#are you really telling me they built all that tension for a FRIENDSHIP

[obliviouskara]

nothing infuriates me more than knowing that a ship that i have fallen miserably head over heels in love with (like to the point of probably botherline obsession) is not even freaking canon but also so badly written that watching them canon causes you nothing but full on rage what do you mean an entire community can see their chemistry all except the writers/producers of the show?? are you fucking kidding me

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: jeon wonwoo

best friends to lovers

'and i was so scared to destroy it that i forgot that destruction leaves the door for something new to be built'

'okay, let's go over the list again. phone chargers and headphones?'

wonwoo tries and fails to act annoyed; he's mostly endlessly endeared by your love for all kind of check lists and your diligence in going over them at least three times. he doesn't even try to point out that bags were packed under your supervision yesterday - he's not strong enough to withstand your pouty face and he also knows how restless you get if you don't check everything again. so, he bites inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smiling like a fool and declares: 'chargers and headphones are here. what's next?'

wonwoo indulges you for the next twenty minutes, checks every single item from your list and doesn't look even a tiny bit mad when you two finish. his patience towards you has no limits, just like his desire to soothe your worries and help you feel peaceful. he zips both bags, when you sigh in relief and plop right next to him on the ground, leaning on his shoulder casually. 'thanks, woo. i know it must've been annoying, but i was anxious.'

careful not to disturb you, wonwoo moves closer to the wall to lean on it. 'it's nothing. if to ease your anxiety i have to pack and repack these bags ten times, i'd do it, you know it.'

there's a beat of silence and then your hand wraps lightly around his. 'yeah, i know.'

and you do know. it's probably one the most amazing feelings in the world - to be this assured in another person. you cannot bet on yourself, but you can bet on wonwoo when it comes to being your best friend. he's your pillar of strength, your constant support, your closest person. you never thought it's possible to be this sure in someone and yet. you never question wonwoo because he never gave you reasons to; his loyalty to you is like a pledge he wears on his skin proudly, shows it off to everyone if they ask. earth is round, sky is blue and jeon wonwoo is always there for you. it could've been so, so good if only it didn't make you want to cry.

'hey, don't fall asleep on me. you know your neck will hurt and i didn't pack that gel which always helps ease up the stiffness,' he says gently.

wonwoo is always gentle. it's not really in his nature, but by default it's how he is with you. how can he not be? you're a flower in his eyes and only gentleness and care will help you flourish (which is the only thing he wants for you). his fingers itch with desire to hold you gently as well, to cradle you in his arms and keep you safe and loved but he ignores it. wonwoo is really good at ignoring a lot of his feelings towards you, because flowers can only take gentleness and there's nothing gentle in his feelings. no, his feelings for you are close to forces of the nature in their strengths: unstoppable, uncontrollable, all-consuming. wonwoo is so gentle with you, how can he let you know that his chest is doing a god's work every time, not letting his feelings slip? they can come out and envelop you whole, leave nothing to anyone else and he.. is not like that. can't be like that with you.

'you also started getting neck pains?' you ask, lifting your head from his shoulder. you look worried, searching for something on his face.

'no, i usually carry that gel for you.' wonwoo answers easily, shrugging it off. 'just like other bunch of stuff.'

silence settles again. lately, silence started to settle much more often between you two and while usually it's a good companion, this specific kind of silence hangs heavy. this silence is filled with unspoken words and hesitance, it's charged with tension which none of you dare to break. everything always comes to its' boiling point and you can't help but think that your friendship with wonwoo is hanging by a thread and you can't tell which way it should fall: to the left, where everything will be left exactly as it is right now or to the right, where you'll be in the new territory of confessed feelings? and wonwoo feels it too, can barely sleep this last month due to this heaviness in his heart, which refuses to carry the weight of unspoken love anymore. it's funny how he never really looked for love; when you came, he also didn't look for it. but then time passed and he realized that he's not looking for love anymore not because he's not interested, but because he found it long time ago.

'will we...' you start, taking a deep breath. god, if there's anyone for who you are ready to fall, it's wonwoo. '...talk about it? about this elephant in the room?'

wonwoo's breath hitches. seconds tick away and they last for eternity, making you think that time stopped at some moment. overthinking spiral starts to draw you in, when he voices out: 'which elephant in the room? the one about me being in love with you for longer than i can remember or the one where you never gave back any of my hoodies?'

wonwoo watches as your eyes widen and how your mouth opens and then closes in shock. he watches how you collect yourself, internally applauds himself for not freaking out and keeping that beast called love inside of his chest for now.

'i- the first one.' you mutter, shaking a little. 'definitely the first one and you can also add info on why you never said anything.'

will you understand? will you get that he was actually trying to shelter you from his selfish side? will you accept that his love is too big, too real, too much for someone as delicate as you? that he held himself back for your own sake? his hesitance spurs you to take his hand in his and squeeze it gently. 'tell me. i will understand. you are my best friend, woo. first and foremost - you are my best friend.'

'and then?' he grunts, barely forcing his tongue to move.

you smile and hope grows in his chest. 'and then my boyfriend. my one and only. do you like the sound of that?'

does he like it? god, do you even know what you do to him? beast inside doesn't roar to his surprise; no, it curls up in satisfaction instead, finally calming down. oh. oh. 'i like the sound of that very much,' he musters the courage to say.

maybe he was wrong about his beast all this time. maybe his feelings never meant harm, maybe they can not only destroy, but plant something else instead. you lean in and oh, wonwoo gets it. his feelings were meant to plant more flowers, pretty flowers. just like you.

a/n: if you think that this somewhere along the way turned into something else then you'd be right, but i couldn't stop and i'm posting this anyway. let me know what you think! - nini

my other works are here

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

2 | draws me so close

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, sexual tension, fluff, slight dirty talk, teeny tiny tinge of smut, flirting, suggestiveness, etc.

❧ Word Count | 6.7k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Love truly is something beautiful, isn’t it? Especially the process of falling in love. It’s different for each person, the falling process. Some people stumble before they fall, some trip, and some simply leap into that fall.

But you, well, you do a bit of it all, really. You believe your first step toward falling in love was a trip— your heartbeat beginning to race, ears perking up whenever a certain someone opens his mouth, and finding yourself enamored by every second spent with the man…

It was a gradual thing. So much so that instead of love, it may have been a beautiful blend of lust and love in the beginning. And lusting for Gojo Satoru is something only a select few can say they’ve had the pleasure of doing, you being the newest to experience such.

From the day you met him, the friendship kinda just took off. That same day, you went home smiling from ear to ear all because you managed to get his number. Sure, you lived with your number one hater but, you’d deal with Choso and his attitude much later. All that occupied your brain when you got home was the oh-so-beautiful Gojo Satoru whose smile and flirtatious manner were etched into your brain after merely one day.

He had such a pretty smile, with cute dimples present on each side of his face, the most enamoring set of blue eyes-, fuck you could gush about his looks all damn day. Which is exactly why when you got to your apartment, you were quick to text him. Never would you let his number go to waste in your phone but it was truly surprising to receive a text back minutes later.

You’re not sure what you were expecting but it was pleasant to get a text back so quickly. From there, the conversation was just as charismatic and seamless as it was in person. Gojo was kinda an oddball but you think you liked that about him. Instead of constant texts asking what you were doing, he’d just tell you the most random things or ask bizarre questions.

This is what led to text after text, day after day, week after week. And in the midst of such activities, some texts became calls and some calls became Facetimes and before you knew it, you and Gojo were chatting it up every day. He’d have you laughing wee hours into the night, smiling seconds after you wake up to yet another spontaneous text, and giddy to start your day by going to that lovely cafe he works in.

These things became routine and you found yourself kicking off your senior year of university happily. Said routine continued unchangingly for about a month or so— cute moments of flirting, occasional hangouts, and these odd moments of longing looks shared that make both of your hearts skip a beat-

Okay, so that last bit is rather confusing for you. Often would you or Gojo find yourselves saying nothing and yet everything through your gazes alone. Despite how often it occurred, nothing but desirable glances took place. At least, until you found yourself knowing Gojo for a solid month and something had simply… changed.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

On a rather windy Friday morning, you were on your way to that cute lil’ cafe, as usual, and hadn’t expected anything to be different today in comparison to the days prior.

Based on the little routine you’ve built up, typically, when you enter the cafe, you’re met with Gojo who surprises you with a different drink for the day (though, it’s always sweet for some reason). To your surprise, today was a bit different as you were met with one of his other coworkers when you walked in— Shoko Ieiri.

Long chestnut brown hair, similarly shaded yet tired eyes meeting yours, and a slight smile etched onto her face at the sight of you, you’d met her maybe once or twice before but you weren’t expecting to see her today.

“Heyy cutie,” She greets simply as you approach the counter. Ah, her voice is so sweet while she’s talking to you— you’re convinced it’s a requirement to be attractive in order to work at this cafe because so far everyone you’ve met is ridiculously hot.

You grace her with a smile, “Morning Shoko, you seem happier than normal…”

“I got out of workin’ late today by swapping shifts with Geto sooo, yeah, I guess you could say I’m happier than normal,” She explains, shrugging casually before tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at you, “Lemme guess, you’re here for Gojo?”

“I-, I mean… He texted me this morning telling me to come here earlier than normal so… yeah, actually,” You give her a sheepish little grin, glancing off to the side at how quickly she was able to see through you.

Nodding, Shoko gestures her head toward the back, “He’s in the storage room I think.”

Your brows pinch together, “…Am I allowed back there?”

“Girl, I don’t get paid enough to care,” She teases, chuckling a bit, “I’m sure you’ll be fine, go on.”

At that, you nod and then make your way around the counter. It was a bit weird for you to head further into the cafe like this, even though no one else aside from Shoko and Gojo was there. So as you passed Shoko and made your way to the back, you glanced at the woman once more with a look of worry.

To which she sent you a smile and gestured her hand for you to keep going. Then, you sighed and kept walking back, soon making a left that led to a small hallway with a few different rooms. One was a restroom, another a breakroom, and the last was the storage room.

You carefully approached the door to the storage room, which was cracked open, and pushed past it to enter. Your eyes were quickly met with Gojo’s back profile, his hands busy with something in front of himself and seeming as though he were looking through some kind of box.

He must’ve heard your footsteps because his voice is hitting your ears before you even get the chance to say anything, “Shoko I swear I was comin’ back out on just a second, I still can’t find my-,” He’s cut off by a pair of hands cupping his eyes from behind, to which Gojo freezes. “…You’re not Shoko, are you?”

You snort, “That’s such a cliche thing to say, oh my god…” Still keeping your hands over his eyes, you tilt your head and move to peak over his shoulder, “But since we’re bein’ cliche today, guess who?”

Gojo’s lips immediately curl into a smile, “Guess who, huh?”

“Mhmm,” You hum.

“Could you be that one cute girl who’s been comin’ in every day at around 8:13 am, perchance?” Gojo takes his ‘wild’ guess, his shoulders relaxing as the seconds of you being with him pass.

You giggle, “Did you really just say perchance?”

“I did,” Gojo utters suavely, “So, is my guess correct or should I be feeling uncomfortable that some random chick snuck back here and put her hands on me…?”

Giggle turning into a full-on laugh, you lift your hands off of his eyes and he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Your guess is correct, don’t worry,” You tell him as his gaze finally lands on you.

You think you can hear the faint thump in your heart as his face comes surprisingly close to yours due to the simple glance over his shoulder that you’d been peeking over.

Glancing right down at your lips for a split second, and then looking into your eyes, Gojo lets out a soft sigh, “Hi sweetheart.”

You gush, “Hi Satoru.”

He smelled maddeningly good, the space between you and him small and the eye contact almost intimate. Little did you know, Gojo was thinking the same thing as you— loving every second he got to inhale your sweet perfume.

“You look pretty today,” He suddenly compliments, voice lowering.

You quiet your voice to mimic his, “As do you.”

“Yeah?” Gojo starts lifting his hands out of the box he’d been digging in and then he turns his body to face you, tilting his head, “Y’think I’m pretty now?”

“I’ve always thought you were pretty,” You admit, shrugging your shoulders a bit.

The male pauses, eyes steady yet shameless to trail down your figure, “What’s so pretty about me, hm?” Gojo pries, leaning forward a little.

Playfully, you lift a hand to his chest to keep him from getting too close to you, “How about I answer that after you tell me why you wanted me to come here so early?” You divert as you raise a curious brow.

“Oh, no reason in particular, jus’ wanted to see you before I actually start working,” He explains while he glances down at your hand on his chest.

“Why?” You question further, eyes wide and as curious as ever.

Gojo gulps and suddenly avoids your gaze, something he’s only done a select number of times. From what you’ve picked up, it’s whenever you fluster him. “I can’t just want to see you?” He murmurs.

The hand on his chest shifts and you move to drag your finger against him, stepping forward ever so slightly, “Satoru… what’re you not telling me, hm?”

Your fingernail trails back up and stops where his heart is. You swear you feel it beating a million beats a minute and his breath hitches quietly. Gojo swallows thickly before moving his eyes to you again, “Uhm, well…” And he’s lost in your gaze all over again, especially as you tilt your head and bat your lashes at him. Brows tense, “There’s this-,” He clears his throat and shakes his head to snap out of his trance, “There’s this thing.”

“What thing?” You hum.

His voice gets lower, “This thing I wanted to… invite you to,” Gojo slowly gets out.

At that, both your eyes and your facial expression light up, “Really? What’s the ‘thing’ and when is it?”

He lets out a breath of air, seeming to have gotten something off of his chest with that, “You seem more excited about this than I thought you’d be…”

“I’m always excited when you invite me out somewhere,” You say with a slight laugh.

“Yeah but, it’s not… it’s not a casual hangout like we normally do,” Gojo sighs, moving to slip his hands into his pockets.

“Sooo…” You lean in, “What is it then?”

Gojo gulps yet again, “I-It’s this yearly thing my family does. Normally I take Suguru with me but last year my parents got on my ass about not bringing a date so…”

“Geto can’t be your date?”

“I-,” Gojo finally seems to lighten up, chuckling at your comment, “No, Suguru cannot be my date. I don’t want to take him as my date.”

You move to cross your arms, tilting your head as you stare at the man, “So then, you’re asking me out right now?”

“N-No,” He stammers, eyes widening at you for a split second before he watches the way your face twists into confusion.

“No?” You echo, raising a brow.

Gojo clears his throat and lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “Yes but no.”

“So what is this then, Satoru?” A slight smile starts to draw across your face as you notice how nervous he is about this— it’s almost cute, “Are you askin’ me out on a date or not-“

“I’m asking you to come as my date,” He tries his best to clarify but you’re still left confused.

You blink, “What’s the difference?”

Gojo takes a deep breath, “If I were to take you out it’d be a lot different than me inviting you to some stupid gala my prestigious ass family-“

“Did you just say gala??” Your head cocks back a little and your lashes bat excessively, shocked by what just came out of his mouth.

The man gulps and his gaze shies to the side, “…I did.”

You step forward a little and lean closer in an attempt to get him to look at you again, “Your family’s hosting a gala and you’re inviting me as your date??”

Gojo quickly shifts his eyes onto you again, taking note of your closeness and how brightly your eyes are gleaming, “Yeah?” He replies, furrowing his brows.

“I-,” You sigh and then smile, “Satoru why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”

“B-Because you started making it seem like I’d be taking you on a date date and that’s not what this is-“

“Lemme guess then,” Cutting him off, you’re reminded of something you’ve done before. As such, you take a wild guess as to where this is going, “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something to get your parents off your ass for a night?”

Gojo blinks, “Uhm-, well, yes, actually. That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

A sigh slips out of your mouth, “Again, why didn’t you just say that?”

He pouts and looks away, “I-I don’t know…”

“Satoru…” You utter, stepping closer yet again, there’s barely a foot of space between you and him now and you tip your torso toward him.

Gojo stares down at you, goosebumps unknowingly rising along his skin the longer he peers into those eyes of yours, “Hm?”

Almost innocently, “Do I make you nervous?” You ask, tone light and genuine. You truly weren’t trying to tease him but he may have seemed like you were anyway.

Especially with how he scoffs dramatically, “Pfft, you make me nervous?” Gojo laughs and looks away, “Y-You?” He unintentionally stutters.

You snort and go to mock him, “Y-Yeah, m-me.”

His casual expression returns and he rolls his eyes before settling them onto yours again, “You think you’re soo funny, huh?”

“A lil bit, yeah,” You reply cheekily.

Gojo mirrors your expression with a soft smile, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“So I’ve been told,” You tease, “Anywho, when uh, when’s that gala of yours?”

The question makes him tense up where he stands and he tries to casually mumble out an answer, “Tonight…”

“T-Tonight?” You gasp, eyes going wide.

Gojo nods, “Mhm…”

You groan slightly before standing up straight, moving to pinch the bridge of your nose and shutting your eyes, “Why’d you wait til’ today to invite me?”

“I was nervous,” He admits honestly, grinning at how cute you look frustrated.

The second your eyes flutter open, he wipes the smile off of his face so you don’t catch him admiring you. Then, you raise a brow at him, “I thought you said I don’t make you nervous?”

Gojo lets off a little shrug, “I lied.”

You grin, “Right, and is there like a dress code I have to follow or…?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I can buy you something to wear if you want.” He offers.

That’s oddly kind of him, “Really?” You gape.

“Yeah ‘nd if we go right after I get off today I could even get a dress tailored for you if you want,” Gojo starts to think deeper about this, clearly having not planned this out before asking you.

“But the gala is tonight… How are you gonna-”

“I have my connections,” He chirps confidently.

“Mmmh,” Your eyes narrow at him for a mere second before you nod, “Alright then.”

His face brightens up, “So, you’ll go with me?”

“As your fake girlfriend to impress your family for a night?”

“Mhm.”

You nearly say yes but then, a thought begins to itch your brain and you can’t help but scratch, “Why didn’t you just ask Shoko or something-”

“I wanted to pretend to date someone I’m at least attracted to,” Gojo says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

You giggle to yourself and your voice lowers, “Could’ve taken Geto if that was the case-”

“What? I am not-,” Gojo pauses as he notices you snickering. Then he sighs, “Listen, Suguru’s hot, sure, but I’m not interested in him in that kinda way.”

You chuckle, “Mhm, sure you aren’t-”

“I’m interested in you though.” Gojo abruptly blurts out.

Your breath and anything else you were going to say get caught right in the middle of your throat and you choke. Clearing your throat you turn your head to the side to avoid showing how much that caught you off guard. Your face feels as though it were burning and you didn’t even know what to say.

Gojo, finding such a reaction cute as hell, smiles and steps a bit closer to you, eliminating all distance between you and him, the tips of his feet touching yours. A gentle and almost hesitant hand is placed on your waist, making your entire body go rigid as his other hand goes to your chin, forcing you to face him and look him in the eye properly.

“You knew that already though,” He whispers.

It was almost as though the entire atmosphere between you and him had changed in a matter of seconds.

You gulp, “D-Did I?”

Gojo lifts a careful brow, “I talk to you every day and we flirt all the time, isn’t it obvious?”

“I mean, yeah but…” You stare back and forth between his left and right eye— fuck, that shade of blue is so mesmerizing. “You can’t just say it like that,” You murmur lightly.

He tilts his head tauntingly and it makes you nervous for some reason, “I can’t say I’m interested in you?”

Heart skipping a beat, your gaze flies to the side, “No…”

Gojo leans his head in the direction you’ve looked off to, “Why not, pretty girl?”

And it’s right then and there that all your nerves get caught up and you become a stuttering mess, “C-Cause… It’s-,” You stop yourself for a second and he’s still just watching you struggle. Then you try to meet his eyes again and speak but your voice ends up dying off again, “You’re… uhm…”

The corner of his lips twitched into a stupidly attractive smirk, “You nervous?” Gojo teases.

God, if the tone of his voice doesn’t make you want to melt away into nothingness at this very moment. All you can do is nod, “Mhm.”

“I’ve never seen you this nervous,” He comments, eyes trailing up and down your flustered expression. Gojo finds himself whispering a curse beneath his breath, “Fuck. S’kinda cute,” He teases.

You grit your teeth and swallow down your nervousness, trying your best to return to teasing him instead, “Don’t you have a job to get back to?” You utter to change the subject.

The two of you were maddingly close to one another, Gojo’s got a hand lightly on your waist, your chest is a hair away from touching his, and your faces… hell, you swear if you breathe too hard they’ll be touching.

“It can wait,” He murmurs.

You bat your eyelashes as your eyes remain elsewhere, “What for?”

Gojo whispers your name and you tense up, “Look at me,” He directs, making your heart throb. You’re slow to do so but when you do, the two of you pause and simply take in one another's closeness, “See this?” He nods his chin slightly at the little space between you and him.

You sigh, “What?”

“The tension between us,” Gojo explains, eyes lowering down to your lips, “I could never pull this kinda thing off with Shoko.”

A shy little smile spreads across your face, “Right…”

“Nor would I ever have such a strong desire to kiss her,” The man suddenly blurts out. You could tell he didn’t mean to say that out loud by the way his cheeks flushed ever so slightly and his gaze flicked up to your eyes as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

You maintain eye contact and your breathing finally seems to grow steady, “Are you saying you wanna kiss me?” Tempting, your tone was— leaving Gojo so ridiculously drawn to you.

His gaze is almost full of need, “Would you let me if I did?”

“Maybe,” You utter, tilting your head ever so slightly.

The two of you had been inching your faces closer and closer unknowingly, lips almost against one another with the way you’ve tipped your head to the side.

Gojo looks down at your mouth, “Well I do,” He breathes out, nearly forgetting to finish his statement, “Want to kiss you…” He then clears his throat, “I wanna kiss you, can I?”

Your eyes are just as low as his are, soft breaths hitting one another’s skin before you let out a hum, “Mhm.”

It’s right then that he pauses, almost as if he wasn’t sure you just answered him. In his head, surely this was a mere dream. There was no way the girl he’d met but a month ago was allowing him to kiss her. And yet, there you were, gazing just as longingly as he was, lips almost touching, hearts pounding in unison— an enigma you were, truly.

After his little moment, he finally leans in, shuts his eyes, and presses his lips against yours. The sound of you letting out a hum almost immediately makes Gojo want to swoon, another hand of his grabbing the vacant side of your waist and tugging you closer to him. 

Your chest mashes into him and your arms are quick to move, sliding up and circling around his neck. Gojo’s lips twitch as he smiles against you and you feel his arms start to wrap around your waist, holding you nice and close. His lips were soft against yours, gentle, and slow as he took his time against you.

Your first time kissing Gojo being in the storage room of a cafe was quite laughable, really. Or at least, it would’ve been if things didn’t get heated rather after a bit.

At first, Gojo would just pull away slightly so both of you could breathe, barely open his eyes, and then smile before pressing his lips into yours again. This action was repeated a few times up until you took it upon yourself to part your lips over his, tugging his lower lip into your mouth and attempt pushing your tongue in.

His brows bush together at your action before his body begins to react. Stepping forward with you, Gojo slips his tongue out only to slide past yours and slither into your mouth instead of his. You nearly smiled at how he so clearly wanted to control the kiss, his hands shifting to explore your backside.

One of his hands slid up along your spine and the other dipped down to the small of your back, all as his tongue delved deep into your mouth and you released a slight noise that made his brain turn to mush.

Gojo steps forward with you again and his hand moves to your waist for a second before he starts playing with the edge of your shirt, fingertips just barely brushing over your bare skin. Your feet shuffle back as he begins to kiss you harder, more eagerly, up until your heel hits the edge of a door, prompting both of you to break away from the kiss.

A heavy pant is shared as your lips detach and a wet smack echoes into the air. Your eyes flutter open and you find Gojo still gazing down at your lips, refusing to look away.

You swallow and take a deep breath, “Satoru, we-“

The hand that was up along your spine is removed and Gojo pushes the door behind you shut. Then, all in one motion, he’s using the hand still on your waist to shove you back up against it, your breath getting caught in your throat all over again.

Your lashes flutter once more and you’re just standing there breathless with your mouth agape. Gojo, who’s yet to say a word, is panting so hard that it seems like he’s about to lose himself just from merely kissing you.

You go to whisper to him, “Satoru.”

He just nods, “Mhm…”

“We should… probably stop,” You suggest and you don’t miss how he grips onto your waist for a moment, his eyebrows twisting upward and lip poking out slightly.

“Stop?” Gojo whispers, barely lifting his eyes, “You want me to stop?”

You stare. Then, you look away, “Not really but, we should.”

The man’s got one arm practically above your head that’s still resting against the door, his other holding onto your waist, and his body right against yours. Your hands are loosely at his shoulders and you keep looking away from him, an action that’s genuinely driving him mad.

Gojo tilts his head toward where you’re looking off to and your eyes steadily find his.

“One more,” He whispers.

You blink, “One more?”

He’s nodding all eagerly and it’s kinda cute, “Uhuh.” Then Gojo leans in again.

“Fine but,” The man’s practically got his lips against yours as you try to finish speaking and you can’t help but smile, “…Don’t forget you have a job to go do.” You remind him in a sly whisper.

Gojo scoffs, “M’busy tryin’ to do you,” He utters boldly, “The job can wait.”

And then, his lips are on yours yet again. If his bold words just now didn’t have your body hot then it was definitely the way you feel his hard chest press against yours. God, you could only imagine every cut and crease of his muscles that lay beneath that flimsy shirt and apron of his.

Gojo’s busy tonguing your throat as you fantasize about what he looks like under all those clothes until he gets touchy again. That hand of his finally slips under your shirt and you jump at the contact of his warm veiny hand sliding against your bare side.

The faintest whine escapes the back of your throat and he doesn’t miss it for even a second. Tipping his head further to the side to really press into your mouth, Gojo pulls away for a split second just to whisper, “She’s sensitive,” He teases.

You hum at that but don’t get the chance to verbally reply before his moist lips connect with yours again. Gojo may be a shy idiot at times but you forget all about that while he’s kissing you, his hand sliding to your back again, fingertips caressing your skin before he pulls your body up against his and shifts a single leg in between yours.

Oh he knew what he was doing there. The way his thigh presses against your crotch tells you everything. And he knows his little movement was successful as he feels your hips shift forward against him, yearning for friction.

Gojo pulls back a little just to suck on your lower lip, then he moves to run his teeth over the skin and tug slightly, hearing the way you whine yet again. The arm that was caging you from above slips off of the door and Gojo latches that hand to your hip, guiding you forward against his leg.

Then, it happens. It was such a small sound, such a faint movement, but there you were— letting out a not-so-silent moan of his name, “Satoru,” You call out, not sure what for at this point.

The man just groans before his lips are all over yours, this time slipping off to the side of your mouth, trailing to your jaw, and moving right under your jawline as your head tips back.

“Drivin’ me crazy,” Gojo whispers against your skin, breath warm and ticklish, “Shit.”

Hot and open-mouthed kisses are decorating your neck and both of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady before he starts sliding his leg back and forth just a little bit.

You gasp and one of your hands flies down to his wrist, as if that would stop the movement of his leg. “W-Wait-, fuck, I thought…” You trail off a bit as he shifts his thigh and it suddenly presses against your clothed cunt all too perfectly— his leg was so muscular and the sudden pressure of him pressing against you had your legs weak. “Hahh… S-Satoru, you…”

He pries away from your neck, “Hm?” Gojo hums all innocently as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Gojo lifts his face to get a good look at your expression and fuck if it didn’t take every cell in his body for his cock not to spring up at that very second. Your eyes were all low, lips parted, breathing heavy, and eyebrows twisted up slightly— you were so clearly aroused and the man found it difficult not to savor this moment.

Encouraging this expression of yours, his leg starts moving back and forth against you and he eyes the way your jaw drops further and your torso pushes up, back arching a little.

“Satoru,” Oh the way your voice was all breathy and your eyes full of pure need had his head spinning.

Gojo licks his lips, “What? Y’wanna get off on my leg or somethin’?”

You shake your head, “N-No… I want you to, hah, stop.”

In an instant, almost like a trained dog, his leg just halts. Body freezing and eyes everywhere on you, Gojo looked as though he was awaiting your next order after that.

You take a moment to catch your breath before leaning your head forward and resting against his shoulder, “This was… we uhm… we were getting too… y’know.”

“No,” Gojo taunts, “I don’t know. Why’d you want me to stop, hm? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Your eyes go wide and you lift your head immediately, “No, you did the exact opposite.”

He has this smug look on his face, “Did I?”

Blinking, your eyes narrow at him, “Yes, you-“

“So why’d you stop me then?” Gojo interrupts.

You choke before clearing your throat, “B-Because we don’t have time to… continue this.”

He scoffs, cocking a brow, “Think so?”

“I know so,” You argue.

As always, he just peers down at you for a long moment, admiring every little thing about you. Then, he shrugs, “Y’know… I could’ve made you cum in a few minutes-“

You slap your hands over his mouth on instinct and your eyes go wide, “…I don’t need you to uh, do that.”

“Why?” His voice is muffled against your palm, “I know you’re turned on.”

“That doesn’t matter,” You argue as you slowly take your hands away, “We don’t have time.”

Gojo chuckles but he’s dead serious as he speaks, “Instead of all this talkin’, I could’ve been knuckle deep inside your pussy gettin’ you off like I know you want me to-“

“Jesus, Satoru,” You breathe, turning your head away from him in pure embarrassment due to the sudden throb in between your legs his words caused.

He pauses, watching how flustered his statement just made you. Then, he smirks, “We probably had enough time for me to get my tongue on you too-“

You frown, “Satoru.”

Gojo continues anyway, “Could’ve been on my knees in between your thighs right now, sweetheart.”

“I-“

“I promise you I’m an expert with my tongue,” He cuts off, staring you down like a man starved.

Gradually bringing yourself to look at him again, you swallow, “I’m sure you are but…”

“But?” His head weighs to the side curiously.

You shrug and nod your chin toward the surrounding area, “…In a storage room, seriously? Shoko’s literally right around the corner and you have to get back to work. We can’t do this.”

“We can, you just don’t want to,” Gojo clarifies.

“Later, Satoru. We can do… this, later,” You result in saying, “A-And preferably somewhere else.”

For a second, he seems to want to plead otherwise but, you do make a good point. He doesn’t need anyone scolding him for getting distracted in the storage room. Sighing, “Promise?” Gojo asks.

You grin, “Yeah, I guess. I-,” You cut yourself off once you notice he’s moved to hold his pinky out for you. You chuckle, “Dork…”

Then, you lock your pinky with his and he flashes this giddy smile at you, dimples poking out once more. “Did you just call me a dork?” He gasps dramatically.

“I did,” You hum as the two of you start to peel off of one another.

Gojo puts on this fake pout, “S’not nice,” He mumbles.

You watch as he moves to open the storage room and smile at him, “But it’s true.”

At that, Gojo simply rolls his eyes and you exit the storage room with him following behind you. The two of you act as though nothing had really happened in there and casually go about your days afterward.

Although, mentally— both of you were gushing over what had just taken place. So much so that after you end up getting your drink of the day from Gojo and wave him and Shoko bye, he’s watching you in awe whilst you get further away from the cafe.

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Shoko blurts out suddenly, making Gojo snap out of his little reverie. 

Brows furrowing, “Did you hear her moanin’?”

Shoko scoffs, “No.”

“There’s your answer then,” Gojo utters cockily as he turns away with a smirk on his face.

Both chuckle but in Shoko’s mind, the two of you definitely did something in that storage room. She no idiot and you’re not the first girl to have been brought to the back by Gojo. Though, you are the first that’s had him smiling ear to ear like that…

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Meanwhile, you’re practically skipping as you leave the cafe, taking the same path you usually do to head toward the nearby lot.

All you can do is replay everything that just happened, how cute Gojo was, the way he kept looking at you, the way he kissed you, touched you, held you, groaned against you-

Your face is getting hot the more you think about it and before you know it, you’ve got a smile all over your face. Hell, you almost forgot he invited you as his date to some family event of his. His family must be quite rich and important for them to be hosting some gala. 

It makes you wonder whether or not you've ever heard of the Gojo family before him… Alas, with no recollection of such a name, you shrug off the thought and tell yourself you’ll learn more about them later tonight. You’re sure they’ll be just as sweet as Gojo. Maybe they’ll even-

So caught up in your thoughts, you walk right into someone, your head coming in contact with someone’s chest and feeling pain in seconds. Fuck, did you walk into a wall?

Lifting a hand to your forehead, you rub it slightly, “Sorry, didn’t mean to walk into-,” Your gaze lifts to the person and your facial expression drops, “Oh. It’s just you. Your chest is hard as hell…”

Choso bats his lashes at you in disbelief, “Thank you?”

You roll your eyes, “Not a compliment.”

He chuckles and tips his head to the side, watching you rub your skin to soothe the pain. On instinct, Choso lifts his hand, swats your fingers away, and shifts to help ease the pain himself, “Yeah it is, dumbass. Means’ goin’ to the gym has been paying off.” He argues.

You sigh and drop your hand, allowing him to massage where it hurts like it’s nothing, “Whatever-“

“Lemme guess, you jus’ came from seein’ your boyfriend?” Choso questions curiously.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You huff and his hand slides a bit to caress you, “But yes, I am coming from the cafe if that’s what you’re askin’. Where are you headed?”

“To get a coffee, duh,” Your best friend huffs. His voice completely contrasts how softly he’s touching you right now and it’s almost laughable.

You nod, “Uhuh, well, have fun.” The dismissiveness in your tone makes Choso feel weird.

After all, ever since you met Gojo, you’ve practically found yourself a new best friend. Even though you and Choso live in the same apartment, he swears he hasn’t been seeing or talking to you much within the past month and it’s odd for him to experience.

So, as you pull your head away from his hand and go to step past him, he’s blurting out, “Wait,” Without a second thought.

You pause and look at him, “Hm?”

“Uh,” Choso stares for a minute, forgetting why the hell he stopped you before he clears his throat, “You alright?”

Blinking, “Yes, why? Your chest wasn’t that hard, I just walked into you so-“

“No, I mean like, in general.” He explains, turning his body so that he’s facing you completely, “We haven’t talked much lately.”

That statement makes you freeze and you stare at your best friend with the most confused look ever. He’s not usually this concerned so, it’s almost weird to see, “I’m fine, Cho. Is everything okay with you?”

Almost like a little puppy, Choso nods his head, “Y-Yeah,” He’s quick to clear his throat and you may have imagined it but you swear the tips of his ears just went red, “Yeah, m’fine. I just uh… I dunno, miss talkin’ to my best friend, is all.”

You gasp overdramatically, “Do you??” Oh the teasing tone has him regretting what he just said in seconds, “Awww Chosoo, you miss me-“

“Don’t ruin it,” He cuts off, but you’re already moving to wrap your arms around his waist and hug him. Choso sighs and looks down at you embracing him, gulping, “Get off of me.”

You shift your head to look up at him and smile, “Hug me back first, don’t be weird. You’re the one who said you missed me-“

“I said I missed talking to you,” Choso huffs, not moving his arms in the slightest.

You frown, “Cho…”

“Stop calling me that,” He sighs, avoiding looking at your expression all of a sudden.

Rolling your eyes, you give up and start to pull away from him. Yet, your weirdo of a best friend finally moves to tug you back toward him, big arms wrapping around your head and pulling you into his chest gently. You chuckle against him and he grumbles something under his breath.

“We can talk after my class, okay?” You hum into his chest.

Choso nods, “Will you actually be home for once?”

“For a lil’ bit, yeah,” You snicker, “I actually have a lot to tell you but I’ll save it for after class, ‘kay?”

He looks down at you in his arms and you angle your head to look up at him. Choso’s expression is as unreadable as always but you’re smiling. As such, he just barely grins at you, “Alright.” He grumbles in that deep voice of his.

You beam and then pull off of him, to which he almost reluctantly lets you go. And then, his eyes drop to that drink in your hand and he nearly says something but he holds his tongue, instead moving to wave you bye whilst you turn away.

You return a wave of departure to him before walking off. Choso stands there for a while, watching you get further away from him. It was weird but, for the first time in a while, he was almost excited to talk to you later.

He wonders what it is you want to share with him, especially since you usually share everything with him but haven’t been doing so recently. Perhaps you were just too caught up with Gojo Satoru, Choso wonders to himself. At that thought, he sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets and moving to continue his walk.

All Choso can do is hope that your becoming friends with Gojo hasn’t changed anything between you and him. After all, he’s the one who’s been by your side for nearly eight years…

With that, Choso chuckles at himself. The hell is he getting all worked up for? Clearly, based on that little hug and the smiles you gave, you still see him as your best friend. He’s not being replaced.

…Right?

Or was it just that you were only happy because of something that’d happened with Gojo? Scoffing, Choso tries to clear his head a bit. The fuck has gotten into him? It’s you he’s talking about here. Again, he’s not being replaced.

Or at least he thinks he’s not…

mlist | last chapter | next chapter |

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[icarryitin]

Help Me?

spencer reid/gn!reader

i love being in this guy’s brain there is just something so Character about him🧡 and happy birthday to you anon!!🥳

series masterlist

word count: 4.5k // warnings: injury description (dislocated shoulder), mentions of injections and pills for pain relief, poor and inaccurate medical knowledge, non-sexual undressing, would you believe me if i told you the sexual tension in the second half of this was accidental? for those reasons this is 18+

summary: You get injured on a case, and Spencer gets to play nurse. It’s a special kind of torture for both of you.

“Try it, see what happens.”

You appear out of the shadows ahead of them, the gun in your hands aimed carefully at the Unsub’s back, like a goddamn guardian angel.

The guy isn’t going to give up without a fight, even with three federal agents to contend with, that much is obvious. His grip on his weapon is far shakier than any of yours, fingers twitching ever closer to the trigger. You’ve made the split second decision to launch yourself at him before he has the chance to fire off a shot.

Which means Spencer has a front row seat to the sickening thud of your side against the ground when you tackle the Unsub. He’s grateful that he and Hotch aren’t staring down the barrel of a gun anymore, but less grateful that it’s come at the price of the grimace clear on your face. You’ll be bruised for sure, going down as hard as you do.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks you as he hauls the Unsub up by his cuffed wrists. You take a moment to check yourself over, mentally inventory every joint and nerve, before you nod. Spencer holds a hand out towards you, which is taken without hesitation and you start pulling yourself up off the ground.

The crack of your shoulder as it pops out of the socket is so loud that the vibration of it tingles through your interlaced fingers and all the way up to his own.

A sharp yelp, followed by a weak whimper that makes his stomach flip, and he drops your hand like it’s scalding hot. You pull it into your chest with your good arm, palm cradling your elbow to give yourself a little support. Maybe you’d hit the ground a little harder than you meant to. It’s definitely dislocated. He can’t help but feel like it’s his fault.

Maybe that’s why he’s manoeuvring around you, where you sit pouting in a dusty heap. It’s what he tells himself anyway, as he slips large hands underneath your FBI vest – fingers pressed snugly against your ribs, separated by only a thin shirt, and he carefully helps you to your feet. The action has his face dangerously close to yours, so close that he’s terrified you’ll be able to hear how shallow his breaths are. But you seem to be far too focused on your own breathing to really register his proximity. Hotch is ahead already, Unsub in tow, but you’re the only thing Spencer is worried about right now. Someone else can collect the abandoned firearm from the ground, he has more important things to do. Like getting you into the care of a professional instead of his clumsy hands.

“Can you walk?”

A rhetorical question if he’s ever asked one. It’s your arm he’s pulled out of the socket, not a leg. You nod anyway, gently, but you don’t pull away from him. Instead your voice is soft, unsure.

“Help me?”

Of course he does, as if he’d be able to do anything else.

Does he really need to keep a hold on you, help you across the warehouse floor and out to an ambulance? Probably not. Does he do it anyway? Absolutely. You don’t seem to mind the closeness, judging by the way you lean into the solidity of him as the two of you shuffle towards the open door. He relishes in it, just a little. Because for all the camaraderie and familiarity that has built your friendship over the past few years, touches like this are so rare. Rare and usually instigated by you, when a case has hit him a little too close to home. It’s precious. To have you in his arms the way he’s wanted, wished for, literally dreamed about. There’s an irony in his earlier misplaced attempt to help you up, somewhere. Why can he only have you this close when one of you is hurting?

Raised eyebrows from the rest of the team be damned, he’ll carry you to the ambulance if he has to. He doesn’t but he’d try if you asked.

Spencer has seen all manner of terrible things. He’s seen them happen to strangers, friends, he’s been the one under the spotlight more than once. But he finds himself wholly unprepared to watch you wince as you hop up onto the back of the ambulance, legs dangling over the edge, arm still cradled protectively close to your chest. You flinch almost violently when the paramedic approaches you with outstretched hands which, in turn, only makes you hiss in pain. Your apology is small, quiet, sheepish. Everything he knows you not to be, which only makes him feel that much worse about being the reason you’re in this position in the first place. He’s not, the little logical voice in his brain tells him it was the fall you took, but he’s the one who offered to help you up. Can’t take that back.

“Do you have to?” You’re arguing with the paramedic when his brain checks back in to the conversation.

A sling has been placed by the open medical bag beside you, but it’s the object next to it that has your eyes wider than dinner plates. A needle, carefully sealed in its little package, ready and waiting to give you the pain relief that all three of you know you’re in desperate need of. There’s no way your shoulder can be reset here without it.

“You look at dead bodies all day, and you’re telling me you’re afraid of this?” The paramedic means well, he knows she does, but the grating sound of the sterile packaging being ripped open only serves to shrink you away from it even further.

“Phobias are rarely rational. In fact, the dictionary definition refers to one as being an extreme or irrational fear of, or aversion to, something. Phobias relating to medical procedures are pretty common actually.”

The barely hidden eye roll he gets from the paramedic would suggest he’s not helping the situation, but it’s the look that you give him. The one he gets across coroner slabs and conference tables and crime scenes, that tells him he is.

“I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to, considering this is kind of my fault,” Spencer holds his hand up between you, wiggling his fingers in front of a sad little smile, “But squeeze away.”

“I don’t know, I might break it.” You’re going for a light-hearted joke, but your gritted teeth pay you no favours.

“Then we’ll call it even.”

You take his hand, and he wonders if he’ll need to ask the paramedic to break out the defibrillator next – judging by the way his heart stutters in his chest.

And, to your credit, you only almost break it. The first squeeze is tight, muscles in your forearm trembling as the needle plunges deep into your shoulder. It won’t be enough to completely numb you, the paramedic confirms, but it’ll go a fair way towards dulling the pain. You should really go to a hospital, a bodge job in the back of an ambulance isn’t exactly Bureau protocol, but he knows that isn’t happening. God forbid you ever get shot, he’s sure that getting you treated properly for something like that would be more traumatic for you than any injury.

The second squeeze isn’t something he’s prepared for. You hang onto his hand as though your life depends on it once the paramedic has decided the painkillers have kicked in enough, though her fingers on your shoulder still have you tensing. She tells you to relax, uselessly. Instead, you turn your head away, bury it into Spencer’s shoulder, and dig your nails into the back of his hand. His knuckles crack under the pressure, synchronised popping absolutely miniscule compared to the thunderous pop your shoulder gives when the paramedic manipulates it back into place. Tears seep through his shirt as they dampen his shoulder, the tension in your jaw gives away the sob you’re biting back. You swallow it before you pull your face from the security of his warmth – brave face, as always – and dutifully allow the paramedic to tug the Kevlar vest over your head to make way for the sling she’s prepared.

You’re too on edge to really pay attention to the instructions she’s giving you, too preoccupied on slowing your heart rate to hear about the over the counter pain meds you should take, how long you need to keep the sling on. So, Spencer listens. He remembers, as he always does. He nods and tells her he’ll make sure you do everything by the book, because he knows you won’t be on your way to the doctor’s office in a hurry if your recovery doesn’t go to plan.

JJ popping up in your field of vision seems to lighten your mood, the stiffness falls away and you choke out a laugh alongside a sarcastic comment about heroics being above your paygrade. It’s fake, the laughter. Your spine is still rigid, smile a little too tight to be true. But nobody else seems to notice. They’re just glad you’re alright. Something about your rapid mood change scratches an itch in his brain, the smallest part of it that’s just a little smug. Because you don’t let on about your fear to the others. Just him.

Spencer piles into the back of the second SUV after you, behind Rossi and Emily, and takes it upon himself to make sure you’re strapped in. Admittedly, you could manage it yourself, but he doesn’t want you to. There are eyes on the back of his head when he leans over to carefully pull the seatbelt across you, when he makes sure to steer clear of your sling, but they’re easy to ignore when you’re watching him the way you are. Your quiet affirming hum follows the click of the seat belt plug when you meet his questioning gaze, calming the pounding in his chest and he doesn’t pull back right away. Involuntarily, his eyes drop to your lips for the barest of moments.

He could kiss you.

Right here, right now. In the back of the SUV, with your arm in a sling, and your colleagues watching on. He could do it. But he doesn’t.

He knows what he wants your first kiss to be like – a little pocket of his brain is dedicated to it, plays scenario after scenario in the moments before he settles down to sleep every night. Silly little bedtime stories.

Except they’re not silly, because somewhere along the way he stumbled out of his harmless little crush and into something much more serious. He knows what it is, he won’t put a name to it. Instead, he daydreams. It’s not always the same, the location varies - sometimes you’re at work, in the bullpen or the conference room, or obscured from the rest of the team by the metallic bulk of an SUV. Sometimes you’re in his apartment, in the kitchen, by the window in the living room, in the doorway of his bedroom. Sometimes it’s just a street corner, at night, at midday, dawn, dusk. But you, you’re always the same. You always look at him with a smile that could light the entire city, and he just tells you.

Spills his guts out all over the floor, every part of him left raw and vulnerable, as he tells you he loves you - has always loved you. Maybe even before he met you. He tells you how his heart stopped in his chest that first morning you walked into the BAU office, how he nearly spilled his coffee down his shirt, how his glasses steamed up with the heat from his cheeks. How Derek, JJ, Garcia, the entire team has been teasing him for literal years. How sometimes he thinks he catches you looking at him, but that’d be just too good to be true wouldn’t it?

And then your smile grows, and you take a step further into his space until there’s scarcely any room between you. That’s when you tell him you do look at him, you look at him all the time. Because you love him, just as hopelessly and desperately and effortlessly as he loves you. That’s when he kisses you. When he grasps your face in his hands and takes a deep breath of you before crashing into you with a bruising force. You take it, of course you do, just as eagerly as he pours himself into it. The kiss of a lifetime. That’s how he’d do it.

But he can’t do any of that, not now.

So, he pulls back, plugs his own seatbelt in, and lets himself wallow in the post-case stillness that settles in the car. Punctuated by Penelope’s voice through the speaker on your phone though it may be. She’s relieved, a little mad that you’d put yourself in harm’s way, but ultimately glad you’re safe. He smiles to himself at that, he can’t help but agree.

Quantico’s parking garage is dark this time of night, of course it would be, but the chill of the concrete seeps into his bones. You shiver beside him as he helps you slide out of the SUV. Goodbyes are short, sweet, exhausted. Each member of the team wandering towards their own vehicles, leaving you and Spencer standing alone under the fluorescent lights.

“Let’s get you home, superhero.” He grins at you as his hand settles gently on the small of your back, guiding you towards the street exit.

It’s not far to the train station, the streets are still busy even at this time of night. Tourists and businessmen and politicians all alike. But you don’t get jostled in the slightest, he makes sure of it - carefully weaving through the throngs to get you safely to your platform. It’s only as he steps onto the train with you that you realise his own home is in the complete opposite direction. It’s borderline unfair how fuzzy he feels at your concern for his own journey.

“I said I was getting you home, not getting you to the station.” He can’t help the fond smile that settles on his features as you look up at him from your seat. He’s chosen to stand, partially in front of you, as a sort of makeshift barrier between your injured arm and any potential commuters who might stumble into you. He holds his hand out to you expectantly and it takes you another moment to fish your keys out of your bag. They’re placed softly in his palm, your fingers barely brushing his. The touch is so gentle compared to the way you almost squeezed that same hand to death only a couple of hours earlier. He just about manages to suppress the shudder that threatens to buckle his knees, and he counts his lucky stars that your building is only a block away from the train’s destination.

The thought only occurs to Spencer when he’s halfway over the threshold of your apartment, too preoccupied with getting you back safely to realise he’s actually never been in your home before. Organised chaos is the term he’d use. The open plan kitchen and living area is tidy but cluttered, books of every genre piled on shelves with no real strategy, a haphazard stack of second hand vinyls that are mostly Tom Waits sit atop an old record player, a small collection of cacti in mismatched terracotta pots are lined up on your little kitchen windowsill. The cupboards are a deep green, which should really be at odds with the peach tinged wash on the walls, but the combination is just soft enough to work. It’s very you.

“I can take care of myself, you don’t have to stay.”

Your name leaves his lips in the same tone it usually does before he can stop it, the same heavy sigh that wraps around the letters more often than not. God, you know exactly how to push his buttons, even when you don’t mean to. You’re missing the point entirely – he wants to take care of you. It’s so rare that you let him.

“Nice try,” He says as he sets your work bag down on one of the chairs at the round kitchen table, “Get changed, I’ll fix up some dinner.”

“You will?” The teasing grin on your face is either because you don’t think he can cook, or because you can’t. He’s leaning towards the former.

“Hey, I’m a man of many talents.”

You stand there for another long few seconds, just watching him. It’s not dissimilar to the look you gave him at the ambulance, in the SUV, on the train home. Like there’s something you’re desperate to say to him; only, you’re not sure how to say it. So you turn on your heel and close the bedroom door behind you.

Spencer physically has to shake off the weight of your gaze before he can move again, even after you’re gone. His own bag finds its place beside yours, jacket folded and draped neatly over the back of the metal chair. It’s the kind of dining set he’d expect to see outside a Parisian cafe, as opposed to being tucked in the corner of a DC apartment. Chipped white metalwork and all, probably originally a garden set, but it fits the eclectic thrift store vibe you’ve curated throughout the space. He finds himself drifting towards your overstuffed bookshelf, to the beat up record player and the pile of albums - the protective sleeve of each one shabbier than the last. He’d been right at first glance, the collection is mostly second-hand Tom Waits albums - with a little Queen, The Magnetic Fields, and Fleetwood Mac in the mix. The album on top is the most dog-eared, and he doesn’t have to employ a single one of his profiling skills to know this one is the most loved, most played, and he’s sure you’ll appreciate the comfort of some background noise. So he’s concentrating on sliding the record out of the sleeve, carefully placing it onto the turntable, and setting the needle down.

The bluesy first bars of Tom Waits’ Heartattack and Vine fill the room at the same time you open the bedroom door, looking more than a little sorry for yourself. And, to his credit, Spencer does a pretty good job of not laughing at the picture of you in the open doorway.

You’ve got yourself tangled up, all wrinkled shirtsleeves and oozing embarrassment - one sleeve dangles empty by your side where the other is still firmly encased by the sling, your sole free arm pokes out of the bottom of your sweater. Your eyebrows are drawn as you look everywhere but at him.

“Can you…?” You trail off. A breath pushes its way out of your lungs, half-sigh and half-helpless laugh.

“Come on.” He erases the distance between you in two strides, hands turning you at the waist before he can even really think about what he’s doing. You shuffle into the room ahead of him, soft rug shielding your socked feet from the cold of the wooden floor. He’s pleased to find the same decorative tastes extend through to your bedroom.

Another bookshelf, also stuffed to the brim with enough material to start your own bookstore. A little wooden desk by the window paired with a chair that doesn’t match, the wall to the right of it is plastered in multicoloured post it notes - a few of them catch his eye, reminders and ideas and shopping lists. Your bedspread is the same dark green as your kitchen cabinets, although it’s mostly obscured by a mess of patchwork blankets and jewel toned decorative pillows. Your sunshine plush has pride of place balanced against the left-hand bedpost on top of the headboard. Even without an eidetic memory, he’d remember the look on your face when he won it for you. Undercover at a travelling carnival in Oregon, the job at hand was to lure out an Unsub whose tastes fit you to a T, but he’d been uncharacteristically powerless to resist at least trying to get something for you. Your cover was a couple, anyway. He’d only been in character. Not only do you still have it, but it has pride of place, and something about it has his pride rearing its head.

You’re fussing with your pyjamas, a threadbare hoodie and garishly patterned sweatpants, when he turns his attention back to you. The reality of the situation seems to hit you both in the same moment.

Spencer is going to have to undress you.

It’s not how he imagined it would be - and that is definitely not something he needs to think about right now. He could keep his eyes closed? Although not being able to see where he should put his hands is arguably more dangerous than it would be to pay attention. He has to clear his throat before he can find his voice.

“I’m going to have to take this off,” He gestures to the sling, hoping he sounds less noticeably wrecked to you than he does to himself, “But we’ll go slow, okay?”

It’s cruel, is what it is, to watch you nod your agreement, to witness your unshakeable trust that he won’t hurt you so closely. Ultimately, it’s not overly different to the way he checks over your protective vest. There’s a strategy, a system to it just the same as the task that lies ahead, and he’ll follow it step by scientific step.

The sling is first, straps carefully undone and the support sliding off your arm - you both support it, your elbow in his palm where yours settles under your wrist. The one free hand you have between you, Spencer’s, works your shirt up over your uninjured shoulder and tugs it over your head. His eyes never drift beyond what you’ve asked of him, though it isn’t for lack of temptation. He slides the remaining sleeve off of your injured arm with a touch so light that neither of you wouldn’t know it was there if not for the skim of his fingers over your bare skin. Your hoodie replaces your work shirt just as carefully, in reverse. Injured arm first, head, uninjured arm. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he concentrates on looping the sling over the thick cotton, securing your arm tight to your chest again. Job done, and without too much embarrassment. He’d call that a success.

“Would you mind-” You struggle for a moment, “The clasp is fiddly.”

Spencer doesn’t know what you mean at first, and then it clicks - and it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You need him to undo your trousers. He can do that, he can do it. He might feel like he’s about to spontaneously combust over the request, but he can do it.

There’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for you, to tell the truth.

It takes him longer than it should to slip the hook out of its clasp, usually nimble fingers fumbling under the weight of both of your gazes. But he doesn’t stop there. Because his usually brilliant mind is buzzing with static and his hands are moving of their own accord and the teeth of the zip on your trousers as he pulls it down is loud.

Spencer pulls back like he’s been shocked, while your eyes remain firmly glued to his hands. Hands that now wring themselves with anxiety as he quietly asks if you can manage the rest. You don’t respond verbally - it takes another long second, but you start shimmying the trousers off of your hips with your free hand. The slightest glimpse of bare thigh has him spinning on his heel and marching towards the kitchen in search of food.

He’s not thinking about the soft material of your sweatpants being pulled carefully over your legs in the other room, as he roots around in your kitchen cupboards. He’s not. A can of chopped tomatoes, a handful of half-empty spice jars, just about enough dry spaghetti for two. It’ll do. A pot of water is set on the stove to boil, the noise is enough of a distraction when the bedroom door opens again behind him. You shuffle about for a few minutes, digging around your shelves and Tom Waits’ gravelly tone cuts off abruptly to be replaced by the softer voice of Stevie Nicks instead. The volume ticks down a couple of notches before you join Spencer in the kitchen as he warms the tomatoes and spices alongside the boiling noodles, moving around him with the same ease you do in the office. You pull out two bowls that don’t match - one is shallower and wider and glazed a sunshine yellow, there’s a chip in the lip of it. The other one is smaller, deeper, glazed navy blue instead and with a cheeky face etched into the pottery. Its nose protrudes slightly, rounded out on one side. He can’t help his smile when he dishes out two equal portions and the red sauce drips down onto the bowl’s nose. He swipes at the mess with his thumb before handing you the bowl.

“Thank you.” You search out his gaze this time, urging him to look you in the eye. For cooking, or what he’s sure is your favourite bowl, or staying. He’s not sure. He wants to tell you that you don’t have to thank him, he’d drop anything and everything at any moment if you needed him to. But something in your eyes has stolen his voice, a flicker of something he’s far too terrified to acknowledge. So he only smiles, takes the yellow dish in his hands, and follows you to the comfort of your vintage floral couch.

It’s not a table dinner kind of evening, you seem to have decided. Although the precarious balance of the bowl on your knees suggests otherwise, as you try to eat one handed. Spencer leans forward to pull the cushion from behind his back, his own dinner temporarily abandoned on the floor in front of him, and he picks up your bowl to slide the cushion across your lap in lieu of a tray. Your laugh is quiet, you don’t look at him, but whatever tension had built in the bedroom dissipates with the sound.

Even so, he shoots off a text to Penelope while you’re preoccupied with your spaghetti, asks if she can lend you a helping hand for the next few days if you need one. You shouldn’t need the sling for more than a week anyway. She responds with a smiley face and a kiss almost immediately. It’s not the first time in his life he’s thanked whatever mystical force is responsible for Penelope Garcia.

Spencer will corral you to the doctor’s office for a checkup in a few days, he’ll make sure you do your stretches, he’ll set alarms for your painkillers. And, ultimately, he’ll come back if you ask him to. He’ll help you in and out of your pyjamas if that’s what you want, of course he will.

Regardless of the way it sets his insides aflame. He’ll do it for you.

yes i know reader inserts are blank slates yes this apartment is basically just my own flat no i don’t care thank u🧡🧡

[harrywavycurly]

To tell the world we are engaged I think an insta post would be fine but the Vogue thing is so good for after the wedding and everything is done? So Harry isn’t single one day then all of a sudden married the next and really upset fans?

Hiii lovey!! Okay so I hope you like this, it’s a mix of a little blurb and also an instagram post where y’all let the world know about the engagement and allow yourself to see how fans and people react! 💖

-find all things Lonely here✨

*if the ring in the instagram isn’t your style that’s okay you can just imagine any ring you want I just used one that looked like it could be family heirloom type vibes*

A/N: You post your ring on instagram and Harry claims you didn’t tell him you were going to do it, enjoy✨

You bite your bottom lip as you hit the share button and watch as the screen on your phone takes you back to your instagram page, you smile as the photo of your engagement ring pops up at the top of your page letting you know the post has been uploaded and is now live. You know people will start to see it pretty quickly, having gained quite a following over the years thanks to your friendships with both Niall and Harry. Ever since Niall posted a video of you talking to Harry in the background of a random backstage video during the One Direction days you became well aware of the fact most of your followers just came to your page in hopes of getting a glimpse of either of the boys, and you don’t mind because for the most part they didn’t bother you much besides a few “where’s Harry?” Or “when is the 1D reunion?” comments under your posts. But that was more than likely all about to change with the photo and caption you just posted because the news of you and Harry getting engaged was going to be a bigger shock to the fans than it was to your friends and family because at least they could kind of see it coming.

“Baby?” Harry’s voice startles you as you slide your phone into the pocket of your pajama shorts. “You okay?” He asks as he watches you from the doorway of your closet with his arms crossed over his chest and a quirked brow.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You answer a little too quickly for his liking as you bend down and grab your slippers from the bottom shelf of the built in shelves you’re standing in front of. You don’t look at him as you slide your feet into them but you soon feel his hands on your hips giving them a gentle squeeze as he stands behind you.

“Do you want to tell me the truth?” He asks as he leans down and places his lips to the top of your head before his hands move from your hips and up your arms until they are resting on top of your shoulders. “Or do you want me to drop it?” You feel his lips next to your ear making you let out a sigh while his hands begin to rub your shoulders instantly making you relax under his touch.

“I was just lost in my thoughts that’s all.” You explain and Harry just nods as you lean your head back so it’s resting on his chest.

“Yeah? What kind of thoughts?” His hands continue to rub your shoulders as you close your eyes and Harry smiles when he hears you let out a little hum of approval when he adds a bit more pressure to his movements trying to help ease the tension he can feel in your shoulders.

“Just thinking of all the different reactions people are going to have that’s all.” Your answer makes Harry’s hands momentarily pause their relaxing rubbing of your shoulders causing you to open your eyes and turn your head so you can look up at him.

“Reaction to what?” You want to roll your eyes at his question but when he looks down at you with his eyebrows raised you can tell he’s not joking. You stand up and turn around making his hands fall from your shoulders causing a slight frown to take over his face at the loss of contact but it’s only there for a moment because when he looks at you and watches you place your hands on your hips and look at him with a slight squint, as if you’re trying to read his face and see if he’s being serious or not he can’t help but begin biting on his bottom lip because he knows he’s clearly missed something and when your squint turns into a full on glare he knows you’re not happy with him.

“I posted the photo just now.” You answer and Harry just nods and you know he has no clue what photo you’re talking about when he brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck so you decide to mess with him a bit. “I went with one from last week at the beach because my ring looks really good in the sunlight.” You can practically see Harry flipping through what the two of you did last week in his mind trying to picture the moment you’re talking about and you have to hold back your smirk when you see his eyes go a bit wide and a hand fall to his hip as he stares at you.

“The beach? You posted a photo of us at the beach? I’m like barely dressed when at the beach.”

“You’re barely dressed when you’re just running out to get coffee Harry the only difference is at the beach you actually fit the dress code.”

“Oh you love my short shorts don’t even act like you don’t.”

“I never said I didn’t. But you’re missing the whole point.”

“Which is?”

“My ring looks really good in the photo.”

“So you posted a photo of us at beach because-wait a minute you said your ring looks good? Like your engagement ring? You posted your engagement ring on the internet?”

“I did.” Harry just stands there and blinks a few times as you answer him while turning around and heading out of your closet and into the bedroom, leaving him standing there with his hand still on his hip and his eyes so wide his eyebrows are practically in his hairline.

“Sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at Harry’s extra soft and sweet tone of voice, the one he saves for when he knows he’s about to say something that will upset you. You place your phone on your nightstand before sitting on the edge of your bed as Harry walks into the bedroom. “You can’t just go and post half naked photos of me and your engagement ring without giving me a heads up.” You rub your lips together and grab your hand lotion off your nightstand as Harry begins pacing the width of the bed, you turn your head to look at him and watch him run a hand through his hair tugging at the roots a bit. “I thought we talked about just letting people find out when we walk a red carpet together or something after the wedding next year?” He asks as he walks around the bed so he’s standing right in front of you.

You look up at him as you begin rubbing in the lotion on your hands and Harry can’t even say he’s surprised by how calm you are because honestly out of the two of you in moments like this he is always the more irrational one, but he can’t help that he is always quick to panic. So him seeing you just casually putting on your hand cream and going on with your nightly routine isn’t anything shocking to him, but it doesn’t do anything to calm him down because all he can think about is how any moment now his phone is going to ring and it’s going to be Jeff asking why there’s a photo of him barely dressed and you with an engagement ring on your hand circling the internet. Because even though Jeff knows the two of you are engaged he wouldn’t be prepared for the media whirlwind of you randomly announcing it with a half naked photo of Harry.

“Harry.” You say his name with a bit sternness that you know he needs in order to get him to stop fidgeting with the rings on his fingers and to get his eyes to look into yours so he can focus on what you’re about to say next. “We talked about this last night and you said it was okay if I posted my ring so that the fans can go ahead and know what’s going on so it’s not such a shock for them to just find out you’re all of a sudden married.” Harry feels your soft hands grabbing his and pulling him closer to you till he’s standing between your legs and you’re staring up at him with a soft smile.

“When did we talk about it last night?” He questions as you let go of his hands, he is quick to place his on the sides of your face as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“While getting ready for bed.” You watch a small smirk form on Harry’s face as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“You mean while you were getting undressed? That’s when you decided to try to have that conversation with me?”

“I didn’t try Harry I did have that conversation with you.”

“And tell me baby how exactly did it go?”

“I said I wanted to tell your fans about our engagement-"

“And what did I say?”

“You said uh huh.”

“Right and then you said what?”

“I said I wanted to do it today and that it’s just going to be a photo of my ring and a cute little caption and you said yeah sure okay.” Harry lets out a breathy chuckle as his thumbs gently stroke your cheekbones and now it’s your turn to feel as if you’re missing something as you look up at Harry confused.

“Baby you had to have known I wasn’t paying any attention to what you were saying.” There’s a playful look in Harry’s eyes as he stares at you while he talks. “Your tits were out and you had on those cute little black and pink-”

“Harry Styles.” You snap as you reach up and place one of your hands over his mouth to stop him from continuing making him laugh as his hands drop from your face as you feel your cheeks get hot at his admission as to why he doesn’t remember having the conversation about you posting the photo today. “You really don’t remember any of that conversation?” You ask and Harry just shakes his head with your hand still covering his mouth, you let out a sigh as you drop your hand from his mouth and rest your forehead on his chest making him laugh as his hands begin soothingly running up and down your arms.

“Let’s look at this photo then shall we? See what the people are saying about us?” You feel one of Harry’s hands leave your arm so he can reach into the pocket of his sweatpants and grab his phone. “Oh you cheeky little thing that’s just a photo of your ring not of us at the beach.” He gives your arm a playful pinch making you laugh as you sit up a bit and turn your head so you can rest your cheek on his chest as he holds his phone so the both of you can see the screen.

“As if I’d post a shirtless photo of you to announce our engagement.”

“Yeah that would’ve been extremely cruel of you. Letting everyone see what they officially can’t have.”

“You really are such a narcissist.” You mumble as Harry begins scrolling through the comment section and you bring your finger up to his phone to make him pause when you see one that makes you laugh. “Does that say-”

“Adopt me? Yes that’s exactly what that says.” You laugh as you tap the comment making a red heart appear next to it. “Love this isn’t your account this is mine.” His tone is teasing but your eyes go wide as you quickly unheart the comment but you know even in the two seconds it took you to fix the mistake that screenshots have been taken and soon fan accounts will be posting all about how Harry Styles liked a fan’s comment asking him and his fiancé to adopt them.

“Oh shit I’m sorry.” Harry just laughs and places a kiss to the top of your head as he puts his phone back in his pocket and leans over to grab yours off the nightstand. “I’m still getting used to the social media part of things when it comes to us.” You know you don’t need to explain yourself because Harry gets it, he knows you enjoy replying to people and liking comments that make you laugh and sometimes he wishes he could do the same thing but sadly he can’t or at least not like he used to.

“You don’t need to apologize sweetheart it’s okay.” He reassures you with a gentle squeeze to your arm as he pulls up your instagram and begins looking through the comments on the post. “Now let’s just give ourselves a few minutes okay? We don’t need to get too caught up in what people say or think of our situation because-”

“Oh that one says you have incredible taste in both rings and fiancés.” You tap the comment so a heart appears next to it and continue to scroll while Harry holds the phone in his hand. “Well that’s just rude.” You mumble as you read a particularly nasty comment making Harry raise an eyebrow as he tries to lean down and read it but you just keep scrolling making him let out a huff.

“Am I just holding the phone then? I don’t get to read any?” His voice is slightly whinny as he watches you scroll a bit more and then pause, when you don’t make any moves to scroll further Harry takes this as a sign to lean down a bit so he can read the screen better and the little portion of comments he can read make a grin take over his face. “I like the one that says you’re their favorite Styles because I agree and just watch you’re probably going to become everyone’s favorite.” You laugh and heart the comment on his behalf and then quickly type out a reply saying Harry agrees. “You’re sneaky love.” You just smile as you feel his lips on the top of your head letting you know he doesn’t mind your reply.

“Uh oh it appears I have stolen this poor girl’s boyfriend from her.” Harry reads the comment you are referring to and shakes his head at you disapprovingly.

“That’s not very nice you should send her a fruit basket or something.” You roll your eyes at him as you continue to scroll and randomly heart a few comments here and there that catch your attention.

“Me? You’re the boyfriend you send her a fruit basket.” You tease as you lean back so you can look up at him, he turns the screen of your phone off before leaning over and placing it back on your nightstand. “That wasn’t so bad.” Harry just smiles and nods in agreement as you place your hands on his chest.

“Can we cuddle now?” He asks as he leans down so the tip of his nose playfully bumps into yours, you drag your hands up his chest and to the back of his neck making him smile as you pull him closer to you so you can place a kiss to his lips. Harry smirks when you pull away and rests his forehead against yours “Or maybe we-”

“Don’t ruin the moment Harry.”

The photo you posted on Instagram:

[kingofbodyrolls]

Taehyung fic recs 2023

In honor of Taehyung’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Taehyung fanfictions, that I’ve read this year 💜I haven’t read that much of Taehyung, just recently gotten into it, so the list might be short, so I’ll leave some of the fics I’m really excited to read from my ‘to read’ list 💎 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(💜) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻. 

⭐One of the Boys by @littlemisskookie // kth x f.reader // childhoodfriends!au, slice of life, bestfriends!au, neighbors!au, high school!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him?

🗨️ Woaw! This was so incredibly good, it’s almost hard to describe, but I’ll try: it does a brilliant job at setting the story up, following oc and Taehyung since childhood, and how their friendship develops over time (and their feelings). It’s really cute and funny and with great smut at the end. Overall a brilliantly good read 💯

⭐Baby, Oh Baby by @jungkookiebus // kth x f.reader // established relationship, noneidol!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Taehyung and you have been trying for months to get pregnant; you’ve tried crazy diets, stuck to your calendar, got him to diet, but it’s all been for nothing. No matter how healthy your doctor says you are, you can’t conceive. Taehyung tries everything within his power to show you that everything is going to be okay and for one night he makes you forget all about the calendars, schedules, and all the crazy things that came with you trying to have a baby. 

🗨️ This was just really cute and loving 🥹The smut was also just ❤️‍🔥💯

⭐Baby Maker by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // marriage!au // 🥵🥰

📝 You're pissed at your husband for being late to your weekly baby-making sessions.

🗨️ Aish, the smut in this 🔥Also all the dirty talk really had me going 🥵

⭐Under wraps by @jungkxook // kth x f.reader // e2l, fake dating // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

🗨️ I just love me some good enemies to lovers AU 🥵 the relationship between OC and tae is really good, I think the tension between them was well built 👏🏾 I loved how their relationship unfolded and grew through their fake dating 🥹 the way OC realized she had feelings for him, but he had showed her before in his subtle moves, how much more he relaxed in her presence. I loved the interaction between oc and tae’s parents too, the way that they could obviously tell that OC was head over heels 😂 ah just, It was really really good! It was funny, it was comforting, and such a lovely read around Christmas! And the smut was sweet and tender (also hot!) 😍 a really great fic that I’ll add to my Christmas re-reads for years to come ✨ I loved it! Please go read it if you haven’t already 🥹

⭐Farmer boy, I Love You by @strawberrynamjoon // kth x f.reader // farming!au, lowkey e2l // 🥵😂

📝 Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

🗨️ This was just utterly sweet, so fluffy 🥺 I really liked this: the way that reader and Taehyung’s friendship deepens, their friends and their banter 🥺 everything was so good, soft, sad sometimes, and just really great and funny too 🤭

⭐The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles [series] by @gimmethatagustd // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers // 🥵

📝 You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.

🗨️ At first I did not realize that this was a series, therefore I’ve linked to the masterlist, lol. Anyway, this series is just so fucking hot, like WHAT 🥵 There’s a lot of banter and their mutual ‘hatred’ for each other just makes this hit incredible hard. Really amazing ✨

⭐Loverboy by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

🗨️ These coworkers gotta go, okay?! 😠🤣 Planting seeds of doubt in OC’s head, no, no. Tae to the rescue!! He is so sweet in this too, yes a real ‘loverboy’ 😍 Gosh and then best friend Jimin - that was just pure gold, their relationship and how he helps OC 🥹 That is friendship goals!! A sweet, loving and comforting Taehyung fic - I loved it ✨

⭐Hush, yeah? [series; ongoing/hiatus] by @kithtaehyung // kth x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, music festival!au // 🥵

📝 Who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty..

🗨️ Pure gold ✨ — I don’t really have much to say, except GO READ IT.

For all of the other lovely fics that I haven’t gotten around to read, but I’m very excited about, I’ve compiled my ‘to read’ list 🙂

‘To read’ list ⬇️

Maybe I do [series; completed] by @chateautae

Gold Rush by @ditttiii

Fanservice by @bangtanintotheroom

Trip by @daechwitatamic

The Art of Obsession by @kooktrash

Dick on the Go by @jeonggukingdom

Love me or we both go down by @gukyi

Gank Mid Lane by @kth1

Good for Me by @icedmatchatae

Something about him by @kooktrash

Love, secret Santa by @jamaisjoons

All I Want for Christmas is You by @ladyartemesia

Buzzed [series; completed] by @junqkook

I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to read more! 😭 Life happened, and yeah. But all of these wonderful fics on my list sound so incredibly good and I really look forward to reading them and give them a lovely review 💜

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAEHYUNG!!! 💜 🥳 🎂

[carmenberzattosgf]

u know what i think about ALL THE TIME… carmy being like, REALLY pissed off and truly at the end of his rope while you’re one of his staff members. you guys have been friends for a while with some simmering tension building between you two, but it’s never been fully explored.

the two of you have been fighting all day and it reaches a boiling point where he all but drags you outside (presumably to scream at you some more), but INSTEAD he grabs the back of your neck and bends you over face-first onto some empty pallets behind the restaurant. “you don’t want this, then get up and walk away.” and you’d be mouth open gasping, but STAYING THERE cuz you’re tryna see what happens. after a beat of silence, he pulls your pants down and roughly fucks you right then and there. he’d still be angry, with some terse kind of “you still want to keep running your fucking mouth?” punctuated by sharp, deep thrusts that make you clench your teeth together to avoid screaming 😍🤸 and you’d have to walk back inside on shaking legs a few minutes later trying to pretend that carmy’s cum isn’t dripping down your thighs💕💕

anyway that’s all JDHSKDJSKSK

ANON????? OH MY GOD?????? IM FREAKING OUT OVER THIS??? Like you just put a whole blurb in my ask box I am so honored and flattered???? Expansion on this under the cut!!

Dude dude dude. Yes. So you’ve been working at the bear for a few months now. It’s been months of built up tension between you and Carmy. Carmy knows, and you know it’s more than just a simple friendship between the two of you.

Carmy tries to keep it professional. He really tries. But, his attempts make him more cold and blunt towards you, which culminates in the big fight. It’s over something stupid really, but he gets so fucking pissed because it’s been one thing after another this day. He flips out over you not having a “properly cleaned station”.

“Chef. How many fucking times do I have to tell you to clean up your goddamn station? Look at this shit. It’s a mess.” He yells, pointing to your station.

“Are you being serious right now? I’m in the middle of fucking prep. How the hell am I suppose to keep it clean during prep when I haven’t finished yet-“

Carmen cuts you off in the middle of your sentence. “Syd! Take over y/n’s prep.”

“What the fuck, Carmen?” He doesn’t answer your question, instead he pulls you out of the kitchen by your wrist. Once he gets you out the back door of the restaurant, you expect some kind of explanation for his behavior. “What? Couldn’t yell at me for no reason in front of everyone else?”

Carmy is on you in an instant. His strong hand engulfs the back of your neck, leading you to a stack of empty pallets before bending you over it. He stands behind you, hand still on the back of your neck, but not holding you down anymore. Your mind races, but one thing is clear. Carmy’s hard dick is pressing your ass.

“If you don’t want this, get up and walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened.” He leans down to whisper in your ear. Carmy’s voice is rough, full of desire. Your breathing picks up, but you don’t dare move. Instead, you whine when he rolls his hips against your ass. “Fucking knew you would want me like this. Such a fucking slut aren’t you?”

Carmy wastes no time to pull down your pants and underwear all in one go. You bite your lip, trying not to moan when his fingers run through your folds. “So nasty to be this wet in an alleyway for me where anyone can see.” You should be humiliated. Your boss has you bent over for him in an alleyway, but all you can do is beg for more.

“Please. Please please please.” You cry out, not even quite sure what you’re asking for. You hear the sound of him undoing his belt, and his cock enters you with no warning. He doesn’t go slow, filling you up to the hilt in one quick thrust. You cry out in surprise; he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before. He starts fucking into you a second later, setting a quick pace with his hands digging into your hips. Your fingers dig into the pallets in front of you, desperate to find something to hold onto.

“Fuck- maybe this will teach you to stop running that mouth of yours and listen to me.” He practically moans out, thrusting deep and hard into you. “You need to learn to behave.”

“S-sorry chef. I’ll d-do better.” You feel his movements falter at the title, before he picks back up the pace, hitting even deeper inside of you. You’re already seeing stars, nearing your climax. “C-chef, please I’m so close.”

“Yeah? Going to come for your boss in a filthy alleyway?” One of his hands leaves your hip to touch your clit, rubbing fast circles with his callused fingers. “Go on then. Come around my cock like the slut you are.” He was losing himself too. His voice is rough and thin as he speaks.

It only takes a few more seconds before you come, biting into your hand so you don’t scream. Carmy’s pace falters before you feel him spill into you with a muffled groan.

He pulls out of you promptly without a word, stepping back to put back on his own pants. You stay in the same position, trying to catch your breath.

“Be back at your station in five minutes” Carmen says, walking back into the restaurant. You quickly pull up your pants, trying to ignore the feeling of his cum slowly dripping out of you. You don’t have any spare pants in your locker. You’re going to have to work through the rest of your shift with his cum running out of you and down your thighs.

You swallow your pride and go back inside to your station. Everyone else thinks Carmy just scolded you outside of the restaurant, so no one says a word when you return, taking back over your prep from Sydney.

Yeah let’s just say that’s not the last time Carmen fucks you in the middle of a shift. I’m thinking a nice fuck buddies relationship forms after this hehe.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 005: All That and A Can of Worms

Chrissy offers you some insight about Eddie over brunch. You ask Steve how he’d feel about a threesome. Eddie asks if you want to go on another smoke break in his van.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 4.6k

warnings — mutual pining, angst, tension, casual hookups, profanities, NURSE…billy’s out again, talks of abuse, manipulation

“You’re good at impersonating someone who cares. You had me for a minute there.”

♡

Being annoyed and sexually frustrated at Benny’s Diner at 9 AM is not how you want to start your day. But anything for your new — and very hungover — friend, Chrissy.

You would think Miss Cherry still had the munchies from last night just by how she’s inhaling her breakfast potatoes. You sit there and drink your piping hot tea, all while Chrissy spills hers.

“I don’t know,” Chrissy shrugs. “I just think Crypto currency is shady as hell, and the fact that Jason is doing it full time is a red flag.”

“And you’ve been seeing him for how long?”

“Like two weeks,” she answers. “I was gonna invite him to the thing but I don’t think Eddie would’ve liked him.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I feel like BYOB is more on the…intimate side anyways. Eddie’s close circle.”

Chrissy nods in agreement as she continues to chow down, paying no mind to the adorable ketchup stain she acquired at the corner of her chin.

You can hardly contain it anymore.

“What can you tell me about Eddie?”

Chrissy’s munching ceases. She’s slowly chewing now, attempting to read you.

“Depends…” she squirms. “What do you wanna know?”

“What’s he like?” you wonder. “Did he ever have a girlfriend? Is he someone who’s emotionally available?”

Chrissy thinks for a moment.

“The last serious partnership he ever had was with Isabelle,” she cringes. “But we won’t go into that.”

Isabelle. Okay, you’ve got something.

“Is she the lady friend?”

“No, Lady Friend was just some random chick,” Chrissy shakes her head. “Isabelle was like… serious serious.”

Suspicious now, Chrissy automatically is inclined to ask,

“And you’re asking me this because…?”

Chrissy has been nothing but welcoming ever since you started at Hellfire. The friendship you two have built you feel is something very strong. You trust her enough to know about last night’s scandal with your boss.

“Some things happened last night.”

Chrissy’s eyes widen. “Omg. Like what?”

“Well…” you exhale. “When you went home with Argyle, Eddie gave me a ride home.”

“Go on…”

“We got pretty stoned and then things got heated. Right before we were about to do anything he flat out dipped on me! Blamed it on not wanting to fuck under the influence. I get it, but… something is telling me there’s more to it.”

Just as you expect, Chrissy’s eyes widen in shock. Laughing at the wild news she just received, she requests a quick backtrack. Acceptable reaction.

“Hold on,” she stops you. “We skipped a few chapters. I…thought you were banging his roommate Steve.”

“I am.”

“AND YOU ALSO WANNA GET WITH EDDIE?”

The entire restaurant, it seems, goes quiet. You could hear a spoon clink against some plates from the other side of the establishment.

You try to shush Chrissy. “Dude…”

“Sorry,” Chrissy covers her mouth. She lowers her voice to an aggressive whisper. “Damn, girl! You’re a little hoe.”

You can tell she’s joking.

“Can you blame me though?” you chuckle.

“No,” she shakes her head and giggles. “I really can’t.”

You nod in agreement with her as she mouths “Sooo hot” regarding both Eddie and Steve. Then Chrissy grows serious again.

“Now that we’re here…can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “Anything.”

“As someone who’s…hooked up… with Eddie before…” she begins. “I do think that his behavior towards you is a liiittle strange. He’s typically not hot and cold. He’s usually very forward.”

The plot thickens. It would make sense that those two were a thing, given the sexual tension they had last night when Eddie gave Chrissy the edible.

“Wait you and Eddie hooked up?”

“Yeah…” Chrissy confirms. “He used to smoke me out a lot when I first started at Hellfire. One thing led to another and we ended up sleeping together a few times.”

You start to feel like an idiot.

“Chrissy…I’m so sorry,” you start.

But your friend flails her hands around insistently.

“Don’t be sorry! Oh my gosh. It naturally died down anyways!” she exclaims. “'Think it had to do with the excitement of a new face. Eddie eventually got too busy and I started seeing other guys.”

“Oh,” you dial down. “I still feel like I’m breaking girl code in a way.”

“Don’t be sorry girl!” Chrissy repeats. “When it comes to me, you’re not! I actually think everyone needs to experience that man at least once.”

That man, being Eddie.

You jaw pops open.

“What?”

“I’m serious girl,” Chrissy sighs. “He’s just that good.”

“You’re lying.”

“Eyes rolled back,” Chrissy gushes. “Everything. OOH! Girl, he is just so respectful but rough and it’s, ugh…”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It’s sex from another dimension.”

You and Chrissy squeal in excitement as she gives the details, reenacting most of the ordeal on her poor breakfast potatoes. It's revealed to you that Eddie loves catering to the female body, loves taking charge, and lives for a woman’s reaction. That alone is good enough to make him cum. It all makes you think about the dream you had and if it would be anything close to that.

“Well anyways,” Chrissy concludes. “Eddie’s one of the most chivalrous guys I know. Fucking a girl while she’s not sober is just not how he rolls. He probably freaked out.”

“I understand that,” you tap the table in thought. “But something was still off though. I barely had time to process it. Before you know it, he was dumping me at my house as if nothing happened.”

You fill Chrissy in on more of the details, chugging your tea like it’s a bottle of hot vodka. Being hot and bothered with nothing but a wet dream to get you by until you see one of them again is not a good combination.

“I would talk about this with Eddie and Steve,” Chrissy politely suggests. “And soon. I can feel the…frustration…radiating off your very strong grip…”

You nearly slam your teacup on the wooden table. Chrissy flinches.

“You’re telling me you two haven’t fucked when you were both high before? I mean like come on, that’s what gets people in the mood most times.”

“You may be onto something,” Chrissy squints in thought. “We were high almost every single time. So why now the sudden change?”

“Exactly.”

You say to Chrissy verbatim everything Eddie said to and about you last night. How he was fucking his fist yesterday to your moans. How he was telling you how much he wanted to fuck your brains out while being inches away from your face. How he had the opportunity to have you but chose to run from it the moment you showed interest. Nothing about it made sense.

"Leaving me high and dry after all that?" you reiterate. "I'm almost certain that never happened with you."

“But I also wasn’t hooking up with Steve at the same time,” Chrissy points out. “Maybe this deal might be breaking guy code in a way.”

Or the Munson Doctrine.

The phone rings, ushering your convo with Chrissy to a standstill. Your heart has been trained into thinking it’s Billy, especially since the eerie phone calls and messages have started up again. You’re overpowered by nausea and suddenly want the check.

The name that pops up on your phone causes you to breathe a sigh of relief.

MAX MAYFIELD 💌

“It’s my sister,” you announce. “Let’s keep it PG.” You tap the green phone button to accept the call. “Hey!”

“Hey, I was wondering if you can spot me $100 a month,” Max requests. “At least until I find a job.”

“Good morning to you too,” you mutter.

“Pleeeaaase!” Max begs. “It’s for the Y.”

“A membership at the Y is $100 a month?!”

“Yeah Hawkins is a fucking shoebox, I’ve learned,” Max mutters. “The city needs a lot of funding to keep things open. So will you do it?”

“Only because I love you,” you sigh. “But you better be looking for a job.”

“Scouts honor,” Max promises. “Thank you, sis. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Has Billy been reaching out?”

You swallow hard.

“Yeah," you choke. "Has he been texting you?”

“Mhm.”

Billy called again this morning. And again and again. Surprisingly, there was only one voicemail. But it was the same spiel.

"Hey, it's me," Billy greeted you in his voicemail. "Answer the fucking phone, please! I miss you and Max. You guys are lucky I'm giving you another chance."

His words just boil your blood. If anything, it should be him earning another chance from you and Max. Not the other way around.

"I'm worried about you guys. Y'all have never left the house for this long. So if this is your way of proving a point, all this manipulation projection, you guys won. Just please come back home okay? We can talk it out and ground ourselves to the situation at hand. Together. As siblings. No one loves you as much as I do, and no one will ever love you like I do. We’ll figure it out. Like we always do. K. Later.”

Billy never knows what he’s talking about. It’s obvious he takes every word he hears in therapy and makes alphabet soup out of it. Otherwise, he’d be practicing what he preaches.

The lack of control your brother has over you and Maxine is making him spiral. Without an ample supply, Billy is sure to explode any day now.

“Whatever you do,” you caution her. “Don’t fucking reply.”

“I know, I know,” Max says. “I know how this shit goes.”

“I love you,” you say again.

“Love you more.”

You hang up and instantly begin massaging your temples. Chrissy watches in horror.

“Man do you need dick or what…” she shakes her head. “Hearing all that stressed me out!”

“Tell me about it,” you sigh. “I need two if I’m being honest.”

A few more nibbles of your food, and then you and Chrissy go your separate ways, paying for both of your meals in all ones. You two do it for the cashier’s reaction. It’s always pretty funny.

“Anyway, thanks for this girly,” you give Chrissy a hug.

“Any time!” Chrissy beams. “I’ll see you tonight. We need to do this again soon.”

“Yeah, I just gotta find the time,” you mumble. “I still gotta meet Eddie for his usual stripper-orientation-lunch-thing that he does. Might as well buy a planner with all these commitments popping up.”

As she slows down her walking speed, Chrissy looks over at you with a puzzled look on her face.

“Wait… what ‘usual’ lunch?”

———- ☕️———-

Eddie’s van is nowhere in sight when you pull into Steve and Eddie’s neighborhood. You make your way over to the townhouse quickly, trying to catch The King before you have to clock in.

It’s one push of the doorbell and a wave into the Ring camera before Steve answers.

“Hey you!” he cheers as the door swings open. “Good to see you.”

He showers you with kisses before inviting you in.

“Good to see you too,” you kiss him right back. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me before the gym.”

“Anything for you,” Steve responds. “Dustin usually runs late anyway.”

You make yourself at home by setting your purse on the now tidy kitchen island. Steve offers you some water and you accept. He puts a lemon wedge in it to make it look fancy.

“I got you something,” Steve proclaims.

Before you could react, he’s already running to his room to get you your surprise. Your heart begins to skip a beat.

“Stop,” you gush as Steve disappears into his room. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” Steve insists as he races back out. For someone who was insanely drunk the night before, Steve is so full of energy. “Especially since I made myself look like a fool last night.”

In his hands, Steve unveils something the size of his palm.

It’s a fridge magnet of a Hawaiian hula girl, with a grass skirt, coconut bra, and a beautiful plumeria lei. She’s got sunglasses on, hilariously one that matches Steve’s. The magnet says your name on it in purple.

“Oh my gosh!” you cheer, with slight confusion. “A hula girl magnet.”

“Yeah!” Steve cheers. “I saw it at CVS and had to get it for you.”

You watch in amusement as Steve attempts his own version of a hula dance. He sings a song while he does so, but it sounds like a language he made up and not actual Hawaiian. You can’t help but giggle.

“It’s the closest thing to sunny San Diego that we have here.”

Your heart swells when you realize the meaning behind the gesture. Such a thoughtful thing for Steve to do. It all makes you miss home a bit more. You never did get to properly grieve saying goodbye to the town that raised you. The grip you have on your little gift tightens so much that the hula girl is now starting to hurt you.

“I know how much you probably miss home,” Steve explains. “Hopefully soon you can go back and visit.”

“Thank you,” you sniff. “That is so sweet of you.”

You two kiss again.

Then it goes beyond an endearing peck. It’s three more intense lip locks back to back before Steve slowly starts to insert his tongue. You roll yours along with his, both of your tongues wrestling for dominance. He bites your lower lip, hands moving from your waist to the small of your back. As you surrender your hands against his chest, Steve sneaks a quick grab to one of your ass cheeks. You moan in his mouth.

“So I was thinking…” you smirk, poking Steve at his sides. “That we can spice things up in the bedroom.”

“Ooh,” Steve bites his lip as he draws you closer. “I like where this is going. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking…” you answer. “That I’ll take you up on that voyeur thing. Give Eddie a little show?”

Steve seems puzzled.

“Huh?”

It’s far too late to take anything back now. The worst Steve can say is no.

“Remember yesterday you said that you’re a voyeur. And that we might as well let Eddie watch?” you elaborate. “Maybe we can also do a little more too. You, me, and him?”

“Oh…” Steve’s demeanor softens. He runs his hands through his freshly done hair, then sits down on the bar stool closest to him.

Steve looks at you for a moment, expression unreadable as he shoves his hands into his pocket.

“Hargrove I…” Steve says. “I was kidding.”

You begin to feel yourself flush. “Oh.”

Your friend with benefits taps his feet in thought, making sure to craft his response perfectly out of respect for everyone.

“This is something you really wanted to do?”

“Of course, but if you don’t want to that’s totally okay too!”

You made sure you were clear on that. Steve thinks for a minute again. Then his eyes travels over to the bar stool next to him, where Eddie’s leather jacket is lazily perched atop of. He sighs.

“Who, uh, who was your ride last night?” Steve inquires. “Since you know, I was the one who drove us.”

You gulp. “Eddie was.”

“Oh,” Steve repeats.

He kicks the floor gently with his feet. You, since you’ve been watching his every move, subconsciously follow.

“I’m really sorry if I got your hopes up,” Steve apologizes. “I should’ve never worded the Eddie thing the way I did yesterday. If I’m honest with you, a threesome isn’t something I would be okay with.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve hangs his head. “I don’t know if you remember, but a third party is what destroyed my last relationship… so that topic is still pretty sensitive to me.”

You take that back. That’s the worst thing Steve could say.

The space closes up around you and shame starts to fire at you from all corners of the room. You feel like such an idiot for not realizing something so inherently obvious.

“Steve…” you don’t even know where to begin. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Hargrove. You didn’t know,” Steve shrugs it off. “It’s not like we’re exclusive either.”

Steve’s phone vibrates, and judging by how fast he gets up, you assume it’s because Dustin is getting closer. You start to reach for your purse, recognizing that your stay is about to be over.

“I feel really bad for taking this now,” you hold the hula girl magnet up to Steve.

But nonetheless, Steve smiles. “Keep it, darling. She suits you.”

Steve still insists on walking you to you car, carrying your purse for you over his shoulder while you fiddle awkwardly with the hula girl. He gives your rosy cheeks one last tender kiss before opening the door to the driver’s side so you can get in.

“Have a good shift,” Steve smiles faintly. “Tell Eddie I got him the Scooby snacks he wanted.”

You try to laugh at the most Eddie thing you’ve ever heard, but it’s not there. So instead you nod. “Of course. Have a good workout, Stevie.”

“Oh, I will.”

———— 𓆩♡𓆪 ———-

When talking with the Hellfire girls, it’s decided that you’re on tip rail tonight. Distracted by the new problem at hand, you naturally end up forgetting a few last minute things. Lucky for you, House Mom had travel sized makeup for you to use and a wide selection of small snacks to choose from.

You’re eating by Nancy’s little concession set up when your boss strides in. Eddie scoots by you, his lack of spacial awareness causing him to bump you aggressively against the hip. With the height difference and how much more bigger he is than you, the small brush shoves you forward.

“Rude,” you call out to him, though you’re only half joking.

“Sorry,” he tuts. “Behind.”

“You better be sorry,” you snap back. “With your mean ass.”

Eddie waltzes back over and asserts himself behind you, resting his rough hands at your sides. Your breathing hitches as he bends down, his curly locks tickling your cheekbones ever so teasingly.

“Would you say I’m being disrespectful?”

You turn to face him and nudge him with your hip. He chuckles slyly.

“Very,” you respond. “Very disrespectful.”

“Disrespectful. Sober,” Eddie rests his chin along your collarbone. “Looks like we both kept our promises.”

You two sway side to side in silence, enjoying the moment. Work is definitely not going to be this slow so you take it all in while you can.

“How’s your day going?” Eddie mumbles against your skin.

“Alright so far,” you respond. “Chrissy and I went to Benny’s for breakfast. And my sister wants a YMCA membership now so I’m either gonna have to pick up more shifts or reallocate some finances…”

“I vouch for the first option,” Eddie smirks.

“Oh yeah? Of course you do.”

“Mhm…” he nods. “Got some things I need you to do for me in the private show room.”

Goosebumps start to rise. You can’t have him here now. Not when you’re about to go on stage pretty soon. Eddie removes his hands from your hips and changes his embrace to a bear hug instead. The swaying continues.

“Billy also called this morning.”

The swaying stops.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters as you spin around to face him. “You didn’t answer that piece of shit did you?”

“‘Course not,” you cross your arms. “There’s nothing to say or do at this point. He made his bed. My sister and I moved on.”

“Good girl,” he coos. “Your new life is here with us anyways.”

You blush as you suck on your lollipop, eyes meeting Eddie’s once again. Eddie’s dark pupils dilate once more, his tongue venturing out as he licks his lips hungrily.

“Grab your things,” Eddie orders. “Let’s go for a quick smoke.”

You’re back in his van again, smoking the same bong and rolling with the same paper as you did last night. Hopefully this is the redo you’ve been anticipating. Before Eddie lights up the bowl, he glances down at your tote bag.

“Scrubs 4 Less?” he chuckles.

“Oh yeah…” you say. “I may have told my little sister I work nights at the nursing home.”

“You are vile,” Eddie laughs. “Creative, but diabolical and oh so very vile.”

“I prefer the term protective,” you utter as-a-matter-of-factly.

“Mmm, very…” Eddie quips. “Got any spare restraints then, nurse? You got a madman on the loose.”

You bite your lip in absolute lust. “I suppose I can spare a few.”

You kick your stilettos off and rest your feet on Eddie’s lap again. He automatically compensates, staring at you in complete bliss as he exhales.

“Steve bought you your Scooby gummies by the way.”

“Fuck yeah,” he smiles. “Husband of the year.”

Eddie resumes grazing your legs again, rubbing your calves and moving upwards to your thighs. He bombards you with words of endearment, saying he needs to watch the junk food he eats because he’s trying to look good for you. Flustered you slowly sit up, further closing the space between you two and leaning into Eddie’s touch.

Oh yeah, right where you left off.

“I still can’t get over how hot you looked last night,” he says. “Doing your little thing at the VIP table. Downing that tequila. Chewing those gummies while holding your own. You’re something else.”

You blush.

“You were looking pretty hot yourself,” you compliment him and he blushes back. “And when you got all angry at that customer. I was getting all flustered.”

“Mm, you like when I’m aggressive huh?”

“Oh yeah,” you bite your lip. “Love my men rough around the edges.”

So you decide to make the move. Eddie inhales sharply as you scoot yourself closer, leaning in to kiss his soft lips just as you intended to last night. To your shock, you’re taken aback when Eddie pushes you away.

“Whoa!” he exclaims. “Easy there, tiger.”

“What?” is all your mouth can formulate. “Oh no, do I have food in my teeth?”

Eddie chuckles. “No? I just can’t kiss you, silly.”

Bewilderment overrides your horniness now. Removing yourself from Eddie completely, you’re back in your own seat, crossing your legs away from your boss who is still casually lighting up.

“Eddie, what’s going on? I thought we were feeling each other.”

He sets his lighter down and glances over at you.

“Scuse me?”

“Last night…” you remind him. “We were close just like this…you said you wanted to fuck my brains out… told me you were jacking off to my screams in the bathroom.”

“We were fucked up, Hargrove,” Eddie explains. “Okay? It was a mistake.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts or whatever the fuck right?”

Eddie falls silent. There is no way in the world that this is happening right now. You think about brunch. You think about Chrissy. You think about what Eddie did just fifteen minutes ago that led up to this very moment. But Eddie’s the puzzled one?

“I like you Shy Girl,” Eddie begins. “I really do. But this? Can’t be a thing.”

“Why not?” you find yourself asking. Like a desperate little girl.

“Getting involved with an employee would just open up another can of worms,” Eddie sighs. “I can’t play like that. I won’t play like that.”

That’s his excuse? You find yourself getting even more frustrated. Eddie should have had the same mindset when he was hooking up with Chrissy. What made this situation any different?

But surely, you don’t bring Chrissy up. You didn’t want Eddie to know you knew.

“Eddie,” you try to control your voice. “I thought that after all this… the feeling was mutual.”

Eddie exhales. “Sweetheart… All the pet names and the flirting and the giving rides home…Whatever you picked up on, I do that with everybody.”

He can’t say he didn’t warn you. That was the first phrase of Eddie’s to stick with you entirely. It all felt so personal though. Like everything was geared specifically to you.

“Really?” you demand. “You do it with everybody? The last time I checked, Chrissy had no idea what that orientation lunch that you do with everybody is about.”

“It’s a…newer thing.”

“Or it’s a ploy to get to know me better,” you hiss. “And then what would you have done if you got what you wanted?”

Rage fills you now. Clouded with the anger, you scoop down to grab your bag and push the door of Eddie’s van open. Eddie’s shocked at your sudden behavior change.

“Whatever,” you huff as you climb out. “It’s all good. I gotta get ready for the show.”

“Hargro-” Eddie starts. “Hargrove!”

“And put some more water in that thing, would you?” you California self orders him. “Your lungs will thank me later.”

The little time left before the show permits you to go to the bathroom and cry. Your familiar friend, Loss, is paying you a visit again.

You fucked up. You had someone so good to you, someone so patient and gentle and caring, and you threw that away for your manipulative walking red flag of a boss. Surely, Steve might still want to casually sleep with you, but the energy has shifted now. You’ve lost him, you fear.

But no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself, Steve couldn’t give you everything you wanted. He was still missing something, which is why you stayed falling for Eddie. Or the idea of Eddie, rather. Everything you made him up to be has now been rendered completely false.

So now even Eddie can’t meet you where you’re at.

Emptiness comes by to accompany your friend Loss. Pressing your lips to your arm, you let out a muffled wail.

Fuck. How could you be so damn stupid?

Billy’s words crawl along your back and into your ears. You’re afraid your brother is right again; and for someone as irrational as he is, you can’t help but wonder how that could be true.

“No one loves you as much as I do, and no one will ever love you like I do. We’ll figure it out. Like we always do.”

Come home.

All while abusive, Billy’s love was always unconditional. No matter how far both of you took it, the key was always under the mat. And no matter how many times Max had to separate the two of you, shouting for you two to stop trying to strangle each other, you two always found your way back into each other’s arms.

You two came out of the womb hugging. You escaped your cribs to sleep beside each other. You comforted each other after every beating. You fed Billy to make sure he ate after Mom’s funeral while he did your laundry and laid out your clothes for a week straight. When one of you was in danger, the other just simply knew.

Billy is Love in its truest form. Your greatest comfort. All you’ve ever known. And that alone scared the hell out of you.

It all makes you crumble further. Is your brother’s love as good as it’s ever going to get?

———————

author’s note: our boy eddie is RAN THROUGH!!!!! also i love how ST fanfic writers have all collectively agreed to drag steve to HELL AND BACK for the plot 🫣😩 poor boy never gets a break, not in the original universe, not in this universe, not in any of ‘em

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tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe , @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi i , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @holabeans00 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking

[bellaturner]

Could your write a fic where Alex and the reader have been best friends for years and she’s in love with him but she’s to afraid to tell him because he’s constantly getting new girlfriends and she feels like he doesn’t even look at her the same way anymore every time she tries to tell him he somehow is busy or something

Your writing is so good and I’m a whore for angst love you

A Certain Romance

Heeey, Anon! I truly loved working on this prompt! (I accidentally lost all track of time, spent 2 hours writing it, and got so late for class I gave up on going)

Anyways, I really hope you enjoy it 💕

Contains smut and angst

Summary: YN decides to confess her feeling for Al after getting jealous of his (many) girlfriends, risking their friendship.

Warnings: alcohol, dom Alex, praising, orgasm denial (not really), shouting, name calling, oral sex, dude it's just pure angst and smut...

2,7k words (it got bigger then what i intended, sorry)

Masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As Alex's words reverberated through the room, your heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from your chest. His accusations hit you like a ton of bricks, each one piercing your skin like a needle. You had harbored feelings for him for so long, but you had been too afraid to confess them and risk losing the friendship that had been built over the years. And now, as he screamed at you, you could feel the walls closing in.

His anger was palpable, radiating from him like heat from a furnace. You tried to take a step back, to distance yourself from the painful words, but his presence was overwhelming, suffocating. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you struggled to find the words to defend yourself, to explain how you truly felt.

"You've been friendzoning me for years, YN!" Alex's voice boomed through the room, his hands raking through his hair in frustration. "I can't fucking believe you!" The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating, and you felt the weight of it bearing down on your shoulders.

You felt the bile rise in your throat as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. "Oh shut up, Alex," you spat, your voice trembling with emotion. "How could I be friendzoning you when I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember, you dumb ass!"

But his response was like a slap in the face, a cruel twist of the knife. "Oh wow, what a great joke" the sarcasm in his voice dripped like venom, and you turned away, hoping to hide the tears that streamed down your face. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words had affected you, but the sobs that wracked your body betrayed you.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD, YN, ARE YOU CRYING?" Alex's voice rose to a deafening pitch, the anger and frustration almost palpable. You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself, but the tears continued to stream down your face, blurring your vision.

"You're such a clown!" he continued, his voice dripping with contempt. "You decide to unload this shit on me now? Just when I got a new girlfriend and am leaving for a stupid tour tomorrow?" His words cut you, and you felt your friendship hanging by a thread.

But you couldn't keep the anger inside any longer. "Well, I'm fucking sorry that you're such a man-whore, showing up with a new girlfriend every couple of weeks!" The words felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, but the relief was short-lived. You knew that there was no going back from this.

"You've been a fucking mess since Alexa!" you added, your voice trembling with emotion. The words hit both of you deeper than you expected, and the tension in the room only continued to thicken. You could feel the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging over you like a dark cloud, and you wondered if there was any way to salvage what was left of your friendship.

But Alex was not having it. "You have no fucking right to say anything about her! Nor about my love life, YN," he growled, his voice dripping with anger and menace. He stepped closer, and your heart raced with fear.

"Do. You. Understand. YN?" he hissed, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed and vulnerable.

You tried to apologize, to explain that you didn't mean what you said, but he cut you off. "Yeah, yeah. Save it for someone else. I know you hate Alexa and what she did to me." There was something in his eyes, a flicker. "What interests me, though, is your hate for the others"

As Alex loomed over you, his body language radiated aggression, and his words weighed heavily on you. You struggled to gather your thoughts as he inched closer, emitting a suffocating heat.

Despite your lack of reaction, Alex persisted in attacking your dislike of the others. His intense gaze weakened your knees, and you fought to maintain composure.

"I don't hate anyone, Al," you stuttered, attempting to calm him down. "I simply don't believe they're good for you."

In response, Alex sneered and scoffed, mocking your concern. "And you think you know what's best for me? Spare me the lies, YN. You don't know me."

His words cut deep, inciting a surge of hurt and anger within you. However, before you could retaliate, Alex stormed away, consumed by fury.

"What the hell do you mean? I've know you since we were kids, Alex!" you raised your voice, your anger grewing stronger by his unthought words. "And where the fuck are you going? We are not done here!" you followed him, just to end up on his private study, where he was pouring himself a glass of whisky. Not a shot, a whole glass.

"Yes we are, YN" he sounded angry and defeated.

"Like fuck we are, Turner. Talk to me, you can't just flip out like that and leave me here wondering if you'll ever talk to me again. I value our friendship too much" you vomited all at once.

There he was again, the angry, scary Alex "Why cant you just shut up!?" he shouted from the window. "You started this situation, you put me in this position, and now you want me to solve it?" he fired at you.

He was right, you had, indeed, ruined your friendship. As you sat down behind his desk, you accepted your defeat. But he wasn't going to let you go that easily. He downed the whisky glass all the once.

"Unbelievable. I can't believe you kept this from me for so long," he muttered, his voice rough and hoarse as he poured himself another shot of whiskey, his hands shaking with anger and frustration.

You could feel the tension in the air, and your heart raced with anticipation and fear. Alex was unpredictable when he was angry, and you didn't want him to hurt your feelings anymore than he already had.

"I'm sorry, Alex," you said softly, hoping to diffuse the situation. "I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid of losing our friendship."

"You think telling me after all these years won't ruin our friendship?" he snapped, his eyes burning with rage. "You had your chance, YN. You had your chance and you blew it."

"I know I messed up," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "But we can still salvage our friendship. We just need to talk it out."

"Talk it out?" he repeated, his voice rising with every word. "You think we can just talk it out after this? After you kept this from me for so long? You're delusional, YN."

As he spoke, you could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes again. You never meant to hurt him, but it seemed like everything you did just made things worse.

"You're right, Alex," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I messed up. I should have told you earlier. I just hope you can forgive me."

He didn't respond, just poured himself a third shot and downed it in one gulp. The silence was deafening, and you could feel the weight of his anger and disappointment bearing down on you.

Just when you thought he was going to explode again, he surprised you by grabbing your waist and pulling you towards him, making you get up. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, his kiss rough and demanding.

As you pushed him away, the heat of the moment dissipated and confusion took over. Your mind raced as you struggled to make sense of what just happened. "What the hell, Alex? You can't just kiss me like that after everything you just said!" you exclaimed, your voice shaking.

"Why not?" he shot back, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and desire. "You wanted this too, YN. Admit it."

Your frustration grew as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "That's not the point!" you finally managed to say, your mind still clouded with confusion. "You can't just switch between being angry and then trying to kiss me. It's not fair."

But before you could say anything more, he whispered, "Watch me," and pulled you in for another kiss. You knew you shouldn't, but his lips on yours were irresistible. You felt your hands instinctively find their way to the back of his head, pulling on his hair as you deepened the kiss, making him pull away.

"If you think you have any type of upper hand in this situation, you are deeply mistaken, love," he said, holding your wrists above your head as he stared deeply into your eyes. And then, he went in for another kiss, more demanding and passionate than before, as if he wanted to consume every inch of you.

His lips were insistent and demanding, and you couldn't help but melt into his embrace. The anger and frustration you felt just moments ago were replaced by a burning desire that seemed to consume your every thought.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you up against the wall, his hands roaming all over your body. You moaned into his mouth, unable to resist his touch.

"You're mine now," he said, his voice low and possessive. "And you're going to do exactly what I say." You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, both scared and excited at the same time. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for him.

"Use your fucking words, YN. You were full of them just now" he said, grabbing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him.

You could feel his intense gaze on you, his eyes locking onto yours as he waited for your response. "Yes, Al," you breathed out, your voice shaky with desire. "I'm yours. Tell me what to do."

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth, pleased with your submission. "Good girl," he murmured, his fingers trailing down your neck and over your collarbone. "First, I want you to strip for me. Slowly. I want to see every inch of your body."

Your heart raced at his command, but you didn't hesitate. You reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Alex's eyes widened with appreciation at the sight of your bare chest, and you could feel his gaze burning into you. You continued to undress, shedding your pants and bra, leaving yourself only in panties.

"Turn around," he ordered, and you obeyed, presenting your back to him. He trailed his fingers down your spine, causing you to shiver with anticipation. "Now, on your knees."

You complied, sinking to the ground as he stood over you. "Good. Now, show me how much you want me." His words echoed in your mind as you knelt before him, feeling completely exposed and vulnerable.

You knew what he wanted, and a part of you was hesitant, but the desire in your body overruled any sense of hesitation. With shaky hands, you reached up to unbuckle his belt, slowly pulling it off and dropping it to the floor.

You could see the bulge in his pants growing larger, and you knew that you were the reason for it. You reached for his zipper, sliding it down and freeing him from his underwear. His arousal was undeniable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of power knowing that you were the one causing it.

With a flick of his wrist, Alex removed his shirt, revealing his toned chest and arms. He placed a hand on the back of your head, guiding you closer to him.

"Go ahead, YN," his voice low and seductive. "You wanted this, now you got it, so behave like the good little slut that you are. Don't be a brat" he said as he held your hair in a ponytail, forcing your head against his center.

You didn't hesitate, wrapping your lips around him and taking him in as deep as you could. The taste of his saltiness filled your senses, and you didn't flinch when he tightened his grip on your head. The sensation of him inside you was all-consuming, and you moaned with pleasure, sending vibrations through his body.

"Good girl," he praised, his fingers entwining in your hair. "That's it, baby, keep going."

As his member throbbed in your mouth, sending shivers down your spine, he abruptly pulled your head back, eliciting a satisfying "pop" that echoed through the room. With a devilish grin, he looked down at you and uttered, "I want it all, sweetheart. As much as I crave the idea of coating your lips and watching you gulp it down, I also want to fuck you like it's my last fucking day on earth."

The raw intensity of his words sent a surge of desire coursing through your body, making you ache for more. Without hesitation, you stood up. His hand trailed down your back, over your ass, and then swiftly removed your panties.

"Bend over the desk and spread your legs," he demanded, and you quickly obeyed, positioning yourself as he instructed. He ran his hands over your folds, feeling the wetness that had already started to pool there. "God, you're already so wet, baby," he murmured before plunging two fingers inside you. You moaned loudly as your walls tightened around him, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure.

His hot breath caressed your neck as his fingers worked you, sending shivers down your spine. "You're such a whore, aren't you? Getting turned on by me using you like this," he growled, his fingers curling inside you, pushing you closer to the edge.

As he kept working his fingers inside you, you felt the heat building up, and you knew you were on the brink of orgasm. Your moans became louder and more frequent, his name escaping your lips.

"Don't you dare come yet, YN," he growled into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Please, Alex," you pleaded, unable to resist the overwhelming need for him. "I need you inside me."

"Be a doll and beg for it, then" he commanded, his fingers moving with a mesmerizing rhythm, driving you closer to the edge.

"Please, Alex," you begged, feeling your need for him growing more urgent with each passing moment. "I need you inside me. I need to feel you filling me up."

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he said, withdrawing his fingers and positioning himself at your entrance. With a sharp slap on your ass, he quickly filled you up in one swift motion.

You gasped at the suddenness of it, feeling him stretch you to your limits. He gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back onto him with each thrust. You moaned with pleasure as he pounded into you, hitting all the right spots.

"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his pace quickening. "I can't fucking believe we haven't done this before"

You were lost in the sensations, the pleasure radiating through every nerve in your body. You pushed back against him, meeting his every thrust with eagerness and need.

He leaned over you, his hand reaching around to rub your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

"Come for me, baby," he growled in your ear. "Come all over me cock." You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pleasure building and building until it finally crashed over you in waves. You cried out his name as you came, your body convulsing around him.

He thrust a few more times before releasing himself inside you with a groan, and collapsing onto your back. Leaving both of you panting and covered in sweat.

As you caught your breath, he pulled out of you and helped you stand up, his hands still roaming over your body.

"You're so fucking amazing," he whispered, pressing kisses to your neck. You leaned back into him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

This was what you craved, the feeling of being completely dominated by him. And in that moment, you knew that you were his, completely and utterly.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, he turned you around to face him, cupping your face with his hands.

"I meant what I said earlier, YN," he said, his voice serious. "I want you to be mine. I want to take care of you and make you feel good every day."

You looked up at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I want that too, Alex," you said, smiling up at him.

He leaned in and kissed you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. As he pulled away, he looked at you with a soft expression.

"Good," he said. "Because I'm not letting you go now."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Let me know how big you guys like these things to be, please.

Hope you liked this one hehehe 💕

[hivequest]

Sprite by @erifin, BG from Befriendus

You had felt your survival instincts had been getting better recently. Really, you did! You took roads that were at least known by trolls more often but still weren't too populated to lower the risks of running into any unsavory types. You didn't throw yourself headlong into every interaction with trolls who were very likely to kill you without at least pausing at the edge of the cliff and thinking "Well this might not be a good idea."

Really any progress was good progress! However, it wasn't enough for some of your friends. Either way, you're getting sidetracked.

The point is you're walking along a beach. Which!! You know isn't the smartest idea you've had but it's not like you didn't put ANY thought into it. You made sure to watch for a long time, checking and checking again to make sure there wasn't anyone hanging around. Not even just the land-dwelling trolls. You kept an eye out the horizon for a while, waiting to see any fishy types appear from the seafoam and bubbles.

Ha. Fishy types.

But there was no one. For a long way in any direction, there wasn't a soul in sight—no one to drag you down into hitherto unknown and dangerous watery depths.

So, you were strolling. It had been a long, long time since you were able to sink your toes in the sand. You knew this wasn't Earth but the sounds of the waves felt as familiar on this planet as they did back home. It felt… nice. Like for once, you were fully able to disconnect yourself from your friendventuring and recharge by doing something that was known to you. You enjoyed Tagora's spa days and lavish self-care but that wasn't something you could afford to do back home. You hated having to budget shit.

And this whole beach was completely abandoned! It was perfect!

You were so wrapped up in boosting your mental health and enjoying the quietude of being alone that you didn't realize that you weren't anymore…

Oh, fuck me.

There was absolutely someone behind you right now, wasn't there.

Trying not to flip the fuck out right away you continued your leisurely stroll, keeping your muscles purposefully untensed. The person, monster, whatever it was stayed right behind you. Its steps matched perfectly with your own to the point that you couldn't even hear it even though it was clearly right behind you.

Shit. Fuck. Piss.

How long had it been following you? How had it gotten so close to you without your human spacial awareness kicking in to say "Hey, Chucklefuck! Someone is creeping up behind you and is getting right up into your personal bubble!"?

You didn't know. And faking nonchalance was getting harder and harder. Why wouldn't it just do something? Kill the rising tension by killing you. Something, anything!

Make a move already!

You whip around to face your impending Bad End head-on when in a fraction of a second all of that fake bravado you just built up vanishes. Swept away by the waves as cold, icy reality stares you straight in the face.

You've crossed paths with seadwellers a few times. Never have they been pleasant experiences. This was worse. A lot worse.

The troll standing in front of you isn't unreasonably tall, but he's bigger than you. The fins and gills you would expect to see on a seadweller are there, obviously, but the thing that really seals the deal is his eyes. They're fuchsia. And staring right at you.

And he looks disgusted by what he sees.

Nothing in your quest for friends could have prepared you for this. Honestly, you were fine with purple bloods being the highest-ranked troll you got to bring into your friendship fold. You doubted being complicit with Polypa murdering a violet blood would do anything to endear you to them you get the distinct impression there's nothing you could say that would endear you to the troll standing in front of you. And he was fucking fuchsia. The top of the top. Part of the brutal climb for the seat of the empire.

"Why the fuck are you here?"

Ah, a very good question! You're right, you tell him. What are you doing here? You shake your head in dismay before trying to leave. You shouldn't be here, so you'll be on your way now!

"Take another step and you'll lose the privilege of having legs."

Yikes.

You choose then to stop and turn back around to look at the boy you just tried unsuccessfully to snub. He doesn't look impressed. He actually looks even more pissed than when you first dared to look at his face. Great! You love that for yourself.

"We asked you a question, you vaguely-shaped sea slug. You will answer Us."

We? Us? You peer around him to see if he has a posse of other fish trolls like that one group you ran into with Karako. But no, it's just him. So he's talking about himself in the third person. Cool. That's cool. And not at all making you feel like your guts have turned into worms from how much of a middle-school edgelord that makes him sound.

But wait. He's a prince, isn't he? Isn't there a royal "we" or something? Isn't that a thing? Huh. And you suppose this guy just takes way too far. Makes sense from what you would expect from someone at the top of the pyramid of the bullshit roles Alternia has.

Also, you still haven't answered this guy's question, Jesus Christ.

Well, you wanted to take a nice leisurely walk on the sand, take in the sights and sounds of the sea and this beach was completely empty so…

You give a little non-committal shrug. You hope the action will convey just how pure your intentions were and just how non-threatening you as an alien were.

His eyes narrow and he just looks more annoyed.

"No one was on the beach because this whole thing is Mine."

Oh, you were trespassing. Cool! Yeah, no wonder he wasn't happy to see you.

You apologize for bumbling your way onto his property. You'll leave if he wants you to. You want him to want you to.

"No. This isn't how this works. You strolled your way onto Our beach. You don't get to fuck off as you please. And either way…"

The moonlight catches on gold and you notice something glinting in his hands that you really should have seen before. He has a fucking trident.

"You're an alien."

This guy will kill you. You can tell that away away, he is not playing any games with you about that. You've been told several times by worried friends that you're cull-on-sight and crossing the path of any highblood who has anything less than the coldest of chills, someone would take your head. And you get the feeling that to a hot pink tyrant trying to prove his worth as a ruler to the powers that be, yours would make a good trophy.

Oh, boy. Now is the time to talk and talk fast.

You know from first-hand experience that just because a troll isn't friendly doesn't mean they aren't friendable. So it's time to do what you do best.

You nod, confirming what he already knows to be true. That's right, you're an alien! He seems to know so much about you already! Has he heard about you from his friends? Or has he seen your legs trending on Chittr? Really, you feel like you're at such a disadvantage here. He knows all about you and you don't even know his name!

His gaze which was so intense and deadly has fully warped into something confused. He doesn't know what to make of you now because of the whirlwind of bullshit you just threw at him. Good! He blinks a few times; god his eyes really are pink, aren't they?

"…Our name is Amante. Amante Belico."

He tilts his head arrogantly and you make a show of bowing in front of him. He seems to like that a lot and you know you have him in your little friendship grasp now. You can feel it. Just need to stroke his ego and you can make it out of this in at least less than ten pieces!

It's an honor to meet him! You haven't encountered an esteemed fuchsiablood before, you thank him for gracing you with his presence.

"We imagine it is an honor. Don't think We don't see what you're doing here. We aren't so crammed up Our own nook We can't tell when someone is trying to stoke Our ego for their own survival."

Oh.

"Unfortunately, it will work on Us."

Hell yes.

Amante leads you down the beach a little ways back in the direction you came from. You think for a moment he's going to let you go but then he turns off the path. You panic for a second and think he's going to lead you into some dark forest and give you a vicious poking with his trident when you see what looks to be… a tea party? A picnic? He has a beautiful gazebo and patio table setup and it looks stocked up with the most decadent finger foods you've seen since you crash-landed on this planet.

You're not even joking. You've since gotten used to the fact that trolls are eating bugs and other gross stuff that you're only putting into your own body because you have to, but Amante's spread? It looks delicious. All fancy cakes with frosting, cookies, and sandwiches shaped like cuttlefish. For someone so pissy he sure has a cute lunch.

As he settles into his chair he lifts a perfect eyebrow as if daring you to say shit about it. You smartly don't and brace yourself to avoid looking at the food in front of you to not annoy your possible new friend holy shit is that a drone.

Why are there always drones?

But this one doesn't look like the others you've seen. It's…. fancier. A lot more gold and decoration than any of the ones you've seen blowing up the homes of children. Even more different than the drones you're used to, instead of trying to maim you it sets a delicate pink plate in front of you, giving you a fork and a teacup which is promptly filled with a flowery tea.

You're… allowed to eat with him?

He gives you another dour look.

"Of course you're going to eat with Us. We're not a fucking animal. We were sitting here when you passed right by like you owned the beach, actually. Which was a surprise to Us, considering you don't and We chose this particular beach to avoid you… land-dwelling types."

He punctuates his disdain with a long sip from his cup. Well, you certainly aren't going to turn down free food! You know you should show restraint and try to impress your cool new friend with well-crafted table manners but honestly… you are not going to get this again on Alternia. So you don't hesitate, bitch.

You pile your tiny plate high with as many frilly confections as you can get your hands on. Then the drone replaces what you've taken with a fresh one, which you then grab. Then that gets replaced so you grab that one. You and the drone are in a stalemate of snack stealing. Drones don't have facial features or any actual emotions as far as you know but you get the feeling that this butler-drone is getting super annoyed with you. You don't care, so you grab another cupcake and stare it down.

Amante just watches. His expression isn't amused or fond or anything that would give you a read on if he found you annoying his butler charming. He's just. Watching. Man, you thought Mallek had intense eyes but this is another level. And… he hardly blinks. He is focused entirely on you and kinda wish that he wasn't cause you are absolutely going to stuff your face in a second.

You at least try to look decent as you begin to eat and. Yeah. Yeah, this is the good stuff.

You gear up to go to town when Amante leans his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his now-interlaced fingers. Wow. His claws are long. And pink. He's all about the pink aesthetic, isn't he?

"We have questions for you, alien. You will answer them for Us, won't you?"

He phrases it like a question but his tone makes it very clear that you don't actually have a choice in the matter. So you nod, prepping for whatever heinous interrogation he's about to throw your way.

"Excellent. You see, We actually have heard about you. Or at least, We have seen your Chittr profile floating around. We didn't think much of it at the time, assuming that you would be handled by some gutter blood wanting to have some power over another life or one of the land-dwelling 'highbloods' would actually do the job we keep them around for and cull you. They've failed in this very basic expectation We held for them."

"Why haven't you been dealt with properly? It's clear that you're being protected and We want to know why and by whom."

Oh wow, he's really upset that you're alive. You can feel his annoyance, see it in the clenching of his jaw and fluttering of his face-fins.

So many people have protected you in your time on Alternia, you wouldn't know where to start! And you also… don't feel super great about giving this classist asshole the names of all your friends. You get the feeling he wouldn't do anything nice for them with that information. This particular fish prince seems more like the stab-first kind of guy and not like he's going to give them a fruit basket for their assistance.

A lot of people have pitched in to make sure you stay alive. You couldn't really give names, the people on this planet have just been so accommodating!

"You're saying that the low bloods are accommodating."

Yeah, he's not buying it.

"Well, if you say that and you really mean it… That's just a shame. For the low bloods, We mean. Because if they've allowed an alien to run around on Alternia unchecked, even worse helped them when they should have alerted the drones or dealt with it themselves…"

His clawed hand rests adoringly on his trident.

"We should have to punish them for their treason, right? Starting with whoever owns that cerulean sign you're wearing."

And just like that, your appetite is gone. It's like someone replaced all the blood in your veins with ice water. Shit. Mallek. You've been wearing his hoodie for so long that it felt normal. You forgot it broadcasted the literal identity of its owner right on the front! And you've been wearing it in front of a royal fuchsia! Why do you always end up doing stupid shit like this you feel like you're going to cry.

All it would take is a snap of his webbed fingers and Mallek's whole block would be leveled by drones. You need to change the topic, fast. You don't want one of your best friends to die because you just tried to take a stroll on the beach of all things.

So you shift forward and ask him why you surviving this long has him so interested. Surely he has better things to do.

"There is plenty We need to do. Our time is very precious but you know what else is even more precious to Us? Our job. We make sure to keep order during Our time before We die to the Empress. So to hear that an alien has been surviving and thriving under Our watch? Not a good feeling."

But still, he has to have hobbies, right? Other than terrorizing every caste without gills and fins, you mean. Has he tried painting? Bone collecting? Scrapbooking?

He leans back into his hair and thinks to himself. The fact that he's thinking about it is a good sign! His mind is getting off of murder!

"We like fashion. We're a trendsetter. Every troll wants to get their sweaty fronds on the things We wear. Some brands are brave enough to ask Us to try on somefin they've designed. If We like it, We'll keep it. Maybe take a shellfie. Then whatever they gave Us will get sold out, and the owner will be happy, We have something We enjoy for the next few weeks before We throw it out. If We don't…"

He grins, wide and sharklike. All roads lead back to murder for this guy, Christ… But he made a fish pun! He's getting more comfortable and loosening up!

He has a great sense of fashion, you say. You haven't seen any troll dressed more expensively at all, his torn-up dress looks like it could be worth more than the hives you've seen. His chest puffs out a little more and you hear a proud… rumbling? Chittering? Is he purring from being complimented?

"We know. If there is one thing We want to do, it's look like the hottest bitch around. We love getting into fights, more than anyone else, but We know We must set a glittering example for those beneath Us. And everyone is beneath Us so We go the extra mile."

Amante leans forward again, his smile a lot less dangerous now. He picks up a delicate little cake between his claws and pops it into his mouth. He notices some cream on his fingertips and without missing a beat he licks it off and-- oh.

He has a gold tongue piercing.

Neat.

You desperately grab one of the cakes from your plate and shove it into your mouth for a distraction. How did you not notice that?

Then again this troll is covered in gold jewelry so maybe it didn't register until you had to notice it. You've seen the piercings trolls have, Mallek has some in places you wouldn't normally see them, like his chest. You probably shouldn't ask Amante if he has chest piercings but now your mind is swirling with all the other places this primadonna could have decorated himself with gold and wow you really need to get your mind out of this rabbit hole fast.

You slam your head on the table, just once. Amante flinches back, eyes wide behind his glasses. Shades?

"What the fuck was that? Are you okay?"

You assure him you're fine, you just needed to derail a dangerous train of thought. He's still looking at you warily.

"Is this the kind of thing you normally do? Is this an alien thing?"

No, this was just a you thing.

"Ah, so you're just a weird little bastard all the time then. You could have lied to Us, you know. It's not like We have any other aliens to use as a reference for whatever you do. If We were in your position We would be making up whatever nonsense We wanted and passing it off as the truth. That just seems funny to Us."

You quietly tuck that idea away into the back of your mind to use later to fuck with someone. Maybe Galekh. That could be funny.

You don't think he would like that, you tell him. You get the feeling that he prefers people just to say whatever they're thinking or doing plainly to his face without sneaking around. He seems like he prefers direct answers to his questions. He hums, actually seeming impressed.

"True. We've seen too many trolls spew bilge out of their squawk gapers these days. And you were smart not to lie to Us. You wouldn't have enjoyed the consequences of that."

Exactly! That's why it was just easier to actually answer his question. Also, you're surprised he would want to play those kinds of pranks on people? Doesn't really seem like his style.

He crosses his arms.

"We were talking about hobbies and stuff, yes? We like to have fun too, you know. Our moirail often plays jokes on Us, though we often struggle to get him back."

Oh! He has a moirail! You… well, you can already guess what kind of person he would have to be to get along with someone who enjoys murdering people who can't defend themselves against him. Still! He has a moirail! He's talking to you about his boyfriend!

You try super casually to ask for more details and he seems to clam up and flush fuchsia.

"That's!! Not really your business! All you need to know is that We get along well with him and you'll probably meet him at some point! If you live that long."

Ah, another threat. This one rolls off of your back like water. For as dangerous as he is and how willing he is to do harm to others you get the feeling you know how to handle him now. Well, in a controlled picnic by the beach setting at least but still, it's something!

You could almost call this side of him charming, with the anxious way he drummed his fingers on the table and refused to look at you. You got the feeling that for as much as he was able to absolutely terrify you and would more than likely do so in the future… there might be something redeemable in there!

Or maybe not. Probably not. He seems pretty set in his murdery way as long as he gets to stay on top.

He isn't the kind of troll you would… choose to be friends with if you weren't under the active threat of being killed by him and you can't introduce him to plenty of your other friends but at least you didn't die!

Good end! (?)

[wordsandrobots]

I finished IBO recently, and I don't think I fully get why people call Mika and Orga's relationship one of "toxic codependence". That they depend on each other is obvious, but I feel like I'm missing out on why people think their relationship is unhealthy.

(Thank you for giving me a reason to procrastinate on the chapter I have nearly finished but my brain has gone 'nah' over.)

The way I look at it, there are two key levels on which it's unhealthy. These are related but I think it's worth distinguishing them, because one plays into wider problems within Tekkadan, while the other is a deeply personal matter between Orga and Mika.

But first of all, I think it's important to be clear: Orga and Mika's relationship is rooted in genuine care and affection. This is not apparent friendship built on a lie. These two really are together for life and there are many positive aspects to that. We see them joking about early on, Mika making sure Orga eats (whether he wants to or not), the ease with which they operate as a double-act -- and there's a real sense each would be dead before the series began if not for the other.

However, there is also a profound imbalance at the heart of their relationship. I've written before about how that imbalance is inverted compared to what it looks like at first glance; that is, Mika is the dominant personality, with Orga twisting to follow his wishes. At the same time, yes, Mika has absolutely outsourced his decision-making to Orga. No question. It might be Mika's desires and dreams that ultimately shape their path, but Orga is still the one making choices about where to go and who to shoot.

And it's the absolute degree of Mika's surrender that fucks Orga up. Because, to a very specific point, Mika will do exactly what Orga tells him without question. Period. Everybody else's opinions and orders are secondary to the man he's picked as his guiding star in life. I say 'man'; I mean 'boy'. This started when they were kids, after all, which is why Orga's sense of responsibility is quite so thoroughly warped.

As far as Orga is concerned, being in charge means working everything out on his own. Because Mika does not help him. Mika, at most, offers gut feelings for why something should be done; he never provides useful input on how to get from A to B. So Orga internalises that the buck stops with him, that he always has to be the decisive one, always has to have a plan.

It's masked to begin with because Biscuit is there as the angel on his other shoulder, offering useful advice and acting his second-in-command. However -- Orga never actually listens to what Biscuit has to say about the direction Tekkadan should go. That's the central tension in their relationship, in fact. Orga actively expects Biscuit to go along with what he chooses because that's what Mika does.

With Biscuit gone, there's nobody left to make even a token attempt at calling him on this tendency. Eugene utterly fails to, despite having a good set of instincts, because he's too committed to Tekkadan and too easily swayed by other people who seem to know better. Merribit gives it her best shot, but lacks the tools to approach the boys convincingly. Kudelia doesn't see it as her place. And the rest of Tekkadan fall in line over and over, reinforcing Orga's bad habits.

They trust him, is the thing. They trust him to deliver on the dreams he weaves, enough to offer up their lives on his say-so. None more than Mika himself, who literally gives an arm and a leg to make sure Orga's plans come through.

There is a point where this commitment slips out of Orga's control. I'm not sure where to pin it generally but the battle with the mobile armour is when Mikazuki makes it clear he isn't going to back down on the idea of becoming kings of Mars. He's seen Orga latch on to McGillis' offer as *the* destination, their place, where they can all be together and happy. And because he's always done whatever is necessary to see Orga's plans come through, he . . . does precisely that. Even knowing it's going to injure him further. Even with Orga literally telling him not to.

Making sure Orga gets his victory is more important.

I should stress how much this fucks Mikazuki up as well. I tend to focus a lot on Orga, but Mikazuki reduces himself down to a weapon for Orga's sake. To the point of breathing a sigh of relief once he's been sufficiently disabled he thinks he won't have a life outside Barbatos any more. Atra says at one point that Mikazuki is lazy over things that don't interest him -- that includes conceptualising an existence beyond fighting and following Orga. He does have his own dreams (being a farmer, seeing interesting sights) but actually working out how to achieve them after he's given away so much to Orga is beyond him. In the end, he simply gives them away too and chooses to keep following what he imagines Orga's orders would be.

Neither of these boys intended to do this to each other. That's the tragic part. Orga uses Mika as a weapon because it's the smart choice but it tears him up inside to see what that does to Mika as a person. Meanwhile, Mika insists what happens to him comes from his own choices and isn't something Orga should feel guilty over or see as a reason to give up.

And . . . here's where we move from the first level (Orga's no-middle-gear sense of responsibility coupled to Mika's unconditional loyalty) to the level on which Mika personally scares Orga into escalating over and over again.

It's that scene in the Montag Company ship. Or, no, it's not just that: Orga talks earlier about how he constantly feels Mika's eyes on him. Yet it's following Biscuit's death that this aspect of their relationship is laid bare.

I love this scene so much. It has the form of a triumphal rescue from grief, complete with swelling musical score, in much the way Mika often has the form of being the daring protagonist. But the content is Mika being the most blatantly scary he ever is in the entire show. The way he looks at Orga -- the way he always looks at Orga, his unblinking, uncompromising stare -- is at last framed as an overt threat. Mika is not going to let Orga give up because Orga promised to take him to the better place. What Orga wants is irrelevant.

Ah, screw it, I'm transcribing the dub script because it is so, so good.

"Tell me. What do you want me to do next, Orga?" "Hey give me a break. I'm just -" "Look I'm sorry. But I can't stop yet." "That's enough." "Now I wanna know -" "I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH -" Mika grabs Orga by the shirt, dragging him close. "Is this the place you told me about? 'Cos I won't stop. Not 'til we're there. I can't. On that day, Orga, I decided. So. How many should I kill? How many more until we get there? Because I need to know. Tell me, Orga Itsuka! You're gonna take me, aren't you? That's what you told me! What should I do next -?” "GET OFF ME! Orga throws Mika at the locker in the corner and stands up. "Yeah, alright, fine. I'll get you there. Can't turn around now anyway. That's what you want, RIGHT? No matter want kind of hell might be waiting for us. OK? Then I'll do it. And I'm bringing everyone with me." "Yeah. That's right. Take us there. So who do you need me to take out then? And what d'you want me to destroy? 'Cos if I finally get to reach that place someday, there's nothing that I won't do." SFX: lightning and thunder

This is not Mika pulling Orga out of the darkness. It's Mika driving Orga further into it, into a battle that kills dozens and very nearly ends with every single named character dead (in the real world, the commissioning of a second season saved them; in universe, it's stubbornness and pure fluke).

What would it be like to have someone so committed to what you've promised them, they would do anything for you, up to and including refusing to let you break your word? What would that be like if said person was the most dangerous individual you had ever met in your life, because there is a point past having no sense of self-preservation where no line is 'too far'?

That's Orga living with Mika as his shadow. That's not healthy. That's not sane. Orga comes loose at the seams attempting to be what Mika expects of him, and I think he's genuinely terrified of what might happen if he can't.

It goes the other way too. The scene in the ship is one of two times I'd say, yeah, that's what Mika looks like when he's scared. The other is immediately prior, when it seems Carta is going to kill Orga. 'That's what you told me' isn't just a reminder for Orga; it's the closest Mika gets to a crisis of faith. Seeing the one you believe in waver is its own form of terror and Mika has committed everything he's got to Orga. He can't conceive of stopping now.

[I should say, I primarily watched the dub and the vocal performances vary somewhat here even if the underlying intent doesn't. I love what Kyle McCarley does, injecting a note of increasing franticness into Mika's speech, but Kengo Kawanishi hits the volume rise hard on 'What should I do next?', hammering home just how much he needs an answer. Of course, they then both give Mika this deliciously bloodthirsty joy when he gets the one he's looking for.]

I don't know if there's anything Orga could do that would truly break Mika's faith or push Mika to turn that prodigious strength against him. I don't get the feeling Mika is the kind of person who'd ever hurt a friend for real. He isn't cruel and we see how much friendship matters to him (woe betide anyone who hurts the people close to him).

But what these two are actually capable of is beside the point. What matters is what they think of one another and they each think the other is the most amazing thing in existence. Orga sees Mika as near superhuman and Mika sees Orga as fantastically brilliant, and they're both afraid of being proved wrong, so they aim for an impossibility imposed by their mutual expectations.

The further they head down the shortest path to their goals, the more Mika crumbles physically and the more Orga crumbles emotionally. Like an engine shaking itself to pieces as it turns faster and faster. Love, hope, faith, determination -- and no brakes. A mad charge towards destruction.

I don't tend to describe things as 'toxic'. For whatever reason, it's not a word with much presence in my vocabulary. Still, I think it fits here. Mika and Orga's relationship might have been healthy, in a kinder world. It's undeniably the most important aspect of their lives. There's no intention on either on part to cause hurt. But the combination of who they are and the circumstances they are trapped in means they're ultimately toxic to each other.

No matter how much they care or want what's best, the very form of their relationship impedes their ability to grow, cuts them off from those who might be able to help with that, and eventually leads them to their deaths.

-----

Well, that's how I see it anyway. I hope this helped? I think Iron-Blooded Orphans does some pretty brilliant things in terms of presenting fucked-up relationships that have positive aspects while at the same time dooming the participants, so I'm always happy to ramble about that aspect of the show. Or indeed, any aspect of it at all!

[holdoncallfailed]

do you ever think about the parallels between damon and graham and paul and john? the childhood best friends and inseparable creative partners, one is the pusher for the dream, and the other one is the arty emotional live wire, the jealousy, competitiveness, emotional breakdown, and dissatisfaction/unhappiness with their dynamic. eventually, one gets a new creative partner, and the wedge becomes a chasm. yet only one of them got the opportunity to fully reconcile while the other was robbed of it.

of course, they're not the same, and the level of success does make for a lot of that separation. but I see how much time and effort it took for damon and graham to rebuild their relationship, knowing it couldn't go to what it once was but still working to repair it. glad they did, especially when you hear paul say that one should never put off telling someone you love them.

yeeeesss this has been a point of great interest for myself and certain other rpf scholars on this site (hi @elena-ferrante). watching paul in get back really reminded me of damon lol...i think it's interesting that part of the tension between d&g and j&p is that the domineering control freak "spokesman" member of the pair comes across as the one calling the shots but is in fact so full of admiration for and places such a high value on the opinion of the other that he becomes sort of deferential to him... i think they all struggle(d) with their identities and public images being intertwined. but i also think that there is/was more love between them than we could possibly understand from the outside. i really sincerely think that john and paul would have reconciled if they'd been given enough time.

speaking more broadly to your point about the wedge & the chasm: i think another thing about why bands are so interesting and why they capture the public imagination is that they frequently present this homosocial fantasy of companionship that is very much rooted in an adolescent configuration of life , i.e. hanging out with your friends all the time, doing whatever you want, responsible for only yourselves, obligated to each other out of a shared passion. and that lifestyle is not compatible with The Institution of Adulthood, i.e. stable career, marriage and family-rearing, which still feels compulsory—if not totally inescapable—for most people in [heterosexual] society. a band can be a world unto itself but it is not the real world. there are soooooooooo many examples of bands falling apart once a member gets married and/or commits to a new creative partner because that development inevitably ruins the fantasy on which the band was built, consciously or subconsciously. the real world comes careening back into focus...and you can't ever get that old life back once you've deviated from it.

i think the assumption within heterosexual society that homosociality is something that one "ages out of" is very pervasive (and homophobic, natch, but we don't have to get into that now). that homosocial relationships—or even friendships more generally—are always ultimately secondary to romantic relationships (specifically marriage) is something that i think a lot of people struggle with as they move further into adulthood (i know i am lol). it just happened on a much more drastic scale for these guys because of their fame.

also so much of the stuff in this post is very damon & graham coded...

well anyway let's all kill ourselves.

[my-mt-heart]

What really confuses me:

If there's a show that could rely solely in nostalgia it's Caryl's. Carol and Daryl's stories are the wires that cross the whole show. They were there from begging to end. Their relationship was there from begging to end. They have all the nostalgia in their favor. There could be at least 3 seasons of Caryl only dealing with past trauma, callbacks to iconic moments, and dialogues composed of memorable quotes. And yet there's so much more to tell. There is so much conflict/tension to explore and resolve.

Even more than TOWL (Rick and Michonne left TDW at some point and Richonne's relationship only started later in the show. And I think all that needed to be explored/resolved regarding them was done in the main show and in the season 1 of TOWL. There's not much conflict left)

A lot more than Dead City (Negan's most iconic moments are of when he harmed other people and he already got his redemption arc/flashbacks in TWD, so there's not a lot of trauma healing left. Meggie's most iconic moments are with her family, which is, besides her son, dead, so there's not a lot of connections nor motivation left (they can't rely on her son forever). Meggie also left at some point and her relationship with Negan only started in season 5, in a horrendous context that doesn't leave a lot of room for development (and she already forgave him in the main show). There's not much conflict left)

So what I don't understand is, with such gold material in their hands, how can they screw up so badly? Even if they were lazy, all the material was there in plain sight, they didn't have to dig it up.

Do you think I'm justified in thinking that even a child with some critical thinking could do a better job? 2. To what do you attribute this writing mess (from season 1 to season 2.6 spoilers)? Is it just plain bad writing or purposely screwing Carol/Caryl (and even in-character-Daryl)? 3. And what would they gain with failing so hard? 4. Do you think there's more investment in the other spinoffs? 5. Are you still holding on any hope they could do Caryl/Carol/Daryl justice? 6. And what would you do differently if it was you in command? 7. What's your favorite nostalgic moment you'd like to see revisited in the spinoff?

I could have sworn I posted this already, but apparently it's been in my drafts for over a month?? Anyways...

1. Yes.

2. Both. Zabel only cares about his original characters/original concept and Nicotero was put in charge during the strike

3. In their minds? Freedom to tell a story about men by men for men

4. I think AMC invests too much time trying to market every show to the built-in TWD fanbase as a whole and to new viewers (new= more dudebros) instead of accepting that each spinoff has its own core audience who connect with specific characters and growing those separate fanbases and then diversifying with viewers who can enjoy different elements without stepping on the core audience's toes.

5. They can try to slap a band-aid on things. Not sure they're motivated to do that and as long as Zabel is showrunning, pushing the friendship narrative, and shipbaiting, then there's no way Caryl/Carol/Daryl will get the storytelling they deserve.

6. In addition to giving Daryl and Carol their own character development and writing a compelling external plot (that treats the audience like they're intelligent), Caryl's relationship needs to be the emotional core of the show. We need to e x p l i c i t l y see them grow together as a romantic couple in ways that honor their shared history on the flagship show.

7. Well, the painful thing is there are so many nostalgic moments and story beats that were left unexplored between Caryl that I've been dying to see, but I don't even want Zabel to touch them because I think he'll just ruin them. He doesn't understand Caryl's story well enough to do it justice. Melissa needs more creative control.

[totally-sapphic-posts]

Quick question before you go on your Tumblr sabbatical 😉

I wanted to know your opinion on when something would be considered emotional cheating. Now obviously all things cheating and boundaries are best discussed with your partner but in this case it's a little tricky.

So I've been with my girl for a looooong time (6 years soon) and I love her very much. When you're with someone for that long it's ofc possible to still develop little crushes on other people, which is fine (we've talked about that too). However, I met this other girl about a year ago, and kept running in to her at random events/parties (not that often, just a few times) and for some reason got like full on butterflies every time I saw her. At one point she asked if I wanted to hang out some time and I told her I wasn't interested in her romantically and I had a girlfriend she said that's fine. She gave me her number to hang out as friends, but I never ended up using it cause while it seemed like a good idea at the time, it didn't feel right anymore. Then, even though I never texted her I still felt this tension whenever we were in the same room, so a few weeks ago I decided to talk to her about it. I apologised for never texting her even though I said I would and I told her I didn't think I could hang out with her just as friends cause I have feelings for her and I don't want to pursue that right now cause I'm in a wonderful relationship that I'm not willing to put on the line for anything. She told me she understood that and that she felt the same way so it was probably a good idea. Since then, I've been struggling not to think about her, but I am actively choosing not to pursue anything and not text her or slide into her dms.

I love my girl and this doesn't change anything about that, but I have been feeling very guilty for having those other feelings, even though I can't help it. I haven't told her about any of this because I know it would just make her worry and get jealous and stuff even though nothing is going to happen anyways. So now my question is: would you say this is emotional cheating?

Can I just say (unpopular opinion maybe) that I really commend you for not telling your girlfriend because you know this situation won’t go any further and know that telling her could just cause unnecessary stress and tension for her when it’s out of her control and she can’t really do anything about it.

Also, this is not emotional cheating. At all. You haven’t texted the other woman, you haven’t tried a friendship with the woman whilst you’ve had these feelings.

What would be emotional cheating is if you’d texted her, and built a relationship there (friendship or otherwise) because of your feelings. Even if you weren’t intending on physically cheating, posting that friendship would’ve been emotional cheating.

A lot of what love becomes (I’m sure you know already at this 6 year point in your relationship) is a choice. You aren’t always at this peak of emotional love for partners, it fluctuates. But we choose to love someone. And that means so much more. And you’ve clearly chosen to love your girlfriend and you are choosing to remain faithful to her.

Hope this helps ♡ and good luck, anon. Don’t hesitate to send in another ask if you need/want to.

[fandomworld9728]

Letters to Emily - Chapter 1:

Dear Emily,

It's been almost a year since the Extermination Day battle here at the hotel and I wanted to tell you about all the new things that have happened since then! The hotel had been left in ruin and we lost two of our dear friends in the battle, Dazzle and Sir Pentious. However, we continue to push forward and remember the good memories they left with us and the sacrifices they made for us.

We actually rebuilt the hotel! It's a lot bigger than before. Dad helped us and did a majority of the work with his powers, so we got it done in no time! We've been working on an open house/opening day party to get the word out around Hell. Alastor and his friend Rosie have even been giving us tips on how to work around the other Overlords to not cause too much trouble with them.

It's slow going, but that's fine. With the Exterminations currently on pause, we don't have to rush and worry about our safety at the hands of the Angelic Army. Not to mention, all good things take time. As they say, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Oh! Vaggie got her wings back! I get to watch dad and her fly around the hotel now that he lives with us here. He's even been teaching me how to properly groom Vaggie's wings. Speaking of my dad, he's been working hard to fix all the problems of Hell that he's been neglecting since him and mom drifted apart. It got worse after she just left. But something's shifted and he's been taking better care of himself.

He still has really bad depression days, but they're few and far between now. I'm pretty sure all of these new changes in him have something to do with the new friendship him and Alastor have. I'm not sure how it happened since they used to hate each other. Always at each other's throats. At some point though, their arguments are more teasing and done just for the fun of it.

Not to mention that whenever they get into actual fights, they take it away from the hotel as to not hurt anyone by accident and don't damage the hotel in the process. They come back together, covered in different injuries and blood, laughing and discussing what the other could have done better during the fight. Come to think of it, they're usually with each other. I've seen them cooking together, they pick each other all the time for bonding exercises when I let them pick, and on more than one occasion I've caught dad asleep in Alastor's radio tower.

I'm really happy they're getting along now! Especially since it helps with the tension now that Adam is a sinner and staying with us at the hotel. Things got off to a rough start, however, dad and Vaggie stood up for him knowing the pain of being kicked out of Heaven. After they helped him adjust, we all had a talk about it. Which ended up turning into a fight.

I'm not usually a fan of that, although, it seemed to be just what they all needed. Things aren't great between Adam and everyone, but it's a step in the right direction. Him and dad are actually bonding now! Becoming friends again, like in the good days in the garden before everything went wrong between them. I'll keep you updated on the hotel's progress and eagerly await your response. I can't to hear about how things are for you!

With love, your friend, Charlie Morningstar

~

"Okay guys, get in place while I set up the camera!"

"Charolette, is it really necessary for me to be in this photograph?"

"Come on, Al, you can suck it up for one picture. This is going to that nice Seraphim girl and will be hung up in the hotel. At least let Charlie have one clear photo of you."

"I don't believe that is- would you stop that?"

Giving his best puppy dog eyes up at the Overlord, Lucifer tried his best to play innocent. "Stop what? I'm just making a request. As your king and friend."

"Don't do it, Alastor. Be strong." 

Placing a hand on Husk's mouth, Angel Dust cheered the smaller man on. They all knew Alastor was a sucker for the Morningstar begging eyes. "Nah, just give in! It's a game ya know you're gonna lose so don't fight it!"

Watching her friends and family with a small, warm smile, Charlie got the camera set and ran over to join them. "Okay everyone! Say cheese!"

"Cheese? Why-" Before he could finish his question, Adam tripped over his new tail he had been trying to get used to, sending everyone toppling over as the camera went off.

Next >

[scullymurphy]

I’ve just finished BL/FD and they have moved to the top of my all time favorite fanfics. I am going to immediately reread them because the stories and characters were so rich and so moving. I have felt all the feels while reading these stories.

I never knew how much I needed a Hermione/Lavender BFF love story until you gave it to me! She has now become one of my favorite characters. I adore the friendship they built through these two stories. What a beautiful balance and compliment they were to each other!

The dual POV kept me on the edge of my seat and rooting for Draco and Hermione throughout. The tension and attraction and passion you were able to convey was palpable. The pain and angst of the love triangle felt so very real. I think it triggered my own memories of that time in life.

And Theo…my god, Theo! 😍🥹

I didn’t think anyone could replace Draco or Rhysand as my absolute favorite book boyfriend and then you gave me this version of Theo. This funny, beautiful, vulnerable, supportive gem of a human and now I have an obsession with Theo. I can’t get enough of him!

While I ultimately knew he would end up with Daphne and Draco would end with Hermione, and that was as it should be, I was absolutely devastated when things ended between him and Hermione. It brought me to literal tears when he left her to go and comfort Daph bc I knew it was the beginning of the end. They were just so good together. 🥹

With Lavender’s divination background and her cryptic statements about choosing a different path I kept wondering if there would be an epilogue or extra Lavender POV chapter where she has a vision of H and T choosing each other and what that path would have looked like. Does that exist somewhere and I just haven’t found it yet?

This is how consumed I’ve been with this story…I had a dream last night that there was an epilogue that flashed forward like 30 something yrs. After long and beautiful marriages, T & H have both become widowed and they find comfort and healing with one another again. Their paths finally reunite and their love story has its turn. But alas I woke up, finished the book and it was not to be.

All this to say, I would love for you to revisit this world again some day. These characters are beautifully written! I love them all! Thank you

Thank you SO MUCH for this beautiful comment. I can't tell you how much it means to me that the stories touched you in this way. You even DREAMED about them! And to class my Theo with Rhysand!!?? I die! I die! I love Rhys so much too -- it's kind of a problem because I compulsively re-read his scenes. In fact, I read the ACOTAR series right around the time I was writing BL and FD, so there may be a little of Rhys's charm in Theo! I like this theory...

And as for your questions and intuitions about the continuation of this story, I can tell you that I do have a pretty strong headcanon for what happens down the road. I even have a rough outline/zero draft of what could be a third installment someday. I'm still waiting for the time to be ripe to start writing it, although I can't definitively promise it will ever happen. Part of me thinks I should just leave it as-is and let everyone have their own ideas about how it turns out. Also, I'm currently shopping an OC novel around for representation, drafting another OC romance, and preparing to launch a detective noir Dramione multi-chap WIP tomorrow (you heard it here first!!). So my plate is pretty full, lol. But someday, maybe someday. I do miss that world so much and would love to hang out with those characters again.

Anyway, thanks again for coming all the way to Tumblr to tell me that you loved the stories. Your words really touched me. 🥰🥹 xoxo ~ Scully