#i love this ask. mentally printing it out and eating it

[bugsinthebayou]

hey bossman big fan of yours, massive respect for you. One of my favorite tumblr blogs, to be honest. Heard you were posting about voltron and i just gotta be honest with ya man, no offense, no offense I swear, but my sincerest condolences. Prayers for ya man. Get well soon. Respect ya bossman o7o7

LMAO dont worry its not permanent. for today and today only

[kaciidubs]

Catnip and Kidnappings

Hi, 🧿 nonnie! This one's been a long time coming, and though it doesn't have much smut, I hope you still enjoy it! ❣ Summary: You just needed to go to the pet store for two things - so why were you suddenly in a car with a man you didn't know? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.5k+ ❣ Warnings: Mafia! AU, fluff, meet cute, implied danger, slight humor, cat talk, reader is a bit sassy but so is Minho ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Two things. You just needed two things from the pet store, then you would be back home with your lovely tabby cat and show you’d been putting off for the better half of two weeks because it just ‘wasn’t the right time’.

So how, you ask, did you manage to find yourself hurriedly escorted away from the storefront of the pet store by a man you’d just met?

Well, you could target the beginning of the end the moment you stepped foot into the pet store, making your way to the cat aisle on instinct with your goal clear in your mind; catnip and premium cat food.

Premium cat food - you wished you could trick your furry child into eating a cheaper form of food, but his picky eater tendencies had set him in his ways ever since your mother decided to spoil him and introduce him to the world of Sheba pate and cuts of various meat and fish flavors; the same woman who claimed she didn’t like cats, yet bought him almost all of his toys.

Huffing out a quiet laugh at her change of heart, you bent to grab a box of the food packs, silently thanking the corporate gods that it was still on sale, before heading deeper into the aisle to grab the second item on your mental list.

You scanned the rack with the box still in your arms, adjusting it slightly every now and then until your eyes landed on the empty spot that usually had the brand of catnip you needed.

“Wonderful…”

“If you’re looking for catnip like that brand, you could go with the one with the red label - they look different because of the companies, but they’re really the same ingredient wise.”

“Oh, really? Thank-” The next word immediately died on your tongue as you turned your head, ready to thank a store worker but, instead, you were met with possibly the handsomest man you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Sharp eyes and a nose that looked like it belonged on a marble sculpture, paired with lips set in a faint frown and the prettiest jawline you’ve ever seen - he was gorgeous.

He seemed to either not notice your brain freeze or blissfully ignore it as he stepped closer to pick up the container before placing it on top of the cat food box in your arms.

“I have three cats and they all like both brands, there isn’t really a difference besides the fact that you don’t have to use as much of this one as the other one, which makes it better considering the price.”

Once his eyes finally met yours, you felt your brain kick back into gear, “O-Oh, okay, thank you so much!”

He hummed out a small sound of acknowledgement, giving you a curt nod and reaching forward to grab a container of his own; his eyes scanning across the small printed words for a moment before he looked to you once more. “Do you need help? Carrying that, I mean.”

“This? No, no, I’ve got it handled.” You adjusted the box once more, the catnip container sliding to the right until you balanced it out quickly, “All good, thanks again, though.”

Before you could embarrass yourself more than you already had, you thanked him once more and shuffled past him and out of the small aisle in record time, mentally cursing whatever line of fate led you down this path.

Placing your items on the conveyor belt, the cashier greeted you as they scanned your items and you typed in your rewards card onto the card reader’s keypad.

“Are you getting this, too?”

“What?” Looking up, you stared at the catnip in their hand with confusion creasing your brow.

“Um-”

“Yes, we are.”

The familiar voice made a chill run down your spine, your head whipping to see the same man from before, the faintest of curves to his otherwise neutral expression alleviating his otherwise stoic demeanor.

Shrugging lightly, the cashier proceeded to scan the second container before announcing the total.

Pressing his black card to the one-tap reader, he seamlessly slid it back into his wallet before stuffing it back into his pocket, “Think of it as a little gift for your cat, they deserve to be treated.”

For being stunned for the second time that day, your recovery was just as fast, “I’ll make sure to let him know a kind stranger cares about his picky habits.”

He huffed out a quiet chuckle, but that was more than enough to inflate your ego and make your heart flutter, quickly taking back your previous curse to thank fate instead.

After grabbing your bag of items, you made your way out of the store with your new companion following suit.

“So… Was that really just a gift for my cat? You don’t have any ulterior motives, do you?” You mused, turning to look at him fully as you stood outside of the storefront.

Shaking his head, he raised his hands in defense, “It’s just a gift - like I said, I have three cats so I know how it can get, better than most. Besides, the picky eater phase is really rough on the pockets at the worst of times.”

“Well, Miso appreciates your generosity.”

“Miso… cute.” He hummed softly, though his true excitement was evident in the small glimmer in his eyes.

“Do I have the honor of knowing your name?” Clocking the possible unintended implication of the question, you quickly backtracked, “Um- Just so Miso knows who he can thank while eating his pate salmon, of course.”

His lips parted to speak but closed twice as fast, his once relaxed smile turning into a firm line as he looked at you - almost enough to look through you, or rather, past you.

As you went to turn your head to gauge for yourself, you were stopped by the warmth of his hand around your wrist, winning your attention for himself like jingling keys in front of a baby.

“Let me bring you home, and I’ll tell you on the way.”

You felt your heart flutter, though you couldn’t ignore the unease creeping up your spine, “I appreciate it, but you really don’t have to-”

“I just want to make sure you make it home safely.” His mouth pressed into a tight lipped smile and his grip tightened ever so slightly, “Trust me.”

Maybe it was the fact that he sounded so sincere, aligning with the image of the kind man you’d seen in the pet shop, or perhaps it was the way his firm gaze flickered with a hint of urgency, but you found yourself nodding softly.

“Okay.”

With that, you were tugged down the sidewalk and around the corner, hurried footsteps falling alongside his long strides in hopes of keeping up.

“Is- Is there something wrong? What’s happening?”

“Everything’s fine.”

You bristled at his nonchalant, clipped tone, falling back on your pace by half a step. “I have a feeling you weren’t lying to me before, so, please, don’t start lying to me now.”

Feeling your resistance, he took a short breath and spoke, “Nothing’s wrong yet, and nothing is happening - I’d rather keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”

“But what did you see?”

“Someone who has no business trying to approach me in public unless they’re looking to start something they have no chance of finishing. I have no desire in getting innocent people caught up in those types of affairs.”

“Those types?” Your eyes widened as you neared a black car - slim, sleek, and a model that you had no chance of owning for yourself on your current pay grade. “Are you-”

“I’m no one.” He shut you down with ease before reaching forward to open the passenger’s side door, “Get in.”

Putting a temporary pin in your conversation, you quickly slid into the car, the faint scent of jasmine mixing with the musk of sandalwood and leather seats filling your nose; watching through the windshield as the black haired man rounded the car before sliding into the driver's seat.

“I don’t think a nobody just casually owns a car like this,” clicking your seatbelt into place and setting your bag on the floor, you shot him a wary glance, “if you’re going to kidnap me, Miso’s going to be royally pissed.”

The car’s engine roared to life, masking his light chuckle but doing next to nothing in hiding the slight uptick of his lips. “I’m not a kidnapper, though I’ll make an exception if Miso’s as cute as you make him out to be.”

With that, he shifted the gear and drove out of the parking lot, using the one-way street to get away from the pet store and the unknown assailant. Buildings and cars passed by in a blur after you told him your address, your hands nonchalantly turning your phone while the silence was placated with the sound of the engine and the radio - though, you had no hope of hearing what the song was from how low the volume was.

Taking a deep breath, you turned toward him, eyes tracing over his unfairly handsome side profile. “So… Is this the part where you tell me who you are?”

“I told you, I’m no one,” he hummed simply, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“And I told you I don’t like liars - you still owe me your name, you remember that, right? Now, since you’re saving me from some unknown evil, you owe me a full introduction.”

He glanced over at you, amused astonishment filling his face, “For someone who’s in the hands of a complete stranger, you make a lot of demands.”

“Think of it as your atonement for giving me two new life experiences in one when I was minding my own business buying catnip.”

You could just barely catch him rolling his eyes, muttering under his breath and hearing the words ‘worse’ and ‘friends’.

“Minho.”

“Minho?”

Minho rocked his head to the side, huffing, “My name is Lee Minho, I have three cats - Soonie, Doongie, and Dori - and I’m a businessman. I like going to that pet store because they donate some of their profit to shelters, and I know about the catnip brands because I have three cats - changing brands is a nightmare whether it’s one cat or several.”

A small smile found its way to your lips at the new information, your mind running wild at the image of this enigma of a man playing with three cats of his own. “Okay… But, when you say businessman, what type of business do you do?”

“The type that prefers to go unmentioned to civilians for their safety.”

“What- Like working for some secret branch of the government? Are you a cult leader? A member of the mafia?” An incredulous giggle bubbled past your lips, though when his demeanor grew colder, your stomach dropped. “You’re… You’re not, right?”

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, granting him the grace to look at you, brown eyes locking to yours with a firm stare. “You never told me your name. If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my job - it’s your repentance for asking me more questions past my introduction. If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t, but I won’t tell you my job.”

Your name for his profession, your safety in exchange for his safety - it was only fair, truly.

Taking a deep breath, your name fell from your lips with a small air of confidence, “You already know about my cat, and my job pays just enough to support his picky eating habits. I like that pet store because they hosted an adoption event that brought Miso into my life, and I’ve been supporting them ever since.”

He made a sound of confirmation before turning his attention back to the road, pressing the gas as the light turned green and continued the journey to your apartment.

His choice of silence was almost enough to have your conscience second guessing your decision, until you noted the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel; twitching, anxious, compared to the streamlined, firm grip he’d showcased at the beginning of the drive.

Eventually your apartment building came into view, the car slowing to a stop once he reached the front door.

“Well…” Lingering for a moment longer, you looked at him in hopes of seeing him turn to you one final time to honor his end of the agreement, but when he remained staring at the road ahead, you let it go. “I guess this is goodbye - thank you for what you’ve done for me, Lee Minho, I appreciate it.”

As you went to unbuckle your seatbelt, his hand wrapped around your wrist, his touch sending a chill down your spine and stealing your attention just like he did outside of the pet shop.

“I’m part of the mafia,” Minho spoke plainly, his tone emotionless, statement oriented, “the person I saw earlier was someone we’ve done business with before, some low life’s henchman most likely sent to get even, that’s why I wanted to get away like I did. I didn’t want our chance encounter to end with you getting hurt - you did nothing wrong, and I wanted to make sure you would be safe.”

The mafia… You weren’t sure if him being a cult leader would’ve been better or worse than this, but staring into his eyes, you could feel it wasn’t a joke, nor an elaborate cover up.

“What I said before, about not mentioning what I do for the safety of others… I swear to you that you’ll be safe after this - I’ll make it my personal job of making sure nothing happens to you because of this, okay? No lingering ties or deals to be made, you’ll be under our watch until we take care of that stunt they tried to pull.”

His promise eased the first stretch of fear growing within you, though the rest would have to be handled once you had the proper time to process your less than normal morning.

Nodding, you slipped your wrist from his grasp and grabbed your bag, turning to get out of the car until you froze.

“If you’re worried, you don’t have to-”

You leaned across the center console and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a sign of gratitude, “Thank you, Minho.”

Reaching into your bag, you placed his container of catnip in his hand then quickly left the car - making your way up the flight of stairs to the lobby’s doors,only to turn around to see him patiently waiting for your entrance before slipping your way past the glass doors.

On the elevator ride up to your apartment, you couldn’t help it as your thoughts ran through the events like a film reel, though you weren’t sure if it was to get over the shock of reality, or to commit the image of that man to your memory.

Lee Minho, cat owner and catnip expert.

Lee Minho, morally gray mafia member.

Lee Minho, a man you hoped you would see in the pet store again.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: Tagged lovelies will now be done within the comments of the post due to Tumblr's tagging system being broken, thank you for understanding.

@luminouskalopsia, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @sometimesleeknows, @hyunjinloverrrr, @rhonnie23, @channieswife, @beautyinhypnosis

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[hollowtakami]

Hii! I followed you from an old account that for some reason didn't let me make requests, but now I went back to my hawks era and with it came my obsession with his fics.

Aniwaaays, me and reverse comfort are one, so I was wondering if you could show how reader (s/o) comforts Hawks after suddenly reuniting with his father or just see a photo of him. like, idk brings back a lot of bad memories for him and I would like to see some of it if it's not too much trouble <3

I love You btw, and sorry if i bother u with this

content: mentions/implications of child abuse/trauma, reverse comfort, keigo has c-ptsd, him and reader are both trying their best

a/n: hiya anon! it’s no problem at all, i will always enjoy answering asks and writing for my darling kei<3 and thank you sm, that really makes me smile to know that people genuinely enjoy my work! ^^

Keigo saw so much flash before him every time he blinked.

He remembered the way his teeth would grit when he squawked, spat; the way his hands looked before they came down crashing, a tsunami of scarred skin that would scar him just the same.

Be it physically, or mentally.

Keigo found himself paralysed by the picture, printed in black and white. It might as well have been blood soaked into the newspaper, crumbling in the hero’s faltering grip.

For a moment, the avian wasn’t sat at the table with a breakfast, made with love, laid out like a declaration. But for a second, he was a beaten fledgling who’d been plucked of his autonomy.

Keigo blinked. He was holding a newspaper, he was not there.

The poor baby bird on the floor had dared to get up, the one wing that still flapped crushed under the boot of his father.

He was eating breakfast, the sun was on his skin.

Keigo was not there, physically.

You were surfing some butter around a pan, ready to make some scrambled eggs for you and your boyfriend. Letting the butter melt for a moment, you smiled.

Turning around, you beamed, “I’m using butter for the eggs this time, not oil, just like Fuyumi told me!”

Mentally, Keigo was there.

Noticing the way your partner looked as though he had been turned to stone, your heart grew cold. You switched off the gas hob, almost gliding through the kitchen to the dining table where Keigo sat, paralysed.

“Baby?” You whispered, your words falling on death ears.

The newspaper shook in the avian’s hand, your eyes flicking to the front page. There he was, Keigo’s father; Takami The Thief.

When he was drowning under the surface of his anxiety, you knew better than to startle him. You pulled out a chair and sat beside him. Your hand gently covered his like unexpected snow. You felt how cold his skin was, be it from the morning breeze or the fear laced in his blood.

“You’re home, birdie,” you said, clearly. “He’s not here, he never will be.”

Your words were firm, and for a moment you swore you felt Keigo’s fingers twitch under the blanket of your hand.

“I- I feel like, like I can’t breathe,” was all Keigo could say.

You inched closer to Keigo, wrapping your arms around him. Careful not to touch his plumage, as to not trigger him further, you squeezed him in your embrace.

“Smell the flowers, spread the pollen,” you gently instructed, “just like the therapist taught you, yeah?”

Keigo inhaled sharply through his nose, a shaky breath leaving his open mouth soon after.

The two of you repeated these steps together, completely forgetting about your cold breakfast waiting for you on the stove.

“I promise you, Keigo,” you lifted up his bangs, kissing his forehead. “I’m not gonna let him get to you.”

[eternalsa2z]

Costumes Games

So my doll Zoey was progressing well on her path to being the perfect little bimbo. But there were some bumps in the process...and not the nice silicone kind that we wanted. She was a bit resistant to some of the more extreme changes. Questioning why we need to try this, upgrade that, dress this way. Overthinking was getting in the way of her happiness.

Luckily I discovered that she loved games and dressing up in costumes. I decided to put together a little training exercise where I would text her a simple phrase and she would have 30 minutes to dress up in a matching outfit and send me the results. At first I started simple. But eventually the costumes would push her deeper into her desired mind and body.

"Dressed To Kill"

The first attempt had mixed results. She took the message literally, going for a slasher look with a full mask. Obviously that was not ideal, but I was pleased to note the way she stuck out her ass in the short leotard. I simply told her that the real 'horror' part of the look was that she covered up her breasts and pretty face. I could tell she was blushing under the mask...hopefully the hint would sink in later.

"Bunny"

The second phrase had the desired affect. She could've gone with a Lola Bunny cosplay or a more modest bunny costume. But I was pleased to see she went for the full-blown sexy playboy bunny outfit. Sure she was a little shy, especially when I told her I loved her looking like 'my little fuck bunny'. But the way her tail quivered told me she was enjoying it.

"Schoolgirl"

She was faster to send a photo this time. Probably because the choice was a simple and short as the uniform she dressed up in. Zoey's pouty face and eye-rolling expression seemed to indicate she disapproved of the request I made. But I didn't tell her to put on those sexy fishnets. Or pull her short skirt up so much her white panties were visible. I didn't even ask her to show off her new fake tits she agreed to get after telling her it'd enhance her costumes. She chose that. It was a sign the training was working...but this schoolgirl still had more to learn.

"Dressed To Kill"

As a test I texted her an old phrase out of the blue, telling her she had 15 minutes before I would be home to take her out to eat. I wanted to test her progress and set the expectation that she should be ready to dress up anytime, anywhere. She spent two minutes complaining but eventually sent me this pic right as I was pulling into the driveway.

It was such an improvement. She looked sleeker and sexier than last time. Her recently enhanced ass still sticking out and her tits definitely not covered by the top of that tight dress. Sure she was covering her face again, probably because she was worried that this outfit wasn't technically a costume. But I kissed her and once I told her she was dressed as 'a trophy wife' then she happily put herself on full display at the restaurant.

"Pet"

Eventually the costumes requests came quicker, with a shorter deadline, and with more vague prompts. I wanted Zoey to not even think. To instinctively react and pick something sexy. It turned out purrrrectly with her latest choice. It took her five minutes to throw on this leopard print leotard complete with cute cat ears. When I asked my doll why she went with that look, she just stared at me blankly like the answer was obvious. "Because I'm your little sex kitten..."

"Pumpkin"

The last thing to work on was the mental side of things. I tried to dumb down my doll by disorienting her with odd costume requests. Since there's nothing sexy about a big round orange gourd, I was hoping she'd impulsively pick something 'cute as a pumpkin' or to highlight her big, fake, silicone-enhanced pumpkins. But this time it was my doll who surprised me.

It took her minutes to get into this getup. She looked a little befuddled, like she wasn't even sure what she was, but whatever she chose she looked great. I though her sexy little cowgirl / farmer outfit with pumpkins in the background was a great idea. She said it was because she wanted to ride me cowgirl style in the costume allllll night. That made it an even better costume idea!

"Birthday suit"

Finally it was clear that the games had worked. Zoey was a blank, busty, instinctive bimbo doll who could pick out an outfit faster than she could compute that 2 + 2 = 5. To celebrate, I wanted to get her naked. But I should have expected my silly little ditz to not quite understand the assignment.

"Ummm...like...I wasn't sure why you wanted me to wear a suit?" she responded, looking confused and thus very cute. "So I just baked you a pretty birthday cake in my sexy robe! Would you like to rub the frosting over my titties and lick it off later tonight?"

Like Zoey, I didn't even have to think. I told her of course...and that she didn't need to include the robe. It was the one outfit I didn't need her to put on this time. Because she had finally become the perfect bimbo doll we both always wanted her to be.

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 27 - In Magazines and On TV | ‘Ours’

word count - 9.2 k

When you heard the doorbell of the house ring throughout the rooms echoing, your heart almost dropped. It was the day of your interview for British GQ. Trent had gone to training already in the morning and you had been sitting impatiently in your kitchen waiting for Bentley Brown to arrive for what felt like hours at this point since. 

“Hi, I’m so happy to have you. Come in, come in. Erm… it’s just Teddy and I here at the moment. Trent should be home a little later on. I apologize if she’s in the way, we’re not keen on babysitting currently but anyhow, can I get you anything? I put out a spread but anything really, I can get.” You babbled nervously letting Mr. Brown and a small team of people in through the foyer of your house. You had set up all sorts of drinks and light bites in your dining room for him and his team but you were just worried, no amount of preparation or niceties would calm you.  

“Y/N, we’re perfectly fine. Thank you for having us. I’m really looking forward to speaking. We’ll just have a conversation, keep it relaxed. Not to worry.” He smiled sensing your nerves, following you into your living room that you had meticulously cleaned and arranged to be set for the interview down to correctly aligning the large books just the right way on your coffee table.  

“We can sit in the living room. If that’s alright.” You sat down on the boucle couch in your living room pulling your legs up onto the couch bathed in sunlight. You sat there fidgeting, worried how the words coming out of your mouth would look in print. Suddenly the dark washed denim jeans you were in felt incredibly constricting. He came with a personal assistant and a camera as well as a sound guy to record the conversation. Tyler said he would stop by at some point to make sure everything was fine. He had already really managed the entire operation for you. You didn’t need a ‘manager’ day to day but this was a big opportunity so he was just taking care of you as his sister and organizing this interview. It was massive this was happening so you prayed it went well.  

You sat in the office of your home at a big desk in the dark illuminated by the your mac’s screen as you read the edit of Mr. Brown’s piece that would be going to print soon weeks later. You read line by line and tried your best to view it as a third party and not be critical of how you sounded in it. 

- article snippet -

'When I first met Y/N. I immediately thought what a beautiful woman. It was no surprise she was entangled in a relationship with a professional footballer. It took me by surprise though when Trent Alexander-Arnold introduced her as his fiancé, now his wife after a wedding in New York this summer. She was kind, polite, had an infectious laugh, and really seemed to have a way about her that left you wanting more. More of what you ask? That’s exactly what I wanted to know. What made the person standing next to a highly regarded athlete more interesting and drawing. That’s not to say he is not but she was a mysteriously demure yet electric and people noticed.  When she walked in, every man’s head turned. Isay this with great mind to the people they are but externally the pair turns heads. They are beautiful and beautifully matched with the other drowning in the luxuries of their lifestyle in a way that has you paying attention. There’s minimal logo mania or flashy pieces that are trending. It’s all curated and quiet, as are they. Timelessly woven and carefully chosen. I arrived at the newlywed Alexander Arnold home in the greater Manchester area. A large estate tucked far back on a property in a private neighborhood. The Liverpool fullback insisted that he ‘Just wanted a place with good bones’ but this place is much more than that. I had asked Y/N where she might feel most comfortable to speak with me and she was quick to tell me none of this was comfortable for her but she’d love to have me come to their home. That was her safe space.

Y/N sat on a boucle couch in their modern minimalist living room across from me. It felt like an ad. No, the photoshoot wasn’t today, this was simply her. When I had the chance to speak to Trent alone he shook his head in disbelief telling me that his wife ‘hasn’t got a clue the effect she has on people.’ I initially had a hard time believing him but became aware of her naivety quickly watching her adjust her posture that didn’t need so, her perfectly manicured hands pull at her glossed lip, even the way she spoke had you slightly transfixed and it was the innocent yet sincere nature of it all that had you hooked. She pulled her legs up onto the couch. In dark denim, barefeet, and a tank top. Her slender frame model-esque, the jewelry dripping off her clinking every time she moved exposing her very monetarily comfortable life. Although maybe not all that comfortable. 

‘When he’s away it’s difficult. I am, we are, so lucky to have the support we do from family, friends, and the club. There are mornings or days when he’s in another time zone and I feel like a single mum momentarily but I hardly experience what they might. It’s definitely a bit of a reality check when you feel frustrated and you turn on the Telly and there he is. You know when the final whistle blows he’s returning to you. We FaceTime as much as we can. It’s hard on him as well to miss so much time away from her.” Referring to their daughter. “We travel to games if it makes sense or aligns with schedules. When she starts going to school obviously that will change but probably be a bigger adjustment for me but we deffinetly spend a lot of time on planes and at stadiums.”

“What’s that like? Does it ever feel groupie-esque?”

“I suppose. It can be hard to take a step back from it all when you’re so immersed in it. I try to view it like any other job or career anyone’s partner might have.”

“But it’s far from that and I’d go as far to say maybe even slightly more rewarding.”

“True. I mean I didn't mean to say it to diminish how accomplished he is. I couldn’t be more proud of him. More in awe of what he does. He deserves what he receives. I was unaware of the hierarchy within the sport though. The separation of treatment of players and clubs so it’s all relative what is seen as a reward. I feel like he and our family is the reward as cheesy as that sounds. I think the fans, the media, the frenzies that ensue is when I feel most groupie-esque like you said. There’s definitely plenty of times where I get stopped at a door, asked who I am, all sorts of things because as much as we share a life together it is very much his world. As it should be.” 

“You believe that it’s his world. Not a shared experience?” 

“Oh it’s definitely a shared experience but from completely different perspectives. I’m not in the dressing rooms, I’m not on the pitch, I’m not at training. I didn’t put in the sacrifice he did and still does. I’ve always said, I think I mentioned this to you when you first broached this interview, I haven’t really done anything to merit the same adoration or affection and unfortunately the criticism he receives. I make sacrifices like we all do in relationships. I didn’t love the idea of a summer wedding but when he’s in season he’s in season and that’s the way it is.” 

“Her coquettish laugh echoed through their home and I hated to break that sound and her light demeanor but I wanted to know the answer to a hard question. 'Does that ever feel disheartening to feel that way? That football has to take a priority in his life.” 

“Erm… The thing is football is a priority because it’s our entire life, everything revolves around it but I certainly don’t resent that. That said, I’m human, of course, I have my days. I am really fortunate to live the life I do but just the same way I wonder about his experiences as he does for mine. He never has been an adult unknown.”

“An adult unknown… sounds like a book title. Are you saying that in a critical way?”

“Maybe I’d use that as a title if I wrote one. I identify with it a lot.'" The sound of her laugh returned. "Growing up in Manhattan you experience this unbelievable juxtaposition going from completely anonymous on the street to receiving invitations to galas.”

“Not everyone is receiving invitations. In part a reason I am curious about her and I’m not the only one. When you google Y/N Alexander-Arnold plenty of articles emerge about her and her husband. Mostly surrounding his matches, paparazzi photos, notably the ones that shed light on their relationship years ago in a Manchester club or on a yacht in Greece with the Bellinghams, occasionally a touch point on something they have chosen to share with the public but if you dig a little deeper a click or two further appears a very interesting read. The Y/L/N family rooted in the New York City socialite scene, a dynastic surname, academic accolades at her university, her mother a philanthropist, a career in fashion, her name mentioned in articles, Getty images of her at parties, and peculiarly she never mentions any of it at all.” 

“But no, not in a critical way at all. He just entered into the spotlight before he even turned 18. An introspective lens or spotlight focused on him. I wouldn’t say I got away with things but I probably did comparatively. He couldn’t have done the things I did growing up without scrutiny.' I smiled at her because her humility is both charming and glaring a lie. Y/N was far from what one might consider ‘out of the spotlight.’”

“Now you say growing up… You’re American as you said, manhattan born. Have you adapted or adjusted to life in the UK?” 

“I’d like to think so but there is always an odd day where I say ‘band aid’ instead of ‘plaster’ and my daughter or Trent will give me stick. Although, it wasn’t entirely foreign to me but also moving to another country comes with a lot more than an adaptation to accents and vocabulary. I’m fine, I think I am at least."    

Another thing that stuck out to me in my search engine deep dive about the new Mrs. Alexander-Arnold had been her English background but I wondered more about her present than her past. Trent arrived home in the middle of our interview. Watching their exchange felt like you were in a film. Their daughter Teddy 's bare feet pitter pattering to the front door eager to greet her dad. Trent quietly snuck into the room first greeting his wife. They were magnetic. None of it a show. Nothing contrived.  His hand held her face in a way that made you question what love really was all before he pressed a kiss to her lips. He held their young daughter in his arms and she wrapped herself around him. He adjusted his hold of her before shaking my hand apologizing for interrupting. This is what I was so eager to understand. The man of the house turned to his wife and whispered in her ear asking if she was okay. I was interested in the protective nature but I understood it from the viewpoint that he was no longer a footballer, he was a father and husband. She squeezed his arm with a kiss to his cheek. Teddy adamant about receiving one as well. Y/N returned her focus back to me with an apology. 

I managed to finagle a way of getting Trent to sit with us. Teddy was now comfortably asleep in her mum’s arms. They were picturesque. I sound redundant but it pings in your brain every time you blink. 

“I really didn’t want to sit for this if I am being honest, I want this to be for her. Not in believing I could take focus off her, I mean.’ He gestured to his wife still in awe 5 years in. ‘But I get to see her everyday. I understand how incredible she is and I think more people should know.”’

Trent said that and I wondered why the secrets then. Why the push for privacy. 

“I think firstly it’s a safety thing. It’s a terrible reality but we have to be conscious of it especially with Ted." Ted's nickname that they’ve fallen into the habit of 

“I definitely didn’t understand. I was offended at first. I’m not one for attention.’ The irony as she says that because she’s had everyone captivated unintentionally. I don’t know if you remember.’ She looked at Trent” 

“I deffo remember. You weren’t thrilled and I looked horrible."

‘You didn't, I just didn’t understand. I remember leaving Anfield for the first time and camera flashes flooded the car. It was so jarring. People talking about you, sharing your image in such a strange experience."

- end of article snippet -

You closed your laptop and sighed, that was enough reading. The article was set to be published in an issue come December and you prayed that what you just read and the rest would be perceived well. You did a photoshoot for the piece at your house as well later that past week. You laid on the same couch you’d done the interview on. Trent was lying beneath you shirtless in a pair of trousers. You dragged your lips up his abs teasingly. The photographer asked you to do it again, apparently it made a good photo, you seemingly tickled Trent causing him to laugh. You giggled with a smile keeping your lips on his skin as the shutters flashed in the big room with his hands on you. Another set of photos were taken in the kitchen with you wearing a pink shimmering sequined column gown with a center floral appliqué along its halter neckline. The luxurious dress was juxtaposed by the causal feeling of being in your kitchen pretending to be cooking in it. Trent held you in his arms dressed in a suit having a taste of a little something off your finger. It was sweet and cheeky and a funny play on what your home life actually looked like. In one other setting, the magazine had Trent run on the turf in your back garden with you dressed in a cotton Mui Mui blue set thrown over his shoulder with Teddy chasing after you two giggling away. The last shot of the piece was you alone upstairs in the en suite of your bedroom. You stood in your mirror leaned forward onto the vanity applying a lip gloss in a pair of jeans unbuttoned in a Sandy Liang bra top. All in all you were happy with how they turned out and still a little amazed that they were going to be published in British GQ for everyone to see. You idolized fashion magazines growing up so the fact that you were going to be in one was bizarre. You’d been mentioned in the Mail or the Sun time and time again with Trent since you began dating but this would be tangible in your hands, this was an article with quotes from your mouth.

In the following days, marking the middle of November, Winnie had flown over which was lovely. She was on her way to Germany to see Jadon. It wasn’t the most sensible way to get there but she wanted to see your little fam so she stopped over in England first. George popped over to your house as well after Trent had come home from training. You were currently cooking dinner for the four of you and a slightly modified version of it for Teddy. 

“What are we having for dinner, baby?” Trent asked, coming into the kitchen, Teddy trailing behind him in giggles holding onto his joggers. You loved cooking dinner at home. A lot of times you had Trent’s personal chef come over to cook for him because he needed personal dietary needs but when he could just eat as normal without a match the following day you loved to make family dinners. 

“Trent, you're an adult cook for yourself.” Winnie snapped, teasingly. She was just giving him a hard time, of course. That was the banter that was bound to ensue once they were in the same room. They loved the odd jab. As girly as Winnie was, they treated each other like they were brothers. It felt like you were healing a lot of things you never got to handle during your childhood from the family you had created. You and Trent were really close with each other's siblings and friends, so having things like dinners in your warm cozy home just healed a piece of yourself. You and Winnie didn’t get to have a lot of them growing up. Dinner rarely included your dad, he was traveling, your mum, usually moderating portion sizes and it was fairly often that either you or Winnie was missing from the table, busy out and about. 

“Oh fuck off, Win!” Trent quipped with a laugh cupping his hands over Teddy’s ears. She giggled not fully grasping that it wasn’t a game he was playing but that he didn’t want her to hear his curse words. You guys were very ‘pick and choose’ when it came to cursing in front of Teddy, it was a case by case scenario. Some days it was the end of the world if she caught one, other days you didn’t even bat your eyes.

“Teddy, do you like daddy’s food? Like when I cook?” Trent uncovered her ears and crouched down in front of her. You turned away from the stove and Winnie spun on her chair to listen to her answer with smug smiles. Trent didn’t cook all that often. It was either his chef or you making him food, it used to be Dianne but he could make toast or eggs, a pasta or something for Teddy when he needed to. 

“What food, dada?” Teddy asked him in return with her cute pout agape. Her brow furrowed. You think she was trying to clarify which dish he was referring to but the response was hilarious. Winnie was quick to laugh, you attempted to bite your lip.

“Ted, don't do me like that.” Trent laughed, palming his face as he shook his head in front of her. He pulled her into his embrace and stood up, picking her up in his arms. 

“Fine, whose music do you like better though?” He asked her with a coy smile brushing his thumb over her cheek. He flicked his eyes to George as if to say ‘see, I’ll win this one.’ Trent definitely fell into a more lenient parenting style than you. If Teddy wanted to listen to pop or rap as opposed to some children's bop he’d happily obliged especially if there were his friends or teammates in the car. 

“No, no, no! That’s not fair, T. You let her listen to things she shouldn’t be.” You yelped out pausing her answer. Trent whipped his head back to Teddy after he turned to look at you kissing his teeth at your interruption. 

“You told?!? You ratted on me to mummy?” Trent laughed pretending to be shocked. He gave her a faux surprised face or maybe not all that fake. He didn’t know Teddy had told you but he had assumed you’d probably know just through just a mum’s intuition. 

“Nos.” Teddy giggled. Trent tilted his head at her knowing she was lying to him. Lying was a no go in your household but it was cute the times that she did do it. “Georgey too.” Teddy giggled some more, hugging Trent around his neck.  George let out an offended gasp.

“Oh, so you’re not only ratting on me, you’re also ratting on George. Ratted on us to mummy.”  Trent laughed, kissing her, rubbing his big hand up her back. You shook your head. Trent telling your daughter she had ‘’ratted’ on him was as childish as it was cute. 

“Don't you cook for Sanch, Win?” You asked, turning your attention off of Trent, George, and Teddy’s conversation that turned more into them giggling away, Trent tickling her before he put her down on the kitchen floor chasing her towards George.

“Erm no? I’m not doing that.” Winnie raised her brow confused like it was an insane question. Winnie wasn’t the most domestic nor did she really want to buy into that lifestyle. It wasn’t of interest to her.  She didn’t need to cook, frankly neither did you, but you liked to cook.  

“Winnie, shut up!.” You were trying not to laugh. You always wanted her to take an initiative to learn maybe more domestic things but it wasn’t for everyone and you needed to accept that.      

“What? Am I not allowed to say that?” Winnie questioned you resting her elbows on the marble island counter. She picked up her wine glass and swirled the liquid inside of it. You laughed and then took a deep breath in. 

“I mean…” You paused picking up your own wine glass with a silly smile teasing her. George scooped up a squealing Teddy with a laugh, the chaos continuing on in the kitchen. 

“I feel like I'm watching a reality show.” George quipped, giving Teddy a few kisses on her cheek before he picked up his own glass off the island before the water on the stove boiled over its pot after you had left it unattended.

“We are in a reality show.” Trent answered him surely, wiping Teddy’s cheek, nodding towards the stove seeing the pot steam and splash.  

“Oh shit…” You muttered in a panic seeing the water boil over despite Trent’s calm reaction. “What reality show are you watching, G?” You laughed trying to imagine what show George was watching, you couldn’t picture him doing that. Trent and George would love to tell everyone they were above reality telly but you knew better than that. Maybe George watched but Trent, you knew for sure. Trent would cave. He’d linger when you’d put ‘Celebs Go Dating’  or ‘Love Island’ on and then find himself cuddled up with you on the couch watching back to back episodes peppering you with questions about what was happening in the series.

“We should have one.” Winnie chimed in with maybe some seriousness to her comment. You all looked at her in disagreement. She laughed knowing it would cause a reaction. 

“No. we shouldn't.” You told her firmly turning back to tend to the pasta on the stovetop. You could never invite that type of lens into your life.

"You'll look sexy in a magazine and I know you'd look sexy on tv, I've seen your videos." Trent cheekily whispered behind you, coming to cage you in front of the stove. You giggled shaking your head at his innuendo. Yeah, sure, he'd seen a video of you with him and he'd be the only one to see it. One magazine publication was just about putting you over the edge, a reality show…never. Trent could keep his videos.

“I hate the rain. I don’t know how you live here.” Winnie quipped shivering in the stands at Anfield. You sat covered by the roof but still out in the cold late fall air as rain crashed down onto the pitch. 

“Win, I think you’ve said that every time you’ve ever visited.” You cooed to her, trying to smile and ignore the horrible horrible weather crashing down around you. The rain pelted onto the pitch. 

“Because it’s rained every time I’ve ever come.” Winnie complained, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands. You laughed, shaking your head, then turning when you heard the big glass door behind you slide open.

“Look at this little reason though. Hi baby! Did you get something yummy to eat with Marce and Ty?” You cooed spinning in your seat to see Teddy in Tyler’s arms in her little black Mocler puffer jacket and tiny white sambas kicking. They had kindly offered to take Teddy inside to get a snack before the game. You reached up and grabbed her from him and plopped her down onto your knee. She shoved a packet of apple crisps at you to show you. “Oh my goodness! These look so good. Will you share any with mummy?” You asked her and she nodded with a giggle. “ Thank you, Teddy girl. Do you see dada? Can you wave hi to him? We’ll blow him a kiss, okay?” You spoke gently to Teddy pointing down to the pitch where Trent was warming up with the team. Teddy followed the line of your finger to find him with a beautiful smile on her face mirroring his. You blew him a kiss and he returned it. You kissed her chubby cheek.   

“How do you know daddy isn’t waving to me, Ted?” Marcel chimed in with a cheeky laugh teasing Teddy from his place behind you. Teddy’s forehead wrinkled. She tilted her head towards him in confusion before falling into an adorably cute but offended pout. 

“No, Celly. Waving to Teddy.” She corrected him crawling across your lap to get closer to him in the seat next to you. She sat in the red plastic seat holding onto the back of it staring back at him in disagreement. 

“Well, what about mummy then? Is he not waving to her? Daddy only waves to you. Maybe he’s blowing a kiss to us as well.” Marcel pushed his argument a little further, moving his face to be directly in front of hers, squatting down to her level, their noses pressing to each other. His smug smile frustrating Teddy.

“Oh…” Teddy replied, taking a pause to think about what Marcel was telling her, taking in all the possibilities. Maybe it was true.  “Waves to mama and Teddy, tay?” She cooed, correcting him once more that Trent was in fact waving to you and her, not him. 

“Oh Marce, stop. It’s for you, baby. Daddy is waving to his good luck charm, huh?” Dianne cooed, plucking her up from the seat. Marcel moved to take a seat next to Winnie with Tyler. You got up and moved to the empty seat Teddy was in towards Dianne. 

“Yeah, baby. You're daddy’s good luck charm. Think he will win today?” You cooed, wiping your thumb over Teddy’s cheek. You weren’t sure how much she really understood after a win or a loss so it wasn’t that she was particularly lucky for Trent to win a match but she was definitely very comforting to him after any result. 

“Yeah huh, mama. Dada win!” She yelped excitedly as the players began to line up ahead of kick off. She pointed down to the pitch excitedly. Last season she couldn’t really hold her attention all that long but now it was slightly better. You were able to have her occupied trying to ‘find daddy’ on the pitch most of the match, of course interspersed with plenty of snacks and cuddles. 

“Can you tell me what you think the score will be?”  You asked her, zipping her coat up a little bit more. She kicked her legs off Dianne’s lap playfully thinking for a moment. 

“Five!” She squealed with a giggle when you tickled her tummy. Five was just a number she was loving at the moment mostly because she was working her way up counting and doing simple maths. You weren’t sure why that number was sticking. It didn’t really pertain to the actual result of the match which was cute. She just wanted to impress you. 

“Five what?” You laughed with a big smile continuing to squeeze at her. 

“Don’t knows…” She giggled, not being able to defend her answer. The ref blew the whistle and the first half began. You kissed her cheek encouragingly accepting five as an answer to the what the score would be. 

“Who do you think will score, Teddy girl?” Dianne asked her craning around her, pressing her cheek to hers. 

“My dada.” She answered confidently, very sure Trent was the best footballer in the world. You thought so as well but you both probably had a bit of a biased opinion. 

“I don’t know, maybeee we’ll see.” You laughed. The likelihood of Trent scoring was an odd one. Like it was possible but you didn’t want to get Teddy’s hopes up. The game ticked on and you continued peppering her with silly questions until you had one for Dianne. “Di, what do you think about one more?” You cooed, turning towards her in your seat setting down an antsy Teddy trying to run over to Winnie, Tyler, and Marcel who were coyly provoking her from afar. You plopped her down and she took off. 

“What! Are you pregnant?” Dianne suppressed a shocked yelp, harshly whispering. You weren’t totally sure why but it just had been on your mind a lot lately. Teddy was getting older and you and Trent had always said you wanted more kids but you didn’t know when you’d do that and you wanted her opinion because her boys were fairly spaced out. 

“No, no, no, I'm just, you know, curious what your thoughts were.” You cooed calmly with a smile. The thought of having another little cutie running about at matches was really adorable but it definitely rang in the back of your mind how scared you were of the actual pregnancy. She gave you her opinion but it was fairly vague and encouraging. She just said she’d be there for you, no matter what happened. Ninety-five minutes later and Trent’s post match media duties later Trent made his way up to you all. He plucked Teddy out of your arms giving her a big kiss but Teddy was disinterested holding onto a pout, turning from him. 

“Ted, what’s with the attitude, baby? What’s happening?”  Trent asked her rubbing his nose to her cheek. She remained steadfast recalling Marcel’s earlier comments before the game. 

“Baby, have to tell daddy if you’re upset, okay? Can’t just be in a huff with him.” You tried not to giggle but her pouty face was kind of funny especially considering it was identical to his “Are you upset about who daddy was waving to before the match?” You asked Teddy and she nodded with a humph.  “Apparently, you blew a kiss to Marce.” You informed Trent since Teddy seemingly wasn’t going to. 

“Oh baby bear… Trust me that's just for you. I promise.” He looked at her, turning her head towards him by her chin then looking for Marcel in the room with a glare. Getting Teddy to believe something wasn’t exactly a difficult task so Marcel had convinced her fairly easily. “I’ve never blown a kiss to Celly in my life. Just for my Teddy, alright?” Trent confirmed bringing his attention back to her.  

“And mama?” Teddy asked Trent, making sure that you and her were the only people his pre match kisses were for. You thought it was sweet she wanted to include you. 

“And mama too. Just for my Alexander-Arnold girls, okay?” He cooed, pulling you by the belt of your jeans into him. He kissed your temple. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leant your forehead to rest against Teddy’s.   

“I miss you, baby.” You whined, dragging your body to lay on top of Trent in the cinema the day after the match. Trent usually did bare minimum after match days so he was just hanging out but you were desperately missing him despite him being at home with you. You were craving a cuddle with him. You nuzzled up to him saying nothing really, just snuggling into him. 

“Wow, hello, you. You haven’t been this cuddly in ages, baby.” He cooed smiling, liking your affection. He kissed your hair before flicking his attention back to the big screen running his massive hands up and down your spine.   

“I miss you so much.” You whispered again, hiding your face in the nape of his neck. You just couldn’t get close enough to him. You breathed him in and sighed smushing your nose against him.

“I’m right here, beautiful.” He softly spoke starting to gauge that you were in a bit more of a mood then he had initially thought  but he wasn’t sure why. He was right. You hadn’t been alone and this clingy to him in forever. When you had a baby with you all the time it was hard to drop your roles in the house. You felt like you had responsibilities and couldn’t let yourself be ‘babied’ by him. Time alone was so coveted and it was sparse but lately… you needed Trent. You felt lonely. “Everything okay? Besides missing me, everything is going okay?” He asked hesitantly knowing that he wasn’t exactly looking forward to hearing anything but that you were okay. You thought about it for a minute and tried to think if you were okay. You hummed trying to assure him you were before falling into tears. You were sobbing. You felt so overwhelmed. “Hey, hey, hey… baby. Please, take a deep breath for me. Don’t get worked up. I’m here, okay?” He hushed you, running his hand over the back of your head keeping you tight to him.  

“I just miss being yours. I miss you all the time and when you’re away…” You tried to keep talking but your sobs got in the way. He made you take a few breaths before you tried to speak again. “ I feel like I miss you more than you miss me when we're apart.” You whimpered out keeping your face pressed to his skin.Trent felt his heart drop into his stomach. He felt horrible you felt that way.  That wasn’t true but Trent just had maybe a more relaxed approach to being apart but of course he missed you. He hated being away from you and Teddy. Although that was half the issue, it was you* and Teddy now. It was a package deal and as much as you loved that and had come to terms that was it for the rest of your life, it was still an adjustment to make. Especially as Teddy talked more she was more of a person, you felt like it was a competition for his attention and  you wanted his all focus sometimes. 

“Baby, that’s impossible.... You have no idea how much I miss you when I’m away. A bed never feels more empty when I don’t have you in it. You know I’m a sap for you, come on. You’re everything to me.” He smiled, pulling your head from his neck to hold your face in front of him. “Baby, you will be mine, you are mine forever. Alright?” He whispered, ghosting his lips over yours. You nodded sheepishly. “You want to know how much I miss you, sweet girl? I go to sleep holding a pillow like it’s you, my baby. That’s how embarrassing you make me, alright?” He laughed at himself as you hid embarrassed against his chest.

“Really?” You giggled fairly happy even though basically he was telling you that he was upset being apart.   

“Yeah, I’ll embarrass myself for you, baby. I miss you so much. I think about you all the time. Don’t think for a moment. I don't think of you every second of every day. C’mere, sweet girl.” He cooed, pulling you tight in his arms, refusing to let you go. 

“Thank you for choosing me. I’m forever grateful I have you. I just hate being apart because I like being together so much. I love you with all my heart, T. My forever.” You whispered moving to kiss him. You pressed your lips to his with a hum. Every kiss with Trent was perfection. 

“Sweet girl. I know. I’m just the same as you. It makes it harder to be apart because of how good it is when we’re together. You know though, I can’t say it enough but I’m so lucky to get to share my life with you. Thank you for letting me into your life. You’re everything to me. Wish we could spend every day just like this. Keep you in my arms right here.” He softly spoke peppering you with kisses. 

“Will you watch Love Island with me please?” You scampered into the cinema to get Trent late one night a few days later before the show was on the telly. Since your little melt down in the cinema Trent had been so sweet making sure he was attentive but he wasn’t really planning on pausing his game of FIFA to come watch with you.

“You can go watch it. Don’t need me, do ya?” He responded as you laid over top of him childishly. He patted your ass with his big hand to send you on your way but you gave him a dramatic pouty face, rolling your lip. 

“Nooo, baby with me though. And you’ll ask what happened anyways please.” You whined kissing his lips a few times to try to persuade him. 

“Yeah, alright, alright. Fine.” He laughed, shaking his head knowing that was facts, he always ended up asking as you watched. You dragged him with you and cuddled on the couch in your living room settling in his arms as the show began. You watched about a half hour or so before you turned to Trent who was giggling away at one of the girls. 

“The accents throw me when they’re all mashed together.” You laughed with him at a welsh accent. 

“Baby, what? You’re around these all the time…” He questioned you, turning your shoulders for you to come and look directly at him. 

“But no, it’s different because it’s your voice and they are from Wales and all that or I don’t know. It just gets overwhelming.” You babbled trying to defend your comment. He shook his head before kissing the bridge of your nose then turning back to watch more of the episode.  

“Do you ever wish I was like that? Like with a full beat?” You spoke up, breaking the silence you had fallen into. You questioned Trent because you never really thought about your ‘look’ compared to some British girls, particularly like some of the girls on the show you were watching. You tried your hardest not to compare yourself to the previous girls you’d heard he’d been with and even though he was your husband now, of course you wondered if he liked your makeup, your hair, your looks, he said it all the time but you’d ask again and again. 

“Nah, never. I like you how you are, beautiful. I couldn’t manage all that though” He gestured to the screen. “Having boys trying to crack on with you. Not having that.” He laughed with a trademark scowl on his face. 

“My head wouldn’t be turned. Don’t worry, cute boy.” You giggled, kissing the frown off his lips. You couldn’t imagine the idea of going on the show but if you were there against your will, you definitely wouldn’t entertain anyone but him.   

“Better fucking not be be. You're with me forever, beautiful.” He chirped cheekily wrapping his strong arms across your chest from behind you, swaying you back and forth rocking you involuntarily side to side.  

“So, you’d you couple up with me?” You laughed smitten in his arms, turning your head back towards him with a childish smile.  

“You?” Trent laughed at your naivety, looking down at you. “Yeah, I’d do a lot more than that. Put another baby in you. How about that?” He spoke fairly calmly with a sure tone as if that was a real proposition but you weren’t sure. You giggled at the absurdity. It felt like unintentionally it kept coming up again and again. 

“Yeah?” You could only laugh. Was that something he had been thinking about? It came up here and there and you’d have genuine conversations but the last like concrete decision on it was to give you some time to chill after Tedd, which you’d done and then just kind of ‘have fun’ in the bedroom and if it happens it happens. Now, it seemed to be on your mind more and more though. If it happened, it happened, that’s all well and good but what if you really wanted it to happen? What if he really wanted it to happen? 

“Yeah, You’re not running about with little bikinis for anyone else. Snog, marry, pie. All your answers better be me. Your only option is to pick me.” He kept rattling on and you tried to play catch up getting lost in your thoughts of pregnancy and the whirlwind that would be another baby. 

“Pie?” Your brow furrowed when you heard that last bit. You didn’t really think he’d want that. The conversation snapping back to playful banter.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want some other man holding that much space in that pretty head. So I better be the only one you’re thinking about.” He continued. You just hummed and tucked back into him getting comfortable again turning your attention back to the show you just missed the last 10 minutes of so you were playing catch up there as well. “You smell so good.” Trent whispered resting his chin on your shoulder from behind you tilting his head to press his nose to the nape of your neck.

“I smell how I always do.” You tried to stay passive about his comment as you were trying ardently to follow a row kicking off in the villa on the tv. 

“Just take the compliment.” He cooed with a bit of feigned frustration in his voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist a little tighter and pulled you a bit closer to him, tucking his face entirely in the crook of your neck now. 

“You’re not watching, T.” You whined as he began to place soft gentle kisses against your skin. You could feel the goosebumps arise on your skin. You’d be lying if you didn’t take note of the stupidly sensual nature of them and the obvious downward direction his hands had been moving in. 

“I’m distracted, sorry, baby. Paying attention to something I’m much more interested in.” He whispered in a tone that managed to consume all your thoughts. You gave in and leaned backwards into him pushing him into the couch cushion behind him. You rolled your body in his arms to lay on top of him. You giggled at how charmed he had you. You were going to miss the episode but suddenly you didn’t care and you just wanted to hear him keep talking to you like that. You hid your face in his neck this time and he sighed dramatically. “Well, now you aren’t watching. Don’t get shy on me, baby. If you’re not gonna watch at least come gimme a kiss.” He cooed and you beamed, smiling against his skin but he couldn’t see that. You pulled away from him momentarily and adjusted your seat, placing yourself on top of his lap, straddling him while laying forwards almost entirely on his chest. You gave him a sweet peck on the lips as you held his perfectly pretty face in your hands. 

“Nah, nah none of that. Gimme more of you.” He rumbled dropping his hands to palm your ass and pull you forward on him more. You giggled and hid from him purposefully trying to draw out this playful version of him you were so enjoying. You laid your head on his shoulder hugging his body to you.

“Yum. So so yummy.” You softly spoke as you licked down his neck. You dropped your hands to his waist and slipped your hands under his t-shirt running them up and over his abs. 

“Show me that side of you I love, the one that’s only for me, baby. That you’d never show on tv.” He whispered, rolling his head to the side to give you more room and you took him up on his offering. You began to work small kisses, nibbles, and licks to the most sensitive part of his neck. 

“Maybe not tv but for your camera I’d do this.” You responded, working your kisses up his neck over to his ear as you spoke. You bit on his earlobe and tugged gently. He let out a groan and you could feel him push his hardening cock in his shorts into you. “T… I want you to do it.” You hummed moving your lips down his jaw before finding his lips with yours crashing into them with a hasty passionate kiss he wasn’t expecting. You had gone zero to sixty in no time. 

“Do what, beautiful? What do you want me to do for you?” He asked pretty coy considering he genuinely didn’t know what you were asking for. He knew it was related to possibly having sex right now but the specifics? Not a clue. 

“A baby, T. Put another baby in me.” You whined, dragging him back into a kiss. You night escalated as expected and in the following days since your Love Island love making, you had been all over Trent. You were horny* to say the least. It felt like you had just met him again. You were obsessed with everything he did and he wasn’t exactly complaining. You fucked in bed last night, you fucked in the shower this morning and here you were enjoying your morning in a way you didn’t think you would have been. In fact it was stupidly better than what you could have imagined. You were laying in Trent’s lap and by that you mean you were laying on your stomach, your legs spread open for him while he watched an F1 race and played with your pussy in the cinema. It started fairly innocent but then when you found yourself laid the way you were his hand wandered as you scrolled on your phone. He kept his gaze fixed on the tv and laid back pulling you with him by your thighs. You let out a soft giggle but neither of you said anything more. He just liked to do this. He massaged your thighs and then moved his hands to your ass and slowly but surely Trent continued to push your clothes to the side revealing more and more of you and was more than thrilled when he found that you had decided not to wear any panties, you were tempting fate. He was gradual but direct as he began to run his thumb in between your folds. He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, you were magnetic to him. Your ass and pussy from this angle made his cock twitch but he was just relaxing. It was nothing more than just wanting to be close to you and you weren’t even paying attention. He played with you until you were a wet mess. You tried to stay fixated on your phone but this had morphed into some sort of competition. He drew his thumb away from you and you bit back a whine. He lewdly slurped your slick off himself coating his fingers in more of his saliva and moved them back to you to your relief, you were getting needier by the second. You weren;t sure what would qualify as a win or a loss but you were pretty sure both of you caved when he grabbed you by your thighs once more and angled your pussy up towards his lips. He slid his hands up to your hips and pulled your pussy to his pout, sinking his face into you fast but smoothly. You didn’t stop him. You would’ve never. In your day to day you felt the need to have some semblance of control but the second Trent drew near… you crumbled for him. His big hands kneaded your ass squeezing you to his face. And soon enough, his lips had found your clit, he had you under his command. He let out a moan of his own as he spread you open more for him. You grinded back into him desperately feeling yourself so close to reaching your high.  He ravenously ate you out. He made out with your body with zero shame. He was messy and hot, groaning, holding you securely, drinking you in. You tried to hold back a moan but it was a lost cause at this point. The way he ate you out was devilish and you just wanted him to keep sinning. You could feel his hard cock pushing up into your stomach from underneath you. He hummed and slurped hearing you finally whine for him. You just let him eat you out attempting to turn your attention back to your phone despite the pleasure coursing through you. He swirled his tongue around your clit as he dragged his fingers towards your entrance. You could feel yourself tumbling towards your release. He groaned, pulling away for a moment spitting onto your soaking wet pussy. He was drunk off you. Completely transfixed. He had no idea if the race was still on the TV and he really didn’t care.

“Good girl, baby.” He hummed. “You taste so good, just relax and let go, beautiful.” He whispered kissing and licking you all over. He moved his fingers to come back to you and slip inside as he adjusted his position to flick his tongue against your clit more and more. Your back arched as you pushed back into him, feeling your orgasm crash over you. You whined pathetically as he kept working through your high. You could feel him smiling into you. Your chest heaved as you came down but you were fairly quick to turn yourself around to come and face him. 

“Oh my god…” You giggled. “ So will you let me give you a proper thank you, T baby?” You asked as you outstretched your arms to his shoulders sliding your hands under his t-shirt. He shook his head trying to say no, although he had no plans to stop you, knowing you were determined. He moved one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You let him stroke his thumb over your skin before you pulled his hand from your cheek dragging it down to your lips. You kissed the inside of his palm before you wrapped your lips around one of his fingers. He watched you suck on his finger with his mahogany brown eyes following your every movement with a smirk. You released his finger and moved kisses from his hand up his arm coming to his chest. 

“Fuck, go ahead baby.” He hummed with a smug look on his face allowing you to slink down the couch placing yourself in between his legs. You looked devastatingly innocent and cute as you pulled on his shorts. You worked to undress him with a begging hum. In swift succession you were lost sucking his cock, working up and down his length, gagging on the size of him, loving the feeling of running your tongue along a bulging vein. Trent thrusted his hips up into you gently. “Such a good girl, baby. So good f’me.” He groaned barely holding up. You began to move a bit slower, feeling him get closer to his release. He narrowed his eyes on you watching you begin to tease him. You flashed him a cheeky smile. You swirled your tongue around him, sliding your hands up his strong thighs. Trent readjusted his position and reached forward to pull your top down. Your cheeky smile returned, smug that he needed to see more. He hummed seeing your hard nipples from how turned on you were from his tongue on you earlier and him in your mouth now. You whined as you watched his abs tense as you continued to work. “Gonna cum. Fuck…” He grunted simultaneously as you felt his release run down your throat. You smiled with a giggle and pure pleasure sitting back onto your heels after swallowing all of him. He leaned back onto the cushion running his hands over his face letting out a puff of air. You stuck your tongue out licking over your lips to taste him and to clean your mouth up. You laid on top of him childishly and moved for a cuddle as if you hadn’t just done anything remotely dirty.

“Want to see something exciting?” You giggled after a long while still tucked on the couch. You shuffled off him. You turned to stand up and he raised his brow confused why you were leaving such a comfortable place.

“What’s up, baby? Where are you going, beautiful?” He cooed with a smirk thinking you looked adorable readjusting your tiny shorts before running out the room.

“Hold onn!” You yelled back to him as you scurried out of the room. You came back into the room quickly with a few things in your hand. You plopped down sitting cross crossed next to Trent again on the couch. “Loookkkk!” You giddily squealed, shoving the things in your hand towards him. You showed him all your documents, your passport and driver's license  you had gotten officially changed to Y/N Alexander-Arnold.  “I forgot to tell you I finally got these!” You giggled surprised you hadn’t remembered to tell him the moment you did but you had just tucked everything away and got lost in the days since. That said, having his cock in your mouth had you reveling in the fact that you were now Mrs. Alexander-Arnold, reminding you.

“Oh my days. Wow that’s massive, baby. That’s so big. My girl.” He kissed your temple, taking your license from you to really inspect it. “Seems so surreal. You look leng in this, damn.” He laughed looking at a particularly good photo of you. You giggled cuddling into him. “All mine, even the government knows that, yeah?” He cooed and you hummed in agreement with a smile. 

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍

Next part - Chapter 28 xx

[blues824]

im surprised this hasn't been requested yet,, but could you please do malleus, jade, floyd, silver and trey with a reader who is like alice kingsleigh? im talking about the live-action alice, not the animated one (im unsure if they act the same, its been a while since i watched the animated one).

The LA and the animated versions are quite different. Gender-neutral reader.

Trey Clover

You were as brave as you were adventurous, and he appreciated that about you. However, your sense of adventure often ended up with you in trouble with Riddle, and this baker had to bail you out with a Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card (a strawberry tart) more times than he can count. You loved standing up for what you believed was right, and you didn’t think the Queen’s rules were just at all.

Trey loved hearing about your own world. The different cultures and how you were seen as crazy always amused him. However, whenever you got to the parts where you were either going to have a spouse chosen for you or you were going to be thrown into a mental asylum because you had the ability to travel through mirrors and get from Twisted Wonderland back to your world… or so you claimed, according to your world, he was in disbelief. Your land seemed even more twisted than anything Twisted Wonderland has to offer.

All that aside, you do have to admit that the treats your beloved baker makes are better than the Eat Me! pastry that you had consumed however many months ago. It did increase your size by a very significant amount… you almost destroyed Heartslabyul. However, you just drank the Drink Me! potion and you shrank down to the size of a pencil. Trey took it upon himself to make sure that you weren’t squashed, and you sat on his shoulder.

The Vice Housewarden knows of your distaste for the patriarchy, but this man was written by a woman (literally and figuratively). When he threaded his fingers through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss, you could tell that it was genuine love that he felt for you. He had no intention to ‘tame’ you. No, he wanted to be the person you returned home to, and you were grateful for that.

Jade Leech

He was intrigued by you, to say the least. You marched so bravely into Azul’s office that day and you demanded that your friends be freed of their contract. Considering you were a sea captain and knew much more about shady deals with pirates than Azul knows about making shady deals, you were able to find loopholes within the loopholes created. You took your time and read through the fine print and pointed out errors, and seeing the cecaelia so riled up in anger made the eel’s heart beat quickly.

That is how you both became friends, actually, and romantic partners. Your sense of adventure aligned with his, and you both swam and hiked with each other. You lived an active lifestyle, something that doesn’t quite fit within the societal standards of your world, so keeping up with Jade was no challenge for you. Every single time you make it up a mountain, you always ask about the different mushrooms and their properties, and this eel is more than happy to tell you.

Your Unique Magic was definitely strange, as you had the ability to travel between entire worlds. For any holiday break, you were able to go back home. However, you rushed back into Twisted Wonderland in what seemed to be a tattered straitjacket. Your eyes were a bit sunken in, and you seemed a bit woozy. That’s when you told him, with slurred speech, that you had been sent to a mental asylum and injected with a bit of medicine to make you go to sleep before you pulled the syringe out and stabbed it into the doctor.

Jade took you to his room where he helped you take off the straitjacket, offering you one of his own shirts and hoodies. Then, he tucked you into bed so that you could sleep off the medicine’s effects. Oh, he definitely wanted the doctor who did this to you to pay, but for some reason, he was not able to go to your world like you were able to. But your tired ramblings of forced marriage and societal standards made him want to find a way so he could make those humans pay for touching his beloved.

Floyd Leech

He, too, was intrigued by you when you marched into Azul’s office and demanded to read your friends’ contracts. He did get bored when you sat down and read the fine print, but when you pointed out a loophole that managed to get your friends out, Floyd was genuinely surprised. No one has ever managed to do that before, which made his hyperfixation on you even more apparent and present.

But, that ‘hyperfixation’ wasn’t a ‘hyperfixation’... it was a crush. Your adventurous personality both aligned with and contradicted his. You never made him bored. You liked playing basketball with him so that he could get extra practice. You loved sneaking him away during his 15 minute break at the Mostro Lounge just so that you could hang out with him a bit more. Also, when he was in a bad mood, you were not afraid of being squeezed because you faced an entire jabberwocky before. A grumpy eel was nothing to you.

During that break where you were originally going to go home, he did not want you to leave. Well, just a few days into the break, you jumped back through the mirror in a straitjacket and you were stumbling about. You ran as fast as you could to Octavinelle and into the [closed] Lounge. Floyd rushed to see what was wrong, and you went on and on about how you were thrown into a mental asylum and injected with medicine that would put you to sleep. He picked you up and over his shoulder and took you to his room where you slept off the medicine’s effects. He cuddled close to you, and you would never know how angry he was.

Even though it doesn’t seem like he pays attention, he knows that nothing matters to you more than continuing your father’s legacy as a sea captain. However, he never wanted you to go back to your world if it would kill you. After all, he can’t function without his shrimpy. Anyways, you could be a sea captain in Twisted Wonderland, and he would even go with you. He could swim as much as he wanted, he could sail as much as he wanted, and he would get to be with you.

Malleus Draconia

He knew you were different based on the way you walked up to him and just introduced yourself. You held no fear of him, but you didn’t know who he was. When he told you to call him what you will, this intrigued you even more. You both found yourselves excited to meet up each night, as you got to know more about this mysterious new friend that you had made yourself acquainted with.

When you inevitably discovered who he truly was, you understood where he was coming from. Nothing really changed, but you often teased him about keeping more secrets from you. Eventually, a flower of romantic interest bloomed between the two of you, and every single time he brought you back to Ramshackle, he would wish you farewell by placing a polite and loving kiss on the back of your hand. When he looks back up at you, you can feel your heart flutter a bit because of the amount of love he looks at you with.

Malleus had no intention of ‘taming’ you either. If you were to rule beside him, you would do wonderfully as-is. Your world did not share the same view, and one night you had told him about your winter break when he came back. You were taken in by Octavinelle when you ran back through the mirror from your world in a straitjacket and you had some medicine injected into you at that point. The dragon prince was absolutely angry, and a storm was starting to form as you went on and on about the happenings.

If you think you are ever going back to your world, you are sadly mistaken. He is not letting you go back just so you can be tossed back into an insane asylum. He knows about your desire to carry out your father’s legacy, but you can do that here. Actually, he still hates the idea of you being away from him, but it will do because at least you would be in Twisted Wonderland. Plus, there is no chance that you are going to fall for someone else, so he has nothing to worry about.

Silver

He reminded you of the dormouse that you had met. He always fell asleep, which was unfortunate when one was as adventurous as you were. But you were not going to let him lie in the middle of the hallway just to be trampled. It was with a tad bit of difficulty that you pulled him onto a chair and off of the floor. However, he miraculously woke up because of all the extra movement, just to see you really close to his face. To say he was startled [and flustered] would be an understatement.

This was a start to a rather interesting relationship. Since he was a knight, you compared him to the card knights in Underland, but found there to be no comparison at all. After all, he was not rushing to paint the roses red. He was very serious compared to your first year friends (excusing Jack and Sebek), but that was what you liked about him. He, too, was the constant in your life, even if you had only known him for a short period of time.

Silver appreciates peace, but he appreciates you even more. So, when he comes back from Briar Valley, and he hears whispers about you being thrown into a mental asylum back home, he is running around trying to find you. He found you at Ramshackle, staring at a straitjacket with a look of absolute betrayal on your face. That was when he realized that all the whispers were correct. He pulled you into his arms, grateful that you were okay. 

From that point on, he kind of treats you differently. He doesn’t want you going back to your world if that is how they are going to treat you. No, he will keep you safe because he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He supports your dream of being a sea captain, and he will help you learn the different lands from a multitude of different maps so that you could be confident in the geography of Twisted Wonderland.

[svt-rosalie]

. . . ♡ OUTSIDE ! ? 🧁 RELATIONS ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ relationships! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2023 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ POPULARITY — 100%

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ SHIP NAME — yerim + jihye ❪ 2YE ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DESCRIPTION — yeri and jihye are the two bestfriends that found each other in every lifetime. they both debuted the same year only 2 months in between the other, and it was the best thing to happen for them.

to be honest they both felt a sense of security in each other when they first met. one had just debuted that’s been a group for a year now and one just debuted in a male dominated group, both receiving extreme backlash. despite that, the two have a lot in common and enjoy the same things. they got along extremely well and snuck each other over to the others dorm for secret sleepovers. they went to school together and we’re always attached to the hip in the halls. jihye would ask junhui to pack extra snacks in her lunch so she could share them with her new best friend at school — even going as far as asking her parents for extra pocket money so she can take her new friend out to eat!

they’ve stuck with each other through thick and thin and have always supported everything the other does. yeri will post about jihye’s comebacks with seventeen and jihye will do a cover of red velvet’s. 8 years of a friendship that will never end not even if the world does.

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ POPULARITY — 81%

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ SHIP NAME — yoongi + jihye ❪ YOOJI ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DESCRIPTION — jihye has been an army since they debuted in 2013, she has all the original printed albums and even has two signed by the boys themselves from two fan meets she was able to attend! at that time jihye had expressed her concerns about being a trainee at pledis and debuting to the freshly debuted suga and their interactions had stuck with him.

it was an (emotional) surprise for yoongi when jihye debuted at the age of fifteen just a month after the release of bts’s comeback ‘i need u’. when they saw each other again the first thing jihye did was hug the older boy and say “look oppa! i did it, i finally debuted — sorry for not telling you!”.

jihye has always looked up to yoongi as an older brother she never got to have. for yoongi, jihye was like a breath of fresh air and he loves having her in his, she’s the little sister he always wanted to be a big brother to. he’s the one she babbles to about boys and girls she finds cute that week, he’s the one she calls when she can’t sleep and knows he’s probably awake too, he’s the one that has a spare key to her apartment just incase, ya know?

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ POPULARITY — 87%

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ SHIP NAME — yunjin + jihye ❪ JIYUN ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DESCRIPTION — jihye is like an older sister that you just love having around and always wanting to do everything with them. though they do tease each other 24/7 but we just won’t mind that.

they became close friends whilst yunjin was a trainee and when she appeared on produce 101 where jihye was a vocal mentor! not a lot of it was seen on screen as to not put either of the girls in a bad light of playing “favorites” whilst yunjin was on the show but jihye always cheered yunjin silently and behind the scenes of everything she did.

when yunjin was discouraged after working so hard and not feeling like it was her best, jihye would take her out for a meal and give her the best words of encouragement she could give to yunjin at the time. when yunjin debuted, jihye was right telling carats to support her younger sister’s debut and cheer her on — even telling them to vote her group during live performances saying she deserves a win after working so hard ( we love such a supportive older sister ).

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ POPULARITY — 70%

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ SHIP NAME — minjeong + jihye ❪ JIJEONG ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DESCRIPTION — winter came into jihye’s life when jihye was going through a very rough time mentally. jihye was usually always in and out of the SM building as she was friends with many of the artist there including yeri of red velvet, haechan, jaehyun, and jungwoo of nct, and also minho of shinee.

on the specific day the two met, winter accidentally bumped into the girl when she was having an emotion moment in one of the SM bathrooms before she was leaving. winter gave just the right amount of comfort and the right amount of love to jihye that, jihye just stuck to her like glue. they are each others support system when things get tough and don’t know where to look.

you’ll see a lot of the time they are on facetime with each other 24/7 — doesn’t matter what they are doing, rosalie could be asleep and winter does not hang up because that’s her little baby rosie what would she think if she woke up and winter wasn’t on the phone still? it make a very upset rosebud. like i said before they are stuck like glue and can’t detach themselves from the other. ever.

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ POPULARITY — 82%

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ SHIP NAME — donghyuck + jihye ❪ JIHYUCK ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DESCRIPTION — haechan forced his way into jihye’s life and you will hear her complaining. haechan was like a baby duck that saw jihye and decided “yes i will now follow you around forever mother duck”.

he was very much jealous when he found out that yeri of red velvet was close friends with jihye of seventeen and obviously knowing that one of his group members (cough jaemin cough) had a crush on the girl he just HAD to make her his friend, if not BEST friend. he’ll mention jihye any chance he gets “rosalie of seventeen and i are friends!” “no you aren’t?” “yes we are, i bet if i call her right now she’ll answer.” *rings rosalie and it goes to voicemail after 2 rings* “she’s just busy right now, she’s famous. . . ya know?” “just take the loss haechan.”

as you can see they have a very funny friend ship. jihye “acts” like she can’t stand haechan and haechan loves to be around and annoy jihye. it’s a very well balanced duo of i do say so myself. despite all that, they do support each other a lot and go out for lunches/dinners quite frequently and have random sleepovers with their 00’ liner friends whenever they can!

tag list — @ikissvernon

[getodrools]

FIRST TIME OUUUUU IM JUMPING

now of course, choso is gonna propose to have his first time at your place! i mean, as much as he would LOVE to stain his sheets with your juices — n most likely not clean it for a few days but he figured a cute, popular girl like him would see his electric guitar and band posters and run instantly, poor sweets is so insecure :( and doesn't know you're into emo boys like that, which is why he practically won the lottery when you picked him as your new fuck buddy <3

anyways, from the moment you bent over in front of him to grab some condoms in your drawer and he gets a glimpse of your lace hello kitty panties, he's practically frothing at the mouth!!! he's practically drunk — and you haven't even started : ( you start undressing?? he's done for. girls, body, sex, his dirty fantasies coming true!! he was fighting the urge to pull out his cock and start fucking you right there but woah !! breathe, choso, for once have some decorum.

choso has no idea what he’s doing, but he knows he wants to touch you. sweet thing, he asks if he can touch you as if you were a goddess and as soon as you giggle a “of course, silly!” his hands are everywhere. ass, thighs, waist, tits, God is his hands and mouth latched on your tits!!! your little mews only edge him on further, he was sad when no milk came out :((((( maybe he’ll just have to marry you and get you pregnant so he can taste more of your juices! a loser can dream. but he’ll jerk off to that later, it’s time for the real thing.

little did you know choso came in his pants just from you making out with him. your glossy lips on his, the feeling of your clothed cunt grazing oh so gently over his massive buldge, he couldnt help it !! when you tease him for it, blood goes straight to his dick. he is harddd, and pretty boy can’t wait any longer so he begs to go inside and of course you comply.

i almsot forgot foreplay, he knew how big he was and he didn’t want to see his precious (hopefully) sweet girl in pain, so he eats you out. he’s never been two inches close to pussy before, so best believe hes lapping your juices with his tongue piercing, eating you out and overstimulating you to the max before you have to pull his hair and make him move away, which turns him on (hair pulling kinkkk!). his brain is hayware like the sound when you win the lottery, because he managed to make you squirt. cha-ching !! he’s so putting that in his diary.

he almost got carried away in the process, almost. don’t forget this is choso, he may be the one fucking but he’ll follow your orders like a dog if it means he’ll feel you cum on his dick. “c-choso, faster please!” and instantly, he mutters a “fuck— yes ma’am . . !” and before you know it, he’s basically bullying your pretty pussy :< rutting into you, the both of you chase your high and the click of realisation to pull out just barely hits him, his cum now all over your precious tits, your own seeping out of you beautifully, and he gets down to lick it up the globs. oh but of courseeee, he asks to take a picture of your cum covered tits, and mentally cheers when you say yes. that’s definitely being printed and placed on his wall !! hes thank you over and over again, and you cant help but want to go for another round at the praise :3

after it’s all done, while he’s changing, you ask him where the underwear he hastily removed from you has wandered off to ! where could it have possibly gone !? the boy pulls an innocent facade and shrugs an “hmm.. i-i’m not too sure”, as if it is currently stuffed in his jeans, but like the complete ditz you are, and you pay no mind > 0 < and thank God you dont!’ now pervy degenerate choso can jerk off at home to it almost every night :)

but there’s noooooo need, when you set fireworks off in his head when you kiss his cheek and propose to do this again.

hope you enjoyed this, that’s all i got ! nighty nighttt !

— pearl anon <3

okaaaaaaaay I GASPED— literally screaming directly at my phone, tongue out, shaking, frothing omfg ?? pls tell me ur a fanfic writer ‘cause this is so 🤯

also, i just loveeeved how u added emo choso having a tongue-piercing –> AGREED. and him saying, yes ma'am ??? dropped to my knees. i luv when guys say that ??? LMAO… ur rotting my brain pearl ! ! now im wondering if choso would make up things, like “having your pussy licked boosts brain activity.” after easily getting away with ur panties ?1?1?

this was so JUICY to read, THANK YOU. ♡

[joonieskinks]

"office romance" ksj - m

reader x coworker!seokjin | fluff and pining and smut hehe | 2.1k

summary: you’ve daydreamed about your gorgeous coworker for months now, you never thought anything would come of it though, but what happens when he corners you in the printer room and asks to make you his?

warnings: swearing, office romance (obvs), seggsual fantasies, eating out (female receiving), praise

Damn it. Fourth time today. You thought and mentally clocked, that's how many times you've happened to make eye contact with him yet again this afternoon.

Him being the handsomest, most drop-dead gorgeous thing you've ever seen in your life - and Seokjin was only ever looking right back at you. Frankly, it made your heart skip several beats. It gave you hope, but sometimes you wonder if you're simply mistaken and he's just staring back at you cause he catches you in the act.

See, at the office here, you get the option to have a sitting or a standing desk of your own, in which there is an electronic button that you press to make the desk move up or down. Down is for sitting, below your cubicle walls, rather hidden and private. But for standing, when you move your desk up, you can see above said cubicle walls. And when Seokjin does the same, you end up being diagonal from each other, only a few feet away, right in the corner of each others' eyes. Always slightly just out of focus, but never too far out of mind.

This made is impossible not to notice him, ogle him and fantasize as you stared. Sure, maybe it's a little creepy looking if you were a third party looking onwards, but your chest swells, your head spins and you can't seem to tear yourself away. Seokjin is just it for you.

He's so kind, cordial and broad... So broad, that you find yourself fantasizing about his bare shoulders, your legs locked on either side of them, Seokjin ramming into you over and over until he pushes you over the edge and-

"Y/N?" Seokjin calls, interrupting your rather vivid daydream.

"Uh, yes?" You shake your head in the slightest, trying to shoo the naughty vision away and offer a small smile to try and cover up.

"I just sent you a copy of tomorrow's meeting checklist that I'm printing now, will you come help me staple all the pages together? After all, you're the one who is so brilliantly organized here." Seokjin chuckles a little, his gorgeous smile settling in on his cheeks before making his way to the printer room down the hall.

"Oh- yes. Sure! Coming!" You assure, departing from your desk, but not before you glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, adjusted your underwear beneath your skirt, desperately trying to get the fabric to stop sticking to your dripping core.

Did he just compliment you? You and your organizational skills. It may not be an outright declaration of attraction like you've dreamed of, but hey, it's lovely knowing he's thought about you and your capabilities. The feeling gives you butterflies as you walk down the hall to meet him in the printer room. Only, when you come into the room, your broad-shouldered colleague is nowhere to be found.

You take a step or two into the room, eyes scanning for his frame, however the room is rather small with two printers and a few cabinets. Where could he have really gone?

You turn around to go look elsewhere for him, however the door shuts suddenly in front of your face, Seokjin emerging from behind it. He locks the door, trapping the two of you in. Your eyes move from his fingers on the lock to his eyes, already gazing back into yours.

"This should buy us a few minutes, I'll start the printer machine and so if you make any noises, it'll be sure to conceal them." He slowly moves towards you, until your chests meet and his nose is in line with yours.

"Seok-Seokjin..." You stutter out, stunned by his initiative and the entire gravity of the situation around you rapidly unfolding.

"I've seen how you look at me, you must have seen how I look at you." He states, his warm hands coming to rest on your hips after loosening up his tie by his throat. Seokjin then looks into your eyes scanning for approval, his eyebrows raising upwards slightly as to ask for permission. You simply nod, hesitating to put your hands up to his big, broad shoulders while you manage to mutter a soft “yes”.

Oh, how you've dreamed of this.

"Y/N, if I am wrong and alone in wanting this, tell me now. Please." He hums, eyes closing shut, his nose pressing against yours, lips hovering. You inhale his scent up close for the first time and suddenly you feel hypnotized, your nails digging into his collared shirt. You have wanted nothing more than this for months, of course you want him. Yes. Yes, you want Kim Seokjin.

"No, you're not alone. I thought I was too obvious actually with my want for you." You admit bashfully, cheeks burning a hot red and you want to bury your face in his chest to hide. He only chuckles that sweet, sweet laugh and brings a hand to your chin. Seokjin tilts your head back up to meet his eyes.

"I think it was sweet."

He hesitates for a moment, admiring your face and features, and you admire him right back. He's just as gorgeous and perfect up front as he is from a distance.

"Y/N, Can I kiss yo-?" "Please, yes." You blurt out, not wanting to waste a single second more. Seokjin's head immediately whips to the right and his hand presses a button on the printer, "print". As the machine loudly pipes up and begins printing its 200-something pages, he finally attaches his lips to yours. His firm hands grip your waist, yours up to his neck, desperate to pull him closer. You could care less who sees or hears you at this point, you're too wrapped up in him to care. He's actually kissing you and he actually wants you back... it feels like a fantasy come to life. Perhaps it is.

"I've wanted you so bad," Seokjin mumbles against your lips, teeth gently pulling on yours to tease you. "Want to make you mine". He purrs and you can feel the slick gliding down your legs. You whine as you automatically go to rub your thighs together to ease your ever growing desire. Seokjin notices instantly, his gaze drops down to your skirt, back up to your eyes then onto the nearest counter. You can physically see his train of thought.

The smirk settles onto his cheeks, and before you know it, you're whisked away. Hands go to your ass, encouraging you to jump, and when you do, Seokjin mutters something under his breath. Something resembling, "always wanting to grab this ass...". He gently places your aching body down on the cold counter, his body coming to stand between your legs. He bunches up your skirt, allowing your clothed core to rub against his own clothed length. You reach for his collar and reunite your lips once more, adding your tongues into the mix. He's moaning into your mouth and you do the same, hands touching and exploring each others body as the printer's noises continue to fill the room.

"Seokjin, we don't have much time..." You attempt to mutter out as he continues to press kisses onto your mouth. It feels like you're drowning in him, but in the best way possible.

"Can I taste you?" He abruptly asks, not even hesitating in the slightest. He knows exactly what he wants. Immediately, you're nodding and he springs into action. He pulls back from your body and glances down to your dripping core. He moans at the sight, and you spot the damp, dark mark you've left on his pants. You start to blurt out an apology when he cuts you off- "You're the hottest fucking woman I've ever seen in my life."

Your jaw falls slightly open at the confession, your office fantasies literally springing to life. You feel like you could cry, sing, smile and scream all at once. However all that comes out is the moan of his name, begging him to release your bodily aches for him.

"I got you, baby. I got you." Seokjin coos, getting onto his knees, desperately trying to ignore his raging hard-on for you. Right now, he just wanted to taste your soaked core that ached for him so badly. There would be plenty of time later to satisfy his own needs - but right now, he just wanted to make you cum while he had the chance.

Seokjin's face is now level with your panties - if you were anything else but horny for the man in front of you, you'd be embarrassed. However not this time, all you could think of was his tongue finally pressed against you, allowing him to pleasure you like this.

"Seokjin, please." You beg, sliding your ruined panties off to expose yourself before him, your clenching cunt now dripping onto the counter.

"Fuck me, you're so wet." He can't bring himself to look away from you and immediately grabs your legs and swipes them onto his shoulders. Your head falls backwards, eyes closing as you cherish the feeling. Then your eyes are all over him again, taking in the beautiful image of your thighs locked around his head. He looks up at you for approval once more and you nod your head rapidly. The printer would be done soon, and you really don't think you'll be able to contain your moans for this. He'd better hurry up.

"You're so beautiful like this, Y/N." He purrs as his lips attach themselves to your sensitive clit. Your whole body jolts as the sensation works its way up your spine. Your back arches and your hole clenches repeatedly, desperate to be filled. He takes the hint and as his tongue laps up your juices, he inserts two fingers into you. You already feel full as his long digits curl upward into that spot that makes you see stars. You can't help but wonder what his length will feel like filling you up too...

"Seokjin! Right there, right there, please!" You moan out, unaware of your volume at this rate. You can only think about him and coming undone before him. His fingers enter in and out of you, hitting your g-spot over and over until you're approaching your end. His tongue dances on your clit, he sucks and together the actions have you seeing white. The orgasm takes over your body and you cling to him for some stability.

"There you go, there you go, I got you. You look so good when you cum for me, baby." Seokjin reassures, gently cleaning you up with his tongue. He moans into your pussy and jolt a little as you come down from your high. Seokjin stands, fixes your legs, skirt and hands you your now utterly ruined panties. He smiles down at you and leans into kiss you once more, just as the printer ends its loud sounds and completes the job. You hold his body close to yours, tasting yourself on his lips.

"Thank you," you say against his mouth. "I've wanted you for so long, I never thought you would feel the same way." His hands come up to your cheeks, holding you endearingly.

"Of course I do, I thought I made it obvious at all the office parties and looking back at you too. But I guess today was just the last straw for me, I could practically see how badly you wanted to be fucked by me in that head of yours". Seokjin teases you. His mouth coming to your ear, nipping at your earlobe and then kissing behind. "We can continue this tonight".

A knock on the door disturbs you two, Jimin asking you to 'open up already'. Immediately you begin to try and slip your panties back on and jump down from the counter, but Seokjin blocks you.

"Seokjin!" You whisper desperately. He kisses you one last time before you must depart for a little bit.

"Think about it, okay? I meant it when I said it, I want you. Please let me have you?" You just giggle in response.

"I want you too. Come to mine at 6, okay? I'll give you my address." You kiss his nose, hopping down and adjusting your outfit before the knock grows louder.

"Hey! Open the door guys! I got shit to do!" Jimin yells.

You two give each other a nod when you're ready - you gather the papers, handing some to him and then Seokjin opens the door. He goes to exit, but turns to you once more, he offers a little wink too. It makes you smile and melt that much more.

"See you tonight then." And off he goes back to his desk with the papers.

Jimin glances around, from Seokjin to you to the printer. "Awe, you guys didn't even staple everything together. Don't make me do it just because I'm new" Jimin points out, and you ponder. "You heard that?"

"Yeah, the whole office did. And you two fucking or whatever that was. The printers are loud but not that loud." Jimin scoffs, taking over the printer. Embarrassment washes over you and briefly you wonder how you'll ever recover from this. But at the same time, you just got the man of your dreams, he ate you out and now you'll be finally fucking him tonight.

So - today was a win in your books nonetheless.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part twenty-six: "The Big Win"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nelson, Murdock, and Page obtain a big win on a court case that makes the news. You were planning to go out and celebrate with everyone at Josie’s until you unexpectedly overhear something that keeps you at home and in tears.

Or

Your mind mentally spirals telling you that you’re not good enough for Matt.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.3k

a/n: This is a light angst installment with some comfort at the end! I am still steadily trying to bring all 75 (soon to be 76) installments over to tumblr but there are SO many. You can find the list of installments that are on tumblr for this series here. Also, always feel free to chat and leave some love, it is always much appreciated!

Eyes scanning the menu above the register as you waited in line, you tried to decide what you wanted to grab for dinner. You'd stopped inside a Vietnamese restaurant near The Bulletin after you got off work, starving and in a hurry.

Matt had invited you out to celebrate at Josie’s tonight with Karen, Foggy, and Marci. Their firm had won a huge case yesterday–so big of a win that it had made the front page of most print and digital news outlets in the city. Bianca was the one who'd written the piece for The Bulletin, Ellison claiming you were a little too close and therefore too biased to write the article. But you'd smiled at the front page this morning, eyes focused on the image of Matt’s smiling face next to Foggy and Karen on the courthouse steps. 

When you'd spoken to him on the phone at lunch he'd been so excited. He had been talking animatedly to you about all the calls their office had received today as you listened with a large smile on your face. You were proud of him and eager to share in his excitement tonight.

Which was why you'd decided to swing by the restaurant to grab some takeout. Your plan was to rush home and eat before changing into something less business casual and just plain casual before celebrating with your friends. And thankfully it was a Friday night, which meant you all didn't need to hold back with your celebrations. 

As you were very much considering ordering some beef pho to eat and warm you up before your walk to Josie’s later, your eye caught sight of Matt’s face on the woman's phone in front of you. Smiling, you saw it was the article about their firm and pride flooded you again. 

But it quickly left you when the young woman gasped loudly and shook her friend's arm, drawing her attention to the image.

"Oh my God," she hissed, her finger pointing at Matt’s face. "That's the sexy lawyer I told you about!"

You saw her friend glance over at the phone screen, her brows quickly rising high on her forehead at the sight of Matt’s picture. Your stomach felt like it sunk to your knees, a strange feeling washing over you. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but with what came next, you couldn't stop.

" That's the hot blind lawyer you fucked?" the friend asked in awe.

It felt like time had slowed down just as someone punched you in the gut. She slept with Matt? Your Matt? 

"Yeah, a couple of years ago when their firm just opened. I see him around the courthouse sometimes when I'm there," she continued. "Seriously, that man's tongue is magic . And his stamina is insane."

You flinched, a sick feeling swirling in your stomach. Jaw tightening, you tried to fight back the nauseous feeling in your gut thinking about her hands on Matt’s body and his hands on hers–the same hands he tenderly touched you with. 

"I actually saw him the other week," the woman continued on, entirely oblivious to your world falling apart behind her. "Was hoping to get another night with him. I mean, no one has compared since that night I had with him. And he somehow looks even more fit now under those dress shirts. But apparently he has a girlfriend? Says he's not like that anymore."

"Well whoever she is, she sounds like a lucky bitch," the friend said, eyeing the photo of Matt appreciatively again. 

Yeah, you definitely felt like you were going to be sick.

"That man is wasted on one woman," the other woman grumbled. "There's no way he's satisfied with her. Unless she's like, some sort of sex goddess rolled into a model's body."

Flinching again, you involuntarily took a step back from the pair of them. You did not want to hear this. You did not want to think about this. 

"Why would that matter? It's not like he could see her," the friend pointed out. 

The other woman laughed as if Matt’s blindness was some sort of joke. The sound grated on your nerves, your teeth grinding together. Suddenly you found yourself no longer even remotely hungry. 

Turning on your heel, you sidestepped the person behind you and headed straight for the exit. You felt like you couldn't breathe as you pushed out of the restaurant door, tugging at the collar of your coat and your blouse. For a moment, all your brain could conjure up was the sound of that woman's irritating voice moaning Matt's name. 

Tears stung at your eyes and you roughly wiped the heel of your palm over them, exhaling a rough breath and heading in the direction of your apartment. 

You just wouldn't eat dinner before going out tonight–not the end of the world.

But as you walked back to your building, you couldn't shake that gross feeling in your stomach. It was churning and twisting and at one point you were positive you were going to dart down an alley and throw up. 

You told yourself the reaction you were having was ridiculous. It's not as if Matt cheated–he had slept with that woman before he'd even known you. Years ago. And when she'd apparently propositioned him recently, the thought making you cringe, he'd turned her down. Which was good. That was not something to be upset about. 

And it's not like you didn't know Matt had a past. You'd sure as hell watched the flirting on the sidelines for the year you'd been pining for him. Foggy sure as shit had made enough comments about Matt ever since you'd known them about how Matt had been a huge flirt since his college days. Hell, you only had to look at Matt to know he attracted attention. 

It's not like you didn't have a past, either. Matt sure wasn't your first relationship or the first person you'd ever slept with. Sure, the number difference between the two of you was probably vast and you'd never had the nerve–or maybe it was also the lack of charm–to have one night stands, but you had a past, too. So it shouldn't even matter.

Though none of that logic remotely quelled the jealous and insecure beast rearing its head inside of you. Because knowing all of that didn't change the fact that you'd just had to see one of the women Matt had slept with and then hear her talk about just how great in bed he was. Your Matt. The one who held your hand and would walk you home from Josie’s, or who clung half-naked to you on an almost nightly basis. The one who you had been slowly stepping out of your comfort zone with, who made you feel safe and secure. 

As you entered your apartment building, you wondered just how you were supposed to go out to Josie’s tonight and look Matt in the face without picturing him between that woman's legs. Without thinking about that beautiful mouth–the same one you'd spent so long dreaming about kissing and now actually being able to kiss whenever you wanted for the past few months–kissing her .

You rubbed the heel of your hand over your eyes again, wiping the dampness away.

No, this was stupid. You weren't going to think about that. You loved Matt and you were happy for him and you wanted to go out and celebrate him and your friends' success. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you made your way into the elevator. As you waited for it to ascend to your floor, you told yourself you'd stop thinking about it. 

…but you did often find yourself worrying lately that you weren't enough for Matt. He had slept around a lot before you came into the picture, clearly he had never been satisfied with just one woman. So what made you think Matt was really going to be content to just settle for you? You weren't like those confident women he always went for, which certainly translated in the bedroom. You weren't as timid with him as you used to be, but you were sure he never had to reassure those other women he had slept with. Was it just something different for him, sleeping with the shy, awkward chick? Getting you to let loose and then eventually losing interest in you when you weren't as nervous?

Your heart ached at the thought, your chest feeling like it was constricting as you unlocked your apartment door. 

No, Matt wouldn't do that. 

…but maybe it wasn't intentional. Maybe he didn't realize that's why he'd been drawn to you in the first place and when you were no longer so damn nervous and timid in the bedroom he wouldn't find you as appealing. Maybe he'd go back to the confident women he was always getting hit on by. Or maybe he'd find another awkward woman.

You were crying by the time you locked your door behind you, tears steadily streaming down your face as your mind continued to spiral. You couldn't make the thoughts and fears stop once they'd started coming. There was no way you could go out to Josie’s tonight, not like this. You'd ruin everyone's night. 

Rushing forward you flung yourself on your couch, burying your face in the cushions and crying. Your mind kept telling you this was ridiculous, that you were drastically overreacting to what had happened, but then it would moments later throw wave after wave of insecurity at you. You almost hadn’t heard your phone ringing with how hard you’d been crying into your couch cushions.

Sniffling and trying to control your sobs, your head rose from the cushions. You noted the obvious darkened and damp spot your tears had created on the gray fabric before your attention shifted to your ringtone loudly cutting through the silence in your apartment. Sliding your phone out of your dress pants pocket, you glanced down at the screen. You were grateful that it was Karen’s name you saw instead of Matt’s; you didn’t think you could manage a conversation with him right now. Clearing your throat, you tried to will the tears to stop.

“Hey Karen,” you nervously greeted, your voice cracking ever so faintly.

“Hey!” she greeted back excitedly. “Just calling to let you know I’m on my way to Josie’s, but Matt is finishing something up at the office for a minute. Foggy went to stop by Marci’s work and grab her before they headed over. Just didn’t want you to be alone wondering where everyone is at.”

“Oh, uh,” you answered hesitantly, the lie coming out of you before you knew what was happening, “I have a lead I need to follow up with tonight. For a–a story.” You hoped she didn’t catch the way your voice had broken as you spoke.

“Oh, I…thought Matt said you were coming out?” she said slowly. 

You heard the phone shift as Karen called back to Matt, who was most likely in his office. A moment later there was more shifting before you heard Matt on Karen’s phone.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Matt began, your eyes closing and fighting down another surge of tears, “I thought you were coming out to celebrate with us? Did something happen?”

“No,” you answered, voice barely audible. Clearing your throat again, you tried to sound normal. “Something just–just came up at the last minute. I need to–to follow a lead. For a story. I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll make it.”

Fuck, you felt like a huge asshole, especially with the dejected sigh you heard over the line.

“Oh, okay,” he said slowly. “I’ll stop by after Josie’s then? I won’t stay late.”

“No!” you answered quickly, cringing when you did. “No, you just celebrate with your friends. Have fun, okay? I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later.”

You had to hang up, tears already starting to pour back down your cheeks again. You were a monumental asshole lying to Matt like that. A shitty girlfriend for not going out and celebrating a huge win for him and a shitty friend for not celebrating your friends. 

It was better off this way, though. You would certainly bring everyone down tonight if you came out. There’s no way you wouldn’t break down at just the sight of Matt, thinking about all those other women he slept with. Thinking about how you’d never be good enough. How you’d just plain never be enough for him.

No. You needed the night in to cry out your insecurities and get your head on straight before you saw him again. You wouldn’t ruin everyone’s night, just your own. 

Pulling yourself up off of the couch, still softly sobbing like a pathetic mess, you made your way to your bedroom. You changed quickly into a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a large, comfortable shirt before turning your phone on vibrate and tossing it onto your nightstand. Then you proceeded to draw back the sheets of your bed, forgoing dinner and everything else as you buried your face in your pillow and cried.

_______

Something was buzzing near your head and you groaned, rolling over on the mattress. You had a killer headache and as you opened your eyes to the darkened room, you realized your eyes were burning, too. 

From crying yourself pathetically to sleep, you remembered a moment later. Another groan left you as all of your stupid thoughts came rushing to the surface now that you were conscious again. 

Realizing your phone was vibrating on your nightstand, you threw a hand out and grabbed it. It was barely ten at night, you’d passed out in your bed for a couple of hours apparently. 

And of course it was Matt that was calling you. That insecure feeling swirled and twisted uncomfortably in your stomach at the sight of his name on the screen. With a sigh, you answered the call, pulling the phone up to your ear.

“Matt?” you asked, voice a little thick with sleep. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah,” he answered briskly. “Why were you lying to me?”

Your eyes narrowed at his question. How did he know?

“What?” you asked him.

“You sounded off but I tried to ignore it,” he explained quickly. “Figured you were busy and distracted. So I went out to Josie’s, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So I thought I’d stop by and see if you were back from following your lead–but you’re asleep. I’ve been knocking on your door for the past five minutes. Did you even have work?”

Biting your lip, you knew you couldn’t lie. He was outside your front door after all, he’d certainly be able to hear your heartbeat.

“No,” you whispered.

There was a sharp exhale from Matt over the line before his tone softened into something timid. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked next.

“No,” you answered quickly. “No, you didn’t.”

There was a long pause, one that only grew that uncomfortable feeling in your gut. You felt nauseous waiting for Matt to respond, your palm sweating against the phone.

“You know I can hear your heart, right?" he told you. "That wasn’t entirely true." He paused a moment as your brows furrowed. "What did I do wrong, sweetheart?" he asked nervously. 

"Matt, you didn't do anything," you answered firmly.

Throwing your sheets off of you, you climbed out of your bed and headed down the hall. He was silent on the line as you moved, probably more focused on you making your way through your apartment towards the front door.

Quickly unlocking it, you swung it open to reveal Matt before you. His glasses were hiding his eyes but you could see the downturn of his mouth. You both lowered the phone from your ears, hanging up. Stepping aside, you let Matt into your apartment. You really felt like you were going to be sick now with him standing in front of you and closing the door behind himself.

"Why did you lie?" he asked, his cane gripped tighter in his hands as he gazed down at you. "What happened? Why did you–"

He abruptly paused mid-sentence, head tilting to the side. Your own head cocked to the side, wondering what had interrupted him. As you watched him, you saw his hands grip the cane even tighter, his lips pressing firmly together like he was fighting something down. His head shifted back towards you, his expression still partially hidden behind the glasses.

"Sweetheart, why were you crying?" he asked slowly. 

You blinked hard a few times. How the fuck could he know that?

"I can taste it in the air," he answered as if he could read your mind. "Tell me the truth, what happened? What did I do?" 

"I told you, you didn't do anything," you answered, voice wavering. You could feel the tears starting again.

Matt raised a hand and pulled his glasses off his face. The sight of him only had your tears spilling back out of your eyes. He looked so pained . His bottom lip was starting to tremble as he gazed down at you, his own eyes beginning to glisten with tears. 

"Talk to me," he begged. "Please."

"It's–it's stupid," you muttered.

Matt shook his head roughly, taking a step towards you. "No it's not. You're clearly upset," he said.

"I–" you broke off before you even began.

What the hell were you supposed to tell him? That you couldn't stop mentally picturing him with other women? That you felt less than? That you were afraid he was going to break your heart and leave you?

"Hey," he said, tentatively brushing his fingers along your shoulder almost as if he was too afraid to touch you. "Don't get lost in your head. Talk to me. You can always talk to me."

Wiping your hands across your eyes, you turned, making your way to your couch and sitting down. Matt hesitated a moment before he followed, leaving a bit of space between the two of you that you most certainly noticed.

"Are you–" he began nervously, clearing his throat and glancing down at his fidgeting hands, "–thinking about ending…things?"

Your eyes went wide, jaw dropping at his question. "No!" you shot out. "No, that's not it." 

He glanced back up at you, his expression still tortured, his own eyes still watering. "Then what?" he asked.

You grimaced, your gaze dropping down to your lap, hands twisting the fabric of your sweatpants. "I was planning to grab something to eat before meeting you all at Josie’s," you mumbled. "And there were these two women in front of me, and one of them recognized you from that picture in the article."

You swallowed hard, recalling what she'd said. Those mental images fought to resurface with him sitting beside you and your eyes snapped shut. 

"Recognized me?" he prompted.

"From when you…slept with her," you whispered. 

Matt shifted on the couch, moving more towards you. "Sweetheart, I didn't–"

You shook your head quickly, cutting him off. "No, I know. She meant a while ago. Before we even knew each other. But I had to listen to her talk about how great in bed you were," you said with a cringe. "How she tried to sleep with you again the other week. And when she said that you had told her you were with someone, she made a comment that you'd–you'd never be satisfied with one person."

"What?" he asked, brows creasing together.

"And I knew it was stupid, and I tried to leave and forget about that even happening," you continued, a few tears still sliding down your cheeks, "but I couldn't stop picturing you with her. And then I was thinking about what she said, and I worry that she's right. That you won't be satisfied with me." Your voice picked up speed as you began blurting your fears out. "That you'll get bored of me. Or that you'll miss sleeping with someone new whenever you want. Or that you'll get tired of having to reassure me–in and out of the bedroom. Or maybe I won't be as timid in the bedroom and I'll lose whatever novelty I had for you and–"

"Stop," Matt said, firmly cutting you off. "Just stop, sweetheart. Take a breath."

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, your hands twisting the fabric of your sweatpants even faster between your fingers. 

"I'm sorry you had to overhear that," he began after a moment. "I certainly wouldn't have wanted to hear someone talk like that about you, either. But sweetheart, I love you. You're not some novelty. You're not boring. And you are more than enough." 

His hands reached out, grabbing your shoulders in a tight grip. You glanced up at him, taking in the earnest expression on his face as his eyes fixed along your left cheek. 

"I slept around because I was lonely and young and I liked the attention," he admitted. "But ever since you've been in my life, especially as my girlfriend, I have been far from lonely. I don't want anyone else. I just want you." One of his hands reached up, cupping your cheek gently. "I love you. I've told you before but I'll say it again–I have wanted you since the night your friend who's far too interested in my ass told me to buy you a drink at Josie’s. Please believe me when I tell you that I don't want to lose you."

You swallowed hard, a light laugh falling out of you at his comment about Katy. Matt's thumb gently wiped the tears off of your cheek, the rough pad stroking your skin. His words had soothed that jealous, insecure beast in your gut, but now you just felt guilty for letting those fears cloud your mind this evening.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "It was stupid, I told you it was stupid. And I should have come out but I didn't want to ruin everyone's night. I figured if I stayed in I could just wallow and maybe push it all down and tomorrow I’d be fine."

"Sweetie, don't push those feelings down," he urged. "Because that's when it comes out like this; you shove it down and then push me away instead of just talking to me."

"I'm sorry," you whispered again, shame burning in you now. "I shouldn't have. My mind just started spiraling and I couldn’t make it stop."

Matt's hands pulled you in towards him, wrapping you in his strong arms. Immediately you buried your face in his dress shirt, eyes closing as you inhaled the comforting scent of him. Your own arms hesitantly wrapped themselves around Matt’s waist in return.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night, Matt,” you apologized again into his shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t come out and that I lied and–”

“Shh,” he shushed you, one of his hands stroking down your hair. “Stop apologizing. Just next time something like this starts growing in your mind, tell me. Please?”

You nodded against him, the tears finally stopping. Shifting above you, you felt him slowly draw you away from his chest, both of his hands coming up to hold your face gingerly in his large palms, tilting it up towards his. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes creased at the corners and filled with so much affection that you felt even more stupid for your earlier thoughts. 

“I don’t regret buying you that drink at Josie’s,” he murmured. His forehead lowered to yours, his gaze almost meeting your own. “There’s not a number far enough away from one, remember?”

Your smile grew at the little saying you’d both steadily picked up over the past few weeks about how neither of you regretted that situation Katy had practically forced on the pair of you.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back.

Closing the distance, he brought his soft lips to yours. He kissed you with so much feeling in the way his mouth moved, it was as if he wanted you to never question his love for you again. Your hands that were still on his back gripped his dress shirt tight and pulled him in further towards you, closing that little distance there had been between you on the couch. His hands still held your face firmly to his, even as he gradually and almost reluctantly broke away from your mouth. He rested his forehead against yours, a small smile on his lips.

“Did you eat dinner yet?” you asked.

He huffed out a laugh, lightly shaking his head against yours. “That is definitely not what I thought you were going to say,” he told you. “But no.”

You grinned, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I can’t celebrate with Foggy and Karen, but I can try to make it up to you. I’ll order us dinner and we can celebrate here,” you offered.

Matt straightened beside you, that smile growing on his mouth. "I'd like that," he replied. "But only if I get to reassure you after dinner one more time." He shot you a wink that had you giggling. "Or maybe two more times."

Still laughing lightly, you slid a hand out from behind his back and grabbed Matt by the back of his neck, drawing him into you for another kiss. His own hands quickly dropped to your hips, pulling you onto his lap and causing you to quickly catch your balance, both legs now straddling his lap.

"And maybe–" he mumbled against your mouth between a kiss, "–one time–" his mouth landed back on yours, "–before dinner."

[familyvideostevie]

Hey hey! Can I request number 19 with steve please?? thanks <3

hi! you sure can! the prompt for this one was personal gifts. here's that -- a small, sweet pre-relationship moment with steve. i hope you like it! __

Steve's car smells like teenagers, like Will's paints and Dustin's latest gum flavor and El's gentle perfume. You pop open the glove box and retrieve the small tube of your lotion that Steve keeps for you, putting just a little on your knuckles so the car smells like you, too.

"Thanks for picking me up," you say. Steve hums. He's taking you to the library to grab your newest stack of loans. You could very easily take the bus, or walk, even, but Steve has told you a million times the he likes to drive you.

"Did you bring you returns?" he asks. You nod. Time alone for the two of you is hard to get -- there are kids to be dropped off and jobs to work and errands to run. But you soak up every second you can get with Steve because, well. Because he makes your somatic flutter and your heart pound and you love it.

"How was work?" you ask and fiddle with the radio.

Steve looks over at you. You want to brush the hair out of his face. "The usual," he says. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "I think next week we'll have Say Anything back, if you still want to watch it."

You grab his shoulder. He's warm through his jacket. "Really? We'll have to have a movie night." You mentally scan your own work schedule for next week. "Can I invite Robin and Nancy? If you want to watch it, I mean."

"Why wouldn't I want to watch it with you?" he asks. His cheeks are a little pink. "If you want me there, I mean."

"I just said I did, didn't I?" More and more of your conversations end up like this -- hesitant reassurances, gentle admissions. Like you're both shy around each other all of a sudden.

Steve pulls into a parking spot in front of the library. "Before you get out, I, uh, I have something for you. Don't want to forget." He unbuckles and leans into your space so fast you swallow a gasp, but he's really just reaching behind your seat to grab something from the back.

It's a file folder. You take it from him gingerly, noting how eager he looks.

"What is this, Steve?" you ask. He runs a hand through his hair. He seems to be fighting a smile.

"Well, Jonathan developed his roll from the party last week? And he called and said he had some nice ones of uh, you. And us. So I asked him to print them." You open the folder and see what he's talking about right away. You remember posing for most of these, your features captured in black and white. One of you and Robin clinking your glasses, another of you with Nancy's head in your lap. You, both girls, and Eddie eating popcorn.

And then one of just you, smiling softly. Jonathan told you to think of something that made you happy for that one. The last photo in the folder is one of you and Steve, his arm slung around your shoulder. You're beaming at the camera, but Steve's face is in profile. He's looking at you, his grin soft and happy.

"These are great," you tell him. "Thank you for asking Jonathan to print them."

"I was going to get them framed, actually," Steve rambles. "But I wanted to give them to you first, see if you liked them. And then if you want we can stop by the store and get them measured and stuff--"

"Steve," you interrupt. "Do you have a copy of this?" You're looking at the one of both of you. He clears his throat.

"Yeah," he says. "I do."

"Good," you tell him. "We should frame yours, too. But after I get my books." He grins. You want to touch him. Maybe today you will.

[koffeesfancy]

The Tutor Ch. 1 | Letitia x Reader

Summary: You are a broke graduate student hustling through college when you unexpectedly land a job tutoring an actress in your native language—a language you've nearly forgotten. Instead of teaching, you find yourself becoming the student in this unexpected journey. As you fall in love for the first time, you begin to uncover profound truths about yourself and the world around you that you never knew existed.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance, fluff, slow-burn, comedy

Word Count: 2731

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! If anyone wants to be added to my taglist, the link is in the pinned post on my page Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @prettymrswright

To be fair, you would—and almost had—done just about anything for money. Seriously, your resume of odd jobs looked like a carnival sideshow gone wrong. Washing cars? Check. Bagging groceries? Double check. Babysitting? Let's just say those kids still have flashbacks. Braiding hair? Sure, if they wanted a lopsided mess. Writing reports for books you never read? CliffNotes are your best friend. Music lessons for instruments you didn’t play? “Fake it 'til you make it” was your anthem.

Most of these ventures ended in irate customers hurling strong words at you, and you narrowly dodging potential assault. But hey, $40 is $40. And right now, you needed a whole bunch of those $40s, like, yesterday.

You’d printed and shared so many fliers for so many different gigs that you were like a human Rubik's Cube, colorful but often hopelessly scrambled. By now, you had no idea what the person on the other side of the phone was even talking about.

"So, is there an office address for this service?" the woman on the other end of the line asked, her voice dripping with the enthusiasm of someone waiting at the DMV.

After a thoughtful pause that was less "thoughtful" and more "panicked rummaging through mental chaos," you carefully responded, "Yes, you can trust that I have preserved a location most appropriate for our..." you leaned forward as if to coax the words out of her.

"This is the foreign language tutor, correct?" she quipped. You bit your lip to contain your celebratory noises, fighting back the urge to scream, "Jackpot!"

"Oh yes, ma'am, that is me. Totally, so yep... I do lessons at the University library or I can travel—with reimbursement included, of course," you added, trying to sound as professional as a used car salesman handing off a lemon.

She hummed thoughtfully as you spoke. "That will be $40 an hour for the first four hours and $35 afterward when you buy multiple sessions at once."

"Oh really? That's great, the flier said $60. Are you free this Saturday?" You swallowed a profanity at the realization you’d lost out on some money and pushed through with the booking. Inside, you were both cursing your past self and doing a victory dance. A gig's a gig, after all.

So there you were, the jack-of-all-trades, master of none, and not above doing something strange for some change. Because in your world, $40 could buy a lot of things—like loud shoes to wear indoors for your neighbor that liked to poke at the ceiling with a broom when you coughed or enough of the fancy Belgian chocolate you liked to eat yourself into a small coma. A lot of things...

On Saturday, you ventured out to the more upscale part of town. It was the kind of place that looked like it had springed straight out of a magazine. Each building practically whispered, "My mortgage could feed a small country."

You'd been wired enough money for two classes a week for two months, plus bus fare, which was a small victory in your book. As you stepped off the bus and onto the manicured sidewalk, you couldn't help but feel a mix of bewilderment and bitterness at the sheer luxury around you.

Looking around, you saw freshly washed windows, pristine sidewalks, and not a single piece of trash in sight. A roofless sports car purred by, driven by a guy who looked like he'd never known a day of financial stress in his life.

"Must be tough being a professional trust fund manager," you muttered under your breath, eyeing the back of the vehicle.

An impeccably dressed woman with a tiny, overly groomed dog strolled past you. "Dog Instagram influencer, probably," you thought, rolling your eyes at the absurdity.

Further down the street, a couple emerged from a boutique, laughing as they juggled bags from what must’ve been high-end stores. "Ah yes, professional yoga mat testers," you mused sarcastically. "Or maybe artisanal kombucha consultants."

As you walked a few blocks deeper into the neighborhood, you approached the address sent to you for work. It was a huge historical brownstone that filled you with intimidation. You couldn't help but marvel at the ornate door and the brass knocker shaped like a lion's head. "Sure, why not? Lion-head knockers. Probably enough to pay off student loans for my entire graduating class," you snarked internally.

Ringing the doorbell, you waited, feeling like an imposter in your own shoes. The door opened to reveal a woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a lifestyle blog, all polished and perfect. She was of a medium height, but her long, toned legs made her seem modelesque. The woman was a dark brown color and had a chicly shaved head partially obscured by a multi print silk scarf. She wore an expensive looking linen short set and minimalistic gold jewelry.

“Welcome! You must be the tutor,” she greeted you warmly. “Come on in.” She waved her thin hands to gesture inside of her home, her dark pink lips widening to reveal a set of perfect white teeth. You feigned politeness while bitterly thinking to yourself about the iniquity of someone being both so rich and so attractive while people like you were left with flabby arms, hairy toe knuckles, and crippling debt. 

Stepping into the foyer, you tried not to gawk at the marble floors and grand staircase. "Just your average entryway," you thought wryly. "Nothing says ‘welcome’ like a ceramic bust."

You followed her to a spacious study, filled with leather-bound books and more mahogany than you thought existed in the world. Sitting down, you mentally prepared for your first lesson, hoping your makeshift knowledge of the language would hold up.

In the days leading up to this tutoring gig, you thought you were being proactive. After all, you couldn't just waltz into a foreign language lesson without a clue, could you? So, you did what any desperate person would do: WhatsApp video call your cringey cousin from back home.

Your cousin was the kind of guy who thinks he's fluent in English because he once binge-watched a season of "Friends" with subtitles on. His grasp of English and your grasp of your family’s native language was about as solid as a Jenga tower in a hurricane. But hey, beggars can't be choosers.

The conversation was a comedy of errors from the get-go. You tried to explain what you needed help with, but every sentence he uttered was a linguistic train wreck. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion, but with words.

"I need help. For teach… uh… English… speak person. You speak... uh... En-guh-lish, yes?" you attempted, your own language suffering under the weight of your desperation.

"Ah, English! Yes, yes! I know Eng-guh-lish!" he exclaimed triumphantly, his confidence only slightly overshadowed by the fact that he couldn't pronounce the word correctly.

What followed was a painful exchange of broken sentences, awkward pauses, and a lot of hand gestures that made you question whether you were communicating in semaphore or a spoken language.

By the time you hung up, you felt like you knew even less than before. If anything, you'd regressed linguistically. Welp, time to wing it, you thought grimly, resigning yourself to the fact that this tutoring job was going to be a wild ride. Who needs language proficiency when you have sheer determination and a healthy dose of delusion, right?

The woman fluttered around the study murmuring to herself until she retrieved a loose stack of papers from a bag. 

“A-ha!” she chimed, turning to wave the papers at you with that same smile. She sauntered over and to your surprise, sat right next to you on the leather sofa instead of across the coffee table at one of the matching armchairs.

Up close, you noticed she had the slightest dimple in the lower left corner of her mouth and eyes that naturally set low in an effortlessly sultry gaze. There was something very classic and timeless about her looks. Like perhaps you had seen lots of women like her in commercials or in those huge luxury clothing brand displays at Macy’s.  

She placed the papers on the table before turning and facing directly towards you, extending a thin, manicured hand. “Hi, I’m Letitia,” she spoke. Her voice was soft, a bit smokey, and had a bit of an encapsulating feel.

You shook her hand and formally introduced yourself as well. “I suppose you spoke with my manager Lashana on the phone about my goals. I have a casting audition in about 2 months and think having some exposure to the language beforehand could get me a leg up, y’know? Uh… these are just some things she sent for you to sign…” she said, running off into a murmur as she handed the stack of papers to you with a fountain pen. As she moved around you caught a whiff of her dark, woody perfume. It smelled more like an expensive men’s cologne. 

For a moment you scoured your brain for any information you knew about this Letitia. You thought you might have heard Lashana mention the actress thing on the phone, but that was while you were on your other $40 gig moonlighting as an expert dog groomer. She interrupted when you were braiding the neighbor’s poodle- Fifi’s cornrows required utmost concentration so Lashana's words went in one ear and out of the other.  

You signed the papers with a flourish, then handed them back to Letitia, raising an eyebrow as you joked, “So, what exactly did I just sign away? My soul? Firstborn child?”

To your surprise, Letitia burst into laughter, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. It caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but notice how her whole face lit up when she laughed. Her dimple deepened, and her eyes crinkled at the corners, giving her an adorable, almost childlike quality. At that moment, she seemed less like a polished actress and more like a regular person who didn't care about looking perfect.

“You're hilarious!” she said, still chuckling as she tucked the papers back into her bag. “I think this is going to be a lot more fun than I expected.”

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks at the compliment. “Thanks,” you said, trying to play it cool. “I aim to please.”

Letitia leaned back on the sofa, her gaze curious and open. “So, tell me about yourself. How did you end up doing... well, this?”

You shrugged, deciding to be honest. “Oh, you know, just trying to make a living. I’ve done a bit of everything. Today, I’m a language tutor. Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe I’ll be wrangling llamas at a petting zoo.”

She laughed again, a light, musical sound that made you smile. “I admire that,” she said. “It takes a lot of guts to do what you do.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly glamorous,” you replied, though you couldn’t help but feel a little humble amidst the fancy room. “But it keeps things interesting.”

Letitia nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. I’ve had my share of odd jobs too. Before acting, I was a waitress, a dog walker- I even dressed up as Minnie Mouse at kids’ parties once.”

You tried to imagine her in a pink polka dot dress with gloves and big, round ears, and the mental image made you laugh. “Now that I’d like to see.”

She grinned, a twinkle in her eye. “Maybe if you teach me this language, I’ll show you some of my old mouse tricks.”

“Deal,” you said, feeling more relaxed than you had all day. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

As you began the lesson, you realized that maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all. Letitia’s enthusiasm was infectious, and her genuine interest in getting to know you made you feel like, for once, you weren’t just a means to an end. Maybe this gig would be a turning point—something more than just another $40 in your pocket. 

The lesson flew by in a blur of laughter, stumbles over pronunciation, and unexpected moments of connection. Before you knew it, the clock was signaling the end of your session. Letitia gathered her things, still giggling over a joke you'd made about mispronouncing a word in a way that turned it into something hilariously inappropriate.

As she walked you to the door, both of you were still caught up in the infectious energy of the lesson. “I can’t believe we spent half the time laughing,” Letitia said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Next time I’ll have to invoice you my rate for standup as well,” you replied, grinning. 

Both of you stopped, laughter trailing off as you locked eyes, the air thick with an unspoken connection. You extended your hand for a handshake just as Letitia leaned in for a hug, and your misplaced hand awkwardly jabbed her ribs. As she toppled forward, her pillowy lips connected with your forehead in a soft, accidental kiss that sent shivers down your spine.

Time seemed to stand still. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in that moment. Her eyes widened in surprise, the rich depths of her gaze reflecting your own astonishment. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something more profound, something that made your heart race wildly in your chest.

Her breath, soft and warm, lingered against your skin, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away. The delicate scent of her woody perfume enveloped you, creating an intoxicating haze that made you dizzy with longing. Her nearness, the accidental intimacy, sent a thrill through you, a sensation both terrifying and exhilarating.

The spell was broken by the sudden roar of a fast car zooming by outside, yanking both of you back to the present. The world rushed back in, loud and intrusive, yet you remained rooted in that brief, unforgettable moment.

Letitia pulled back slightly, her own cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. She laughed nervously, a melodic sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she stammered, her voice a soft murmur of embarrassment and amusement.

“No, no, it’s fine!” you stuttered as she also spoke some unintelligible babble, the awkwardness dissipating into a shared chuckle. “That was... unexpected,” Letitia added, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Yeah, totally,” you agreed, trying to steady your racing heart. “Guess we need to work on our goodbye coordination as well.”

“Absolutely,” she smiled, a dazzling expression that made your knees weak. As she opened the door, the moment lingered in the air between you, a fragile, beautiful thing.

“Thanks again for today. I’m really looking forward to our next lesson,” she said softly, her voice like a caress.

“Me too,” you replied, your cracking voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding. “See you next time!”

As you walked away, the memory of her accidental kiss lingered, a tender echo that made your pulse quicken and your thoughts spin. It was a moment you knew you would replay over and over, a small, perfect touch that left you breathless with anticipation for something- anything.

You mindlessly followed the sidewalk, feeling a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. As you boarded the bus, you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. Your heart was racing, and every time you closed your eyes, you could see Letitia’s face, the surprise and humor in her eyes.

You tried to distract yourself with phone games, but your fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. Before you knew it, you were googling Letitia’s name, falling down a rabbit hole of biographies, interviews, and reviews of her films. Each article and video only added to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your head.

Engrossed in reading about her, you completely missed your stop. When you finally looked up and realized how far you’d gone, you cursed under your breath, quickly pressing the button to signal the next stop.

As you walked the extra blocks home, you couldn’t shake the mixture of embarrassment and excitement from your mind. The day had taken a completely unexpected turn, and you knew it was going to be all you could think about until your next lesson with Letitia.

[yippeeometer]

itty bitty little northeast hcs bc the asks r dry :(((

they are NOT fun cool life of the party they are SAD GAY LOSERS i do feel this should be broadcast on national tv to confirm the canonness.

that being said. one family dinner with them is actually illegal under the geneva convention due to high level of mental torture.

things start off lovely. they go to maine's little cabin-in-the-woods (STEPHEN KING MY FRIENDS, ITS NOT COTTAGE VIBES!). he will make you wait outside if you are late. he locks the doors and laughs.

unfortuantely, they will not be within five feet of each other during baseball season, under a rule so important gov considers adding it to the constitution.

it is like a grandpa convention lets not lie to ourselves bc there's definitely a part in the night where they just reminisce about the war and vermont will show up with printed-out pictures of some battle monument model he made bc even maine's terrible signal wont stop him.

they have to get new york there by physical force, bc he is doing his level best to sneak his way out. sorry its shabbat (it's actually a tuesday). sorry lost my voice can't come (he's only over said 10 words max). sorry been hit by a car (typa guy to genuinely try and walk off a broken leg).

they have to battle not to bring up politics ooohhh because you know mass's eye is twitching at the thought of being able to debate. connecticut threatens to report him to the authorities as a communist threat. he threatens to throw him through the wall. this is normal sibling behaviour.

typa emotional repression where they'll just be arguing and bickering as normal when one of them will drop the most gut-wrenching sickening personal lore and they all will just refuse to mention it.

oooooohhh yk its got a kick to it when ur sat across from someone who literally took bllets for you telling you ab how life is collapsing around them. anyways new hammy made a salad w craisins and we better switch the topic to that.

speaking of. half of the food is completely inedible. rhode island spent so many years a pirate he has no idea how much salt is too much salt. you CAN eat delaware's food but also be aware he's known for chemical manufacturing so its a 50/50 chance you'll make it.

jersey and york, arguably the only two good cooks, are not allowed to bring food bc they unfortunately suffer from chronic cant-understand-our-families-r-from-different-italian-regions-and-food-might-be-different syndrome.

for some inexplicable reason PA becomes group DJ. the only songs on his phone are 'brand new city' by mitski and 'dont stop the party' by pitbull.

[lazycats-stuff]

The New Heir - Chapter 9

Alright everyone, lets hurt Elias a little bit more. As always, feedback is nice.

Warnings: angst and fluff, mentions of panic attacks... Hurt and comfort maybe...

Word count: 1.8k

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Bruce was sitting in front of the computer in the Batcave, rubbing his forehead, refusing to look at the screen. The test he made to prove that Ra's is Elias' father came back positive.

99,9% match.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his face. How the hell is he going to break this to Elias? A huge chance is that Elias will get a bad panic attack and get worse when it comes to his mental health. Elias could spiral and that would be even worse. But, there is also a chance that if he doesn't tell Elias, he will be pissed at Bruce and the others.

Bruce said and looked down at the printed out results. Thankfully, Ra's wasn't pushy with telling Elias anything. It's been a week since the gala and Bruce was working up the courage to tell his soon to be son that Ra's is his biological father.

A mass murderer and one of the best assassins in the world. An eco terrorist too.

Ra's and Bruce have stayed in contact and Bruce told Ra's he would Elias today. Now he just needs some courage. Sure, it sounds odd that Bruce Wayne, aka Batman needs courage, but this was different. In a way, this could break Elias.

And that won't be a good thing at all. But he had to tell him. He had to tell him.

He told Damian to take him to the living room and just hangout there. The others were there too and it wasn't going to be pretty by any means. If Elias passes out, it won't be good. And yet again, he has a right to know. And besides, Ra's can help with looking for his mom...

But that wouldn't come without something in return. And Bruce has a feeling that it had something to do with Elias. He really didn't want to think about what would Ra's want in return. Ra's did say he wouldn't be forcing Elias to meet with him, but he could if he were to help...

Bruce sighed yet again. He had to man up and just tell Elias and pray he wasn't going to pass out from the severity from the news. Or get a panic attack from it.

Bruce quickly left the Batcave and quickly went to the living room, paper folded in his right hand. He heard some chatter and saw Elias on the couch, bundled up in a blanket with some tea in his hands. Bruce noted forest fruit scent it was a nice way to start this evening. Bruce knew that online classes were a great idea.

Elias is studious young boy and he had no worries about Elias focusing on school. Sure, it isn't easy to focus when your mom is missing, but Elias was making it work. Alfred made sure that Elias takes his breaks, eats and drinks enough water.

Elias was leaning on Damian as he was drinking his tea. He looked a bit tired, but still good none the less. And Bruce was going to wreck this peace with this piece of paper and with the results on the same paper.

He sat down and everyone got quiet and everyone could feel that something is off. The four sons know exactly what is going to happen and Elias has no idea what is going to happen. His life would be turned on its head and he will thrown into a whole lot more chaos than he ever wished for.

" I have some news for you Elias. " Bruce said as he sat across from his boys in the arm chair.

" What is it? " Elias asked, still leaning on Damian's shoulders.

" After the gala, Ra's and Talia stayed after the gala to talk. It was about you. " Bruce said as he glanced down at the paper in his hands.

Elias tensed up and just sighed. " What about me? "

" Elias... Well, he implied that he might be your father. " Bruce said and glanced back up at Elias, who looked back in Bruce in both shock and fear.

" What is that supposed to mean? " Elias asked and everyone looked at Bruce.

" It means that he was with your mother. He seemed to love her very much. She seemed to hold an important place in his heart. And I did a DNA test to see if you are his son and Talia's brother. " Bruce said and handed Elias the paper.

" And you are. Ra's al Ghul is your father and Talia is your sister. " Bruce said as he watched Elias unfolding the paper. His eyes widened and his hands shook, dropping the paper in pure shock. Bruce watched him intently, trying to see if he was having a panic attack. Dick moved away the tea from the coffee table so Elias doesn't tip the cup over.

Jason stood up and moved to get some cold water instead of hot tea and Tim moved closer to Elias, to comfort him if necessary.

" This is a mistake Bruce. " Elias said shakily and Bruce saw tears in his eyes.

" I did it 10 times to be sure. It's not a mistake. " Bruce said as he moved closer to Elias too.

All eyes were on Elias, wondering what is going to happen.

Elias just sat there as he looked at the paper.

His world is burning. His world is in shambles. His mom, was an assassin... His beloved uncle Aseel was one too probably...

He swallowed hard as he felt his tears well up with tears. He tried to keep himself together, but it was difficult. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin and then die... Elias took a shaky breath and everyone moved so he didn't feel suffocated and could try to breathe properly.

His hands shook as he took the paper back into his hands and he quicky wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He can't cry now... Sure, his world may be in shambles... May burn right now, but...

How does he even respond to this?

" Wh- " (Y/N) pauses to swallow and breathe. " What now? " Elias asks Bruce as he wipes his eyes again, refusing the tears to fall down.

Bruce watched Elias and was really impressed at how Elias was taking this. He wasn't having a panic attack. Not yet at least.

" I will let Ra's know you know the biological connection. "

" Don't force me to meet him. " Elias said, eyes wide with panic and fear. He doesn't want to even think of Ra's, let alone see him.

" No, no. " Bruce said and moved closer to Elias. He knelt down to be at Elias' level and grabbed his shoulders. " Look at me Eli. " Bruce said quietly and Elias looked at Bruce, eyes watery.

" You won't meet him unless you want to. Ra's only wanted you to know and that's all. " Bruce soothed and Elias wiped his tears.

Then, Bruce brought Elias into a hug, holding him by the back of his neck and positioned Elias to hide his face into his chest, allowing him to break down. Jason finally came back with some water and watched the scene.

" You guys can leave us alone, okay? " Bruce said to his sons and the four left, some more hesitant than the others, but they left.

Now it was Bruce and Elias, who was on the verge of a panic attack.

" Hey, relax. You won't see him if you don't want to. " Bruce said firmly and Elias tried to calm down.

" Are you sure? " Elias whispered, hugging Bruce back tightly.

" Yes. Talia and Ra's won't come near you unless you want them to come. " Bruce explained to Elias. If that meant that he would have to fight the two then so be it.

Elias' safety and security is important and if that meant fighting... Then so be it.

" You mean it? " Elias asked quietly and Bruce nodded.

" Every word of it. And Ra's promised to wait too, so there is no need to worry. "

Elias just nodded and sighed. " This is... All of this is nuts. "

" I agree, but you are strong and you have me and the boys. You aren't alone in this. " Bruce said and watched as Elias moved his head back, now fully looking at Bruce.

Bruce softly wiped the tears off and smiled softly. " You are not alone. Now, please drink some water and try to relax. " Bruce said and watched as Elias sipped on some of the water that he got.

Bruce watched him like a hawk, trying to see if he was going to have a panic attack. The worst may have past, but you never know with panic.

It can pop up in mere seconds.

Elias put the glass down and wiped his eyes again. " I hate feeling so weak. "

" It's normal to feel weak, but you can't stay weak can you? " Bruce said quietly and Elias nodded.

You can feel weak, but you can't stay weak. You have to stay strong in this world, no matter what.

" Would I betray Damian if I decide to meet up with Talia and Ra's? " Elias asked quietly.

While Ra's may be a monster, an assassin and what not, he is his father... The part that he has always wanted to meet... To know where his Arabic side came from...

" Well... Talk to Damian about first. Wanting to meet your father is nothing wrong, it's completely normal to meet your father that you have never meet. Just talk to Damian first okay? " Bruce said and smiled softly. " Talk to him tomorrow, when everything is sort of where it's supposed to be and see what you are going to do. "

" But won't this be a betrayal for you too? " Elias asked and Bruce knew it was one good question.

" You could see it that way, but I'm telling you I won't be mad if you do. It's normal. "

" Oh God, I hate life right now. "

Bruce chuckled and patted Elias' back softly. " I feel you. Now, lets get you to your room and lets get you some sleep. " Bruce said and stood up from his position and then gently led Elias to his room. Elias followed, tired from the all emotional turmoil he went through tonight.

" Come on, lets tuck you in. " Bruce said as he helped Elias to bed.

Elias allowed himself to be tucked in by Bruce. Bruce made sure that Elias was warm in his bed.

" Good night Elias, sleep well. " Bruce said, turning the lights off.

" Night Bruce. " Elias whispered and closed his eyes.

He heard the door closing and the footsteps in the hall. Elias took a deep breath and started relaxing. He needs his sleep in order to deal with this father thing.

And he needs energy to think about Ra's being his father... And the potential meeting... Oh dear God, none of this will end well.

[syntax6]

Some Truest Truths about Publishing

Being a published author is a lifelong dream of mine, and many aspects of it are indeed awesome. I love telling stories and sharing them with the world. Seeing my books in a bookstore or a library will always be thrilling! Meeting new readers from all over the globe is huge fun. But there have been a bunch of “being a published author is bad for your mental health” threads lately, and I think part of why this is true is that people don’t understand how the industry works before they get into it. So, here are some things about how publishing functions that I did not know before I became part of the machine:

1. You can know your book’s likely trajectory at the time you sign the contract. The publisher decides how well your book will sell. Large publishers sell more books than mid-sized publishers, which sell more books than small- or micro-publishers. A large publisher doing minimal publicity for your book will probably still sell more copies of it than a small publisher, simply because they already have the machinery in place. But, if your large publisher does not offer you a large advance at the time of signing, they are not going to do much more than their basic-level publicity for your book. They are going to focus their efforts on books they paid a lot of money to acquire because they want to get that money back. So, if your large publisher is not offering you at least a quarter of a million dollars to acquire your book, they aren’t going to be gunning to make it a NY Times Bestseller.

2. Books are a hit-driven industry. Most books lose money so everyone is counting on the few bestsellers to finance the whole industry. This is why big names like Stephen King or Danielle Steele suck up huge amounts of the publicity budget. Publishers need their books to sell sell sell, which means reaching fans who only buy Stephen King and Danielle Steele books. These fans aren’t paying a lot of attention, so publishers need to get that “GO BUY NOW” bat signal into the sky to wake up these fans. They pull out all the advertising stops. This is why big-name authors eat up so much of the publicity budget despite being household names. Publishers need to reach those fans for each new book to ensure the book makes the $$$$ that the publishers are counting on.

3. Everyone who is in the industry is riding the same train. So when the large publishers decide which books to push (because they have paid a lot to acquire them and/or the author is already a household name), booksellers and librarians have to get on board too. Yes, librarians and independent booksellers can also promote smaller titles that they really love, and that’s GREAT, but they mostly have to march to the tune set by the large publishers. Bookstores are usually operating at razor-thin margins. They need to sell the books that people want to read. Which books do people want to read? The ones they have heard of! How did they hear about them? The big publishers spent the $ to advertise! See how it’s all connected? Libraries, too. They need to stock the titles that will rotate well; books people want to check out and read. Which ones will they stock? The ones that the large publishers are pushing, because these are the titles that people will ask for.

4. Almost nothing good happens to your book without your publisher paying for it. Often, even things that look like awards or editorial decisions involve money changing hands.

5. Because of points 1-4, the author can do very little to influence the sale of their book. Giants like Amazon or Barnes and Noble already know which books are going to be the lead titles because the publishers told them so. Outlets like the NYT know too. Libraries, indie bookstores...they all know the signs of big publisher investment. For example, if the publisher says they are going to print 250,000 copies of your book, then everyone knows the title is going to be pushed HARD. If they say they are publishing 10,000 copies, then the author has no hope of competing with the lead title. So, the author can’t, on their own, do anything to change the fate of their book. However, the author is held accountable when their book doesn’t sell, despite the fact that everyone in the industry does understand that publishers sell books, not authors.

6. Because of points 1-4, how well a book is written or how talented the author is has not much to do with how many copies the book sells. Often bestsellers are really great and the authors are extremely hardworking...but not always. And there are zillions of hugely talented, diligent authors whose books don’t sell well at all because a large publisher has never shone that kind of spotlight on them. To exist in an industry where talent and hard work don’t influence the results is maddening, and a big part of why authors go a little insane.

[sidthedollface2]

Third Love

Ch: 2 La Maceta

Pairing: Eddie x Mexican Female Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Eddie tries to win over your affection and use you in hopes of getting signed to your dads record company. There's just one problem. Your situationship and a heartbreaking past that threatens to expose the darker side of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ Nightmares, mental illness, Modern au Eddie, fuckboy Eddie. Reader with another man (not cheating).

Chapter 1

You had another restless night, sleep didn't come for you till around 5 am, an hour before sunrise wasn't too bad. Usually you'd stay at Sebastians house or your Dads lavish property, but that home was too large. Glass windows from floor to ceiling. Tall trees and bushes hide the expanse of the lot, it made you uncomfortable since it resembled your old home so much. After a particularly rough panic attack, and the incident with the pool man you and your dad agreed that maybe living with a roommate would lessen the episodes. Luckily, you had found an apartment with a pretty cool roommate, she was similar to you in loving horror movies and video games, and often her boyfriend would spend the night. Last night wasn't one of them, instead you made a comfy spot on the couch and spent most of the time watching 90 Day Fiance and arguing with the TV.

The familiar ding of your phone has you rubbing the sleep from your eyes, arm stretched out blindly searching the top of the coffee table. Unlocking the screen with your thumb print, a new text message comes into view.

Unknown: In the car, I just can't wait, To pick you up on our very first date.

Brows pinched in confusion, and a small smile gracing your face. You think It must be a wrong number. You stare at the message sinking back into the soft cushions of the couch. It's gotta be a joke you think, so you play along, having seen these types of messages before and being immersed in music your whole life you're familiar with the lyrics.

You: Is it cool if I hold your hand?

Shortly after pressing send another ding comes through.

Unknown: Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance? Do you like my stupid hair?

A chuckle leaves your lips and you feel bad for stringing this person along but you continue anyway, enjoying the flirty nature of the messages.

You: would you guess that I didn't know what to wear?

You feel terrible engaging in this cute sharade. Being a hopeless romantic the idea of someone purposely sending you these messages has you kicking your feet. But you know these messages aren't for you, as you place the phone down again another ding comes through.

Unknown: I'm just scared of what you think.

You smile to yourself at the absurdity but one last message won't hurt.

You: you make me nervous so I really can't eat.

Deciding to end the conversation you text back apologizing for wasting their time and let them know they have the wrong number. You see they've read your message and so you set your phone down and walk to your bedroom gathering some clothes from the closet, when you hear another ding.

You quickly turn back to the living room. throw yourself onto the couch, lunging for your phone in anticipation at what was sent and shock is written all over your face as you read the message.

Unknown: "Let's go. Don't wait. This night's almost over."

You Scroll back up and make sure that your previous message was sent and read. It was. You immediately panic, it wasn't like you to make plans and forget, especially a date. You did a lot of networking last night but you made sure every contact had a name and their social media attached so you really had no clue who would be asking you out. Unable to form any more thoughts on the matter you turn off your phone and head for the shower.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fuck! She left me on read." Eddie complained to Gareth as they both sat sprawled out on the couch in the garage,finishing up band practice for an upcoming show.

"How do you date a latina anyway?" Grant inquired, wiping the sweat from his brow and placing his bass down. Eddie turned to his bandmate, eyebrows quirked in a questioning way. "Um. Like any other girl. Man, what is wrong with you?" Eddie huffed, looking at his phone again hoping you'd message him back soon, and that he didn't just blow it with you. "It doesn't matter anyway, Ed just wants to fuck his way to the top. No dating required, isn't that what you said Ed? Gareth stared at his friend, challenging the words he had spoken earlier, before he actually met you or saw you, or felt the way your hand barely touched his sent bolts of electricity through his entire body. Eddie's eyes narrowed at Gareth. "Yea. That's right."

The way Gareth laid it out sounded bad and Eddie knew it, he wanted to do things the right way but he'd already tried that, and he had Becky to thank for ruining morally 'good' Eddie. This Eddie was different, he was more determined than ever in reaching his dreams irregardless of who was in his way or who he'd hurt in the process.

"It's a terrible idea." Standing with his arms crossed Jeff glared at Eddie, ashamed that their frontman even considered such a thing. With his head hanging between his shoulders Eddies eyes met Jeffs and he sighed, running his palm down his face, he shook his head.

"Look, I'm doing it for the band, ok. She could really help us out and get us actual good hook ups. What the fuck have you done Jeff? I'm the one who's been pulling all the weight!"

"You're the reason we're in this mess, you fucked Becky, our manager by the way, and now you wanna fuck this one! Next you're gonna fuck us over!" Jeff scolded, standing toe to toe with Eddie challenging his decisions. Gareth and Grant stand between the two boys, pushing them both away from each other and letting them cool down. Just as Eddie's about to speak again his phone rings. Signaling the boys to be quiet with his pointer finger to his lips he takes a look at the caller id and waves his hand at them in dismissal.

"Hey Red, still gonna make the show?" Eddie had asked Max if she was going to see Corroded Coffin perform, but she had gone on a little getaway with Lucas and wasn't sure when she'd be back.

"Yea, of course You can invite her. The more the merrier." Eddie agreed, pacing the garage as he spoke to Max. "Is she cute?" He asked with a shy smile on his face. "Fine, fine." He continued.

Getting off the phone with Max he checked his messages again and to his surprise you had sent a reply back.

Peach: I have a boyfriend.

"Son of a bitch." Eddie threw his phone on the couch crossing his arms as he glared at the floor. Frustrated that his plan was crumbling beneath him along with his dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hot water sprays over your body as you think of the outcomes if you were to go on this blind date. They never responded when you asked who they were which raised all the red flags and your mind went into a worse case scenario. What if it was Him, the masked man that haunted your dreams still. The therapy has been working, weekly and always on call if you ever needed it, medication changes were few but sometimes adjusting or adding to the list was necessary. So you lied and said you have a boyfriend, hopeful that they would get the hint that you were not interested.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his bedroom, Eddie sat at his desk, phone in hand open with tabs of all his social media accounts and a calendar of future shows to be played.

"Omg you googled her?!" Gareth chuckled, as he hoovered behind Eddie, who was currently scrolling through your instagram page.

"Nah man, I looked up Glass House and she follows them." Eddie scrolled through all your posts, admiring all the traveling you'd done and how many musician friends you had. There were some that he admired and others that he didn't know. The fancy places you've eaten at were lavish. He was skeptical of some of the dishes but hoped to at least try them one day. To his disappointment, There weren't many pictures of you. He scrolled to the end of your page and didn't see any of your so-called boyfriend, maybe you were a private person and your instagram was only work related.

His finger hovered over Sebastian's page, debating if this was going too far, would he even like what he saw. He wasn't with you so it didn't matter, but why was he so nervous? Cracking his neck side to side, his thumb gently pressed on Sebastian's profile and a flood of images filled the screen.

There you were, your beautiful smile shining bright through his phone, and Eddie's belly flipped as if he were seeing it in the flesh. Through all the music related posts, band practice, live shows and members of the band, were small bits and pieces of you scattered about. Most were candid photos, at the studio listening to whatever played through your headphones, a shy smile peeking through a glass of wine held at your lips, god did Eddie wish he was a wine glass. Zooming into one particular photo he sees your bare back wearing nothing but a black bra and panties that leave nothing to the imagination, you're laying on your stomach on top of a white bed with messy white sheets. He traces over the feminine curve of your back, down to the slope of your waist and above the plush of your ass. His eyes land on your profile and his heart beats wildly at your sleeping form, hair sprawled out like a halo, you're facing away from the camera and Eddie wonders if you're aware of this intimate photo being taken. It suddenly occurs to him that you're in bed barely clothed and his stomach twists at the realization, Sebastian has you and he doesn't.

"He's not her boyfriend." Gareth voiced, startling Eddie who seemed to forget his bandmate was hunched over him. He pulls his phone close to his chest away from Gareth's wandering eyes. "Well, there's pictures of her in bed and them kissing. Last night at the party I saw him with her."

Eddie stood up and laid on his bed as Gareth took a seat at the desk. "Must be complicated," he shrugged. "She just told me she has a boyfriend. Must've been recent then."Gareth snatched Eddie's phone out of his hand.

"Hey!" He snapped. Scrolling through the messages Eddie sent you, Gareth shook his head "Blink 182? Really? God your lame." He laughed, "And you're an idiot. You didn't say who you were." Throwing the phone back, Eddie looks over the texts again and groans. Gareth was right he missed the message where you asked "who's this." While he thought of another response Eddie went back to your instagram for clues as to what type of person you were.

Bringing his face closer to the screen, eyes squinting. 'It couldn't be' he thought. A girl was standing in frame, she wore faded blue jeans with a pale orange top and a blue blouse folded to her elbows. In her hands was a white planter with wild green leaves that brought life to red beautiful flowers, unmistakable red hair flowed down her shoulders and bright blue eyes peeked behind blossoms of red. Eddie looked to the bottom of the photo reading the caption 'look what my roommate grew!.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two knocks, a pause and two more knocks were heard on your apartment door. You heard the key enter, the door knob twist and your roommate stepped inside. "I'm back!" She announced, as she pulled in her luggage from the hallway. Squealing you raced towards her and greeted her with a huge hug that had you both stumbling.

"Max! I missed you. How was the trip? How's Lucas doing?" You questioned.

Exhausted from traveling Max threw herself on the couch and told you how they traveled down to San Diego to see the Battle ships. "We went to this fancy restaurant where they have dry aged steak–"

You cut her off, leg bouncing in anticipation, and not wanting to wait any longer. "Did he finally ask you to marry him?" Max deflated. With a tight lipped smile she shook her head. "No. He didn't ask. But I still had so much fun and I'm sure it'll be soon."

Max had told you all about her on and off again relationship with Lucas, and ever since her accident, as she calls it, they've been together ever since. She told you all about their first dance, the first kiss they shared, the first time they said I love you. It was all so romantic and out of a fairytale. A fairytale that you longed for. She just smiled as you told her all the romantic things you wanted to do and how lucky she was that she had found that special someone. She didn't tell you about all the bad things. She couldn't. Your face lit up at the mention of the snowball dance, and their weekly movie marathons. You were both brought to tears as she recounted the way Lucas was by her side after her accident.

She wanted you to have this idea that love was easy and it would find you when you least expected it. So she couldn't tell you about Vecna or Will. Most importantly she didn't want to tell you how her brother Billy died. How she saw him die. But you needed her to tell you that you weren't alone, that this deep trench in your heart would never mend but if you had found someone that brought you peace on those nights where the screams were too loud and the night too dark. A soul strong enough to carry the weight of your trauma, yet compassionate enough to walk you through the pain. Then maybe they could slowly fill that hollow trench bucket by bucket. Not of dirt or water simply understanding. Understanding that you'll never be who you once were, full of happiness and light. Rays of sunshine peeking through someone's gloomy day. Now, you were the gloom, the dark low hanging clouds full of tears threatening to pour down on undeserving innocents. Who knew whether those drops would be light and just tickle the skin. Would they be heavy and constant for days on end, causing those to witness shield their eyes and run towards a dry, safer climate. At any moment any sudden reminder of that night could trigger a siren of caution echoing through their ears that a violent storm was just on the horizon. Upon Hearing that screeching siren loud above their heads all would run, gathering their belongings and loved ones to escape the danger that was to come. All except one.

You didn't tell Max about what had happened. It's not something to bring up in casual conversation or any conversation for that matter. 'Hey, I saw my mom get shot to death and I held my hands over her bleeding wounds until her blood saturated both our clothes…. No biggie. How was your day?'

There would never be a right time. A right scenario and even if there was you didn't want to relive that night, no one does. So you kept that part of you hidden, shoveled so deep within that trench with a lock and key. Any threats of those tears or incoming clouds were met with scripted phrases.

"I'm just so tired."

"Allergies."

"It's fine."

"Eyelash in my eye"

And the worst of all

"I'm ok."

The day settles to night as you shift under the sheets with your laptop open, preparing your schedules and artists you were going to see for the week when you hear the unmistakable ding of your phone. You find it stuffed between the pillow you're laying on and your shoulder. Upon reading the message your eyes widened at the boldness and your lips curved up into a beaming smile.

Unknown: "Of course someone as pretty as you would have a boyfriend, that's cool I'm not looking to be your boyfriend though. I just thought you might need a husband.

Unknown: "It's Eddie by the way."

You shake your head chuckling at his audaciousness. But he got you smiling at your phone, cheeks heating up and flutters in your tummy.

You: "Oh, that was good. I guess we should go on a date then if you're planning to be my husband."

Eddie: "I thought you'd never ask." 😉

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