#don't know how they could have translated 'shitty'

[beheworthy]

In the English version, the kiss scene in the ship goes like this:

THOR: How are you feeling? JANE: Shitty. And you? T: Shitty. J: How shitty? T: Really shitty. J: Alright. *Kiss*

But in the Hindi version here, they translated it to:

THOR: How are you feeling? JANE: Like my heart's breaking. What about your heart? T: Broken. J: How broken? T: Absolutely shattered. J: Alright. *Kiss*

I just !!!! That has so much more meaning. Thank you for making it better. Now I understand why Hindi viewers were going crazy over Thor saying his heart's broken. And I was wondering where did he say that.

[unhonestlymirror]

I studied German for 5 years at school and it's still worse than my Lithuanian

[theconcealedweapon]

When a child is smart and gets good grades but struggles to socialize, they're often told something like "just wait until you're an adult, you'll be rich and people will like you easily, and those people who don't like you now will be working for you".

This is shitty advice for so many reasons.

They may not actually be as smart as you think. They may just have a special interest that causes them to notice a few extra patterns while they struggle intellectually in other ways. This could put an unreasonable amount of pressure on them, causing them to become burned out.

They may be unknowingly giving people a good reason to not like them, which is very common for autistic people who struggle to understand social rules or who don't realize that what they're doing is wrong because it's exactly what's done to them. If you convince them that everyone who doesn't like them is just jealous of how smart they are, then people will still continue to dislike them just as much as before but now everyone will think they're conceited on top of it.

Their smartness won't necessarily translate into a career. Even someone who's a total genius could easily have skills that are not specific enough to be useful for a career, or can struggle to market those skills in an interview. It's also very hard to get a good paying job without experience. For those who struggle in social situations, that's extremely likely.

It's not reasonable to expect them to just sit back and tolerate being disliked for their entire childhood and however long into adulthood it takes for them to become financially successful. They may decide that it's not worth it and stop trying. They may intentionally start acting dumb because they think people will like them more.

If your prediction comes true, they'll be surrounded by gold diggers who only like them for their money. And if they have a disability that affects their social skills, they won't know when someone is taking advantage of them.

You're promoting the belief that rich people earned their riches and that underpaid employees are experiencing karma.

[faetreides]

summary: rafe cameron x afab maid!reader

cw: titfucking, rimming/ass eating, collaring, power imbalance/dubcon, no real face slapping but reader gets rafe’s rings pressed into their face, gun mentions, rafe talks about wanting to do a line off reader’s tits, throwaway implication that his dad saw you, general rafe-esque warnings 💀, very plotless & possibly ooc (i’m new to the show but i’ve been lurking for a bit), rafe spits on reader, slight dumbification/objectification, hate sex coded but that's more bc i have a love/hate relationship with rafe, he calls reader a bitch once and a also a slut once, use of good girl

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not translate, repost, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

This stupid carpet is hell on your knees. Not that there was any time to pull a pillow down under them, you were pulled into the room and shoved down so fast you got dizzy. You’re brought out of your ruminations by a rough palm seizing your face in its grasp and squeezing. 

Rafe huffs, leaning forward to make sure he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened as his fingers tightened. His gaudy rings are going to leave impressions on your cheeks but it’s hard to care about that right now. One second, you’re dusting off the son of your employer’s bedroom, and the next you’re getting a wad of split slung on your face. 

Your pussy decides to be a traitor and clench in response. 

“Sorry ‘bout that………” Rafe trails off, flicking the spit off your cheek like he was picking at a persistent hangnail. 

The apology is as insincere as it could be but something about the bored inflection in his tone gets you wet. 

“It’s fine.” Your “ice princess facade” as he’s called it  falls apart a tad, an embarrassing heat blooming throughout your face. 

He seems satisfied with his attempt at amateur art and scoops the rest up with two of his fingers. He doesn’t ask you to clean them off, just shoves them in between your plump lips without a word. 

“You’re so fuckin’ messy, being such a shitty maid right now, you know that, babe?” He hums, giving your face one final squeeze. 

You’re not even sure he knows your name, he sure doesn’t act like it. All he does is coo at you condescendingly as you suckle on his fingers, telling you how much better you are at this. Once you’ve done an adequate job of polishing them off, he pulls the digits away and gives you a weak love tap. Rafe’s obviously wanting to wring something else out of you. 

You hate that your first instinct is to say “Yes, sir?” 

You also hate that it’s what actually fucking comes out of your mouth. 

The grin that splits his mouth reminds you of the only time you’ve ever successfully caught a mouse in an old fashioned trap. A vermin that used to disgust you until it stayed and you gave it a name. And then your mom has to turn you away from the sight of Jacque’s tiny body cleaved in two. 

“Get those fucking clothes off, now.” He orders you, palming himself through his khakis. "And toys don't talk back."

You roll your eyes and comply. You ignore Rafe's ramblings about how he wished his dad made you wear one of those skimpy made costumes without underwear, that he way he could stare at your pussy whenever you bent over. The door is wide open, you know you could just make a break for it if you wanted. But you kind of like how the humiliation twists your stomach in a knot. The air in the room gets so much hotter when you focus on the large bulge in front of your face.

As soon as your uniform is lying on the hardwood floor in a rumpled heap, your tits are being squished together. Rafe takes several moments to weigh each globe of flesh in his hands.

"Pretty tits, always wondered what they looked like under that stupid uniform. Wanted to make a mess of you so bad but you had to be all fuckin' stuck up and prissy." He hisses, digging his nails into your breasts.

He massages them in circular motions, forcing them to press together like he could cum untouched to the sight of it alone.

You obediently stay silent as you watch Rafe stagger to his feet and wrestle his leather belt out of his pants. His bottom lip is being toyed with to the point that tiny drops of blood are peeking out of the skin. The leather makes a thwack! sound as it passes through the final belt loop and flops around. Rafe continues to eye your tits like a hawk as he wraps the belt around his hand and kneels down to your level.

He tilts your head up with one finger under your chin, "This is going around your neck, okay? I don't have a leash to go with it, but I'll get one for next time."

You open your mouth to speak or maybe to moan at the vision of the expensive leather tensely coiled around your vulnerable neck like a snake about to strike. The warning look he gives you shut you up, but your damp panties made you want to push him further.

"Don't move a muscle."

The belt was warm to the touch, probably because of all the hours Rafe had spent on the golf course or wherever his "business" takes him. You stay perfectly still as he curled it around your neck, having to wrap it around you again due to the length. The metal belt buckle clicked as he fastens it, tugging it firmly to test how tight it was. It definitely feels like a weight baring down on you, but you seem to be able to breathe so he steps back again.

"There we go, pretty bitch just for me."

His pants fall to the ground unceremoniously, revealing the cock you may have had a stray wet dream or two about. Crowned by neatly and clearly obsessively trimmed hair, it looks about 7 inches and thicker than your forearm. His cock has a slight left curve, with a couple prominent veins and an almost reddish-pink colored tip that puffs out at the sides a bit.

Rafe's cockhead catches the drool that embarrassingly leaks out of your mouth, and you kitten lick the slit as you stare up at him through your lashes. You want to smile at the punched-out groan emanating from above you, but he might slap you for getting cocky, it wouldn't be unwelcome.

"You like it, babe? Yeah, I bet you do."

He brings your hands up to your tits and you pick up on what he wants you to do. Anticipating Rafe Cameron's needs is part of your job after all. You scrape the sides of your chipped painted nails against them as you softly cup and squish the globes together, creating a perfect pocket for him.

"Good girl." He chuckles, ruffling your hair like you were his pet.

He savors the wet slide of his cock through the valley of your breasts. You hold them impossibly closer together, ignoring the discomfort by getting lost in the game of peek a boo his tip is playing with you during every thrust. A near constant stream of precum is flowing from the silt and ending up all over the tops of your tits.

Rafe pants as he speeds up his thrusts, his pupils expanding as he takes in the spectacle of you hot dogging him with your tits. For how preppy he likes to act sometimes, he sure does seem to enjoy painting you with his bodily fluids. He weaves his hands down from their deadly hold on your hair to pinch and flick your nipples.

" 'G-gonna cream all over these gorgeous tits, get them messy, then snort some coke off your nipples after.”

It doesn't take as long as a man like him would prefer before he's spilling all over your heaving chest with a sound so inhuman you'd think he was possessed.

You're past caring if he sees you hungrily open your mouth as wide as possible in the hopes of catching some of his cum in your mouth. You grind your sopping wet cunt against the floor when you do, and fuck it tastes better than it has any right to.

A quiet 'shit' rings out and the room spins as you're swiftly flipped on your stomach. Rafe crowds behind you and yanks your hips up. You don't think much of it until you feel warm breath on your ass. You jolt in surprise, and he gives you a light smack on both cheeks before spreading them with his thumb.

"Bet you thought I wanted your pussy, huh? Well, this tiny hole right here looks much cuter, you can't blame me. We'll get you some cute plugs." Followed by a flat tongue licking a stripe over your rim. He gives your hole a strangely soft peck and then teases the tip of his tongue past the entrance.

You squeal, which you'd be mortified by if the sensation of Rafe's tongue filling up your ass didn't feel so good. The way he curls it and jabs it deeper between your cheeks in short busts is running a huge risk of causing you to go insane. It's like he's exploring every nook and cranny, you should be laughing because the man that treats you like a back-alley whore is up to his ears in your ass. His groans and grunts are muffled but they give you the confidence to be louder.

He drags his face away and hangs his tongue over you until a load of saliva drips down onto you. You shiver when it meets your hole. A high-pitched moan comes out when he massages it into the puckered skin with his thumb.

He dots sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down your rim, nipping the flesh as he goes.

"I would say it's gonna be too tight, but sluts like you can take anything, right?"

You're too busy nodding to notice the sound of shoes hitting the floor in their rush to get away, or that the person wearing them softly closes the door behind them.

[missmonsters2]

Your Touch is My Shelter

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: 6 months later, Natasha returns from the dead. It's a tightly kept secret as it's unknown how she returned, but everyone claws and fights about who will keep watch over her like savages. You're far down the list of people who should protect her, but you find yourself unable to leave her be.

Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort. undisclosed trauma. physical and mental signs of trauma. angst. somber assisted bath time. sad hair braiding. emphasis on hurt AND comfort.

Note: This takes place after endgame :-) the dates might be inaccurate idk i did my best 🥲 ha-ha enjoy 👁️👁️

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 5.2k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You heard the news through Bruce. 

Well, it was through Bruce telling Pepper, and you just happened to be at the coffee machine getting shitty coffee. The quality drastically dropped since Tony was gone, and you've been putting off telling Pepper she needed to literally buy anything else. 

You didn't really know how long was the appropriate time for someone to grieve before you could ask if they could buy another brand of coffee.

Tony was gone. 

A part of you thinks you keep putting off telling Pepper because then you'd have to face—really face—he was gone. 

Steve was gone. 

What did it matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Coffee was just coffee, and it'd probably taste fine if you just put a shitload of sugar and creamer in it. 

Vision was gone. 

Honestly, you only really noticed because it was the same brand as whatever was stocked up at the Avengers Compound. 

Natasha was gone. 

But perhaps the coffee always tasted bad at the Compound and it had nothing to do with Tony being gone. Natasha used to bring coffee into the office most days for people, and Clint filled in the other days. 

Maybe Tony Stark just liked shitty coffee, and you were only now just noticing it. 

Natasha was back. 

Your hand faltered at the coffee machine, spilling a little of it on your hand, and the burn stung immediately.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked as he noticed you inhale a sharp breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at him before looking at Pepper. "Morgan's fine. She just has the flu and her fever's gone down. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'm going to set up a humidifier for her and help her settle into bed with a movie and wait for her to fall asleep before I head out."

Pepper let out a heavy breath, putting her hand over her chest in relief. "Oh, perfect. Thank you so much for coming suddenly. I just—Morgan doesn't really like going to the hospital, and suddenly she started throwing up and having a fever—"

"It's fine, Pepper," you waved off her ramblings after you wiped what you spilled on the counter. "You can always call me if you need me."

"Seriously, I think I might just employ you full-time as a live-in doctor if you say that," Pepper joked, and you laughed. 

"I am already your live-in doctor, just for one of your research labs. instead."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You don't think about Natasha—at least, you try not to. 

You heard things here and there about it through Pepper. Apparently, she's being held in a government facility similar to The Raft, detained like some criminal they needed to study instead of the war hero who sacrificed everything to save the world. 

It made you sick to your stomach. 

But you hear that Clint, Bruce, and Nick Fury have been fighting to get custody of her, so you don't think about it. There were people who knew Natasha far better than you did and were way closer to her than you were. 

She was in good hands. 

So, you continue on with your daily routine to pass your monotonous days, unaware you're waiting for some kind of update.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next time you heard about Natasha Romanoff, it was Clint and Bruce cornering you at your lab.

"What?" You panicked, tensing up. "Why me?"

"You're the only person Natasha ever sought out to treat her," Clint answered, and you felt even more lost at the fact he knew. "Natasha allows medical professionals onsite to help her, but there were times she left to go see you. That has to mean something."

But, of course, he knew. He was Natasha's...best friend. And Clint was an incredibly nosy person, even if Natasha didn't tell him. 

"I've only treated her a handful of times—literally only five times. I don't know her that well," you shook your head, trying to walk around them. "I didn't even know she had a sister until you told me."

"Please," Clint begged. "I'm fighting to get her out, and the doctors they have looking after her are shady and callous with her. I can only visit her with Nick's influence, but it's not enough to get her out of there."

"And what do you suppose I can do?"

"You're a renowned cellular biologist," Bruce cut in. "If they're holding her for research, we want someone on our side who will at least treat her like a human being. The faster we get answers, the faster we can get her out."

"Please," Clint begged again. "Natasha needs help. She's...different. And it's only going to get worse if she remains in there. She's not talking, and they won't let her go until they can find some answers."

It felt wrong. 

You don't want to study Natasha Romanoff like an animal. Despite being a scientist with an inquisitive mind, you don't care about how she returned.

But it sounded like Natasha would be researched whether you liked it or not. And if that was the case, you do wonder how the other doctors may be treating her.

"Fine, we're going first thing in the morning," you gritted out, unable to block out the handful of memories of times you've treated her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2012

"Oo, that looks painful," you hissed in sympathy as a redhead with a busted lip and nasty gash on her temple entered the med bay.

There was a snort that sounded like a half-grunt. "It looks worse than it feels. I hope I'm not intruding, but Tony said I should see you to be treated."

"Natasha, right?" You asked slowly, gesturing to a seat for her to take as you grabbed some medical supplies. 

"Yes," Natasha replied, equally slow with caution.

"Tony talks about you a lot," you tried to reassure her of whatever paranoia she might have. It probably didn't help that Natasha was still in her catsuit and probably would've preferred to be called by her alias.

"Well, don't believe everything he says," Natasha gives a light but somewhat tight smile. 

"Oh, so you aren't a unique woman with high intellect, sneaky, and rightfully smug?" You teased, and it was flattering that you could make a superhero laugh. 

You began treating Natasha's wound carefully. 

"You're pretty good at this, doc," Natasha commented as you blew on her brow, even if it didn't sting. "You're pretty gentle. Must be why Tony says you're his personal doctor."

You chuckled. "I'm actually a cellular biologist. Tony is funding my research and pretty much my lifestyle. With the money he's paying me, he can come crying about his boo-boos anytime. Although, he doesn't really come to me for serious stuff. It's usually if he has something ridiculous like a papercut."

"But you can treat wounds and other medical things?" 

"I was on my way to becoming a medical doctor before I decided to go into research instead."

"Huh," Natasha hummed, raising her brow at you. "Smart cookie."

"I'd like to think so," you finished cleaning Natasha's wound and putting a bandaid over it. "Feel free to come see me if you need any other basic medical aid. For a pretty redhead, it's free of charge."

"And if I come back blonde?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you smiled, and Natasha smirked back at you.

"Smart and funny. Tony has it too good."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

April 2014

"This is the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Who did you go to see for this? A grocery clerk?"

Natasha grunted. "Hi, to you too, doc."

You looked at Natasha, noticing how different her hair is now. But it's been about two years since you have seen her. Despite your offer for her to come to you anytime she needed help, she never did. Or she rarely did, you supposed. 

You could only deduce that Natasha was used to caring for her wounds on her own. That, or she didn't trust you. 

"Alright, let's go to my office," you sighed. 

"Am I interrupting?"

"Not really, kind of hit a brick wall."

"Oh, me too."

You looked over at Natasha, who had a straight face, but you noticed the bruise on her temple outside the obvious gun wound on her shoulder.

You pursed your lips. "Will you hate me if I laugh?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I may like you less if you don't."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2015

"You know, when I told you that you could come for me for basic medical aid, I feel like you didn't understand the meaning of basic."

"Is this too complicated for you?"

"No."

"Then am I unwelcomed?"

You pursed your lips at the redhead, who stared at you with a tiny upward quirk on her lip. "No," you sighed. "Just not sure why you'd want to see me for such serious wounds. There are other more experienced doctors."

You lift Natasha's shirt up, looking at the long gash on the side of her stomach. "We're gonna need to stitch this up. I've been doing research with Dr. Cho, and we have a new machine that can help with cell tissue generation. It would be faster than me manually stitching—"

"It's fine," Natasha declined. "I'd prefer if you manually did it."

You frown lightly at the fact but relent to the redhead's wishes. Another year passes, and Natasha's hair has changed again. 

You worked silently on cleaning Natasha's wound, and she also declined the anesthetic. You focus on stitching up the wound with precision and care.

"I like to go to you for some things because your touch is gentle," Natasha said quietly, but it felt so loud in the silent room. "It makes me feel human when I can feel your touch."

You looked over at her face briefly, but Natasha wasn't looking at you. You don't take any deeper meaning into it. She's someone who's probably felt dehumanized most of her life. The machines that can heal her twice as fast would be fine for life-threatening injuries, but it probably all feels clinical. 

You looked back down at the stitch. "Well, as long as you're a redhead, it's free of charge."

"Don't kid yourself, I would look perfect blonde."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

September 2016

"What are you doing here?" You hissed as you pulled Natasha in quickly, peering outside before shutting the door. 

"Why? Am I unwelcomed now?" Natasha's tone sounded a little hurt, and you scan her body. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere that required immediate attention, but you did notice crusted blood at the edge of her nostrils. 

"No, but you could get caught here," you shook your head at her. "They're looking for you and the rest of team cap everywhere."

Natasha shrugged. "I highly doubt Tony has your place under surveillance. We don't meet enough for anyone to consider looking for me through you."

You sighed, not sure what to feel about the statement. "I suppose. I don't work for Tony anymore, anyway."

Natasha's brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"I don't agree with what he's doing."

"So you're on Steve's side?"

"No, I think Steve was obstinate too. They're both stupid. Men are stupid."

Natasha laughed before wincing as she held her nose.

"What happened?" You brought her over to your couch before finding your first aid kit.

"I broke my nose," Natasha shrugged. "Can you believe breaking my nose saved millions of girls?"

"With you? Yes." You smirked as you tilted her head to look at the injury closer. "Lucky you. Looks like you don't need surgery. Do you always come here immediately after you save the world?"

"Yep."

"Couldn't even clean your nose before you did?"

"And deprive you of giving me care? I wouldn't dare."

You snorted, carefully cleaning the blood in and around her nose. It was silent again before Natasha spoke up.

"So, what happened with your research stuff now that Tony's not sponsoring your work?"

"Pepper is funding it, even though she knows I won't share anything with Stark Industries at the moment. She doesn't want me to sell my research or provide any data to other companies."

"Smart cookie."

"And a really hot blonde."

"This feels targeted. It's like you know I might dye my hair blonde soon."

"You're still a redhead; I have no idea what you mean. I like your hair, though. Braids look good on you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2018

Natasha showed up at your front step, holding her rib. There's a look of genuine relief at seeing you.

"You're still here," her voice sounds empty and hollow. "You're still here."

You pulled her inside gently. You're still in shock yourself. You were on a walk when people started disappearing left and right. The sheer panic on the streets was chaos as you were dialing Pepper frantically, almost crying when she picked up the phone. Then there were actual tears when you called other people in your life, and half of them didn't pick up...and they weren't going to. 

"I'm here," you swallowed. "What happened to your rib?"

"I don't know." Natasha looked so lost. There was the look of failure and self-blame all over her face. 

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't know."

You grasp her wrist, carefully moving her hand away from her rib before gently putting your fingertips against them. Your fingers trail up, down, and around. 

Suddenly, Natasha broke into tears. 

"Does it hurt?" You asked, panicked.

"You're still here," was all Natasha choked through her tears.

You didn't know what to do other than treat her wounds more gently than ever before while reassuring her you hadn't disappeared. You were one of the many people on this planet still here. And when she was better, she'd get the rest of them back. 

It was a long and exhausting night, and Natasha fell asleep in your bed, and you made sure she was comfortable before leaving to sleep on the couch.

Natasha's hair has changed again.

"You look good blonde."

That was the last time you saw her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha's hair has changed again. She's gone back to being a redhead with blonde tips. Her hair was a mess, barely brushed, and looked knotted. 

The room was big and had padded walls, a singular bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in another. There were lights in parts of the cell but also areas of darkness. It looked like a fucking prison cell. 

You were looking through an unbreakable glass window, the middle holding up a microphone you assumed was linked to the speaker in the room.

Natasha stood in the middle of the room under the light in a hospital gown falling off her shoulder. Her hands were covered in scars, and her lips were so chapped, you were sure they'd split even if Natasha breathed the wrong way. 

Natasha was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like she was a million miles away.

They let you see her alone under the guise of privacy as you saw her.

You felt you weren't supposed to see this—see her like this. 

A sense of dread filled you at the blank expression on Natasha's face at what she'd gone through—what she was still going through. 

She was a hero, and this was how they were treating her? This was someone who had fought wars repeatedly for this stupid country and the rest of the world, and they had her locked up like a mental ward patient from the 1600s.

You thought the government had gotten better. There were reforms and peace after people came back from the snap. This wasn't how they were supposed to treat someone who'd given up their life to ensure everyone got theirs. 

It shouldn't matter that she came back; she had still given it up in the first place for them. 

Natasha didn't even seem to recognize you through the glass as you stepped closer to the microphone. She looked past you as if she could tell the exit was somewhere behind you. 

"Natasha?" You said into the mic, and it bellowed into the room.

Nothing. 

"Nat?" 

Natasha's eyes were listless. She was a broken, empty shell that seemed more like an animated corpse than actually being alive.

You swallowed, trying one more time. "You're still a redhead. Looks like it's still free of charge."

Natasha's eyes flickered this time, her head tilts towards you as she blinked with focus. It was just a spark, but it was something, and relief spreads through you. 

"Not completely." You could barely hear her voice, but it was coarse. Cold.

There should've been a joke about some kind of discount, but Natasha didn't make it. You were speechless.

You didn't know what to say. Don't worry, you're trapped in here, but I'm going to help with the research, and hopefully, we'll get you out soon?

It was like prolonging a death sentence. You were horrified.

"Just—wait for me," the words flew out of your mouth so fast but you meant them with every ounce of your being. "You're gonna go home with me today."

Natasha's eyes sparked at the words but just as quick as you saw it, they died out, falling back into listlessness. She turned, stepping into a darkened corner away from your view and prying eyes of the cameras as she said, "No, I'm not."

You realized she's probably spent weeks watching Clint, Bruce, and Fury try to get her out unsuccessfully.

The resignation made something lurch in your throat and eyes sting with desperation and rage. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, we can send you a contract—"

"You're going to release her to my custody," you cut off some government official. He was old, wearing some kind of toupee that was slicked back to hide his balding head. 

He looked at you in disbelief, almost laughing like you were some stupid, naive young girl. 

He looks at Clint and Bruce, who are also just looking at you in shock.

"As I've told your friends and Nick Fury, this is out of their hands. The Accords are still intact as of right now, therefore—"

"I don't care about the Accords. You will release her into my care. I'm more than qualified and I have the resources to find the inane answers you're looking for while rehabilitating Agent Romanoff," you cut him off again, able to tell that it was irking him. 

"That won't be necessary as you can see we have the resources here," the government official raised his brow at you.

"Your resources can't compete with Stark's resources."

It was no secret that Tony had left a very sizable fortune to you in his will, outside of everything he gave to Pepper and Morgan. And it was also no secret how close you were with the surviving Starks. 

"Doctor," the government official sighed, obviously making it sound like you were a nuisance. "If you're not here to join our research team, I suggest you go on your way and remember the NDA you signed."

You glared at him even more. "I'm not leaving without Agent Romanoff. You will hand her over to me, or you will regret it."

"And exactly how will I regret it?" The government official looked smug, and you smirked back at him.

"I'm still in talks with the government regarding my research, and I will pull out and sell that information outside of this country as I'm free to do so. I know Dr. Cho is in talks between the US and South Korea about her nano-technology. One word from me, and America can fall behind on those advancements as well." You pulled out your cell phone in a threatening manner. "Pepper and I will pull out all of our money from the very same banks and company investments that you're supporting and make you watch as they collapse one after another."

"You'd ruin our entire economy—our country by doing so!" The official was red in the face. "You'd put your entire country into chaos?" He sneered at you.

"I will if you don't give me Agent Romanoff!" You sneered back at him. "It's not like you won't eventually get your research and answers if she's in my custody. It works in both our favor."

The official is staring at you, glaring and seething.

"I imagine your colleagues and superiors will pin the blame on you if this entire economy and country goes into ruin because if I have to do that, I will say that it's the government's fault. The NDA said I can't specifically talk about Natasha and this place, which I won't. But I'm sure some journalist will discover the truth and plaster all over the news what you're doing to a war hero," your voice was so vindictive; you're not sure if you've ever been so cold before. 

"So," your voice was flat, devoid of emotion now. "What will it be?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was agreed that Natasha would stay in a cabin that Pepper owned out in the countryside. You were to provide monthly updates on your research and rehabilitation progress. And while this was in headway, neither you nor Natasha was free to leave the country or this planet. 

Clint initially wanted you and Natasha to stay with him and his family, but you declined. You pointed out that it would be hard for him and his family—his children, especially—to see Natasha like this. 

Pepper had everything prepared while you gingerly collected Natasha.

"We're going home, Natasha," you said softly, shrugging off your jacket to wrap around her shoulders. But Natasha still didn't react, even if she let you take her hand and drag her out of the facility. 

During the car ride, you mentally planned what you needed to do. Natasha needed to eat, take a bath, and rest. 

"Have you eaten yet?" You asked the redhead, sitting stoically in the car, straight as a rod. 

There was no answer. Natasha was peering out the windshield, her hands perfectly on both thighs. Clint looked worried as he looked at you.

"Natasha?" You gently placed her hand over hers. You could feel the bumps of the white scars over her hand. A part of you is too frightened to ask where she got these from. 

Natasha looked down at your hand over hers before looking at you. Her eyes were so empty. Such a dull green like dying grass.

"Did you eat?" 

Natasha nodded once before looking back outside the windshield. 

You looked at Clint, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but deep down, you were afraid you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Pepper says you've been here before, but let me know if you need help finding anything," you brought her into the house where Natasha just stood, looking at nothing in particular. 

"Um," you took a shaky breath. "How about a bath? I'm sure it'll be good to get the grime and stale air off of you." 

Natasha didn't move on her own, so you began to lead her up the stairs to the bathroom. 

It was a detached tub near the high window to get plenty of sunlight without anyone being able to peer in. 

"I'll just get this started for you," you offered. Turning on the tap and pouring in a liquid that formed into bubbles. "Just make sure to check the temperature and adjust. Pepper says that sometimes that faucet can be a little finicky."

You turned to Natasha, who stood there, staring at the wall. She was unmoving, making no gesture if she was waiting for you to get out or to start undressing.

"Do you, um, need help?" You asked, but there was no answer. 

Maybe it would wake her up a little once she was in the water. 

"I'm—" you took a long breath in. "I'm gonna help you undress and get into the tub. If you get uncomfortable at any point, let me know and I can stop or do something else."

It wasn't like you've never seen a naked body before. You've seen plenty both in your sex life and field of work. You've even seen parts of Natasha's body when you've treated her. You just never thought you'd see Natasha fully naked. 

You slid your jacket off her shoulders, letting out a puff of breath. You looked past her as you undid the string of her hospital gown. You looked up when you slid down her underwear before guiding her towards the tub. Your gentle guiding seemed to spark Natasha into mechanically climbing into it herself the rest of the way. 

"Okay, cool. Um," you stuttered. "I'm sure you've been through a lot. Once you're done, we can get you into bed and if you're hungry later, I can make you something."

You were getting used to the lack of answers, but it didn't make your stomach drop any less. "Just let me know if you need anything."

You don't wait for a response this time, leaving without shutting the door fully. Down the hall, you leaned against the wall, swallowing harshly. 

It feels like you brought a lifeless shell home. A part of you wonders if Natasha really did return or if this was just some lifeless doll. 

You didn't want to think about it anymore, so you pushed yourself off the wall and into a bedroom with a suitcase and unzipped it open to grab some clothes.

When you were heading back, you heard the water still running and frowned. 

"Natasha?" You called as you opened the door. The tub was overfilling, and you rushed to turn off the faucet, trying to not slip.

Natasha was sitting how you left her, staring ahead at the running water but not really looking at it.

You sighed, relieved that the bathroom floor was designed with wood and curved so that any water would naturally run towards a drain in the floor. 

You go to check the temperature of the water and find that while it was initially fine when you turned it on, Natasha hadn't attempted to adjust it, and the finicky faucet ran nearly scalding water. 

"Jesus, Natasha, you're going to hurt yourself," you yelped. You braced through it and stuck your hand in to drain the tub halfway.

You inwardly sighed, knowing you would have to help Natasha through the entire process. You began to refill the tub, monitoring the temperature and shut it off when it was filled adequately. 

"I'm going to help wash you if that's okay," you muttered. "Just let me know if you prefer to do it yourself at any point."

You grabbed a nearby stool and sat on it before grabbing the loofa. You began with Natasha's shoulders and arms, trying to wash parts of her that were easy to access.

Natasha tensed as you washed her, so you tried to be more slow and careful. 

"It's just me," you said softly, trying to reassure the redhead. "I've always taken care of you."

Natasha said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as you continued. There wasn't much dirt on her, but the stale air that was surrounding her began to fade away. 

Her knees were propped up, folded to her chest, and you washed down her thighs and legs, trying to not think of anything too much as you did it. You tried not to think about the scars on her hands and feet. 

Readjusting your stool, you went to sit behind her. You used a cup to wet Natasha's hair, trying to detangle some of it gently first. It was then you discovered a shaven spot in the back of her head, where there was a large scar. You realized that was where Natasha's head hit the ground when she—

You swallowed, trying to suppress the anger that they shaved her head to get a look at something so private. 

You squeezed a considerable amount of shampoo in your hands and gently rubbed it into her scalp. Natasha tensed at first before your fingers massaging her scalp made her relax, her body leaning back against the tub and her head into your hands. 

It was quiet as you did this. You shampooed her hair twice before slathering it up in conditioner and finally getting out the rest of the knots. You drained the tub, grabbing the shower head to rinse her down once more before you grabbed a towel and helped her out. 

You helped put a bathrobe around her to help dry her as you didn't think you had the gall to fully dry every part of her by hand. Grabbing her clothes, you led her to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed. 

Natasha sat silently as you towel-dried her hair with gentle hands. Her eyes fell closed as you began to blow dry it. Your soft fingers tousling her hair. 

So delicate. 

When it was dry, you set the blow dryer aside. 

"Hm, your hair is pretty sensitive and might be for the next week. It might be better to braid it so it doesn't tangle and break when you're sleeping," you commented, mostly to yourself. 

You took sections of her hair, delicately beginning to put her hair into a french braid. 

"You've always had beautiful hair, red or blonde," you complimented Natasha as you finished. You moved to sit in front of her to check if you did okay from the front. There wasn't a response, but Natasha opened her eyes. They focused on you, looking at you as they traced over the features of your face. She was studying you apprehensively. 

Natasha lifted a hand, slowly reaching up as her fingers brushed the side of your face. It felt bumpy from the scars, but it made the back of your throat burn. 

"Am I really here?" Natasha mumbled as she then traced your cheek before your lips. "Am I really here with you?"

Your eyes were burning now. You couldn't even answer right away because you were afraid your lips would start trembling. 

You lifted your hand, hesitating at first, before you held her hand against your face. "Yeah, you're really here."

The edges of Natasha's eyes began to brim with tears. 

"When I jumped, I didn't die right away," Natasha whispered. "There was a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It didn't get me yet, but it was going to."

You couldn't help the tears that began to fall over the edge of your eyes when they overfilled. 

"Something bad happened to me," Natasha's lip trembled. "It's still happening to me."

You gripped her hand tighter unintentionally, but it was like it grounded Natasha. 

"I was scared," Natasha admitted. "I was scared that even if you came to me, it wouldn't go away."

Then, Natasha grabbed your hand and placed it against her cheek. It was still warm from the bath and blow dryer. 

"But I can feel your touch," Natasha sighed like it was a relief. "It's gentle and I feel human. I'm scared I'm not really here."

"You are."

Your throat felt clogged with raw emotions, and you didn't know what to do with it. You've only seen Natasha a handful of times, and maybe it's because the more you do, the more emotionally charged you both feel. 

"You're really here," you told Natasha, using your thumb to caress her cheek. You didn't know what else to say. 

All you can do is offer her shelter under your touch.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for going off on a tattoo artist for giving me the wrong mandarin letters?

Context matters a lot here. I (23ftm) recently lost my partner to cancer. They were the love of my life and I dropped everything for them- I moved states away from my family so that they could be more comfortable in a dryer climate, I made sure to be there for them through thick and thin- the works. My family, though sad, were okay with it since I had never been so passionate about anything before I met them. Losing them has been nothing short of miserable.

They were Chinese and had a very strong connection to their language and culture, so I wanted to get a tattoo that translated to "My angel, my love" with "my angel" being on the top and "my love" being on the bottom onto my arm. I wasn't able to learn any dialects from them while they were alive since things had been so busy, but I thought maybe at least I could start with this.

So, I went to a local tattoo parlor that had a Chinese tattoo artist (I hope it isn't racist to assume, I've heard him speaking in Mandarin on the phone) and asked to get the translation tattooed. He seemed genuine and we got to work with choosing a font, the right location, and scheduling an appointment. It was very professional and I was really glad that it had gone smoothly since if it hadn't, I'd probably just give up entirely.

A week passes and I get my tattoo. A bit after as we're talking about it, I mention that I got it to commemorate my late partner, whom like I said I consider to be the light of my life. When I mentioned that, he sort of paused and had this look on his face, like when you realize you forgot something really important. He shook it off though and we got back to talking, but things seemed obviously more awkward now.

When I went home I sent a picture of it to my partner's family, and immediately they picked up that something was wrong. They didn't tell me what it had actually translated to, but it was apparently very inappropriate and disrespectful.

Needless to say I was breaking down. My partner had died, I was struggling with depression and fatigue from handling a lot of the funeral procedures, and overall that had been the straw that broke the camel's back. This is where I may be the asshole. I drove back to the parlor shop and found my tattoo artist, and I didn't get physical, but I had definitely wanted to. I was yelling at him, screaming about how he was a horrible shitty person, the works. He argued back that I should have at least given him a reason for the tattoo, since he gets white people coming in all the time asking for dumb stuff, but I shot back that he could have at least told me what he had done when I did reveal why I got the tattoo.

Again, I didn't get physical, but they did threaten to call the cops on me if I didn't leave since I wss making a scene, so I left and later emailed that I had at the very least wanted a refund, since they didn't even give me the tattoo I wanted. I still haven't gotten a response yet.

My family (both biological and in-laws) are very conflicted over this. Some of them think that I could have dealt with it a lot better, while others think I should have threatened them with a lawsuit (obviously there's inbetween opinions but those are the main two extremes). I can't afford a lawsuit considering I'm already dealing with the funeral funds like I said, but I don't know. I don't even know if yelling at the guy made me feel better or worse- it was an in-the-moment response to be sure.

So, with more context, AITA for yelling at the tattoo artist who gave me an inappropriate tattoo instead of the one I really wanted?

What are these acronyms?

[the-entitie]

COD men x K-9 Unit male reader

Part 1 | Part 2》》

A/n: I can speak three languages, only one of which borrow German words, so forgive me for shitty translations. I'm from the RSA, so you know. Not any of the boys hometown.

Reader works with a K-9 unit and his partner is called Mutt who is a mix breed of Alaskan Akita and Doberman(Mutt is also a service dog as reader has paranoia and C-PTSD). Readers call sign is Riot. The 141 boys needed help tracing a terrorist and John called in some favors to bring Riot and Mutt into the field. He helped the Los Vaqueros as well.

After the mission back at base, the reader interacts with the men, and they end up interacting with him.

Reader is referred to as you or Riot.

Mentions of panic attacks, anxiety attacks, C-PTSD, war, and / or war related violence. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, past trauma. Death of a family member. Torture, scars, and flashbacks.

Left: American Akita and Right: Long-haired Doberman

John Price: (740 words)

-He met you first, saw you first. Hell, he verified your file so he knew of your old teammates that turned because of the torture, and he knew of the many years you spent MIA. He also knows what you did to get out. So he keeps you close and keeps an eye on you. He's the one who needs to clear you for this recon mission. It will be his fault if another team mate goes rogue. -It only take him a few minutes to see how much you actually relay on Mutt, it takes him days to see its not reliance, no the two of you act in a cemented trust between you two. From the interactions at home base to the way you both move like a well oiled machine on the field, it doesn't take a genius to see that Mutt is a deadly force with training that makes the hound that much more dangerous. Price comes face to face with that realization when he sees just how far Mutt can throw a soldier four times their size. And Mutt came up to his thighs, mind you. -Time and space are all Price really needed to trust you completely. He knew how you acted with Mutt, and therefore, he knew how you would act around a team you trust. It doesn't take him long to see its not only Mutt who reacts to you. You react just as much based on your K-9. Price nearly shoots you when you call out to Mutt because you didn't whistle for the hound. You howled, and he could hardly tell it apart from the wild dogs he's heard out in the desert. He didn't even understand what the fuck you where doing until he heard something answer you, in the same rumbling call. It took a lot more time to get used to those kinds of noises from you. He could expect them from Mutt but not when it's you who makes them -Both of you were exhausted, been about three long days on your feet with little sleep, that's when he asks you how you make the sounds Mutt does. Hell he even starts trying to learn them just to know how you and you K-9 partner work better. "So I just cup my hands and what now Riot? I Grunt?" "No," you laugh at him, he doesn't feel patronized by it, "you hold your hands around your mouth and just bark, makes it echo like a dog." He sounded more like a mountain lion then canine when he actually gave it a try. You teach him how to pitch it up a bit, and how to drag the call out properly. "And you don't use your hand because?" "Because I'm used to it, and can make the 'echo' without my hands. I still do when I howl. Look." A few nights pass before he uses it to scare a tango shitless out side of the enemy base. He doesn't admit it but he likes 'talking' to the local wild dogs with you. He even enjoys hearing you and Mutt go off at each other because it means your both alive and still here. -Out side of the field and when you two go out to roam the town at the dead of night, he comes to see that the canine noises you and Mutt share gives you peace. The kind he used to find in cigars and smoke. He gets it, he knows that some people just have a vice. When you find him smoking alone behind his own home, he shrugs it off and blames it on the smoke detectors. He doesn't say that he stops to make your K-9 more comfortable in his home. He doesn't stop smoking but he tries to avoid it for your sake. You only corner him around a day or so to thank him. He won't admit to the red flaring up on his ears, but he tells you to drop it. -If he's ever the one who finds you when your having an attack, he will guard you. Get you safe and comfortable then he will become a gruff mother bear and be completely over protective of you. He only calms down when he sees that Mutt already does that, and he learns what can help you, what to look out for. He won't admit it though.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: (734 words)

-Ghost didn't like you at first. or well he doesn't like anyone actually but he didn't like you. -You had a dog breed that was originally made for bear bating and he hated that he knew that. Even if you didn't get the hound because of that. Well, that and Mutt is constantly muzzled. It took you explaining it was required by law for him to try and ignore it. -But when he watches how fluidly you and Mutt work together, even seeing the raw fucking power that dog has when Mutt tackled an enemy to the ground, he starts to understand why you have to keep Mutt muzzled. Even if he didn't like it. -Simon has an ex-military dog at home so he knows how to act around an active working dog. He's the best to be around if you don't want people petting or trying to do anything really with your K-9 partner. -when at the base afterwards he sees that the dog isn't just a working dog but acts like you service dog. Everything from crowd control to doing small tasks for you on the daily. To siting between your legs when you have your back to anyone when doing a task to protect you. Mutt will even start doing this quiet sort of 'rueff' sound that will make you get out of where ever you are without any fanfare, you will just disappear. -He only finds out why a lot later. He feel kind of stupid for missing it after the fact. -Its the scars that cross your back and over your shoulders, the hitches of thick skin around your jaw. You are a torture survivor. So suddenly he gets it. Mutt is your safety, the dog wears a muzzle because your K-9 partner is also a person protection dog. -After he realized the why you stick to your partner so closely, he would begin to help Mutt protect you. He would stand ahead of you when Mutt would lay down to create space (crowd control). Ghost would watch your back and react with your partner to help you. -He takes his mask off when you two are either alone or when your are forced to show your scares he shows some of his to help you feel more comfortable. -you start to notice it, and at first you would try to stop him but eventually you just start protecting him back. You become more comfortable around him. Simon notices it to. -One day after a few days straight of being on your feet, both you and Simon end up passed out in his private quarters. Ghost wakes first to see Mutt cuddle against you and draped across him, when ever he tried to move the dog, they would just growl and to his utter amusement you growled back. -After that he gets you to 'talk' to Mutt any time he can, even on missions. - Ghost was the one who told you and Mutt to bark at each other to distract the enemy when on a recon mission. "Copy Riot, we need an in" "Need an in, copy. Any ideas for that L.t?" "Yeah, Riot go off and make some noise with Mutt" "Seriously?" "Yip, get going we need that data" You two got in, and yes you did start howling back and forth with Mutt in the echo trick wolves use. The enemy thought they were surrounded by cayotes. -When you eventually cuddle up with Ghost again, and Mutt yips or growls at you and you make the noise back, Simon will growl at you. It becomes a games between you to, even doing it as call outs outside of coms. Soap complains about wild dogs once and now Simon will get Mutt vocal just to fuck with Soap. -he starts calling you dog related nicknames, your name doesn't exist anymore. Call sign? only when necessary. You are now called with doggie names. He'll call out a, "Heh, Good boy" "Come on puppy you can speak" when you go dark on coms, or just when you don't answer him. Yes he will also say things like, "What ever you say Fido" -He makes you swear to never tell a soul that he also barks back at Mutt when you two are off duty. You caught him coping a growl when playing with Mutt once. -He gets Mutt and his las to meet. Now he also makes dog sounds with you on his down time, even without you much to his old girls delight.

John “Soap” Mactavish: (616 words)

-He loves your K-9 partner from the first time Price introduces you to the team, sure he tries to be professional but the second you let Mutt go off to play out of gear he just wants to give the hound so many pets. They are just so big and have that cute angry tilt to their face! Can you blame him. -when out on the field, he loves running with two of you on missions. The adrenaline and rush and just how much faster you two are than him. He loves it. -You end up doing it with him outside of missions after a while. Hiking out in mountains and secluded valleys, it's the first time he hears you howl with Mutt. The coyotes had started, yipping over whatever they killed lower down the ridge. Mutt, who was a few paces head, had paused to howl, without thinking you howl with them. Scares Soap but he just finds it fun. -Soap being so in love with Mutt leads to just being around you a lot. He starts learning what certain movements mean to you and your dog, how a sharp left with your hand was a call to draw back or how the shift of your stance meant to take the lead. It amazed him how well you read each other. -Then he sees how you act outside of the field, how Mutt still acted like a protector, and you kept mimicking the sounds Mutt made. Especially when you were more tired. He found it cute. Hell, he loved playing with Mutt, so when you made the hound more excited, he also got just as if not more excited. -Soap loves head scratches you find out when you two are off duty and hanging out. He's on the floor with Mutt and the hound he's cuddling wines before you reach down to comfort the dog with head scritches. You miss and pet Soap instead, beside being completely flustered, he asked you to do it again.  He just starts asking you to do it more and more before you start petting him the same way you pet over your hound. -Now you start with the dog related nicknames, even over coms. Much to Soaps embarrassment and the teams delight. He nearly buckles the first time you call him a good boy, and he does when you call him a good dog. Blames it on a miss step. -He loves, loves, loves listening to you, and Mutt yap back and forth, loves even more when you go to rough houses with growls and even try pining you down one. He fails, but he doesn't care. -Soap only catches one of your attacks when it's about sun down. You're both at his place standing in the kitchen when your shoulders suddenly hitch, but you continued on as normal. Until Mutt wandered over to you, they stopped dead before making a gruff noise and jumping up onto you. Instead of getting you secluded because, of course, the hound sees Soaps house as a safe space. And Mutt will get you down, force you to sit and lower your head. "Woh, n'er knew em ta jump? Wait shit. ROIT!" He'll be right there next to you, knows what to do because of Ghosts episodes on recons. "What's it, lad? What can I do ta help 'im?" -You don't really talk about it. Sure, you explain what it was and why Mutt did that, but not the why it happened. It takes a while to admit that the scares you hide are the reason for that attack. He gets it he does, and now? Mother fucker will do dumb shit to distract you, or just talk and talk and talk. It helps, he knows it helps.

König: (764 words)

-Being a sniper, he likes the added security, the extra eyes to help watch his back. Sure, he doesn't trust you per say but he tries to be friendly none the less. -He had no idea what Mutt was trained for until he saw the both of you take down someone who made it to his vantage point. He saw how you moved like Mutt was an extension of yourself, that's how you earn his respect. -König didn't know why you had so many commands for Mutt, but most of them were cues or just situational. Most of all, the verbal commands you use are in Russian and Dutch so he can understand some of the tasks you ask Mutt to do . It kind of scares him that Mutt would know which trail was a friend and which person wasn't. He stands by that fear when he watches you set them off on a run away target. -He will only admit to himself that both you and Mutt look way to good covered in the gore from that attack. -You had to explain that that kind of training meant your partner had to be muzzled. You both get to talking that night, swapping stories of close calls, and König shyly showed you the star splattered scar on his jaw. Lifting his hood up just enough to see it before hurriedly drooping it back down. You share a few of the worse days you had as a call in search and riot guard and snippets of the scars covering your throat. -Habits begin forming. König will be a silent wall between you and crowds while Mutt would start alerting to his anxiety attacks as well. You made a joke about borrowing Mutt to him on the days off. He didn't understand the first time Mutt barked at him in a weird gruff tone before jumping up and doing it again. It's when you get him secluded and safe that you explain it to him. "Its called signaling. They can tell you when these things are going to happen or are actively happening. " "So it's to let me know?" "Yeah, for me, it's when I'm going to either for a flash back or when my paranoia forces me into a panic attack." "Flash back?" "Yes, remember that sister I told you about." -It took days for you to actually relay that story to him. How your team abandoned you, how the enemy held your sisters head above your bloody form. You explained how that caused phantom pains or flashbacks and how crippling that can be some days. -He becomes your solace after that. He would be there when you needed it. Keep people away when you couldn't look at anyone. He even began listening to Mutts alerts. He even lets you help him through the easier ones. -König called you one night when you both were off for the next few days. You could tell by the shake on his breath what was happening before he could tell you. That was when you showed him how Mutt does decompression therapy, the hound big enough to help ground him. You stayed that night, even teaching König some of the commands you use to tell Mutt how to help you. He's quick to learn them as some phrases are Dutch that you use so he can catch the meaning of some commands. -You don't call him until a long while later. It's on a mission while you two are hunkered down after a botched extraction. Or well, Mutt calls him. "Riot? Are you, Oh Scheiße! 「Shit」" "wat 「what」, ag. What can I do? Dir helfen 「Help you」, how can I help. Please let me help you. " -He ended up holding how so you couldn't hurt yourself in these attacks. It didn't feel as entrapped as you thought it would. König is so much bigger than you, but it's like he makes a physical barrier between you and the world. He helps your partner make you feel safe. It's hard to explain to anyone why your panic attacks act like that, why your mind needs pain to calm from feeling like you're dying. König will explain how his attacks can feel suffocating, and that's why his jaw and throat are so bruised most days. -Between one mission and the next, you start showing off things you and Mutt can do to him, like Mutt retrieving throne knives or how the hound can trace any sent it knows for miles. -You only bark back at Mutt one night when trapped in a safe house. Neither of you could find each other, and mutt had run off

Alejandro Vargas: (720 words)

-Learning of the terrorist stationed so close to los vaqueros' home base, Alejandro was quick to reach out. The 141 had helped him before, so he was surprised to learn of the newer recruit they called in to help them. Alejandro told Price to just bring you along. They needed the extra help honestly, as much as he refused to trust any of 141 purely on principle. They needed the help. -He met you with Ruddy on the roof of the office building, and he asked the polit to land on. When you dropped from the helicopter with the others. Mutt held to your chest before being deposited on the ground. He's seen how some of the other search and rescue units who have K-9's, but he's never seen anyone who works with their hound like you do. Alejandro is both grateful and terrified to have you fighting with him.  -Seeing you and Mutt outside the field was even more intriguing. How the two of you reacted perfectly to each other, he saw a bit of himself and Rudy in the way you two work like a well-oiled machine. He tried to play nice, be kind and calm, but when shit hit the fan? He drops it. Its only been a week before you use the recall command on Mutt to level the man they needed to interrogate. Both of you were forced to hunker down in a safe house, Alejandro making the bound man walk with little success. He asked for your help not long after the son had dipped down.  "Think he will talk?" "Not willingly if that file you circulated was true." "Any ideas?" "You aren't scared of loud noises, are you?" "Not really, why?" -When you said you could help, this isn't what he was expecting, but it was working. You had taken to standing behind the tied down guy, and whenever Alejandro could sound even remotely frustrated,  you would call out to Mutt before the dog would lunge with a snarl or harsh bark. Scared the man shitless, and he would mumble about 'de-ablo' or 'deamons' on and off. When things got too harsh, or either of you were cornered, he watched in equal parts horror and delight as you let Mutt cull those surrounding you all. Watch as you both kill together just as well as you work together. -It eventually became a joke, the whole you being a dog or sounding like one. Even when the two of you left the safe house. Hell, he started talking to you like he would your dog. Started to tease you with the same command you used on your hound. "Come on, Roit, I know you can beg better than that." "Here, cachorro cachorro cachorro [puppy puppy puppy]!" "Such a good boy, you want a treat?" "There we go, Good perro. Now sit for me." Even saying he kept treats for when you were especially well behaved. If you didn't also start laughing along he wouldn't have kept doing it and actually started keeping 'treats' on hand for you on the late nights you two would just talk on and on about nothing and everything. -Being back at the base and left to your devices, he started asking about everything Mutt could do. He would ask if you could also do the tricks and inquire about the ones you could. "Wait cariño, you can howl?" "Yeah. Wanna hear me?" "Oh more than anything." "hhhm, maybe I'll do it later." "I'm happy to beg you, but I think you would sound better begging me, cariño." "I don't beg Alejandro." "You will. And you'll sound so good doing it." "Try me," -He loved hearing you talk to Mutt. Just waiting up at night to listen to the back and forth of barking and yips that echo across the open land. Whether from far away or not, he loved it. -Alejandro is the worst when either of you get hurt. He is the worst flirt, and he lays the dog related teasing on twice as thick. Not only is Rudy swearing him out in broken Spanish, but you don't help either. Doing anything to help him stay conscious or playing along to distract yourself from the pain. Even Mutt begins to see him as safe.

More COD Boys x K-9 unit reader 》》》》

[ikissjae]

PAIRING … jung jaehyun x female!reader

THEMES … college!au. angst! lot more angst in this one. smut.

LENGTH … 7.7k.

WARNINGS … thigh riding. dry humping. virgin!reader and fuckboy jaehyun. cheating. please let me know if i missed something! MINORS DNI.

NOTES … i wrote this fic literally years ago as a someone i don't acknowledge anymore fic lol! this is a prequel to "During the Fall" and a continuation of "The Start of Spiring" which I will link in the source link below! hope yall enjoy! rbs, comments, and asks are always appreciated ♡

ㅤㅤㅤ© ikissjae 2023. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.

Jaehyun: hey

Jaehyun: are you up?

You looked up from the patronizing word document to see the texts lighting up your phone. You rubbed your eyes a little before grabbing the device, blinking a few times at the bright screen. Of course, you were up, you had an essay due before 5:30 AM and here you were at 2 AM struggling with a conclusion. You leaned back against your headboard scrolling through the texts you had previously shared with Jaehyun, a smile appearing on your lips when you saw the blurry photos of him from the party where you two met.

You haven’t seen Jaehyun since that party, so almost a month now, which you didn’t mind. He’d text you at least once a week, and he’d send you cute selfies on Snapchat, so he did keep his promise. He didn’t forget you. That’s all you really wanted from him. You could tell he wasn’t the ‘relationship’ type if you were being honest neither were you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship it’s more like you have these weird commitment issues, you would rather be alone forever than have your heart broken. Weird, yes, but it was safe, you liked being safe.

You: yah i’m up

You: why are you even up go to sleep big head

Jaehyun: my head isn’t even big ://

Jaehyun: i miss you i wanna see you

You stared at your phone, brows furrowed as your eyes glanced up at the time then back at the bubbles sighing quietly. You never had a boy in your apartment after ten, except that one time when you and Doyoung were cramming for finals last semester, and who knew what Jaehyun had on his mind at 2 AM. You sighed quietly reading the message for what felt like the tenth time before slowly typing out your response.

You: i mean…if you really miss me….you can come over

Jaehyun: ……..are you sure

You: come over before i change my mind loser

Jaehyun: alright alright i’ll be over in ten minutes

You felt your stomach twist at the last message but there was an unexplainable excited smile on your lips. Your eyes landed back on your almost-finished essay, you knew you should just throw together a pathetic conclusion and turn it in, but you couldn’t even focus on that. Jaehyun was coming over to your apartment. You were gonna see him again.

You were back and forth from typing a mindless conclusion to staring at the door for the past ten minutes. You managed to finish your essay, it was shitty but it was finished, you were now staring at your now screen sighing quietly looking back up at the door waiting impatiently with a quiet sigh.

It wasn’t that you wanted Jaehyun here, you were bored with nothing to do, Jaehyun was going to be something to do. Suddenly, there were a series of rhythmic knocks.

You squeaked excitedly, jumping up off the bed with an equally excited smile practically skipping to the door. You hated how excited you were to see him, you shouldn’t be this excited to see a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend, but you were practically bouncing to open the door.

When you opened the door you were greeted with the beautiful sight of Jung Jaehyun wearing a large black hoodie with matching black sweatpants, his hood was up but you could see his highlighted hair falling on his forehead, he looked cozy and welcoming. He made your heart stutter a little bit, you couldn’t help but giggle softly up at him which made him smirk down at you.

“So that’s what you look like without fake eyelashes.” He teased tapping your nose sweetly with a deep chuckle. You scrunched your face up before you realize you were sporting a bare face, your hair was in its natural waves, and you were wearing some baggy sweatshirt. You probably look like a different person than the one he met at the party, a softer more comfy version, you were wishing you at least put on some concealer while you were wasting time staring at the door.

“Shut up.” 

You giggled stepping to the side to let him walk into your small apartment smiling softly. The boy took one long step inside the room, he looked around a soft smile growing on his lips as he took in your messy room.

“Who would’ve guessed you’re an actual wreck.” He teased pointing to your messy makeup corner with a soft giggle, you opened your mouth to defend yourself but he was right. You were, in fact, a wreck, if that wasn’t already apparent by you finishing an essay at 2 AM.

“I mean…You’re not wrong.” You shrugged kicking a few t-shirts into a corner with a small almost nervous chuckle as you looked up at him, a bright smile forming on your lips. You used your foot to close your door, sauntering over to him with a shy smile on your pink-tinted lips.

“I missed you, whore,” you told him quietly causing him to laugh softly, resting his hands on your hips , smiling down at you.

“I missed you too, virgin.” he laughed softly pinching your sides, making you squeal quietly, shoving his hands away laughing quietly, looking up at him as you took a step back sitting on your bed staring up at him.

“Virgin? Come on, Jaehyun you can do better.” You patted the space next to you, watching him sit down with an almost tired smile, playing with the fraying edge of your sweatshirt.

There is a silence, almost uncomfortable but not quite there, he let his fingers brush your thighs softly as he continued playing with the loose strings. You smiled softly at him, you could feel your heart swelling as you looked at him, slowly letting your hand push his hood down humming softly when you saw his dirty blond hair.

“You got highlights.” You smiled running a gentle hand through his hair, which was soft and silky, making him nod a little letting his hand drop. 

“You like it? I was having a crisis.” He chuckled letting his hand fall onto your thigh causing you to tense up a little, but you let it happen even resting your hand on top of his taking a step out of your comfort zone.

“It’s cute.” You tell him with a slight nod, blushing softly as he laced his fingers with yours. He smiled happily at your compliment, squeezing your hand softly pulling your hand up to press a soft kiss to your palm.

“I like dark roots a lot. I’ve always wanted to go blond with some dark roots, but I’ve never been bold enough to do it. I don’t know how I would look as a blond.” Jaehyun tilted his head at you, letting his hand grab a lock softly, twirling the strands around his finger, he smirked softly at the thought of you with blond hair.

“I’d like to see you as a blond. I think you’d look really hot, especially with the dark roots.” He tells you with a subtle wink making you blush softly, shoving his hand away softly.

“Shut up,” you told him weakly with a soft laugh looking up at him before quietly resting your head on his shoulder, humming softly into his hoodie.

“How have you been, baby?” He asks quietly running a hand up and down your spine, giving you a soft squeeze as you shrugged softly.

“I’m tired. I’m ready for summer break, ready to go home, ready to sleep regularly.” You told him honestly with a restless laugh.

“Where’s home?” He asked you before quietly patting his lap, waiting for you to move there. You look up at him scooting hesitantly towards him, you felt your stomach twist tightly as you slowly climbed into his lap keeping your back towards him. 

“America.” You told him as you situated yourself on his thick thighs nodding at your answer.

“America?” He pondered out loud, “Are you all by yourself here?” He was asking a lot of questions, you couldn’t imagine him really wanting to know more about your life, he only wanted to fuck you right? You nodded a little, letting your fingers skate softly over the black fabric, feigning an unbothered smile.

“Yeah, I do but it’s fine. I love Seoul, it’s beautiful.” You nod looking back at him before looking back down with a small shrug. 

“Where is your home?” You asked out of courtesy turning your head back towards him to see him smiling lazily at you, you gave him a subtle eye roll before squeezing his thigh in hopes of a response.

“Here. I was born here but moved to Connecticut when I was five for my dad’s work. I came back three years later. I never really left.” You watched his lips move as he talked unsurely about his time here, you looked back up at his eyes smiling a little at how his brows furrowed in concentration.

“So, do you have, like, an English name?” You tease, smiling down at him as he turns his face away from you, a bright smile on his lips.

“I actually have three names.”

This time your brows furrowed but in confusion. Three? This boy had three names? 

You wiggled to reposition yourself to be facing him. Jaehyun took this opportunity to grab your hips, pulling you towards him till your chests were pressed together making you blush softly. You put your hands on his chest to keep some distance between you two, but with hips flush against each other you were feeling everything.

“Tell me about your three names.” You inquire softly, squirming in his hold till you were comfortable again.

“I have my birth name, my name, and my English name.”

There’s a pause. You tilt your head a bit in curiosity, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

“Birth name? You changed your name?”

“Yeah. I wanted a name that meant something. It’s a bitch to legally change your name though so I just use Jaehyun more often than not.”

There’s another pause but this one is filled with quiet giggles and cheesy smiles. Your hands held tightly onto his hoodie smiling down at him, before letting them slide down to let them rest under the fabric feeling his invitingly warm skin.

“Tell me your names.” You felt him jolt back a little at the touch, but he soon relaxed against your palms making your heart beat a little faster.

“Well, my birth name is Jaehyun, my name is Yoonoh, you know that, and my English name is Jay.”

“Jay?”

“Jay.”

You let the name roll off your tongue a few more times before chuckling a little, letting your hands rest around his waist, thumbs rubbing soft circles into the flesh.

“Yoonoh.” You just about whisper to see his reaction, eyes trained in on his face your smile now faint. His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read, he looked almost helpless, but the moment of weakness only lasted a second before it dissipated back into his usual cocky grin.

“Haven’t heard someone call me that in a while,” He reveals quietly, “I like when you say it. I like when you say all my names.”

There was a tense pause where you two just stared at each other’s lips, waiting for someone to make the first move. 

“I really missed you.” You tell him quietly, you can feel him grab your arms, pulling them out from underneath his hoodie, and placing them on his wide shoulders.

“Did you, princess?” He whispered up at you a soft smile leaning up to nuzzle his nose against yours, you blushed softly before nodding softly. “I missed you too. I’ve missed your mouth a lot.” He told you while tangling a hand in your hair to hold you in the current position.

“Of course you did.” You giggled squeezing his shoulders a bit before tapping his arm signaling him to let go of your hair which he did, his large hand sliding down your side to rest on your hip squeezing softly. 

“You’re kind of a slut, Jaehyun.” You joked pulling your head off of his laughing quietly as he scoffed looking up at you with an amused smile.

“And you’re kind of a prude, _____.”

You gasped quietly furrowing your brows, your face contorting a little in mock offense.

“I am not a prude, Jay.”

“So, you suck dick in a bathroom once and you’re not a prude anymore?”

“…Yes.”

He let out a boisterous laugh looking up at you with the brightest cleanest smile. You adored his smile, you have many screenshots of blurry snaps of his wide white smile. You could stare at him all day if he would let you. You let your hands cup his cheeks softly with a bright smile, making him smile even wider than before. You swear you could feel your heart practically fall out of your chest at the sight.

You wished Jung Jaehyun was different, you wished you had met him without knowing the copious amount of girls he fucked and left in the dust, but here you were with a tainted view of him that you couldn’t shake away no matter how many times he made your heart nearly fail. He hummed up at you, his hands skimming up your sides till his fingers collided with your exposed skin.

You shifted a little at the touch, he held tighter onto your waist smirking softly up at you. “What did you miss about me, baby?” He whispered letting his thumbs glide over your ribs softly, leaning up to press his forehead to yours. Your throat went dry, you could feel your stomach tighten at how close he was. Your hands dropped from his face to his shoulders blushing softly.

You opened your mouth to tell him how much you missed his lips, how you wanted to kiss him again, how you’d been thinking about him for weeks, but nothing came out your cheeks just burned brighter making you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He giggled squeezing your sides sweetly pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand skimmed up your back to tangle his hand in your hair to pull you back with a bright smile.

“Did you miss my fingers, baby?” He questioned smirking up at you with a small head tilt. You stared down at his lips nodding dumbly at his words, you heard him hum up at you leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours sighing softly.

“Or did you miss my lips?” He whispered, “Did you miss kissing me? I missed kissing you.” He tilted his head to let his lips graze over yours to test the waters before he finally gave you what you wanted. His lips were still the softest pillows you’ve ever laid upon, you whimpered softly at the overwhelming burst of unrecognizable emotions in your stomach.

His lips were so soft, so sweet, so intoxicating, you missed kissing Jaehyun. He wrapped his arms tighter around your waist as he moved his lips against yours, you held tightly onto his hoodie trying to keep him close. He groaned softly as he pulled away to roll on top of you, manhandling you till you were against your pillow as you tried to catch your breath but his lips were reattached to yours in a matter of seconds. He made himself at home between your legs, you kept your grip on his hoodie tugging softly at the fabric.

“Take it off, Jaehyun.” You muttered pulling away, managing to catch your breath huffing quietly as he sat up not even hesitating before pulling the black hoodie off. Your hands were attached to his skin like a magnet, you wanted to feel him, you wanted to keep him close. You wanted him.

Oh god, you liked Jung Jaehyun.

You stared up at him with big almost panicked doe eyes, he leaned down to press soft kisses to your slightly exposed stomach. You let your head fall back with a small whine, you were going to lay there and let him do whatever he wanted. You’d let him do whatever he wanted to you. Scarily, you trusted Jaehyun a lot.

He wasted no time tugging down your sweats down to your knees, you swallowed thickly tugging softly on his locks to pull him back to your lips making him groan against your lips. He hummed softly into the kiss, pressing his hips into yours moaning softly. There was an amazing friction that made you shiver a little, digging your nails into his back with an airy chuckle.

“Keep doing that.” You whispered up at him causing him to smirk softly down at you. He rolled his hips into your clothed core, you could feel his growing length press against you which made you moan softly against his lips.

“You’re so adorable, baby.” He whispered pressing his wet lips to your jawline, nosing softly against your cheek. You bucked your hips into him with a deep shaky breath, he slid his hands up your sides to slide them under your top easily taking your breasts in his large hands.

You gasped softly at the contact, your hands skimming up his back to dig your nails into his skin looking up at him with hooded eyes. He rolled his hips into your clothed core causing a pleasant but short wave of pleasure to wash over you. You furrowed your brows at how good this was feeling, it was almost painful how short the waves lasted with each roll of his hips.

Holy shit, how did he always manage to make you feel so good?

He groaned gruffly against your neck, holding tightly onto your hips, continuing to rut against you his nails leaving crescents imprints on your skin. Soft grunts and gentle gasps filled your little room, red lines forming on his skin when your nails ranked down it, the slow burn in your stomach was starting to grow more intense every time he rolled his hips into yours.

“P-Please kiss me.” You whispered lazily draping your legs around his hips, sighing quietly feeling him kiss up your neck to finally press a soft kiss to your lips.

The tight tension in your stomach was growing uncomfortable, you whined softly into the feather-like kiss feeling his fingers wrap around the hem of your hoodie. You quickly shook your head with a thick swallow, trying to find your voice as you held tighter onto his shoulders.

“I-I want to keep it on.” You finally got out before the fabric could be lifted over your head. He looked down at you with a look of confusion for a second before nodding a bit, his hands falling to your waist smiling comfortably.

“That’s fine. That’s fine. Do you want to take a minute?”

You laced your fingers with his sighing softly as you wrapped your legs around his waist, tugging his hips flush against yours with a thick swallow. 

“I-I was really close. Whatever you’re doing, it feels really really good.” You nodded looking up at him with big eyes, a smug smile tugging at his pink lips as he nodded a little.

“I like making you feel good. You look so pretty when you cum, you know? I want to see that face again.”

Your cheeks burned once again as you looked up at him laughing softly, your eyes looking down at the bulge growing in his sweats.

“You’re really hard, Jaehyun.” You whispered chuckling softly at the sight, he looked up at you with a loud laugh pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, smiling against your skin. His hands skimmed down your sides to hold onto your hips groaning quietly.

He pulled away from you, pulling you up by your hips to place you in his lap, manhandling you till you were straddling his thigh making you gasp softly. He leaned against your wall smirking up at you as he slapped the back of your thigh, squeezing the flesh softly before motioning down towards his thigh.

“Want to take your panties off, baby?” He whispered burying his face into the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses to the sensitive skin as you nodded slowly. You lifted your hips letting him slide the soaked fabric down your legs, smirking cockily when his digits brushed over your slick folds.

He moved you back on his thigh making you gasp softly, digging your coffin-shaped acrylics into his chest. Jaehyun groaned softly looking down at the pretty pale pink nails, he bit his bottom lip holding tightly onto your hips.

“Ride my thigh, baby.” He whispered leaning in to kiss your lips softly, his hands moving up to hold on tightly to your hoodie.

You didn’t waste any time before rolling your hips against the rough fabric of his sweatpants, loud whimpers falling from your lips into his as your hips moved desperately against him. He pulled away from your lips to watch you pathetically rutting against him, a cocky smirk on his lips chuckling softly as he leaned his back against your wall.

“You’ve done this before haven’t you?” He whispered grabbing a fist full of your hair tugging harshly, making you cry out softly as you dug your nails into his stomach.

Your cheeks glowed with at his question, brows furrowed as a pathetic whimper fell from your lips. Visions of those lonely nights with your pillow between your legs desperately rutting into the pillow, thinking about the quick yet explosive pleasure that eventually lolled you to sleep, but you couldn’t say that to Jaehyun not without wanting to die a little inside.

“Aw, look you’re blushing.” He whispered lowly the same smirk on his lips, “Do you hump your pillow, princess? Do you think about me?”

You only whined in response shutting your eyes tightly, trying to lean into him but the grip on your hair was unforgiving. He kept you still with the iron grip on your hair waiting for you to answer, flexing his thigh underneath you with a cruel smirk on his lips. You whimpered loudly as your hips rolled deeply into his hard thigh, your nails dug deeper into his skin crying out softly.

“Answer the question, _____.” He growled pushing you down till you were looking at him, face redder than before and you could only feel yourself getting redder under his intense stare.

“I-I do. I think about you all the time, Jaehyun.”

He chuckled darkly at the way your voice shook as if you were near tears. He liked seeing you like this, basically falling apart before of him, because of him, was so arousing and erotic his head was spinning. Jaehyun hummed in response, his fingers finally losing on your hair letting your head fall onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet sigh.

“Tell me what you think about. Tell me everything.” He whispers into your shoulder, kissing the flesh gently. You kept your hips moving into his thick thigh, your eyes blown wide as your clit brushed against the rough fabric.

“I-I think about your dick. Holy fuck, fuck, your dick is so big and thick.” Your voice was whiny and shaky as you held on tightly to him, “I think about y-you inside me, stretching me out so good, f-fucking me till I’m shaking. Wanna know what makes me cum?” You questioned smirking softly at his bewildered eyes as he nodded quickly, a soft moan leaving his lips as he looked up at you.

You moaned loudly as he flexed his thigh under you once again, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as his eyes stayed trained on your lips.

“I think about you filling me up with your cum.” You shut your eyes tightly, your nails dragging down his chest watching his jaw drop a rough moan fell from his shiny pink lips.

“Fuck, Jaehyun–oh my god–Yoonoh.”

You cut yourself off when you feel the wave of pleasure wash over you, back arching into him as your moan catches in your throat, body rigid and nails deep into his skin. His hips jerked up a few times, low trembling moans ripping through his body as he held tightly onto your hips, you knew there would be bruises by tomorrow. A familiar groan filled your apartment, you were too overwhelmed by the short ripples of pleasure still rolling through your body, mindlessly nuzzling into his chest.

The room is full of heavy breathing, his hands letting go of your hips to rub softly at your thighs. You swallowed thickly against the crook of his neck, pulling away slowly to look at him with raised brows.

“Did you...Did you cum in your pants?” You asked moving your hands to his face, your thumbs stroking his cheeks when they glowed softly. He blinked a few times, brown eyes looking down at his sweats which were wet in multiple spots now. You watched a cute embarrassed smile appear on his glistening pink lips, his cheeks glowing brightly at your question.

“Y-You look so good when you cum. I couldn’t help it.”

You tilted your head at his weak tone, he looked so wrecked borderline pathetic from his orgasm. You felt something spark inside you seeing him like that, something that you’ve never felt before.

You wanted him.

Quietly you swallowed the urge with a small sigh, hands gently brushing his hair out of his doe eyes. You brushed the thought away, tossing your hair over your shoulder with a quiet hum. He groans softly looking up at you, cringing softly when he shifts his hips a little bit.

“Fuck. I feel gross. I feel really sticky.” He whispered his head falling back against the wall sighing contently, eyes fluttering shut as you ran your hands up and down his marked chest.

There was a blissful silence. A silence that you never wanted to end. You were the one to break it, pulling away to look at his blissful face smirking wickedly at him.

“You came fast and untouched. You must really like me, hm?”

“I liked the way you said Yoonoh. No one has ever said it like that.”

“No one has said it while cumming before?” You giggled stroking his hair softly, smiling at him gently. His eyes fluttered open to stare at your lips before looking up at you, swallowing thickly at the sight of the wet patch on his thigh.

Another silence filled your room, he leaned down to press soft kisses to your collarbones. You rested your cheek on the top of his head, nuzzling against his soft hair humming quietly as he brushed his nose against your throat. You wanted to stay like this, you wanted to keep him close, you wanted to stay in his arms, doused in his warmth as you both recovered from your orgasms.

You cleared your throat, untangling yourself from him as you slid off his thigh taking a deep breath with a soft huff. You looked around to find your underwear, you felt him move from behind you grunting uncomfortably as he stood up off your bed.

“Can I shower here? I don’t want to walk back with cum in my pants.”

“You walked here? Where’s your place?” You questioned sliding your underwear back on and turning towards him with a small head tilt. He turned towards you a soft smile adoring his pink lips, your eyes adoring the bright red lines on his tan chest.

“I live in the apartments a few blocks away.”

You nodded a bit trying to envision what his apartment looked like. Was it messy? Was it put together?

You could see shirts scattered across his floor, his bed unmade, and dishes in the sink. Maybe Jaehyun was a clean freak with a tightly made bed, spotless floors, and a pristine kitchen where everything is organized. Your eyes scanned over him quickly with a small smile, your chest aching a little at the sight of him.

“You can–” You turned toward your clock, the intimidating red numbers telling you it was nearing 3 AM. You couldn’t let him walk alone at 3 AM even though you knew he’d be just fine, but still, you’d be too worried to let him walk out of your apartment this late.

“You can…Stay the night if you want. It’s–um–it’s really late, you shouldn’t be walking alone this late.”

He looked a little surprised at your offer a soft chuckle left his lips as he thought about spending the night with you. He shrugged his broad shoulders with a small nod, a soft smile forming on his lips looking down at you.

“I would like that. We can finally–”

“Hold it, Jay. You’re sleeping on the floor.”

“Oh come on, prude. You know you want to snuggle with me.”

You rolled your eyes a little bit at the way his smile turned into a soft smirk. You aggressively pointed towards the small, pathetic, excuse of a bathroom you had, it was more like a closet with a shower in it. “Go shower. The cum in your pants is probably dried now.” You teased with a soft laugh, only laughing harder when he shot you a playful glare before turning around to disappear into your closet bathroom.

You dug through your drawer to find the lone pair of boxers you bought as an experiment last month. He’ll only need new underwear, right? You slowly knocked on the flimsy door, poking your head in the warm room, your eyes falling to the floor when you hear him pull your curtain back a bit.

“Couldn’t help yourself?” He teased smirking softly at you, running his hand through his wet hair as you blindly tossed the boxers on the sink. You only looked up to shoot him a slightly disgusted look, you watched him laugh at your expression before winking playfully tilting his head a bit.

“Thank you.” He tells you sweetly, an even sweeter smile on his lips, “I’ll be out in a minute.” He nods closing the shower curtain.

You closed the door behind you humming softly as you went to your closet, getting on your toes to pull down the extra blankets from the top shelf. You laid the blankets down for him next to your bed, grabbing one pillow from your bed to drop it on the ground. The makeshift bed on the floor was a pastel pathetic mess on your floor but he’d probably be fine, right? You stared down at the blankets almost leaning down to straighten them out, but there was a sudden vibration from the edge of your bed.

Your head shot up to turn towards your bed, seeing the fabric of his hoodie light up. You paused for a moment just staring at the glowing hoodie. Who was texting him at 3 AM? Without letting yourself hesitate, you pulled his phone out from its pocket sitting down on your bed to scroll through his notifications.

Every contact name was just initials. You found it odd but also didn’t question it. Jaehyun was a fuckboy after all.  You furrowed your brows at the screen.

q.k : if ur going to leave at two am pls be quiet when you do it

l.m.h : do u have the answers for the review i’m dying dude

k.d.h : baby i miss you :(

k.d.h : ik it’s late but i want to see you

k.d.h : jaeeeeeeee 

You blinked a few times at the messages. Who was k.d.h? Why were they texting him at two am? You heard the shower water stop, you quickly shoved the phone back into his hoodie, hands slightly shaky and mind racing. You shouldn’t be thinking this hard about someone he wasn’t even with right now. You shouldn’t be thinking this hard about Jaehyun in general. He should be an afterthought, he shouldn’t even be here right now, but here he was showering in your apartment.

When he walked out of the bathroom, toweling off his dripping locks looking up at you smiling sweetly at you before looking down at the mess of blankets beneath you.

“Is that my bed for tonight?” He asked adjusting his boxers as his eyes stared down at the pallet, his hand rubbing his stomach. You nodded a little forcing a small smile as he lay down on the floor, grunting softly as he rolled around trying to get comfortable.

“Stop being dramatic, oh my god.”

You teased reaching over to turn your lamp off a sudden wave of darkness swallowing your room. Tucking yourself in, you tangled yourself in your cold blanket sighing quietly as he rolled around with a series of small grunts. He reached up to place his hand on your bed trying to get your attention, tapping his fingers against your mattress waiting for you to pay attention to him.

“Go to sleep, Jaehyun.”

“I can’t.”

“You haven’t even tried, you crackhead.”

“Maybe I don’t want to sleep. Maybe I want to keep talking to you.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.” You groaned shoving his hand off your mattress with a small eye roll. He sat up to look at you, you could make out a disgruntled look on Jaehyun’s face. You weren’t looking at him. You didn’t want to look at his giant shoulders and beautiful face, not with the daunting question of  “Who’s k.d.h?” racking your brain. He stared at you do a second, running a hand through his damp hair as he tilted his head a bit.

“You’re getting…hostile again. Is this how you act with the people you like?”

“I don’t like you.” You quickly denied with furrowed brows, “Like that. I don’t like you like that.” You lied with a thick and hard swallow.

There was a silence that made your stomach twist and turns, you finally looked at him with furrowed brows sighing quietly. “Don’t look at me like that.” You whispered looking down at him with a soft sigh, slowly letting your hand drop down to rest softly on his shoulder. You rubbed circles into the taut skin waiting for him to say something, but he just stared at you with his big eyes making you sigh quietly.

“You don’t like me like that and you know it.”

He scoffed quietly before shaking his head. “You’re so…You’re so aggravating.” You frowned your brows at his word choice, shoving his shoulder harshly with a huff. 

“I am not. You’re the aggravating one.” You snapped sitting up to look down at him with slight irritation on your face. He looked up at you with an equally as irritated look, laughing bitterly as he got on his knees to be closer to your level.

“You act like you know me and everything about me–”

“Don’t start that shit again please.” You groaned rolling your eyes. He raised his brows at you in slight shock that you interrupted him. You mocked his shocked expression trying to get a rise out of him. You wanted to see him angry, you wanted him mad, but you weren’t getting it from him. He just stared at you, brows furrowed and lips tightly together, as he tilted his head a bit at you.

“I know enough about you to know you don’t want to date me, Jaehyun. You can say you just want to fuck me and it’ll be fine. Just stop acting like you want something more from me.”

“That’s-That’s not true. I like you. I don’t want to just fuck you. I want–”

“If you like me so much who’s k.d.h?”

There’s a sharp and heavy silence. He stared at you with frowned brows he looked confused, angry, and guilty at the same time.

“You looked through my phone?”

“It was kind of hard to ignore seeing k.d.h was texting you every five minutes.”

“You looked through my phone?” He repeated more sternly this time standing up to look down at you suddenly making you feel ten times smaller than you already felt. You averted your eyes awkwardly as he turned on your lamp, you flinched at the burst of dim light keeping your eyes down. He leaned down getting dangerously close to you, his face too close to yours for your comfort.

“Answer me, _____.”

“I did.” You finally whispered, shoulders slumped and eyes focused on your floor taking a deep breath. His stare was finally getting the best of you, you could feel your chest tightening, your stomach dropping, and a burning sensation in your eyes. You felt like a child being scolded, you hated this, you hated him for making you feel this way.

“Who is she?” You asked pathetically, blinking a few times trying to ignore the tears brimming your eyes. You looked up at him, head tilted sympathetically as your eyes begged him for an answer. His face softened at the utterly depressing look on your face, slowly resting a large hand on your bare thigh making you huff softly dabbing your eyes with your thumb.

“Her name is Kim Dahee. She’s…She’s my girlfriend.”

Your jaw dropped a little when you heard her name and the title she carried. He swallowed thickly looking down, sighing quietly, squeezing your thigh a little as your bottom lip quivered a bit. 

You felt gross, you felt used, you felt like a bad person, oh god, you were a bad person. 

“You-Your girlfriend?” You asked quietly, brows knit together feeling your chest get painfully tight at the fact this conversation was happening.

“We’ve been dating for around four months now.” You finally turn away from him wanting to throw up at the fact you were the other woman. Were you really though? You didn’t even know what the other woman entailed, so did you really fit the mold of the other woman?

“Oh, my god. Oh my god, you fucked my throat in a bathroom while you had a girlfriend! Y-You came over to my apartment, made out with me, came in your pants because of me, you tell me all this-this bullshit about liking me and you have an entire girlfriend! How fucking dense are you!”

You exploded shoving his hand off of your thigh, wanting no physical contact with Jung Jaehyun for the rest of your life. You’ve never felt so dumb in your life. You were an idiot. A dumb slut. You really let yourself fall for some dumb boy with a girlfriend. God, you felt disgusting.

“Hey, hey, calm down baby–”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. What the hell is wrong with you?”

You snapped turning away from him to wipe your eyes with a frustrated groan, you shook your head sniffling softly. Hot tears were running down your cheeks, you couldn’t seem to stop the steady streams from dripping onto your sheets.

“You fucking preach how I don’t know you, how judgmental I’ve been towards you, and you’ve been cheating this whole time?” He pursed his lips together, not being able to say anything just sighed quietly looking at his feet. For the first time you left Jaehyun speechless, he was just standing there like an idiot.

“I should’ve known. I did know. I knew who you were, I knew you didn’t care about me or anyone but yourself, and I still––”

Your throat closed up a bit, letting out another frustrated groan, and looked up at him with a shake of your head.

“I was right about you.” You whispered looking at him with teary eyes, your chest aching a little at how hurt he looked at your words. You pretended you didn’t care, you knew he deserved it, but that didn’t stop it from causing an uncomfortable tightening sensation in your chest. There’s this heavy silence, one where he just stood in front of you guilt all over his beautiful face. You swallowed thickly, climbing back under your blankets holding tightly onto the comforting soft cover as you turned your back towards him.

“I want you out by seven.” You deadpanned staring at your white wall the light suddenly going out darkness consuming your room once again. “Alright.” He mumbled laying back down on the flimsy palette, sniffling softly as he rolled on his side.

Another heavy silence.

“You…You won’t tell her, right?”

You thought about it for a minute. You were never good at confrontation, especially with girls, you couldn’t imagine even approaching the stunning angel that was Kim Doyeon let alone telling her all the things you had done with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Jaehyun was her boyfriend. He was never going to be yours. No matter how hard or quietly you wanted him, he would never be yours.

“I won’t.” You whisper turning on your back to stare at the ceiling, the last of your silent tears running off your cheeks and onto your pillow. “Jaehyun,” Your tone was so weak and soft you hoped he would actually take you seriously, “I-I don’t want to do this if-if you have someone.”

Another damn silence.

“Okay. Okay, I get it.” You blinked a few times trying to get the sting of his agreement to get disappear, sighing softly at how heavy you felt. You at least thought it would be lighter after the resolution, but it only seemed to make everything heavier.

“Goodnight, ___.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. You just stared at the wall, eyes heavy, but you couldn’t find sleep even though you desperately wanted to. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, blankets tangled between your legs, Jaehyun’s even breathing the only sound filling your room. Your eyes looked up at your window seeing a faint ray of orange streaming into your room.

You blinked your heavy lids before looking down at the sleeping boy on your floor, a sad smile on your lips when you glanced over his relaxed figure sighing quietly. He looked beautiful sleeping, his long limbs relaxed and sprawled out on the floor, his lips relaxed and slightly parted, he was so beautiful. Slowly, you laid back down closing your eyes, trying to coax yourself back to sleep.

Suddenly there was a loud ring through your room, one you flinched at but didn’t say anything about it. You heard him groan and shift around, stumbling through your room to find his clothes, grumbling inaudible things as he gathered his things trying to be as quiet as he could. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep not wanting to deal with him or the inevitable goodbye that was to come.

The shuffling sounds grew closer till you felt his hand on your cheek. You couldn’t help but jump away a bit before leaning into his palm, knowing if you opened your eyes you’d be met with those doe eyes that made your chest want to explode. Slowly, you felt tentative lips press against your forehead, making your chest want to explode as usual. Without hesitation you let your eyes flutter open, staring up at him with tired yet wide eyes swallowing quietly as you two made eye contact.

You two just stared at each other, you could feel him begin to rub soft circles against your skin. He sighed quietly at how tired and sad you looked because of him, you finally adverted your eyes from his brown ones letting them focus on his wrist as you slowly place your hand on top of his. He was dressed in the clothes from last night, his hair was a wreck, and his eyes looked tired but he was still mesmerizing. It was way too quiet for your liking, it was weird for Jaehyun to be this quiet for this long but you understood.

You sensed him leaning in again. You almost let it happen, you almost let your lips collide with his, but even when his plush lips just brushed against yours you felt nerve-wracking guilt wreck through you. You turned away last second, your chest aching with want when you did so. You wanted him. You wanted him so bad but not like this. He rested his forehead against the side of your face, sighing quietly over the rejection before pressing one last soft kiss to your cheekbone.

He didn’t say anything, just grabbed his phone and walked out just like you expected him to. You slowly leaned down, grabbing the pillow he slept on with a soft sigh, pulling it to your chest with another quiet sigh nuzzling your face into the plush pillow. You inhaled the fading scent of him, your eyes growing wet as he filled your senses nails digging into the pillow.

There was a moment where you let yourself cry into your pillow. You let yourself mourn over a relationship that wasn’t even real, you could feel your eyes begin to burn at the steady flow of tears running down your cheeks. You finally lifted your head to wipe your eyes, sniffling a bit as you forced yourself to stop crying over Jaehyun, causing you to hiccup a little bit.

You checked the time on your phone rubbing your eyes till they were red and wet, blinking a few times to see your screen more clearly. It was only 7 AM. You could fall asleep and wake up before noon, get something to eat maybe, then make it to your study group by three. You put your phone back on your bedside table exhausted, burying your face back in Jaehyun’s pillow, hiccuping once again. You slowly fell into a weak sleep longing for him to be beside you.

[ghouljams]

Omg I LOVE your konig!cowboy story, it's entertaining just how dumb bee is around this whole farm life, but what if she wasn't really that stupid? Like imagine konigs computer completely shuts down, and he's not the most tech literate but bee sees the problem and goes full city slicker tech bro mode and fixes it in no time, showing she is in fact competent, just not about her current life

Congratulations on unlocking Bee's expertise.

This is almost exactly what I had in mind when I was trying to figure out how she could just up and move and do wfh and generally have no clue how to own a farm. I think she's 100% a tech jockey of some kind, maybe a little bit of a hacker type. She's very smart but only about her areas of expertise.

König's laptop is open on the kitchen table when you drop by, the blue screen staring at you like an angel of death. You wince a little. You hope he wasn't working on anything important. You set your fabulously not failed cookies on his kitchen counter and pull out the chair in front of the computer.

"König, you mind if I poke around on your computer a little?" You call, straining to hear any movement before he pokes his head into the kitchen. He narrows his eyes at the computer for a moment, and damn you've never seen someone think so long about having their tech salvaged. "I won't check your browser history or anything if that's what you're worried about, just wanna get it running again."

König makes a noise of surprise and embarrassment. "I am not worried about that!" He sputters, which tells you he actually was worried about that. You shrug and flex your fingers a little. "Don't poke around too much." He relents, you grin, men are all the same.

"I'll stick to drivers and operating files only," he gives you a blank look, you press a few command keys to pull up your favorite little black box, "I'll just get it back to working."

You spend a few minutes manually filling in code and resetting the garbled muck that's filling your neighbor's computer. It's not too bad but he's got a nasty worm that seems to have been installed through a lousey torrent. You wipe the last few installs as best you can, calling König over to translate every so often. It's bad enough reworking an operating system in English, you're losing your mind trying to parse German files.

Eventually he finds a chair to sit next to you and watch. You pull your feet up onto the chair, your posture atrocious as you concentrate.

"I don't even know what half of this is," You grumble, staring at what looks like a matrix of some sort, a really sparse one.

"Which one is giving you trouble," König follows where you point on the screen, eyes narrowed against the brightness as he reads through named files, "Ah, this is security."

"Your place has security? We're in the middle of nowhere," You shoot him a look, he hums half agreeing, "I'll leave it."

"Braves Mädchen," he breathes, "you're very good at this."

"I hope so, can't exactly fall back on farming." You grumble, fingers working to finish your repairs to Königs frankly ancient laptop. This thing is going to be running marathons when you're done with it. Probably best to avoid any major changes to the OS though, König doesn't seem like he'd be willing to learn new shortcuts.

This is good though, you feel like you're paying him back for helping you out so much. Especially when you hit the button for the final restart and everything springs to life with a pleasant chime. You smile at your work, typing in König's shitty password to check that everything is working alright. You check the time, updating the clock to the correct time zone.

You stop, dread making your stomach roll. Is it really that late? "We were supposed to see a movie," You frown. König shoos your hands off the keyboard and shuts his laptop, it rings like a death bell on your ever present forgetfulness. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize, and now we've missed it," König raises a hand to stop your apology.

"I don't mind," He's so sweet, his eyes smiling at you over his bandana, "I enjoyed watching you work, it was very... informative." You offer a hesitant smile, that's certainly one way to put it.

König watches you straighten up from your position over the computer, knees dropping from where you'd pulled them up by your chest as you arch your back to stretch out the kinks. The satisfied little noise you make at the quiet pop is going to bounce around his mind for a while yet. The same way your focused stare and the silent movement of your lips as you read will stick with him.

He would have asked you for help sooner, but there was too much about you on that laptop to be safe. Still, your discretion was a credit to your professionalism. Although your flagrant dismissal of what you must have thought were his porn habits was... telling. How many men have jumped to get their computer out of your hands?

"I better go home, gotta feed the critters and all." You stand, grabbing your bag from the floor, "Thanks for letting me fix your computer."

"Of course," König stands as well, walking with you to the door, "Danke Schön, hummelchen." He tells you quietly, holding the door above your head.

"Bitte schön, König," your pronunciation is hesitant, but still leaves him wide eyed staring down at you, "I Googled a few basics." You explain, as if that could be the reason for his silence.

"I see," König tries to keep his voice from sounding too tight, thinks he even succeeds at it, "Then, Gute Nacht."

"Gute Nacht!" You reply enthusiastically, giving a wave as you turn to leave. His fingers tighten on the door, grabbing something other than your throat. If you were going to speak his mother tongue so prettily, you should have at least warned him. Maybe then he wouldn't have to close the door half hard. You are going to be the death of him.

[itscherrylipsforme]

Everything fits into place: Oliver Quick x fem!reader

Part 1 here

Summary: After having fallen in love with you at an Oxford's library, Oliver planned everything out until he could have you wrapped around his fingers. Now that your school year is over, you have been invited to spend the firsts months of Summer in Saltburn. You were certainly not expecting what you found there, but don't worry, Ollie was already three steps ahead

Warnings: Post Saltburn fic, a little bit dark (it’s Oliver, what you expected?), age gap (he is around 15-17 years older), slightly innocent kin? (A little bit spicy, but nothing really sexual)

Requested: yes

Words: Something between 700-800 words

Author's rambles: As I have seen that people somehow enjoyed my shitty writing I decided to make part two. Hope you like it!

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Oliver hadn't told you much about Saltburn, you could only gather the crumbs of information he left once in a while. A beautiful big home in the northwest that he had inherited from a woman he considered to be kind of his "second mother" after she passed away, that was all that you knew about it. Once he also he mentioned that she had met her through her son, who had been in Ollie's year in uni, that had committed suicide when both of them were young. All of that seemed like tragic memories that your boyfriend tried to bury in his past, so you didn't want to dig much on it not to hurt him.

But during the three hours long car ride that you had to do from Oxford to your Summer destination, you were expecting that at least he could describe it with more the detail. To your surprise he didn't and when the two of you arrived at the mansion he was able to call "home" now, just surprised was not the exact word you would use to describe what you were feeling. When the maid who had opened the doors of that palace to the two of you was ordered to dismiss by "Mr Quick" as they referred him, you couldn't help but ask.

"Why didn't you tell me you were practically living like a prince, Ollie?"

"Had to make sure you truly loved me and weren't after my money, darling" He answered plainly and tried to change the subject "Come on, let me show you the place"

"You know I am not like that" You protested. Maybe you wouldn't go as far as saying that you were offended, but you would be lying if you said his words didn't hurt a little at least.

You trusted him with every piece of your heart and soul. Told him all your secrets and all the times you had lost all your hope. You loved him enough to talk about it when you fell like nothing more like some broken mess that no one, not even him, could fix. And yet he couldn't do the same? Couldn't he trust enough for this until now Somehow Oliver managed to read your thoughts from the expression of worry on your face

"My beautiful beautiful y/n I am aware of It now. But trust me, I know better than anyone else how far people can go to gain power, I needed to be sure" His eyes seemed to darken a little for a few brief second lost in his mind until he came back and rested his hand sweetly on your cheek "How can I apologize to my beloved girlfriend for putting her through a trial?"

"Well, one of the few things you did tell me about this place was that it had a library" A little grin played on your lips while he held your hand and guided you through the maze that mansion was.

Four weeks later, you two were laying in the bed you have been sharing during your stay. His arm around your waist a little bit too tight, as you had learned he liked, and your head resting on the crock of his neck. It was one of those lazy mornings that you could spend peacefully in each other embrace.

"You know every day for the rest of our life could be like this" His nose and lips dancing dangerously close to your face as his hand rubbed your back up and down.

"Ollie, that was a funny one" A small giggle echoed in the room.

"I am serious y/n" His big blue eyes glued to you as he started kissing, your forehead, your cheek, your lips... "We could sooner than later. Marry, have you in my bed each morning, and maybe a few kids around if you are up for it. Doesn't it sound good for your"

"I need to finish my degree first, Ollie" His lips now on your neck, and gosh he knew pretty well that you couldn't say no to anything when he did those kind of things.

"Of course you have that, I am not saying otherwise" Actually, you didn't need to finish it, once you were his you wouldn't have to work a single day in your life. But if you wished to gain your diploma to be happy, he wouldn't dare to say otherwise. "Maybe after you graduated, what do you think about?"

You just smiled at his sweet trail of kisses, and he took it as a yes. Soon enough you would be tied forever, soon enough you would be his wife, soon enough you two would be better than the Cattons have ever been. Soon enough, everything from his plan would fit into place.

[inklore]

crimson and clover.

part one | next part | series masterlist

premise: maybe you shouldn’t get high with eddie again but you can’t get him off of your mind, and his lips are too inviting to fight the growing addiction you’re succumbing to from the things he can do with them.

pairing: eddie munson x richgirl!reader

word count: 7k

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with plot, f receiving oral, fingering, a touch of voyeurism, weed smoking, virgin!eddie, teasing and banter, soft dirty talk, alluded blowjob, jealousy mention, cheesy fluff, shitty parentals.

etc: i’m literally obsessed with these two to the point of insanity!! like i’m not usually that much of a plot heavy girly but buckle up besties we in deep <3.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

It’s quite embarrassing, excruciatingly taxing, vexing and every other big word that you could remember and barely comprehend—but now are having a grave first-hand experience with—from those Jane Austen books you had to read in class.

Every ten sellable verb, feeling, pretext; all of them describing the exact state of your mind right now, and how superficial it made you feel. Aforementioned: excruciating, embarrassing.

A week has gone by since the night you spent with Eddie, and it’s all you find yourself thinking about.

Your mind plays a constant loop reel of everything that happened; the giggles, the kiss, the…other thing. At night when you want to sleep your mind is too busy thinking about whether or not Eddie’s thinking about it too, what happened. Or if he’s out bragging to his friends—something you have your doubts about. The two of you hadn’t discussed if this was an under-wraps kind of thing, it was probably common knowledge you wouldn't want it to be spread all over town. Which it would be, like wildfire.

None of your friends have called you to belittle you yet, so you doubt he’s told anyone.

But was it plaguing his mind as pathetically as it was yours? Or were you just so starved for decent human interaction that your mind was holding onto this one night like it was an aphrodisiac?

Maybe if you had received a call from him you wouldn’t be acting so…mortifyingly in your feelings for god knows why.

"Will we be graced with your presence across the tracks again, princess?" He had asked when he pulled up a block down from your house, not trusting his loud engine to not wake up your parents—or at the very least a neighbor who would see and then go running to your parents about the strange man they saw you with. It wasn’t a mess you wanted to deal with.

"Don't call me that." You had groaned, undoing your seatbelt and hiding your smile by biting the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t thought past this night, were still too busy rolling off that high from smoking and having Eddie against your mouth…inside of your mouth.

And maybe it was his smile, his thumb tapping on the steering wheel, eyes flashing to your mouth and back up like he didn’t know if he was allowed to kiss you again, or if he should.

But you reached across the dash and grabbed the pen randomly rested atop of it, leaned over to pull his hand from the wheel, and wrote your number on top of it.

"Don't call before six or after midnight.” You let your smile spread, threw the pen back on the dash, and opened the passenger door hopping out. “See you around, Munson.”

That was seven days ago and counting.

Never-ending counting.

It’s not like you expected him to call. You figured he probably wouldn’t, the two of you were not about to become best friends just because he cleaned your shoes, or let you smoke his weed, or because he came in your mouth. You didn’t—shouldn’t—have any expectations from Munson and you were sure he had none from you.

History didn’t make you friends. Sharing weed or an incredible kiss didn’t either.

So it wasn’t a big deal he hadn’t called.

And yet as you sit at one of the pristine white table cloth tables of the Country Club, your parents on either side of you, your fingers playing with the straw of your drink; you’re wondering if he’s called.

You’re so hyper-focused on that thought, of the thought of that stupid smile that you can’t shut your eyes without seeing—that you don’t hear your mother speaking to you until the words “I heard you two broke up” are spat through the air.

Reality crashes down on you, and you can’t help the grimace that flashes across your lips. Word really does spread like wildfire in this town. You hadn’t expected your parents to find out until at least a few weeks—or never, a girl could dream. Enough time for you to come up with an excuse at least, anything but the truth. Which would be nothing but unacceptably unrealistic to them.

“He’s not a good-”

“I didn’t ask for your feelings on the matter.” Your mother interrupts. Scowls down at the martini glass in her hand. “Fix it. You’re both going to the same college, a college your father called in many favors just to get you in. Since you couldn’t do it on your own.” Her last words are mumbled, snappy, and hurtful as always. “His parents run in the same social circle as us and could do wonders for your father's business. Don’t ruin this for yourself over girlish feelings.”

Your throat feels tight, constricted, suffocated. Your fingers have dropped from your straw to grip the end of your white pleated skirt under the table. You know even if you told your mother the full story, how you truly felt, how you’ve been with him since sophomore year and neither of you have even muttered the words ‘I love you’. And don’t think you ever will. Would.

Or how last year over spring break the two of you broke up for a month and you had felt more rejuvenated than any hundred-dollar spa treatment ever could. As if you had peeled off a deadweight and could finally feel something other than the caked-on layers of presser that were endlessly put onto you by him, by them.

Then he came back and said the same thing your mother did “don’t ruin this for us” when he had been the one to leave you. And you’d done the stupid thing and said yes. As the two of you kissed and made up your mind searched for the why, the how, the what-the-fuck-were-you doing.

And now with your mother's words as fresh as a reopened wound reminding you of the memory, you know you said yes because of her. Your father. Their need to seem so disgustingly perfect on the outside, to hide how ugly they were on the inside.

Were you as ugly as them?

The question makes your knee bounce, knuckles straining from the grip on your skirt.

Your mothers already moved on from you, talking to the friend at her side. Smiling, keeping that perfect crown in place. Turning towards your father you hope to see a sympathetic look, some wise words—wasn’t that what fathers were supposed to do? Wise words and comfort? But he’s not even looking at you, too busy laughing at something the man beside him has said.

You need to get out of here. Go home and scream into your pillow or something.

Standing from the table, a little too quickly. The legs of your chair screeching against the hardwood, your father finally looks at you.

“Everything alright?” A monologue of how everything is the farthest thing from being alright in the back of your throat and ready to be screamed. But then you can feel your mother's eyes on you, don’t have to turn to see her look of impassiveness to know it’s there.

“Yeah,” you give them both your best performed smile. “Just going to do what mom said, fix it.”

Your lie only gets you a hum from said woman and then she’s done with you and turning her head. Your dad gives you the weakest of smiles and asks if you need any money—for no reason at all. Shaking your head you quickly bid them goodbye and do your best walk-sprint out of the building.

The hot summer night air a welcome humidity from the suffocation you felt in there.

You have your parent's driver take you home. Screw your ex and screw your parents.

If your mother wanted him to be in your family so bad maybe she should drop her Pilates instructor and have him instead. It would take a hefty price—that you were sure your parents would gladly pay to get you to shut up and listen to them—to ever bring yourself to his front door and beg for him back.

You didn’t beg. For anyone. Over anything.

You asked. You got. Demanded. Sometimes you didn’t even need to ask. You were just given to. Your bank account and school career showed as much.

Fuck, maybe you were the Princess of Hawkins after all.

You start in a small sprint up the stairs to your room, your throat still feeling as if it’s being squeezed by your mother's words, indifference towards you, demands. Even with her not around you feel like you’re being suffocated by her.

You really shouldn’t have come back home.

Not for the summer. Not anytime. Should have just stuck to the one call a month and check in the mail. Life was more peaceful that way. At least you could breathe.

It was going to be one hell of a long, torturous summer.

“Someone called for you!”

You hear just as your foot lands on the last step. Your heart leaping in your chest as you turn and yell down, “who?”

“They didn’t say.” Your family housekeeper appears at the bottom of the stairs, a small smile on her face. “But they did leave their number and said to call them if you needed help on biology or something like that.” She shakes her head, “could barely understand them. There was loud music in the background.”

Eddie.

The grin that spreads across your lips is demeaning to your social status. Same with the way your heart feels like it’s pumping from your stomach now as you run back down the stairs and take the number from her, only to run back up them and to your room; dialing the number into the pink phone beside your bed, pacing the floor as you wait, hope, shamefully pray that he answers.

On the fifth ring he answers and when his voice floods through the phone when you hear the “shit-hold on” as he turns down the music blaring in the background, you feel like you can finally breathe again. No more tight throat. Suffocating. The only thing you feel now is that familiar giddy ache in your cheeks.

“Biology huh?”

You can hear the puff of air Eddie lets out from realizing it’s you, from the smile that you can tell is on his face when he speaks through the receiver, “I thought telling her I was ‘the weed guy’ would be worse, town freak was my second option.”

"Munson, it's summer no one's doing biology!"

“Incorrect. Summer school is a prison sentence I have had the displeasure of being sentenced to.” Of course, he has. You can’t help the laugh that comes out, one he joins in on.

There’s a silence that spreads where you can hear him fiddling with something on the other line.

And then he’s saying, “is the Princess busy or can she step away from the castle, and grace us, peasants, with her presence?"

You’re smiling again, fuck.

“She could, but I don't know, she might need payment." You say in your best uppity voice, flopping back on your bed. Your fingers coiling and uncoiling the cord hanging from the phone.

"Drats! Right when I’m out of gold doubloons too."

“Oooh, and I only take gold, looks like the peasants must go un-graced today.”

"Would thy majesty take my humble payment of the best weed in the county instead?" He puts on his best historically accurate voice that has you snorting.

“That’s very presumptuous of you to say it's the best."

"Did I say the best? Sorry, I meant the greatest.”

God, you despised how nice this felt. How the muscles in your cheeks were already sore and you hadn’t even been talking to him for more than five minutes. How you can’t remember someone calling you and it being like this, no gossip, no hounding questions or accusations.

Oh, how the normal half lives.

"I'll meet you where you dropped me off the other night, okay?"

"Your chariot will be waiting, princess."

When Eddie picks you up and the two of you fly across town, sharing silent smiles, the town passing in the rear view, heavy metal blaring throughout the speakers—that he doesn’t turn down until his van comes to a stop through a wooded clearing, in front of a familiar lake.

Lovers Lake.

"Really, Munson? Trying to get lucky again?" You tease, a cheeky grin covered up by him laughing behind the hair that moves in his face as he undoes his seatbelt and moves to the back of the van.

You follow him into the back, sitting on the van floor. Eddie on the sofa, much like the last night the two of you were together. Except now you’re sitting with your legs crossed out in front of you, back against one of the walls of the van.

You let him do his thing of pulling out the metal box and rifling through it while he finds what he needs. Occupying your time with looking at the newly added amps and wires that weren’t there the other night.

"What's your band called again?"

"Corroded Coffin.”

You smile remembering him telling you that when you were partnered together. Remember how he drummed his fingers on the desk and air guitared you a silent piece to emphasize how good he swore he could play, how good the band was.

"You should come see us play sometime. If you're into that.” He looks up at you through his bangs, his fingers moving in his lap as he rolls the joint.

You give the tiniest smirk as you say, “like a date?”

His shoulders are shrugging, ringed fingers scratching his cheek. “If a grimy bar and drunk geezers falling off their barstools is your ideal date then yes. Absolutely.” You share a smile and then he’s going back to his task at hand.

When he’s finished rolling, and after you’re done eyeballing him: watching how his fingers work along the rolling papers, those damn rings distracting you, and finding yourself at a loss for words when you watch him bring it to his lips and run his tongue along the seam to close it.

You were here to get away. To kill time. To smoke. Nothing else.

What happened the other night should stay a one time thing. With how your insides keep acting up from the mere thought of it. This was dangerous territory already.

"Your payment, princess." Eddie holds out the freshly rolled joint, doing a little bowing motion as he does. Making you laugh and playfully snatch it from his fingers.

Bringing it to your lips, he pulls out a lighter from the front pocket of his jeans. Leaning forward he flicks it and holds it to the other end, lighting it for you. His eyes on yours as you forget to inhale for half a second, too busy staring back at him. The thick smoke almost making you choke after you’ve come to and inhale; an intensity holding between your gazes.

He’s so close, if you were to remove the joint you could lean in and….

Nope. Not happening. Not tonight.

You quickly move back over to your spot and take a few puffs, praying that it chills whatever tempestuous feelings were burning in your lower belly right now.

The two of you fall into an easy rotation, puffing, passing, Eddie making a joke and you losing it. A peaceful cycle that soon has you forgetting about the earlier events of the day and how you had felt; your nerves now lax, body feeling good. And not just because of the weed, but because of the boy sitting in front of you.

A fact you let yourself feel.

The only thing you allow yourself to feel.

You’re tapping your foot mindless against the bottom of the couch to the metal playing through the van, ignoring the friction it causes against the pant leg of Eddie’s jeans; his leg pressed against yours as the two of you have your limbs spread out.

Your fingers are flipping through a random magazine you’ve found in one of the many piles of junk on the floor. “Who sings this?”

"Corroded Coffin.”

Your head snaps up a little too fast giving you whiplash, as you look up at him—he’s already staring back, how long has he been watching? And have your cheeks always been this warm, or is the thought that he had possibly been watching you for god knows how long that’s making you feel overheated right now?

“This is your band?!”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “I don't see any blood coming from your ears so I take it your majesty approves?"

You make a face, shrugging. "I was swallowing down my vomit actually, was trying to hide it with being nice."

“Mmm.” He replies, his hair covering his smile as he fiddles with the chain connected to his jeans.

It’s an effort to pull your eyes away from him and go back to flipping through the magazine—as if you were doing anything other than looking at the pictures. Your high mind having very little comprehension of the words printed across the flimsy papers.

That comfortable silence spreads between the two of you again, your foot going back to its tapping. Your head doing a little bob along with the beat.

“Was that a jive I just saw?”

Your movements stop, “a jive?” The snort of laughter that comes deep from within your throat should be embarrassing. If it were anyone else in front of you you know you’d do everything in your power to cover it up.

“Who says that?”

“I know many people who say it.”

“Are they 80 and over?”

Eddie shakes his head, his laugh dying down. “You like it, the music?”

“I’ve heard worse.” You shrug nonchalantly. Close the magazine and toss it back in its pile of junk.

“I’ll take it!” His fist pumping in the air in triumph.

Shaking your head you send an eye roll his way. Your heart doing a little leap in your just at how cute you think he looks right now. Your mind working overtime to hone in on the little things that light up his features when he smiles or laughs—and then the little things that don’t matter at all: like how this is your second time here and the first he had scurried around and tried to move his random messes out of the way, to clean it up. But this time around he didn’t even bother, as if a comfortability has already grown between the two of you. You hadn’t run for the hills, already knew what he was about, that this van was a second home to him by the looks—and he knew you wouldn’t care what it looked like. Hadn’t made a fuss the first time so why not let you see him more in his realm?

It makes a weird affection burn in your gut and has you toying with the bottom of your skirt to distract yourself from it.

Just listen to the music. The band. It’s pretty good.

Which isn’t shocking to you in the slightest. It only took you all your school career, and give or take a few years, to realize that Eddie Munson was a lot of things but mediocre was not one of them.

But your mind is racing a mile a minute, unlike the first time, you smoked Eddie’s stash. Which meant that you were the problem, the issue causing your mind to run from the blissful high into difficult feelings and misunderstandings of said feelings.

Go figure.

Your legs are still touching each other. You can feel the bare minimum of his heat against your legs, but it’s enough to add flashbacks of the other night into the mix of your mind. How you could feel the heat from other parts of his body; under you, beside you, against you, inside your mouth.

The tender skin of your bottom lip quickly becomes raw from your teeth, as the memories bombard you. As you grow warmer and warmer. And make the mistake of looking up at him, watching him, staring at him—and then he’s catching you doing just that and you have the urge to ask him if he’s thought about you sense that night, or why he hadn’t called sooner.

Questions with obvious answers.

But your mind is working against you here.

And the last thing you want him to think is that you’re just sitting at home waiting for him to call. Like you’re desperate for it, begging for it. Something you do not do. And was not about to start for Eddie Munson.

“Did you have plans later?” He asks.

Making your brows come together, a confused look on your face as you wonder if you’ve missed something. If he spoke before this and you just didn’t hear because of your internal war.

“The outfit,” he points with a finger, “it’s chic.” A lopsided grin pulls up the corners of his mouth just as you laugh.

“Chic?” You shake your head, “I was at the Country Club with my parents.”

“And you let me steal you away from such fun with the other royals? Honored." His hand splays over his chest.

You make a face, “my mother thinks I’m crawling on my hands and knees back to lover boy." You drop the same nickname Eddie had the other night for your ex, seeing his expression change from it. His smile faltering, fingers brushing at a few loose strands of hair in his face.

“Are you?”

“If I was, would I be here with you?"

"Maybe you needed some devil induced bravery to help you crawl."

"I wouldn't waste a good high on him,” you scoff.

Eddie’s silent for a second too long for your sanity and then he’s saying, “instead you're here wasting it on me."

"It's not a waste.” The words slip out. Come out so naturally that you don’t realize how sentimental of a meaning they have until you see Eddie’s expression. See the softness of it, and how you cannot bear the way your insides feel right now.

What’s the worst thing that can happen from you hooking up with Munson again?

“At least it doesn't have to be.." you’re pulling at your skirt again, can’t bring your eyes up to his as the words hang in the air—an invitation.

"Hitting on me now, princess?” His leg pushes into yours playfully, “who knew you could be so flattering. So charitable.” He teases.

You only look up to scowl at him, because you were not hitting on him—maybe, not really, you didn’t hit on people, you were hit on. But like many things around Munson it had changed, morphing itself into something you don't recognize; something better. You are going to tell him as much, flaunt your Princess status tenfold. But can’t stop looking into his big brown eyes, can’t stop the burning in your stomach going lower lower until it turns into that same lust you felt for him the other night.

And fuck it.

You’ve already dipped your toe over that line once, mine as well put your whole foot in.

"Shut up, Munson.” Your retort is less ice than it is fire, a breathy huff that you mean to sound playful but miss the mark. “Come here,” you hesitate. "Please.”

The beam that spreads across his face is anything but subtle or shy, promptly dropping down to his knees and crawling the short distance to you. A position he stays in even as he brings his lips to yours.

The kiss, his lips, his fingertips at the side of your neck just as heart stopping and pulsating-ly devastating to your insides as last time. A pang of jealousy shoots through your belly at the thought of how many girls he has kissed before you, he’s had to have kissed a couple, a handful maybe, you weren’t this good at kissing if you hadn’t. Kisses didn’t just feel like this, normally. Right?

Or maybe you just weren’t kissing the right people. Person.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to move into the realm of breathless pants and tongues against each other, teeth biting into lips. And unlike last time Eddie doesn’t need an invitation to touch you; his hands go from your neck to your cheeks, your jaw, chin, the back of your skull, and into your hair. The tips of his fingers making a road map of every sensitive spot above your collarbone.

Eventually, thanks to some maneuvering and awkward giggles the two of you are laid on the floor of the van—you on your back, Eddie on his side with his front pressed flush against you. His lips have veered from yours, leaving a path of kisses and nips along your jaw, under it, to your neck where he runs his tongue along a sensitive spot of skin, his lips wrapping around it to suck softly and then sink his teeth into.

A breathy gasp strangled out of you, your hips moving against the air. An imprint of Eddie smirking against your skin from the noise, left behind when he kisses just below the area. Fuck.

“How many–” you swallow, lick your lips, breathless, “how many girls have you kissed like this?”

It’s probably not the right thing to ask right now, but your mind keeps going back to it. That jealousy making your stomach sink as you anticipate his answer, as you dread and wish your body and brain were working together instead of on separate plains of pain and pleasure.

“Uh, a dozen obviously.” He laughs softly against you when you dig your nails into his arm playfully, in replace of the scowl you’d shoot him down with if you could turn your head—or if you wanted him to stop the knee shaking presses of his lips right now, which you’re delirious but not that delirious to stop him. “Only you, princess.”

The information shouldn’t have you soaring any more than you already are, shouldn’t make those jealousy twists get snuffed out by a belly full of butterflies, and flutters that go all the way down to your throbbing clit. But it does and you’re reeling at the sentiment that you’re probably Eddie’s first everything in this sense. In this realm.

It’s not triumph you feel, it’s something softer and dangerously close to affection and attachment that has no business filling your chest with warmth right now.

And instead of feeling the aforementioned feelings, distracting yourself with giving him pleasure—and to hear those beautiful noises from the other night—your hand is moving from his arm to the bulge pressing to your hip.

Your fingers and palm run up his clothed length and pull those delicious breathy grunts from him. No man should sound this good, no sound should have you feeling like you’re melting into the floor.

Your mouth finding Eddie’s in a hungry kiss, a need to swallow down his noises like a drug, needing sedation. You could get addicted to this if you’re not careful.

Your fingers drag themselves up to his belt, try to blindly pull the leather through its buckle, the loops. And just like a repeat of the night before, his hand is there to stop you.

“Gotten shy on me?” You ask with a coyness that makes him give you a ‘not in this lifetime’ look.

“I just want to make it crystal clear that I didn’t bring you here for this.” His tone only holds gentleness, his hand bringing yours up to his mouth to brush a few kisses across your knuckles.

“Even if you did,” your fingers twist a strand of his hair, “I wouldn’t be upset.”

And you mean that. If Eddie had only brought you here for a replay of the other night or something further than that, you know—even if it was against your better judgment—you wouldn’t be too upset about it, or at all. It was hard to be upset with lips like his pulling out smiles and whimpers from you.

But it also means that Eddie had called you because he wanted to see you, to hang out…which is harder for you to grasp than the prospect of only casual hookups between the two to you.

Those Jane Austen feelings back with a vengeance in your chest cavity.

Your answer makes a chuckle echo in his chest. “But,” he’s looking at you with all seriousness within those doe eyes. “Now that we’re–” he motions to your current positions with his hand, “here. I want to return the favor. For the other night.”

Oh?

Oh.

Pressing your lips together, you do your best to hide the excitement that shoots up your spine, nodding in a super-casual-not-too-fast way. “Yeah, okay, yes, totally.”

“Totally?” He mocks you, smirking.

“Totally.”

Then his lips are on yours again without needing further confirmation. The kiss slower this time compared to the last lip lock that made your bottom lip feel like it was inflamed from his teeth. Your mouths move in perfect sync, and if you could figure out a way you know you could get off by just his kiss alone. He moves your hand back to his crotch, giving you back access to his hardness as his hand begins its travel down your chest. Palming your boobs over your white polo, his thumb moving across your nipple, making you whimper. Your chest pushing up into him.

The closer he gets—the further his fingers move along the fabric of your clothes—the anticipation of where you want him, where he wants to be, makes your legs pull together. Thighs in a tight lock, your attempted relief of the pressure on your clit only makes the throbbing worse. You can feel how soaked you are through the cotton of your panties, know that once you feel his fingers slip inside of you it’s going to be game over.

There's a whoosh of air against your thighs from Eddie pushing up the top of your skirt, putting your clothed pussy on display for him. His mouth pulling from yours as he looks down at you and takes you in. The hunger in his eyes turning the brown hues in them black. You’re about to ask him if he wants you to take your underwear off, his fingers slipping past the elastic of them stopping you. His palm warm against your mound.

Eddie runs his middle finger through your folds, voice low and gravelly when he says. “You’re so wet.” All you can do is mewl, bite your already raw lip as you try to keep your hips still, try to hold yourself back from fucking his hand the way you want to. His fingers explore you for a bit, misstepping your throbbing clit each time the tips of his fingers come close to it. Even as you finally let yourself move your hips a fraction of an inch up, he’s still not touching the spot you really need, instead, he’s moving every place you don’t need him. Until he slips a finger inside of you too aggressively, making an “ahh” hiss out of you.

Your face scrunched when he turns to look down at you, halting his actions. Body tense, “did I hurt you?”

He’s never done this before, it’s not new knowledge and yet thanks to your hormone filled haze—and the need to come—you were expecting him to know all the places to touch. To not be as aggressively pushy right from the get-go.

“No,” you sigh, laughing softly. “Sort of, just…can I show you?” You’re nervous he’s going to take it the wrong way. That this is where it’s going to end because it'll be awkward and he’ll be embarrassed or mad or something.

But there you go thinking Eddie is one thing when he’s the exact opposite. The endless surprise of this boy never ceasing to show you why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover—or by its fellow shitty townspeople.

Eddie nods, eyes soft and tentatively looking at you in the same way an excited student looks thrilled to learn from a teacher.

Wasting no time you loop your fingers into the elastic of the cotton covering your pussy, pulling the garment down your legs and tossing it to the side. Moving comfortably back into your lying position, skirt still pushed up, completely showcasing yourself to him. A flutter sinking low into your belly when you watch Eddie’s throat bob from a tight swallow as he looks down at your wet cunt.

And while he watches, stares at you, you’re staring up at him. Watching the hunger and desire to learn—to be taught—displaying itself across his face; your hand moves between your legs, the pad of your index finger putting the lightest of pressers on your clit. The moan you let out has Eddie’s hair falling in your face for half a second as his eyes snap to your face. As he watches your mouth part, brows come together, breaths shaky and weak as you touch yourself. Rubbing slow circles against your throbbing clit, where you wanted, needed to feel him. Where you’ve been throbbing and aching for what felt like hours—days—for him.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he spreads your legs wider, holding it up and against him below your knee so you’re completely open for him. So he can see you run your fingers down between your folds to catch the gathering arousal at your entrance and pull it back up to coat your clit.

You should be talking right now, should be directing him with your words, but you can’t. Have never touched yourself in front of anyone before, never had to, or wanted to. The act of touching yourself strictly permitted for when you were alone in your room at night. Never like this. But you’ve been convinced. Turned over a new leaf in the things you like, enjoy; the way Eddie is watching your fingers, the way he brings his gaze back up so fucking slow to look at your face. To hold eye contact with you as you moan and tremble. That mounting pressure already starting, so fast, so good.

Eddie leans into the small distance of space between your mouths to swallow down one of your moans that comes out at the same time his lips press to yours. “You’re so pretty.” He whispers between kisses. “How many guys have you let watch you like this?”

You whimper, breath hot on his mouth, “none. Only you.”

He’s grinning against your mouth, “you do this at night when you’re alone in your bed?”

“Yes.” Humming, you feel breathless, can feel your hips gyrating against your hand, legs trembling. Know you’re so close. But don’t want to make yourself come. Want Eddie to be the one to make you come, want his fingers to be inside of you when your walls constrict and carry you through that euphoric high.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, princess.” His head lifts back up to look back down at your pussy, the wet sounds of your arousal against your finger and clit filthy.

Have you ever been this wet before? This turned on? Fuck, Eddie Munson.

Without thinking—reeling off of your own need—you grab his hand that's still holding your leg to him. “Put your hand over mine.” Following directions eagerly Eddie does so, places his searing palm atop yours, his index finger resting perfectly against yours; moving along as you go back to stroking your clit. “Like this, slow–ahh–circles.” The last syllables of your words choked out over a moan. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, know you’re probably making a mess on the makeshift carpeting below you.

He copies your movements for one, three, six circles and then you’re snaking your hand away and it’s his finger on your clit. The change in feeling is instantaneous and has your hips stuttering, whines coming out weaker. Your hand gripping the material of his shirt, needing to ground yourself. To remind you that yes, this is reality and not some crazy out of body wet dream.

“Like that?” Eddie asks against your cheek.

“Yes.” You don’t think your moans have ever sounded this wailing, this intense to the point where you’re almost embarrassed at how good you feel right now. How your body is shaking and mewling and reaching out for him for pleasure. In need of it.

This time when he slips a finger into you it’s slow, so good and gentle as he pumps it inside of you, that amplifies the squelching of your wetness. “This okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

He fucks you like that, his middle finger fucking up into you, his thumb brushing against your clit at just the right angle that has you on the verge of seeing stars. You’re so so close, know that if he keeps doing that you’re going to be a goner–

“Wait, what are you doing?” Your brows pull up in confusion as you watch him detach himself from your side, removing his hand from between your thighs. Settling himself between your legs on his knees.

You expect him to start undoing his belt, figure he’s ready to take it further, aren't mad at the thought—but he’s surprising you again. “You got to taste, it’s only fair, princess.” Eddie smirks, situates himself in a comfortable hunching position, and then you’re gasping as he runs the tip of his tongue along your clit. Any rebuttal you could have thought to reply with dead in the water.

“Fuck, Eddie,” there are no missteps like the first time he was down there with his hand. Mimicking the movements you showed him with your fingers with his tongue, with a few added experimental licks and sucks that have your breath caught in your throat. “Ohmygod, and you’ve never done this before?” You curse, feel a breathy laugh fall across your clit. One, then another, finger slipping into you moving in tandem with his tongue.

Only one other guy has gone down on you and it was not as nearly intense or agonizing pleasurable as this—to the point where your thighs are closing in around his head, hands in his hair. Back arching. You feel like a woman crazed, like you had no idea you could feel this searing, pleasure this good.

You mean to say something, to warn him, to say any words that you can dredge up from the crevice of your dysfunctional brain; but all you can do is scream as you come against his mouth, as your pussy convulses around his fingers. Your hips rolling up into him, thighs shaking, body spasming as his name falls from your lips like a sinful prayer.

“Munson,” you whine, pulling at his chin once you’ve come down enough to function. Once you can finally see something other than the white bursts of light across your vision. Eddie’s tongue still running along your sensitive clit to the point of oversensitivity, that you have to pull him up.

His chin and cheeks are damp, bangs pressed to his forehead. Find yourself laughing at his tousled hair—no thanks to your fingers. There’s a cheshire grin stretched across his face as he runs the back of his hand over his mouth. Crawling up your body to hover over you and kiss you, a whimper coming from your throat as you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Wow.” You breathe, smile over at him as he rolls back to his side beside you. A palm resting over where your heart is still beating a mile a minute.

“I’ll take it.” Your laughs are in unison as a look of triumph flashes in those big eyes.

“If only you were that much of an eager learner in school, might have graduated, joined me on the road to success.” You pick.

“Not even seconds after I make her come and she’s already wounding me.” His chuckle muffled by the press of another kiss to your lips. “Better than lover boy?” Eddie teases.

“Can’t compare something that never happened.”

He makes a disgusted noise from the back of his throat, “no wonder you left him for the steerage.”

You hum nodding, turning your head to the side to press a kiss to his throat. Would it be too sentimental of you to tell him that he’s better than anyone you’ve been with? That no one has ever made you come that hard, not even yourself. That you can feel your wetness rolling down your ass cheeks and inner thighs from how wet he made you.

It could be a mood killer, sentiment isn't even your thing.

Plus it’s his turn now. Fair’s fair right?

There’s no complaint from Eddie as you move on top of him, roll your hips against his hardness, the seam of his jeans making you shudder from still feeling over-sensitive, as you move down the length of his body to rid him of his jeans and take him into your mouth.

“Here.” There’s a cassette tape gripped in his hand, the back of his head resting on the headrest of the driver's seat. You’re parked in the same spot he picked you up earlier, a block from your house. “Since you liked it so much,” he smiles.

Sentiment. Fuck.

Your smile is too cheesy and girlish for you to wrap any logistics into your head about it just being a tape, as you take it from and see his band name in black marker at the top. Your stomach fluttering. A simple gift that's not a big deal. You have to remind yourself as you try not to lean over and kiss him on that beautiful mouth of his.

“Here,” you say as you pull off your underwear and drop them into his lap. “A gift for a gift.”

You don’t let yourself stick around to see the heart-palpating look in his eyes as he grips the fabric in his hand and laughs, shouting “gold doubloons could never compare!” out of the open window. Making you press a finger to your lips, shooting daggers at him through the windshield as you pick up the pace towards your house. Trying to quiet your giggles and wipe the big girlish grin on your face.

[queenendless]

💜❤️‍🩹Because You Live (Toji Fushiguro x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️‍🩹💜

A/n: It finally happened ... wtf? Blame Sage's Rain on YT and his Toji video for making me feel so bad for Toji.

Its my first time writing just Toji stuff and it may not be the best but I got inspired and needed to put something out so there!

Also why is Because You Live by Jessie McCartney seems like the theme for Megumi's parents? Listen to it while reading this if you want.

Credit to yeagernx on Pinterest for these edited pins.

DON'T PLAGIARIZE, STEAL, COPY, TRANSLATE MY FANFIC CONTENT. REBLOG, LIKE AND FOLLOW INSTEAD PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

Toji's rough heart pounded against his sturdy chest.

In their small urban apartment family room, his giant burly form leaned against the archway as he peered down, his narrowed eyes softening at the sight before him.

The decent sized TV screen played lowly in the background, showcasing a random movie, serving as the only light he used to move through the room. The family room's floor was draped with comforters and blankets of the plush variety. Many fluffy soft pillows accompanied them. His two kids noggins used you as their personal pillow.

Tsumiki's cheek nuzzles your side as she squeezed her white dog plushie in one arm while Megumi was tucked against your other side as he pinned his black dog plush between you and himself.

You were on your back, your mouth slightly agape, as you softly snored, drool trailing down the side of your mouth.

Toji snorted out a dry chuckle.

For most of his life, he was the Invisible Man.

To topple the society that his family prided on to the point of abusing and torturing him over for not amounting to their standards and beliefs, he became the Sorcerer Killer.

After losing his wife; the first love of his life that made him believe he was worth so much more than what his family's hatred conditioned in him, he felt himself succumbing to those very demons of his former life.

Barely able to sustain a suitable life for his son; his blessed gift from his late mother.

Having a daughter now to add to the family bundle; her mother dumping her on him when she had the chance then bolted.

Taking any job he could to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table, stuck in a shitty neighborhood with no other options.

So how …

How did you wind up smack dab in the middle of it all?

From an infamous disturbed creep stalking and following his kids on their way home from school one afternoon to you reporting the incident before as his attempts to nab Tsumiki resulted in Megumi's shadow technique nearly swallowing the bastard alive when you knocked them out by a smack with that stray metal pipe you scrounge up by the litter around.

Tsumiki trusted you, feeling indebted to you for saving them. A skeptical Megumi didn't sense the same inkling of dread from you that the now arrested man had.

But when you saw Toji Fushiguro stroll up through the apartment door, he was a bit baffled to see you in their cramped living room, sitting on the floor while braiding Tsumiki's hair as she and Megumi watched anime on their small TV.

You were smitten by the giant burly man as you explained what occurred and the short version of your backstory.

Your father bailed on you and your mother recently passed away in her sleep, which forced you to sell the only home you've ever known. Wandering the streets with all you could take with you. Saving two kids you didn't know at all but knowing a monster when you saw one that day.

Toji offered you to live with them as thanks for saving his kids when he couldn't as well as in exchange for watching over them when he was out doing whatever money making task was available to him.

Why would he take a chance on you, a practical stray?

Well …

Obviously he had Shiu do a background search on you over the phone that very same day to double check your story. When it all does check out, he feels a bit of weight lift off his broad shoulders.

Plus …

He saw glimpses of his first love in you.

Even your smile gave him glimpses of his late wife. But you weren't her.

He thought no one could fill in the void she left behind.

Making it that much harder to live the simple life and raising kids that he felt was out of his element.

But at that moment, seeing your relieved overjoyed smile breaking out across your face when he said you could stay, it already began filling in the cracks his heavy heart bore.

He noticed the endeared affection you bore in your gaze for his rugrats as trickles of sunset hit your figure through the slips of the blinds and curtains.

He wouldn't admit it straight out at the start of this new journey, but you glowed like an angel.

Over time, as days turned to weeks then turned to months, those hard kept emotions within him became unbridled at the seams.

Walking his kids to and from school, making their lunches, cleaning up around the place, finding part time jobs here and there that helped pay the bills, being greeted warmly by you every time he came home, finding you winding down after tucking the babies to bed.

One late night of such endeavors leading up to it found him spotting you laying on the couch, partially awake to the sound of his heavy footsteps when you felt warmth overtake you as he kissed you tentatively on the lips.

Watching your e/c eyes fluttering open up at him made him want to press further. To feel you slowly, tenderly returning the kiss only drove him to get down on his knees as his burly arms wrapped around your waist, pressing his strapping chest against your soft chest, submerged in your sweet scent and you drowned in his overwhelming warmth.

Your hands weaved up those sculpted arms and brushed his nape to his shivering delight, your fingers curled through his hair, bringing his face in closer as your heavy sighs and flustered whimpers made the growling beast want to nip on those lips before his tongue clashed with yours, swallowing you whole.

In his once clouded, now desperate eyes, he didn't want to let you go. To him, you're beautiful, inside and out. Literally, the beauty to his beast.

“I want you, angel. Be mine.”

You could barely think coherently as you pulled away from those addicting lips of his.

“Only when you quit the gambling and get your act together. Help me find a better place to raise them. Be there for them … do it for them … please?”

Unlike Shiu's stern lectures on quitting his gambling routines because he was just that bad at it when it comes to luck, the way your pleading eyes and pouting lips made a long forgotten sensation rise in him.

The willingness to forsake his pride.

To do what was best for all instead of dwindling it all away.

What was best for his kids … what he wanted … if you wanted that too —

“Okay.”

His deep, breath stealing kiss made your toes curl and your form fit perfectly with his own as he laid down with you, moving about until he laid flat on his back with you splayed out on top of him on your tummy.

On that night, he gained a new light in his life, cocooning you in his brawny grasp, nodding off together on the couch.

In this cursed world, he had been giving a new blessing.

A second chance.

Flash forward back to the present.

In your new shared apartment; finding one with help from Shiu, in a safer part of the urban setting, just a stroll away from the kids school, and with a great view of the now starry sky.

Brushing back your loose hair strands, your quiet whimper at the sensation made him smirk before kissing your forehead. “Hey.”

You yawned a bit. “Welcome home.”

“Now what's going on here?” Toji asked as he grabbed the remote to turn off the TV.

“Slumber party. Fushiguro Edition.” You mumbled, knowing his superhuman hearing could pick it up.

Toji snorted before ruffling Megumi's head gently. "Ya want to get them to bed or …?”

“Too comfy … and sleepy … to move.” You quietly whined.

“Then make room for Papa Bear, Mama Bear.���

You giggled at his gruff response, cradling Megumi as Toji carefully lifted Tsumiki out of your grasp to lay her on his chest instead of having her crushed between you both. With his veiny giant hand resting on the small of her back and his other jacked arm wrapping around your shoulders to bring you flush against his side.

Seeing Tsumiki smile and snuggle into his chest made you softly cooed to which a blushing red Toji shushed you despite his grinning face.

“Go back to sleep, you.”

You leaned in to smooch the scar on the side of his mouth. “Night Toji.” Using his shoulder as your pillow now, you easily fell back asleep.

The moonlight trickled through the gaps of the curtains, serving as the only light now. Eyeing his small family in his hold, Toji felt himself unwinding, his sleepy head plopping against yours.

He pressed a drawn out kiss to your forehead, yawning as well, welcoming a good night's rest. With all of you.

“Night … Y/n.”

[estjbeaver]

𝑵𝒐𝑵𝒖𝒕𝑵𝒐𝒗

[Bakugou Katsuki]

[NSFW]

Reblog | Comment | Enjoy, ig

Warning! Teasing sex. Finger sex. Yeah... that's about it. Sex.

Fuck, you were being a tease. You stood in the mirror of your bathroom and looked at your chosen outfit. That being black lacy lingerie.

A small recap: the friend group had agreed upon taking part in the no nut November challenge. Some were against it at first, but their egoes ended up giving in. Bakugou Katsuki, your boyfriend, just so happened to have been one of these unlucky souls.

It'd been a long and excruciating month due to the lack of intimacy. You could still relieve yourself should it be needed, but the poor stubborn hero simply had to bare with the discomfort of desire.

Fuck, you were being a tease. You were curious to know how long he could last before succumbing to your alluring tactics. The door to your apartment clicked open after you heard the keys jingle. It opened and closed and Katsuki called out that he was home.

"You hiding or something?" He asked, wlaking around and searching for you.

"Just trying out a new outfit I bought," you called out from the bathroom. "Uhm, mind checking and seeing if it's okay?"

"Tch. You need to stop spending your money or shitty fashion," he replied in his usual manner. Translated, he actually meant that he really wanted to see what you had gotten for yourself.

One final glance of confidence at your reflection and you left the bathroom. He was still in the kitchen, scavenging for ingredients to cook with for the two of you.

His back was turned facing you. You rolled your eyes and continued the conversation in the most casual way possible.

"I personally think this is the best one so far," you started, looking down at your langirie. He turned his head over his shoulder, then with surprised, wide eyes turned his whole body. "What do you think?"

Asked seductively with fox eyes. Slyly provoking him and knowing exactly what you were doing to him. He swallowed thickly. He combed his fingers through his hair.

"Fuck, you're such a fucking tease."

"No I'm not," your innocent play was what broke him. "What? Don't you like my outfit? I bought it specially for you..."

You were on the kitchen counter.

Your legs were spread out.

Your mouth being sucked at and kissed by Katsuki.

Fuck that nnn shit. He was going to devour you right then and there. You pulled away from the heated kiss and grinned.

"But Baby, what about the challenge?"

"Fuck the challenge," he kissed you again. "And fuck you."

"Please do."

The beautiful laced underwear was burned from your skin. Big needy hands touched you all over. From your back to your neck to your arms to your breasts. Wherever his fingers roamed, you pleaded for more.

Bretahless and panting you tried muffling your moans. His mouth cupped your nipples and gnawed at them as if he were a hungry newborn.

Red and purple marks were already decorating your neck and collar bone. Tits covered in bitemarks.

He lowered himself closer to a crouch, kissing butterfly kisses all along your stomach. The sensations had you creaming your pants.

A soft peck was planted against the singular fabric you had left on your body. His hand massaged your thighs and his eyes glared up into yours.

"Since when are you so patient?" You stuttered through rigid breaths. "Take it off already."

He stood back up, gripped your chin with his hand, and stared stoicly into your soul.

"No."

"Huh? What do you mean- ah! Shit!" Your words slummered together. Against the gabrick, aggressively rubbing up your slit, were his fingers.

"You can't be a tease without being fucking teased," he lectured.

It flew over your head, though. Nothing really made sense due to the chaotic madness that drove your lust to insanity. He wasn't gentle at all. You were grateful for the panties, otherwide you might've cum already.

His fingers kept rubbing and rubbing, irritating your clit closer and closer to sensational relief.

"Fuck," you moaned. A hand gripped at Katsuki's supporting arm that rested on the counter beside you. He didn't utter a sound and kept a firm gaze on your trembling form.

You tried moaning out his name but even that was a fail. Your legs tensed up and your toes curled. Nails dug into his skin and your eyes tightly shut.

He kept on going at the same oace until he knew every last bit of your orgasm had been rode out. Your pussy leaked cum into your panties. He could feel the dampness against the fabric.

You were breathless. "You're so mean." He could only snicker. When some sense of strength returned you reached for the waistband of his pants. He stopped you. "What? Don't want me to take care of your not-so-little problem?"

He placed both hands either side of you on the counter, trapping you competely.

"I agreed to this stupid challenge," he kissed you gently. "And I don't fucking lose."

© all content belongs to estjbeaver '22. do not modify or repost.

Maintream

Bakugou

[poordeadsejanus]

TBOSAS gave an intense look at the map of panem pre-president snow era, so I pieced it together to make a more official map than anything i've seen thus far. plus, i'm insane about fictional maps for literally no reason. [keep in mind, this is shitty screenshots that i've put together and the screen the map appears on (during lucky's weather report) appears to be rounded, so some of the proportions and such might be off. ] more stuff under the cut

so, these are the images i used to make this:

and i pieced them together as best i could, some of the borders, like the bottom right of 12 and the bottom of 5 became sort of a guessing game because they were covered up/hard to see.

doing that and cropping/pasting them together gave me this image (same as at the top of post)

red lines are clear country borders, yellow are district borders, purple is any of the areas i was unsure about. As we can see from this, districts 7, 10, and 13 (not labelled on this map because at this point in canon-time, it's 'gone') have no definite ending borders, so it's hard to even guess where they would end at. using this i made this more polished map using each district's colours that are listed on fandom dot com

the unclear edges are left blurred because really i don't know where they end...

we know that panem is formerly north america, so i laid the image over a map of north america and got this:

it took a little adjusting because again, my map is based off of a warped television screen, but, we end up with something like this. some interesting things to note is that a lot of coast has presumably eroded away as time passed -- we lost all of baja, and most of florida and socal, and some of virginia and north carolina, and many pieces of the mexican states, though none in their entirety . the places where panem extends over NA water spaces (districts 6, 7, 13) are either from receding water levels or translation issues from the warping of the in-movie screen... or, my own personal error, i guess lol.

again, as far as 7, 10, and 13, their end borders are up to speculation, but i'd imagine 7 extends up to near the edge of the northern canadian borders and maybe into alaska -- though i can't say because that's a huge chunk of space (it is the lumber district, though, so it probably goes as high as the trees are...). same goes for 10: i'd guess it goes south a bit more to near the nartual borders, but likely in any low-elevation areas (near the southern provinces) the sea has swallowed up the land. as for 13, it likely extends more near norther quebec and out toward the maritime provinces (though i'd estimate that most of those are either completely underwater or complete above it, so there's no islands going on). truly though, it's anyone's guess, so let me know your thoughts on it if you made it this far down!

future-panem, like during the events of the hunger games, definitely has changed district borders. we knows there's fencing and forbidden area, so the districts are definitely far smaller and there's space between them (no man's land) so that there is little-to-no communication between districts.

anyway, thanks for checking this out, i spent too much time on this to come out with very little practical use, but if you're like me and you like knowing where fictional locations are/how they're laid out, this is for you

[malleleothreesome]

TWST characters in 2023 Yumejoshi Poll results (Fellow Honest dominates)

For those unaware, Yumejoshi is the term for self shipping with canon characters. Every year, it seems note.com does a poll where Yumejoshi Japanese women vote for their favorite characters that year.

Out of the 100 available slots on the list, 7 TWST characters made it. To summarize this year's results compared to previous: Trey Clover stays winning (he and Idia are the only ones to make the list every year—apparently Japanese women love how normal Trey is), Fellow Honest has pickpocketed the hearts of every TWST fan, Malleus has overblotted his way back onto the list, and Azul & the Tweels have fallen from grace?!

(Keep scrolling if you'd like to read the official commentary accompanying each character.)

2023 TWST characters rankings:

#39 Fellow Honest #41 Ace Trappola #44 Trey Clover #50 Rollo Flamme #57 Leona Kingscholar #76 Idia Shroud #89 Malleus Draconia 2023 article link

Previous years for comparison:

2022: #49 Azul Ashengrotto #52 Trey Clover #69 Rollo Flamme #70 Jade Leech #71 Idia Shroud #74 Ruggie Bucchi #75 Floyd Leech #96 Jack Howl 2022 article link

2021: #12 Azul Ashengrotto #14 Trey Clover #15 Floyd Leech #25 Jade Leech #39 Ace Trappola #41 Leona Kingscholar #43 Jamil Viper #44 Idia Shroud #60 Ruggie Bucchi #76 Deuce Spade #92 Jack Howl 2021 article link

2020 (TWST's Launch Year): #8 Azul Ashengrotto #9 Leona Kingscholar #10 Floyd Leech #12 Jade Leech #17 Trey Clover #19 Jamil Viper #24 Malleus Draconia #35 Ace Trappola #38 Deuce Spade #42 Idia Shroud #71 Jack Howl #99 Riddle Rosehearts #100 Rook Hunt 2020 article link

Each character on the list is accompanied by some commentary from their voters. I do not speak Japanese and I'm using a translator, so please take this with a grain of salt.

Fellow Honest:

"In 2023, when I thought things were going to end peacefully, a cute and cuddly guy suddenly appeared. I want to make him happy." [Playful Land Spoilers] "He is the most popular character in TWST today. He played the role of a villain who opposed the protagonist's side in this year's Halloween event, and after successfully defeating the entire protagonist's side, he lost his temper with his shitty boss, made a truce with the protagonist's side, and happily destroyed his own workplace with the protagonists and disappeared. Thanks to this, many Tweets were posted praising him for 'doing what no one else could do.' We are waiting with baited breath for next year's implementation!" "Honest John is my favorite Disney character, and when he was materialized into TWST, he became handsome and sultry. When I found out he was voiced by Sugita, I already knew I liked him. I will feed you. (Erica's translation note: lol)"

Ace:

"He is a typical high school boy who is smart and intelligent but still immature. He can get too carried away and he can be slow, but he is a kind boy with a good eye for those around him and a good head on his shoulders. There is only room for growth. When talking about love, he may have fights with the person he loves, but he has the manliness to apologize." [His second quote is too complex for me to properly translate]

Trey:

"Is there a normal man like you?" "What a normal guy like you!!!!" "If there is a normal guy like you in the championship, I think he should be inducted into the Hall of Fame."

Rollo:

"'Can you hear the bell?' I can. The sound of wedding bells..." "Even though you're not an NRC student, you're the No. 1 king of sexual deviancy. You're a clean freak, you're a nervous person, and you decide exactly what you're having for lunch every day, but you know that if you don't make a decision, you'll be driven by desire. He's already the best when it comes to his voice actor, Hiroshi Kamiya, and last year's Glorious Masquerade showed a glimpse of how he can drive Yumijoshi girls crazy! This year, we went crazy for his SSR card and personal story! Rollo, you fell into a swamp that you can never get out of! I like the way he puts a handkerchief to his mouth and the way he taps his fingers when he crosses his arms in the Live2D portrait, his nervousness is brought to the forefront, and I like that. It's really interesting to see how nervous the NRC students are, or rather how Rolo's pace is disturbed. I never get tired of watching it. Both The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Judge Frollo, which are the original homages, are full of charm, so I want everyone who loves Rollo to see them!!"

Leona:

"You may not be the king of your country, but you are my king. I will make you happy, I will show you, just wait and see" (Erica's translation note: relatable af) [I have no idea what they're trying to say here so I can't translate it. Something about a swamp??] "The way he looks like an easy-going, self-satisfied guy and is all sulky, is honestly a swamp." (Erica's translation note: Swamp obviously means something to these Japanese women and I'm just not in on it. Comment if you know lol) "Contrary to his appearance, he is more of a gentleman than I imagined."

Idia:

"I'm seriously in love with him, I want him to be spoiled to the limit." "I've been shipping with him for four years now, and my love for him grows each year. He is endlessly loving, wise, and clumsy. He has a bad mouth and attitude, but the only time Mr. Idia gets angry is when someone he cares about does something that makes him sad. He tends to just complain and go through with his attacks on himself, so I will be angry with him instead. I love you! The big Yumejoshi news this year was that I got to meet Idia's parents. His mom is too cute..." "He showed me in front of everyone the kind of man he is when he wants to do something, and I felt both proud and wanting to have him all to myself forever. But, I also like his no-good side. ♡ Keep up the good work, handsome ♡"

Malleus:

"His age has been kept under wraps until now, but it was finally revealed that he is 178 years old. A dragon is said to be a chick at 200, a youngster at 500, and a full-fledged man at 1,000 (according to Lilia). In other words, at 178 years old, he is a baby (an exaggeration). He made a friend at school, and that friend is me, the prefect. I will love him forever, won't I? It seems he wants me to sleep sleep for the rest of my life, though. He said something like, 'If you give yourself over to sleep, a thousand years will pass in the blink of an eye,' but he is only 178 years old. He's cute." "I couldn't help but wonder if he was lonely after learning about his past." "A big wall has been built between Tsunotaro and I since chapter 7 started, but I'm okay with it. After everything is over, Malleus and I will eat ice cream together in Ramshackle dorm."

[judesmoonbeauty]

Fairytale Keeper's Final Assessment SE:

Jude Jazza's POV Chapter 1 ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

(The Crown forced a woman who just happened to witness an assassination into an unfair contract.)

(And that Bitch, her Majesty the Queen keeps ordering her to accompany us on missions.)

(And this woman herself, who is so stubborn that she will follow you no matter how many times she gets herself in trouble.)

(I too, tried to test her guts at some point.)

Everything about it is disgusting.

(So I'll end it right here and now.)

Victor: You will spend the day with her. Then sign here at the end of the day.

Victor: What happens if you don't agree?

Victor: At that point, we’ll say goodbye to Kate. Oh, and please keep all of this a secret from Kate.

(I wondered what the hell he was doing calling people out this early in the morning.)

(Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement. Ha….stupid.)

Why are you doing this now, don't force this kind of thing on people.

Even if I open my mouth I could be subjected to a number of criticisms though.

I thought to myself as I stared at this shitty consent form.

(Maybe this will put an end to our relationship with that woman.) 

Jude: I kind of know whatcha wanna do.

Jude: But the last condition is unacceptable.

Victor: You mean the part about keeping the existence of this consent form a secret from her?

Jude: I don't like sneaking around behind peoples backs without lettin’ ‘em know that they're involved.

Jude: Hey, Victor. I gave ya information and helped Crown once, right?

Jude: Ya haven't paid my information fee yet.

Victor: No way! I gave exactly what you asked for, because you're scary.

Jude: I'm still owed for the interest. But that's all right, we'll call it even.

Victor: Eh.

Jude: I’ll tell Kate everything. Then I’ll kick her out and that’ll be the end of it.

Victor: Hmm. I thought you'd say that since you're a hot-blooded person.

As I turn my back on Victor, who is grumbling, and start to walk away, a voice comes flying in.

Victor: Jude! Spend a day with Kate and assess her. You must comply with this.

(Ridiculous…..）

I headed to the common room and found Isla and Ellis frolicking in front of the arsenal of weapons that that freak was collecting.

Kate: Ellis, this pistol is shaped so that bullets can’t be inserted into it.

Ellis: It's not a real gun, it's a replica.

Ellis: It used by replacing this gun with the opponent's gun or pretending it is a real gun.

Kate: I see.….It looks like it can be used in many ways!

(What are you talking about?)

Kate: Oh, Jude!

Ellis: Oh, Jude. Welcome home.

Ellis: You were called by Her Majesty and Victor. What were you talking about?

As I tossed down the fairy tale keeper continuation agreement, Kate's eyes followed the text, and then her eyes widened.

Jude: To spend the day with and assess ya.

Kate: You’re the one to sign this consent form, Jude?

Kate: So, as long as you sign the consent form, I can continue, right Jude?

Jude: If ya look at the text, you’ll understand.

Ellis: Why Jude? I guess because he’s the most difficult.

Jude: I don't know. If ya have any complaints, tell that Queen's freak aide.

Kate: Do you want to continue as a Fairytale Keeper? Or quit here and leave Crown?

Ellis: What do you want, Kate?

Kate looks up and says in a clear voice.

Kate: I want to continue being a fairy tale keeper.

Kate: I think there is still a lot I can do with Crown.

(An immediate answer).

When she finished speaking, Kate turned her annoying eyes on me.

Kate: Jude, please sign the agreement for me to continue as a Fairytale Keeper!

Jude: If they had asked for my permission and I had said yes, then I wouldn’t have confronted ya in the first place.

Jude: I'm against your continuing as Fairytale Keeper, and I'm against your staying here.

Kate: I thought you’d say that Jude…..

Kate: But I'll never give up. I'll keep fighting until the end, until I get your signature.

Jude: Really? Do as ya please.

Jude: You’re leaving today anyway. Your playing with gifts of the underworld.***

Ellis: If you're happy to continue as a fairytale keeper, I'll help you.

Kate: Thank you, Ellis!

(Shit…..everyone is siding with Kate.)

Ellis: What would make you want to sign it Jude?

Jude: Think for yourself.

Kate: I think it's important that I'm not a distraction to you and that I'm useful to you Jude.

Ellis: Ah, then.

She took us out into the garden and suggested that we have a sparring match.

I guess she wants to prove that she won't be a hindrance even if she accompanies us on a mission, and that she can fight satisfactorily.

(Pointless…..)

I have no reason or time to look at something like this.

But going out with them is just a way to buy time until the end of this useless day called today.

Ellis: Isla, I’ll be your partner.

Kate: Yes, please don’t hesitate.

Kate: Jude, please watch properly.

Kate and Ellis begin to spar, as expected, it looked like a fixed match, like a cat playing with something.

Jude: What are ya showing me? Ellis, if you're going to go easy on her, don't.

Ellis: But…

Kate: It’s my fault for asking Ellis, who is so kind to me.

Kate: Jude, would you spar against me?

Jude: What, I'm just gonna letcha die, and that'll be the end of it?

Kate: Yep. 

Jude: Hmmm, let's do it then.

Facing Kate, we made eye contact.

Kate randomly threw some punches and tried to land some light kicks, but I dodged them.

Kate: I thought you’d come in with a kicking technique, Jude.

Jude: Eh, is that what you’re watching? But your back is open. 

I go behind Kate and tighten my arms around her. 

Kate: Ah…..***

Instantly, Kate bent down and slipped out of my arms.

(You did it…..)

(But you’re getting too carried away.)

I grabbed Kate’s arm and swept her legs, pinning her to the ground.

Kate: Ah…..***

I glared at Kate at a distance where the tips of our noses touched.

(Ha…….Really, not good.)

(Her eyes.)

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***I'm 99.9% sure this second sentence is incorrect. I have no idea what he meant by this, and I spent forever researching this line. But I assume he meant since she's leaving, so is her playtime with the gifts from the underworld AKA the Crown members. It doesn't have a huge bearing on the story, so take it with a grain of salt.

***When they are sparring, Kate uses 'tsu' つ, (not to be confused with the little っ 'tsu', which is silent.). I changed to this to 'Ah', since I wasn't sure how to translate the noise she was making as Jude was grabbing her both times, and it would look weird with 'tsu' written.