#the amount of typos in this is awkward

[corvid-ghost]

Omg I manifested that shit/j

which fanon batfam character are you?

i made a quiz assigning you a fanonized version of one of the batfam characters :)

[wren-writes-stuff]

From Under The Desk

JaycexFem!Reader

Modern College AU

You have a paper due at midnight. A very important one. You absolutely CANNOT afford to be distracted.

Jayce distracts you.

Warnings: 18+ (this is basically just smut without plot tbh.) Reader is AFAB. Oral sex, cunnilingus, descriptions of genitalia. Small age gap? Like, only a year or two. Does that count? Idk let me know if i missed something <3

You scrubbed a hand across your face, exhaustion tugging at your eyes. It wasn't actually that late- it was only about seven pm. But, you'd stayed up all of last night writing this damned paper, only to go and spend a full day in class afterwards. And now here you were, hunched over your desk like a vulture pecking at your keyboard.

Getting the words down was the easy part. It was making them make sense that made your brain hurt. The amount of words you'd back-spaced over was probably comparable to the ones you'd actually kept.

You took a swig of your energy drink, wincing as the carbonation hit the back of your throat. You don't know why you bothered honestly; it wasn't doing anything for you at this point.

It was then that you heard the lock on the front door click, and the telltale shuffling sounds of someone entering your tiny apartment.

"I'm home!"

You heard Jayce's muffled voice through your bedroom door, but you made no effort to tear your attention away from your computer screen.

"Hon?" You heard him call again, "You home?"

More shuffling. Then, he knocked softly on the door before opening it. "Hon?" He repeated.

"Hey," you said automatically, fingers still flying across your keyboard.

"Hey, you." You could hear the smile in his voice, and it made your stomach flutter a little. "I picked up some takeout for dinner- I even got those little crab rangoons you love."

In your head, you meant to say something like, 'Wow! Thank you, my love. Im so excited to eat my favorite food with you!' But you didn't, leaving only an awkward pause in the back and forth you could barely call a conversation. You scrolled back to the top of your paper to re-read it, skimming for mistakes. Ah- there's a typo here. It should be "perceived", not-

"Hey, are you okay? Did you hear me?"

"What?" You bristled a little bit, annoyed to have been interrupted. You finally turned around to acknowledge him, trying to hide your chagrin. "Oh...sorry. Um, thank you. That was thoughtful."

It had taken a moment to force your eyes to focus on him, after staring at a bright screen for so long. When they did, you found he looked significantly more chipper than you felt. That made sense, you supposed. He had been freed from the confines of student life already, no longer bogged down by trivial things like homework and exams. Lucky bastard.

His eyes grazed across your face, then the rest of your body- and stopped when he found something interesting.

"You're wearing my hoodie,". He said. Irritation clawed at your stomach, and you swallowed the 'so what?' rising in your throat. You really just wanted to get back to work.

"It's comfy," you said instead, shrugging. "Sorry. I hoped you wouldn't mind. Do you want it back?" He shook his head, starting towards you.

"No, it looks good on you. Keep it on." He leaned down to peck you on the cheek, and you smiled tiredly at him. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day at work, and his chiseled cheekbones were smeared with grease. His cologne was mixed with the smell of coal and something vaguely chemical. Truthfully, what you really wanted was to yank off the hoodie, and his clothes too, and pull him into the shower with you- but there was no time for that now. You swiveled your chair around again, going back to your work.

"Im sorry," you said, "This paper is due in a couple of hours and I need to get it done. You should go ahead and eat if you're hungry. You don't have to wait. And please take a shower."

"What?" He teased, "You don't like the smell of hydraulic fluid?" He wrapped his arms around you and dropped his chin on top of your head. You found it difficult to keep yourself upright under his immense weight.

"No, I don't," you huffed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to focus on this. But once I'm done, I'm yours for the rest of the night, okay?"

The weight was lifted as he moved away from you, chuckling. "Alright, Alright. I'll leave you to it. God, it's kinda hot when you're mean to me. Maybe you should do that more often."

You swatted his arm, staring incredulously, and he ducked away as he laughed again. "I'm not being mean to you. I thought I was being pretty polite all things considered."

"You are mean to me," he whined. "You wont even let me give you my love and attentioonnn." He gave you fake puppy dog eyes, and you snatched a pencil off your desk, holding it up like you were going to chuck it at him.

"Get out," you warned. He held up his hands in surrender and backed out the door, eyes full of mirth.

"I bet you'd be nicer to me if you ate something."

You threw the pencil as hard as you could, but he shut the door before it reached him, and it bounced off the wood instead. You heard him cackling on the other side, before you heard his heavy footsteps move away.

You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. It was greasy, and in need of a good combing-through. You hadn't really had time for a shower yourself; but it could wait a little longer. You went back to your pecking.

Too soon, you heard the bedroom door open again. "Back already?" You asked mechanically.

"Already?" He repeated. "It's been like an hour." You glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of your screen. He was right. You'd been so focused that you didn't realize how long it had been.

"Whoops." You still didn't cease your typing.

You felt his weight upon you the same as before, forcing a wheeze from your lungs. "Why are you so heavy?" You huffed.

He chuckled, and you felt the vibrations against your back. The two of you stayed there like that for a moment, and you rubbed your eyes again. His warmth was comforting, and dangerously cozy. You were going to fall asleep at this rate. You shrugged, trying to get him to move off of you- but he didn't budge. Instead, he pressed his face into your neck, and his hair tickled your cheek. It was still damp, and you could smell his shampoo- like mint, and something darker, more earthy. You tilted your head to kiss the top of his own, breathing in the scent; but never taking your eyes away from your computer.

"Your food's getting cold, love." His breath tickled your skin, giving you butterflies again. "You should come eat something. You'll feel better."

"Can't," you muttered. Even if you wanted to, the caffeine you'd been chugging all day dampened your appetite, despite your empty stomach. He was probably right, but if you stopped now, you might not be able to start again. You had to capitalize on your focus; you couldn't afford to lose it.

Jayce brushed his lips against your jaw, pressing little kisses into the bone, and down your neck. He trailed a hand down your arm, the one opposite to him, and slipped it across your thigh, into the space between your legs-

'What do you think you're doing?" He stood up straight, taking his hand back. You glared at him, half annoyed, and half aroused. It was only now that you realized he wasn't wearing a shirt- just a pair of sweatpants that accentuated his girth in just the right way. You could see every muscle he worked so hard to build on full display, and your breath hitched. His tanned skin was just as damp as his hair, still shining with water. You wondered if he'd even bothered to dry off when he got out of the shower.

"I'm sorry. I can stop if you really want me to," he said gently. He looked down at you with something on his face you couldn't quite read. He wasn't frowning, nor smiling. His eyebrows were quirked upward just slightly, eyes half lidded. His expression was somewhere between lust and fatigue, you decided. Maybe he'd had a long day, too.

You blinked, trying to keep your eyes open. Maybe you didn't want him to stop- but you had to get this done if you had any hope of graduating next semester. You couldn't afford to fail this class. You looked away from him, feeling torn. In the corner of your eye, you watched him kneel beside you, and felt the weight of his head in your lap. He slid his hands around your waist, one of them between you and the back of your chair, and the other across your lap.

"You don't have to stop," you said quietly. "But I can't, either. This is important."

"Is that what you want though? For me to keep going, I mean?"

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "I do. I just need you to understand that I'm not ignoring you to be mean; I don't want to hurt your feelings because I'm not being an active participant."

He lifted his head, shifting himself between your legs. He had to duck and curl himself up awkwardly to fit himself underneath your desk- it was kind of cute, actually, watching him trying to fit his giant shoulders and long legs into such a tight space.

"I don't think that at all," he said when he was finally comfortable. "I know this it's important to you." He slid his hands up your thighs, letting one of his thumbs land on the spot where he knew your clit to be. He stroked it gently through the fabric of your pants, and you bit your lip to stop the gasp trapped in your throat. His other hand grasped your hip, massaging the soft malleable flesh of your curves with his thumb. He rested his cheek on your knee, looking up at you lovingly.

"You just seem so stressed," he said. "I wanna help you relax." He punctuated his words by swiveling his hand around, sliding his fingers under the curve of your pelvis. Well, 'relaxed' isn't the word you would use to describe yourself right now. A coil had wound itself inside your stomach, and your legs were tense with anticipation. In his hands, you were putty. You couldn't think straight anymore. You tried to focus, tried to keep your eyes on the prize. You were almost done here. Just a couple more paragraphs to go, and then you could-

"Oh-" you gasped involuntarily, something girlish and high pitched. Your face burned with embarrassment- you'd never made a noise like that before. But you couldn't help it- not with the way he was sliding his fingers into you now. You hadn't even realized he had managed to tug your pants down enough to expose you to him.

His other hand, previously on your hip, had slid up your sweater. It was on the small of your back now, pressing you forward. He drew his fingers out of you, slowly, and you bucked your hip forwards with a groan. He was moving so, so slowly. He was being so gentle and sweet, you thought your teeth were going to rot and fall out of your skull. He leaned forward, kissing your stomach, moving down to the side- to your hip, in the crease of your skin where your pelvis met your thigh. You shivered; his lips brushed you so lightly it tickled a bit. Your fingertips buzzed with electricity as you tried to keep typing. But then you felt his tongue sliding between your folds and you couldn't do it anymore.

You let your eyes flutter shut, letting him finally overtake your thoughts completely. You buried your face in your hands, trying to control your ragged breathing as he moved his tongue up, and down, slowly, gently. He pushed his tongue inside of you, lapping at you like he hadn't had a drop to drink in days. You whined, sliding a hand under the desk to grab his hair, to bring him closer to you. You could hear him panting, feel his breath against your pubic mound. His movements grew more desperate at your touch, ever eager to please.

You laid your other arm on the table, resting your head on it like a pillow. You really couldn't stop the sounds escaping from you now. Every gasp, moan, and whimper from you only seemed to further spur him, urging him to move faster. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue, reaching as far inside of you as he could manage, and moving back up to lick tiny circles around your clit.

You moved your hips with his rhythm, desperate for more friction as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge. "Jayce," you whispered shakily, "I-I'm really- mmmfh- close-"

He didn't let up even a little bit, even when you leaned back, pushing his head against you so hard you were worried he'd suffocate. You were almost blinded by pleasure, the coil winding itself tighter and tighter- until it finally snapped.

You cried out his name like a prayer, over and over again as you shook. You clamped your thighs around his ears, wrapping your legs together over his shoulders. You tugged on his hair like it was a lifeline, feeling every crashing tidal wave of your orgasm in full force as your back arched away from your chair. You practically sobbed, your eyes watering. You couldn't help it. It was so good.

He finally stopped when he sensed you'd had enough, slumping in your chair like a rag doll as exhaustion racked your brain through the afterglow. He pulled back, his face shiny with spit and slick. You smiled at him, before letting your head flop back as you closed your eyes.

'That was hot," he whispered. You snorted, not opening your eyes. You felt his fingers brush your skin as he pulled your pants back up, and shivered slightly when the cold wet fabric of your underwear met your overly-sensitive groin. You pressed your toes against the floor to push your chair from under the table so he'd have room to get out.

"That didn't take very long, either" he teased. "You must have been pretty pent up." You heard shuffling as he stood, and you finally opened your eyes when you felt his lips brush against your forehead. You flicked his shoulder.

"You're just good at what you do."

He smiled, his eyes flickering across your face. You reached up to rub your thumb across his chin, trying to wipe off some of the remaining fluids. He grabbed your wrist and pressed a kiss into your palm before you could withdraw it, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Come eat something, please," he whispered. You sighed and glanced at the clock again, considering it- it was almost 9:15. There was still time.

"Alright, alright," you resigned. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be right there."

Jayce made a face you couldn't discern, and let go of your hand. "Okay," he said, and stepped out of the room.

He came back ten minutes later to find you still at your computer. "I couldn't wait any longer," he said- making you jump.

"Augh, I'm sorry, Jayce," you said- and you meant it.

"It's okay," he shrugged, "I had a feeling this might happen. You get so sucked in sometimes. It's endearing, actually."

He set two styrofoam boxes next to you, and opened another for himself. "I thought I would just bring dinner in here. Maybe I could help you edit? Make things go a little faster so we can get you in the shower?" He smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was lodged into the corner of the room, with the desk beside it like an oversized nightstand. There'd be no room to move about, otherwise.

You cracked open the first box, choosing to ignore his quip, and your mouth watered at the sight of your favorite food inside. Ugh, even cold it smelled amazing. You shoveled it into your face with the flimsy plastic fork, newfound hunger making itself evident. You looked to Jayce, intending to thank him for the meal; but you found he was looking at you expectantly.

'What?" You asked through a mouthful of food.

"Did you want my help?"

Oh.

You swallowed.

"Sorry. Um, yes. That might be nice honestly. I could use a break."

He set his food aside, chuckling. "The first one wasn't enough?" He teased. You scowled, only pretending to be upset.

"Whatever man. Switch me places." You stood up to give him your chair, and he complied- though he had to pull the lever under the seat to lower it, to make room for his mile-long legs.

"Alright, let's see, here..."He squinted as he read your work, and you took the opportunity to admire him. God, he really was incredibly handsome. His long, calloused fingers looked enormous over your keyboard compared to your own. His bulky shoulders hunched forward, pulling the skin of his back taught over his muscles. You bit your lip, feeling your arousal coming back through your fatigue. He glanced at you, and you blushed when you caught him staring; as if you hadn't been together long enough by now that this wasn't embarrassing. But he still never failed to give you the warm-and-fuzzies so to speak. He smiled, laughing through his nose.

"What're you looking at?"

You twirled your hair with exaggeration. "Oh, yknow. Just this cute guy I have a crush on, or whatever," you flirted. He rolled his eyes, still grinning to himself.

"Eat your food, dork." He looked back to the screen, and you did what you were told.

It didn't take long. You wolfed down your dinner so fast you even surprised yourself. You stood to collect your trash, and kissed the top of Jayce's head before heading to the kitchen to dispose of it properly. When you came back, he was already standing up to stretch.

"It looks good to me," he said- with his arms over his head, his obliques were in full view and it made you just about weak in the knees. "I think it's ready to submit, if you're happy with it."

You thought about re-reading it one more time- just to be sure- but your brain was so foggy with exhaustion (and maybe some arousal). You trusted Jayce's judgement, too. He'd graduated summa cum laude last year, after all. You were sure he knew what he was talking about.

"Thank you, love. I really appreciate your help." You patted his chest with a weary smile, and sat down to submit it. When you were finally able to click your laptop shut, you were just about to collapse. You looked over to find Jayce already waiting for you in bed, and he opened his arms for you.

"C'mere, you," he crooned softly. You complied, shutting off the table lamp before you crawled across the blankets to meet him. He pulled them over the two of you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of mint and clean bedsheets. You suddenly felt self conscious, remembering you had forgotten to bathe.

You sat up. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick actually-" but he yanked you back down before you could move, burying his nose in your hair.

"Nooooo," he mumbled. "Stay with me."

"Jaaaayce," you whined, "I smell terrible. Wouldn't you rather I got cleaned up before bed?"

He didn't move, keeping you pinned between his arms. "Mmm, girl stink."

"You- what?" You sputtered, laughing at the absurdity. You tried to move, but he was already snoring softly. You couldn't tell if he was faking it or not, but you gave in anyway. You tangled your legs with his, letting his warmth overtake you and carry you to sleep at last.

[fumiscripts]

✦ GROW A GARDEN

“This is so stupid," Kaiser yawns, looking at his empty garden. “Is this really what's been hogging you from me? Gardening is so boring. It's like watching paint dry.”

“Hush, Micha,” you scold, followed by a quiet: “aw, there's nothing good,” at being disappointed at yet another seed restock. Kaiser frowns at his phone, trying to understand the game mechanics. He was here solely because of the fact he wanted to see the idiotic Roblox game that stole your attention from him.

He was determined to prove that it was nothing that could be better than him. Made an account and all. You think the way he named it "aufdieknielossers" was hilarious. Especially because he made a typo too. He didn't even bother changing his avatar, just friending your account, per your instructions, and joining you in Grow a Garden.

It took about five minutes of you explaining what things do. From the joystick to the experience mechanics. He still thinks this is a game for little kids, with the colorful map and lego-esque graphics. “Is rip underscore luffy 666 seriously begging for a... a candy blossom?” he scoffs, like that probably-eight-year-old was a peasant beneath him.

You laugh at him, staying near his garden while he plants strawberries. “Yeah. People do that sometimes," you explain. Suddenly, a weather event starts, and Kaiser side eyes you as you exclaim in glee. “Fuck yes! I've been waiting for a lightning event since forever!”

He rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath. “This game isn't even worth shit,” Kaiser gets bored of his empty garden and walks to yours, slightly stunned at the amount of giant, glowing, color-changing plants. “What the fuck?" it was clear that you were very much a try-hard. “... so this is where my money goes?”

Yes. Yes it was. You let out an awkward chuckle. You can't exactly deny that you did use his card— he let’s you to, anyway!— because he could just pull up his bank account records and find logs of money being spent on robux, of all things. Not even expensive meals or new clothes— but on a game currency. The things he tolerates for you...

Before you could reply, a text on the top of your screen leaves you bewildered. “... Did you just steal my rainbow, celestial, shocked, chilled, windstruck, honeyglazed, disco moon melon?” you didn't know how he even found out that you could steal from people, or when he linked up his bank to his Roblox account to buy robux to steal it.

“... No,” a small smirk makes its way to Kaiser’s face at stealing something that looked valuable-enough from your garden. Okay, maybe he can grow to like this game.

masterlist

© fumiscripts 2024-2025. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[gotta-winwin]

typo and error | SHOWBIZ COLLAB

⭐ starring: joshua hong 💌 genre: fluff, angst | wc: 3.7k

💬 preview: Joshua loves his job as social media manager for The Carat Company, except for one thing: the actress he’s in charge of. you hate his guts, and Joshua swears he returns those feelings with vigor, and yet…forced to work in close proximity, Joshua’s forced to reckon with the idea that just maybe, despite all the animosity, he’s still madly in love with you. 

cw/tw: social media manager!joshua x actress!reader, mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, enemies to lovers(?), light swearing, bit of crack, miscommunication trope, only one bed, brainrot hoshi, menace jeonghan

🪽fic rating: pg ☁️ masterlist & a/n: this is in direct correlation with @straylightdream's fic for the same collab! i feel so honoured to be apart of this wonderful community and i cannot believe it is finally time to share with you all this piece of work-- this collab was the beginning of it all for me: a thousand laughs and inside jokes, found family and forever friends. i am beyond grateful to be standing next to these wonderful writers and people. forever grateful to @studioeisa and @diamonddaze01 for being the tumblr parents i never knew i needed <3

now playing: tonight (i wish i was your boy) by the 1975

new actress y/n violet l/n looks absolutely grotesque in new photos from set. 

Joshua swears on his life and all things good that he meant to type gorgeous. 

He had half the mind to call Apple Services himself and complain about the terrible timing autocorrect had, as he sat in Wonwoo’s office, their company’s stern CEO staring at him from across his meticulously organized desk. 

“You’re telling me you managed to sour our new talent’s name in less than an hour of working her socials.”

Joshua lowered his gaze. “Yes.” 

Wonwoo pinched the bridge of his nose in a twinge of despair with annoyance swimming on his face. “Joshua, I cannot emphasize this enough. Our partnership with Ms. Y/N Violet needs to work. It has to.” 

“And it will.” Joshua nodded vehemently, trying to emphasize his false confidence in the matter. “I’ve got it, boss. Trust me.” Or don’t. Joshua didn’t really know what he was doing. 

Wonwoo sends him out with a few words that borderline as a threat. Words that sounded like don’t fuck this up, please and your job is on the line. 

Joshua swipes into Twitter and sees the amount of people who had screenshotted his mistake and posted it online. 

Poor social media guy, someone wrote. Don’t hate him for his fat thumbs! At least we got a good laugh. 

“Fuck me.” Joshua dials Jihoon’s number and prays the man picks up. “Hey, Hoon. I need a favour.”  

The actress I work for is going to hate me. 

“Hey.” 

It’s awkward when Joshua walks into your trailer on set. You’re poised on the makeup chair, your eyes closed as your makeup artist dusted pale pink shadow over your eyelids. You recognize his voice, and your eyebrows pinch. 

“Mr. Hong. You’re late.” You supposed it was unprofessional of you to still hold a grudge for Joshua’s social media mistake, but you couldn’t help it. 

“There was a hold up at the company.” Joshua tries his best to remain civil. There was just something about your face that infuriated him. It was too…perfect. Too pretty. 

He raises his camera and waits for you to pose in the perfected candid pose every actor and actress was taught. To look just the right amount of ‘caught off guard.’ Joshua snaps a few photos before throwing you a thumbs up. 

You motion for him to leave. “I need to rehearse my lines. In peace.” You add the last part pointedly, glancing at him through the mirror. 

He sits on the couch of your trailer, glasses perched on his nose that he looks at you with. He gives you a curt nod and exits. 

Ever the gentleman. 

But you knew that it was all a scheme. 

y/n violet l/n stuns in new photos captured on set. 

Joshua makes sure to double check, triple check, the caption before sending it out this time. 

He’s tried so hard to be nothing but perfect in the few months he had been working for you, as if each action could make up for the disaster of an entrance he had given you on their company’s social media page. 

Joshua made sure your favourite drinks and snacks were in your trailer before your arrival. He painstakingly edited every minute flaw from your photos. He kept eyeliner, lipgloss and a spare hair tie in his bag. He never complained when you asked him to reshoot a billion more photos. 

Yet for some reason, you were unwilling to forget the incident. It was clear to Joshua that you hated him. 

“Thanks.” You mutter as he hands you your morning cup of iced tea, stabbing the straw into the cup for you, mixing the ice just right. You pretend not to notice how Joshua has somehow learnt all your habits and preferences to a T within just a few months. 

He wordlessly hands you a napkin before you even ask. 

“Hey, Vi. You’re on set in 5.” The 1st AD pokes her head in to call you. 

“Okay, thanks.” 

Joshua takes your cup and napkin flawlessly and helps you down the steps. 

You hate how perfect he is.

He hates how he can feel himself caring about this job more than he should. 

fans rave over y/n violet’s assistant: internet calls him her prince-in-waiting. 

“I feel like you’re being underpaid.” Wonwoo says the next time Joshua finds himself in his office. “I hear from the rest of the staff that you’ve been doing other jobs.” 

Joshua doesn’t know what his boss is saying, and it’s evident on his face. 

“You’re not just Ms. L/N’s social media manager, you’re also her assistant and bodyguard.” Wonwoo explains, and Joshua realizes he’s got a point. 

“Oh.” 

“I’m surprised you haven’t come to me for a raise, Josh.” Wonwoo states quite frankly. “You’ve always been very good at advocating for yourself.” 

He shrugs. “It doesn’t really feel like a job.”

And the look on Wonwoo’s face tells him he’s said too much. 

“Really.” There’s an unmistakable smirk on Wonwoo’s face, the 5 - 9 Wonwoo peeking through the 9 - 5 Wonwoo for just a second. “Taking such good care of her doesn’t feel like a job.”

Joshua’s quick to backtrack. “No, I mean– I like my job.”

“Sure.” It’s obvious he doesn’t believe him.

Fuck me, Joshua thinks silently. 

Joshua can feel himself burning holes into the back of Jeonghan’s head as the man resurfaces from kissing you. 

“Cut!” He can hear the director yelling for the scene to end in the distance, yet all his senses are trained on you. 

How you pressed yourself into Jeonghan’s hold, melted into the kiss, let out the sweetest gasp into his lips. Joshua hated all of it. He hated how it made him feel. 

He watches Jeonghan whisper something into your ear, a hand brushing against your hair. 

Joshua glanced down only to realize he had been squeezing the paper cup filled with coffee in his hands, the contents slowly overflowing and dripping onto the floor. 

He looks back up and catches you looking at him.

“Fuck me.” 

You break away from Jeonghan as soon as you hear the cue from the director. 

“You alright?” Jeonghan’s quick to check in. 

You nod. “You?”

It’s an unspoken thing between the two of you, checking in with your onscreen counterpart in between work days and takes. “I’m good.” Jeonghan glances behind you and bites back a smile. “I’d say your social media guy isn’t though.” 

“Mr. Hong?” You flit your eyes over to the man in question. He’s standing near the side, your afternoon coffee in his hands and a scowl on his face. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“He’s in love with you.” Jeonghan says it as plainly as if he had just stated tomorrow’s weather. 

You choke on air. “What?” 

Jeonghan nears, his breath tickling your ear as he fixes your hair gently. “Look at how he tenses when I near you. How his eyebrows furrow. How he looks like he wants to murder me from across the room.” 

You look, and for a second, you see it too. 

And then you blink, and it’s gone. “You’re imagining things, Hannie.” 

Your social media guy does not love you. 

It’s the dead of night when Joshua lugs your suitcase into your hotel room. He sets it down and pats it awkwardly, scanning the room for any visible threats. He’s grown accustomed to his role in your life. He still hates how it makes him feel towards you– the feelings of love that he continues to push down until they disappear– but he’s content with his job. Wonwoo did end up giving him a raise for it. 

He was now your social media manager/personal assistant/bodyguard. The paycheck was exponentially high. 

“Of course, you forget to book yourself a room.” There’s a light tease in your tone as you stare at the one bed in the giant penthouse suite. 

“Sorry.” Is all he has to offer in response. He had forgotten, in the midst of all the press releases he had to manage with the movie trailer coming out, he had only thought of booking you a room and not him. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

You give him a look he can’t decipher. “No.” 

Joshua blinks. “Huh?” 

“I’m not making you sleep on the floor, Hong. We can both sleep on the bed. Just stick to your side.” 

He nods, ignoring the feeling that the two of you had just crossed into some unspeakable, unknown territory. 

He doesn’t know it, but you feel it too. 

It’s strange to see him out of his usual business attire. 

You’re trying not to stare at him from above your computer screen, but you fail, eyeing the casual wear your work counterpart has on. Joshua is concentrating on something on his phone, his lips twitching as his eyes move briskly over its contents.

“Stop staring.” 

You flinch when you’re caught. “I wasn’t.”

He laughs, and the sound startles you. “I can feel your beady little eyes on me, missy.” He teases, smiling at your insulted expression. 

“Do not insult me like that, Mr. Hong– you work for me, remember?” 

“Oh, do I now?” 

There’s a moment of silence as the two of you look at one another, sharing a secret smile before both quickly turning away. 

He swears at that moment he’s in love with you, and he hates that it’s true. 

You swear you hate him under your breath. You hate how you know it’s a lie. 

The sun begins to set as Joshua hands you your nightly cup of tea. Made just the way you like it, a dash of sugar and a spoonful of honey. 

He sits beside you and turns to look at you with determination on his face. “Can I ask you a question?” 

You frown. “Sure?” 

The question that comes out of his mouth is unexpected and a nice surprise. “Have you always wanted to be an actress?” 

“Yes.” You answer immediately. “Have you always wanted to be a…” You blank at his job title. A personal assistant? A bodyguard? Basically a boyfriend? Instead, you settle with the safest option. “...a social media manager?” 

Joshua thinks a beat too long before answering. “I guess.” 

“That doesn’t sound all too convincing.” 

“I mean– I don’t think anyone grows up wanting to be a social media manager.” 

He has a point. “What did you want to be then?”

Joshua thinks for a bit, as if the memory was already long gone and too distant to recover. “Astronaut, or something silly like that.” 

“I don’t think that’s silly. I mean–” You backtrack. “Everyone told me being an actress was a silly dream, but I’m here now.”

There’s a sour look on his face. “And I’m your social media manager.” 

“Yeah, a fucking good one.” 

He visibly brightens. “Really?” 

“I mean, you did mess up big time on that one post, but–”

“I am sorry about that.” He grimaces, and you know he really does feel bad. 

“You called me grotesque.” 

“I typed it wrong and stupid autocorrect–” 

You laugh at his indignant expression. “I’m joking, Joshua.” 

He joins in, and neither one of you notices how you had just called him by his first name. 

You look radiant in the mornings. Joshua swears on all things good and true that you cannot be real, and that you’re most certainly nothing short of an angel. 

“Good morning.” His morning voice catches you off guard. 

You turn around in bed to face him, momentarily stunned by the limited amount of space between the two of you. His hair is pushed in all directions, his eyes lazy and filled with sleep, yet– 

“Fuck me,” you think to yourself. Your social media guy was hot. But that had to just be the morning delirium talking. 

“You’re staring again.” He comments, his lips quivering into a tiny smile. “You’ve been doing that a lot.” 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“No.” You deny it once more. “I am not staring.” 

“Sure. Sure.” He reaches a hand over and moves a piece of hair away from your face.

You blink as he moves away. “Shut up.”

The banter comes as easy as hating him once did. And as the two of you watch the sun begin to rise again, you start thinking that maybe loving him can be just as easy too. 

y/n violet l/n eats up the red carpet with new look. 

You’re dazzling on the red carpet, and Joshua spends most of his time trying to stop his mouth from hanging open. 

He raises the camera and waits for you to fix your dress. 

“Is this okay?” You look at him, fingers toying with the hem of your skirt, the bodice of your dress cinching your waist uncomfortably. Your movement is limited as you attempt to adjust the fabric of your dress down to cover more of your legs. 

Joshua wordlessly steps in to help. He moves the fabric with practiced precision, his fingers brushing against your upper thigh as he steps away again. 

“It’s perfect.” He reassures you, raising his camera once more. “C’mon, work the camera, pretty.” 

Smiling for pictures comes easy when it’s Joshua behind the camera. 

He hums contently as he studies the photos. “Perfect.” Offering you his arm, Joshua escorts you into the venue. 

Neither one of you comments on the multiple compliments the two of you received throughout the event. How every single person that walked up to you mentioned how perfect he looked by your side. 

The sky is dark and crying by the time you’re ready to leave. 

Joshua holds his coat over your head, careful not to disturb the delicate headpiece sitting in your hair. You watch him study the pouring rain, as if calculating the best way to deliver you to the car. 

“I’m going to have to carry you.” He ultimately decides.

You gape at the suggestion. “What?”

He shrugs, pointing down at your feet and the diamond encrusted heels adorning them. “Neither one of us can afford your shoes getting soaked in the rain— what are those? A billion dollars as footwear?”

He swings you into his arms effortlessly and begins the trek. 

Rain hits his back as he carries you to the car, his hair sticking to his forehead as he blinks rainwater out from his eyes. You can’t help but stare and appreciate the moment for what it is. 

“Thank you, Joshua.” You whisper, as he gently sets you into the passenger seat of your van. 

He shoots you a bright smile. “Anytime. Fasten your seatbelt, princess.” He slides into the driver’s seat, reaching over to fix the tiara sitting in your hair. 

Your stomach flips. Fuckkk. 

y/n violet l/n and her prince-in-waiting spotted in a fairytale moment after gala. 

The headlines are everywhere in the morning. 

“People think we’re together, they’re calling it some fairytale romance come to life.” Your eyes read the comments left by fans faster than your brain can comprehend them. “Are you seeing this?”

You look up to see Joshua staring blankly at his phone. 

“Joshua!” You nudge him from his stupor. “The masses think we’re in love. Do something about it!” 

He blinks. “Like what?”

“I don’t know? You’re the social media guy, don’t you guys have some kind of handbook for situations like this? Release a statement or something–” You point an accusatory finger his way. “I told you carrying me like that last night was a bad idea.” 

There’s a shit eating expression on his face that you urge to smack away. “And what if we don’t?” He tests the waters. Hook, line–

“What?”

“What if we don’t release a statement?” 

“People think we’re in love.” 

“So? Maybe they're right.”

 And…sinker. His heart threatens to jump out of his ass. 

No one had more effectively rendered you silent than Joshua had right now. “I- what?” 

Joshua stares at you for a count of three. The bravery that had overtaken him a few seconds ago was gone now, and he was trying to muster up the courage to say something– anything. 

The first two notes of Bruno Mars’s Just The Way You Are starts playing and Joshua flushes, grabbing his phone to answer the call. “Hello?” 

Jihoon’s voice crackles to life. “You know you need to report this type of shit to me, right? Your HR department? Now– I would recommend you to not date the actress you’re working for, but since that’s already been done–”

Joshua cuts him off. “What– no, we’re not dating.” He darts his eyes to look over at you. You’re pointedly avoiding eye contact. “It’s just internet gossip.” 

“Right.” 

Joshua wonders what kind of things Wonwoo was telling the rest of the department heads if Jihoon also sounded like he didn’t believe him. 

“Well, as long as you’re not dating.” Jihoon concludes the call. “Bye.” 

Joshua lowers the phone to look at you. 

The moment’s over. You both can feel it. 

y/n violet, looking ravishing on set, answers questions at Buzzfeed. 

You don’t see Joshua for the next two weeks. 

He’s still posting snippets from the press tour you and Jeonghan are currently on, busy promoting your new movie, but the man himself has gone radio silent. 

You imagine he’s regretting the last night the two of you had spent together. 

“So? Maybe they're right.” 

You find yourself spinning the conversation over and over in the back of your head, as you rehearse your answers for the next interview. You overanalyze it, again and again, until you can’t tell the difference between what actually happened and what you’ve created in your head. 

It’s the way he had so quickly shut down the idea of dating you to Jihoon that stuck with you the most. The tone. The swiftness of his words. The lack of hesitation. 

Your temporary assistant hands you your morning coffee, and you take a sip. It’s too strong, too murky, not nearly enough ice. 

You find yourself missing Joshua. You recount every little snide comment you had ever made at him and feel that wave of regret, over and over. 

But buried deep within that regret is embarrassment, and it reigns far superior. The little voice inside your head whispers seeds into your mind. He probably hates you now. You’ve been nothing but rude, and awful, and dismissive. 

Your phone buzzes to life, and you see his name on the caller ID. 

You feel like throwing up as you let it ring. 

Joshua stares at the video of your latest interview and lets out a heavy sigh. 

You’ve been dodging his calls. Joshua hates to say it, but he understands. A big time actress, being caught on social media and accused of dating her glorified butler. 

He doesn’t know what possessed him to keep calling you, but he does. Once before clocking in to work. Once clocking out. Once before bed. 

Soonyoung tells him it’s pathetic. It probably is. 

“You need to let her go, man.” Soonyoung tells him as they leave the office building. “Is she really worth all this groveling?” 

“She’s worth everything.” Joshua finds himself admitting. 

“Shit, bro.” Their marketing manager fixes him with sympathetic eyes. “You’re so cooked.” 

Joshua frowns. “What does that even mean?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Wonwoo made the whole marketing team take this seminar on the new internet codes.” Soonyoung slaps him on the back. “If she’s worth that much to you, then show her.” 

“How? She won’t even pick up my calls. And our schedules barely line up anymore.” 

Soonyoung dangles his phone between his fingertips. “You’re the social media guy, right?” 

There’s a wicked spark behind those eyes. Fuck. 

y/n violet’s prince-in-waiting steps into the spotlight: is this love or just workplace loyalty?

You’re somewhere in Singapore getting ready for another interview when Jeonghan breaks into your trailer with a manic smile on his face. “Look at this article that just came out.” He thrusts his phone into your face. 

You blink at the headline. “What–”

“Your prince-in-waiting just blew up the whole internet.” 

You blitz through the article in record speed, catching snippets and quotes from Joshua. 

Working for her was a nightmare. Violet’s spoiled, high-maintenance, an all around princess. 

You push his phone away. “I don’t want to read all that.” 

Jeonghan groans. “Don’t just glance at it, read it. Like actually.” 

Working for her was a nightmare– I was forced to confront the reality that I wasn’t just doing all of it for the paycheck, I was doing it for her. 

Violet’s spoiled, high-maintenance, an all around princess– but that was okay. I didn’t mind it. I liked maintaining her. 

And finally, the last quote in the article. 

“I suppose when you spend that much time staring at one person’s photos… falling a bit in love with them is inevitable.” 

You blink. “Ava?” 

Your temporary assistant raises her head. “Yes?” 

“I need you to get Mr. Hong on the next flight over here.” 

y/n violet takes movie premiere by storm– bringing her prince-in-waiting as her plus one. 

Despite all that has changed in your relationship with Joshua, these events still remain the same.

He still gets on his knees to take the perfect pictures of you in your dress. He still brings you drinks whenever he notices you’re parched. Still carries your heels for you when your feet start aching on the way home.

Yet some things have changed: like the fact that his hand is now placed possessively on your waist as he navigates the crowd with you next to him. 

“I still don’t like that guy.” He mutters into your ear as you both say goodbye to Jeonghan and his date. 

You laugh. “He’s just Jeonghan.” 

“He’s kissed you.” He hisses, fixing your necklace so it sits perfectly on your collarbone. “And we both know he was cuddling up to you on set just to piss me off.” 

“Maybe.” You admit. “But that’s just Jeonghan.” 

“Whatever.” Joshua throws one last dirty look at the actor before fixing you with loving eyes. “You’re mine now, anyways. Right?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Wouldn’t you like to know, social media boy?” 

He pinches your hip in retaliation. 

The banter still comes easy. And you’re pleased to find out that loving him comes just as easy too. 

[eddiesxangel]

If you ever felt like it, would you be cool writing reader and Eddie; their best friends and they both perv for each other but never show it and she was invited to DND and she needs to rush to the bathroom to literally rub one out and Eddie silently makes his way to see what you’re up to

Just Friends |Perv!EddieMunsonX Perv!bestie reader

AN: I made it modern just to make it more pervy! hope you enjoy :) ps. If you see any typos no you didn’t 🤫

WC: 3.2k

It’s been almost a year since you and Eddie became friends, you’ve been inseparable since. You and Eddie first met when you were sleeping over at Nancy’s and Eddie was over for a DND session. You had literally run into Eddie, you smacked your face into his chest as you rounded the corner, in your pyjamas no less. You gave an awkward giggle and introduced yourself. You didn’t really recognize him, your lunch periods weren’t the same and he wasn’t in any of your classes. But fate swooped in, and due to that fated night everything changed. 

Eddie was struck by you the second you crashed into his chest. He had seen you occasionally with Nancy in the halls but never could come up with a good excuse to approach you. He thought you were cute, like really fucking cute. So cute to the point that when you did actually touch him (by accident) he popped a boner the second your sparkling eyes looked into his for the first time. Lame, he knows. He couldn’t believe you had this visceral reaction over his body, but all he could think about was your lips, how they moved when you spoke his name and how you smiled at him. Eddie was absolutely screwed, and he had to do something about it he just didn’t know how. So when you finally approached him at Mike’s one day he seized his one opportunity. Turns out you were really fucking cool, on top of being really fucking cute. 

Eddie wanted to spend the most amount of time with you that he could. He was always asking to hang out one on one. His favourite would be when you would ask him over to your house. He loved being able to have access to all things you. The first time he was invited over he couldn’t believe his luck. In the midst of your hang out, you had to take a phone call in the hallway and you left him alone in your room. Eddie felt like a creep the first time but he had to know. He found your underwear drawer, it was filled with soft cotton and lace. His eyes almost popped out of his head when his hands found your red lacy thong. Pocketing it and slamming your drawer ship when he heard you giggle goodbye. 

The second time Eddie was left in your room you told him you were going to take a quick shower, leaving him to his own devices for a least ten minutes, he saw your book on your nightstand, it had a cutesy little cartoon cover, very girly, he was planning on mocking you when you got back in because who reads romance novels? He opened up to where your bookmark was, and his eyes bulged open when he saw what exactly it was you were reading

His strong hands gripped my bare hips as he pinned me down to the bed. His fingers travelled down to my soaked pussy, slowly and agonizingly circling my sensitive clit. I begged for more but he only laughed, "Only good girls get what they want" he whispered and I ground my hips up into him the best I could, but his hold was too much. "Please' I begged. "Please Sir I will do anything, I want your cock so bad, I promise I'll be a good girl." I cried. He was torturing me...

Eddie could not believe his eyes, he had no idea you were so dirty. His best friend had another side to her that he had yet to see, that he would literally sell his soul to see. Oh to hear you say those dirty words to him that he had just read. He popped a boner just thinking about it. He hadn't time to fix it so he grabbed your cow squishmallow to put on his lap when you re-entered the room in nothing but your pink bath towel. You were literally going to be the death of him. 

You loved when Eddie would come over, but you also loved being in Eddie’s space. Being consumed by all things Eddie, the decor, the smell, the comfort of being surrounded by him. Eddie let you into his home anytime and all the time, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t home yet, you knew where the spare key was, he texted you he would be home in 40 minutes so you let yourself in and hung out until he got back. 

You walked into Eddie’s room and the urge to snoop was growing. You didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. Stashed under his mess of clothing was Eddie's laptop. Your hands couldn’t move fast enough to the search history. Luckily for you, he was dumb enough to be logged into everything automatically. You didn’t care that this was wrong, yet you wanted to know if he had been talking to anyone. You hadn’t seen him romantically attached to anyone in the almost year you’ve been just friends. You're sure he would tell you. However, the jealousy gremlin was nipping at your ear; telling you to keep going. 

After being unsuccessful at finding any dirt you continued through the search of his laptop and found a particularly interesting bookmark. You knew this was so wrong and he probably would never forgive you if he found out but you had to know what Eddie was into. 

You clicked on the link and a porn website opened. The video was of a woman solo touching herself, and using very racy language about what she would do to the watcher. It was much different than what you consumed when you were to indulge yourself, but it was starting to turn you on as you examined the naked woman spread out in front of you. Thinking about Eddie and what he would be doing while watching this…in this bed you were sitting on, naked, touching himself to her sexy words. You thought about how big he would be, how those delicious fingers would grip himself. You often found yourself dazing out while staring at his thick ring-clad fingers. Especially when he would practice guitar, and how quickly he could move them without missing a note. Your mind drifted and you found yourself lying down in Eddie’s bed. 

Trailing your hands down underneath the waistband of your jeans, you brought a worn t-shirt that was thrown on the bed up to your nose, it smelled so strongly of Eddie. Your fingers teased your clit edging yourself as you pretended they were your best friends. You thought of how it would be to have him on top of you, how it would feel to have his cock slip past your entrance. You hummed his name quietly over and over until the slam of the screen door made you jump and you snapped out of your bliss. You quickly exited the screen and slid the laptop under the pile of clothes that rested atop the bed before Eddie entered his room. 

A bright smile struck his face when he saw you there sitting in his bed. He was oblivious to what you had been doing seconds earlier. Eddie's mind spun with the scenarios he imagined the both of you in, preferably naked. He never divulged these fantasies, of course, he couldn’t have you finding out about what a perv he was for you, or else you would never let him near you again. 

Tonight Eddie invited you to watch in on Hellfire because you told him Nancy had a date and you had nothing to do this Friday night. You’d never attended before, you were always busy with Nancy. So when you showed up to game night you didn’t know what to expect. Eddie tried so many times to explain the game to you but you never really understood, there were too many rules and you’d always zone out as you watched his plump lips at work. Day dreaming of them on your lips, or on your neck, or on your pussy.

You walked up the the Wheeler household feeling a bit strange that you weren't here to see Nancy. You were let in by Mrs. Wheeler who was on her way out with Mr. Wheeler for a very rare date night.

"Hey guys" you greeted the group as you made your way down to the basement. 

“Hey, cutie" Eddie greeted back with the biggest smile on his face. 

It truly was a mystery to the others how the both of you weren't picking up one another's signals. You saw Mike roll his eyes after Eddie spoke but you took it like he didn't was his annoying sister's friend here to ruin their ritual. Little moments between you two were clear as day to any onlooker but to the both of you, you were oblivious. Too blind to see the signs because you’ve convinced yourselves that the other one would never share the same feelings. 

You had settled in sitting on the couch behind the DND table so you could give them space without crowding around. Eddie was directly facing you so you could see everything but still do your own thing.

As the night progressed you’d been so turned on by Eddie’s performance. The passion that filled him, the way he deepened his voice, the gaze in his eyes as he described the frightening scenes that played out for the club members. Everything that you lusted for from Eddie was heightened by 100 tonight. Eddie had such a hold over you that he didn't even know about. 

You crossed your legs trying to focus on the tiktoks you tried distracting yourself with however they were not helping because it had been a bunch of thirst traps and sexy excerpts from romance novels. Yes, you were on Booktok and no you were not ashamed of being an avid smut reader. 

Since the distractions were not working and the throbbing between your legs was becoming unbearable you needed to excuse yourself, and quickly. You barely mumbled that you needed the washroom before sprinting to the main floor to find some peace in the powder room. 

You shut the door so quickly you may have accidentally slammed it which altered Eddie's even more. He was worried about you. You'd been squirming on the couch looking very uncomfortable, and then you ran out of there like a bat out of hell. He knew he needed to see if you were okay, maybe you had gotten your period or something? 

Eddie walked up the steps and called out your name but there was no answer. As he rounded the corner he noticed the light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He walked closer and heard your muffled voice but couldn't make out the words. As he approached the door he almost knocked but froze halfway when he heard your voice loud and clear.

"Eddie please" you moaned. Eddie couldn't believe his ears because there was no way this was happening...until you did it again.

"Fuck me please, Eddie right there!" you gasped. Your clit had been throbbing the whole time you’d been downstairs you couldn’t help but relieve it. You were silently watching the secret video you had taken of Eddie while he was commanding the game. It has turned you on so much, and watching it back was even better. Eddie didn’t know what to do. But he had to think quickly because his time was limited. He hesitantly knocked on the door and cleared his throat before he spoke. “ uhhh are you alright right in there?” he stuttered out his words. The knock on the door scared you. You let out a small scream as you ripped your hands away from yourself and up to your chest feeling your heart pounding. How much had Eddie heard? How much does he know you don’t think you’re being that loud? Where are you? Oh shit, maybe you were? 

“Uhhh I’m-I’m fine Ed’s” you managed to stutter. Oh my god, you were mortified. The handle of the door giggled like Eddie was trying to come in. “Come on sweetheart open the door I really need to come in,” he continued on jiggling the door until you unlocked it. Eddie needed to seize this moment. He was never going to have another opportunity like this.

“Eddie I-” You didn’t finish your sentence because Eddie had cut you off with a kiss as he cupped your face while backing you into the opposite wall. “You’re such a little pervert. I know what you think about now when you want to touch yourself, do you think about me and what my fingers can do to you huh?” Eddie broke away from the kiss and started kissing down your neck. All of this was so sudden. You had no idea that this was going to happen when you had left the basement. “I’m not a pervert!” You defend yourself. “No baby? So if I took your hand and sniffed these fingers I wouldn’t smell your pussy all over them?” he cocked his brow. “And I didn’t hear you moan my name twice just now?” He hummed. You had never heard Eddie speak like this, not even in your wildest dreams did you think he had such a filthy mouth. “You want me, baby? I heard you and your dirty words through the door. Do you want Eddie to make you feel good? Can’t get off without me? That's it huh?” Eddie’s cockiness was only making you wetter. “Fuck Eddie I need you I have needed you for so long. Please touch me.” You gasped as his plump lips sucked the delicate skin of your neck.

“Could have just asked baby, I would give you the world” His hand grazed up your leg to the open zipper of your jeans until his calloused fingers found the waistband of your baby pink panties. Your breath hitched as he found his way into your pants, brushing over the short hair of your mound to your slick wet slit. “Oh oh oh baby,” he chuckled darkly “you’ve been hiding this from me? I don’t think you deserve me to touch you, you’ve been very naughty. Tell me, baby, you always get this wet for me? What other dirty things do you do when I’m not around?” Your mind was numb with pleasure as Eddie slowly made contact with your pussy lips. He was being so mean like he was punishing you, grazing everywhere but your clit. “Fuck. Eddie please” you beg girding your hips up into his fingers to get some relief.

“I don’t think so sweetheart” you’ve been a very bad girl. “Have I? You try to spit back. “I recall you stealing my favourite pair of panties. Don’t play innocent Munson. I found them in your room yesterday.” You chide.

Eddie kissed you to shut you up. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth as you moaned in pleasure. Your slippery slick coated Eddie’s fingers as they prodded their way up into your tight hole. “Oh, Eddie!” You sighed. “Fuck say my name again” he growled.

“Eddie!” You moaned throwing your head against the wall. His fingers were so thick. He really knows how to work his fingers. “That’s it scream my name” his cocky smirk hasn’t left his face. All disregarding everyone downstairs, you didn’t try and keep quiet. Eddie watched your chest heave as your breasts raised and fell. His free hand scaled up your shirt over your bra. His hands explored your breasts and he pulled down the cup to free you. His hands worked your nipple and your clit. The way his fingers felt exploring your body only made the feeling in your core build and build. Eddie dipped his head to take your perked nipple in his mouth. You arched your back into him and his warm tongue latched onto you. A soft “Eddie baby” slipped from your lips as you were washed away with the feeling of everything Eddie. You were getting so close so fast, you had already warmed yourself up and Eddie was here to take all of the credit. Not that you’re complaining but the coil in your core was being wound up so tightly you need for it to snap. “I'm so close! please don’t stop.” 

“Oh, so you are a good girl who knows her manners, go on then, on cum for me baby” 

Eddie kissed the sweet spot on your neck while playing with your nipple with one hand and your pussy with the other. Your senses were on overdrive and you were bumming from his words. Your body shook and your release dripped down Eddie’s fingers. A few seconds later after you come down from your high you realize that he was having all the fun and you haven’t touched him yet. You graze your hand down his stomach, to the button of his black jeans. You quickly moved your fingers to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slide down the bathroom wall and get on your knees in front of Eddie. He gathered your hair in his hands and you pulled out his cock. “You’re complaining about me hiding from you when you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?” You don't hesitate. You start making out with the base of his cock moving your way up to the tip. You coddle his balls in one hand and use the other to tease the tip of his red cock. “Fuck” Eddie sucks in a breath. You continue to worship his cock. How could you not? It was so pretty, long and thick, and slightly curved to the right. Hearing Eddie whimpering above you was music to your ears. You loved the feel of the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled your tongue on his tip taking in the taste of his precum before sliding down his length to the hilt. His pubs tickled your nose but you ignored that as you hummed onto his cock. You bobbed your head up and down. It was messy and it was loud. 

“Baby fuck fuck fuck if you keep going like that I’m-” Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before he came down your throat. The hot thick liquid ran hot down your throat. “Shit I’m sorry I’m sorry” he panted as you continued to suck him dry. Humming in satisfaction. Eddie finally loosened the grip of your hair as you pulled back and opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you’d swallowed it all. Eddie’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected you to be so filthy, just for him. He pulled you back up by your hair to stick his tongue down your throat. A giggle left your mouth and he pulled away. 

“We are so doing that again” he breathed. 

A pounding on the bathroom door made you both jump. 

“We get it you guys are disgusting! Let's get back to the game please!” The sound of Lucas’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. You could practically hear his eye-roll. Eddie and you burst out laughing “Come on baby, the Dungeon Master needs to finish up and then I will be seeing you later for more” Eddie left you in the bathroom, flushed and more than satisfied. You couldn’t wait for him to finish that sexy little game. 

[roxoxoxoxy]

Prompt 25 26 and 31 for antonnnnn

You cooked with this one anon, also this is so long and probably had more plot than you wanted, my bad 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Prompt game list

Made this kind of hurt/comfort? Sorta? Reader gives in super fast. Also have you guys seen that clip of Anton's dad talking about how Anton used to sing rewrite the stars in the shower? He's so cute.

Obligatory this will have typos and grammar is a loose concept here.

25- "Do you know what you do to me?" As they press kisses down your stomach.

26- "You're such a pervert.." You mumble, a shy smile curving your lips. "Only for you, mia cara," They mutter kissing your aching breasts.

31- They drop the towel from their waist and crawl onto the bed, caging you. "What are you going to do to me?" You ask, your fingers dancing a trail down his chest.

Minors dni

You consider slamming the door when you enter Antons apartment, making your anger known to him in a way he can't ignore but decide it's ultimately not the best idea. You instead settle on throwing your shoes aggressively on the floor as you change into your slippers, entering the living room to voice your upset at him.....only to see he's not there.

That only serves to piss you off more, he was a no-show on your anniversary date and he's not even at his own apartment? The thought of him ditching you to go hang out with someone else is about to give you a fucking aneurysm when you suddenly hear sounds coming from his bathroom. Getting closer to the door you can hear him singing 'rewrite the stars', if you weren't so mad at him you'd find this cute. Right now it's just annoying.

You take a deep breath, setting down the leftovers from the restaurant you were waiting at him for on the coffee table. You don't even want to call them left overs, you barely touched your food waiting for him to show you. It might as well be take out. You sit down on his couch, silently waiting for him to get out, stewing in your anger.

Anton being Anton he takes an unimaginable amount of time in the shower, by the time he comes out it's already been over thirty minutes and your anger as simmered down into a mix of sadness and exhaustion. The fancy dress you picked out to wear is starting to feel uncomfortable and the feeling of your jewelry against your skin is overstimulating you.

When he finally comes out of the shower he's wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he looks so good with his hair wet and muscles out that you consider forgiving him right then and there, thankfully your self-respect kicks in before you can really commit to that decision.

Anton looks surprised to see you, he's halfway through forming a smile when you see him connect the dots. The way you're dressed, the food on the table, what day it is. His face goes from joy to shock to guilt like he's a cartoon character, it almost makes you laugh.

"oh......shit." he says, voice sounding deflated.

"Yeah." You think about something actually clever and snappy to say back to him but come up with nothing. You're just so upset.

"I set an alarm." He blurts out, looking both awkward and confused at the same time.

"I'm sure you did." You say, sarcastically. The look he gives you almost makes you regret saying that. He looks guilty, with the eyes of a kicked puppy but when you remember what it was like watching the waiter come back to you and ask you over and over if you were ready to order. The staff looked at you with such pity that thinking about it is making you angry all over again.

"I'm sorry" he comes closer to you, reaching to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I'm so so sorry....what can I do to make it up to you? Please I'll do anything, I love you"

"Yeah I felt pretty loved today." You pull your hands away from his, folding your arms across your chest. Anton kneels Infront of you, his hands on your knee, looking up at you.

"Please don't be like that" Your resolve melts a little, you sigh looking down at him.

"Make it up to me then." Anton raises and eyebrow at the way you phrased that, trying to gauge whether or not you're implying what he thinks you're implying.

"You wanna have sex? Right now? I thought you were mad at me" His tone is teasing, a grin plastered across his face.

"Shut up. You're the one who's basically naked. If you keep teasing me I'll go back to being upset with you" Anton shuts up but he's still had that cocky smile on his face. He reaches to pick you up, princess carrying you to his room. You can't help but get a little flustered at his strength, he didn't even grunt when he picked you up.

He kisses you on the way to his room, giggling against your mouth as you fumble to open his bedroom door without breaking the kiss. After a tad bit more struggling you finally manage to open the door and he sets you down on the bed. He drops the towel from his waist and crawl onto the bed, caging you.

"What are you going to do to me?" You ask, your fingers dancing a trail down his toned chest, taking in his naked body with no shame. He's been working out more recently, he's on a calorie surplus to gain more muscle so his biceps look extra bite-able lately. He has that boyish smile on his face as he watches you admire him, a mix of cocky and bashful.

"Nothing you won't like." He whispers against the skin on your neck before nibbling on it. Your back arches slightly, giving him just enough room to slide his arm under you, pressing you as close against him as he can. He pulls back, pulling off your dress so fast you almost complain about him being too hasty. He cuts you off by slowly kissing down your body, leaving open mouthed desperate kisses down your collarbone.

"You're such a pervert.." You mumble, a shy smile curving your lips.

"Only for you, princess" He mutters, kissing your aching breast. He takes the nipple into his mouth, using his tongue to stimulate it, causing small tingles of please to crawl up your body. He uses his hand to squeeze the other breast, massaging it softly before he switches sides. You whine, unintentionally raising your hips.

"Anton...cmon..." You say, you're just short of begging him to keep going to where you need him most. pouting when he giggles at your words.

"Who's the pervert now? Why don't you tell me what you want me to do? Hm?" You roll your eyes, looking away from him.

"You're taking a lot of liberties for someone who missed our anniversary dinner" that seems to shut him up, he bites the inside of his cheek.

"Ah....I should probably save the teasing for another day" you're starting to worry you killed the mood when Anton leans back up to plant a sweet kiss on your mouth, making out with you for a bit until you're out of breath.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He asks, kissing back down your body. "You looked so good in that dress, I'm kicking myself over not being there to admire you at the restaurant. Wish I had time to soak all of you in"

He reaches your thighs, lowering his face to right above your knee, slowly starting to kiss up your inner thigh. His kisses get more messier the closer he gets to your cunt, making you squirm. He uses his hands to hold you down, you can feel him chuckle against you, his breath hot against your skin.

You can't help but think he looks pretty like this, his hair is wet and unstyled, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. You almost start to zone out looking at him when the feeling of lips pecking your clit snaps you out of it. You let out a involuntary whine, reaching down to tangle your hand in his hair as he begins to suck on your clit softly.

"Fuck- Anton that feels so good-" He moans in response, which only intensified the feeling. He moves down, his tongue finding your entrance and pushing in. He brings tongue fucking you, using his hands to hold you down when you start squirming again. He shifts his hands down so they're cupping your ass, lifting you off the bed slightly and pulling back his face.

"Grind against my face." His voice is thick and desperate, voice shaky from trying to catch his breath. "I know how much you like my nose."

You shut him up by pushing his face down again, doing as your told and grinding against him. His nose feels perfect, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit every time you grind on his face. You can't hold back your moans, if your mind wasn't clouded from pleasure you'd be embarrassed by how loud you're being.

"Anton I'm getting close"

He lets out a deliciously loud moan when you say that, the vibrations tipping you over the edge. You squeeze your thighs around his face as you cum, riding out your high by holding his face down. By the time you're done Anton's face is soaked in you. His lips are swollen and his hair is somehow even more of a mess. He licks his lips, not breaking eye contact when he sits up.

"Forgive me yet?" You're still catching your breath but you manage to sit up, reaching down to wrap your hand around Anton's hard cock. It's all red and needy from eating you out, the tip has a drop of precum oozing out of it. Anton can't hold back from hissing at the feeling of your hand, clearly pent up.

"No, i think you still have some making up to do"

This is way longer than I wanted it to be LMAO, any interaction is appreciated.

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The first month in Jackson passes by slowly. Joel wishes you'd confront him about the past but fear has your lips sealed tight.

Warnings: 18+ Language, SA (Not by Joel), Starvation, Animal Death, Eating Disorders, Plastic boobs, and Lingerie (do we need a warning for those things?) Joel and Reader are pros at avoiding the elephant in the room!

Word Count: 4.1k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

I didn't have much time to edit this one so sorry if there are typos :)

December 31, 2023

Joel carefully set the table according to Maria's directions. His new sister-in-law had decided that a New Year's Eve dinner would be appropriate for this year. Of course, drinks with the rest of the community at the Tipsy Bison would follow.

He eavesdropped on Ellie and Tommy's conversation from the other room.

"And then, you just keep mixing like this." Tommy explained, "And then...slowly fold in the sugar."

"You're pretty good at this." She compliments

"Had a real good teacher."

When he and Ellie stepped into the warm home, Joel could hardly believe what he was seeing. His younger brother was wearing a purple and green apron, baking a fleet of cupcakes to share with the rest of Jackson. Twenty years ago, Tommy would've eaten half-frozen pizza bites and dubbed it "a healthy dinner."

Joel had no idea how Maria had turned his brother into the Pillsbury Dough Boy, but he had to admit it was one of the funnier things he'd seen in a while.

Speaking of Maria, Joel swore he'd eventually win her over. He was pretty sure she was slowly warming up to him. After all he'd only been in Jackson a month or so and here he was invited to a family dinner.

"Dude, your brother is like...the best baker in the world," Ellie says as she shuffles into the dining room.

"Really? Last time I saw him he was still burning Chef Boyardee." Joel teases

"That was years ago, asshole!" Tommy's voice calls to defend himself, "I'm a great cook now. Besides I don't recall you being some Master Chef, Joel."

"Two days you burned that bacon I brought home from that Jesse kid," Maria said flatly as she checked on the ham in the oven.

"You're not helping."

"I wasn't trying to."

The sudden gust of cold air has Joel turning his attention the the front door that has slammed against the wall behind it.

"Shit, it's so windy out there!"

He'd know that voice anywhere, how could he forget it? Ever since his arrival in Jackson, he practically heard it every time he closed his damn eyes. 

Joel watched as you hung your coat up and pulled your boots off before greeting Maria who was already standing there with open arms. He awkwardly stood as you greeted Tommy with the same amount of enthusiasm before letting your gaze fall on him. 

He feels his mouth dry up as you take him in. What is he supposed to say? Hi? Long time no see? Sorry, I broke up with you and then the world ended? 

Lucky for him a certain 14-year-old is there and always ready to fill the silence. 

“Hi, I'm Ellie.” 

Joel watched as she bounced right up to you, eager to get to know the new stranger. 

“I know…I've uh seen you around the stables.” You say slowly

“Oh yeah! That foal Shimmer she's super cute!” 

Dinner is awkward or well, Joel is awkward. He sits next to Ellie and listens to her talk your ears off about this and that, mostly mundane things like her comics or fun facts about space. You listen intently, adding comments here and there and Joel's reminded of the way you'd listen to Sarah's ramblings. 

Tommy nudges his foot under the table and Joel looks up to see Maria looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” He asks 

“I was asking if you'd want to try your hand at patrol later this week. Tommy said you're not fitting in with any of the other jobs around here.” She says 

The idea is a great one, truly. Joel has felt rather trapped the past month behind Jackson's huge walls. Leaving again would feel like a breath of fresh air. 

“That’d be great.” He nods in thanks, thinking of how nice it'd be to do something other than bake bread or sweep stables. 

“Good.” Maria smiles before turning to you, “And you, can show Joel the ropes.” 

Joel nearly chokes on his food and he hears you sputter into your glass of water. 

“What?” 

Three days later and It's around 7 in the morning when Maria forces you and Joel out of the gates of Jackson. Mounted on horseback Joel follows your lead as you explain the basic route. 

“We'll stop down at this mall today. Sweep for infected and people.” You say, “There's a Macy's that hadn't been cleared out yet, Ellie might like some of the girl's clothes there.” 

Joel nods, he hasn't said anything much to you, only asking a few questions. Truly, he's not sure what to say. Does he start with small talk, the weather, how Shimmer is doing? Or does he dive right in to address what both of you dance around? 

Joel follows you around, listening to you talk about the route, what you normally see, and how many people you've run into in the past few months. Unsurprisingly, he's good at all of it, asking the right questions and following your lead. Now, as you stand in the ruins of Greenpines Mall, you watch him sift through racks of the Juniors section of Macy's. 

“Can I help?” You ask, probably tired of just standing there in silence and watching him.

“Uh, yeah. She's into space and dinosaurs. Probably a size small in everything but hoodies. Said she likes em’ oversized.” 

You nod and walk to another rack, pushing different items aside and mumbling about how hard it was going to be to find a dinosaur in the teenage girl's section.

Joel stuffs a few items into his backpack and you're able to find a nice maroon sweatshirt. 

“The men's section is that way.” You point to your left, “I'm gonna uh… go upstairs and grab some stuff for myself.” 

“Should stick together.” Joel reasons, following where your finger points “Safer like that.” 

You look at him and he hopes you can tell he's being fully serious. His brows pinch together, anticipating you'll reject him. 

“Fine. But no complaining.” 

Joel wasn't expecting to find himself in the lingerie section of the store. The embarrassed huff he lets out has you laughing. At least you were happy about all this. 

“Quit whining, I just need a few new bras.” You sigh turning away from him as he stands there, making sure his eyes remain fixed on the floor. 

Just because the world had ended didn't mean he wanted to be surrounded by racks of ladies' underwear and bras.

You only get about twenty steps from him and he takes a small step back, bumping into something tall. A loud curse falls from his lips as he tries to catch the mannequin he's knocked over. 

“God bless it…” He groans, trying to stand her back up. 

He catches the way you roll your eyes when his hands land on the mannequin's plastic tits, perfectly obscured bythe  red lace of some skimpy overpriced thing. 

He didn't mean to do that, he swears. 

“Maybe don't grope the models, Joel.” You tease 

“I'm not.” Joel snaps, finally getting it to stand again, “Walked into it by accident.” 

“Sure you did.” 

Joel didn't know what to expect from you today. Stony silence had been at the top of his list. Teasing him though? That hadn't been anywhere on his radar. 

You're so different yet familiar at the same time, it's driving him up the wall. 

He keeps his eyes on the floor as you hum an unknown tune, picking different things up for yourself, and muttering about sizing.

Joel lets out a grunt when you shove something into his chest. 

“Give these to Ellie too.” You say, “In the apocalypse, a girl can never have too many sports bras.” 

He doesn't bother looking at the fabric in his hands, trusting your judgment and simply moving to place it next to the shirts he's already picked up for Ellie. 

The ride back to Jackson is quiet. No teasing words from you, and the horse's trotting fills the silence as a few birds chirp as they fly overhead. 

The fact that you seem content not to mention anything from the past has Joel's stomach in knots. Surely you can't be okay with it all? He's spent the past month worrying about how he'd ever address any of it. 

“We're not gonna talk about it?” He asks

“About what?” You ask “You mean the mannequin? I was just kidding about that, Joel.” 

“About us.” He says quietly 

A beat of silence and then, 

“What do you want me to say, Joel?” 

“Anythin’. Yell at me. Scream. Slap me.” Joel huffs, “Don't wanna spend time dancin’ around our past. Let it all out.” 

You let out a scoff that has Joel's stomach dropping, 

“I don't see why I should do any of that. It was 20 years ago, Joel. I've made my peace with it.” 

Joel looks over at you, taking in the way the setting sun makes your features glow. Your gaze is fixed on the gates of Jackson. They're only half a mile away but they might as well be half a million with the way your gaze is so permanently fixed on them. All of a sudden, you're adamant about not looking at him. 

A dozen things swarm in his mind. Half of him wants to get off his horse, pull you off yours and shake you until you come to your senses, to urge you to put him through the ringer and really let him have it. The other half of him is telling him that you look really good today and that he noticed your bra size has gone up since 2003. 

God, he was losing it. 

So many things that could be said, perhaps should be said yet all that comes out of him is, 

“Alright, suit yourself.” 

For the next two weeks,  Joel doesn't see much of you. Every once in a while he peaks through the curtains of his own home, hoping to get a glimpse of you returning but, he never does.

Ellie of course, takes immediate notice of his window-watching and declares that he ‘has a huge crush on the horse lady next door!’. 

To Joel's mortification, she takes this information to Maria who tells Tommy, and before Joel knows it he's being teased by his younger brother in his own damn home. 

“And she doesn't know anything about you and her?” Tommy asks one evening over a glass of whiskey 

“No. And I'm keeping it that way. So don't go running your mouth.” Joel says glaring at his younger brother. 

Tommy raises his hands in Innocence. 

“If Ellie finds out it won't be from me.” He says, “But she'll find out, eventually. You know that right, Joel?” 

“No, she won't.” 

You spend more time and effort avoiding Joel than you should. At first, you thought you might be able to work around your shared past, but you teased him on your one and only shared patrol shift. But, when Joel asked you to share your thoughts on the past, you had clammed up. It was then, half a mile from Jackson's gates that you knew you wouldn't be able to be friendly with him. 

You didn't know what Joel wanted. He said he wanted you to scream at him, to curse him out about a three-month relationship that happened 20 years ago. And maybe, if he'd shown up a few years back with Tommy you might've. Instead, it's like your mouth has been glued shut about it all. 

Over the past two weeks, your mind had conjured a thousand different things to say to him. Some are full of anger, others sadness. But, you never say any of them. Instead, you choose to avoid him, trading patrol shifts and even taking graveyard shifts at the wall to put distance between the two of you. 

Maria had coined it one day after you invited her over for lunch so you could talk to her about her baby. 

“You're scared.” She said after listening to the way you described not being able to confront him about it.

“Scared?” You scoff as you shove a spoonful of soup into your mouth, “He should be scared of me.” 

“You're scared it'll happen all over again. That he'll leave you like he did back then.” 

Maria was so wrong. Honestly, she was losing her mind. You chalked it up to the baby. Yes, that evil little fetus was probably munching away at her brain to grow its own. Ironic since Cordyceps pretty much did the same thing. 

Scared? You weren't scared of Joel Miller. No, not in a thousand years.

Wednesday, January 21, 2024. A day that Joel was going to mull over probably for the rest of his life. After all, it marked the start of a friendship.

He was surprised to find you already in the stables, ready for patrol for the day. Finally, you'd turned up instead of some random person you'd found to switch shifts with. 

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He says, the name flying off his tongue before he can stop it. 

You shoot him a look he can't quite place as he saddles up his horse, Turnip. 

“Don't do that.” You huff as you stroke your own horse, Pepper's mane avoiding eye contact with him. 

“What?” Joel asks dumbly knowing full well you mean the nickname he'd let slip. 

How many times had he called you that back in the day? Over the three months, it must've been well over a thousand. 

“ Don't give me little nicknames with that stupid voice of yours and pretend you don't know what you're doing.” You scold 

“Sorry.” Joel sighs, pulling himself onto his horse as you saddle up, “Wait you think my voice is stupid?” 

The day goes by smoothly. No infected or people to be seen. Joel is surprised when you point out deer tracks. 20 years ago you'd shuddered at the idea of blood, now you were plotting the demise of some deer that wasn't even here. 

“It's probably long gone.” He says 

Your face falls in disappointment, “Really?” 

“Tracks are old. There's snow drifts over a few of them too.” He points at the ground to the prints that are further up.

“Damn…I thought I had it this time.” You huff 

“Tracking isn't easy.” Joel says, “Takes time.” 

“Tommy's been teaching me, but I'm not really good at it.” You sigh 

Joel feels jealousy swirl in his chest. What was he even jealous of? His married brother teaching his ex-girlfriend a vital survival skill in the apocalypse? There was something seriously wrong with Joel's brain these days. 

“You're better than Ellie. She wouldn't have even seen the tracks, let alone been able to tell that it was a deer.” 

“So you're saying I'm a bit better than a 14-year-old who doesn't even know what the Internet was?” 

Joel shrugs and gives you a small smile. 

“Thanks, Joel. I appreciate it.” You roll your eyes 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

A sharp glare is sent to him and he sits up a bit straight. Turnip snorts as he falls into step beside Pepper. 

“Sorry, I'll stop. I swear.” 

Joel watches as you munch away at deer jerky and dried pieces of fruit. He takes note of the way you practically engulf your lunch. He'd noticed the same thing a few weeks back at the New Years Eve dinner. You'd shoved your entire plate of the delicious ham Maria had made into your mouth in record time. Even Ellie had taken more time to eat the meal and Joel had recently watched the kid eat three cookies in what was basically one bite. 

“Slow down.” He warns “You're going to choke.” 

You look up from your food, staring at him with wide eyes and a stuffed mouth that probably would put chipmunks to shame.

“This is slow.” You say after you somehow swallow it all. 

Joel raises a brow at that. Do you even realize you've put away nearly double what he had in half the time? 

During your time together you'd often reminded Joel of a bird. Picking at different foods and then slowly eating whatever you deem good. In true college student fashion, most of those foods had been pizza and greasy Chinese takeout. Not that he could blame you, he also thoroughly enjoyed both of those things way back when. 

The woman who sits In front of him is not the one he dated as a 35-year-old man. You're even eating the raisins out of the trail mix, and Joel knows you hate raisins. 

“Just…take a breath. Drink some water.” He says, eying you carefully, pushing the canteen towards you. 

You huff and unscrew the cap, drinking a bit before shutting it again. 

“Happy?” 

“Yes,” Joel says 

Back on the horses, Joel notices the way you're looking a bit ill. Your face is screwed up a bit and he can tell you're nauseous. It's from eating too quickly, he can tell. You'd eaten all of your food and then when he'd offered some of his own, you'd enthusiastically taken him up on it. Normally he'd have no issues with it but it was the speed that concerned him. 

“Wanna stop for a bit?” He asked, hoping you weren't going to puke onto poor Pepper's head. 

You nod and quickly dismount from Pepper. Joel ties the horses off on a nearby tree before walking over to you. Patrol be damned, he had to make sure you weren't going to lose all the food you just ate. 

You're curled up on yourself, your head resting on your knees as he sits down next to you. 

“You okay?” He asks 

“Sorry.” You mumble sadly into your knees 

“For what?” Joel asks, “You're doing me a favor, getting me off that horse. My back is aching.” 

“Sorry for being a glutton. I ate all my own food and then some of yours…” You groan, “I'm disgusting.” 

“You're not a glutton.” Joel says, “Being hungry isn't a crime. Just gotta eat it slower. You're making yourself sick.” 

You're silent for a moment, probably weighing your options as Joel runs his gloved hands through the snow. And then, in a voice so quiet it nearly missed it, you speak again, 

“It's not my fault…” 

Joel looks over at you, your head is back up, and you're focused on the threads of your jacket and the way they've begun to pull away from the seam. 

“It's not my fault.” You say again, a bit louder again

“What's not your fault?” Joel asks, unsure of where this is going 

“The doc at the clinic says it's…that it's because of the time I spent with them. It's because of them that I can't eat normally anymore.” You say sadly 

“Spent time with who?” Joel asks 

“Adam. And the others. Especially the leader, he was missing two teeth.” You say, staring at your hands 

“Who's Adam?” Joel asks softly 

He wants you to look at him, even just the smallest glance right now would bring him some peace of mind. This Adam, Joel wanted to know who he was, where he was, what he'd done. 

All of a sudden, you're staring right at him, eyes glossed over with fear, 

“No one.” You whisper “No one at all.” 

May 2017 

Loki had been dead for two weeks. Two weeks since you'd been tied to this tree, two weeks of no food and just stale water poured from the redhead's canteen in the middle of the night. 

The redhead, Adam, pours you water each night after the others have passed out. He's supposed to be keeping watch, not making sure their newest toy is hydrated enough not to die. 

“Slow down.” He says, the back of his hand on your head as he holds the canteen to your lips 

When it's finally empty you look at him. He has blue eyes, something you hadn't taken note of before. 

“You need to eat it. They won't give you anything else until you do.” He advises 

Adam points at your feet where a small bag sits. You know what he's talking about. The leader, the one who reeks and is missing his two front teeth took special care to dry out a piece of your pet. Each day he'd demand you eat the jerky that was made from Loki. 

“I can't.” You say 

“They'll let you starve. I've seen it before with other girls.” Adam says, pulling a piece of the jerky out, “Just one bite, and I bet he'll give you deer tomorrow.” 

“Why should I?” You hiss “Why should I bother eating? So I can be strong for whenever you want to use me? I'd rather starve than extend my time here with you.” 

Adam looks at you, his face unreadable. You watch as he stands back up, backing away from you and your tree.

“Fine, starve then.” 

Another week passes before he coaxes a bite of the jerky into your mouth. The leader sees this, and claps you on the back, 

“What a good whore you're going to be.” 

The next day, a small bowl of venison-filled soup is presented to you. 

Adam spoons it into your mouth bite by bite cooing to you that you're doing so well. 

When you've finished the bowl, you want to ask for more, but Adam has you standing up.  Before you can protest or ask for more food,  your pants have been ripped down to your ankles and Adam takes you against your tree.

Your hot tears begin to dribble down your face as you try to block out Adam's grunts. 

The other men cheer when he finishes.

Warm cum drips down your legs as vomit pools in your throat, you lose the soup and the last bit of your dignity with it. 

Your days are long. You spend most of them on your back or on your belly. The other men are content with this, just wanting the warmth of a woman here at the end of the world.

 The worst of it though is whenever the leader, who you've dubbed the Walrus since no one ever says his name, puts you on all fours beneath him. 

You quickly learn that the Walrus has a kink for pain. Or well, inflicting it. You don't get to see them, but each night Adam cleans your back and inner thighs, changing bandages and keeping the cuts from the Walrus’ knife clean. 

The Walrus also takes delight in giving you what was basically toddler-sized portions of food. A couple of bits of jerky one day, followed by three small spoonfuls of beans the next. He laughs whenever he sees you watching the men eat. He'll say something about women not deserving more than what he's already giving you before walking off.

You swear that you're going to be nothing but a pile of bones as the days roll by. 

At night, Adam feeds you more food. In exchange you let him pepper your skin with kisses. It turns out that if you pretend to like it, not only is he gentler when he puts himself inside, but he'll also bring you more food. 

Some nights you're so full it feels like you'll burst. Adam gets what he wants, a fake lover, and you get what you want, a full belly. 

Winter 2024 

You're silent during the ride back into Jackson. You whisper something to Pepper and Joel finds himself asking if he can walk you home. Physically you're right next to him but mentally? Joel can tell you're not there, you're trapped in some memory, for your sake, he hopes it's a good one. 

He walks you right up to your front porch and watches as you fumble with your keys. He says your name out loud for the first time in 20 years and you're snapping out of whatever trance you were in. 

“I know you don't want to talk about us…but I…I don't want to be a stranger to you.” He says honestly 

Joel can't lose you. He doesn't want to, not again. Fear be damned, he was going to keep you by his side this time. 

“Can we…can we be friends?” He asks slowly 

He can tell you're tossing it around your brain, thinking it over. 

“Okay.” You say after a moment, “We can be friends.” 

Next Part

I hope I was clear enough but: 

For those that can't tell, basically in the current time the reader has a fear of food being withheld the way it was with Adam. The result is binge eating until she's sick from it. She basically views food as a safety blanket of sorts and is scared that it'll disappear if she doesn't consume it. 

And yes, Joel's return into her life will slowly fix this issue. 

Updates are going to be slower since I have finals coming. Hope you can bear with me and please pray I pass my math one. It's a core class and I need her to keep going in my major ❤️

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods

[livingsurreal]

Thoughts and theories in regards to my favorite senior necromancer

This man swept me of my feet so completely that I am still reeling. He is my new Solavellan and the amount of feels I have about him, its ungodly.

So I present to you my way to long essay about why Emmrich is the saddest and greatest man Bioware ever created, right next to Solas.

Please be aware of spoilers if you have not completed the game yet.

Also, shutout to @jaal-ama-daravv - you were looking for others peoples thoughts and theories. Also, thank you for all your posts and love for Emmrich.

My second meta post is here!

(Edit for typos)

Their whole romance starts with dear Rook trying to flirt with him. And Rook being Rook their flirts are… questionable. I image Rook always doing a facepalm “Oh god, what did I just say?” afterwards. They… are not really that good at flirting. Half the time he doesn’t even seem to get that Rook was flirty with him.

But, oh, he did get it. He just couldn’t really comprehend it. This pretty, young and exciting person, flirting with him?!? Rook can be anything up to their mid-40s according to canon. That is not that much younger than him. But to him, they do SEEM young. Despite them being somewhat younger than Emmrich, I do think though, in quite a few ways, they are more experienced and knowledgeable than him. Emmrich led a pretty sheltered life. His childhood seems to be a happy one, despite them being poor. The loss of his parents had a huge impact on his life. To a degree where it still impacts him in a major way, even now, a lifetime later. But outside of that, I don’t think there was much strife or adventure in his life.

He is a quiet man who loves his books, and his time and work in the necropolis. He rarely even left the Necropolis. He never saw much of the world outside of it. But he always wanted to. Always dreamed of some kind of adventure. I think this is one of the reasons he so readily agreed to help Rook. A chance for adventure (and to help the world).

So here he finds himself in the company of a vibrant adventurous Rook who has seen and experienced so much. I think no matter their age difference, they would seem younger, “fresh faced” and vibrant to him. They are so full of life compared to him, who has not done that much living in recent years. They are less stuck in their ways, are out in the world and not sequestered in a life of routine.

In some ways he seems to be older than he is. That man is in his 50s. That is NOT old. But he seems to have lacked the courage to take life by its horns and just ride it. He is cautious, a coward in many ways. But somehow this dear Rook seems to bring out a different side of him. An almost forgotten yearning for more.

So, Rook awkwardly flirts with him. Bumbles and stumbles over words to flatter him. And he is exhilarated, touched and most of all confused. Why would this beautiful, vibrant person be interested in HIM of all people. There are other people around who should be so much more interesting to them than him. And how could he not be interested in them himself? They are, in a way, what he wants to be. Adventurous. Full of life. Indomitable. No matter what life throws at them, they refuse to yield. They have a courage the lacks, or thinks he lacks.

But that man is so much braver than he thinks. The fact that he is so open with Rook about his thanatophobia, even with a Rook that is not romantically interested in him is so touching. He tells them his most inner fears and all he wishes for it in return is some respect and kindness.

So, after some light and awkward flirting he tells them. If they DO mean it, he is interested. Emmrich is a deeply romantic man. In the dept of his heart he does not want a short-term affair. He wants someone to spend his life with. He wants something real. He wants everything.  It’s what he always wanted, but never found and had completely given up upon.  So he opens up a bit more.

But around that time, he also realizes that he absolutely has to tell them about his plans for lichdom. He tells the Rook on the friendship path why he hopes for their help in regard of Johanna. He explains why it is so important to him to find and stop Johanna.

Same goes for Rook on the romance path. But here comes the other side of the coin. Lichdom puts a possible halt on their fledging romance. He cannot know if Rook would be willing to continue what they’ve barely started.

They may either continue under the understanding that they have just temporary affair. What he never wanted. He always wanted that eternal flame – but by the Maker he wants to be with them, even if it is just a short time. He is still all feely at this point and the whole scope of his emotions have not yet hit him.

Or even, can he dare to dream, beyond that point of no return and stay with him after he becomes a Lich.

But he must put it out there. He cannot go further into their romance pretending his plans do not exist. He thinks Rook has a right to know what they are getting in to, and he is correct (and much respected) for that.

At the end, Rook commits to being with him with the full knowledge that Lichdom will come, sooner or later. If they stay with him from that point on is still undecided, but for now they are his. And how can he say no to that. He certainly did not expect this. I believe he fully expected this to be their end. But his confession ended truly in a night of unexpected splendor.

So, we know he always wanted “enduring affection”, love and commitment. And he had his fair share of lovers, paramours and affairs. I would think that he is someone who, when he does fall in love, loves so deeply and completely that it often scared his lovers away.

Not necessarily in an unhealthy way, but he is, underneath all that poise and manners, a deeply romantic man with strong emotions. I don’t think that Rook is special b/c he loves them more than he could love someone else, but b/c they not only accept all his love, more so, they welcome and return it in equal measure. They accept him and want him, even with all the baggage he comes with.

I think he was burned quite a few times in the past. So, he is trying to hold back, “be normal about it”. It’s just hard when this person he loves so much looks at him like he is their moon and stars and flame eternal. It’s hard when he feels finally and completely seen. He told them about his deepest fears, his plans about lichdom, and they are still here, willing to be on his side all the way. And while they seem to act like teenagers being all over each other, all want and need and stolen kisses, I think what they feel goes way deeper from the start.

At the same time, I also think that is partly at fault for not being able to find a lasting relationship. He had people in his live who did not want to fully commit to him. But I also think, the he never truly committed to anyone. He did, surely, on a more surface level. But a part of him always stayed closed off. He never gave himself completely. His fears made sure of that. What happens with Rook, the wonderful, oh so romantic start of their relationship? Only to end in this uncomfortable limbo because he lacks “the guts to say how he feels”? I think that was not the first time a relationship ended sour this way for him.

Take the amount of his feelings, add to that his thanatophobia, and that poor man becomes more and more a complete mess. What starts out as exciting and new and OMG THEY LIKE ME, becomes soon a new target for his fears. All those feelings inside him warring with each other. He wants to pin them against a wall and declare his undying love and run and hide at the same time.

Then comes Manfreds sacrifice and his big decision. Will he restore Manfred? Will he give up his friend to achieve his dreams?

Since I went with Manfred, I will mainly describe my feelings regarding mortal Emmrich. Though I believe Lich Emmrich suffers from the same base fears, they just find a different target.

Tbh, what Lace says to him certainly would not have helped. Her words feed into his doubts and fears and give them credibility. See, even Lace says this might not be right. Rook is younger. They move too fast. He will die earlier. Rook will be devastated. A whirlwind of emotions and half formed thoughts fueled by fear.

All he ever sees and what is constantly on his mind is not the time they can spend together, but the end of their time together. His death, their death, it does not matter. One of them will be gone and the other will be left with the pain he felt after his parents died. A pain that might even be worse than what he felt back then.

Rook being younger just becomes the vehicle by which he tries to convince himself that this might not be such a good idea after all. But its all his fears speaking.

And fear can be so strong, so overwhelming.

When they had this fight, my read on his words was that he wanted to break up with Rook. His words at that moment are condescending, bordering on mean.  He is lashing out. We know he can be vindictive when he feels wronged, but he is nothing but kind and gentle to those he likes and who treat him with respect. I think, in a way, that it was not necessarily a conscious decision, but more of an instinct to hurt Rook. To make them angry and not love him anymore. To make it easier to end it, spare them the pain of breaking up now and of loosing him to death one day. By protecting himself from the pain of their death should he outlive them.

As if that would work and make any difference to Rook, or him. They are already so madly in love with each other.

And I think, what makes Rook different from his previous partners is that they realized, if they let him finish this sentence, he might break something beyond repair. Even if it was his fear speaking at that moment, not his love. Running away from his feelings is a recurring theme for him. And he does not WANT to break up with them. But his fear tells him its better this way. Fear is a liar, though.

So they speak a harsh truth. It’s his fear, insecurities and cowardice speaking. They do not let him get away with it. It is harsh, yes. But I think it was also necessary. It spells out a truth he did not want to admit to himself. He is afraid, insecure and a coward. And the big question, is that what he wants to be? They are, in sadly not the nicest way, telling him to get hid goddamn shit together. And sometimes that’s needed. Especially for an academic man like Emmrich. No Emmrich, that is not logical. It is pure emotion and fear is running your life, not you.

In a perfect world they would have told him so in a calm and collected manner. Less harsh words and more kindness. But would that have had the same impact on Emmrich? Rook is a person too, with their own fears and hopes and dreams. And Emmrich right now is breaking their heart. I think he needed that. To see the pain and hurt he inflicted on them.

Can you imagine the regret he would feel in the end? If he left Rook? It would leave him a broken shell of a man. His final defeat. Fear had won. Nothing would be better, and no one would have been spared any pain. I would just be a lifetime of regret and what ifs. The one person who accepted him fully, loved him so deeply, and HE threw everything away.

I think, the time Rook was trapped inside the fade prison might have been the best thing that could happen in the long run. It’s all his fears come to reality. Rook is gone. He lost them. And he just wants to curl up and hide. But he can’t. He needs to find them. If he lets fear win now, Rook might be lost forever. He cannot allow himself to be coward now. I think this time was a come-to-Jesus moment for him. It forced him to look at his fears and what they’ve cost him. It’s a moment where he needs to stop letting fear control his life.

The last real private moment they had was a fight, filled with fear and anger. (That short apology in the middle of a battlefield was hardly private and could in no way make up for the words that were said.)

That last evening should have been a time filled with love. A memory to cherish. But now it’s a memory one would want to forget. And that was his own doing. It was not something out of his control, like “death”. It was his words and actions that tainted their time together. And what if that was the last time they’d seen each other, been with each other? What if that is his last real memory of them? The look of anger and pain and hurt on Rooks face, caused by HIM, by what he had actively said and done? I think this might be the first time he realizes that his fears take more from him, than death ever could.

Phobias and anxieties are not cured that easily, of course. I think in a way, they will always stay with him, to a degree. But I do think he had some important realizations that will put him on a path of growing. At least in regards of how he deals with his fears.

And then he found them. He found his Rook. They are back and they are alive. He can hold them in his arms again and how could he ever even think about turning away from them? They are a gift, a miracle, the deepest wish fulfilled. A wish he’d given up upon. Something he thought he would never have.

And then the last scene with the coffin. Okay here I go the Astarion route and I am absolutely convinced that that coffin is his. Of course he had planned all things in regards to his death. He had chosen the crypt he wanted to be buried in. And at that moment he took them there. The place that had been the mark of the final end, now the mark of the rest of his life. And Rook? Rook still wants him, after everything. They still love him.

When they pull him into a kiss? He doesn’t see the end of their time, but the start of the rest of their life together. That look on his face when Rook leads him to that coffin? This look of absolute vulnerability? I think, in a way, this is a first time for him. All open and vulnerable. All he is and feels no longer hidden away but cherished and loved. He will always fear loosing them, them loosing him, how could he not. But they are here and HE is finally able to truly commit. He is finally giving everything. He will always fear, but now love wins. Rook holds his heart in their hands, and he trusts them completely. He gives himself to them. He is theirs, forever.

Hell, that man breaks my heart in so many ways.

So what’s in store for them in the future? Sadly we do not get epilogue sliders for our LIs.

But those two I truly think are in it for the long haul. There will be many good days, filled with happiness and laughter and kisses. They will go on adventures, see the world, experience life together in its fullest.

There will also be bad days, when fear rears its head, and his chest hurts from the sheer pain it inflicts on him. But I hope he comes to a point where he is able to turn to Rook in those times, instead of pushing them away. Where he lets them comfort him, hold him, until this feeling loses its grip on him.

Those bad days will never diminish those wonderful days they have together, though. Just a rain cloud, hiding the sun for a day or two. And it can’t rain forever.

Then, when one of them finally goes on to their last journey, they will wait for their love. And when they are united again, they walk eternity hand in hand.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel.

Part 2: Here Alt Ending: Here Part 3: Here

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

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My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

[nrhyde]

Sleepovers and shared secrets.

Unfortunately Im into Shauna Shipman in a primal way which will only be satiated by writing it out. (Im expecting nobody to see this, so these are unfiltered thoughts.) Not proof read. Im dyslexic so expect typos if autocorrect didnt catch them.

Also uh ooc. Shes still sweet like before the crash but it’s a sprinkle of her being more cocky, which is ooc for this moment in time. (Also ive probably just mischaracterised her anyway but we strive!)

SFW. Nothing past kissing and laying down kissing. Slight internalised homophobia!

You and Shauna had sleepovers in the past, sure.

A few weeks after you had first met on a Friday, you put out your hand, paper enclosed, with your land line’s number on it and address, not really sure if she would actually come or not, but with a small flame of hope in your stomach that she would give you a call later that night.

You sat at the phone, eyeing it. You’d been waiting for so long that one of your parents had pulled up a seat behind you and eventually called you for dinner. However, convinced by paranoia she would call the second you left, you had refused and ended up with your dinner in your lap, staring at that white phone.

Eventually, it rang! Before it could ring once more, it was up to your ear and a small, confused speaking of your name came through. After begging on both parts, she had been able to stay over.

You guys talked and messed around all night, giggling while watching movies in the living room that your parents had allowed you to sleep in for the night, considering they were also letting you stay up for another hour because of Shauna.

And, being as loud as you both were, your parents eventually came down and asked you to be quiet, which only inspired more giggling the second they were gone.

But now? Now was different. Instead of a flame it had burgeoned into this inferno, taking up your stomach where the butterflies lay, and making its way to your heart.

By no means were either of you awkward anymore. You’d done this before.

But that was experimental. Testing the waters. But there’s a cap on the amount of times you can kiss and come up with the same result before it’s out of enjoyment instead of search to be rid of the anomaly.

This is the new norm: the way your fingers slid over one another’s as you spoke, the way your bodies get closer, the way she tilts her head to the side as she waits and the way she looks at you.

Gosh, you’ll never get used to the way she looks at you. Her big brows eyes practically pleading for you to make the move. For you to press your lips to hers. For you, for just a moment, to consider her yours.

And how could you deny her?

Not much later than that, your lips slid over one another’s perfectly like clicking in a puzzle.

Your free hand mindlessly found her soft cheek, holding her in place and willing her not to move back, not to think about how wrong it is to kiss you. To kiss your best friend. To kiss a girl.

But she doesn’t seem to be thinking about that as her own hand finds your waist, holding it like she’s holding something fragile. A little voice in your head whines, wanting so much more but knowing she couldn’t give it to you.

The kiss is tender as it always starts out. Despite the two of you not being awkward about this anymore (more or less), the start is definitely nerve wracking as you both get into the rhythm, pulling, pushing, touching.

She lets go of your hand in favour of her fingers finding their home on your hair up the nape of your neck, your now free hand finds it’s own, grabbing her shoulder and guiding her to lay on her own bed.

She gasps into your mouth and you can tell shes furrowing her brows as she kisses you more insistently, her grip in your hair moving down to your waist to grasp at you.

Just as you reach for her shirt to pull her in further, you both hear shuffling under the door and pull away desperately. Your head whips toward the door, her own gaze between the two of you to see what’s going on.

“You two okay in there?..” Shauna’s poor mother. Her voice is soft and she clearly has no idea what’s happening behind the door. You imagine her with a plate of something in her hands as she asks and you feel oh so heavily guilty about what you were about to do to her darling angel.

To stifle your panting, Shauna offers her hand. You wrap your teeth and lips around the hypothenar and she answers for the two of you.

“We’re good, Mom! Thanks!” Shes surprisingly calm for a girl who just had her hand in your hair.

Then her eyes lock on yours, she motions her nose over to the door, silently telling you to answer. You let go and clear your throat.

“No thanks, Ms. Shipman!” Your voice, on the other hand? High pitched, raspy and downright breathy. Shauna almost laughs and you have to hit her shoulder to stop her from blowing your cover.

Then there’s a padding of feet away from the door and you collapse next to her, smiling. She looks to the side, at you. She can’t help it. Shes smiling too and just can’t stop staring, taking in your expression.

You look back at her and then you both pause. After letting out a small huff of amusement, you lean over and give her a peck on the lips, a thank you.

hypothenar - the flesh at the opposing side of your thumb, located below the pinkie’s knuckle.

(Yes I had to search up “what is that thing below the pinky called” and scour the internet to find what the hell it’s called.)

[valentine-writes]

hii!! i was wondering if you could write headcanons for like the main four spider-kids (miles, gwen, pavitr and hobie) with a reader who like smacks people when they laugh really hard? preferably w/ a reader thats a spider-person but its up to you! :3

aggressive affection!

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, dude used once in a gender neutral way, mentions of bruising and minor injuries (but nothing crazy), spider-person reader, reader forgetting that being a spider-person makes them stronger,,, um. (°ー°〃) oops!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar

author's note: YES I CAN YES I CAN!! this prompt iz so funny AUWWUDH I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE!!! つ﹏⊂ also super excited 2 get to write more of them becuz AWUDGWAAHWGHWAGUAGH I LOVE THESE CHARACTERZ SMM,,, also excuse me if there's more repetition or typos than usual,,, im eepy ( つ᷄ ‸･ )

GWEN STACY headcanons

▸ the first one to fall victim to your little habit. she doesn't mind in the slightest, mainly because she's generally pretty welcome to friendly touches- even if it is slightly more aggressive than she had expected. frankly, you could've literally bitten her and she probably would've reacted the same.

she's a little awkward about it at first, pausing mid laughter as you deliver playful hits to her shoulder and bicep. she playfully shoves you away at first, like, "haha– what– what are you doing–" but quickly warms up to it

▸ here's the thing though. she 100% will do it back. if you're both joking around and losing it over something, you end up hitting each other through laughter. and it'll INTENSIFY. at some points, everyone's wondering if you two are actually beefing or not ur not. itz the way u show affection 2 one another,,, in the strangest manner

when you're assigned on missions with her, you usually end up chatting– and then you find something hilarious to giggle abt and everything goes off the rails

y'all will return to HQ bruised asf like "nah man the anomaly didn't even touch us."

jessica and miguel DEF pick up the fact y'all goof off and beat each other up before even locating the anomaly HWJEJNDNE

unfortunately– gwen is slowly paired less with you on missions becuz of this. they can't have you distracting one another a girl can never have fun fr </3

nothing that some good behaviour can't fix! just try not to give each other a complete smackdown while on duty and you'll be paired together again in no time! hopefully...

▸ both you and gwen forget that being spider-people involves super strength. and though you're both used to taking a blow or two, it stands plain and obvious that the two of you can get carried away. gwen especially. she's just a little rough sometimes– not like she means to be.

sometimes, the dull ache from the bruises she left leave you wondering if you're both a little too funny for your own good. at least she makes sure to take care of it and hold back,, when she can.

when it's your turn to get carried away, she sees your eyes widen as you splutter a million apologies to her. but every time you deliver one hit too hard, she insists it never hurts much as you think.

"dude, it's okay. you can chill out." gwen reassures. "besides, i'm built tougher than that."

she flashes a grin at you, and it's almost convincing. like she didn't even feel a thing. you know better though– gwen definitely has days where she's more sore than she'd like to be because of you. not like she'd ever admit. she likes the random play fights between the two of you.

though, you will admit that the amount of trips to the infirmary in search of ice packs is getting just the teeniest bit absurd. people are starting to ask questions at HQ-- which is fine. the frozen bag of peas gwen offers to you for your injuries works just as good as any ice pack ...it's been sitting in the bottom of her freezer for God Knows How Long but you don't need to know that

HOBIE BROWN headcanons:

▸ you see how this guy interacts with people???

hobie's used to friendly touches, and initiates physical contact without overthinking it. that little shoulder shake he does w/ miles makes me smile everytime i heart hobie. ALSO AAUWHEHWH LEBRON AND DWAYNE'S HANDSHAKE BEING HOBIE'S AND PAV'S?? I ADORE.

you really think something as little as a few friendly punches and hits bothers hobie "forehead-kissing-the-homies-goodnight" brown??? /lh + /hj but man platonic physical affection hobie. like. hear me on this one.

▸ he's 100% cool with it– actually initiated it before you did. nothing crazy, a light smack on your back or arm as he laughed with

eventually, while joking around with you, realized you had the same habit

you end up hitting each other quite a bit– but he's not as accidentally aggressive as gwen is. laughing with hobie won't get you hospitalized, he's cognizant enough with his strength to know how much to hold back.

▸ then again, there are times where you get carried away. hobie's quick to shake it off, not feeling the effect of the hit until later– if you notice and apologize, he'll just shake his head and shrug

"nah, nah– it's fine." he insists, chuckling a bit as he rubs the spot where you smacked him. "there's been worse."

and yes, objectively, you know that's true– but you both fight villains in your everyday life. of course there's going to be worse than just a hit too hard. he won't accept an ice pack– but will joke that you could just kiss it better instead

that earns a groan from you, smacking him again in the arm for good measure as he snickers

MILES MORALES headcanons:

▸ doesn't hate it!! not against it!!! find it surprising at first. he didn't expect a playful punch to his arm in response to his little joke, but watching as you giggled uncontrollably, hitting him lightly– he decided that he didn't mind too much

he knows you don't mean any harm, so it's cool with him! he's rolling with the punches literally every time you two are losing it

▸ if you land a smack on him that ends up being a little too hard, he'll definitely try to play it off awkwardly, rubbing it and nervously laughing when you ask if he's okay

"oh sh–" you promptly stop, your smile fading as concern floods your face. he winced slightly at your last hit and it was much to obvious to ignore. "you good, miles? i am so sorry–"

"me? yeah, yeah– it's cool!" he replies dismissively, giving you the lightest punch back. miles laughs nervously at your completely unconvinced expression.

"bro. cmon. be real."

"that? hah– nahh. barely felt it." spoilers!!! he felt it

you keep it in mind to dial it back a bit when with miles, because he barely hits back and hates admitting when it actually hurts.

you'll get an occasional "ow–" with a little chuckle, but he refuses to acknowledge that you might be a bit too rough. he jus doesn't wanna hurt feelings man :(

you're his friend who gets a little too carried away sometimes– and that's fine!!! besides, he can't let gwen and hobie have all the fun.

"you holding back on me?" he asks you, noticing your hits have gotten weaker.

"what's it to you?"

"i can handle it. 's fine!! really!" miles says. there's a beat of silence as you stare at him incredulously.

"and you didn't bruise last time?." you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"yeah."

"...say swear."

miles raises his hands, sighing. "ok, look–" HE WANTZ 2 ROUGHHOUSE W/ HIS FRIEND TOO OK (*ﾉε｀*) besides. u and gwen and hobie seem to have so much fun w/ it,,

▸ because of his stubbornness, you oblige, pulling your punches just a little less when having a little laughing fit with him.

as a result, miles develops a habit deflecting your hits while absolutely losing it. gently shoving your hands away as you smack him, both of you doubling over laughter

miles will say sumn he knows you'll find a lil too funny and just,,, *cue continuous hitting and blocking as he predicts literally Every Movement you make* he's literally learned to parry becuz of u HAJWBDKDNEN

PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:

▸ the type to pretend to beat up his friends while making punching noises when he's bored

he's just lightly tapping u with his knuckles going "pow– pow pow– bam–" under his breath HANWJENDN IM SORRY I FIND THIS FUNNY. i also. do this. (｡･･｡).

and ur like "...uh. ok."

he's def not opposed to it!! when he has the energy, he's all for it!!! pavitr's playfully hitting, shoving you away, gasping for air as the two of you giggle over something that's only really funny to the two of you.

he's pretty energetic most of the time, and it manifests as you "brawl" with each other as you laugh over some stupid joke.

▸ when you hit him a little too hard, most of the time, he doesn't even notice until the aftermath manifests as a bruise or two on his arms– but even then he doesn't care.

however,,, there are occasions where he initiates it, laughing and smacking you– and when you're laughing with him, raising your hand to hit back, he'll gasp dramatically, recoil instantly and get all dramatic about it i'm projecting all the things i do onto pav i bet u cant tell /sarc

pav the minute you decide to try and get him back– bar for bar, word for word:

he's just a little guy,, a little guyy,,, nooo,,, itz also his birthday,, he's a little birthday boy– HWJWBDN SORRY THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS

this is a bit that he drags on FOREVERRR like itz the funniest thing in the world

▸ ALL of his hits are a little too hard. he does the fake beat up thing a lot but when you two are roughhousing, you're the one reminding him to chill out through stifled laughs

he'll immediately soften the blows quickly at your request, knowing it's probably best for you to remain as uninjured as possible when not doing mission. can't have your shit rocked before you even face a villain!!! his hits end up somewhere between hobie's and gwen's– an almost perfect middle (*´꒳`*)

almost.

occasionally, he'll literally just... take the hits. not like miles where he's deflecting. he's jus standing there laughing while you smack him. which is a concerning sight for anyone who isn't used to your antics!!!

this happened in hq once and peter b, who happened to be walking by, lowkey thought you were straight up attacking pav

upon hearing the two of you giggling though, he figured that he wasn't witnessing an act of violence and didn't have to step in

[multifandomfanficss]

A Classic Sick Fic

Hughie Campbell x sick!supe!reader

Prompt: You’re sick and Hughie forces you to let him take care of you.

Warnings: vomit, other general cold and flu symptoms, inability to breathe

A/N: I’m sick and I just want Hughie to hold me and for some reason I’m unable to figure out why there is a criminally low number of fics for Hughie. I think he’s really neat. He is so special to me. Being the change I want to see in the world or whatever. Please don’t judge any typos I’m so ill. I envisioned this sometime during season 2. Let’s pretend Annie isn’t there for a sec. (I love her tho she is my girlfriend and he is my boyfriend and we are all happy and in love in my silly little head.) Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hughie asked again, while you coughed for probably the millionth time.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You weren’t fine. In truth your cough and endless runny nose were driving you insane. You hated being sick. You couldn’t stand your body not feeling the way it usually does.

“You look miserable- well not to say you look bad, well you do look bad, but not in the way that- I’m gonna just stop talking before I dig myself into a bigger whole.” He shifts awkwardly.

“It’s okay, Hughie. I feel like shit.” You sigh, well as much of as sigh as your body can let out while your nose is this stuffy.

“Can I do anything to help?” He asks.

A hug. You really wanted a hug, but you didn’t want to get him sick. You also didn’t know how to ask without making it awkward. You didn’t really know what you and Hughie were. You felt like more than just friends, but you’d never talked about it. It was hard when you were on the run from Vought. If you were being honest you couldn’t really even afford to be sick right now. If you were sick, you couldn’t use your powers and Butcher wouldn’t want to keep around a useless supe. It’s already pretty useless enough that you can even get sick. Other supes are bulletproof.

“No, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” You fake a smile, coughing again.

“No can do. I never stop worrying about you.” He smiles, but his tone is very serious. A blush creeps up on your face, but it’s easy to mistake your cheeks heating up for a fever.

You start to cough again, but this time it doesn’t stop. You have a coughing fit that leaves you gasping for air. You reflexively reach out for Hughie’s arm. He takes your hand in his, rubbing your back with his other hand.

“It’s okay. Just breathe. Let me help you for once.” He gives your hand a light squeeze. You nod, tears coming to your eyes.

“Trash can!” You yell between coughs. Hughie acts quickly, bringing the trash can to your lap.

“Woah, hey it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He holds your hair back, continuing to rub circles on your back. “Just breathe. Take your time.”

“I’m- so- sorry!” You struggle to get out the words while your hurl into the can.

“Don’t be sorry. You can’t control it. Just let it out. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying to help you through this. I lost count a long time ago of the amount of times you saved my ass. Let me help you. I promise you, I’ve had to deal with much grosser substances for this team than a little vomit.” His calming voice talks you through it, yapping along like this is a totally normal position to be in. Maybe it was. You didn’t know. You weren’t used to anyone caring this much.

“I’ll be right back.” He got up and quickly went to get you some water. You hated being alone, even for a minute, but you gladly took the water. It felt cool on your irritated throat.

“Drink it slowly.” He lets out a soft chuckle, seeing you start to gulp down the water. You slow down at his advice. You know if you drink it too fast you’ll get sick again.

“I’m so fucking tired.” Once you’ve recovered Hughie starts to pull you down into the bed.

“That’s okay. Just rest.” He attempts.

“I can’t. There’s too much going on.” You try to fight your fatigue. Hughie lays down pulling you into his arms. “I don’t wanna get you sick.”

“I’ve got a pretty good immune system. I’m not worried about getting sick. I know our entire world is like kinda imploding, but if you don’t rest you won’t be able to help anyone.” He tries to bargain. You also can’t deny how warm he is, or how your body just melts into his. He’s so comfortable. Laying with him is probably the calmest your brain has felt in weeks. “It’s okay to take a break, (Y/N). Even when the world is falling a part around you, if you don’t stop to take a break you’ll fall a part with it. Trust me. I learned that the hard way. Just relax. Close your eyes. I’m going to stay here and make sure things stay okay as long as we need them to for you to get better.”

You finally stop fighting it and close your eyes. You’re drifting in and out of sleep when you feel Hughie place a kiss on your forehead. Everything will be okay. It has to be.

[mingoooossii]

Love.

Yunho x reader

Synopsis: so reader gets shit from work and stuff happens and they make up.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, insecurities, fear of abandonment(?),self-hatred(kind of). fluff at the end and some kisses. Might be a Lil awkward since I can't do emotions. Also it's long, idk how many words but it's long. Typos maybe?

"Babe!"

The soft glow of the television flickered across the room as Yunho entered.

"Have you seen my hoodie? The grey on-"

But his question died in his throat as his gaze landed on his partner.

You sat huddled on the couch, the phone pressed tightly to your ear, brow furrowed in a picture of distress. Yunho's smile faded, concern gnawing at him.

He stepped closer, his voice soft. "Everything okay?"

You flinched at the sound of his voice, quickly ending the call. You took a deep breath, trying to mask your distress with a weak smile. "Yeah, just work stuff." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Yunho wasn't convinced. He knew you better than that. Your "work stuff" rarely left you this visibly shaken. He sat beside you his hand hovering over yours, offering silent support.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.

You hesitated, then sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "They called," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "About the project."

Yunho's stomach clenched. He remembered how much time and effort you had poured into your current project, how excited you were about it. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them pleasant.

"It's gone." you said, voice cracking. "Deleted. Apparently, a system glitch. And now I how to redo it in 3 days."

Anger sparked within Yunho. "That's ridiculous! It's not your fault, and expecting you to pull that off in that time…"

His words were cut short by a sharp look from you. "Don't." you snapped, your voice thick with unshed tears. "You wouldn't understand."

Yunho recoiled, his heart sinking. "What do you mean I wouldn't understand?" His tone softened, replaced by confusion.

Tears streamed down your face. "You're good at everything, Yunho." you whispered, voice laced with self-hatred. "You're talented, it's all natural to you. I'm not like that i..." You paused, wiping your tears away desperately.

"I'm not talented like you and... this is the one thing that I'm good at and...if I can't even do that, then what good am i?" You sobbed, wiping your face, frustrated at the non-stopping tears, breaking his heart further.

Your words hit him like a physical blow. He had never realized how you perceived him, or how it made you feel. The truth was, he admired your dedication, your resilience, the sheer amount of effort you poured into everything you did.

"That's not true..." Yunho started, a hint of desperation as he reached out to you. "You're wrong. You're much more than you think you-"

"I don't need you to appease me." You cut him off with a bitter tone, picking up your laptop. "Yunho, leave me alone." You looked away from him, reserving yourself to the office room. He watched as the door shut close with a sickening thud, resonating with his heartbeat.

Three days crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the growing distance between them. You were a whirlwind of activity, fueled by adrenaline and exhaustion. Your eyes, once bright with passion, were now shadowed with determination, bordering on desperation. Meals were quick, silent affairs, your focus solely on the screen illuminating you.

The frustration gnawed at him, but he knew pushing wouldn't help. This was your battle, and you had to fight it your way. Instead, he chose to show his support in quieter ways.

He stocked the fridge with your favorite snacks, left a fresh mug of tea outside your door, and even attempted to fold a few stray shirts (with predictably disastrous results).

He knew deep down that you weren't shutting him out, you were shutting yourself in. All he could do was be the ground beneath your feet, a constant presence even when you couldn't see him.

'i did it...i actually did it!' Three days. After 72 excruciatingly long hours, you finally did it. You finally pushed back from your desk, your eyes stinging from exhaustion but a flicker of triumph lighting them. The project was done.

But the elation was short-lived, choked by the hollowness that echoed within you. Guilt, suffocating and heavy, settled on your chest. The memory of your cold words, the slammed doors, the silent treatment you had inflicted on him all came rushing back. Shame burned your cheeks. In your single-minded pursuit of finishing the project, you had pushed away the very person who loved and supported you the most.

With trembling legs, you walked towards the living room, your voice thick with fear and regret. "Yunho?" You called out, voice barely a whisper. Silence. You tried again, louder this time, voice laced with desperation. Still nothing.

He usually came back from the company at this time except for...today.

Then he left...you?

Panic clawed at your throat at the thought. Tears streamed down your face, carving hot tracks on your cold cheeks. You sank to your knees, the weight of your actions crushing your spirit.

'He finally had enough of your selfishness and left you..' Your mind spun, conjuring scenarios, each bleaker than the last. You sobbed into your hands, not noticing the door opening.

Yunho stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him. The grocery shopping took longer than he thought. He hummed a low tune as he walked into the living room, freezing when he spotted you, on the floor.

Panic settled within him at the racking sobs that escaped you. Dropping the bags, he was instantly by your side, cradling you into his arms. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Startled, you whirled around expecting the worst but instead, you found his concerned eyes.

Relief washed over you, a tidal wave threatening to drown you. But before you could speak, Yunho's face crumpled with worry, holding your face gently. "Honey, What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

His concern, so genuine and unwavering, broke the dam of your emotions. You collapsed into his arms, the sobs returning with renewed intensity. All the guilt, the fear, the shame poured out in a torrent of broken words. "I thought you left me..."

"Why would I leave you?" He asked, voice gently but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

''I thought you got sick of me and left." You sobbed, your voice barely a whisper. I'm so sorry for being so selfish and i pushed you away and I-"

Yunho cupped your face, cutting you off by pressing a kiss to your lips. He wiped away your tears with his thumbs. His gaze was soft, filled with love, so much love.

"I was worried sick, Y/n. " he admitted. "But I understand. You were going through so much, and I…" He paused, searching for the right words. "I just wanted to be there for you, but I pushed too hard. I should have listened more."

He held you tighter, his heart clenching at the fear in your embrace. "You must've panicked because I was late."

He pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there. "I just went grocery shopping to stock up. I should've told you earlier, I'm sorry, love."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit, but all you saw was love and concern. Shame washed over you, hot and prickly. How could you have doubted him like this?

"I'm so sorry." you whispered, voice trembling. "I was awful. I shut you out, and then…my stupid thoughts…"

Yunho shook his head, cradling you close to him, his voice soft. "Don't apologize, it's not your fault. But I'm never letting you go through that again."

Yunho pulled back, gently stroking your hair, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. "But you really thought I was going to leave you? Never, you're stuck with me forever." He said, voice gentle yet firm. "You know how obsessed i am with you."

A choked laugh escaped your lips. "You're impossible." you mumbled, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Yunho grinned, holding you close. "Maybe. But I'm your impossible, and you're mine. That'll never change."

A weak smile adorned your face. "Promise?"you whispered, voice barely a breath.

"Promise!" He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. "And that's a seal! Now..."

He swept you off your feet. "Let's get you something to eat. You haven't eaten properly these days."

As he carried you to the kitchen, the tension that had coiled within you began to unwind. The weight of your insecurities and fears vanishing entirely by the warmth of his presence and the unwavering certainty of his love.

[rebuke-me]

thinking about the squip as an artificial intelligence and creativity.

painters and digital artists who take squips to be better at technical creation, but they never get it quite right. anatomy is just slightly off, eyes a little too big, blurred edges and awkward perspective.

actors who take squips for stage fright knowing all their lines and hitting all their spots but there's something mechanical about it. the way they move is a little too purposeful, they hit their marks a little too hard.

singers who take squips for pitch control, but all of their notes sound slightly off, even if they're using a completely normal voice. they always hit the right note, always project, but there's no soul, no emotion behind it.

photographers who take squips to always have the perfect photo, but their images always come out looking slightly photoshopped, too staged. candids are a thing of the past. everyone's too perfect, caught at the exact right moment, too stock photo.

writers who take squips to make wonderful stories, but their words are a little too close to someone else's, their narrative voice falling to pieces. there's no typos, no rough edges, no heart.

dancers who take squips to always be on beat, but never allow themselves to mark, who always have to full out perform, every time. who do a little too much. who can never make mistakes, sure, but can also never let themselves pull back when they need to.

fabric artists who take squips to create, but find themselves losing the ability to crochet, because the machine never learned how to do it, their stitches falling apart in their laps. they're left with yarn and crochet hooks and a feeling of disappointment.

comedians who take squips to be more successful, funnier, who tell jokes that are funny, that have the right amount of pause for laughter, who statistically should sell, but they lack the personal edge to make it properly.

artists who take squips for other things: for fame, for confidence, for love, for acceptance- finding that their creativity is fading away, entrusted to a machine that can't replicate their humanity and its flaws.

[entamesubs]

How the Fansubbing Process Works for entameSubs

The delays have brought about speculation and misinformed assumptions of how our work is done.

This post explains our entire process to put this misinformation to rest, and also informs those curious of how fansubbing works.

----------------------------------

For those unaware, each subbed episode comes with a section of credits at the very end that are specific to that particular episode. For example, EP124 was translated and timed entirely by me (entame), while EP122 was translated jointly by tessa (batsugeemu) and yona (angelthinktank), while I took a proofreading role. Each episode's credits are different, and I always make sure to credit properly based on who worked on what.

Step One: Translation

The job of the translator is to just get from point A (Japanese) to point B (English). One full run-through of the script, no stops in-between. Work is not edited, proofread or checked in any way, it is simply translated and then moved onto the next phase of the assembly line, so to speak.

Leave typos in, leave mistakes in, leave phrases you cannot translate or parse alone and move on. Awkward or literal translations are fine. The goal is to finish the whole script. A couple lines missing here and there is fine - they will be caught later. The first step is just to get it done.

Translating a full script can take anywhere from 2-6 hours, depending on the episode or any extraneous circumstances. To be clear, 2-3 hours is the absolute fastest that it can possibly happen, and it is an outlier. I can count the amount of times it has taken 2-3 hours on one hand. Those are usually reserved for our dedicated "speedsub" episodes, where we have everyone on deck to work continuously, without break. This is not a norm, nor should it be assumed so.

A normal episode will usually take around 4-6 hours working time to translate. Sometimes this is done a couple hours on one day, and another couple on a separate day. Sometimes it's done all in one sitting. It varies depending on the translator's schedule.

Step Two: Proofreading

After that, the proofreader then goes through for a second or third watch to do edits and checks. The proofreader is strictly in charge of making sure the translation itself is correct as well as fixing any missed lines from the translator. Grammar, typos, various other minor corrections are not expected to be done in full here, the main job of the proofreader is to just make sure the Japanese to English translation is complete, correct, and makes sense.

Is the subject correct? Is this the right verb to use in English? Are they talking about themselves or someone else? Is the context the original translator took correct/accurate? A second/third pair of eyes is essential to making sure everything comes out properly.

The translator may mark specific lines that stumped them or they need a second opinion on for the proofreader to pay special attention to. Maybe the translator can't think of an appropriate way to make something work, or need pun ideas.

Proofreading and translation roles are entirely switchable on request, because both proofreader and translator must know Japanese.

Step Three: Timing

At the same time, the timer begins the tedious work of timing the subs to the episode itself, making sure sentences show up at the correct place, for the right amount of time.

They ensure subs cut at scene changes, that the lines shown on screen are properly broken up if a character pauses, and are instering forced line breaks where necessary so subs don't awkwardly fill the entire length of the screen and are instead always centered.

Step Four: (not) "Final Check"

"Final Check" as I'd like to call it, is always done by me. Once proofreading and timing are both done, the sub files are sent to me.

I add in the opening and ending, I do all the fancy text effects if need be (such as scrolling text, rainbow text, gradient text, translating signs or posters shown on screen and blending them into the episode, etc - this is all under "Typesetting"), and I also do a third check of the script on a watch through to further edit any lines that may feel awkward to read on screen or I have thought of a better translation for.

The state that the subs come in pre-final check are subs that only contain the very middle of the episode itself. This means the prologue, the opening, the ending, UTS Report and preview are entirely unsubbed, alongside any signs or extraneous text on screen. Subs are not done pre-final check. There is a reason they must go through me first and that is because I am the only typesetter on the team.

To be clear, timing and typesetting are two entirely different skill sets. Getting the subs timed properly is one thing, getting the subs to look nice, flow well, and not feel awkward to read is another.

Typesetting is usually known as an "invisible" job. When it's done poorly, you notice it. If it's done well, you don't.

At this point, I also go over and double check things like character voice and make sure it's following our style guide. While this is a consideration made during step one and two as well (translating and proofreading), this is the point where things are tightened up.

Extraneous TL notes may also be added here in-episode if needed.

Step Five: Quality Checks

After everything has been bundled together and ready-to-go, it gets sent to our Quality Checker for the very last and final run-through. QC checks spelling errors, typos, grammar, weird English, missed casing, missed lines, style guide errors, etc.

The QC does not need to know Japanese (though it is a nice bonus if they do!), they only need to know English so they can check for grammar and weird phrasing. At this point, all of the translation work and check has been done, it is just making sure stuff makes sense to an English audience now.

After QC sends in their changes (or lack thereof), the timer usually goes back to fix up the final file for publishing.

Step Six: Distribution & TL Notes

Finally, the person who hits publish and uploads the episode file to all relevant sites is me, since I know how to setup, run, and seed torrents.

A lot of people may not know this, but all anime pirate sites (R.I.P.) pull their content from Nyaa's feed. If it's not on Nyaa, it won't be on a pirate site. In order to actually ensure proper distribution of the episode, it needs to be uploaded through Nyaa. Once it is on there, the pirate sites will all update of their own volition.

Translation notes, if any are necessary, are also written entirely by me, even if the episode may not have been translated by me initially. These are usually only written if I have time or if there is a specific concept/idea that I really want to make sure comes across properly.

Final Words

I hope this gives you better insight into the entameSubs process and how episodes are usually worked on/made.

A lot of our team is scattered across different timezones, with one person being 9 hours ahead, and another one being 6 hours ahead. This means things are done at different times and at the leisure of whoever is in charge of their role. If someone is busy, then there is nothing else anyone can do but wait.

It may be that after waiting for someone to finish, someone else in the chain becomes busy, and the process of waiting starts all over again. Steps are done like this so that we have appropriate checks in place. This is just how it is. None of us are paid, and all of us are doing this for fun.

Most of all, I take a lot of pride in the team's work. If something is not up to snuff, or I don't feel comfortable publishing it until we've been able to correct something that's been bothering us (whether that's a line, typesetting, or etc), it doesn't get published. These subs are not just "my" translations, but the work of the whole team.

Call it arrogance, but I'd much rather put out something we're proud of than something rushed through the wringer just for the sake of getting stuff out. You may disagree with lines or certain translations, but they are our work at the end of the day.

And it is a lot of work.

Thank you.

[lengthofropes]

okay, Oookay, a WIP! (sorry prob a lot of typos, my issue) inspired by my What if Tommy never left 118 series, basically (can't help it)

Despite Bobby’s lasagna being extra delicious today (new secret ingredient?), Tommy feels like he’s chewing on grimy sole. He knew this day would come sooner or later. It’s been over a week since Sal got transferred, and of course they need a new member for their team. But.  But. What? Sal has been a pain in the ass lately (not that he’s ever been anything less, but...), and his constant arrogance and disobedience made it only a matter of Bobby’s patience to be finally kicked out of 118. And to be completely and utterly honest, Tommy got much tired with having to deal with his best friend’s shit to the point it has become harder to even call him a friend.  But. He was his first friend here, in some way, his mentor. And even if they both were under constant pressure of keeping the mark of Gerrard’s ‘best boys’, they always had each other’s back. Always.  It’s just- Strange, not to see him here, sitting across the table, making his obscene jokes with a snarky grin face. And even if Tommy knows now, it’s better to let go of everything that fuels your worst traits, it feels like it’s the Sal’s empty chair that is somewhat a stupid joke itself. Like, if Tommy could blink – and everything would get back to how it used to be, simple and familiar. Nevertheless. No matter the ball of unaddressed feels in his chest, Tommy made a promise to himself to take it as it comes and hold on to this new and better version on himself and try his best to make their new probie’s life here if not carefree, but at least tolerable. He learned his lesson good with Howie and Hen, thanks! He chews and swallows.  He’s gonna be fine, Jesus! He has other friends here too, good friends. And, finally, a captain who knows how to be one. Job is good, his mom is fine, and that girl he met near the gym yesterday agreed to go out with him, and he has a good feeling about this, like it can actually work out this time. Life is good! No need to feel all anxious and insecured again, he’s in a good place, he’s ready for anything.   “Uh, hi. I'm Evan Buckley, new recruit.”

Tommy must’ve gotten too much into his own head with eyes on his plate, he didn’t even notice that someone came near the table. He rises his eyes.  “I was told to report to Captain Nash.” That “someone” looks the right amount shy, but at the same time like he’s trying to make the nicest first impression ever with that ear to ear smile and awkward pull on a shoulder strap of his duffle bag. “You know a Captain Nash? You?” Bobby pulls out a joke, and everyone play along, efficiently hiding their smiles. Kid looks more and more confused, before Bobby takes a pity on him and invites him to the table with one of his kindest smiles.  “Take a seat, Evan.” Evan’s smile grows wider with that. “Uh, Buck. Everyone just calls me Buck.” “Well, welcome to the 118, Buck.” Well, could’ve been worse, Tommy thinks, as kid sits himself down into Sal’s chair, glancing exited at their fabulous lunch. They could’ve easily been tossed with some asshole, but this one looks civilized. At first sight, at least. Gotta see how he will handle the job, though, but as for now, Tommy makes another mental note to himself to treat this “Buck” kid no worse than Bobby.  “Uh, that’s a sauce?” Buck asks particularly no one, just hangs the question in the air, pointing at one of the bottles on the table. So, Tommy decides to become one of the first friendly faces here. “Yeah, but I’d rec the other one -“and he points at the second bottle. “This one is spicier.” Tommy's smile is easy and polite, bit twisted in a chewing process. But what happens within next 5 seconds makes that smile freeze and food stuck in his throat. “Oh yeah? Thanks! Never too much spice, - Buck grins at him and winks. “Just what I need!” He winks. And by any means, it’s near same obscene as Sal’s innuendos.  But no one seemed to notice, and Buck already redirected his efforts into putting as much food on his plate as possible. And maybe - maybe Tommy just overthinks it?? Maybe that’s just the way this guy communicates? Just a silly little playful - Wait, no! Even if so, how the hell is it appropriate?!  They are not friends. They literally just met. They are colleagues (about to become). And Tommy is not a freaking high-school girl to be winked at like this, for fuck’s sake! Buck continues to chew and talk non-stop, smiling at everyone who’s willing to talk to him; table mood is pleasant and unbothered, and no one notices how one of Tommy’s hands involuntarily makes itself into a fist under the table. He’s not angry, in fact. Just.  He doesn’t know. He cannot explain. But one thing he’s certain of, he’s sure as hell won’t be calling that brat a “Buck”.

I have no idea where it goes so god help me 🙃