#also this blog is purple now maybe

[vizabel]

hello! i've finally got an ideal art set up, with a tablet i can draw in bed with and still with the brushes i like. so, i think i'm ready to start posting art again, but on account of a few things - an acknowledgement that i like to draw simple pictures, design work, and kind of really hate coloring at the moment, so a lot of what i post won't be super exciting i think, in fact it's pretty boring and now i really want to get out of my confort zone LOL. i will only post the art i like, at the pace that i want to, with no schedule after the backlog queue. and, finally, to avoid stressing myself out i will not perma-reblog my art to my main blog and may delete posts if i wish to not look at them again. this will not be a portfolio, but rather, me letting myself be seen on here again. i draw for myself, and i don't need attention for it so i'm not here to entertain anyone with anything. but, i do miss sharing it outside of my friends. tl;dr - i'm still a rabid perfectionist, but i'm going to take it easy so everyone can win, here

i should have an updated commission sheet ready soon, and thank you to everyone who's stuck by this blog despite inactivity!

[jayreyen]

I wasn't planning on posting art here because this is a "writing" blog but here's my oc x Alex

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

what is ur pfp lol

amira from skam españa as the hackerman meme based on one specific clip from s2 lol. it's been so long since I've had it that i've forgotten who made the edit (if it's you reading this please let me know so i can credit you!!!) but yeah, i love it

[fagtainsparklez]

Hey I've been observing from afar through your reaction blogging, I haven't been in mcyt as much since the dsmp ended but I still care about a lot of the people in the mcyt circle and I'm interested in what goes on - care to give a rundown of what happened at this twitch rivals thing everyone keeps talking about? (no pressure only if you want to) Aside from the fact I'm sure it was terribly run like most twitch rival events are, but it sounds like there was more to it than that

okay so. i am going to be missing quite a few details because i missed a day myself + my streamer could not care less, so i heavily encourage others to add on stuff i missed

this was a multi-day competition, running for 5 days with prize rewards from 1k to 100k. it started with i think 150 players, with select numbers of people getting eliminated each round. day 1-2 are fairly normal, at least for twitch rivals. of all the games that got played through the whole event, i'd say like 1 was actually good, and maybe 2 were decent, at best. most are bad, poorly-executed, poorly thought out, or just boring in terms of both player enjoy-ability and content creation.

DAY 3 EDIT:

now, sapnap's been sapnap for this entire event already. obnoxious, a bad sport, but most notably, playing DMCA'd songs. the event ran on proximity chat, so while he was unmuted, everyone around him would also be subject to said songs, which could mute vods at worst and terminate accounts at best. most people are fed up with him at this point. while everyone's trying to come up with solutions for the glitch, sapnap spams the discord with useless shit. couriway calls him out in the discord, calling him annoying and obnoxious, then later calling him a cunt in twitch chat. sapnap uses couriway and feinberg's name in his stream title for clickbait and talks shit about them + their friends (hbg/house builder gang). he also makes some weird comment asking if couri is homophobic because sap was talking about having skeppy's dick in his mouth?? or something?? i'm unsure exactly how day 3's issue of the glitch resolved.

day 4 is also your average experience with your usual range of average to horribly painful games. sapnap continues to be a bitch and not take responsibility for his stans attacking anyone in sight, but what else is new

day 5 is. bad. the game set for deciding the final competitors can be cheesed (if you let someone else do all the work, you can punch them in the last second and steal their win) and eliminates like 20 people at once. on top of that, a glitch happens that leaves the server on standby for at least 30 minutes while admins decide what to do. firebreathman sends a picture of a bare naked ass in the discord. someone else sends a photo of their debit card. streamers entertain themselves in various ways, including growing a cactus (fulham), playing osu (purpled), collecting other people's streams for their overlay (fruitberries), playing slime rancher (badboyhalo), and building real-life furniture (couriway). tubbo (who was already eliminated at this point) starts jumping between streams and asking in chat for the tea. the game is eventually replayed, deciding the final 4 players, but it's just as broken and at that point, no one wants to be there anymore. it's revealed through multiple streamers (purpled, i believe also feinberg) that twitch rivals games are not tested before being ran. the only testing done was a stress test to see if the server could handle all original 150-some players. this explains why the games are so bad and poorly organized (some games take over an hour, others barely 30 minutes).

the final four are sapnap, shadoune, sneegsnag, and i think feinberg. it's the most anticlimatic game of connect 4 you can imagine. sneeg eliminates sapnap, and shadoune eliminates fein. notably, fein's game glitches during a throw, which despite being obviously a glitch, the coordinators brush off as being "part of the game". fein and multiple other streamers spend time analyzing every pov frame by frame and all agree that yeah, that was a glitch. shadoune and sneeg are left for the finals. they come to an agreement that this is stupid and a horrible event. tired of this bullshit, they purposefully stall the games and run a podcast for approximately 2 hours, forcing the coordinators to bend to their commands hunger games-style. essentially since the first glitch of the day people were begging twitch to just split the money, something that wouldn't be easy according to tubbo, because everything is pre-signed and delegated before the event. sneeg and shadoune give no fucks, and force the coordinators to split the money anyway, winning the day through the power of friendship. i cannot stress enough how no one wanted to fucking be there by the end of all this.

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[itsbeeble]

NO BITCHES?

SUMMARY: When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

GENRE: smut, fluff, crack, mild angst

PAIRING: Eric Sohn x afab!reader (ft hak, sunwoo, sunwoo's gf, and sangyeon)

WC: 10.5k (there go my plans of proving Ally wrong)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: um... okay so virgin!eric, kinda dom!reader, eric's a fucking loser, reader kinda makes fun of him at first for being a virgin, reader kinda teaches eric about everything from kissing to uh...yeah, dry humping, kissing, making out, oral (m and f receiving), eric cums in his pants, eric plays fnaf, um...public making out? public fingering?, multiple orgasms, eric goes from little virgin boy to I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MORE GLITTER real fast, sunwoo slander, sunwoo's annoying in this idk, eric's a dumb gamer boy who needs desperate help from the boy who concussed his gf (cough sunwoo), slight bit of miscommunication?, eric cries (ummmm dacryphilia?), reader also cries (again...dacryphilia?), edging el oh el, sunwoo and. reader know the importance of CONSENT, i think that's all the important stuff

A/N: I'm never gonna beat the allegations... ally will always think i bias eric. Anyway, happy birthday to my little munchkin princess eric sohn 🥰🥰

Eric was practically shaking as he approached you. Scratch that, he was definitely shaking but he could blame the ripples covering the drinks in his hand on the pumping base. It thrummed in his veins, or maybe that was his pulse steadily increasing when he locked eyes with you.

You. His gorgeous, intelligent, perfect…

Lab partner. You were his lab partner and at that very moment, nothing more. At least, not in your eyes. Eric, though? He was enamored by you. The way you laugh, the teasing grin when he does something wrong and you scold him, the way your body looks in that dress—

“Hi.” You look away from your friends and face him, a curious look on your face. He’s starting to feel warm. Was it warm in here? He thinks he’s starting to sweat, and can feel something drip down the back of his neck.

“Hi…?” Your hands are empty, and Eric forces himself not to jump up and down with glee that he doesn’t have to make the excuse of having two drinks for himself. 

“I’m— Do you—” He stutters, and heat begins to spread from his neck to his cheeks as your friends giggle. You just smile. A kind smile that has his body slowly relaxing the more he looks at your face. “Do you wanna drink— I mean— fuck, I meant do you want a drink. Not— not do you wanna drink— I mean that could—  that is also a question, but—”

More laughter from your friends and Eric suddenly thinks he’s gonna throw up all over you, your dress, and his nice white button-up shirt that he’d forced Sangyeon to iron for him. 

“Thank you, Eric.” You say, reaching for the cup in his left hand. Your fingers brush against his, and his knees begin to wobble visibly. Your smile disappears into a concerned frown, and suddenly Eric’s attention is on your lips. He isn’t paying attention to his surroundings anymore. Can’t find himself caring that your friends are still laughing at the scenario, nor that you shoo them away. 

“Eric?” Your hand waves in front of his face, effectively catching the boy’s attention. “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah!” Eric says it far too quickly, knowing immediately that you don’t believe him. Fortunately, one of his many charms is that he’s very good at lying to people. “I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” 

You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.

“You just— you seem a little uncomfortable right now.” You lean close to him, scanning his face under the flashing lights. You can hardly make out his features under the colors. Blue, purple, red, white, green, yellow. All the colors under the rainbow covered his face and changed every few seconds. When they flashed white, you swear you can see a flush in his cheeks. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He leans toward you with a sudden surge of confidence that has your heart pounded a bit. “Why would I ever be uncomfortable around the most beautiful girl in the building?”

And there it is, folks, you think. Your eye twitches, something so subtle that Eric fails to catch it. The irritation, the disappointment. 

“Ah, I see.” You grimace, and Eric begins to panic again. 

“What— did I upset you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“Eric, if you wanna get into my pants you’re gonna have to try better than that.” 

Eric’s heart drops to the floor, his face flushing even more as he begins to panic. He stutters, he tries to backtrack, he tries to explain himself. You, however, are hearing none of it. Not a single word that comes out of his mouth reaches your ears. 

“Stop, Eric.” You snap and his mouth snaps shut. “Just…Just stop.” 

You set the cup he’d given you down on the table, and he stares at it dumbly while you storm away to find your friends again. The amber liquid in the cup sloshes with the base echoing around it and the loud noise of partygoers around him. 

He watches it spill over the lip of the cup, and then sets his own cup down next to it, turning around to return to the party but the weight of crushing rejection sits uncomfortably on his chest. 

It’s two days later when you see Eric again. Monday morning, an 8AM Physics lecture that no one wants to be in. Two weeks into the semester, and almost twenty people had already dropped the class. He walks in with a black hat covering his head, and a white tee shirt covering his torso. It’s certainly not clothing suitable for the cold air of early February, but he’d been unable to do his laundry over the weekend due to the parties on Friday and Saturday and the neverending clean-up that occurred on Sunday. 

He spots you, tucked well into the second row, and his eyes light up. Yours, on the other hand, narrow. You keep your gaze on him while he makes his way up to you as quickly as possible, hoping to have a chance to talk to you before the lecture begins. 

“Hey,” he grins at you, gently setting his bag on the chair to his left and turning to face you. Your eyes are still narrowed with suspicion. “How was your weekend?” 

How was your weekend? It’s as if the both of you hated that question; one of you cringing with something close to disgust, the other with something like horror. Is he stupid?

“It was fine,” you tell him curtly. Eric frowns, leaning back in his chair when you turn your gaze to the front. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He blurts out, and your shoulders sag. Was that the wrong thing to ask? Did he do something wrong?

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” You hiss out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has a hard time finding the words. What is he even supposed to say? What if you think he’s an asshole for not knowing what was wrong? What if you never smile at him again?

“I— honestly I really don’t know!” You scoff and Eric sits up, leaning forward on the table to get a better view of your face. You can see the pout, see the way his eyebrows knit together in what you can only assume is faux confusion. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he did.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You look at him fully now and watch the way his body recoils from the words. Hurt, confusion. No anger. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eric Sohn angry in the two years you’d shared classes with him. 

“What— what did I even do?” The professor walks in, and he hushes his voice. “I can’t fix things if I don’t know what I did wrong!”

“That’s your own damn fault then, isn’t it?” You click your pen, and Eric shuts up. You almost feel bad, carefully watching as he takes out his own notebook to begin taking notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the lecture, and you feel a pang of regret in your chest. Maybe he really doesn’t know what he did wrong, you think, nibbling on your lip in thought. No, there’s no way he doesn’t know. He’s the smartest guy in the room, no way does he not know what— 

You glance at Eric again, this time turning your head to fully look at him. His blond hair falls over his eyes, even with the hat covering his head. His shoulders are hunched, his hand moving so quickly over the lined paper so that he can at least try to keep up with your professor. For a moment, you think about Eric Sohn. About the frat boy who had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met. About the boy who once gave you notes far more detailed than you’d ever written during the week you were sick. About the boy who—

No, you shake your head and begin to write down more equations you know you’re going to have to ask Eric about later. He’s a frat boy. All he wants is a good fuck and then he’s gone. 

But why did he seem so hurt when you spoke to him so rudely? When you turned him away not once, but twice within the past three days. 

You liked him, you really did! He was kind, thoughtful, and he was always helping anyone he could. He never refused to help anyone, even if it was a subject that he didn’t know that well. Had you gotten it wrong? Was he just trying to talk to you and you had responded—

Your pen clicks again as you give up on the notes, and you lean back in your chair to squint at the whiteboard in front of you. 

Talking with Eric Sohn was inevitable, but it was only a matter of how long you could avoid the topic—

“I want all of you to pair up. These will be your partners for the midterm project.”

Eric’s gaze turns to you uneasily, tilting his head in question. You bite down hard on your tongue, fighting every urge inside of you to turn around and ask the girl behind you to be partners. 

Fuck, how could you say no to those eyes?

Your room is brighter than Eric thought it would be. When you originally invited him over to study that night, he had been terrified. Was your apartment going to be almost falling apart? What if it was really nice and he broke something? What if you killed him and stuffed him into a dumpster?

Fortunately, none of those things were necessarily true. Your building wasn’t falling apart, thankfully, although it was arguably nicer than any other off-campus apartments and you could still choose to kill him. 

It was nice, though. It was a two-bedroom apartment that you shared with your friend Eunseung, one full bathroom and another half-bathroom, a decent kitchen, and a nice-sized living space. According to what you told him in the last semester, the rent wasn’t too awful either. 

The walls of your bedroom were yellow, but not an ugly shade of yellow. It was pastel, not quite bright enough to be harsh on the eyes but not dark enough to make it hard to see. You’d lined bookshelves up to the wall, most filled with books but some with photos and plants and music albums. You had a small desk in the corner, and your bed was aligned with the center of the back wall, a light green comforter covering white sheets. 

“I’m surprised we’ve never studied here.” You hum, but your tone is distant. Eric laughs dryly and sets his bag down on the ground next to your bedframe. 

“You prefer the library,” he points out. “The lighting is easier for your eyes.” 

For a moment, you pause in your motions. How did he—

“How did you know that?” You ask, turning to face him. You can see the flush in your partner’s cheeks, and he ducks his head so that the baseball cap on his head covers his eyes. 

“I just— you would always squint when we studied at the library or— or at the TBZ house. I just…I figured that was the reason.” I pay attention. That’s what you knew he meant. 

Why does a boy who only wants to get into your pants care so much about you?

“Oh.” You dig your laptop out of your bag and take a seat on your bed, leaning against your pillows with your legs straight out in front of you. Eric joins you, sitting crosslegged at the other end of the bed. He’s careful not to get too close, shifting away from you when you adjust your position. Your skirt flares out to the side, ruffled by the blanket and exposing your thighs a bit more. Eric has to force his eyes to remain on his laptop. You notice, but there’s no anger with it. You choose to not even acknowledge it. 

“So what do we wanna do for our project?” His eyes flick over to you, and you shrug. 

“We could build something?” You suggest. “Maybe, like, a paper airplane launcher?” 

He hums, tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose in thought. 

“What about something with electromagnetism?” You nod slowly. 

“That could be good. We could keep with the idea of building something and make an electric motor with things people have lying around their houses?” 

Eric grins at you. “Now we’re thinking. We’ll have this done in no time at all.”

Eric was right. 

The brainstorming and research portion of the project had been completed within a few hours, and the two of you had cast your laptops to the side to search your apartment for things to use. Paper clips, some sort of copper wire (you had no idea why anyone would have a copper wire hanging around their house. Eric, however, said that there were several around the frat house), wood, some batteries. Anything that the two of you could use. The only thing neither of you had was a staple gun.

“It’s getting late,” Eric notes with a quick glance toward your living room window. You hum in response, lying back on your couch with your phone in your hand. “I should get going soon.”

Your eyes flick to him, but he isn’t looking at you. “Do you wanna stay the night?” 

Silence. A long moment of silence, and then Eric looks at you with a look nearing scandalized. 

“What?” You sit up, draping your arms over the back of your couch and getting a better look at him. 

“You heard me.” His face is bright red, similar to the night of the party. 

“Why would— why would I want— I mean th— thank you for the offer but— but I can’t stay the night. Why would— where would I even sleep? I don’t have clothes to sleep in!” He throws every excuse he could possibly think of at you, adding to your amusement. He had no clothes, where would he sleep, you had classes earlier in the morning than him, it would be weird if he stayed the night. It was cute. 

You’ll admit it, Eric was cute. The puppy-like look in his eyes, the pout on his lips. Everything about him was cute. It almost shocked you how fast you were able to get over the anger that he only wanted to sleep with you. In fact, you weren’t sure that’s what he even wanted from you. Only one way to find out, right?

“Eric,” you finally cut off his rambling and his voice stops, leaving your apartment oddly quiet. “Come here.” 

He listens, slowly slinking toward you. Eric is nervous, you can tell. Every step he takes, every twitch when you shift your body. It fills you with pride, or maybe some other emotion. 

Eric stops when he’s right in front of you, just a few steps from the back of the couch and both of you (really just him) are all too aware of how his crotch is level with your mouth. 

“I wanna tell you something,” you beckon him toward you with one finger and he slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly as well, bends down so that his face is just above yours. Heat radiates off his face, so hot that you may start sweating soon. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands gripping the couch for dear life, short nails digging into the cheap fabric. 

“Sure.” Eric’s voice is hoarse, and it makes you smile. 

“I kinda like you, Eric.” 

Your lips press gently against his. Entirely experimental, just enough to see what he would do. His body seizes up, his breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t move against you, doesn’t tilt his head or part his lips. He sits there like the lead in a lame drama where the main characters seem like they couldn’t be less into each other. You begin to pull away from him, fearing you’d made him a bit uncomfortable, but a whine is pulled from his throat when your lips part from his. 

You look at him, but he’s already looking at you with wide, bulging eyes. 

“Eric…” You have a sneaking suspicion that you know why he didn’t kiss you. “Have you…has no one ever kissed you before?”

“What?” The boy’s voice is shrill, and you know the answer. “Of— of course, I’ve been kissed? What kind of question is that?” 

Your lips quirk up. “Are you sure? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”

“What— why would I be embarrassed?” His frustration and denial are cute. Adorable, really. 

“Because you’re a sophomore in college and have been kissed once— by your physics partner, no less.” You smirk playfully and then gasp, pushing up and toward him suddenly. He reels back, nearly falling backward with the suddenness of the motion. “Eric Sohn! Are you a virgin?”

Eric looks like he’s about to cry from embarrassment, and he turns away from you completely. You grimace briefly and climb off the couch to come around and stand in front of him. He avoids your gaze by looking above you, around you, at the floor and the walls. 

“Eric,” your voice is gentle now. He doesn’t move, nor does he make any noise. He’s like a deer in headlights. “Eric, can you look at me.”

“No,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. You feel a bubble of amusement rising in your stomach. “You’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” You promise, your hand grazing his forearm. Eric’s eyes lock with yours, and for once you choose to hold his gaze. “Now, can you tell me the truth so I can help you?” 

“Help me,” he echoes with an air of offense. “I don’t need help!”

“Eric, you’re a sophomore in college who’s in the most popular frat on the campus. Add onto that your personality and your good looks, you should be getting bitches left and right.” You say pointedly and the tips of his ears flush red. Or, rather, as red as they can when his whole face is burning up from your prior insinuations. 

“What if I’m just waiting for marriage?” He counters. “Or— or the right person?” Your lips draw into a thin line, knowing that statement was bullshit. 

“We both know you wouldn’t be hard as a rock right now if that was the case.”

Eric’s heart plummets to the ground, his eyes following it to check for himself. To his complete and utter dismay, you weren’t lying. Pressing against the front of his cargo pants was the solid outline of his member, straining against the seam and begging to be released. 

“I— I am so— so sorry,” he stammers, his hands yanking the edge of his sweatshirt down to cover himself, his hands remaining carefully placed over his crotch but he knows it’s too late. “I didn’t— I don’t— oh my god I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, holding tightly onto his sleeve so he can’t run for the door. “I knew you wanted to sleep with me, it was kind of obvious.”

“No I— I don’t want—” Eric frantically shakes his head. “I don’t— I can’t— I don’t wanna sleep with you— I mean I do, I really really do, but not— not like this—”

The hand on his sleeve comes up to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pushed out and he can’t speak anymore. 

“You can admit it, Eric.” You hum, and with your hand still on his face, you begin to walk him back and around to the side of the couch. He yelps when you push him back, letting go of his face and watching him fall over the arm and land with an oof on the cushions. “You can admit that you wanted to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”

“But I—” He choked on spit before he could finish talking, eyes widening into saucers when you climbed onto the couch, crawling up to sit on his lap. He’s sitting up straight now, but the risk of falling back again is high with nothing to support his spine. Your hands just rest on his shoulders, not digging in or moving to grasp anything else. They stay there, waiting for him to make the first move. 

“Tell me if you don’t want me to continue, Eric.” His hands are trembling, his pulse higher than it’s ever been. He slowly rotates his body, placing his feet firmly on the ground and resting his spine against the back of the couch so that he doesn’t hurt either of you. 

“I want—” his voice cracks. 

“What do you want?” Your lips are on his neck, featherlight kisses being left in your wake and knocking the breath out of him. He’d never felt like this, he’d never been touched like this save for his own hand in the darkness of his room with an animated video on loop on his laptop screen. At his lack of response, you pull your lips back from his neck. Eric lets out a loud whine at this, his left hand coming to the back of your head to lightly try and push you back into him. 

“Keep doing that,” he gasps out, and you smile. 

“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” You ask him, and another whine tumbles from his lips.

“I— fuck, I do— god, why are you doing this to me?”

“I just wanna know what you want, Eric,” you’re teasing him and you know it, but you’re pretty sure Eric might fall to pieces if you don’t give him something soon. “Can’t you tell me what you want?” 

“Just—” he leans his head back, and you watch the rapid bobbing of his throat as he tries to swallow and take in air and do anything to calm himself down. “Just do something.”

“What’s the magic word?” He raises his head, gasping when he finds your lips suddenly inches from his own. 

“Ple— please?” Your lips quirk up.

“Actually, it was—”

You don’t get the chance to tease him anymore. He crushes your lips together with so much force that it almost hurts. There’s nothing coherent about the way he kisses you, although you could hardly call it a kiss at all. It was more him putting his mouth against yours, tilting his head, and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear from the moment it started that he’s never been kissed before and that knowledge has you squirming in his lap. 

“Eric,” you’ve barely pulled back and he’s chasing your lips as if you’re a glass of his favorite wine. “Eric, hold on.”

“Why?” His eyes flutter open and you have to force yourself not to kiss him senseless, even if he has no idea what he’s doing.

“Just—” You inhale deeply and the scent of his cologne begins to overwhelm your senses, practically intoxicating you. “You’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

He nods, his previous embarrassment returning when you say that. “I mean…Yeah, I— I haven’t. But I—I’ve used WikiHow—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off and choose to ignore the comment about WikiHow, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just follow my lead.” 

When he nods, you press your lips against his again. This time, it’s more fluid. It’s easier for you to kiss him when he’s copying your movements. It’s still awkward, your teeth smacking together painfully, but you can tell he’s getting used to the feeling. You’re able to part your lips against his, to open your mouth just enough for your tongue to slip out and brush against his lower lip. His whole body jolts, his hands digging into the fabric of your skirt hard enough that your skin would be bruised the next day. His hips roll up against yours, drawing a heady moan out of you. 

When Eric parts from you, his eyes are hazy. “Did— did you like when I did that?” 

“Yes,” you groan and begin to roll your hips down into his, watching the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back arches off the couch. 

“F-Fuck, okay,” He screws his eyes shut again, lips completely parted as the two of you begin to hump into each other like some damn animals. Your lips meld together again, and you let your tongue slither into his mouth. It’s obvious that Eric has no idea what to do with his tongue— pushing against yours aggressively, shoving it to the side, and trying to push his into your mouth— but as the minutes pass, he begins to understand what to do. He begins to understand what makes your body react positively and what has you unintentionally cringing away from him. 

Your lips part from his one more time but you hardly give him time to complain before you place a kiss on his cheek, then the corner of his jaw, and then right below his ear. He emits a nearly wild moan at this, his hips jerking up into yours in such a way that his bulge presses against your clit and punches a moan out of you. Being the quick learner that he is, Eric adjusts his position and rolls his hips up again and again and again, addicted to the way you sound and feel against him. 

“Eric,” you whine, parting from his neck. “Eric, oh my god.” 

He just huffs into your collarbone, licking and sucking and trying desperately to not cum too soon, but you just feel so good against him that he just can’t help it. 

His hips stutter against yours, and he moans so loud you fear that the neighbors hear it. You let him continue to grind into you, to work himself through his orgasm as your slips back and escapes you. It doesn’t matter, you’d get yourself when he leaves—

“You didn’t cum.” 

“What?” You blink dumbly at him, and Eric begins to pout. 

“You didn’t— you didn’t cum. You should’ve told me. I would’ve held off!” You knew that wasn’t true. He could barely hold himself together from a few kisses, what made him think he’d be able to hold himself off until you came? 

“It’s fine, Eric.” You reassure him, but he’s having none of it. You can’t stop him from lifting you off his hips and settling you against the couch cushions. Well…you probably could, but you wanted to see where this went. 

You watch as he unceremoniously yanks down your panties, not bothering with your skirt whether out of impatience or because he liked seeing you in it. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Eric peers up at you, a boyish smile on his face. 

“Can’t be that hard, right?” You laugh, choosing not to argue with him. You’d tell him, when it came time, where your clit is but for now? You’d let him work things out for himself. 

Your body shudders when Eric takes his first taste, licking from the bottom to the top of your pussy. You’re amazed that he didn’t accidentally go too far down like most (slightly more experienced) men have. It’s almost impressive how much attention he pays to your quivering body, and you flip your skirt up so you can see his face buried into you. Every lick draws out a moan from both of you, and you can see him starting to roll his hips down onto the couch. 

“Fuck,” his words are muffled by your cunt, and vile slurping noises accompany him. “Could get addicted to the taste of you.”

“Mm, feels good, Eric.” Your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands slipping down to tangle in his blonde strands of hair and tugging him up slightly. Your other hand taps at your clit lightly, making your body jolt a bit. “Here. This— fuck— feels good here.”

“That’s it?” He drops his head down again, swatting your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. His touch is much rougher than yours, his hands thick and calloused compared to your delicate ones. “Right here?” 

You whine for him, and he has to bite on his tongue to not cum again so fast. He’s quick to attach his mouth to your clit, sucking violently and swiping his tongue against it. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you most certainly were now. It hadn’t taken him long at all to figure out what felt good for you. Reading your mind and body was almost second nature to him, it seemed, and it became abundantly clear when your orgasm began to rise again.

“Close, Eric!” You gasped out, “I’m close!”

He groans against you, catching your hips in his hands when they begin to roll into his face. Eric wanted to drown in you. He wanted to feel you shake around him for the rest of his damn life. He wanted to hear you screaming his name until your throat was raw and your voice was gone. 

And the sight of you cumming on his face, your essence soaking his chin and dripping onto his sweatshirt? 

If he could stay glued to you for the rest of his life, he fucking would.

Becoming a habit came easy for you and Eric. You’re not dating, but you’re unsure of whether the puppy-like boy cares or not. You discovered very quickly that he would do anything for you, would learn anything for you. You’d successfully taught him how to kiss a girl without looking like a dumbass (i.e. the straight-face-to-sudden-kiss scenario you’d faced too many times to count), how to finger you and hit all the right spots, where not to put his mouth and fingers unless explicitly told otherwise. There was, of course, your next problem.

Eric refused to put his dick in you.

You knew he was clean, both of you had gotten tested when you originally began screwing around. You knew he liked you, that much was obvious. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, he told you how much he loved you every time you gave him head. He just…never went farther than that. Was he scared? Did he not want you as bad as you (very clearly) wanted him? It made you nauseous to think about, but it was getting frustrating how all you two did was make out, grind on each other like teenagers, and give each other head every time you saw each other. Shit— he was even fine with fingering you underneath the table in your lecture the other day! 

That’s why you developed a plan. Here you were, standing outside of the Tau Beta Zeta frat house under the guise of needing to work on your project (which wasn’t necessarily a lie) but really planning on getting him to finally fuck you. Yes, you were aware of the fact that he was a virgin but it was obvious from the start that he didn’t give a shit about that.

Unless he did. Your hand pauses just inches from the door, but you shake your head to clear the anxious thought and you knock on the door. 

One, two, three…one, two three…one—

On the third round of knocks, a boy swings the door open. His eyes are wide, his hair in disarray. 

“Hi.” You wave your hand with a smile, but the boy just stands there with a dumb look on his face. Were all the TBZ boys like this? 

“…Hi?” He says it in the form of a question, which draws a laugh out of you. 

“I’m Y/N.”

“…Sunwoo…” 

“Oh, the star soccer player, right?” He nods and you grin. “I saw your last game, the one where your girlfriend— I’m assuming girlfriend— knocked some sense into you. You really killed it out there!”

“Thank you…uh…can— can I help you?” You rock back and forth on your heels, biting at your lip in thought. The idea of wearing a skirt is choosing to bite you in the ass as a cold breeze picks up. 

“I’m here for Eric, actually. Um…Eric Sohn? I think he lives here, right?” Sunwoo’s jaw drops, his head dipping down as well and he steps to the side to let you in. You smile, using your feet to pull your shoes off as you step into the entryway. You see a pile of shoes to your left, the larger men’s pairs shoved into a large pile while some smaller women’s shoes sit neatly. You can’t help but wonder if it was the girlfriends that did this or if one of the frat members cares a bit more about them than the others. 

“He’s…he’s on the second floor, third door on the left…” You thank Sunwoo, ignoring how he follows you with obvious confusion and awe. Another boy passes by you, staring in confusion but ends up in the same state as the soccer player when he explains the situation. 

You knock before you enter Eric’s room, rocking on your heels again as you wait for some sort of response. You get none, and when you go to interrupt him, the second boy stops you. 

“Hi, um, I’m Haknyeon— you can call me Hak, though— Eric’s— he’s— he’s gaming. You can just go in because there’s no way you’re gonna get his attention by— by, um— yeah.” He stumbles over his words in an almost incomprehensible way, but you get the basic idea. 

“Thanks, Hak,” you dip your head and twist the doorknob. Sunwoo and Hak both watch you enter the room, only snapping out of their daze when you shut the door tightly behind you. 

“You…you saw that too, right?” Haknyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder with a grin on his face.

“My best friend…” Sunwoo’s voice is quiet with confusion. “He’s…he’s getting bitches?”

“What did I say about saying that,” his girlfriend pops around the corner with a scowl on her face. Sunwoo’s face lights up, but it disappears at the scolding gaze she gives him.

“Sorry, baby,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Give them some damn privacy,” she clicks her tongue, eyeing the door. “Lord knows they’re probably gonna need it.”

Eric is facing a large gaming setup when you enter the room. You can see the dark polo sweater which is partially unzipped to reveal some of his chest, the beige hat, and the khaki combo he had, unfortunately, chosen to wear today (you’re going to have to update his closet soon, whether you date him or not. You have to save the next girl he’s with). The lights, shockingly, are purple rather than the red you had expected. You can see expensive monitors and a keyboard, all of which are cleaner than any other gamer’s setup that you’d seen. In fact, his whole room is so much cleaner than you had ever given him credit for. You’d expected to see something absolutely filthy, but Eric never fails to shock you.

What doesn’t shock you, however?

Five Nights At Freddy’s playing on the screens.

You clear your throat, and he barely even spares a glance at you. You wonder if he even recognized that it was you—

“Yo, Y/N!” Oh god, this might not go as planned. “You’re early!” 

“Figured I’d come by to hang out before we got started on the paper.” You come up behind him, dropping your bag and jacket by the edge of the bed, revealing the black sheer top you’d chosen to go with your white skirt. You’d also chosen the perfume you know gets his attention the most, the one that always has him practically gluing his face to your neck. 

That doesn’t happen this time. He stays glued to his game, his legs spread wide open and tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. 

“Feel— fuck!” His body jerks when an animatronic (Foxy, maybe?) comes out of a vent and gives him barely enough time to start protecting himself. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, I might take a while.”

You hum, not moving from your spot. Your hands are on the back of his gaming chair, your eyes focused on the screen with fake intrigue. He doesn’t acknowledge you, so you let your hands begin to sink onto his shoulders. His chin tilts toward you a bit, but he corrects himself and goes back to ignoring you even when your nails graze the skin of his collarbone. 

“What are you doing?” Eric asks, but it’s more dismissive than anything. 

“Just watching you play,” you reply with a sly grin. Another jumpscare appears, and he grunts when you intentionally dig your nails into him (something you’ve learned he loves over the past two weeks). 

Part two of your scheme begins when you sink to your knees beside Eric and slip under his desk. This grabs his attention. Eric watches as you get comfortable, no longer paying attention to the screens in front of him when you run your hands up his thighs, grazing the button of his khaki pants. 

“Y/N, this—” his breath catches in his throat when you finally undo the button and pull the zipper down. You can see his member already hardening, twitching in his boxers. “You don’t have to— I don’t— why—”

“Jus’ play your game, baby.” You purr, your fingers hooking under the band of his boxers to tug them and his pants down at the same time. His jaw is hanging open, eyes wide with awe, but you stop your movements. “Play your game, Eric, or I’m leaving.”

His response is immediate, sliding his chair closer to you and lifting his hips to let you work. Your smirk is wide, and you yank his clothing down in one go, letting them rest around his ankles. Eric’s knee begins to bounce, and you rest your hand on top of it to steady him. His member, in just a few moments, has completely hardened. You can see the slick precum beginning to leak from his tip, and you lower your mouth to catch each drop on his tongue. 

The moan he emits is loud, and you pull your mouth back just an inch to dig your nails into his thigh.

“Stay quiet and don’t cum unless I say so.” He whimpers in response, and you bring your mouth back onto him. You begin by suckling at his tip, letting your tongue swirl around him like a lollypop, and listening to his barely restrained moans. You hear clicking and tapping on his keyboard, as well as random noises from the game

You take him a little deeper and his thighs tense, but he’s good at staying quiet. He’s good even when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Even when you take him so deep that you’re choking on him and spit is dripping from your mouth and onto his skin. Even when you begin hollowing your mouth and bobbing your head, and swallowing around him a few times when you take him all the way down so your nose is against his pelvis. 

Another jumpscare and his hips jerk and force him farther down your throat. You moan around him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, and that elicits a whine from him.

“Y/N,” he pleads. “I’ve been s-so good for yo—you right? Haven’t— Haven’t I been good? Ple—please let me cum. Jus’ wanna cum, please?” 

Eric sees you look up at him through your eyelashes, and just the sight of you slobbering all over him has his eyes rolling back in his head.

Then you pull off him completely, leaving his dick twitching and lonely against his stomach. 

“Why did— why did you pull off?” His eyes are dazed, and you flash a coy smile at him. 

“I told you to pay attention to the game, didn’t I?” 

“I— yeah, you did but— but I just— you—” Eric is tearing up as you begin to push your body out from under the desk to stand in front of him. 

“Poor baby,” you cup his cheek and your stomach churns when he leans into your palm with a sigh. “Should’ve just paid attention and beat the night, then, hm?” 

“Please,” he whines, leaving little kisses on your palm and working his way to your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, and then he’s pulling you onto his lap so you’re nearly sitting on his dick. You can feel it pulsing against your core, and you can’t help the tiny rolls of your hips to gain some sort of friction. “Please, just— I’ll…I’ll do anything you want. I’ll— I’ll eat you out, I’ll finger you, fuck, I’ll— I’ll let you sit on my face if that’s what you want.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against his chest in thought. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 

His body tenses and his cheeks begin to flush, his eyes refusing to meet yours. 

“Eric,” you say softly, moving your hand to his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Eric, talk to me.”

“I— I don’t—”

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything, Eric,” you reassure him, stopping the ministrations of your hips and bringing your free hand to the side of his neck. “I just want to know why. I want to understand. Do you— do you not want me? Do you wanna save yourself for another girl?” 

“No!” He snaps, his voice a bit harsher than he’d intended for it to come out but it has you flinching away from him. In a moment of panic, he brings his hands to your waist and tugs you closer to him. “I— sorry. It’s not— it’s not that at all.”

“Then why?” Your hands are playing with the ends of his blonde hair, and Eric swallows once. Twice. And then he tucks his head into your shoulder. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

You nod, disappointment filling you, but you don’t let it show. 

“Let’s work on the project.” You slide off his lap, ignoring the somewhat heartbroken gaze he shoots you. “The paper is due in a couple of days, so I grabbed a few sources and drafted an outline.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just tucks his member back into his pants and comes to join you on his bed. The air is tense and you know he wants to say something. You wait for him to say it. 

He doesn’t.

“Eric, you’re fucking stupid.” Sunwoo throws himself onto his best friend’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Eric hitting his head on his desk.

“I know…”

“I mean, we already knew this from previous incidents. Ahem, giving my then-crush-now-girlfriend a concussion. But holy shit I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.”

“I know!” Eric whines, sitting heavily on the gaming chair he’d gotten head on almost four hours ago, and could have gotten laid in had he not been a damn moron.

“I mean, you’ve been trying to get laid by this chick for how long? And you cockblocked yourself because…” Sunwoo trails off, his eyebrows knitting together as he sits up. “Wait, why did you cockblock yourself?”

“I don’t know, man!” Eric huffs and leans his head back. “Fuck, she was so nice about it too. Too nice. I know damn well she’s pissed at me but she’s too fucking nice to say anything.”

“Well yeah,” Sunwoo shrugs. “Sex 101— don’t force yourself onto anyone. Hello? Why would she do that to you?”

Eric crosses his arms over his chest, using his feet to spin his chair back and forth lightly. You had been really sweet about everything. You could’ve gotten mad at him, especially since this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but you didn’t. You wanted him to be ready. 

And he was. He was so ready! He just— he gets nervous around you! What if he’s a disappointment? What if he’s so bad that you have to fake an orgasm? What if he doesn’t fit? What if he hurts you?

“Eric,” Sunwoo claps his hands together to snap Eric out of his thoughts. “Stop getting distracted while I’m trying to help you in a way that won’t lead to injuries.” 

The poor, self-cockblocked boy lifts his head with a pout. 

“There’s a party this weekend, right?” 

“Yeah…” Eric tilts his head.

“Make sure she’s there. Use whatever excuse you need to, and make sure she shows up. Then, ask her to talk. Go somewhere private, talk to her, tell her you’re ready, and then fuck until the sun comes up.” Sunwoo claps again, throwing his out to the side in a cocky I just made the best plan ever manner. “First of all, gets you laid, second of all— free revenge on Sangyeon.”

Eric drums his fingers against his legs in thought. The plan was good, he’d admit that. Of course, not out loud. No, he would never let Sunwoo know that he was right about something.

“Fine,” Eric agrees. “But if shit goes south, it’s your fault.”

“Deal,” Sunwoo grins mischievously. “And if shit goes right, you owe me and my girlfriend dinner.”

“Deal.”

Eric doesn’t see you at all that week, something that has him nearly crying on the ground in Sangyeon’s bedroom. He’d texted you, asked if you were okay, sent you notes, told you about the party but didn’t outright invite you. Nothing. No sign of you in lectures, no texts from you aside from a confirmation that you’d submit your written portion of the midterm.

“Take a damn breath.” Sangyeon rolls his eyes and tugs a formfitting black mock-neck shirt over his head, sliding a silver chain around his neck afterward. “She’s probably busy.”

“But she never goes this long without texting me! Or being in a lecture!” The youngest member of the frat holds his head in his hands, staring down at the white buttondown shirt that hung somewhat loosely on his body. 

“Maybe she hates you, I don’t know!” Sangyeon exclaims. “Stop bothering me about it!” Eric pouts up at the TBZ president.

“But you know how to handle these things!”

“Not when you’re on my ass about it all day every day for a week straight.” Sangyeon’s lip curls and Eric huffs, laying back on the hardwood floor. “Dude, just be patient. Who knows, maybe she was sick? Maybe she’ll show up today and you’ll get laid. Just. Be. Patient.”

And patient he was. 

He lurked around the party, a drink in his hand and a ripped red baseball cap covering his head and shielding his red-rimmed eyes from the public. They didn’t need to know he’d cried over his two-year-long crush ghosting him. 

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” He turns his body slowly, ready to crack a corny joke, and walk away from whoever yelled in his ear, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. You’re in another tiny little black skirt and a black bralette that was used as a poor excuse for a shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. He nearly crumbles in front of you, ready to worship you and the ground you walk on, ready to take you in front of all these people so they know that he’s yours.

“Oh my god.” 

You laugh at the dumbstruck look in his eyes, at the way his eyes are stuck on your chest, and the way your bralette pushes your boobs up just enough to catch attention. 

“You okay, Eric?” Your hand is on his arm, and in an instant his cup is thrown to the side and his lips are on yours, his tongue shoved into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, and, really, the suddenness of it all, but you don’t complain. You love how frantic he is for you, love how he’s ready to risk it all after just a week of not seeing you. 

When he parts from you, there’s a string of spit connecting your lips that only breaks when you swipe your thumb across his lip. 

“How’s that for a hello?” You say just loud enough for him to hear it. 

“We need to talk.”

“We do.” You confirm, but his lips are on yours again, and you’re so glad that everyone is distracted by a game of beer pong on the other side of the room. You let your eyes flutter shut, moaning into his mouth when he pushes his tongue against yours. They dance together, swirling around each other but not fighting for dominance. No, this kiss isn’t about that. This is two people being addicted to the taste of each other, two people who could never get enough of what the other has to offer. 

You have to force yourself to part from him, turning away so you can find somewhere more private— preferably his bedroom. He doesn’t stray from you, gluing his lips to the side of your neck as you try to weave through the crowd. It’s not easy, especially with Eric on you and refusing to let go, but you don’t mind. 

Not when he shoves you against his dresser as soon as his bedroom door is shut and locked. 

The handles of the drawers dig against your spine, but you’re too distracted by Eric’s lips on your chest to care. His hat is missing, likely somewhere on the staircase. Your jacket has been thrown to the opposite side of the room, the straps of your bralette shoved down and both breasts freed from its confines so Eric can lick and suck and bite at the soft mounds. 

“Eric,” you moan out, arching your back into his hunched form. He groans against you, sucking hard at your nipple and eliciting a loud moan from you. “Eric, pick me up.” 

Without even pulling away, he does, plopping you unceremoniously onto his dresser and moving his lips to the other breast, replacing his mouth with his hand. Your hand comes to the back of his head, and you find yourself smiling at the desperation your lover shows. 

“Missed me that much, huh?” Your composure is crumbling, but you don’t care. “Might have to disappear more often.”

He rips away from your chest, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t even joke about that. I thought you died.”

You kiss him again, both hands holding his face to yours, and your legs wrap around his waist. Eric’s hands find your thighs and he lifts you off the dresser. He sucks on your tongue, biting on your lip when you start to pull away and you whimper at the sting of pain. 

“Thought I died, hm?” You brush back the blonde strands of hair covering his sweaty forehead and smirk. “It’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm? What would you have done? Fucked your fist for the rest of your life?” 

A muscle in his jaw feathers and he throws you down on his bed. You yelp, eyes widening at the personality change. A week ago, he would’ve been begging you for any touch, would’ve been falling apart just for one look at your dripping pussy. But now?

Now he looks like a starved animal, and you’re the first helpless creature he’s seen in weeks. 

“Eric,” you warn, watching him unbutton his shirt. “Remember what I said.” 

He eyes you, smirking at the way your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. It’s odd, isn’t it? You’d probably been bare in front of him countless times but you’d hardly seen him with his pants down.

“Holy fuck.” You stare at his torso, at the chiseled abs and biceps, at the veins in his arms, at the trail of hair leading down to his dick. “You’re— you’re fucking shredded.”

“Shredded?” He quirks an eyebrow, undoing his belt and the button of his pants so he can push them down and kick them to the side. “That’s the first word you thought of?”

“Well—” you clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him. “I mean— you are.”

“Cute,” He coos and crawls over you, hooking his fingers into the hem of your skirt. “May I?”

“You may,” you look at him again, then down his body and swallow hard at the sight of him. You’ve seen him many times. You’ve held him in your hand, in your mouth. You know what to expect.

So why does it make you so nervous now?

“You’re getting distracted,” Eric kisses his teeth, lowering his face to yours but not kissing you. He traces his nose across your cheek, light kisses from his lips going with it. His nose nudges against your jaw, urging you to tilt your jaw up so he can kiss you there. You do, and his lips feel like fire against your skin. “I thought you liked it when people pay attention?”

“I— I do!” You gasp out, and Eric laughs against your skin. Where the fuck is all this confidence coming from? 

“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?” His fingers press against your sopping-wet entrance and you lift your hips in a weak attempt to get them inside of you. 

“I am!” Tears are welling in your eyes. “I am paying attention to you, Eric, please!”

He juts out his lip in a mocking pout, using the hand that’s not against your heat to wipe the tears away. 

“Okay baby,” he says softly, sinking two thick, calloused fingers into you. “Don’t cry, not yet.” 

The intrusion has you crying out and Eric does his best to hush you, to soothe you, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your fingers cling to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shift with every movement of his arm. Eric grins when your eyes finally flutter shut, when you finally give in to him. He praises you when he slips a third finger into your core, and then a fourth. He praises you as he works you through the sting, curling his fingers gently to search for the spot he knows would have you falling to pieces under him. 

Eric finds it easily and is oh so pleased by your wail of his name. He grins almost maliciously, when you begin to shake, when your body begins to thrash, and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag down his back. 

“Always so easy for me,” he hums, staring in awe at the wrinkle between your eyebrows and how your tongue practically hangs out of your mouth. When he knows you’re about to cum, he crushes his lips against yours again and begins to move his hand faster. You’re sobbing into his mouth, unable to kiss him back between your cries and moans, but Eric doesn’t mind. 

He lets you grind against his hand until you’re not shaking anymore. Then, and only then, does he pull his fingers out of you, watching with curious satisfaction as your cum drips from his fingers and onto the blanket below you. 

“Don’t— don’t sit there staring at that shit.” you hiss, but Eric just smiles. 

“So you can speak coherently now?” 

“Shut up and fuck me already, or do you need me to teach you how to do that too?” 

Eric’s gaze hardens, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You push yourself to sit up, but Eric pushes you right back down and uses his hands to push your legs apart. 

“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” he grunts, lining his member up with your entrance. 

“Really? That’s not what it looked like three weeks ag—oh fuck!” Your back arches off the bed when he suddenly sinks into you. Four fingers seem to have been just barely enough, the sting fading just as fast as it came. Or maybe you just like the pain so much it turned into pleasure. Whatever the reason, you’re quick to tell Eric to pick up the pace. 

You’re both shocked and impressed by the movement of his hips. He alternates between smooth, sharp rolls and harsh, pointed thrusts that have your body forced up the bed and the headboard knocking against the wall.

“You think I need your help?” Eric growls, digging his hands into your thighs and spreading them farther apart, lifting the lower half of your body a bit to change the angle. This brings a new pleasure to both of you. Something that you’ve never felt before, and has your mind reeling. “I didn’t need you. I wanted you. I wanted every part of you. I craved you, craved your taste. It was pure fucking luck that you wanted me too.”

“Eric,” You gasp out, sinking your teeth into the side of his neck to leave another mark on his skin. “Eric, feels so good, god it feels so good please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh my god!”

“Look at you,” he yanks your head out of his neck by your hair, staring down at your fucked out face as he continues to plow into you with no remorse. “All fucked out for me. I did this. Your little virgin boy. Isn’t it embarrassing?” 

You whine in response but apparently, that isn’t what he’s looking for because he slows down at your lack of response. 

“Answer me,” he hisses.

“I— I don’t— Eric I don’t—” You don’t even know what he’s trying to ask. You stopped listening as soon as he pulled your hair, the sting of it feeling too good. Eric laughs, picking up his pace again and dropping your head back down onto his pillows. 

“What? Too fucked out to answer me? Who would’ve thought that I was the virgin and not you? What would people think if they walked in here and saw me fucking you like this?” He doesn’t expect an answer this time, not that you’d be able to give him one anyway. 

Your legs draw tightly around his slim waist, holding him close as your orgasm approaches again, but Eric doesn’t seem to be even close to cumming. Even when your second orgasm washes over you, and then your third. He fucks you through each one, sweat dripping from his hair and down his torso until his body is sliding against yours. Your body feels numb, but at the same time, you can feel everything. Every drag of his length against your walls, every punch of his tip against your cervix. Your arms curl around his neck, but your grip is loose. 

When Eric’s hips finally begin to stutter, you’re about four orgasms in, the fifth about to wash over you. Your voice is hoarse, a puddle of drool on the pillow under your head. You can’t find it in you to make any more noise, just gasping breathes and quiet whines. You cum together, and the feeling of his cum filling you has your back arching again. This time, Eric catches you and holds your body against his. He kisses you gently, uncaring that you can barely breathe let alone kiss him. 

“That— that was a good talk,” he jokes, and you say nothing at first. “Um…are— are you okay?” 

“You just—” you clear your throat, but it does nothing. “You just fucked me within an inch of my life, as a completely inexperienced virgin, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

Eric frowns, settling down on top of you, but careful not to lay his full weight onto your obviously aching body. He can see the bruises he’d left all over you— on your chest, your neck, your hips. Anywhere his lips or hands touched, there was a bruise left in his wake. He imagines, however, that he looks no different. He can feel the scratches you left on his back, marring every inch of his skin and likely drawing a bit of blood, he can see a hickey on his arm that you left at some point and can imagine how the front of his body looks.

“So…so you’re not okay?” He tries and you huff, throwing an arm over your eyes. 

“Eric, I love you, but you’re such a dumbass.” You groan, shoving him off your body so you can breathe properly. “Go draw a bath. I’m gonna need one after that shit.”

“Before I do, can you answer one question?” You pry your eyes open to scowl at him and his damn puppy-like eyes. 

“What?” 

“Are we— are we dating now?” 

“We won’t be for long if you don’t get that fucking bath going.” 

“Aw, yeah!” Eric cheers, jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom to start the bath like you asked. “Guess who isn’t single anymore, Sunwoo!”

“What’s your problem?” Haknyeon peers at Sangyeon over the lip of his mug. The frat president is glaring at you and Eric with something murderous in his eyes, which seem to have dark bags under them.

“My bedroom is right next to Eric’s.” Haknyeon raises an eyebrow, and Sangyeon clears his throat. “My bedroom is next to Eric’s.”

“Okay…oh. OH. Oh, shit man, I’m sorry.” Haknyeon turns his gaze to the two of you, grimacing at the thought of how long Sangyeon could have been kept up, but smiling when he sees how the two of you are cuddled on the couch. The grimace returns when he sees the state of your necks, neither of you having bothered to hide what you did to each other. 

“I mean,” Sunwoo sits on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You kinda deserved it after what you did to him.”

“What the fuck— what did I do to him?” Sangyeon exclaims, and Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow. 

“You fucked your girlfriend for, what, seven rounds straight? The poor man didn’t get any sleep that night. Be glad you were able to rest after that.”

Haknyeon raises his cup, and the three frat boys return to “subtly” watching the two of you.

“Do you at least know if he was good? You know, for a virgin.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sunwoo, shut up.”

“You shut up, Hak! It was just a question!”

“You two are fucking nasty,” Sangyeon’s lip curls into a sneer, trying to block out the memories of last night. “But I’m gonna need a shit ton of bleach if I wanna forget that bullshit.”

“Hot.”

“Sunwoo, shut UP!”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[lxvebun]

flurry of colours

synopsis: asking the genshin boyfriends what color they see you as

content: Alhaitham/Kazuha/Wriothesley x gender neutral reader. Fluff! Use of nickname darling/dove. Wrio is pretty short I wasn't entirely sure how to write him😭. English is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡

D*rk content blogs do not interact (*a)

Alhaitham

"It's not your problem if Kaveh's struggling with his color schemes, darling" he replies quickly, not even bothering to look up from the page in his book.

"Archons, Haitham, it's not like that. Just look at me and imagine what color I radiate :)

he sighs a little, closing the book but keeping his fingers between the pages. Even if he thinks it's a bit of a silly question, he does take a moment to let his eyes trace over you, shamelessly letting them linger on your lips too. for a second you think he's actually going to answer your question but then you see him failing to suppress a smirk and his gaze meets yours with an expression you can only describe as Are you serious?

"Humor me Alhaitham"

Alright, let me think.. he completely closes his book this time, placing it in front of him on his desk and rests his head on his hand

"Colors can actually invoke a lot of thoughts and impressions. Most people associate red with warmth, and passion, but also with danger or fear depending on the context. A lot of people view black as a masking color be it clothes to hide certain parts of yourself or the shadows in your nightmares, but you can also see it as a protective color as it doesn't reflect. Blue is usually related to the sea, the lighter tones with sunny mornings walking along the shore, darker tones of blue can relate to the deep cold unknown depth that's hidden from prying eyes......if I had to describe you a color..it would be green. Not necessarily because of the associations with it, wisdom, calmness, and hope. which do apply to you don't get me wrong, but green is my favorite color, and you're my favorite person. Simple as that. Now, care to read with me for a bit?

*he's so annoying but he does it so well. Bites him*

Kazuha and wrio under the cut♡

Kazuha

kazuha has been a bit gloomy as of lately. His usual flowery words have lost their petals, His leatherbound notebook has not made an appearance in a while, neither have the little poems he writes for you to wake up to, and his fingers are clean, not covered with his usual, and at this point, you believed to be permanent, ink stains. It's clear he's been going through the infamous writers block. something that most artist go through and also get out of but it's nonetheless an infuriating part of being an creative individual. But since Kazuha has made you his muse as he told you many many times before, who are you to not try and help inspire your lovely boyfriend.

It takes you a while of bringing him to random locations for sunset walks or stargazing and asking him random questions until one finally hits the spot. His eyes immediately lighting up as he turns to you with such a warm expression of love and adoration you're pretty sure your heart skipped a beat

"That's a very beautiful question, dove"

He takes a moment to think about it, eyes lovingly tracing over every little detail of you, the backlight of the sun, the glimmer of the waves shining in your eyes

"I don't think describing you as one color does you justice. You shift hues as softly and gently as the day shifts into night, and the sun makes place for the moon in the sky. But if I do have to say just one, I see hints of purple in you, but that could also be because the color reminds me of my hometown and everytime I look at you, my soul feels at home" He answers with a new found excitement in his voice

"Actually, maybe I can use this for a poem-"

*i'm projecting can you tell?*

Wriothesley

You often come down into the fortress to spend some time with him on his break. With both of you living on different levels of Fontaine, you'll take any chance you can get to be around him and even when it's not officially his break time, he could never say no to you....or tea time

That's why you're here now sitting on the edge of his desk as he hastily discared the paperwork to make room for the teapot and biscuits. As quickly as the tea flows, the conversation passes from deep and meaningful, romantic ones, to terrible jokes and banter as both of you just talk about whatever comes to mind.

So he doesn't raise an eyebrow when you ask him what colors remind him of you. it's quite endearing how he just goes along with whatever silly questions or requests you throw at him without making you feel embarrassed about it

"Probably between a pearlescent white and a warm honey yellow."

"Interesting answer...why?"

"the colours remind me of the sun and the moon, and living at the bottom of the ocean here in the fortress we don't have either of those of course. You're the closest thing I have to feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin or experiencing calm atmosphere of the moonlight. And to be honest I prefer you over the real thing♡"

Hes so cute *cries*

Thank you for reading angels!♡

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 4 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, the budding tension is everything.

Word count: 3.2k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: sorry for being so late and still coming up with a shorter chapter. but we progressed a lot in this!!

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

A wave of nausea hits your gut as soon as you step into the elevator. 

Your eyes are full to the brim but you are determined not to let a single tear slip, not for the man who invalidated you and your feelings by falling for someone else. So you laugh instead. 

A sarcastic, loud laugh escapes your throat as you realize you have spent the better part of your day trying not to run into him but you failed. Just like you failed the relationship and just like Jungkook failed your love. 

Shutting your eyes tight, you take in deep breaths.. One, two, three. 

You have a session, Y/N.You can’t let your personal issues unsettle you now. You tell yourself again and again until the elevator touches the ground. 

And then your eyes fall on him as soon as you exit the building. 

Hoseok looks beautiful today. He is sporting a purple floral shirt, which might have looked bizarre on anyone else, with baggy jeans and a cute bucket hat. He regards you with his signature heart shaped smile and a wave upon seeing you. 

Right then and there, you feel your heart being repaired. You feel as if your fresh wounds have been cleaned and stitched. 

Your heart thumps in your chest as you realize, all your distress just vanished with just one smile from Hoseok. One look at him and you completely overcame the negative feelings that you had been suffering from since coming across Jungkook. 

You also realize that Jung Hoseok is most definitely different from the other guardians of your counselees. He is more, much more than you are proud of admitting. 

“Hey” Hoseok chimes in. His eyes fall on yours and they gradually dip down to your collarbones and then to your cleavage. 

Heat settles on your face. You hope you are not appearing to be too flushed. 

“Hi.” you reply when you find his eyes locking into yours again. But he doesn’t smile this time, rather there is a tinge of darkness inside his brown orbs. The tension is palpable. So much so that you had to divert your eyes and look at the car. 

“Let’s go.” Hoseok murmurs, you nod. 

And then he places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards his car. Goosebumps travel all around your body. God! Were you always this sensitive? Or is it because you have been touched deprived for so long now? 

Or is it because of the man himself? 

You try not to show any difference in your posture. Walking steadily you reach the car and settle on the passenger seat. 

Sua breaks into a big smile seeing you and greets you with her usual cheery voice. When you greet her back and take her in you realize that this father-daughter duo is twinning.  

“Oh my- You guys look adorable!” you giggle reaching out to pat Sua’s head through the small-sized bucket hat she is wearing. 

“You are twinning too! Your dress has flowers just like ours!” Sua exclaims and her voice is a pure serotonin boost, you can’t help laughing out loud. 

“Well” you take a look at your dress, “I guess you are not wrong.” 

Feeling a pair of eyes on your figure again, you look up and you find Hoseok staring down at you again. Even though he diverts his eyes, you still feel the weight of his gaze on your chest. 

“The audition though.. Is in the US” Jungkook sighs. His face finds the hollow space created by his palms. His shoulders drop and he feels as if his career is approaching an end. 

“And?” You place your question carefully. 

He sighs again, “You know, Y/N. I can’t afford flying all the way to the states!” 

“But we can.” there is a small smile lingering on your lips. 

“What do you-” 

“What I mean is, Jungkook, you pay as much as you can, I can take care of the rest.” leaning towards him, you place a sweet kiss on his cheek. 

“But, Y/N, I- I don’t wanna be a burden on you.” the words choke on his throat but his mind eases as he looks into your eyes. 

“Kook” you hold both of his hands with both of yours, “It’s okay to ask for help, especially from the people you love and who love you back. I am a part of your life now, we have a long way to go together, so you can pay me back anytime you want. Okay?” 

Jungkook’s heart soars and soars and soars in his chest. His emotions spill through his eyes and you wipe those ever so gently. 

When he locks his lips with yours, you taste like forever. 

He is such a traitor. He left the person who was with him through thick and thin. 

When you got three different offers from three different clinics, he only got rejected in auditions. When you started sending money to your parents every month, his agency got bankrupt. When you reached new heights everyday, jungkook only fell lower and lower. 

But you never once looked down on him, never once treated him like the inferior one he was. Rather you are the reason why he is at his current position. But he couldn’t pay you back. 

He failed. 

He fell.. For someone else. 

And it’s only justified for you to hate him but still the thought only stings him, it angers him, unsettles him. 

But more than everything… It hurts him. And he doesn’t know if he is brave enough to find out the reasons. 

“Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?” Jimin’s scream brings Jungkook back to reality. 

“Yes? Yes. Yes I am listening.” He tries to overview the situation, trying to find out what the elder has been talking about. 

“No you are not. This is the third time I have asked you if you want me to pack some kimchi or not.” Jimin fusses standing on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. His eyes suggest the fact that he has a very clear idea about what’s going on inside Jungkook’s head. “You are thinking of her, aren’t you?” 

“You should definitely pack some kimchi for me.” Jungkook ignores Jimin’s question, completely changes the topic. 

The elder only nods, deciding not to pry anymore. 

Never in a million years you would have known that a bakery can be this fancy. 

But then… you met the Jung duo. 

The sweet aroma of buttery goodness envelops your senses as you step inside.  

The vanilla scent perfectly matches with the white interior of the bakery and you are forced to think if you're underdressed for a bakery session or not. 

Sua tugs at your hand when she sees you scanning the place with utmost attention. 

"Is it your first time here?" She asks sweetly. 

"Yes. Never thought bakeries could look this fancy." You giggle a little. 

When your eyes fall ahead, you find a young waitress guiding Hoseok towards your table. 

Maybe he had reserved a table earlier. 

The table is situated at a nice cozy corner of the bakery, which is good since you're here to counsel Sua and it's better to keep things within an invisible barrier. 

Hoseok has been trying. 

He has been trying his hardest to keep his eyes away from you, to keep it on only your face when it’s needed but oh boy! 

It’s not his fault that you are looking so gorgeous today or the fact that your dress has a low neck or that it is fitting you like a glove emphasizing your body curves more than he can take in innocently. 

It’s not his fault that he caught your eyes shining when those fell onto his, or the way you smiled at him a little intimately today. He doesn’t know how his thoughts or observations make sense but here he is feeling like a giddy teenager getting to share a desk with his crush for the very first time. 

“Mr. Jung and baby Sua, how are you doing today?” It's the waitress who usually attends them during their visit. 

Hoseok smiles at her and she smiles back wider than needed. 

“We are doing fine, Ms. Shin, what about you?” he returns the courtesy. 

“Same here. You have got a friend today, I see.” she now regards you, taking a good look at you from head to toe. 

You smile at her kindly but refrain from saying anything. 

“Yeah we do. About the order please go as usual for me and Sua and” he looks at you and finds you captivating yet again, “what about you, Y/N?” 

“Just a cup of hot chocolate please with a side of marshmallows.” 

“Sure” the waitress notes down your order with another weird glance and you notice it this time. 

Sua starts giggling as soon as she leaves, when you two look at her she stifles her laugh with one of her tiny hands and says, “she thinks you are daddy’s girlfriend. She is offended. She thought she could flirt with him forever.” 

If Hoseok is seeing things right then you are blushing. Your cheeks and the tip of your ears turn red as Sua mentions you as Hoseok’s girlfriend. 

Honestly, he ain’t doing any better. Hoseok feels as if someone has uncaged ten million butterflies in his stomach. He can’t help staring at you yet again. 

“So shall we play a game till the food arrives?” You break the tension by finally starting with your session. 

“Game? Here? Right now?” Sua enquiries innocently. 

“Yeah. Let's play a word game. I will name a word and you will have to tell me the first thing or person that comes to mind. okay?” 

“Wow, that sounds fun!” Sua replies expectantly. 

“So, let’s start. I will go first and ask you five words, then you can do the same.” hoseok sees you preparing for a bit and then finally uttering the first word, “favorite” 

“Blueberry!” Sua answers immediately. 

You chuckle, “Oh! So blueberry is Sua’s favorite fruit, I see.” pausing for a bit you say, “happy” 

“Drawing” sua’s reply comes within an instant again. 

“Great. Love?” 

“Daddy” Hoseok’s heart fills at his daughter’s answer. He smiles on his own as his eyes become a little moist. 

“That’s so sweet” you coo at her. “Umm.. next is scared” 

Sua’s face dulls at this as she says “Jaemin” softly. 

“Are you scared of him because he pulls tricks on you?” you place the question carefully. Sua nods. 

“What does he do to you, Sua? Tell me so that I and Hoseok can help you.” You place a hand on top of Sua’s. 

Her head hangs even lower but she says, “he- he told the entire class that I am an illigimate child, that daddy is not my real dad and that is why I don’t have a mom. No one talks to me anymore. Not even my best friend Yoo Ri. They don’t play with me, call me an outskirt and laugh at me. Jaemin locked me in the room for a whole period and told me if I complained to the teachers he would tell them what I am and get me expelled from the school. I didn’t tell anyone. Not even daddy. I was afraid that whatever he said was true and dad is not my dad. He even threw my lunch out of the window and made me starve.” 

Hoseok sees red. 

His eyes are full of tears and he is ready to set the world on fire today. The way Sua could not even pronounce illegitimate properly yet she knew what it meant, is absolutely heartbreaking. 

He slaps the table out of anger and both of you and Sua jump out of surprise. 

You look at him, placing a hand on top of his, you whisper softly, “Calm down. I have got this. Don’t worry.” 

And he actually calms down. 

Is this what it feels like having a partner beside you through your high and low? 

Is this what it feels like having you as his partner? If yes then he would kill to have you, even if it’s unethical for him to even think of that. 

“Sua, do you trust me?” you ask the little one. 

She nods. 

“Then do you believe me if I say that you are not an illegitimate child and Hoseok is your real dad?” 

“Is that right, daddy?” Sua asks softly. 

Hoseok stands up from his table, kneels down in front of his girl, holds his little hands with his bigger ones and says “Yes baby. I am your dad. I swear you are my real daughter, I made you with my blood and flesh.”  

Sua breaks into a loud sob, as she hugs her dad tightly. 

“Y/N, we still have a word left?” Sua speaks with a mouth full of blueberry cheesecake. 

“Oh right.” You sit straight again, taking a sip from your hot chocolate. Your red lips attach to the edge of the cup, looking perfectly pouty and kissable. 

Hoseok finds it tough to breathe all of a sudden. 

“So the next word is.. Hate.” 

“Mina aunty.” 

Fuck! Sua had to mention her out of everyone. 

“Who is Mina aunty?” you ask the kid.  

“She is actu-” hoseok tries to handle the situation but his daughter is faster than him apparently. 

“She is daddy’s friend. She often comes to our home whenever I am asleep. And she sleeps there! Does she not have a home or something? Oh I hate her.” 

“Oh I see.” you divert your eyes towards hoseok with a knowing look. His face reddens and he has to avoid looking into your eyes. 

“Now it’s your turn.” Sua chimes in and Hoseok feels relieved when you stop staring at him. 

“Yeah, let’s start.” you take another sip. 

“Color?”

“White.” 

“Drink?” 

“Coke.” 

“Love?” 

“Jungko-” you pause. You seem to surprise yourself with the name you were about to take. 

“Oh? Why did you pause? Is that your boyfriend’s name?” Sua giggles. 

The tightness that Hoseok feels inside his chest is unjustified. 

You definitely have a boyfriend. Why did he even think he had a chance with someone as appealing as you. Why did he even start thinking there’s something cooking between you two? 

On the other hand, you seem to be quite uncomfortable with Sua’s question. 

“No. He is someone I used to know, someone I should not be taking the name of, anymore” you reply finally. 

Your expression turns somber and you start biting your lower lip. 

Maybe you are as broken as Hoseok is. 

And maybe.. Just maybe.. Hoseok has a chance to fix you. 

The air inside the car is heavy with tension again. 

You wanted to avoid Hoseok. You wanted to avoid this fuzzy feeling you feel inside your chest whenever you come closer to him. 

He has a girlfriend after all (or maybe a friend with benefits, not that you are keen to know) and you are not totally over your ex-boyfriend. 

But hoseok and Sua insisted on dropping you, which brings you here to the passenger seat yet again. 

Sua is asleep, which makes things between you and Hoseok even more tense. So, you keep your eyes on the window the entire time and sigh out of relief when your apartment comes into view. 

Taking in a deep breath while unbuckling the seat belt you say, “We’ve overcome the toughest part today. Sua will be fine soon.” 

“Yeah- yeah. Thanks for today.” Hoseok fumbles with his words. 

“It’s my job. Anyway, good night. Drive safe.” and you are already climbing out of the seat and shutting the door. 

Another second in the car and you may just ask him who the fuck Mina is. 

Just when you are about to take steps towards the entrance, Hoseok calls you from behind. 

You stop in your tracks as Hoseok comes to stand right before you. 

“Y/N, I- I actually wanted to clear up that Mina is just my colleague and we, you know, take care of each other at times.” He reasons. 

That’s what you thought too but you don’t know why he is even explaining this to you. 

“That's fine, Hoseok. There is no need to explain your personal matters to me. I am Sua’s therapist only.” yes that’s what you are, just a therapist of his daughter, a temporary addition to his life. You can’t want more. You should never want more. 

“I know but I felt the need to explain this to you. I don’t know why.” Hoseok takes a step towards you and you take a step back. Your back hits the car. 

The look in his eyes is absolutely dangerous. Your heart can’t decipher it. You mind can’t read what the man wants from you or what you want from him. But it’s addictive. You want more of his eyes, more of him.. Fuck.. all of him. Even if it’s a little too early. 

You are free falling… again. 

“Are you okay? You seemed to be uncomfortable with Sua’s question earlier.” Hoseok speaks again. And this time his breath hits your face. 

“I am fine. I should be fine.” you reply avoiding his eyes. 

“Correct me if I am crossing any lines but is that your ex-boyfriend?” 

You nod. 

You usually don’t like messing up personal and professional boundaries but with Hoseok things are different. With Hoseok you feel different. 

“He broke up with me recently after three years of relationship. He-” your voice chokes at the thought of that day when Jungkook confessed things you never even dreamt of, “he fell in love with someone else.” 

Hoseok lets out a low chuckle. When you look up at him, his eyes pierce through yours. 

“How can anyone even fall out of love with you?” His voice reaches a few octaves lower than usual. 

“What- what do you mean?” you murmur. 

“I mean that it’s hardly possible to leave you. Anyone would kill to have you as theirs.” Hoseok’s eyes drop on your lips. Your eyes are fixed on the mole right above his lip. 

“Anyone? Really? You too?” your voice comes out confident, mouth runs before mind can comprehend. 

“Fuck.” hoseok comes even closer, “Yes.. Yes I would too.” 

Hoseok leans down and your heart beats out of your chest in the prospect of what’s gonna happen next. 

But before your fantasies can take shape, the car window slides down and Sua peeks out and says, “Daddy, are we home yet?” while rubbing her eyes. 

You push Hoseok away lightly, he stumbles back replying to his daughter that they are at your apartment right now. 

Everything feels fuzzy and light but.. 

You are completely unaware of the pair of eyes that are watching your every movement through a sheer layer of cigarette smoke. 

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

[masuchu]

“𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆?” [WRIOTHESLEY]

what happens when your gaze is hopelessly bound to those seemingly innocent, but inexplicably lewd handcuffs your boyfriend constantly carries around with him? ‧₊˚

genre. smut! nothing actually happens, but the entire thing is extremely suggestive, mentions of bondage & punishment, manhandling lol

pairing. wriothesley x reader

love, masu. ah, i think this is an amazing way to get myself back into writing on this blog again! my real writing style is finally being shown haha, none of that sickly, too cute stuff. hope you enjoy!!!!! let me know if you want a part two :))

Wriothesley always spoke with such a sultry, sickening tone that left you feeling your heartbeat in places you usually do not. Perhaps the gentle rasp was what left you so at his mercy? Or maybe, the simple yet defined vocabulary he used when explaining his day, or in other, more intimate moments, what he would like to do to you.

Having said all of this, why could you care not a shred for his words this very moment? Why were absolutely none of his sentences registering in you hazed mind? Instead of paying attention like a lover should, you had your hungry eyes pinned on those alluring, metal cuffs dangling from his belt. The images they conjure, the activities they connote: it all left you salivating and shuddering in the office of the infamous Duke. (Or in terms more personal to you, your lover.)

“Like I said, the prisoners become rowdy when they get bored. I’ll need to implement— Sweetheart, are you listening?” Wriothesley’s eyes dragged across your abnormal, quivering form and he mentally concluded that something was … distracting you.

You jumped out of fear of your daydreams being exposed, but also in mild concern of the daydreams themselves and their insatiable nature. Nodding fast like a guilty toddler, you blurted,

“Oh, I have never been better! Whatever gives you the impression I am not okay?”

The man in question took a careful glance at your wide, doe eyes and stiff form. Suddenly, his head tipped back just an inch or two, and a low chuckle departed from his lips. (The action having a much more arousing effect on your nether regions than you would ever admit.)

“I said ‘are you listening’, not ‘are you okay’. Well done for exposing yourself, sweetness.”

If only he knew what else you were hiding, you thought gravely to yourself. In a naïve belief that he had unknowingly saved you from a mortifying admission, you attempted to go along with his interpretation of your abnormality.

“How silly of me! I really am not with it-!”

Your hips were suddenly locked in solid grip, hard enough to invoke deep, purple bruises along your skin, and you were yanked into a firm but comfortable chest. A chest you knew all too well.

“Also, don’t think I didn’t noticed the way you were looking at my handcuffs, pretty. Got something you wanna’ tell me?”

“You’re mistaken, I— It was simply a one time glance! Absolutely nothing to do with—!”

Your boyfriend removed one hand from your waist and weaved the remaining arm tightly around your waist entirely, keeping you firm against him. His now free hand took a delicate hold of your jaw, and whilst lifting it up his face travelled closer to yours. His hot breath fanned over your lips, and all you wanted for him to rearrange your guts then and there.

“Ah, and now you’re lying? Lying is not very becoming, especially not on you. It makes you bad, and do you know what I do to bad girls?”

His ragged yet stylish hair, his impenetrable, piercing eyes, his strong hold on your body. The physique of a God, you thought. Every aspect of him, how his eyes were intently fixes on yours, waiting for you to answer his question, to use your words— as he was always so keen on you doing. It all came together to allow you to blurt out such a meek, pitiful and uncertain whimper,

“You punish them, Your Grace?”

A devilish smirk tugged on his lips.

“Clever girl. Your little … imaginations might just be brought to life far earlier then you expected. Now strip.”

2023 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

[nightixx]

sooo I may be overlooking at things right now but hear me outt

After moon's dream/hallucinations or whatever the hell people wanna call this, I noticed a purple smoke (or idk the word but you understand) behind him

And many more thumbnails. We know that in the canon game (security breach), the virus is almost always represented by this color and with those rectangles + the aura. Now I'm not talking about vanny or idk, idc about her cuz this isn't about the canon game rn

I have many thoughts about this, because things happened before that and it could be related.

As I saw on some blogs (I can't find the one who wrote it but I know I've reblogged it), before ruin betrayed them, he said he wanted to infect ruin's virus into his own code to think like him which could be true since he really tried for weeks to think exactly like him and to have his informations. During his day off after his first breakdown after he saw old moon, sun was present the entirety of the episode, which isn't logic at all since it's MOON's day off not an episode of sun bringing food for 15 minutes ? Moon was alone in the house after a breakdown AFTER he tried to think like ruin AFTERR he said he wanted to inject the virus into himself. And strangely after that he started to act all nuts, maybe not just at the second episode but you can tell he went insane quickly, too quickly and it's too suspicious for me.

Back to the thumbnail, you can see thumbnails after thumbnails while scrolling on the channel that his aura gets more purple any time he's showing.

Now if we do the comparaison between ruin and moon reacting to the virus :

The virus accentuated ruin's personality into insanity. As we know, ruin is a melange between sun and moon. So we can say he was playful (sun's side) but with a kill code (moon's side) which made him a dangerous individual. He also lost his objective during the take over. Because yes ruin wanted to venge his friends but in the beginning he had the virus and it distracted him from his objective.

Now if we look at moon. The virus could have accentuated his personality (which makes him worse than old moon) and his goals (protecting his family, bringing solar back etc..). He's also losing his objective which is bringing solar of course. He doesn't know why he's doing it anymore.

I also remember when moon told Monty that he looked in his code and he found nothing. Kinda suspicious to me- he tended to lie back then too. I think he did really check his code to see if the virus was the cause of that. And of course when you add his poor mental state to begin with as he was grieving it doesn't help at all and makes things worse.

Anyways maybe it's my own paranoia talking rn but I just can't accept that all this insanity arc happened by Davis snapping his fingers

[varilien]

given that i've ran this blog for as many years now i think i should get much credit for this being what, only the third dick joke i've ever made here hdfkhkj

anyways. there's this point in the story where vash and wolfwood have to go their separate ways for a while, but neither of them are dealing with it particularly well

(image id below the cut since it's a longer one)

[image ID: a rough, doodley 5 panel digital comic of vash and meryl from trigun, but from my leaden skies au where they've both been lightly redesigned to fit into the setting of monster hunter. vash is a wyverian with long pointed ears, wearing a red coat with gold trim and buttons. meryl is a human wearing a beret as seen on other guild girls, but her all-white outfit is a practical two-piece blouse and shorts set. the whole comic is comprised of warm colors, orange and yellow and dark purple

panel 1: vash sitting in the foreground at a brown desk covered in candles and books, with a book opened in front of him that he flips through with a bored expression and his cheek resting against his hand. he appears to be in a library, lit by candles on dark grey chandeliers hung from the ceiling. meryl is in the background stretching up to reach a book high on a shelf, and beside her is a table which is also covered in candles and several tall stacks of books

panel 2: a closeup of vash's face as his eyes widen and his ears prick up. something in the book has apparently caught his attention

panel 3: a closeup of the page vash was looking at, an illustrated info sheet about the flying wyvern, khezu. a candle in the table brightly illuminates the colored page

panel 4: meryl has come around by vash's shoulders with a stack of books held in her arms. she quirks a brow as she looks over vash's shoulder at the book. vash has a neutral, hard to read look on his face, but his ears are still up and his eyes are still shiny and wide as he seems to consider the page for a while

panel 5: a yellow word bubble comes from vash, who huffs a long sigh and says, "maybe i should call him...". his head has tipped to the side as he rubs his neck and frowns, blushing a little with his ears drooping. meryl physically recoils from him and her face scrunches up in disgust, saying, "eww" and, "there's something wrong with you"

end ID.]

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Epilogue - Like Real People Do

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

Picture is from Pinterest AKA not mine

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: probably very inaccurate court proceedings, swearing, mentions of scars, Bear being a badass, sort of victim blaming (not really, but maybe), soft and sweet, author makes up for being an asshole for most of the series…

Word Count: 5.4k

Part 24 >> Masterlist

A/N: big thanks to @sarahsmi13s for helping me with the legal babble/criminal justice parts of this fic! You were a huge help for figuring out the details and made this part just that much sweeter!

===

A year later, 365 days after the catastrophe that had been Operation Hellfire, the five Seals involved in the treasonous attack against Bear had gone to trial and the verdict was due any minute. Former Lieutenants Colton ‘Hazard’ Richards, Michael ‘Dex’ Lewis, Jackson ‘Dodger’ Cartwright, Andrew ‘Gallows’ Stevenson, and Grant ‘Chip’ Harding all stood trial together, four of the five pleading not guilty to the charges leveled against them. 

Only Chip had cut a deal with the prosecution. He chose to testify against Hazard and the others and in exchange, he was dealt a sentence of five years at Leavenworth with a chance at parole for his minimal part in the terrorist plot hatched by the other men. He had also leveled charges of blackmail and assault against Hazard, the court finding the latter guilty on both counts. 

Several other members of Bear’s team and a few of the Dagger Squadron had also testified as witnesses for the prosecution; each sharing their experiences with what the media were now calling the ‘Team 3 Traitors’. 

Bear’s own testimony had lasted a few days as she shared her story to the grand jury, detailing her account of what had been done to her as a result of Hazard’s plotting. She denied and denounced any attempt made by the defense to try and undermine her, standing strong on the witness stand as a lawyer repeatedly tried to discredit her. She hardly remembered those days, but the media did. 

A quote of hers, “With all due respect, Mr. Harmen, I believe I know what happened to me far more vividly than your files detailed. You do not get to try for ‘reasonable doubt’ when I will wear the scars of my torture for the rest of my life,” had gone viral. She hadn’t gone searching but apparently Jake’s sister had started sending TikTok edits of the trial to him and a few had made her laugh way harder than she should have. Leave it to the observer to ridicule the men who tried and failed to take her down. 

What the media and those TikToks hadn’t seen however, was the way her hands shook on her lap with every word she spoke. No one saw the fear in her eyes as she sat across from the men who had orchestrated this plot against both her and the US Navy as an institution, and how could they? Bear had stuffed it deep down where it couldn’t be seen, but there were moments where Jake had seen it. Moments where her voice shook. 

But in the weeks this case had been in court, Bear had sat diligently behind the prosecution in her dress blues, her medals proudly on display. Among them, her Purple Heart that had been presented to her not days before the trial. She looked the very picture of a war hero. She had refused to cower, her hand held tightly by Jake’s own. He too, had testified, detailing his own experiences and his involvement in rooting out the traitors among those on the mission. 

Today though, today was different. Bear knew that Flare, like Chip, had brought down charges of stalking, blackmail, as well as assault and battery against Hazard before this trial had begun. Meaning that even if this jury found him not guilty, he would at least be spending some time in prison. 

As the court reconvened after three long days of deliberations, Bear’s heart was in her throat. This was it, the moment of truth. She would know in a few short minutes if she could rest easy or if she had to be worried for the rest of her life. She could feel the glare that Hazard’s mother was throwing her way, hell she had weathered insults from the wives and parents of her former Seal Team members. That would be nothing compared to their reactions if the verdict came back as guilty. “Has the jury reached a verdict?” 

“Yes your Honor.” A short Black man stood, holding an envelope in hand. It was brought up to the judge, who opened it and read it silently. 

“For the two counts of attempted murder, how do you find the defendants?” 

“We the jury, find the defendants guilty.” 

Bear nearly sunk to the floor as emotion overwhelmed her, but she forced herself to remain seated, listening intently. The rest of the charges were read off: conspiracy to commit murder, destruction of government property, domestic terrorism, and espionage.

The jury found the defendants, Hazard, Dex, Dodger, and Gallows guilty of all of them. “And lastly,” Judge Davies said, “For the crime of terrorism, how do you find the defendants?” 

The world seemed to slow to a crawl. Bear held her breath, clutching Jake and FAK’s hands tightly as the foreperson spoke. “We the jury…” Silently, Bear sent up a prayer, begging for them to be found guilty. Hoping that they would pay for what they had done, that they would rot in a cell, but unlike her, they stood no chance at freedom. It was the least they deserved. “…find the defendants guilty.” 

The room exploded in a cacophony of sound; protests from the opposite side of the courtroom, shouts of victory from the Seals, and words of congratulations from the prosecution to one another filling the room. Reporters began shouting over one another, camera shutters clicked and lights flashed, adding to the wave of noise that rolled around the room. 

Bear let herself collapse back into her seat, hands coming up to cover her face as she sobbed in relief. The fear and apprehension that had lived inside her everyday since she had confronted Hazard began to overflow as she cried. It would all be okay. How could it not be? These four men, the men who had blackmailed Flare and Chip, the men who had begun working with terrorists and who had orchestrated her capture and torture, all of them were going to spend the rest of their lives in jail. 

That thought made Bear sit up and wipe her face, sniffling as she did so. She had to show her strength and as she stood, she could feel the hands of her team on her back and shoulders, all of them showing their undeniable support for their Commander. 

Jake had gone to shake the hands of the prosecution, their conversation unintelligible over the din and Bear took a moment to let her eyes trail over him, over the sharp angles of him in his own blues. His shoulders looked broader, the cut of this jacket, while the same as hers, made what little blue he had in his eyes stand out. He looked beautiful. How she had managed to keep him in her life, she didn’t know, but ever since their reunion a year ago, Jake had practically moved in and was staying at her home. 

No one else had been made aware, as far as everyone knew, Bear and Jake were still figuring everything out. They didn’t know about him living with her, and Jake knew for a fact that Bear didn’t know about the ring currently burning a hole in his pocket. He had waited eight months after moving in to buy the ring, and it had been almost four since he walked out of the store with a little box in his pocket. He just hadn’t found the right time. 

Maybe today was the day. 

The bang of the gavel quieted the room quickly. “Order in the courtroom! This court finds the defendants, Colton ‘Hazard’ Richards, Michael ‘Dex’ Lewis, Jackson ‘Dodger’ Cartwright, and Andrew ‘Gallows’ Stevenson guilty on all charges. Due to the precedent for these crimes, Mr’s. Richards, Lewis, Cartwright, and Stevenson are sentenced to life in prison at Guantanamo Bay.”

Shrike bumped Bear’s arm. “I’ve got friends there. They’ll be looked after.” The sharp grin on her face implied anything but, but Bear couldn’t find it within her to care. Not when Hazard was finally paying for all his crimes.

She composed herself and stepped up to the prosecution’s team, next to Jake, shaking their hands. “Thank you, for everything,” she said tearfully. “Your work will not be forgotten.” 

“Neither will your testimony, Commander.” 

Jake watched Bear draw a shuddering breath as she nodded. “Thank you,” her voice was soft, barely audible over the angry shouts from the families of the now guilty. “I will be forever grateful to you all.” 

“Extend some of that to yourself,” James told her. “You were the cornerstone of the entire case, so thank you. You made sure they wouldn’t walk free, we just did the legal speak.” 

Those who heard him, laughed and Jake grinned when Bear cracked a smile. It was a bright beam of grin, one that grew wider the longer she talked with the lawyers. But good things only lasted so long because as Bear turned around, a woman came racing up to them, yelling obscenities. “You FUCKING BITCH!” 

Bear stepped back, her hands raised. “I’m sure you’re right, ma’am, but I’m going to need a little more clarification as to why I’m a bitch in this particular moment.” 

Jake had to turn away to hide his snort of laughter and it seemed to him that the Seals nearby were all in the same boat. 

“My son did nothing wrong! You villainized him for no particular reason all because you KNEW that he was better qualified for your position!” Bear regarded her calmly. She knew Hazard’s mother was convinced of her son’s innocence, hell, she had nearly been called as a character witness before the judge shut that down. “You cheated him out of a job that should have been his! You faked all of this!” 

“Mrs. Richards,” Bear said in a cool tone. She had drawn herself up, standing tall like there was a steel rod straight through her spine. This woman would never believe that her son was guilty, nothing Bear could say would convince her of that. “I am well aware of your delusion that your son is innocent, but I have to disagree,” she began in a steady voice. She had begun unbuttoning her jacket, each gold button sliding out of its place smoothly. “If your son were truly innocent and I were faking my torture, then why would I have these?” 

Bear lifted up her shirt, displaying the scars that ran across her lower stomach. Hazard’s mother gasped, cringing at the sight. But Bear wasn’t done. “You may maintain your son’s innocence all you like, but nothing will change the fact that your son is the reason I will wear these scars for the rest of my life.” She dropped her shirt, tucking it back into her pants and began rebuttoning her jacket. 

His mother opened her mouth to say something, but Jake cut her off and in a tone so cold, the temperature dropped, he spoke “Ma’am, I would recommend you retake your seat so you can say your goodbyes to your son. Otherwise, I believe that no one will blame your son’s former Commander when she smacks some sense into you.” 

The woman before Bear stammered and stuttered, unsure of how to reply. All Bear did was snap her fingers and the Seals behind her stomped a foot on the ground in unison, snapping to attention. The suddenness of the movement startled most of the courtroom and the stare leveled at Mrs. Richards had her slinking back to her spot next to her family. Bear turned back to Jake and nodded at him, the look in her eyes darkening for a completely different reason now, and Jake felt his dress pants tighten from the heat in her brown eyes. 

“Fuck,” he thought. “This is a shitty time for this.” But he couldn’t really help himself, Bear had done what she had done and she had done it proudly. Sue him. “We should leave,” he whispered, his gaze darting between the woman he loved and the media personnel filing out of the courtroom. “Don’t want to get caught in the media storm outside.” 

Bear nodded, a faint smirk rising to her lips, but she said nothing. Instead, she straightened her uniform blues, watched the prosecution file out ahead of her and then she followed immediately afterwards. The flashing cameras and shouting reporters chased her, Jake, and the lawyers out of the building, snapping pictures the whole time. 

No one said a thing. Not the prosecution lawyers, not Bear or her Seals, Jake and the Daggers remained silent as well. No one wanted to be the one quoted as saying something after this trial, the Navy had yet to comment and they all knew that whatever the organization had to say would be the end-all, be-all. No room for arguing, debating, or the like. 

She and Jake made it to his truck, Rooster and Bob cramming into the back seats. Bear felt Rooster’s hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Proud of you, Bear,” he said quietly. He had grown to see that whatever connection that existed between Jake and Bear was more than just the trauma that they shared. As far as he knew, neither one had acted on the obvious feelings that were always thick in the air whenever they were around one another. “You got them.” 

Bear nodded, placing her hand over his. “Thank you,” her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you both.” She would thank each and every one of her Seals when the time came, but right now, both Bob and Rooster had to know how much their own testimony meant to her. “I couldn’t have done it all without you.” 

A small chuckle came from Bob. “Pretty sure you could do anything you set your mind to, Bear, but you’re so welcome.” Those were the only words he said to her as he slipped out of the truck in front of his house, tapping the driver’s window in thanks. 

Rooster was next, clambering out of the cab awkwardly. “Have a good night, Bear. If you need anything, call me.” He was serious, she could see it in his eyes. “Promise me.” 

She smiled at him, nodding. “I promise that if I can’t get through to this lug, I’ll call you if I need anything.” 

“Good.” The truck door slammed shut, making both her and Jake jump, as they watched Rooster run up his front steps as the door swung open for him. A quick wave at the truck was the only indication of his goodbye before he disappeared inside. 

Jake and Bear drove home in comfortable silence, the radio softly playing some old country song that Bear didn’t recognize. The second Rooster had gone inside, Jake’s hand had moved to its usual place on her thigh, giving it a squeeze. “It’s finally over,” Bear breathed in disbelief as she walked in the front door. “Jake, honey, it’s all over.” 

Bear pulled her hair from its bun, groaning softly at the feeling when she ran her fingers through it. She hated having her hair up that tight, preferring a ponytail or a claw clip to keep it out of her face when she wasn’t in uniform. It just made sense.

Distractedly, she undid her boots, placing them in the coat closet, not paying attention to Jake behind her. 

The late afternoon shone through the windows, casting both Bear and himself in a wreath of golden sunlight. From here, Bear seemed softer, the near permanent furrow in her brow relaxing and smoothing itself away into her skin. The firmness that she carried herself with, the so-called stick up her ass, had lessened as she seemed to transform under Jake’s adoring gaze.

His heart clenched almost painfully in his chest, the guards she let down around him nearly sending him over the edge and Jake found himself struck by the startling need to keep this woman in his life. He’d found his moment, if the way his heart beat as he tracked her movements with the same intensity she had analyzed him with years ago. Everything in him was screaming at him that this was his chance to drop to one knee, to put that ring around her finger and anchor every part of him, his name, his soul, to the incredible woman that she already was.

His mama did say that when it was right, he would know. And who would Jake be if he didn’t listen to his mama? 

“We can sleep easier now, and you didn’t hear Shrike, but apparently she has a friend at Gua- Jake?” Bear cut herself off mid-ramble to find Jake on one knee before her, a small velvet box in hand. “Flyboy… what?” Tears welled in her eyes at the sight, a shaky hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock. 

“Teddy…” Jake’s voice was soft, eyes cataloging every expression that flitted over her face. “I started off my attempt at telling you I loved you by becoming a shaky, rambling mess, and it’s only fitting that I’m here now, the exact same way.” 

He let out a breathy laugh, trying to find his next words. “When we met, I was the cocky asshole that you shot down in less than 10 words and I just walked away because I had a feeling that if I didn’t, I would lose something incredible. I ended up being right. You drove me crazy over the next few weeks, constantly on my mind with your snarky comments and the way you made me work for every second of your time. I don’t think I knew I fell in love with you until I thought you were gone. I gave you my heart without knowing I had yours and I’m making this up on the spot right now so I really don’t know where I was going with this.

“I love you, my gorgeous girl and I can only hope that you love me as much as I love you otherwise this will be very awkward in a little bit.” Jake’s hands were shaking, he was sweating under Bear’s teary gaze and he could feel his cheeks flushing from his nerves. God he hoped she’d say yes. “So I guess the only thing left to do is ask. Teddy, would you do me the greatest honor and marry me?” 

The foyer was silent as Bear stared at him with wide eyes. She had been hoping for this for a while, wishing desperately that she had a way to keep Jake with her forever. Every part of her had fought for him, had fought for herself so that she could see his face again. Now though, as Jake knelt on the wooden floor of their home, Bear felt everything click into place and it felt like sunshine had been poured into her veins, warming her. 

She loved him, had loved him in silence since before they had deployed. Hell, she was pretty sure that it had taken his crash for the last threads to find their place because every action she had taken after that had been done with love for the man before her. “Jake…” she breathed, taking a cautious step towards him like she was afraid he would disappear if she moved too quickly. 

Jake held his breath, begging whoever was listening that Bear accepted his proposal. God. He had proposed and she still hadn’t said a thing. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this, was he even ready for this? He’d ruined this by asking. They hadn’t even had a full conversation about marriage yet. He fucked this up. Of course he had. 

He felt a palm press against his cheek, chasing his panicking thoughts away. “Did you hear me Flyboy?” Bear said, laughing lightly through her tears. “I said yes.” 

“You did?!” Jake couldn’t keep his outburst from slipping out, making Bear laugh. “You said yes?” His next question was shyer, almost like he couldn’t believe it. 

“Ask me again and find out.” 

Jake took a deep breath, opening the ring box as he did. “Will you marry me?” 

“Yes.” 

The universe seemed to align upon her acceptance, stars falling into place and lighting up the world around them. He fumbled with the ring, slipping onto her finger before tossing the box behind him and kissing her deeply. Bear gasped against his mouth, surprised by the sudden intensity behind it. Jake pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “Would you believe me if I said I had been planning that for weeks?” 

“Proposing, or the speech?” Bear teased softly, playing with the short hairs at the nap of his neck. 

Jake sighed, shaking his head, but even he couldn’t keep the wide smile off his face. He drew Bear’s left hand away from the back of his neck, kissing the palm gently before turning it over and running a thumb over the ring he had only just given her. The ring itself was a simple gold band adorned with round-cut diamonds arranged to look like a flower; it had screamed Bear the moment he saw it. “Either or,” came his soft reply. 

Bear tilted his chin up to look him in the eyes and was stunned into silence at the love that seemed to shine from Jake’s green eyes. “No,” she told him, running a thumb along his jaw. “But it was from you and I was always going to say yes. If you ever had plans to ask me, that is.” 

He said nothing, dipping his head back down and capturing her lips with his own. This kiss was in sharp contrast to the pure passion that had filled his earlier kiss. It was soft where the other had been fierce; Jake was content to stand there for the rest of his life, kissing the woman he loved. The woman he would marry. 

This time, Bear broke the kiss, pecking him one more time before stepping away. She held her hand up, watching the stones sparkle in the late afternoon light and it brought a smile to her lips. “You did good, Flyboy.” 

“Yeah?” Jake took a step closer, pride radiating out of him. He picked a good one and it was like his concerns had been completely wiped away. Bear had said yes, she loved the ring, and he felt unstoppable. Like he was gliding through the air in his F-18, nothing tethering him to the ground. 

Only now, he did have a tether to the ground, a reason to fight harder than he had ever fought before. She was standing in front of him, eyeing him like he was the only thing she had ever wanted. He felt the weight of that settle in his heart, but unlike the fear of her rejection, this weight was different. It made him feel like he had both protected himself while tearing himself bare and wide open. “It just seemed like something you’d wear, if you ever wore jewelry.”

Bear met his gaze and rolled her eyes, but he knew that it was done with love. It was the only way Jake could describe the way she looked at him. He’d seen it before, in the early days where Bear seemed to doubt his own love for her, but when he wasn’t looking, that’s when he’d feel it. “You’re such a goof,” she told him, moving towards the stairs. “But you’re soon-to-be Mr. Goof, so I guess I can love it like I love you.” 

Jake watched her ascend the stairs, gaping at her. “Now who’s the sap?” He yelled up the stairs as he tugged his boots off in a hurry and raced towards her bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“Still you. You’re always the sap.” 

=== 

Flare didn’t know why Shrike called her and told her to meet at her place nor did she know why they, a few of their colleagues, and the Daggers showed up outside Bear’s house 30 minutes later. 

All she knew was relief. 

Her charges against Hazard had stuck and she had been cleared of any wrongdoing given the intensity of her predicament. That, and Bear had gone to the mat for her, refusing to give up Flare in return for another person who couldn’t do her job half as well. She had been demoted however; losing her position as a Lieutenant Commander and dropped down to a Lieutenant while also dropping a few clearance levels as the Navy conducted an internal investigation. 

That was a headache for later though. 

Now she and the others stood outside Bear’s front door, Fireball having rung the bell and she waited curiously. She heard Fanboy whisper to Phoenix “Is that Jake’s truck?” 

“I think s-“ the door swung open, revealing Bear, clad only in a large, wrinkled black t-shirt. Her hair was a mess, sticking to her face, and if you looked closely, you’d find a bite mark or two along the collar of the shirt that kept sliding down. 

“Can I help you?” She asked, leaning on the doorframe, the edge of the door being held in her left hand. “You could have just texted.” 

“We did,” Fanboy replied with a shrug. “But you didn’t answer.” 

Bear narrowed her eyes. “So all 13 of you just decided to show up at my front door? At fucking 10 pm on a random Thursday?” 

Phoenix gave her a strange look. “Well initially we wanted to all get together to celebrate the win, but clearly you’re celebrating in your own way,” the smirk was audible in her tone and it matched the look that had emerged as she took in Bear’s appearance. 

“I was,” Bear replied coolly, but the blush on her face was hard to hide. “But a few people on my doorstep changed all of that real quick.” 

A voice from near the back of the group had Bear’s head snapping over. “Was there a reason you taught the pilots proper weapons techniques?” 

“Because no one ever asked. And why the hell would I teach them the wrong thing?” She just looked confused at the mere suggestion of improper weapons handling. “Can we just meet up tomorrow? I was in the mid-“ 

“What’s taking so long?” A voice yelled down the stairs, just audible for the team to hear it. 

Bear’s jaw twitched and she looked annoyed. “Give me a second!” She yelled back into the house, turning and stepping inside for half a moment, forgetting that her ring was still on her finger. 

“Bear…” Rooster began. “What’s that on your hand?” 

“What does it look like?” 

A chorus of gasps sounded and everyone immediately started yelling over one another, choosing to ignore the fact that it was 10:30 on a weeknight. “YOU’RE ENGAGED?!” 

Bear groaned, running her hand over her face. “Yes, I am. No that it’s any of your business.” 

“When were you going to tell us?” Bug gasped, reaching for her hand. “Were you just going to hide this from us?” 

“I would have kept it between me and my fiancé for as long as I could have, because this only just happened.” 

Bug blinked in surprise. “He proposed tonight?” 

Bear nodded, her eyes glancing down to her hand, smiling softly at the blue stones. “He did. We got home and he was on one knee. Caught me completely by surprise.” 

The fondness in her tone made the gathered Navy members look at her with their own grins. “So when do we meet the lucky man?” 

She went to reply but the creaking of her stairs had her pausing. “Teddy? What’s going on? Is it another chatty Amazon driver?” Jake’s voice came closer and closer, finally stopping behind Bear. His large hands came to span her hips, burying his face in her neck. The warmth from his bare chest soaked through her stolen shirt, making butterflies erupt in her stomach. “Guess not.” 

The team before them stood in complete silence. A few had had their suspicions about the two of them being together, but no one had any proof. Now though, the proof was staring them in the face. Jake had wrapped himself around Bear like he’d been doing so forever and Bear, always in charge, stoic, and firm, was bright pink as she tried to fight the urge to turn and kiss the man behind her. 

Once again, the explosion of noise hit her hard. The pilots yelling at Jake for not telling them, the Seals yelling at Bear, spouses and partners just yelling in general and it became too much very quickly. She turned into Jake, hiding her face in his shoulder, her ringed hand clutching his arm. 

He lifted his head, glancing down at Bear, who’d curled into him. “Okay guys, we can talk about this later. 

“But…” 

“No.” Jake’s voice was firm as he took in his teammates staring at him like he grew another head. “I just put the damn ring on her finger, give me at least 24 hours alone with her as my fiancee before you start hounding her.” 

His eyes met Reaper’s who gave him a nod. “You did good,” she mouthed, and if Jake got a little teary-eyed as he looked down at Bear where he was still holding her, no one would judge him. 

Strangely enough, it was Rooster that caught Jake’s eye next. There was a moment of understanding in his wingman’s eyes, a sort of approval shining bright in them. “Congrats man, happy for you.” 

Jake merely nodded, choosing to press a kiss to the top of Bear’s head rather than reply. Just standing here, Bear in his arms, watching his team catalog every gesture, every movement that he made, filled his heart with so much joy. 

If he had been asked nearly two years ago what he wanted from his life, he would have shrugged the question off, preferring a non-answer to revealing the heart that yearned for more than he had. Two years ago, his life changed when he was challenged by the woman he would soon call his wife. Two years ago, Jake knew nothing of love. Now though, he knew how bright his life could be. He knew the warmth that love could bring his spirit, and best of all, he knew that he was worth it. 

For Bear, clad in Jake’s - her fiance’s - shirt, wrapped in his arms as she stood in front of her friends, it was in such contrast to everything she had known before. Sure, back in Riyadh, she had toyed with the idea of forever. Playing with it, spinning the threads of this blossoming relationship into something more, if only to have as a thought. That ‘something more’ was this. Joy, endless support, someone who understood her, and love. Pure, simple, boundless love that was shared. 

And now as Jake shooed their friends away making promises to see them soon, Bear knew that she had found everything she had ever wanted. One random night, at a random time, had changed everything she had hoped for in her life. Tonight, standing in her home with Jake, wearing the ring he had given her when he had asked if she would spend the rest of her life with him, this was it. Her career had filled her life, now she was ready to share that life with someone who understood her pain, her sacrifice. 

“I love you,” Jake said softly, freeing her from her reverie. “More than you could ever know.” She looked up, seeing his eyes shine with unshed tears.  

“Careful Jake. I could get used to this,” Bear teased gently, swiping a tear from his cheek. “You’ll spoil me.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger for just a moment. “A wise woman once told me that I was her everything. Now that I have a future with her in the making, I finally get to make good on my promise to never let her forget how much I love her.” 

“Anyone I know?” 

“Maybe. She’s about your height, similar build, most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. She’s a firecracker, but cares so deeply for everyone around her. I watched her crawl through hell and still look like she wasn’t done fighting. And by her, I mean you, Teddy.” 

“Sap.” 

“You know you love me.” 

Bear nodded, her smile fond as Jake caught her left hand, pressed a gentle kiss to the knuckles. “I really do.” 

“No comment?” Jake asked curiously, a look of brief concern flickering over his face. “Are you okay?” 

She glanced up at him, kissing Jake sweetly. “You are the best thing that happened to me. I never saw you coming, Jake, and I am so thankful that you tried and failed to flirt with me that first day.” 

Jake’s face softened as he drew her into his arms once again. “So am I, Teddy. So am I. I have never been more thankful that I failed to win you over the first time we met.” His words were barely above a whisper, their pronunciation thick as he fought back tears. “If I’m your everything, then I don’t even know how to explain the depth of my love for you. I gave you my heart in the time it took you to glance at me with even a hint of curiosity and I will do everything in my power to make sure you are the only one keeping it safe for the rest of my life. 

“You are it for me, Teddy.” 

Sometimes two people are just destined for each other. One usually flies high, so sure of their own skill that they forget that life is waiting for them on the ground. The other stays on the ground, their head down, fighting to break free of the weight they shoulder everyday. The free-flier learns how to anchor themself and the weighed down learns how to fly among the birds, both getting what they always desired in their darkest moments. 

There is always uncertainty when the grounded learns to soar, fear of giving their heart away and of falling, yet here, in the moment, there is nothing to fear. How could there be when both swore that the other was their everything? That they would travel to the bitter end of time and back again for one another?

The next step is always scary, but for Bear and Jake, they knew that it was only the start of the next chapter of the rest of their life together. One full of peace, love, and happiness that steadied them through it all.

It wasn’t the end, merely the beginning.

===

A/N: This is it. I can't believe that this was 25 chapters worth of Bear and Jake and I am so thankful to everyone who has read and will continue to read this fic now that it's over. AGAD is my baby and my first ever completed fic, so it will always be special. You cannot possibly know how much your endless support means to me, how much of myself I poured into this series. Bear and Jake’s story is done, for now. I have plans for them in the future and I cannot wait to see you all there!

Thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky for being my biggest supporters and always being there for me and this fic. I love you all and I’m sorry for breaking your hearts on more than one occasion. For the last time, thank you for reading!

Taglist: @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @twsssmlmaa @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @killcomet @buxkybarnez @topgunruinedme @hangmanscoming @smoothdogsgirl @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

[bbyhoneybee-x]

Hi! I love your blog! I was wondering, I saw a post you did where they give their someone a black eye or something? And was wondering if you could do Michael, Vincent and Thomas? If it's too much I'm sorry! Thank you so much!

ayyy guess who's back from the dead! i would like to briefly apolgize for being in active on here for so long, i had lost insperation to write for a while but now im back to give it a second shot! hope you all like this

Michael Myers-

To say that Michael was a big man is an overstatement when he so easily towers over you without even having to try so there's gonna be times of where he might bump into you or knock you over without realizing that your there. By the time you had gotten back to your home sweet home it was late and you were just so very tired and all you wanted to do was cuddle up to Michael and go the hell to sleep, grabbing your keys you unlocked the house and made your way inside before you kicked off your shoes and called out for the masked man , " hey! im finally home" you said as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom you both share only to find Micheal laying on the bed his mask abandoned on the floor which has only been some recently that been been doing around you more often. With sleep filling your eyes you trudged on over to the bed and went to lean done to give him a small peak on his cheek. The thing you need to realize is that even though Micheal is a gigantic of a man and could very easily crush your or anyone's skull simply with his hand , without his mask on he feels very vulnerable , since he sleeps like the dead he didn't hear you come in and the gentle pressure of your lips against his cheek had him in a frenzy state where his fist had collided with your face sending you back on the floor in a ball of pain. His eyes widened as he stand up , his chest breathing frantically now , seeing you on the floor holding your face made his cold heart break softly. Without saying anything he gently picks you up in his huge arms and held you to his chest, even though he doesn't speak he tried to comfort you s best as he from what he knows [which isn't a whole lot] gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze seeing what damage he had cause. your eye had already swelled up and a dark purple color was filling the effected area quickly, sensing the panic in his eyes you gently held his hand in a way to not only comfort him but yourself as well " hey its ok mikey , i know you didn't mean to hurt me i startled you " you said as you gently squeezed his hand. Micheal shakes his head softly as he looked at your eye and a deep sigh had left his chest, he gently placed you down on the bed and gestured for you to stay there and he made his way down to the kitchen. after a few long minutes an hearing some concerning bangs downstairs he trudged his way back to you with item in his hands , an frozen bag of peas in one hand and in the other hand carried some ibuprofen and some Halloween candy. A softly smiles came across your face as he held the bag of peas to your eye trying to be careful of not wanting to cause you more pain then he already has , he placed the candy in you lap and open the bottle of the pain relief and place two in your hand before reaching over to the old wooden nightstand and handed you a tall glass of water. Micheal maybe be a stone cold killer and a nightmare to many people but for you he was soft and loving , he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for a while after the accident , his hands would tremble against yours every time you'd go to hold his hand as if he was afraid to hold you like you were made from glass but after a while he would start to com back around with the help of loving words from you and patience, soon enough he'd be back in your arms like the whole thing had never happened but the thought of it happening again is something that not only scares him but also you as well but with being able to put down rules in place and make sure that he knows that your there maybe this might just be a one time nightmare for the both of you

Vincent Sinclair -

Making wax sculptures all day was a very tiring task for Vincent , usually by the time he was almost finished it was already dark outside and way past time bedtime. Normally you wouldn't go downstairs and try to bring him up since he was just a stubborn as Bo was, he'd shoo you off back to bed and he'd soon follow up after a few minute but tonight was different as you had not seen him once except for this morning when he woken you up by giving a small kiss to your head and it was down into the basement he went. He didn't even come up for breakfast,lunch or dinner which wasn't like him at all , it had worried a big hole through your stomach as you stood by the to of the step that led down to his workshop of sorts. You'd never really gone down there unless you really needed him since in his own way that space down there was a safe space for him and you didn't want to really upset him by barging in uninvited. But you were worried so he would come to understand that hopefully you thought to yourself as you started to ascend down in the darken basement. The sounds of your shoes echoed off of the stone walls as you make your way to the opening of the basement , " Vincent?" you called out as you stood by the door with your arms wrapped around your torso in a attempt to comfort your self . Without hearing any type of response you started to advancing deeper in to the room looking around when you finally spot the tall masked man looming over one of the wax figures , the sharp blade of his knife seemingly glows in the dark . you take a few more steps forward as you called his name out once more with no avail , this isn't like him at all . You approach him and gently places a hand on his shoulder and shook him softly " Hey vin-" your words were cut off as he spins around at a quick speed like you've seen before normally when hes trying to get his next victim , the tip of the knife had came across and gashes in to your cheek inflicting a stinging pain that cause you to cry out and fall own on to the floor. Vincent was in his own little world when he created these master pieces and normally he good about not getting to far into his head that much but today was different for him , Bo had given him a deadline to have these pieces down and out into the wax museum and hes not one to disappoint his twin brother he ended up blocking out the urges to eat and see you. His hands trembled as he drop the knife and falls down to his knees where his hand had cradled your face and his eyes widen with pure panic. He reached over to his work table and grab a rag which he held to your cheek , he might not be a man of many words but his eyes do all the speaking for him , he was sorry for hurting you accidentally. You gently placed your hand on top of his in comfort " You didn't mean to do it Vincent it's ok" you said as he began on cleaning up the gash and he could't help but be mad at himself for doing it but your words always had a calming effect on him. Soon the gash was cleaned and bandage up , he sat on the floor with you in his lap and you holding hi hands. In your eyes he's not a monster and you helped him see that from his eyes as well. Eventually you both have came up with a system to ensure that something like this wouldn't happen again , it was a simple belly attached to a string that led in to hr basement so you can ring it from upstairs and he'll know that you'd be coming down.

Thomas Hewitt-

It's hot summer days like this that makes you want nothing more then to sit in the cool shade and sip on some fresh , ice cold lemonade with your beloved Thomas , but unfortunately today is a day where hoyt had thrown Thomas in to some hard bloody work. Normally he'd do it would out any complaint but the heat was starting to effect him, making him more irritable then he usually is. You stood in the kitchen softly sipping on the refreshing beverage as you heard Thomas grunt loudly in pain and slammed something hard down that caused the floorboards to shake from the forced behind it. Your heart breaks for him , he every rarely get anytime to himself or anytime with you since Hoyt made it his job to get his hands bloody and proved for the family , so you had made the choice to bring him a nice cool glass of lemonade in hope that it could help him feel better. "Poor thing must be suffering down there in the hot basement " you said to yourself as you carefully made your way down the old creaky stairs leading to the basement with the drink in on hand. Thomas came into your eyesight , he was hunch over the wooden work table , his shoulders moving up and down as he breathe heavily, one hand clutching onto the other seemingly had hurt it when he was working. Your eyes had widened a bit as you rushed over to him after setting the glass down on a different spot " Tommy? are you ok darling?" you said as you came over to his side trying to see what had happend to his hand , he grunts angrily and tuned his back to face you " Thomas let me see please" you said softly as your hand reached out to grab his arm but it didn't go to plan. The moment he felt the hand on his elbow his top had blew a fuse, reacting on pure instinct, he shoved you away from him but there are times of where he didn't know his own strength.Your head slammed into the wooden table behind you , black spot had filled your vision as Thomas had seen what his anger had done to his love of his life, any anger that he had immediately went away see you on the floor holding your head in pain. Thomas dropped to his knees and held your head in his giant hands looking closely to see if there was any blood coming out of it , he pulled your hand away from it to see some blood on it and he swear he could feel his heart shatter into million pieces , he picked you up in his arms and ran up stair to the room the both of you shared and lays you on the bed before he grab a basin ad filled it with clean water and grab some rags to help clean the wound. the time he took cleaning your head wound was spent in silence but you could hear his soft sniffles and you knew he didn't mean to ever hurt you on purpose. Once he was done wrapping up your head you turn to face him , he sat on his knee looking down at his hands , gently you sit up and wrap your arms around his neck bringing his head in to your lap gently hushing as he made soft sounds in protest afraid he was gonna hurt you again," Tommy is ok im gonna be fine i promise you said softly making his head rise up to look at you with silent tears in his eyes as his hands gently came up and brushed against your head , you gently grabs his hands and held them to your chest right over your heart, " im still here Thomas , i ain't going no where i know you didn't mean to hurt me me at all it was just an accident'' you said softly with a smile. Thomas leans his head on your chest and held on to you as if your gonna slip through his hands like sand. It'll take Thomas sometime to feel like his hands aren't gonna hurt you every-time he touches you, you can see the bit of fear in his eyes , but each time you reassure him that hes not a monster that he sees himself as, an that you love him regardless of anything that's happened. soon enough your Thomas start to come back around , now his hands are constantly on you all the time , but hey its not like either of ya'll have any complains at all.

{ i hope you guys really enjoyed this! after not writing for a while it defently feels really good to be back! hopefully this is good if not better then my past works but let me know what you guys think!)

[dykeomania]

ellie williams likes someone who matches her energy.

18+. a run-on-sentence-ramble. minors, cis men, and ageless blogs -- please dni.

like, if she goes hard, you go harder, and now? you're just trying to see who folds first. she likes getting into playful arguments that she knows she will never win. likes entertaining them because she likes pissing you off -- likes backing you into a corner with her words and her frame and seeing what you'll do, because, okay, so then, what's up? ellie williams likes to get close to your face and go hm? and watch you get close enough for her to take in the potion of mint on your breath and fragrance on your neck, and listen to you go mm. with those low, confident eyes and that demure, gloss-coated smirk. she likes to pretend that you don't make her knees buckle. that when her hand slips beneath the waistband of her briefs late at night, she doesn't recall looks like those -- those kinds that make her head spin, that make her body beg to the tips of her fingers (cont).

she likes to act like the grip she's developing on your hip is completely exemplary, but only is emblematic of "keeping it cool" -- keeping it lowkey. when she kisses you and she latches onto your lower lip, sucking slowly with blatant intention, you forget yourself. the kiss is tender enough to cause you to weave your fingers into the hair on the back of her head, and pull. causes your body curve into hers, beckoned by the will of her forefingers curling into the fabric of your skirt and gripping. she likes to act like the way you make her bend for you doesn't make her wanna find some way to get you closer (she knows how; she also knows a place, all you've gotta do is say when). she likes it when things slow down and your energies no longer clash, but collide; like tides buckling underneath each other, combining and rolling under one another so effortlessly, and yet managing to cause something so seismic. like managing to shift the energy of the entire party -- or maybe you're just delusional. but if the world exists, then it's to sink in energy level to make room for the two of you. it shifts from hues of bright pink and roaring reds to mellow blues, and lulling purples.

she likes it when your bodies stop fighting a war and start having a conversation. that back and forth, push and pull banter consisting of bites, rolls, and enough tongue to make whatever experience that existed before the two of you feel like the fragments of a half-forgotten dream. the question of what are you trying to do? is unspoken and yet hangs off your tastebuds in saccharine strands. ellie laps them up, eager as ever, eager as always, and honest to god, sometimes ellie forgets. she's reminded that this? is irreplaceable. that unbeatable, slow song kind of chemistry. that energy between the two of you that leads you to roll wherever ellie rocks, and the best thing is, it's always been that way. and for as long as you keep demonstrating it by continuing to move your hips into hers just like that, trust me when i tell you that ellie is, and will forever be, down for whatever.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

I don't know if the soulmate event is still open (depends on your time zone, I guess), but if it's still open: purple (inumaki toge) with lilac (angst to fluff) #6 (flowers on your body where your soulmate got injured)

If you've already closed your requests, I'm sorry for bothering you! I just really like this event and am looking forward to reading all the stories (again 🙊)

Hi anon! My event was still open, so don't worry about it. I'm glad that you enjoyed the event so much. Thank you for giving my man inumaki some love (secretly, he's my fav)

Also, sorry this took so long. I was going through some serious creativity drought...

Hold You (Inumaki x Reader)

Word Count: 1.7k

CW: Blood, injury, panic attack, reader has female pronouns, angst to fluff, not proof read (as always)

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

The first thing Inumaki does upon awakening is reach for you. Realizing your side of his bed was cold, he momentarily panicked before remembering that you had a mission early this morning.

With a little grumble and a pout, he snuggled further down into his blankets intending to sleep a little more before he had to get up.

But without you, staying in bed was no fun, so with reluctance he hauled himself out of bed and headed downstairs to find something to eat.

Mmm...maybe he could have his leftover onigiri from last night. He could probably heat up some miso soup too...and he was going to kill you.

Heartbroken, he gazed into the empty spot in the fridge that once housed his onigiri.

Instead, there was a pale pink post-it with the word "sorry" written on it in your handwriting.

After mourning the loss of his precious onigiri, he forlornly set about making himself a cup of tea.

As he reached to grab the tea bags from the top shelf he heard someone entering the kitchen. Grabbing the tea and turning, he realized that it was Maki.

"Konbu-"

He began to greet her but paused as he realized she was staring intently at the spot just above his waistband where a sliver of his skin had been exposed while he was reaching for the tea.

"Takana?"

He asked, worried and a little perplexed.

"Inumaki..."

"Tuna mayo?"

He asked, instantly on edge. It was rare for Maki to show this much concern.

Suddenly she surged at him and was tugging at his shirt with barely contained panic shining in her eyes.

"Your shirt. Take it off. You have to take it off. I need to see."

"Tu-"

"NOW!"

She bellowed, frantically lifting the hem when he didn't instantly move.

Staring at the giant petals slashed across his torso in vicious crimson swathes, the two froze.

"Your soulmate trait makes any injury she has appear on your body as flowers and vice versa, right?"

Exhaling shakily, she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

There was no response. She didn't need one either way - she was just confirming, but his lack of reaction concerned her.

"Inumaki-"

Taking a good look at his face, she realized he was frozen, pupils blown out as he quivered staring at the marks on his midriff.

"Hey-"

But he was gone. Tearing down the hall he headed towards Gojo's room. Gojo. He would be able to help. He would have to trust Maki to go get Shoko.

Slamming his shoulder into the wall as he made a sharp turn into the next corridor, he stumbled but kept going.

What if he was too late? God, he never should've let you go on this mission alone. You're a strong sorcerer, he knows that. Maybe even stronger than him. But if he isn't able to protect you, how can he call himself worthy of being your boyfriend. Of being your soulmate.

Tears pricked the back of his eyes as he burst into Gojo's room.

Looking up from his kikufuku, Gojo was greeted with one of his students tearing off his shirt.

"Whoa-whoa hold on now, it's a little early to be getting this frisky-"

He stopped seeing the flowers etched into Inumaki's skin.

In near hysterics, Inumaki pointed at his chest.

"Sujiko...Takana...She-"

He managed to get out between pants.

"Please."

Luckily, Gojo understood what he was trying to say. He had understood in sickening clarity the second he had seen the marks.

Something was about to steal the bright future of not just one, but two of his students. And he'd be damned if he let that happen.

Striding over and placing a hand on Inumaki's shoulder he spoke.

"It's going to be okay. We're going to go get her."

And with that, he teleported them off.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Pain. Mind-numbing, nauseating pain. Pain was all you knew.

Crumpled against a wall on your back, you could vaguely hear Ichiji's worried voice calling your name as he searched for you.

For a split second, you registered a muted panic, unsure if your final attack had been enough to take out the special-grade, but then you realized that Ichiji wouldn't even be in here if the curse was still alive, because the veil would still be up.

Relief slowly drifted in among the fog clouding your brain. At least you got your job done.

As your blood leaked out and stained the concrete beneath you your hand slowly started slipping off the three violent gashes that had been clawed across your torso.

Clinging desperately to consciousness you fought to stay awake as your vision fuzzed with black.

Toge. You had to think of Toge. You couldn't do this to him. You had to hold on for him.

Your hand slid fully off your upper body and fell with a quiet splash into the puddle of blood surrounding you.

I'm so sorry Toge..."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Appearing next to the black car that had transported you and Ichiji to the scene, Gojo and Inumaki instantly got to work searching for you. Following the sound of Ichiji's voice, they were eventually led to a frantic Ichiji calling your name as he stumbled across rubble. When he looked over and noticed the two of them he frantically waved them over.

"Thank god you're here!"

He exclaimed as he made his way to meet them.

"I don't know what happened! The veil went down so I assumed the curse was exorcized but when she didn't appear, I became worried and went to search for her. I still haven't found her though and I'm beginning to be quite concerned...."

"She'll be fine."

Gojo said confidently, waving away Ichiji's concerns.

"We'll find her, right Inumaki?"

Trying his best to ease the tightness in his chest and breathe, Inumaki nodded.

"Shake."

Splitting up they began searching, calling out your name. It would've been easier to track your cursed energy, but it appeared you'd fallen unconscious, so that was out of the question.

Minutes passed, and with each one Inumaki found it harder and harder to breathe. He began to fear the worst, and images of your beautiful body mangled and broken flashed in his mind's eye.

Finally he found you. But instead of feeling better, the sight he was greeted with only kicked his oncoming panic attack up a couple notches.

Blood. There was so much blood. Crashing to his knees, he attempted to put pressure on the gashes clawed across your torso. Wait, when did he even get to your side? Dimly he heard a high pitched keening sound, not unlike a dying animal.

It wasn't until hands pulled him off you that he realized that the sound was coming from him. Or that blood was dripping from his mouth because he had been using his cursed speech to attempt to command you to wake up, to stay with him.

He cried out and tried to throw himself back over you. They couldn't touch you! Didn't they understand? You were hurt! But the same hands from before gripped his shoulders and held him back as Gojo teleported you off to Shoko.

"She'll be okay son."

Nanami murmured into his ear. When had he gotten here?

"She'll be okay, just calm down. Take a breath."

Listlessly staring at the puddle of blood that you had been lying in, he allowed Nanami to gently pull him away and guide him back to the car waiting to drive them back to the campus.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

When they arrived back on campus Inumaki was out of the car and tearing off towards the infirmary before it had even fully stopped.

Bursting into the room, the door hit the wall with a bang, causing everyone in it to look up.

“Toge?”

You asked, sitting up a little straighter as Shoko finished up examining you.

Frozen in the doorway, he stared at you, hesitant to believe that you were okay after witnessing the gory aftermath of your injuries.

Lowering the t-shirt you had been changed into, Shoko patted your shoulder and advised you to take it easy before standing.

“C’mon Gojo. Get out of here. Give the two some privacy.”

Shoko herded Gojo out, shutting the door behind them. Then the two of you were alone in the quiet room.

The quiet sound of you sniffling filled the room.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

You cried quietly as you wiped your tears with the palms of your hands.

“I’m so sorry I worried you because I wasn’t strong enough. I was so scared. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was never going to see you again…”

A choked sound escaped Inumaki as he took a hesitant step forwards. You looked up at him, your tear-filled eyes making his own fill.

“Can you come here and hold me?”

You asked, extending your arms.

And that was all you needed to say. He barreled into you, mindful of your injuries as he nuzzled his face into the crook of neck and relished in the feeling of having you in his arms again.

“Sorry.”

He sobbed, pressing kisses to your pulse point.

“Sorry.”

He repeated, unable to say anything else for fear of hurting you with his cursed speech.

“No, why are you sorry?”

Your tears trailed down your face, dripping off your chin and mixing with his before staining your shirt.

“You didn’t do anything-”

I couldn’t protect you.

He traced the words into the palm of your hand. 

“Of course you couldn’t!”

You exclaimed, thumping him lightly on the back.

“You weren’t even on the mission with me, dummy! How could you have? Plus, it’s not your responsibility to protect me. That’s not your job as my boyfriend. All I ever asked of you is to hold me like you are now, and to love me.”

You buried your face in his hair, inhaling deeply.

“Stop blaming yourself. Just stay with me like this for a while, okay?”

Nodding, he snuggled further against you.

That’s right. Everything was okay. You were okay. Everything would always be okay.

As long as you were holding him.

And he was holding you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[fifi-afterhours]

Telephones and Their Possible Connection with the Audience

So some time ago l was scrolling through @/partycoffin’s blog as one does when you fall into the fandom hole of welcome home, and I wanted to do a little speculation post about telephones and this picture:

Or more specifically, Eddie's and Howdy's ones, and their different rotary dialers.

[Supposed tiny post turned into long theory ramble below cut!]

(I have checked that this was made on 4 December, 2022, so I think this could be speculated on!)

As we can see, not only are the phone types different (with theirs presumably being portable), the numbers used for dialing are replaced with colours instead. Now, a simple explanation could be made that the colours simply replace the numbers, but that's not the case:

(I know they're not buttons, but let's just use that as a placeholder name for now-)

Neither of them seems to match with the 10 buttons needed for a a normal rotary dial, so the only explanation I could think of is that each colour corresponds with a neighbor.

@softestvine made a post about this before, and if you take a look at the guestbook signatures, the missing purple button on Eddie's phone makes sense since purple should represent him, and therefore his phone number in a sense.

The real question is why would Howdy have his own phone number. Maybe an extra set of hands means he owns two phones? Or maybe it's normal to have your own contacts to ring yourself up, and Eddie is actually the odd one out? For that I'm not sure.

Continuing on, there's also the curious addition of a black button, which doesn't seem to connect to any neighbor at all. My first thought was that it could be related to Home, but considering that it communicates through onomatopoeia that even Wally couldn't understand sometimes, I feel like it's doubtful that it's meant to be for Home. (though I'm not saying that it's impossible, just unlikely for now).

Which leads to the second theory: it's to represent us, the audience, the viewers of the show. My speculation is that there was a segment on the show that would involve the characters calling or receiving a phone call from a fan of the show, similar to how irl children shows that includes audience participation will show off fanworks in their episodes. (the closest example I could think of is Blue's Clues right now since my sister used to watch that).

Admittedly this feels like a stretch, but phones seem to be important to the show in some manner. In some old posts, we have audio of what prank calls to some of the characters are like, and although they're definitely not relevant to the work now, it's interesting to note that the concept of a way to communicate with the puppets exists.

Another thing is that on one of the secret pages of the website, you're sent to this page:

An error page that shows altered text and a phone gif instead of the one with Home. Perhaps I am looking too much into this, but compared to the other hidden links, why would this one take us to an error page first, albeit a different one?

Some people have pointed it out here that if you inspect the phone gif, it says "It's for you". When you click on it, you're taken to a page called 'duet' where Wally is singing to Home.

Don't you think it's coincidental that the only page with an audio file was only found through a phone? And why is the page called 'duet' when Home only responds after Wally finished his song? That's because the duet isn't sung by Wally and Home, it's supposed to be sung by Wally and you. By clicking on the phone, you're answering Wally's call, hence the "It's for you" file name.

My conclusion is that the phones were used to talk to the audience back when the show is running, and now Wally is using them to try to reach out to us.