread <3 this is so bad and so self-indulgent i'm so sorry

Word Count: 1.7k

The tenant grumbled, barely keeping open your tired eyes, latching onto your ID and entry request as you waited for your turn to be interrogated just so you could be let into your own home. For a while, you thought the precaution was stupid until you experienced a “code red” for yourself. Typically, you were amongst the last to arrive at the apartment building, considering you worked late nights, almost every night. You didn’t mind it, really, as you had lots of free time living alone, so that meant you were home during the early hours of the day when most tenants had left and wouldn’t return home for a few more hours, and by that time, you’d be gone yourself.

You knew today would be especially tough entering the building, as you were called in to work suddenly, so you couldn’t put in a request in time to be put onto the list for today. Once it was your turn, your trudged along to the window, passing in your papers through the metal slit.

“Why aren’t you on the list?” The doorman asked, brows furrowed, clearing searching for any signs the tenant was a doppelgänger. “Got called into work suddenly, wasn’t able to put my name on the list.” You explained, voice as monotone as ever. The doorman nodded, checking over a few things and making a phone call, before finally letting the tenant in.  You gave a small thanks, grabbed your papers back, and walked through the door. Sighing, you stepped into the elevator, ready to press the “four” button.  As you stepped back against the elevator, all your thoughts and anxieties began surfacing, most of them being of doppelgängers. What if the doorman let in one, killing us all? You didn’t doubt their abilities, but the thought always crossed your mind, with how often the alarm went off.  The elevator stopped with a ding! on the second floor, letting in another tenant of the building, Francis Mosses. 

You thought of yourself as fairly close with Francis. A lot closer than the typical tenants are with the others. You two enjoyed each other's company, giving small hello’s as you passed by, small talk exchanged whenever he’d deliver the milk you’d ordered. There were a few times, as well, where you hung out at the other’s place, your shared exhaustion over your careers being a driving factor in the start of your friendship.  Now and then, in the pits of night, you found your mind drifting to the thoughts of Francis. How his bicep flexed as he lifted up the milk carrier, his button-up shirt tightening ever so slightly around his arms and elbow, leaving little to the imagination. Or how his sensual, monotone voice sent shivers down your spine.  But your relationship was purely platonic of course. These feelings would never be acted upon nor would they be reciprocated… “Hello…? Earth to Y/N?” You were snapped out of your thoughts as the familiar voice filled your ears.   “Huh? Oh, sorry…” You mumbled, chuckling awkwardly. “Just.. tired from work.” I was totally not thinking about you… You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, both out of embarrassment and just from him looking at you.

“Mmm… Okay…” Francis nodded, albeit suspiciously. You prayed he didn’t notice the blush, and if he did, won’t say anything about it. Hopefully, he was up for as much conversation as you were at the moment… God knows what you would do to just lay down and take a nap right here. You both stood in awkward silence, avoiding eye contact before Francis got off on the next floor. You breathed a sigh of relief, mentally berating yourself for allowing that to happen. Once the elevator stopped on your floor, you bolted out and headed immediately to your apartment. There was always something so eerie about the hallways that made you want to be in them as little as possible. You struggled a bit with inserting your keys into the keyhole, but eventually, they implied and allowed you in. Closing, and locking, the door behind you, you breathed out, not even aware you were holding your breath.  You looked around your apartment, everything in the same place as it was before. Good. No doppelgängers have been in your home. The apartment was rather small, but that’s alright since you were the only person here. It was cozy that way. Trudging through the tiny hallway, you made it to your room, changing out of your work clothes and into some more comfortable ones. Immediately, you plopped down onto the bed and began drifting off to a dreamless sleep.  …Was that the sound of the phone? Well, it’ll be alright…

After what felt like only a few minutes, you heard someone knocking at your door, rather quickly. Begrudgingly, you sat up and got out of your bed, combing through your hair with your fingers to try to smooth down any bed head that developed in the small frame of time you were sleeping. You stood up, attempting to make yourself slightly presentable. Making your way to the door, you glanced at your rotary phone which sat on a small table next to the couch. You paused for a moment, wondering if the ringing you heard was real, but shrugged, assuming it was nothing.  You looked through the peephole of your door, spying the one and only Francis Mosses, at your door. He wasn’t in his usual milkman garb, but rather some common, everyday clothes. Quickly, you unlocked your door, opening it to greet Francis. “Oh, hello.” You gave him a soft smile, cocking your head slightly. “Are you off the clock?” “Yeah, my uh- my shift ended not too long ago.” He swallowed, nodding. “Wanted to check on you, you seemed real exhausted earlier.” “Well, you did just wake me from a life-saving nap, but that's alright.” You quip, giving him a smirk as you move out of the doorway, allowing him in.

“Oh, I’m- I’m sorry, I can go–” “No, no.” You shake your head, furrowing your brows. “Stay, please.”  He smiled at you, seemingly relieved you didn’t let him go. Internally, you were screaming, he never showed up to your apartment unless you had a pre-planned hang-out session, or he was doing his rounds, delivering the milk.  “Do you want anything? A snack, or…” You ask him, walking towards your tiny kitchen.  “Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.” He said in that monotone voice that made your knees turn to jelly. Francis went and sat on the couch, you following close behind. “I, uhm.” He began, looking away. “I wanted to talk to you… I’ve been, thinking a lot. Since we talked in the elevator.”  Oh fuck, he’s so creeped out by me, isn’t he, you panic internally, but barely manage to scrape together your composure. “Oh- I’m sorry, about that I–” You started before he interrupted you.  “I’ve been thinking about… you specifically.” He gulped, causing your heart to race. “Now, you can slap me if you think I’m creepy or anything, but I’ve thought about just us in general for a while, long before the elevator. Y/N, I–” He grabbed your hand, looking you in the eyes, his own clouded with infatuation and something else you couldn’t quite make out. Before he could finish his sentence, you cupped his cheek with your free hand and kissed him with so much desperation your teeth clinked together. He was taken aback by this, not reciprocating, causing you to panic and think you misread the situation so you pulled back, breathing heavily. “Fuck, did I- Did I fuck that up? Oh my god, I’m so–” He cut you off with a kiss of his own, holding the back of your head with his hand, keeping his grasp on you as he kissed you with a lot more passion and less desperation than the first. Immediately, you kissed back, snaking your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss.  He broke the kiss first, to catch his breath. You smiled at him, letting out a small laugh. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that.”  “Oh, but, I think I do,” Francis smirked, eyes darkening. “I’m a lot more perceptive than I think you realize. I’ve seen the glances you’ve stolen.” This caused you to blush and cover your face, burrowing into the crook of his neck. He maneuvered his head to give you a small kiss on your own, still smiling. “It’s cute, ‘loved knowing at least one person was paying attention to me.” He chuckled as you raised your head, still blushing fervently. He leaned in for another kiss, but this time it was much more needy, resting one hand on the nape of your neck and the other on your hip. Your hands entangled themselves in his hair, pulling your bodies as close together as possible. 

“I’ve thought of you, so many nights.” You whispered between kisses. “Trust me, me too, darling.” Francis groaned, biting down on your lip. You decided to tease him and keep your mouth closed. In turn, Francis snaked the hand on your hip up under your shirt, causing shivers to be sent up your spine, as you moaned into the kiss, which Francis took as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring every crevice he could, mapping and memorized the sensation.  You tugged on his hair, causing a moan from him to vibrate through you as he explored the inside of your mouth, your arousal growing further in your core. He cupped your breast through your bra, causing you to break from the kiss for a moment and moan his name, him looking at you, pleadingly, for consent to go further. You gave him an over-enthusiastic “yes” just before you kissed him again, but before either of you could continue further on, a loud ring ran through your house, coming from the doorbell. Whimpering a little, disappointed you had to pause your wonderful makeout session with Francis Mosses, you stood up, smoothing out any wrinkles on your clothes. Heading towards the door, you ponder over who it could be. You knew you shouldn’t have any visitors today, and you certainly weren’t close enough with your other neighbors for a surprise one. As you leaned up to peek through the peephole, all you were met with were eyes just like your own, a face sculpted just like yours, with the most sinister smile plastered on. It was your doppelgänger.

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 comparing you to their ex

✰ pairings: ot8 skz x fem!reader

✰ genre: romance, lots of angst

✰ warnings: cussing, skz mentioning reader’s insecurities, skz being red flags, slight mentions of manipulative behaviour, hints at cheating but no cheating, mentions of breaking up ( ikk it’s a lot because i just can’t fathom the fact that it’s been nearly 3 months since i last wrote angst )

✰ word count: 2.6k+ words i will better myself

౨₊ৎ chan

“i don’t get you these days,” you scoff over the call as you remind yourself of the main reason why you even bothered in the first place to get him a tub of ice cream in hopes that when he arrives back home he can rest and dig in.

“there’s nothing to understand babe. i told you that i can’t come home today,” the words slip out of his mouth without hesitation and the tone so casual that it makes you stare at his caller id in disbelief.

“i thought you were in the car on your way home?” you mutter nervously.

“i lied. i didn’t want to worry you plus there’s too much work baby. can you please try and understand that, hmm?”

“this won’t work on me. you lied chan! why would you lie? you could’ve just told me and i wouldn’t have wasted my time setting the couch and deciding on movies and buying you ice creams!” you sigh deeply.

“see? this is why i lied. because i knew you would scream at me when it isn’t even my fault,” you remain silent after hearing his words and there’s still evident clicking of keyboard from the other side.

“why are you trying to put the blame on me? chan it’s fucking 2 am and this is not the first time i had to stay up waiting for you to get back just for you to not come home!”

“who told you to wait? sleep for all i care! at least my ex didn’t bother me like this,” he mumbles but it’s hard not to hear him when your ears are just waiting for any sort of apology, instead they are welcomed with this.

“wow, thank you for telling me your true feelings. make sure you go back to her,” there is sarcasm in your words, but it’s only meant to hide the real fact of how bad it hurt you and maybe he knows it or maybe he doesn’t.

“baby i–” you end the call and before you know it, the tears start to flow down your cheeks.

just when did things go so wrong?

౨₊ৎ minho

he knew how easy it was for you to be overwhelmed. it was unfortunately not that easy to comfort you since nothing would make you feel better. but minho was there. always. he would sit beside you for hours and talk endlessly until a word that escaped his mouth would lift the corner of your lips.

it always felt so much better when you had someone helping you deal with your problems. it reassured you that someone truly did have your back. you couldn’t be any more thankful for having met lee minho.

it had been a few hours since you had locked yourself in your room, call it childish but being alone helped you gather your thoughts. while you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, minho kept banging on the door impatiently.

“open the door! stop being so immature and just open the door!” he yells as he starts to bang harder making you flinch at the action. with a defeated sigh, you get up and unlock the door before coming face-to-face with a flush faced sweaty minho. he stares at you angrily and grabs your wrist a bit too tightly before doing a quick scan of your body for any signs of injuries.

“do you even know how worried i was? gosh how can you even be so careless? i don’t think that i’ve ever seen my ex act that way,” the last part of the sentence is quieter as he trails off when the realisation strikes him.

“say that again,” you say, as if daring him to repeat his words. he looks away before muttering.

“i’ve heated up food for you, go eat it.”

“stop trying to change the topic! i heard you mention her loud and clear,” he groans at your words and looks back at you.

“so what if you heard me? i didn’t mean it and you know it,” he mutters and tries to grab a hold of your hand but you slap his hand before it can touch yours.

“i don’t think so i know it anymore minho. where is the guy i fell in love with? he would think at least a thousand times before saying something as hurtful as this,” you chuckle bitterly and walk past him.

maybe eternally was just a word meant for the world of fiction.

౨₊ৎ changbin

as soon as changbin’s feet crossed the line of the entrance to the apartment, his brows furrowed upon witnessing the messiest house. the smell of stale vegetables made him scrunch his nose in disgust and he covered his mouth with his hand before trying to search for you.

there you were, scrubbing the glass table vigorously and he sighed, “seriously?”

“what?” you look up at him in confusion making him look away.

taking a deep breath he looks back at you, “can i not expect the house to be in safe hands for even a day?”

“binnie it’s not like that i just—“

“i don’t want to hear your excuses anymore! we divided the chores equally then why don’t you do your part properly? i wish my ex had been here,” he spats and before you know it he bumps his shoulder against yours before walking away. not one ounce of regret.

all you wish was to turn back the time.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

“you’re being dramatic hyunjin. i’ll be fine, besides i have my friends with me,” you try to reassure him but he wouldn’t budge even an inch from his firm decision.

“ the one who flirts with you? that friend?” he scoffs as if you just said something ridiculous.

this wasn’t the first time where hyunjin acted as if his words were meant to be obeyed. but he did very much mind the fact that you trusted some guy over him. no matter how hard you explain, he just finds one or the other way to insult your friend.

“don’t say that! you don’t know him that’s why you say it.”

“ i don’t care! i have no interest in knowing anything about him. don’t you think you’re being a little too carefree around him? i know guys like him pretty well,” he mutters while glancing up at you.

“stop behaving like you know everything!” you yell and glare at him. the remaining patience left in you had all reached the saturation point.

“stop being so damn adamant! that guy is no good! he’s trying to steer us away, if my ex was here she’d choose me over him,” he confesses and you can feel your heart drop and that feeling of suffocation begins to engulf you.

“right now i’d choose him rather than choosing you,” you spat and look away without letting him speak any other word.

perhaps even love marriage no longer reminded you of the good choices.

౨₊ৎ han

“do you think any girlfriend would trust their boyfriend around his ex?” you spoke as you followed him around the apartment as he picked up his things and placed them in his backpack.

“i think yes,” he mutters and glances at you for a second before looking away.

“well i don’t! she’s a manipulator jisung, listen to me! stop believing her lies!” you plead trying to remind him how bad she was.

“babe, you’re clearly exaggerating the situation! she’s just my client and i have to attend to her for today,” he sighs exasperated and rubs his temples in frustration.

“jisung… look i know it’s for your work but tell me how and when did she become your client? because for as long as i know your ex used to be a hairstylist,” you try to convince him to believe you but he does not even give you a glance.

he just sits on the couch with his legs crossed and his left arm rubbing his temples, his eyes are shut and his face is lowered, so you can’t predict what he’s thinking right now.

“babe, she’s my client, that's all i know and all i care. if she wasn’t my ex i’m sure she wouldn’t be that insecure in this situation,” he snapped, annoyance written bold on his forehead as he stared at you. all you could do was bite your lower lip and try not to give in to your mind telling you to cry. you couldn’t be any weaker, could you? you shouldn’t cry on these small things, you try to convince yourself but the way his expression does not falter makes your heart ache a little more.

“wow jisung, you’re so cool for using my weaknesses against me,” you mumble and stare at him blankly. your sentence was formed as if it were a joke, but there wasn’t any smile on your face. he looked up at you expectantly, that you were finally going to let him go.

so you did.

you let him go for good.

౨₊ৎ felix

“why are you doing this?” you sigh as you watch him browse through his wardrobe.

“you’re guilty and you have no right to say that,” he scoffs and continues to search for something particular in his wardrobe.

“where’s my brown hoodie?” he questions, turning around to look at you expectantly. his eyebrows are raised and there’s not the familiar expression of playfulness in his eyes anymore.

you gulp and lean against the wall, trying not to portray that the situation was that serious, “i don’t know,” you shrug and look down at your nails.

“you don’t… know? are you being for real right now?” he snaps and your gaze switches to him.

“stop yelling, i’m standing right in front of you,” you warn him with a defiant look in your eyes.

“fine, sorry. will you please tell me where all my hoodies are?”

“they’re in my wardrobe,” you mumble and watch as his gaze hardens back again, which makes you internally groan. just why were the two of you fighting over this stupid matter?

“babe please! i’ve told you a hundred times that the brown one was my favourite and i don’t like anyone wearing it. if my ex was here she wouldn’t have done this,” he ran a hand through his hair growing frustrated that you both didn’t understand each other.

“look it’s just that i don’t like it when someone does what i clearly told them not to,” he sighs and presses his face in his hands and lets out a muffled groan.

a minute of silence was all that was heard before you took your cue to speak, “it’s just a hoodie lixie, you didn’t have to take it this far,’’ the tears came as quickly as they fell. you had grabbed your coat and bag, heading for the door. you didn't think anything else could hurt you. but you were wrong.

he just stared down at the floor unmoving, he had no clue what to do anymore. all the time he spent courting you, all the flowers he brought you, were they nothing?

౨₊ৎ seungmin

“um, miss? the restaurant will be closing soon, we’re so sorry. would you like us to book you a cab?” you glance up at the waiter and shook your head with a tight smile on your face before heading out.

the night was surely chilly, but you didn’t care. at least not when you dolled up just for kim seungmin to not show up. it was supposed to be a dinner date with just the two of you as it was your third anniversary. three years of the two of you dating. three beautiful years… coming to an end?

you were tired. tired of constantly checking on seungmin just for him to hand up on you. tired of constantly worrying when he’ll come home just for him to say sorry everyday. tired of being played by his lies and broken promises. you were extremely tired and torn apart.

“babe-!” seungmin panted as he jogged up to you, the sight breaking your heart even more. it would’ve been better if he didn’t come looking for you. maybe then your heart wouldn’t hurt to say no to him next time.

“i’m sorry! i came here as soon as i got done,” he huffed and you threw him a quick glance. judging from the way he is breathing heavily he really did.

“clearly,” you mumble and look away, not giving in to him this time.

“baby, my boss held me back. you know how he acts during the end of the month, right?”

“no i don’t. and seungmin stop making excuses. if you wanted to, you could’ve told him or at least informed me? i was sitting in the restaurant for 3 hours looking like a total joke! do you enjoy this? enjoy making me suffer?” you yell and shrug his hand that was on your shoulder.

“don’t be like that, come on. i said i’m sorry. forgive me please?” he mutters and smiles a bit, in hopes you would say yes.

“i’m done with this,” you retort and begin to walk away but halt upon hearing him.

“dammit! i’m a grown ass man and i have a job that pays me! the same job that lets us eat! it’s just one date we can reschedule it next month as well! why do you have to be so stubborn all times? my ex would have more understanding in this situation,” he scoffs and you turn your head to stare at him with bloodshot red eyes.

“why did you have to make me fall in love with you?”

౨₊ৎ jeongin

there’s a soft smile plastered on your face as you knock on the door to jeongin’s dorm along with his members. the two of you had been dating for just over a year now and things were going pretty smoothly.

the door opens and you’re welcomed by felix’s wide grin as he pulls you in, “hey! you’re here!” you nod and give into his enthusiasm before looking around.

“jeongin’s inside,” felix chuckles when he notices you glance around the house, “what are you waiting for? you can go,” you smile sheepishly at his words and glance at the small bag food that you held in your hands before knocking on his door.

jeongin opens the door and you smile up at him but your smile falters when there’s no signs of happiness in his eyes. he just looks tired.

“why are you here?” he questions with eyebrows furrowed as he glances at the box in your hand and then back to you.

“i thought since you didn’t have lunch maybe we can have it together,” you mutter and lift the bag and show it to him but all he does is look at it blankly before scoffing.

“i told you i wanted to be alone!” he whisper yells and glances around the house. with a reluctant sigh he pulls you in the room and closes the door.

“jeongin… i wanted to be there for you baby,” you mumble and still try to muster a smile.

“well i didn’t want that! do you ever listen to anyone except you? i see you everyday! every single day! what else do you want from me? can’t i spend a day without you clinging around? i wish i never broke up with my ex,” he glares accusingly at you and you clutch the bag in your hands tighter as if it would decrease the pain.

“thanks for telling me i guess. at least i’ll know now whether you were faking it or not,” you head for the door before he can say anything.

“i’m sorry–” his words are cut when you leave the room and fling the door close in anger.

[cy-cyborg]

Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

[prosciuttoon]

Toshiro/Shuro is overhated

(mirror of my thread on twitter)

ever wanted to talk abt something so bad but u have so many thoughts so u cant even begin to organize a sentence. thats me abt shuro and its why i cant give my thoughts on him. i NEED to get this out of my system bc its takign up so much memory in my brain i need that space for thinking.

so i was really surprised to find so much hate for him even tho he seems pretty normal and rational out of the whole cast. ive deducted that its mostly abt his laios fight and that the ppl who hate him probably had bad experiences w social cues and relationships w neurotypicals bc of that. theres no way to avoid it bc its pretty much Right In Your Face that laios is ND. but thats not the only factor in why their relationship is rocky. its also the culture barrier. u have to understand toshiro was raised as JAPANESE NOBILITY ofc he would be a little conservative

also culture shock. idk if u know this but jp culture is very Mind Your Own Business like a lot of other asian cultures . ofc hes gonna be weirded out by a stranger invading his space. also his names not even Shuro. its just yt ppl not pronouncing his name right and settling for whats easiest.

img src: fan translation by savaralyn2 , i think its from the adventurers bible Complete Edition bc i dont remember it in the old one

ok you get the gist of the culture aspect of it. lets go into the ND/NT clash aspect of it. yes i understand its pretty hurtful to never be told when youre acting inappropriately. i am autistic too lmao. but you have to understand that shiro is one guy and he even does realize that repressing things is one of his fatal flaws. again. asian culture. non confrontational. that sorta thing. but these are genuine frustrations. if i were him id be annoyed too but id speak out about it. set boundaries. bc im blunt. shiros not. he was taught crazy strict manners (hierarchies, respect, politeness, etc).

his problem isnt ableism its a culmination of culture barriers, how he was raised to behave, and terrible lack of communication as thing caused by "all of the above" plus he just generally keeps to himself a lot which means repressing frustrations that will explode leading to a pathetic fistfight while hes starved, exhausted, and dehydrated. also. if he was ableist he would hate laios. he doesnt hate laios. at the end of the day, they are friends. NT and ND ppl can be friends u know. there will be rifts (like their fight) but you just have to communicate misunderstandings. theyre gonna be fine lol

anyways that was my whole spiel abt it. i think i got everything out that i wanted to? my head still feels a little full so i may add more later when i remember something

also i think its a little unfair to rule out the possibility of laios and him just being 2 very different kinds of ND bc its very common for misunderstandings to occur even then. EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT BUT WE NEED TO COMMUNICATE TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER! but for the sake of interpreting the Fight as a commentary on NT social rules and ND frustration, ill say toshiros NT. will we ever know? hes so far in the sidelines... youd really have to dig in the extra content to see the intricacies of his character.... please give him a chance

[beemovieerotica]

hey can you tell me how you got tested for OCD and/or started to think you had it?

yeeeess so it was literally 2018 when i was like "hm maybe i have OCD" to my therapist (who was not specialized in this) and she did not disagree with me and everything kind of clicked in that session between us when we both simultaneously realized a lot of my behaviors could be explained that way.

the hardest thing was that i'd already been diagnosed with generalized anxiety so like. "yes i obsess over conversations i've had or will have and repeat things over and over in my head" "yes i constantly check to make sure things are okay" "yes i hyperanalyze and hypercriticize myself" all got wrapped up in that.

i think the behavior that i actually brought up with that therapist that precipitated the realization was i started vacuuming a corner of my room repeatedly like over the course of several weeks, every day. just obsessively vacuuming this corner because i kept finding tiny cat litter crystals there from a previous tenant. i'd be literally picking it out of the carpet with my fingers with my head parallel to the floor just staring and trying to find these things for like an hour at a time. colossal waste of time. but it was "important." and i was finally like...THIS is excessive, right?

but i do a lot of things that are the opposite of "classic" OCD which confused me for YEARS - like i genuinely have such poor food hygiene and don't care about bodily fluids, i love touching sticky things, my personal things are poorly organized, my room was always a mess, etc etc.

i got officially evaluated when i went in for the psilocybin study (beginning of this year) where i met an OCD specialist for the first time who did this complete battery of questions with me. there were things i never realized were OCD for me:

very obsessed with parasitic insects and constantly checking for bedbugs and fleas even when i have no reason to suspect these things

constantly re-reading everything i write. 5x. 10x. saying whole sentences over and over in my head. the sentence is fine, i didn't make a mistake, but i just have to keep reading it to be 1000% sure.

rubbing my scalp a lot and pulling out random hairs on my legs, eyebrows, eyelashes

over-explaining so fucking much to be absolutely sure i'm not misunderstood or that someone can read bad intentions into what i'm saying. "predicting" conversations and anticipating entire lines of questioning and how i would defend myself. lol.

intrusive horror film-esque thoughts

being terrified as a child that i would be possessed by a demon if i yawned too wide - i had other extremely irrational superstitions that i would force on myself and try to live by for no reason, these started at like age 10

obsessions around my health (orthorexia, i've ping-ponged between various diets like vegan / gluten-free / vegetarian thinking that it would help me)

only ever felt normal when drinking. like i could just let go of the compulsions and anxiety while drunk.

it was really hard to even parse a lot of this out being 1) already anxious, 2) raised very religious, and 3) BOTH my parents and my older sister have OCD, so all this was just normal!! my mom also pulled out her hair. my mom and my sister also had eating disorders and very weird attitudes around medicine. superstitions and moral scrupulosity were encouraged in our community. i had no reason to think that any of this could all be linked back to an actual disorder.

i really wish i'd had intervention at least a decade or more earlier. this started when i was in grade school at least. it sucks. so much of the public perception of OCD is centered on the classic symmetry / cleanliness / hand-washing shit. it did not help that my family loved watching Monk when i was growing up so i was like "oh, i'm not like THAT" and never questioned it.

i think(?) i might go to the big OCD conference happening in the states next year, not sure, but i really want to talk to people about psilocybin. idk let me know if you have any other questions, i'm still processing a lot of this.

[mrdixon]

Work in Progress

pairing: pre-negan Alexandria Daryl x f!reader

wc: 8.1k (sorry.)

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p-in-v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), alcohol (sober sex.), mild swearing, some fluff,,,

summary: Your friends peer pressure you into asking Daryl out to the cookout that's taking place tonight.

A/N: this is like my first ever smut officially written and OH MY GOD im so sorry if its terrible i was cringing at some parts. sooooo cliche but i promise ill be better. i realize reading this back that so many of them are slightly out of character but ignore it, i was drunk writing half of this. i also never intended this to be that long and i freaked out reading the word count so. anyways i hope you enjoy and feel free to request anything more!! id be happy to write more for you all.

masterlist!

“I’m telling you, he likes you.” You roll your eyes from your spot at your desk after hearing Maggie’s comment, continuing to focus on your work rather than the idiotic conversation taking place.

“How and why would Daryl like me?” You ask and look up at your three friends Maggie, Carol, and Rosita. It’s like you can pinpoint the exact moment they all mentally facepalm at your question, “I’m just saying.” You mutter under your breath, looking back down at the plans for the reinforcement of Alexandria’s walls. The silence was too loud but you could tell the three of them were all glancing at each other while trying to figure out what to say to you.

“Well for starters, he visits you a lot.” Carol tried to reason, earning a scoff from you. “No I’m serious, he doesn’t even stay home that often. That prick has only stayed for food recently.” The corner of your mouth curls up slightly at her comment, still looking down at your notes.

“Plus he smiles a lot around you, I’ve never seen him smile that hard before… Let alone at all.” Rosita adds. You sigh, finally looking up at your friends and immediately getting startled by all of them looking towards you. You think about what Rosita said and contemplate it for a moment, well he has been hanging around you recently…

“Nope, no way.” They all audibly groan as they turn away from you, “besides. I don’t even like him like that.” Now that earns a scoff from them.

“Oh please. You can hardly keep eye contact with him, let alone speak coherent sentences when he’s around.” Carol retorts, tending to the carnations in a vase in the corner of your study room. You scoff again at the exaggerated example whilst shaking your head.

“Uh uh, I can keep eye contact with him. In fact I have no problem interacting with him because he’s just a friend.” You state bluntly before getting up and putting your notes into a folder behind your seat.

“Oh my god hey Daryl!” Rosita calls out, causing you to quickly fix your hair and spin around with a bright smile on your face. All just to slouch back down onto your chair once you realize it was just to catch you off guard. The three of them laugh silently to themselves while muttering a “we told you so” in unison.

“Fine. I guess I do like him but that does not mean I’m going to do anything about it.” You look down at your lap, hearing clothes shuffling from how quickly they all snap their heads in your direction.

“Why the hell not?” Maggie exclaims, “you know it’s nice. Being in a relationship, plus you guys complement each other well.

You sigh as you spin around in your chair, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “Well… Even if he does like me, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Bullshit.” Carol says bluntly before walking up to you, “just ask him out. He won’t say no.” You roll your eyes and spin away from her, staring at your wall.

Rosita spins the chair around back so you can face them, “Carol’s right. Daryl has been pining you for like months, maybe even years now.”

“How am I even supposed to ask him out? Like should I ask him to hang out like usual and pop the question or should I ask him to dinner?” You nibble at the end of your finger anxiously, even considering asking him out is terrifying.

“Oh! You should ask him out to the cookout tonight, it’ll be perfect.” Maggie grabs your hands excitedly, flashing her bright smile at you.

“Oh god no I’m not going.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Rosita grabs your hands, forcing you to look at her. You can tell she has an idea, one you won’t like.

“You are going. No questions asked, no objections. And you will ask him out.” You bite your bottom lip, “c’mon…. If you’re lucky you’ll get laid-” Maggie’s hand flies over Rosita’s mouth to stop her but the statement was already heard.

“I’m not going to fuck him on the first date!” You exclaim, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“It’s a date!” Maggie yells, Rosita says the same but muffled from Maggie’s hand over her mouth. You shake your head profusely, waving your hands around as you panic, not wanting to admit asking him out.

The door opens suddenly, all four of your heads snapping towards the door. A very confused Daryl pokes his head in, furrowing his brows at the scene. “Am I interrupting?”

Carol grabs Maggie and Rosita, dragging them towards the door. “Nope, in fact (Y/N) has something to ask you so we’ll leave you to it.” Carol grins “unsuspiciously” at him whilst dragging the other two out. Rosita mouths a “we’ll come back later” while exiting the room, Maggie giving a thumbs up. You groan, putting your head in your hands as you run your fingers through your hair.

You can hear heavy footsteps walk towards you, the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your desk before that familiar gruff voice speaks. “What was it that you wanted to ask?”

You lift your head to look at Daryl, your heart jumping at the close proximity you two were in. For a moment you contemplate whether to bail on the question or just go for it. You clear your throat, sitting up and crossing your arms, “are you going to the cookout tonight?” Quickly looking away in embarrassment. Nothing even happened yet.

He grunts, shifting in his seat. “Was just gonna go fer a little bit, don’ really feel like stickin’ around.” You nod slowly, muttering a mutual statement.

“Wanna go together?” You look up once more, mentally cringing and hitting yourself. For a moment you could swear his eyes lit up, he nibbled the inside of his bottom lip. A habit of his which you silently found endearing.

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” He grumbles, looking to the side. His hair falling over his face, you had an urge to reach up and brush it away but you held back, not wanting to be too bold. You hum silently, awkwardly shifting away from him in your seat.

“Oh, why’d you come here? Did you need something?” You look over at him, realizing he came here on his own free will. He clears his throat, brushing his bangs out of his face with his hand as he looks at you. Reaching into his pocket and handing you a little fox figurine, he had a slight smile on his face as he handed it to you.

You giggled, inspecting it as you held it in your hands. Unbeknownst to you, he was staring at you. Looking at your features and studying them, if someone walked in it would look as if he were a painter and you were his subject. “I jus’ found it on a run earlier, thought ‘cha might like it.” He murmured sheepishly, playing with his fingers.

You looked towards him, smiling at him with those eyes that made his heart skip a beat every time you even glanced in his direction. “I do like it, thanks Daryl.” You placed the figurine on your desk, next to a picture frame of you and the group. Daryl suddenly stood up, looking down at you softly before turning towards the door.

“I’ll pick ya up later tonight then?” He smiled slightly and you nodded, waving to him as he left. Once the door shut you spun around in your chair, your face heating up as you just processed everything that just happened. But now you were left to dread about the upcoming cookout in a few hours.

“No, not happening.” You crossed your arms at the dress presented to you by Rosita and Maggie. It was a very flattering dress for sure, it was a deep red colour, the length ended just above mid thigh, and the neckline was pretty low. It was something you probably wouldn’t ever wear, even pre-apocalypse. “Sorry Rosita but your style just doesn’t fit me. If anything, I’d like to try one of Maggie's dresses.” You shrug and Maggie stifles a laugh.

“Hun this is my dress.” She smirks at you while you frown, “farmer’s daughter can be pretty outrageous too y’know.” Rosita laughs, tossing the dress at you.

“At least try it on, just humour us.” Rosita mockingly pleads with you. Rolling your eyes you walk towards the bathroom with the dress in hand, hearing a quiet cheer from the both of them as you shut the door.

You stare down at the garment in your hands, trying it on couldn’t hurt… Right? You sigh, taking off your shirt and shorts before slipping the dress on. You audibly gasp at your reflection in the mirror, a hand going over your mouth. The dress hugged your body perfectly, it wasn’t tight but it fit in all the right places. You looked hot.

“Everything alright?” Maggie knocked on the door. You rushed over to the door, opening it.

“Dude…” You mutter in disbelief as you show yourself off to them. Maggie clasped her hands together laughing.

“Girl. If I wasn’t helping you get with Daryl I’d be all over you right now.” Rosita smirks, looking you up and down as you smack her shoulder playfully.

“Well are you gonna wear it or not? I think you should, if you have Rosita thirsting over you then imagine how Daryl is going to react when he picks you up like this.” Maggie giggles, fixing the back of your dress.

You bite your lip in thought, “I don’t know….” Rosita almost slaps you with how fast she turns around to grab you.

“Why not!? You look so fucking hot right now and I swear to god Daryl will think the same.” You laugh slightly at Rosita’s shock, Maggie murmuring agreement with her.

You let out a breath, shaking your head as you turn to the mirror. Fixing your hair a bit and brushing over the dress, a small smiling tugging at your lips as you nod. “Okay fine I’ll wear it, but only because I want to. Not because I want to impress Daryl.” Maggie rolls her eyes playfully as Rosita jumps up clapping.

“Okay well don’t let us bother you, and have fun tonight.” Maggie giggles, taking Rosita to leave, “not too much fun.” She jokes while winking and leaving the room causing you to shoot a glare at her as the door closes behind them.

You go to grab some small heels which surprisingly matches the colour of the dress and quickly look yourself over. Fixing your hair properly this time. Now all that’s left is to wait for Daryl to come pick you up… You take a deep breath, muttering a small affirmation before exiting your room and going downstairs to wait for Daryl.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting, a familiar three beat knock shatters your thoughts. Immediately standing up and walking over to the door, taking yet another deep breath before opening the door.

There he was. Daryl was standing there dressed in his normal attire but neater. His eyes widened at the sight of you, discreetly looking you up and down. A small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before averting his gaze after a moment, causing you to blush and look down at your feet.

“You look… great.” He breathes out, a small smile playing at your lips as you mumble a small thank you. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, not noticing the way his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you. He cleared his throat, moving to the side to let you exit your house, “well let’s get going then.”

You guys started walking towards the middle of Alexandria where the cookout was being held, you felt a bit nervous for tonight as you were worried about fucking everything up. You glanced up at Daryl who had a slight smile playing at his lips, you sighed softly as you looked back down. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You two walked in silence, the air was tense. Neither of you said anything before you got to the cookout. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw Carol cooking up some rabbit stew by one of the picnic tables. “I’ll be right back.” You muttered to Daryl, giving him a pat on the shoulder before darting towards Carol. Daryl stared after you for a moment, a slight frown on his face when you left him.

Carol shook when you approached her from behind and smacked a hand on her shoulder, placing down a large pot of soup as she looked at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that, I could’ve dropped that and I bet a lot of people here would be very mad at you for destroying everyone’s favourite rabbit stew in town….” You rolled your eyes, turning your head to find Daryl before nodding your head over to him. Carol narrowed her eyes confused as she looked at you, “you got a neck problem or something?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you muttered to her. “Daryl’s over there.” Her eyes lit up before immediately smacking you on the head, causing you to yelp and hit her back.

“What are you doing here with me? Go talk to him you idiot.” She grinned, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the pot of soup. Before you could argue she pushed you away, “go, I’m busy anyway.” She giggled as you glared at her, taking a deep breath and turning to walk in Daryl’s direction. He was over by the drink table, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. Your eyes traveled down to his throat in which his adam’s apple bobbed when swallowing the liquid, his bicep flexing when he moved his arm. You immediately shook your head to escape those thoughts and looked around to make sure no one was watching you practically drooling over him.

You took a deep breath before approaching him, a soft smile on your face as you looked up at him. He glanced down at you, his usual tough demeanour faltering and he flashed you a quick smile. “You wan’ a drink?” He offered, gesturing to the table. Your gaze moved towards the table, scanning over it before eyeing the bottle of red wine. He immediately followed, picking up a glass and pouring some for you. He shyly handed you the glass before taking your hand and dragging you along with him. The contact of his hand holding yours was enough to make your knees shake, looking at the back of his head as he led you through the crowd.

He finally let go of your hand once you guys got to a more secluded spot of the area, he took a seat by the tree nearby. You quickly followed suit, making sure to hold your dress down as you went to sit beside him, once you sat you took a sip of your wine to calm your nerves. He slowly shifted closer to you, taking his vest off and placing it over your lap which made you look up at him.

“Don’ wan’ anyone to look up yer skirt.” He mumbled, sitting back against the tree and taking a swig of his whiskey. You blushed, hiding your face by drinking some more of your wine. He noticed and chuckled a bit, tucking your hair behind your ear. He immediately retracted his hand, “sorry.”

You shook your head giggling as he watched you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s fine.”

“You really are pretty tonight.” He mumbled, clearing his throat as he looked you over again. You chuckle, placing your hand on his knee.

“Thanks, you look good too y’know. Clean.” He snorts at your statement, hiding a grin behind his glass. You try to grab his head and turn him to you, the both of you giggling as you quickly discard your glass of wine, the substance seeping into the ground beneath you.

“Stop hiding… You’re so cute when you smile.” You blurt out, causing Daryl to pause for a moment before scoffing and shaking his head. You were glad you drank, the alcohol probably aiding you with even looking at him. “You are.” You insisted, brushing his bangs out of his face.

He pulls back which makes your brows furrow together, worried that you may have made him uncomfortable. “Don’ say things like tha’.” He murmurs, only fueling your confusion.

You tilted your head to try and read his expression, but like always you couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking. He was hiding behind his hair again, you tried to reach up to brush it away. To look into those piercing blue eyes you grew to love but he backed away. “Stop, ya shouldn’. We shouldn’t.” He said gruffly. You frowned, moving closer to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, a twinge of hope in your tone as you placed a hand on his knee. He shifted away and cleared his throat, running his fingers through his hair.

“We shouldn’ do things or say stuff we don’ mean.” Your heart broke at his sentence. Maybe you were right, he didn’t like you like that. You moved away slightly, a gap in between the both of you as you sat in silence. You played with your fingers, a lump in your throat as you realized you probably made him uncomfortable. You beat yourself up mentally for being too bold with him, thinking about how you should’ve just stayed home tonight.

He glanced at you, nibbling the inside of his bottom lip before grunting, moving closer to you before speaking softly. “What I mean is, I don’t wanna do somethin’ you don’ want an’ scare ya off.” You looked at him, tilting your head as you bite the edge of your thumb.

You took a deep breath as you processed his words, still looking up at him as you narrowed your eyes questioningly. “I like ya, (Y/N).” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head as he again, shifted away from you. You said nothing for awhile which only piqued Daryl’s anxiety, making him wonder if you even heard him.

“I like you too.” You physically cringed hearing the words come out of your mouth, feeling like you were in middle school again. He chuckled, leaning back against the tree and staring up at the purple sky. You looked at him for a moment, the soft summer breeze was blowing his hair gently and causing it to occasionally fly into his eyes, giggling when he grunted about it. You also leaned against the tree, your head turned towards him the entire time as you stared at him with eyes he never thought would be directed towards him. He turned his head to look back at you, a soft smile playing at his lips before he opening his mouth to speak.

“Wanna get outta here?” Once you nodded he smiled, standing up and offering his hand which you gratefully accepted. He took his vest back and wrapped it around your shoulders to keep you warm which didn’t really help due to there being no sleeves, but the feeling of his affection did. You interlocked your fingers together with his as he led you through the crowd for the last time tonight, his heart skipped a beat when you initiated the hand holding and he felt a warm feeling in his chest. One he never knew he’d get to experience.

He eventually brought you over to his house in which he shared with Carol, letting you enter first as he came in behind you. His large hand lingering over the small of your back while you took off his vest, mumbling gratitude as you handed it back to him. He chuckled, placing the vest on the couch as he took a seat, gesturing for you to join him.

“Carol won’t be home ‘til late tonigh’, reckon it’s gotta do with the cookout.” He grumbled, watching you sit down. He took time to watch you, noticing the way more of your thighs were exposed when your dress rode up. He quickly averted his gaze, biting his bottom lip as he rubbed the scruff on his chin. You just nodded, silently leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

He laughed silently, “yer awfully quiet tonight. Why’d the sudden confession change the way you act aroun’ me?” You slapped his chest gently, hearing a quiet “there it is” from him as you lifted your head up.

“It’s just… different. I guess it’s just me seeing you in a different way, officially.” He snorted, glancing over at you. His eyes caught a glimpse of the low cut neckline of your dress, your cleavage practically flaunting in his face. His head shot up towards the ceiling, a gruff chuckle escaping him.

“What kinda way you see me before?” He grunts as he mocks your words slightly, you shake your head and placed your head against his shoulder once more.

“Never wanted to admit my feelings for you, not even to myself. I always just thought you saw me as a friend and nothing more.” You mumbled, absentmindedly tracing shapes into the back of his hand with your finger. He smiled at the gesture before looking up in thought.

“It was the same fer me.” He rubbed over his face with his left hand, “if you didn’ ask me out today I probably never would’ve.” You hummed softly in acknowledgement, silently happy you were literally peer pressured into asking him out.

His hand grasped yours, rubbing circles into your hand with his thumb, sighing softly. “I’d probably still be sneaking glances at you. Who am I kiddin’ I’ll probably still do that.” He chuckled softly as you grinned stupidly. His heart swelled at your smile. Wanting to see more of it he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it gently while you giggled at his stubble scratching against it. “I love the way you sound.” He added softly, looking at you with eyes you never knew was possible for him to make. This Daryl was way different from the one you met all those years back at the quarry, you weren’t complaining. You just hoped you’d be the only person he looked at this way.

You both sat in silence as you stared at each other, gradually leaning closer. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed against yours. The way his lips felt against yours was perfect, better than any pair of lips that fell upon your own. The kiss went on for awhile, it was soft, innocent. His hand moved to your cheek, tilting your head as he tried to deepen the kiss, his tongue prodding at your lips for entrance. You gratefully granted it and his tongue slipped into your mouth, the faint taste of whiskey and tobacco lingering on his tongue. You hummed into the kiss and felt his breath hitch from the vibration, reluctantly you both pulled back for air, your foreheads pressed together.

“Daryl… can we go to your room?” You broke the silence, feeling his hot breath against your face. He stroked your hair and pulled back with his brows furrowed.

“Ya sure…? I don’ wanna do anything you don’ want to do.” He was serious, looking into your eyes. Once you nodded he hesitantly grabbed your hand and gently guided you towards the basement where he claimed his bedroom. His hand no longer lingered on the small of your back, now fully pressing against it as he held your hand with his free one, guiding you down the stairs and into his bedroom.

He closed the door behind him, turning back to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips. He let out a shocked noise which you found cute, his arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed you back. The kiss quickly deepened, your tongues moving together in a sensual dance as he backed you up towards his bed, gently placing you down.

He pulled back, sitting next to you. You immediately sat up to try and kiss him again but he stopped you, “(Y/N), you drank earlier. ‘m not gonna do anythin’ if yer drunk, ya know that.”

You shook your head, moving closer. “I had two sips, barely enough to get me drunk. And I know I want this, especially with you. Only you Daryl.” You whispered, noticing the way his breathing became shallow as you moved closer.

“Ya sure? (Y/N), I need you to be absolutely sure. I—I don’ wanna hurt ya.” He nibbled his bottom lip anxiously. You placed a hand on his chest, your eyes clouded with desire, feeling the way his heart beat faster. He watched as you lowered your head towards his neck, kissing and licking the skin there, closing your eyes as he groaned quietly.

“I’m sure.” You whispered against his skin and caused him to shiver before he took you by the shoulders, pushing you onto the bed. No further words were needed as he started kissing your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. You shook underneath him as small pleas escaped your lips.

He growled quietly, nibbling you and leaving small bites on your neck, searching for one spot. You let out a louder than intended moan, there it is. There was one thing about Daryl, he was good at finding things. He continued to kiss and suck on the soft spot of your neck, quiet noises left your mouth almost pathetically as you fell apart underneath him. He pulled back to look at you, his breath hitching as he saw the state you were in. Your face was flushed, eyes closed, and your lips were parted. Red and swollen from your previous making out. You whined softly, raising your hands to try and feel him again. He swallowed hard. He barely even touched you and yet you were so… so needy.

“Jesus (Y/N)…” He muttered under his breath, lightly tracing over your knees before pushing them apart. Rubbing his chin as he stared down at you, grabbing you by your shoulders, “sit up girl.” He helped you sit up, kissing your lips softly before looking into your eyes once more. His hand moved to your back, playing with the zipper of your dress. He looked up at you for permission, you gave a nod and he smiled softly, kissing your temple before slowly unzipping your dress. He slowly slipped your dress down, kissing your shoulder gently as his left hand rubbed your knee comfortingly.

Soon he pulled your dress off, leaving you in your undergarments. His eyes traced over your body, thinking he’d never live to see this moment. You shivered as the cold air hit your body and he immediately encircled you, his arms moved around your body as he went to press his lips against yours once more.

Your eyes fluttered shut and giggled into the kiss when his stubble tickled you, his hand running through your hair gently. The feeling of his nails scratching your scalp made you shiver excitedly. Gently, his hands moved down your body but they moved with hesitation. It was like he was treating you as if you were fragile and would crumble if he moved too quickly.

“Don’t hold back Daryl…” You whispered, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He nodded, looking back down as his hands moved with more force. He lightly traced over the straps of your bra, playing with the little bits of lace as he moved down to kiss your collarbone. His tongue darting out to lick over to the bra strap, kissing your shoulder before slipping the strap off your shoulder. All while glancing up at you to make sure there were no signs of discomfort, you looked back down at him and smiled softly causing his heart to skip a beat. He pressed another loving kiss to your lips before slipping the other strap off your shoulder, his hands moving behind you to unclasp your bra with ease. He tossed your bra onto the floor, backing up to look at you. After he said nothing you felt a rush of embarrassment, shyly covering your breasts from him.

“No, no, no…” He whispered, taking your hands and moving them to your side, “don’ hide ‘em. Yer beautiful.” He quickly kissed your cheek, then your chin, your neck, and then finally the valley of your breasts. You let out a soft whimper as his lips moved over to your left breast, kissing the flesh gently before parting his lips and placing it over your nipple. A shocked but pleased moan exited your mouth while his left hand moved to massage your other breast, his tongue swirling around. Your eyes fluttered shut when his mouth moved to give your other breast attention, your lips parted and let out soft gasps of pleasure. Your hand moved to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair and gripping it gently, causing him to grunt against you.

He moved back giving your chest one last kiss before unbuttoning his shirt, you reached up to help him. Hands shaking with anticipation as each button was undone, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor. He kissed you intensely, pushing you down onto the bed and pressing a knee in between your legs. Your hands moved to touch his chest, tracing over the scarred skin. He flinched back, suddenly self conscious about the scars all over his back and chest. You knew about his trauma, you were one of the only people he opened up to, but this was your first time seeing it. Noticing his anxiety, you leaned up on your elbows, tracing the scars gently. Pressing your lips against them, feeling his tense body relax under your touch, he let out a deep sigh as you showed affection towards him like this. Closing his eyes as his love for you only grew deeper, never in his life would he have thought someone would creep this deep into his heart.

He pushed you back, his lips finding yours as his hand lingered down over the waistband of your panties. You groaned into his mouth as his fingers slipped under and over to your wet pussy, his breath faltered at how wet you were. How eager you were for him.

“Daryl.” You breathed out when he parted from your mouth, his fingers gently rubbing your clit.

“Mm?” He hummed next to your ear, his middle finger dipping through your slick as he continued to rub your sensitive nub. A choked moan escaped you as he did this, his other hand running his fingers through your hair as he shushed you. “Easy…” You bit your lip as the hand in your hair left to pull your panties down, tossing it onto the floor to join the other clothes.

His fingers left you momentarily as he moved down the bed slowly to look at your glistening pussy. He placed a hand on your thigh, spreading your open further while you looked down at him. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, lips parted as your breathing came out shallow and ragged. He pushed his index finger past your folds, groaning at how wet you were as he teased your entrance. Your whining was enough to make him twitch in his pants, suddenly realizing how tight his pants felt. He let his index push into your entrance, feeling your tight walls convulse around the digit and hearing a moan escape you. He smirked from his place as he looked up at you, “alrigh’ up there?” Your eyes were shut tight while your brows were pressed together, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. He took your confirmation as a sign to start pumping his finger in and out of you, your legs shaking.

You were kind of embarrassed by how this man had you shaking just by one finger, but it’s been awhile since you’ve last done this with anyone. Plus it was Daryl fucking Dixon… You let out yet another pathetic moan, your hand coming up to cover your noises out of embarrassment. He stopped moving his finger and you whine, looking down at him. He had a frown on his face.

“Don’ cover yer mouth, lemme hear those pretty noises from you darlin’.” He drawled lowly, you whimpered as you slowly lowered your hand and he continued moving his finger. He eventually slipped a second into you, stretching you out. You threw your head back against the bed as you cried out in pleasure. After a moment he removed his fingers, only to replace it with something warm. You gasped out once you realized it was his tongue pressing against your clit.

“D—Daryl…” You stuttered, your fingers finding themselves in his hair. He lapped at your pussy, eating you out as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten in his entire life. Loud moans echoed through his room as you tugged on his hair, lifting your hips to grind against his face. He grunted against you, holding your hips with his large hands as he held you down, slurping up your arousal.

Moans kept spilling out of you as he kept sucking at your clit, feeling a familiar feeling building up in your stomach. You whimpered, pushing his head further down against you. “Fuck Daryl… I’m gonna…” You groaned when he slipped a finger into you again, his tongue still lapping at your clit, “I’m gonna cum.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge as another finger pumped into you. The amount of attention he was giving your pussy was overwhelming as his fingers curled inside of you, fingertips just barely brushing over your sweet spot. You mewled, pulling his hair hard as he curled his fingers again, sucking on your clit in the process. He could tell you were close and he pumped and curled his fingers faster, finally hitting that sweet spot inside of you. A loud moan spilling out of your mouth as your head pushed back further into the bed.

“Tha’s it… come fer me..” He mumbled against your clit, sending you over the edge and reaching that climax. Your fluids rushing onto his fingers, which he pulled out. His tongue darting towards your juices and licking it all up. You let out a small whimper as lewd noises of him slurping all your juices up rang through your ears. He licked you clean, lifting his head up and wiping his chin with his forearm, covered in your release. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. He licked his fingers clean, rolling his eyes back with a low groan. “So sweet…” He whispered, eliciting a whine from you.

He quickly started unbuckling his belt, needing to free his almost painful erection. You whimpered again, his hands twitching at the noise. “Daryl…” You whispered so desperately you normally would’ve been embarrassed, but the ache between your thighs and the desire for him was too strong for you to even care.

“Shh.. I got ya..” He whispered, moving closer to you as one hand gently caressed your cheek, the other continuing to unbutton his pants. He placed a sweet kiss to your temple while the hand on your cheek moved to push your hair out of your face. “So beautiful.”

He planted another kiss to your head before moving back to shove his pants down, you eyed the bulge in his boxers. You moved to sit up and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. He chuckled lowly, caressing your head as he looked down at you. His lustful eyes peered down at you as you looked up at him with your own desperate ones. Before you could pull him out of his underwear he stopped you, pulling back.

“Hold on.” He whispered softly, moving to his bedside table and rummaging through it. Your gaze followed him, crawling over on the bed towards him, “shit.” He muttered, a frown on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion, sitting on your knees as he went to cup your face. He kissed your lips sweetly, apologetically. “Sorry (Y/N)… I think we have to do this another time, I don’ got any condoms.”

You took his hands from your face, kissing his knuckles. Feeling his calloused fingertips run against your palms. “It’s okay… I don’t mind.” You said gently and looked down at his fingers laced with yours. His eyes widened and he frowned once again, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“Ya sure? I don’… I don’ think tha’s a good idea (Y/N),” he murmured softly. You sighed, lowering your hand to palm him through his briefs, earning a grunt from him as his hand gripped your wrist. You looked into his eyes, begging him to just continue without it. His grip on your wrist loosened and you continued to move your hand against him, a low groan escaping him. “(Y/N).”

“Please Daryl… I don’t care. Just pull out.” You pleaded with him, you just needed him inside of you. Feeling more aroused the more he kept you waiting. His bangs were over his eyes again, ”I’ll have to trim those soon.” You thought to yourself, he kept silent as if contemplating the idea. He nodded slowly, taking your chin and lifting your face to his before smashing his lips onto yours in a heated kiss.

His tongue met yours messily as he pushed you down onto the bed, his hands finding your breasts again. Kissing him was addicting, it felt right. You let out a small moan into his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. A low growl escaped him as he pulled back, slipping off his boxers. Your eyes travelled down to see his cock, your breath catching from how hard it was. Not to mention how huge he was. He groaned, taking hold of himself and stroking himself slowly to relieve some of that tension, precum starting to dribble out of his tip. You pulled him down by his neck, connecting your lips once more while you replaced his hand with your own. Jerking him off slowly as he groaned deeply into your mouth.

“Hol’ on baby.” He whispered sweetly, taking your hand away from him. He moved back, keeping his hands on your knees as you looked up at him. Your expression one of pure lust and desire, the dim light of his lamp highlighting your curves, your body scarred from past battles and years of being in the apocalypse. Your hair was perfectly splayed around the pillow framing your head and your lips were parted, swollen. The hands on your knees slowly pushed them apart, spreading you open for him. He groaned at the sight unravelling in front of him, his cock twitching as his gaze wandered down to your dripping cunt. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

His finger dipped down to touch your pussy as he jerked himself off slowly, a mewl spilling out of your mouth at the sensation. His touch was so light and delicate it almost hurt. “Daryl please.” You pleaded, not wanting to continue this any longer. You needed him inside of you. He got the memo, nodding while grabbing your hips with one hand as the other grabbed his dick and positioned it at your entrance.

“Fuck yer so wet.” He drawled, his tip running through your folds as you whined impatiently. He chuckled quietly, lowering his head to kiss your jaw, sucking gently. “So impatient.” He growled, kissing down your neck and over to your breasts. His tip pushing into you slowly.

You let out a cry as he slowly pushed into you, his thick dick stretching you, your walls convulsing around him as you struggled to adjust. He cursed into your neck, kissing the sweet spot on your neck while a hand moved into your hair to try and distract you from the pain. You whimpered, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on anything but the pain as he continued to push in slowly. He caressed your hair and kissed up your neck and over to your jaw, shushing you. Murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as he bottomed out, halting once he fully entered. You weren’t necessarily a virgin but the last time you’ve ever had sex was before the apocalypse, and he wasn’t as big as Daryl.

“Move.” You whimpered breathlessly, he looked up at you for confirmation and when you nodded he slowly pulled out. Only to push back in, eliciting a whine from you. He hesitantly continued and soon the pain turned into pleasure, a deep moan erupting from you as he kept his face buried in your neck. His hot breath turning you on further as he started to bite at your neck, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

He let out a low groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he moved down to your breasts once more. His tongue darting out and licking your nipple while his hand moved to pinch the other. Everything quickly became overwhelming as your back arched off the bed and into him, a loud moan escaping you once more. You didn’t care about being too loud, you were too in bliss to even think about someone hearing you. Your hands moved into his hair, tugging it and causing him to grunt in your ear. His pace quickened and the squelch of his dick pumping into your wet cunt echoed through the room.

His lips returned back to yours, your tongues meeting in an intimate dance as his hips snapped relentlessly into you. You could do nothing but moan into his mouth and tug his hair, his own hands gripping at your hips, probably going to leave bruises in the morning from how tight he was holding onto you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, your teeth clashing together while moans and whines poured out of your mouth and into his. He swallowed up your noises, pressing his mouth right up against yours to muffle your sounds. All while pounding into you at a rough pace.

One of your hands trailed down his neck and onto his back, digging your nails into his skin and releasing your mouth from his. He buried his face into your neck, groaning more as you scratched his back and pulled his hair. His hips stuttering slightly. You held him close, wrapping your legs around his waist while he tried to speed up again. The headboard was hitting the wall now and the bed was creaking with every thrust he gave. Your moans blended perfectly together with his heavy groans, the sound of his balls hitting your ass echoing through his room.

You started to shake, that same feeling building up in your stomach as your walls throbbed around him, eliciting a choked moan from him as he slipped an arm under you. Soft gasps came out of your mouth, your throat hoarse from all your screaming and moaning, but they kept on coming. He held you close to him, acknowledging the fact you’re close.

“Almost there baby, hold on fer me.” He grunted into your ear, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and irregular as he also chased towards his climax. You quietly whined into his ear, your pussy clenching around his dick. His eyes rolled back into his head as your walls trapped him inside of you, thrusting deeper into you and hitting that sweet spot.

You threw your head back, arching off the bed as you let out a loud moan of his name. Releasing all over his cock and onto his bedsheets.

“So tight…” He moaned softly, pulling out and cumming on your stomach. He collapsed on top of you, not fully pressing his body weight on you. The two of you breathing heavily as you try to catch your breaths. After a moment he lifted off of you, kissing your jaw. You kept your eyes closed, lips parted in a soft breathing while he whispered into your ear. “Be righ’ back.”

You can hear him walk into the bathroom, a bit of shuffling around before he comes back into the room. You were right where he left you, eyes closed and covered in cum. You could hear him chuckle quietly before a cold feeling hits your skin, your eyes snap open in shock and he shushes you. You look down and notice he’s wiping you clean with a wet towel. Relaxing, you lay your head back down on the pillow, enjoying the cold feeling on your hot skin as he wipes you completely clean. He leaves for a second time to throw the towel into a laundry bin, walking back up to you and smiling softly as he watches you wrap yourself up in his blanket.

“Got some room fer me?” He drawled, chuckling softly. You open your eyes a bit, lifting your arm to welcome him. He quickly got into bed with you, shutting off his lamp as he pulled the covers over the both of you, kissing your forehead. “Okay?” He asked quietly, stroking your hair out of your face.

“Better than okay.” Your voice cracked, hoarse from all the moaning. He just breathed out softly in response, holding you into his chest.

“Y’know I wanted our first time to be special…. but ‘m not entirely upset with how this went.” He snorted, squeezing you gently. You laughed gently, lifting your head to peck his lips.

“It was special.” You argued lightly, kissing his cheek before relaxing in his arms. He looked down at you, there wasn’t much light in the room but he could still make out your features. He smiled to himself, glad that tonight happened the way it did. Nothing else was said as you both slowly succumbed to sleep.

You woke up when you felt no one beside you, panicked you sat up and looked around for Daryl. Your shoulders relaxing when you heard the sink in the bathroom, quickly getting up and slipping on your underwear along with your bra. You didn’t have any place to be so you decided to just stay here for the morning, grinning as you found one of his shirts. Bringing it up to your nose and smelling it, tobacco and his natural musk filling your senses. You put it on, blushing at the fact that you could now wear his clothes.

“Oh my god.” You turned around at the sound of Daryl’s voice, he stood there at the doorframe of the bathroom. Looking you up and down before walking up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “you look so gorgeous (Y/N)…” He kissed the top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly as you giggled.

“You going out?” You beamed up at him, knowing he usually wakes up early to hunt. He nodded, kissing your head again before ruffling your hair and letting you go.

“Yeah, ya should probably go get somethin’ to eat. Wouldn’ want yer pretty self to be hungry.” You giggled, nodding before turning to go upstairs. He smirked as he watched you leave, his eyes trailing over the marks on your neck. He shook his head grinning to himself as he got his gear ready.

You walked into the kitchen, looking through the fridge and grabbing some leftover food from the cookout. Jumping when you closed the door and saw Carol, “jesus fucking christ.”

“So you did fuck him on the first date.” Carol smirked at you, following you over to the table. You rolled your eyes, hiding a grin. “So are you together now? Finally? After months and months of painful interactions that I had to witness and hear about with my own two ears and eyes???”

You scoffed, opening your mouth to answer before Daryl stepped into the room.

“Mornin’.” He gruffed, waving to Carol and kissing your head before heading towards the front door. “See ya later, (Y/N)…” He looked you over once again before leaving, crossbow in hand.

You turn your head back to Carol, a light blush on your face along with a grin. “Got my answer.” She grinned.

You giggled softly, picking at your food. “It’s…. a work in progress…”

likes, reblogs, + comments vv appreciated !

[girlgenius1111]

I want to be here.

part 3!!!

no warnings... i don't think.

You sat on your couch, staring at your phone resting on the coffee table. It was opened to your messages with Ona. You had barely texted in 6 years, only sending happy birthday's back and forth. Today, though, sat a message sent from you.

-Are you okay? I hope nothing we did made you uncomfortable. Not that you had to stay. I just want to make sure that you're okay.

It was marked delivered. There was no response. You'd only sent it an hour ago, and it was possible Ona had just gone home to sleep. But you didn't know when she'd left, how she got home. You were worried. And, as much as you wished you weren't, you were hurt. You felt... icky. Used. You knew Ona, and you knew she wouldn't just fuck you to get back at you, or just for fun. There was a small part of you, however, that felt like it would have made sense for her to do either of those things.

It's not like she could really have still feelings for you, if she ever did. She was Ona. The human embodiment of sunshine. A laugh that brought a smile to anyone who heard it's face. She was perfect, or as close as a person could get. And you were just... you. Nothing special. Nothing compared to her.

You pulled yourself out of the familiar spiral when your phone buzzed. You felt nauseous as you picked your phone up, Ona's caller ID flashing across the screen. Hand shaking slightly, you answered.

"Hello?" You tried to keep your voice level.

"Hey, I'm fine, I'm sorry I left like that. I just needed to get my head on straight." She didn't sound okay, she sounded like she'd been crying.

"No, it's okay. I was just worried, wanted to make sure you were safe." There was so much more you wanted to say, but you stuck to simple sentences, simple statements.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just kind of freaked out. Not because I felt pressured or anything, I just... got scared." You were relieved at that but still, she sounded slightly choked, like every word to you was a challenge. You could hear the murmur of someone else's voice next to her, but you couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly, you needed to get off the phone. You were convinced she regretted it, regretted you, and the rejection that hadn't actually happened yet felt suffocating. "It's fine. I get it. I messed things up, and I shouldn't have let it go this far. I'll see you at practice tomorrow."

You tried to hang up, feeling a lump in your throat as you spoke, but Ona's frantic voice stopped you.

"No! Y/n, no. Please don't run again. I know that's insanely hypocritical considering what I did this morning, but please. Can we please just talk?" She sounded panicked, and you felt too guilty to tell her no. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing tears out of them, wondering how she still had you wrapped around her finger, so many years later.

"Okay. Do you want me to come over?"

"Um. I'm actually at Alexia's. Don't be mad, I told her what happened, I just needed advice. Can I come to you?"

That shouldn't have surprised you. It made sense. Alexia was the biggest pusher of team cohesion. If people had a problem with each other, she made them work it out. She clearly had told Ona to talk to you, to tell you that it was a mistake in person, so there wasn't any tension.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you soon." You hung up before she could respond, leaning back against the couch, trying to pull yourself together. You wiped the tears off your face harder than necessary, and took a couple deep breaths.

Ona was going to come over, and tell you that you guys made a mistake. That was it. There was no other option. And you had to be fine with it, because this was your fault. If you'd handled the situation differently when you were 18, maybe things would be different, but they weren't. There was no conceivable way that Ona would want you.

You must have sat thinking longer than you thought because suddenly the doorbell rang, and you jumped to your feet, masochistically excited to see Ona even if you were sure she was about to break your heart.

----

The 2 of you sat on opposite sides of your couch, silently. She'd been crying, you could tell, and she was wearing clothes that were obviously Alexia's. You ignored how good she looked even in a t-shirt and sweatpants that were too big on her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a few pieces falling free. You were about to speak, to tell her it was alright, you knew what she was here to say, but she beat you to it. Her words surprised you.

"I was hoping maybe you could tell me what happened on my 18th birthday. After I kissed you." Her eyes met yours, and her gaze was curious.

"What makes you think something happened?" You hated how defensive you sounded, but this wasn't where you thought the conversation was heading and you didn't think you wanted to talk about this.

"Well you took off, moved out of your parents house a couple weeks later, and pretty much stopped speaking to me. You wouldn't do that without a reason." Her voice was gentle, as if you were fragile and you were so, so confused. Nothing she was saying made any sense.

"You didn't try to talk to me either, Ona." You said it more bitterly than you intended, and suddenly realized that you were kind of angry. Not really with her, but with yourself. For not allowing yourself to lean on her when everything happened with your parents. You hadn't realized, until that moment, how much you had needed her.

"I'm not proud of that." Your eyes snapped up to hers. "I was hurt, when you ran, but I shouldn't have kissed you. You weren't ready, you weren't comfortable with it yet, it was obvious. I pushed you too far, and I assumed you wanted space, and I was hurt, and then. I don't know. It had been too long."

You were really confused now. Baffled. It sounded like she was telling you that she knew you hadn't left because you didn't want her, but because you weren't ready. This whole time, she had understood you better than you'd really understood yourself. You felt tears welling in your eyes again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep everything in.

Ona scooted closer. "Y/n. Can you tell me what happened when you got home that night?" She knew. Of course she did. She had known your parents well, and they weren't shy about their beliefs. And she'd know that something catastrophic must have happened for you to move out at 18.

You couldn't look at her, staring at the coffee table, watching it get blurrier and blurrier as tears continued to gather. Your voice was barely more than a whisper when you spoke, but it still managed to break on every other word. "I told them. They weren't happy. They told me to leave when I turned 18." You stuck to the facts, the bare minimum.

You felt her grab your hand, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

"I'm so sorry. Fuck. I'm so sorry for all of it. I shouldn't have kissed you, and I shouldn't have just let you pull yourself away. I knew you felt bad about what happened, and I felt bad about what happened, and I didn't know how to fix it. You needed me, and I wasn't there, and I'm so, so sorry y/n.

The tears were really flowing now. Because how was she sitting her, apologizing. To you. For something that was completely your fault. You looked at her then, your eyes meeting hers. They were filled with apologies, regret. She was crying again, and you couldn't help yourself but reach a hand up and gently wipe a tear away with your thumb.

"Oni, you don't have to be sorry. I shouldn't have left. I loved you and I should have been brave enough to tell you that. And I definitely should have been brave enough to try to fix it after. I was a fucking coward, and you deserved so much better than that, than me."

"No." Her voice was suddenly harsh, and you jumped a little, startled. She softened slightly. "No. You were terrified, I could see it on your face. Please don't talk about yourself like that. You didn't do anything wrong. I always knew you had a tougher time with being gay than I did. You needed more time, and there is nothing wrong with that."

She said it so definitively, like it was a fact, not just what she felt. It was... almost convincing. Taking a deep breath, you tried to let her off the hook, still convinced she didn't want you.

"Well. I'm still sorry. I know I ruined us." She shook her head at that.

"You said you loved me. Past tense." Your eyes dropped again, suddenly interested in the tattoo on her arm. She kept talking, undeterred. "I hope it's not past tense. Because I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. I never stopped. Alexia told me I needed to get my head out of my ass and just tell you, because she says it's obvious that you love me too."

You looked back up at her in shock for a couple seconds. You sounded broken when you spoke again, lower lip trembling. "I don't understand." And you didn't. You were genuinely perplexed at the idea that Ona loved you.

She moved closer to you, taking your face in between her hands gently, forcing you to meet her eyes. You'd never had someone look at you that way before; like she was consumed with love for you.

"I love you. I want you. I didn't leave because I didn't want you, I left because I was I didn't know how to tell you. I just want to be here, y/n. With you. I want tell you that I love you, that you're a good person, and you deserve good things, until you believe it. If you love me, if you want me. I want to be here." She spoke slowly, making sure you heard every word.

You were still surprised. Still kind of confused. A part of you was starting to believe her though. Her words, the way she looked at you, the gentle feel of her hands cradling your face. It didn't leave much room for doubt. She stared at you, and you realized she was waiting for an answer. As if you would say no.

Surging forward, you pressed your lips against hers, kissing her firmly. You pulled back after a second, and you told her what you'd been dying to say since you were a kid.

"I love you, Ona. So much." You were sobbing at this point, and she sighed in relief at your words, pulling you back into her. You smooshed your face into her neck, holding her tightly. She held you just as tightly. You let yourself feel it all then, and you cried into her for a while. She didn't ever let go, running her hands through your hair and whispering reassurances into your ear.

When you were done crying, she was still there. Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of Alexia's sweatshirt. Ona was looking at you so tenderly, so gently. You leaned forward, pressing another kiss to her lips, just because you could. She smiled against you, pulling you to lay down on top of her. You rested your chin on her chest, looking up at her.

"God we're so stupid." She laughed at that, and the sound made you grin, a bigger smile than you'd felt yourself have in a while.

"The stupidest. If we'd just had one conversation, we could have figured this out years ago." She was smiling down at you, still lightly pushing your hair out of your face. "Thank god Alexia convinced me to come back over here. She was so sure you loved me back, she practically dragged me into the car."

"I wonder how she knew," you mused.

"She says you look at me the way Mapi looks at Ingrid, Marta at Caroline. I knew what she meant, but I never saw it. Not until now." You blushed, realizing that you were staring at her, enamored. "She also said Mapi said something to her about you having feelings for me. I think they've been conspiring together."

Your jaw dropped at that, and you were suddenly sure that they had been. "Oh they absolutely have. We should tell them we aren't getting together just to drive them insane."

"Yes, and we aren't speaking to each other. They'll lose their minds. But first, I have something I need to do." She sat you up, and you looked at her, confused.

"What do you ha-" She cut you off, pulling your face into hers in a decisively dirtier way than you'd been kissing. You met her with equal enthusiasm, wrapping your hands around her body, pulling her sit in your lap. Pulling back after a minute, gasping for air, you responded.

"You're right, I think we're busy for the rest of the morning"

"Maybe the rest of the day"

She pulled you back into her, and you kissed her hungrily, taking your time, because neither of you were running this time.

-----

Hope you enjoyed :) not sure if we've seen the last of these 2, but let me know if there's anything specific you want to see.

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for an anon behind the cut; mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees. ( chrono || non-chrono )

But why the fuck is Alfred calling him– 

“Sorry for the wait, Mr. Wayne, your local self thought it might be for the best not to come in-person! You wanted to avoid a fuss. I mean–he wanted to avoid a fuss,” Rita says brightly, looking sheepish, and Kon remembers, very abruptly, everything she’d said about Gotham tabloids and also the fact that she’d “recognized” him after he’d scooped up a traumatized kid who was calling him “Dad” and then, uh–well, flirted with her. And also literally every single story he has ever heard about Clark and Bruce successfully passing for each other, in costume and out. 

Well . . . shit. 

Well, that definitely means the local Bruce Wayne is out Batman-ing his way through the current interdimensional crisis. But also, what the fuck has Kon just gotten them into? Jon seems to just be rolling with it, thank fuck, but there's no way Alfred Pennyworth actually believes he's a version of Bruce Wayne. 

. . . does he? 

No, no, he definitely doesn't. Interdimensional bullshit aside, it’s Alfred. He's just a really good liar and a trained actor with a flawless poker face. Alfred lies better than Tim lies, for fuck's sake, which is goddamn saying something. So Kon might end up a little mortified later when he's admitting he got mistaken for an alternate version of Gotham’s number one airheaded himbo DILF Brucie Wayne by an aid worker, but . . . 

Well. He doesn't even know who he'd be admitting that to, at this point. 

He doesn't know if he'll ever . . . 

“The car is just down the block, sir,” Alfred says, and Kon tells himself he can do this. He always does, doesn’t he? He can handle his own shit and he'll take care of Jon and go meet the local Batman, apparently, and then embarrass himself explaining how this happened to him, and maybe . . . maybe the local Tim will be there. 

It won't be his Tim, but right now he just really wants to see his face, one way or the other. He's not gonna be picky about which “Tim” he's actually seeing. 

“Cool,” he says, trying not to sound too screamingly not-Gotham. He seriously doubts he manages it, though. He’s no good at the voice-mimicking trick Clark does and even if he was, it wouldn’t exactly be subtle to start doing it now. 

He and Jon say goodbye to the kids, who make a lot of very kid-like disappointed noises, and Kon suggests another game for them to distract themselves with–one that won’t require a technical adult running it–and then Rita’s got some paperwork for him and Alfred to both fill out and sign, and a couple other aid workers rubber-stamp them through, and absolutely no one asks to see his ID or even for a second doubts that he’s a version of Bruce Wayne. Except–hopefully–Alfred, anyway. 

Kon seriously cannot tell for fuck either way, the man might as well be a promethium wall. At this point he’s just counting on Alfred’s weird all-knowingness bailing him out here. Worst case scenario is explaining himself, obviously, but if he doesn’t exist here . . . 

Well, “Lex Luthor made me” is probably not a great start, with most Batmans. Especially after going to see said Batman under what is, technically, false pretenses. Like–obviously Alfred wouldn’t have come out in the middle of an interdimensional emergency for Conner Kent; he showed up here expecting a younger version of his boss. 

Probably would’ve come for Jon, he guesses, if only as a favor to the local Clark, since the guy’s presumably distracted figuring out how many dangerous strangers are currently in their reality with the Justice League, but still. 

Then again, for all Kon knows, the local Luthor is dead or irrelevant or a selflessly benevolent saint who feeds orphan puppies on the weekend, so who the fuck knows. 

Kon cannot actually imagine Luthor ever even existing in the same room as a puppy without it knowing well enough to piss on his fancy leather shoes, but look, alternate realities include the word “alternate” in them for a reason. Like, the word “alternate” is very much the operative word there. 

If nothing else, the local puppies might just be stupid. 

Kon’s not really a dog person, personally. Krypto doesn’t count, on account of being an alien and therefore not an actual dog. The first Krypto he knew was an actual dog, though, and they just did not vibe whatsoever.

He and Alfred sign the last couple papers. Kon fakes Bruce Wayne’s signature because he’s spent enough time in Wayne Manor to know the difference between that and his autograph, and thanks fuck that the eidetic memory finally kicked in last year. Seriously, it is such bullshit it took that long for him to get it, considering Clark and Luthor both have one. 

Alfred doesn’t actually react to the signature, but Kon does notice him noticing it. 

Probably what he’s noticing is that it’s not the same signature that his Bruce Wayne used in his early twenties, because there’s no way that hasn’t changed in twenty-odd years. 

Rita smiles at them and sees them all off happily with some reference numbers and exchanged contact information, and they don’t say anything on the way to the car. Kon keeps carrying Jon, which maybe isn’t normal human behavior, especially for someone who’s supposed to be passing for a ditzy socialite who allegedly only has vanity muscles as opposed to actually functional ones, but Kon kind of doesn’t care about that right now. Like, not even slightly does Kon care about that right now. 

Alfred leads them to a shiny black towncar and opens the door for them, and Kon gives him a nod of thanks and bundles Jon into the thing. Jon sniffles once, and kinda of clings to him a little. Kon figures it’s fair. He was never “ten” himself, obviously, but it seems like a rough age to put up with this kind of bullshit during. Like–definitely it does. 

“You’re good, kid,” he swears, less because it’s a promise and more because it’s something he’s gonna make happen, squeezing the kid’s shoulder the way Clark always does when he’s doing the reassuring thing. “I’ve got you. I’m with you. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Jon says, sniffling again and scrubbing an arm across his eyes. “Um. Sorry.” 

“Don’t sweat it, Jonno,” Kon says, and Jon’s face crumples for a moment before he visibly steels himself and nods. Kon squeezes his shoulder again, then gets into his own seat and buckles himself in more out of the habit of trying to pass for human while in civvies than to actually, like, need to be buckled in. TTK kind of cancels out the risk of getting tossed around a car in an accident, and he’s invulnerable on top of that, plus the super-speed, so . . . yeah. Definitely car accidents are not a concern. 

He really wants to help this kid. He wants to at least get him to the local Clark, if nothing else. Like–if they all get stuck here, or there’s nowhere else for them to go . . . 

Well, it’d take a pretty different Clark than the one he’s used to not to want to take in any version of Jon, so as long as this reality actually has a Clark . . . 

Well, Kon’s probably not gonna be watching the kid long, in that case.

[wordsbyrian]

A Polyglot Short: Kelley Finds Out

Summary: What the title says.

A/N: Remember like a month ago when I made a poll asking whether I should be nice and let Kelley find out who R's girlfriend is? This is that fic.

It’s been roughly 2 days since your late-night phone call with Kelley.

Currently, you’re puttering around your kitchen trying to put together something to eat for breakfast when your phone rings with a Facetime call.

Not bothering to check the caller ID, you answer and begin speaking, having already put the phone down and turned back to the stove.

“Escucha, si vas a venir a desayunar tienes que dejar de llamar para que pueda terminar de cocinar.”

There’s a pause that’s longer than it usually is when you snap at your Barça teammates and you don’t hear anyone laughing in the background, so you turn back around to the phone only to see Kelley staring at you shocked.

“Okay, so you’re not coming over for breakfast,” you say after a moment, “How are you doing Kells?”

“Uh, good.”

“Cool, are you calling for any particular reason? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Do I need a reason to call you,” she asks back.

“Yes,” you say, moving back to the stove, bringing the phone with you.

You hear nothing as Kelley presumably continues staring at you while you cook.

“So who are you making breakfast for? Your girlfriend?”

And there’s the reason.

Deciding to finally give in, you answer her.

“If she wakes up in time then yea,” you respond, pulling the pan off the stove, “If not then just me, Patri, and Pina.” “So you live with your girlfriend then? She’s one of your teammates?”

“No, and no. She’s just visiting and she leaves tomorrow.”

“You have barely a full day to be alone with her and instead you’re having breakfast with your friends,” Kelley says questioningly, “You’re an idiot.”

“Your opinion is unasked for but noted anyway,” you tell her, “Also there’s no way I could stop Patri and Pina from coming over. I moved in 3 and a half years ago and they’ve been harassing me daily ever since.”

Your sentence is punctuated by the sound of pounding at your door.

“Speak of the devil, I’ll be right back,” you say, already walking away.

Walking the short distance to the door, you’re unsurprised when the pounding only gets louder and more aggressive.

Yanking it open, you’re even more unsurprised to see your two neighbors and teammates on the other side, mid-knock with mischievous looks on their faces.

“Bon dia,” Patri and Pina say in unison, dropping their hands.

“You’re the worst,” you tell them in Spanish, only getting big grins in return.

Both of them look like they’re attempting to hold back laughter.

“Whatever,” you say, stepping aside to let them in, “Just be quiet, I think Ona is still..”

You’re cut off by a loud but distorted scream coming from the kitchen.

Rolling your eyes, you shut the door and motion for your two friends to follow you.

Upon reaching the kitchen, you’re only slightly surprised to see Ona holding your phone, talking to Kelley.

Well, talking is one way to put it.

Kelley is speaking at a million miles a minute and asking a thousand questions while Ona attempts to stutter out answers.

Rolling your eyes as you cross the room, you take the phone from your girlfriend, pausing only to press a kiss to the side of her head.

“You guys can go ahead and eat,” you tell Ona in Spanish before focusing on Kelley as you walk out of the room. “Are you done now,” you ask your American teammate.

She takes a moment before responding.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you happy with the information you now have?”

“I thought it might have been either Sophia or Sanchez or both at one point so this is better than I expected.”

“Thanks?”

“No problem, Y/N/N,” she says, “Talk to you later kid.”

“Later.”

Hanging up, you return to the kitchen where everyone is doing their best to look like they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop on the call.

Halfway across the world, Kelley is stuck staring blankly at her phone for a few moments.

Snapping out of it, she immediately dials Christen’s number.

Her college teammate answers quickly and Kelley doesn’t bother wasting time with greetings.

“Did you know Baby Genius was dating #2 from Spain,” she asks.

“Hello to you too Kelley,” Christen says.

“Hi Pressy. Did you know that Y/N/N is dating #2 from Spain?”

Kelley can hear laughter in the background, presumably from Tobin, before Christen answers.

“Yes, Kell, I knew,” she says. “They’ve been together for a while. I think they started dating before Ona moved to play for United.”

“Wait, you know her?!”

A deep sigh from Christen.

“Tobin and I played with her at United. They’re good for each other, I promise.”

“Okay,” Kelley agrees, if somewhat reluctantly.

“Good and promise me you’ll leave them alone.”

“What?”

“Promise me, Kelley.”

“Fine, fine, I won’t bother the happy couple.” The reluctance in her voice is even more obvious now.

“Thank you, I’ll talk to you later, Kell.”

“Later.”

This time after hanging up the phone, Kelley wastes no time before texting Sonnett already plotting ways to mess with Y/N at the next camp.

[thejujvtsupost]

Hello! This is my first time ever asking for a request 😭 I’m pretty shy but id like to request GetoxF!reader with smut where the reader is a new student/strong sorcerer and catches Getos attention

Weak to Sunshine

Hi anon! I love this idea sm 😌 okay technically I like anything with Geto but that’s beside the point.

Notes: F!reader, both Geto and reader are teachers and oblivious, Geto is mean at first but dw it’s just because he’s a little dumb, smut, oral (f receiving), light fluff, cocky attitudes lead to porn.

Geto wasn’t easy to surprise, but your sheer power was amazing. He’d prefer not to be on the receiving end of it ever again.

He was aware there was a new teacher and he didn’t go out of his way to welcome you the way others Gojo did.

When you tried to say hello to him in the hallway he acknowledged you with a grunt and nothing else. Gojo told you he was too grumpy all the time, that it probably wasn’t anything you did. So you still made sure to include him, inviting him to the activities you often did with Shoko and Gojo, saving space for him at lunch.

It wasn’t that he hated you or anything- quite the opposite. You had a sunshine personality, a soft demeanor and made students feel good about themselves, you were naturally caring. He valued people like that and found it adorable admirable.

But he didn’t understand why you were there. He had yet to see you spar (if he went outside once in a while he would see you training the kids every day) and you didn’t exude power the way other sorcerers did. If he wasn’t aware ahead of time, he would never have thought you were a sorcerer. So Geto, as nice as you seem and pretty as you were (wait, pretty?), didn’t think you could teach the students enough to be helpful- do you really belong there? And when Shoko was telling him he should be nicer to you, that every time you were around he grew quiet, he voiced his concerns. After all it was only Shoko.

Or he thought it was.

You went looking for her, intending to see if she wanted to get lunch together and you heard her voice down the hall.

You swear you weren’t eavesdropping. You knocked on the door frame but the pair didn’t acknowledge you, and when you walked inside you immediately wished you hadn’t.

“All I’m saying is if she can’t be valuable to the kids or the school then she shouldn’t be here. Her energy is so weak, she couldn’t overpower a first year. Seems pretty reliant on Gojo too. What use does the school have for someone that can’t train them? All she ever does is smile like a puppy, she makes the kids happy but do they even take her seriously?”

“She goes out just as often as Gojo for the hard curses. She picks up your slack and your missions, always saying she doesn’t mind helping out since you refuse to go anywhere. She can repress her energy dipshit. That’s mean Suguru, even for-” Shoko didn’t get to finish her sentence.

“So that’s what you think of me?” You could hear your voice crack. “You hate me because you think I’m weak? You really think I’m nice because I can’t do anything else?”

“Look I’m just trying to say…”

“I fucking heard what you said, you got your panties in a bunch because I know how to repress my energy! That’s pathetic. It’s not your job to evaluate my attitude or my work performance when I’m the one doing your shit on top of mine you lazy ass. What do you do all day while I risk my life to do your job for you?” Shoko decided it would be best to back away slowly. Standing in the doorway behind you was safer than between two angry sorcerers.

Gojo ended up standing beside her when he heard the commotion- you were both lucky the students weren’t around right now.

Geto’s fists clenched at his sides where he stood in an attempt to calm himself, “You have no idea what Gojo and I have done for this school, you have no right to call me-”

“Heyyy buddy maybe you shouldn’t-” Gojo went unheard and Shoko just put a hand in front of him to let you two work it out. If he intervened it only made you look like you couldn’t handle yourself.

“Oh fuck Gojo, you know he has nothing to do with this! You’re using him as a crutch for your excuses-”

“Oh so that’s it? It makes sense now. You’re fucking Gojo, no wonder he thinks so highly of you, or maybe lowly of you, I’m not in your bedroom.”

That’s when all hell broke loose. You made a strangled noise in the back of your throat and tried to hold back your tears. You wanted to hit him, it would’ve been more satisfying.

“Fuck you, Geto.” Instead, you raised your hand out from your body and blasted him through the wall of his classroom and into the courtyard. For the first time in a long time, you were happy it was pouring rain.

Once again Gojo and Shoko were ignored, you stomped past them and left for your office. You were gone before Geto could see your tears. You were sick of everyone treating you like that; being able to control your energy output was an advanced skill that most people didn’t have. You were strong. There was more to your life than being a sorcerer, being in control was an advantage to maintaining that.

And more than anything you were hurt. A little humiliated that the person you really liked thought you were a floozy and not to mention it was more than obvious he didn’t care to know you. What he actually thought of you hurt the most. You didn’t expect him to like you the way you liked him, but you at least wanted to be friends.

Shoko shook her head and went back to work, “Karma.”

“Oof- that’s gonna hurt for a few days!” Gojo approached Geto sitting in the rain and mud.

“Shut up Satoru.”

“Hmm nope! That was kinda mean of you but damnnnn she threw you like thirty feet. For someone so short she’s got a lot of fire in her.” Gojo wasn’t one to contain his teasing, this wasn’t an exception. If anything it was a golden opportunity to make fun of him for years to come. He took several selfies, some with a peace sign and they all had Geto’s soaked, irritated face. “Oh by the way, we’re not fucking. She’s cute buuuut not my type, and I’m not her type either. She has feelings for, well maybe not now, someone else; it’s much more of a brother/sister type of thing. So there’s no need to be jealous.”

Jealous? “I’m not jealous!” But who the hell did you have feelings for?

“That’s exactly what a jealous person would say! You should probably apologize if you want her to talk to you ever again, though you’ll be lucky is she does.” He waved and left Geto on his own, he’d be fine.

Since then you’ve avoided him. When you couldn’t, you ignored him. When you had to speak of him you were back to calling him Geto. You no longer tried to say hello or talk to him (it was nice of you, though he always gave you vague responses). You didn’t invite him to things. Actually, you didn’t go out or eat lunch with your friends at all these days. Always saying you felt sick or tired, letting them drag you places but staying home otherwise. Your insecurities were getting the best of you because even though you had no proof, what if the others didn’t actually see you as a teacher? What if they thought you were as weak as Geto did? Maybe not Shoko or Gojo, but you were careful with your own cursed energy, had been since you were a teenager. Much like Gojo’s infinity, it was second nature.

At first he thought you were being ridiculous. By week nine he was trying to actively engage with you. To no avail.

The break room was cold, the spaces you used to be were empty and he found himself missing your warm disposition, who’d thought he’d miss you calling his first name excitedly inviting him to sit with you guys. His friends didn’t mention you and when he tried to ask why you weren’t sitting with them, they gave him a dirty look. Gojo sighed, “Ah. She doesn’t really do lunch these days, at all anymore.”

Shoko enjoyed adding some guilt, rubbing salt into the wound. “She chose to step back so you could hang out with your best friends because ‘you were here first.’ She sits in her office alone and refuses to let us take her out after work unless we drag her. The students know she’s unhappy too, you should be grateful she hasn’t said anything like a professional because those kids would eat you alive- especially the first years. If they found out you’re the reason she’s putting in a transfer request for Kyoto they’d be devastated. All she’s said to us is that she wants to start fresh and act more professional- that she wants to be someone taken seriously like everyone else- except for Gojo. No one takes him seriously.” Gojo’s protest was background noise to Geto. “She looked up to you Suguru, she tried to be your friend and get to know you. Still she doesn’t bad mouth you even though it’s justified, she hasn’t even blamed you- she’s serious about it.”

“I figured she was just busy…” You looked up to him? He thought you were friendly but he must not have been paying enough attention, you wanted to know him. Him. Guilt flooded him like a tsunami.

“Clearly you thought wrong.” Shoko snapped at him and the rest of their lunch was silent.

Enough was enough, he needed to find a way to make it up to you. Fuck, he missed you.

So he tried to say hi to you every day.

You only nodded at him to be polite in front of others, professional.

He brought you fresh coffee to your now dreary classroom before you ran off to your office. When had you taken your colorful posters down? Where did your little desk ornaments go?

it went untouched.

Every attempt was denied.

It wasn’t until you were stuck in your office far past after hours, waiting out the rain that just wasn’t letting up- that he was able to talk to you.

He was finally able to leave and he was happy to but he noticed your office light was on.

Right, you don’t drive and everyone, including Ijichi already left; you wouldn’t bother him even though he’d happily come get you. (You happened to be one of his favorites.)

He knocked on your door and got no response, so he opened the door to check if you were actually there.

Oh god, you were. But you were asleep at your desk. He closed the door behind him and crouched down at your side. He knew he was tall, waking you up standing over you wasn’t a good way to start a conversation. “Hey, c’mon you can’t sleep here.” He kept his voice low and was gentle when he nudged your shoulder and rubbed your arm.

You mumbled something he couldn’t understand before blinking your eyes open and looking at him. “You gotta go home, your desk can’t be comfortable.” It was the first time you looked at him in weeks, he hated the dark circles under your eyes that weren’t as bright as they used to be- how they should be.

“Whatever. You can’t tell me what to do. And not that’s it’s any of your business since we’re professionals, but I am staying here.” You hid a yawn behind your hand and sat upright, rubbing the crick in your neck did little to soothe the ache.

Geto wasn’t good at apologizing but with the way you avoided him like it plague it was now or never. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that. Everyone thinks you’re a great teacher. Shoko said you’re trying to transfer to Kyoto, but you just got here.”

You wanted to ignore him again, you wanted to throw him out of your office and sleep on your couch with the throw blanket you were grateful you kept on the back cushions. But he struck a nerve and your lip wobbled, “Doesn’t matter. You said it yourself people don’t take me seriously here, if I go to Kyoto they won’t think I’m a pushover there. It’ll open up a job for someone else who can help better than I can.” You were doing everything you could to hold yourself together, going as far as wrapping your arms around your midsection for comfort. “Thanks for apologizing but you said your piece and I said mine so can you go? I really just want to sleep right now.”

“I was wrong. You’re not a pushover. I don’t let people in easily and I took you for granted and then I got jealous and lashed out.” Ah shit, he said too much. But if being honest might get you to stay then he might as well go for it.

“Jealous?” You sounded so small and tired- it hurt his heart.

“I thought…” he tipped his head back with a groan. “You can make fun of me if you want after this, it’s dumb and not my business anyway. But I thought you were interested in Gojo and it irritated me. The more I saw you two together the more I wanted to block you out-” he stopped when we started giggling. Your tears spilled over and he didn’t know if you were crying because you were laughing or not. “You could’ve at least waited until I left I room to laugh but I suppose I deserve it.”

You shook your head and tried to get yourself under control. “No- no it’s not that. You’re just an idiot, I was-” you had to take another few breaths before you started giggling again. “I was hanging out with Shoko and Gojo so much because we’re friends and they knew I had feelings for you. Oh god this is hilarious.”

He pulled your hand into his, “You really mean that?”

You nodded and finally regulated your breathing. It was enough for him. He leaned up and kissed you.

Your surprised squeak made him smile against your lips and then you were kissing him back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into him more- when you broke apart he was holding your face in his hands and wiping away your remaining tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being an ass. I’m sorry you were the one picking up my slack and I’m sorry I made you stop smiling- I really miss your smile.”

“Really?” The upturn of your lips, though not a full smile, already made him feel warmer than he had in weeks.

“Really, it’s like sunshine. You look like you haven’t been sleeping for a while though, you’re a little zombie.”

You snorted a little laugh, it made him smile. “I’ve been working on ways to improve my teaching and looking for apartments in Kyoto. Do you know how hard it is to find an apartment in Kyoto on a teacher’s salary? It’s hard to relax.”

“Poor baby,” you could tell he wasn’t mocking you, he really felt bad and wanted to make it better. He stood and lifted you onto your desk- the change of position made you dizzy. How did he do that so fast? “How about you stop looking for apartments and I’ll make it up to you.” He kissed both of your cheeks before trailing them down your jaw and neck.

It lit you on fire, “Make it up to me?”

“Yeah baby, I’ll make it up to you good.” His hand laid on your upper thigh and gently started pushing your skirt up. “This okay? I’ll stop no problem if you want.”

You were already squirming for him. A tall, strong man you had feelings for, who you just made up with, who could crush you like a grape was between your legs and wanted to make it up to you. Why would you ever say no? “Please don’t stop?” You sounded more desperate than you’d like but it spurred him on.

“Hold on to me.” You did as he asked; he picked you up, sat you on the couch and got on his knees in front of you.

“What’re you doing I thought-” oh god.

He lifted your skirt to your waist and massaged along your thighs until he reached the edge of your panties, he played with the lace and looked up at you for permission with his blown pupils, he needed you so badly.

You nodded at him to continue and he was fast. You barely had to lift your hips before you were bare, Geto spread your legs and you had a flash of insecurity.

“Fuck you’re so pretty down here, so wet f’me.” He looked entranced by the sight of you. Insecurity waved.

He didn’t hesitate to hold your thighs in place and duck his head to give the first hint of pleasure to your clit, he moaned almost louder than you did. You heard him mutter something like “fuck” before he attacked himself to your cunt, eating like he’d been starved his entire life.

It was embarrassing how fast you were on the edge, you tried to push his head back but he growled. “God, m’already worked up. Gonna cum too soon.” Your face was red from the stimulation and the mortification.

“Not too soon-” he got distracted and went back to eating you out until you nudged him again. “I want it, s’mine, let me have it. Need to feel you cum- fuck ya later I just need to taste you so bad fuck…”

You didn’t disturb him again, he held onto you tighter when you started shaking. He slipped a finger into you and found your sensitive spot. You were so tight and wet for him it was driving him crazy.

“Suguru! Gonna- gonna!”

He didn’t let up at all, insistently licking and sucking your clit, rubbing you perfectly from the inside- you clamped your thighs around his head and came harder than you could ever remember.

The finger withdrew after a minute, letting you ride your orgasm out with something to clench on. His mouth however, didn’t stop. Careful to avoid overstimulating you, he cleaned you up with his own tongue.

Your body was boneless, dead weight and ready to fucking sleep but that wouldn’t be fair. You reached out for him and he held your hand in his clean one. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes were closed but you just knew he was looking at you concerned. “W’about you?”

It took him a minute to realize what you meant and he chuckled, “No baby, I was making it up to you remember?” You were too tired to remember.

You shook your head and he adjusted your skirt to pull it down. “Let me clean up and I’ll take you home, yeah?”

“Too tired, don’t want y’too leave.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave you alone, you’re coming with me. I got a comfortable bed and a big tub for a soak with your name on it. Hold onto me again, I’ll carry you.”

You held onto him like a koala while he grabbed your purse and coat, draping it over you to keep you warm. The rain finally came to a drizzle, it was good timing on Mother Nature’s part.

After he grabbed his own keys he had you buckled in the passenger seat with the seat heater on blast. He didn’t like that you were shivering.

Geto was more than happy. Not only were you canceling your transfer, you were his now.

In his heart, he knew deep down Gojo was going to tease him relentlessly.

Worth it.

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

[thecynthh]

smart ass - M.S

synopsis - matt’s not doing to well with his schooling but is determined to get his degree and pass his classes. one essay which is a huge part of their grade haunts him with a bad mark, luckily y/n is willing to him him

notes - college setting, no smut yet, more of matt in the next part, hopefully a long series !

author notes - heyyyyy so this is my first series i guess, i hope you guys like this and i promise not to take too long with the next part. love all u babes and j hope u have a nice new years if you celebrate it!

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

a notification appears on my laptop, new grade from Ms.Garcia. shrugs and groans rung throughout the lecture hall, clicking on the notification a website pops up onto my desktop.

*97%,A+ good job y/n keep up the good work*

what were people so upset about, i thought to myself. my shoulder gets tapped by the person beside me.

“oh my god this old woman just hates me,” madi cries from beside me. i peak over at madi’s screen seeing a whopping 54%. i dont understand how that happens to a girl like madi, she was so smart and didn’t deserve that grade. i knew she didnt deserve that, i read her essay myself !

my hand lands on hers, “ okay that’s actually insane for you to be getting a 54, your essay was so good?!?”

everyone's head shoots up to the women below the many rows of seats, “so as you see at your grades only ms y/n got a good grade. i'm willing to let everyone else rewrite their exam and hand it in by next week if you do not like your grade.” the decrepit woman just packs her bag after saying that and begins to leave the room. everyone replicated her and began to pack up their belongings, including me.

madi and i leave the large space and stand in the hall just outside. “oh fuck, i promised nick id meet him after our class, ill see you later babes.” she ghosts a kiss on my cheek as i do the same to her greeting her goodbye. i grab my phone to check the time but to mostly look busy before i head somewhere else.

large footsteps creep up behind me and i hear my name being called. “y/n? thats your name right?” a man around 5’8 is standing in front of me. a little startled i take a second to reply.

“uhm yes that's me” i say replying to him. i notice his outfit, simple black cargos with a baggy sweater over it saying RANSOM with angel wings projecting off of the word.

“s-so i was wondering if you were willing to help me with the essay, you know, maybe study the material more?” he says while slightly looking down and looking very nervous.

“oh yea! of course i’ll bring over my notes and materials that i got from Ms.Garcia. does friday work for you? i have work tomorrow so i’ll be busy after class…” i cringe at my own sentence.

i knew who matt was, he was quite the popular guy and a social media influencer who made a lot of money. he didn’t have to exactly work a normal job like i did. although i don’t blame him, i’ve watched some of their videos and if i’m being honest they are pretty funny. i’ve slowly started to keep up with them ever since i was introduced to them by madi at an influencer party where she and the triplets got invited.

“mhm friday works, you can swing by my house, my brothers won’t be home that night. thanks for this by the way.” he says with his face softening, he definitely seemed more relaxed after i said yes.

“okay then! it’s a date- oh well not really a date, but i mean date as in like… oh you get it.” i trip over my words and finally take in his features. he has a beautiful jawline and scruffy that would feel so good on my-

he chuckles at my mishap “yeah it’s a date just lemme give you my number i’ll text you the address soon.” i present my phone to him as he begins to type out his phone number into his phone, naming his self matt s with a panda emoji next to it.

he’s still typing a little after he names himself, thinking nothing of it i just let him place my phone back into my hand at him as i wave to him bidding him goodbye.

i let my shoulders relax after i see him turn a corner and is out of my line of sight. god why am i so bad at talking to guys, that was straight embarrassing, i thought to myself.

——————

thursday afternoon

madi and i met for coffee after our classes were finished, we caught up ate some small pastries and drank coffee, the usual. but once i told her about what happened yesterday….

“YOU WHAT??” madi says, nearly snorting out her coffee from her nose.

“i agreed to help tutor matt so he can pass this class” i repeat to her seeing zero problem with this.

“so you wanna tutor him, at his house, without his brothers home, at night.” madi tells me in a “matter of fact” tone

“well if you say it like that it sounds like i’m dancing with the devil over here.” i say sarcastically still not seeing the problem.

“you. matt. alone. even after what happened at the party?” madi retorts bringing up the party again.

“okay i still have no fucking clue what you mean by matt was eyefucking me at that party, i was enjoying myself and he was more or less just observing everyone at the party.” god just hearing myself make me realize what is happening.

“you know, just good luck and please don’t be so naive, i don’t want you to get hurt.” madi says in such a sincere tone.

“i’m glad you are at least okay with the whole idea of it, but i gotta go, i have a shift in an hour.” i tell her collecting my things, she stands up and ghosts a kiss on my cheak.

“kk love ya girl, i’ll see you tomorrow.” madi says waving me off before i become late for my shift.

let’s just hope she has at least a little bit of faith in me.

authors note - YAYAYAYAYAY IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS !!!