#it’s been ages since I made a positivity post but I was feeling one tonight.

[irrealisms]

shoutout to everyone with a complicated or negative relationship to antipsychotics. to everyone who’s “noncompliant”. to everyone who’s on them due to force or coercion. to everyone who’s on them because they’re afraid of not being. to everyone who’s going through withdrawal without medical supervision & against medical advice. to everyone who hates the side effects but still prefers them to being unmedicated. to everyone who dislikes them for “disordered” reasons. to the people on them who don’t think they need them & the people off them who think they do. to everyone who doesn’t like them but does better at school or work on them & to everyone who likes them but does better without them. to everyone who gets them on they grey market. to everyone who self-medicates with illegal drugs instead. to everyone with medical/psychiatric trauma. to everyone refusing to go to doctors (even if they would be helpful with other things) because they don’t want to be put on antipsychotics. I see you & im here with you. no matter what your diagnosis is you deserve bodily autonomy.

[springwitch26]

hots for teacher (part 2) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 1

summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later? (part 2: what happens)

warnings: smut, intensely NSFW, praise kink, age gap, squirting, d/s vibes, inexperienced!reader, minors and men please don't touch this post

notes: ask and you shall receive, beauties! thank you for all the love on part 1, it's kinda surreal to be writing my own fics but also super liberating. any feedback is welcome. idk when i'll write again but i may or may not have another little nsfw draft with a more... punishing... interpretation of mel so we'll see! also, feel free to send me asks because i'm lonely. this one goes out to whoever said melissa schemmenti loves sluts, 'cause yeah she does.

the car ride back to melissa's place felt like it would never end. you crossed your legs when you first got into the passenger seat--partly out of habit and partly to get some friction on your aching core--and were quickly reprimanded.

"tsk tsk, baby. guess i'll have to teach you manners, too. keep those pretty thighs apart for me, all the way home. you're gonna wait patiently until i get my hands on you," melissa scolded.

you whined incoherently, and she responded with a dangerous laugh. the trip was short but unbearable. she had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other drew lazy patterns on your inner thigh. you squirmed and writhed, even moaned quietly, but she remained nonchalant.

at one point, when her fingers drew oh-so close to where you needed them most, your thighs snapped shut of their own accord.

"c'mon, legs open," was all she said in response. she tried to act casual, but you could tell from her excited half-smile that she was enjoying this game more than she let on.

as soon as you got in the door, she was on you. you barely had the focus to take in your surroundings as she lavished you with kisses, working her way across your lips and face before burying herself in your neck. her house was cozy and tastefully decorated with gentle lighting. in the soft glow, her slightly disheveled hair and lustful eyes were a sight you'd never forget.

"is there anyone--oh!" you squealed as her fingers began to trace circles on your nipples through your dress. "is there anyone else here?"

"sensitive, huh?" she teased, smirking down at you. "and no, it's just me tonight."

before you had time to consider what that last word implied, she picked you up and effortlessly whisked you to her bedroom. you were dazzled by the sight of her private space--it was simple yet beautiful, adorned with shades of green and twinkling lights. you didn't expect this level of whimsy from her, and it somehow made her even sexier.

she laid you on the bed carefully, reverently. "god, look at you." she whispered, sending shivers down your spine as she positioned herself on top of you and returned to your lips.

by now you were painfully needy from all her teasing, and you just needed her to fuck you senseless. you tried to convey that with your impatient noises, but it seemed the older woman had other plans. she pulled away from your lips to take in your flushed, desperate face.

"soon, sweetheart, soon. i know you're so worked up, but i plan to make this last."

you hummed in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the buttons of her shirt. you thought maybe if you got her a bit more riled up, she would be less inclined to take her time.

melissa groaned, feeling your delicate fingers ghost over her chest, but shook her head in disapproval. she removed your hands from her shirt, grabbing your wrists with surprising force. "i'm not taking my clothes off yet. i'm in charge, and you need to learn patience."

you gave her your best pout, but you knew she wouldn't budge. this was about power, not patience. she wanted to be clothed, composed and in control while you lay naked and vulnerable underneath her.

she started to pull at the fabric of your dress. you lifted your hips, and in one fluid motion, she slipped it over your head and off of you. it was an expert move, and you shivered at the idea that she had done this many times before.

when she saw your body, she paused for a moment, her mouth slightly open and her pupils dilated. "no bra?" she asked under her breath, not looking for an answer. "you're so soft in my hands..." she mused as her hands massaged your breasts. her fingers moved to pinch and rub over your nipples.

you moaned, bucking your hips upward and seeking more contact. she took the hint and directed her attention to your core.

"nice panties, by the way," she said with a cocky laugh, tugging playfully at the soaked pink lace. "who knew little miss gothic had a colorful side?"

"please, mel, no more teasing, i need you so bad," was all you could manage.

"okay, baby, let's get these off ya." she hooked her fingers through your panties and you lifted your hips, allowing her to drag them off. she folded them neatly and tucked them into her front pocket. something cutesy to remind her of you, wet and pliant under her touch.

"mmm, such a messy girl. you must feel so embarrassed, all spread out and naked for me while i'm fully clothed, playin' with you."

you could only whimper and whine, helplessly turned on by her words but pinned to the bed and unable to move. she cooed at you and took pity, moving down your body to get closer to your core.

she placed her hands once again on the insides of your thighs, gently pulling them apart and revealing your glistening pussy. her breath stuttered upon seeing the wetness covering your core and thighs.

"jesus, hon, you're dripping. you're just aching for me, aren't ya? need me to make you feel good?"

"yes!" you finally exclaimed, regaining your voice. "yes, please, melissa, please touch me, i need you," you begged.

"well, since you asked so nicely..." she gave you a smirk and trailed a finger between your puffy lips, gathering the wetness there.

by this point you were writhing all over the bed, so she had to pin your legs down with her knees. neither of you minded, though. you enjoyed feeling completely at her mercy, and she enjoyed watching you squirm under her.

finally, after an eternity of torture, she gave in, slipping a finger into you with ease and rubbing gentle circles over your clit.

"so tight, fuck," she muttered to herself as she began to move inside you, transfixed by the feeling of you around her.

"feels so good, ohhh..." you mewled as her finger quickly found a rhythm, pumping forcefully and curling at your most sensitive spots.

"you're taking me so well, baby, my brave girl," she soothed, relishing in her ability to draw such pathetic sounds from you. "can you handle one more?"

you nodded frantically, almost too lost in the haze of pleasure to hear her.

she grinned and pushed another finger inside you, making you cry out. you were relatively inexperienced, so the stretch was a bit painful at first, but you were soon overcome by the bliss of feeling so full.

"that's new, huh? poor baby, can barely take two fingers," her thrusts got rougher, as if she was trying to break you. "don't whine now, you wanted this."

you were overwhelmed with pleasure and the slight pain of the intrusion. her fingers were long, nimble and skilled, and she seemed to know all the right spots and rhythms to make you see stars. her fingers stroked your clit with more pressure now, making you shake and moan uncontrollably. it was almost too much. you wanted to scream, but you could only produce pathetic little whimpers of "ah, ah, ah!"

she was clearly aware of what she was doing, and she revelled in your pleasure. she would ease up, return to a gentler pace, and then thrust hard into your g-spot just to hear your cries and gasps. she longed to see you lose control.

"that's a good girl, keep takin' my fingers just like that. you're close, aren't you baby? let's see how long you can last against me," she said, her voice deep and her smile mischievous. there was a competitive edge to her words, like making you fall apart was some kind of victory to her.

suddenly she pulled away completely, and you nearly sobbed. your hips bucked up into nothing. your helpless whimpers were music to the older woman's ears, and she snickered to herself as she moved down your body.

for a moment, there was silence. you stared at her, silently pleading for her touch. she cocked her head at you and raised an eyebrow, silently asking you: are you ready? you nodded intently. you weren't sure what she was going to do to you, but you sure as hell wanted to find out.

before you even had the chance to brace yourself, she was thrusting two fingers roughly inside you again, rubbing hard at that spongy spot. for the final blow, melissa leaned down and attached her lips to your clit, sucking harshly.

"not yet, sweetheart. stay with me," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she felt your walls flutter and clench around her.

with her free hand, she reached up and pressed softly on your lower abdomen. between that, the punishing thrusts, and the hot pressure on your clit, you couldn't take it anymore. the sensations overwhelmed you. the world went blank, and all you could feel was warmth. you swam through oceans of white-hot ecstasy, riding wave after wave of pleasure. and melissa was right there, coaxing you through heaven's gates.

melissa's thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your outer thighs, bringing you back down to earth. "come back to me," she whispered sweetly. you opened your eyes.

"there she is," she said, her eyes sparkling with relief.

she gave you a giddy smile and you noticed the wetness all over her face... and fingers... and sheets. you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

melissa must have picked up on this, as she took hold of your hand and reassured you. "don't be embarrassed, angel. that was probably the hottest thing i've ever seen." she laid down next to you as she spoke.

you hummed and buried your face in the crook of her neck. she was warm and smelled like cinnamon.

"did you know you could do that, hon?" she asked.

"yeah," you giggled, still dazed. "but i didn't know you could do that."

"i'm fulla surprises, kid," she laughed, stroking your hair. "let me run us a bath, and then we'll see what kind of surprises you've got in you."

she carried you bridal-style to the bathtub, and you relaxed into the bliss. feeling the warmth of her arms around your frame. drowning in her.

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author's Note: This chapter is a tad shorter, my apologies. I almost didn't finish it cause my meds started to make me feel real gross tonight, but I managed! I am determined and powerful and strong 💪

Cross posted on AO3

Session 4: Adding Details

Ever since the last painting session with Leon a few days ago, he's been a lot more lively. He jokes more, laughs more, and flirts a lot more. Specifically with you.

It's only been a couple hours into the next session and he's already called you 'sweetheart' five times. You counted. Hard not to when the man decides to put on the most seductive tone to say it, honestly.

You've begun to reciprocate Leon's flirting since clearly he's not one to hide what he's after.

"Alright Romeo, I need you to stay still and in position for just a few minutes longer. I don't think you want me to accidentally paint you with those goo-goo eyes." Watching his poorly hidden panic made you giggle, his eyes averting to somewhere to the right. "Actually I need you to keep your eyes up here, not over there."

Leon groaned and rolled his eyes before turning them to look back at the spine of the easel, doing his best to hold a lax expression. "You're making this difficult. You have the picture!" He complained, eyebrows raising as he gestured to the stand sitting next to you.

"Yeah but- sit still- you're making the same goofy look in it like you were before." Once he resumed his position, you walked over to him from the easel to get a closer look at his expression, humming softly all the while. Leon was beginning to sweat, mostly due to having to sit still for as long as he had but now partially from your sudden proximity.

After getting a good look, you walked back over to the easel to continue painting, to which he let out a small sigh. He wanted to get to know you more, he should've tried that before you started the actual painting, but better late than never.

The man kept quite for roughly thirty minutes longer while you added smaller details to his face on the canvas, using probably the thinnest paintbrush he's ever seen.

"Is that thing even adding paint to the portrait? Or are you just pretending to get me to sit here longer?" There was that suggestive tone again, and maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you as they began to strain, but you could've swore he did that cheesy eyebrow wiggle at you.

You shook out your arm to give it a good stretch before placing it back where it was. "It's doing something. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Leon threw his head back with a laugh at your response, causing you to give him a quick glare before huffing out your annoyance. "Alright, clearly you're growing antsy. Let's take a short break." You stood up from the swivel chair and rolled your shoulders back, cleaning off your paintbrush with the solvent sitting next to you in a small mason jar. You had a couple of the windows open due to the fumes of the paint and solvent, so no worries there.

"Thank god..." Leon stood up with a loud and exaggerated groan. He wasn't young anymore, holding even a relaxed position like that was hard work on the body. "Thought I was gonna lose my legs." The dramatics this man possessed was funny, you had to admit.

"It's not that bad and you know it." You set down the paintbrush and turned around to see him mocking you with his hand. "Do I need to circle back to calling you a toddler? Cause I will."

Leon used the hand he was mocking you with to wipe across his eyebrow before letting his arm fall back to his side. "There's no need for extremes." Your lazy eyebrow raise at his response was all he needed to immediately follow up with "Sorry, ma'am."

It didn't sound genuine, but you'll take it. You nodded before walking over to the bathroom, scrubbing the paint from your hands to the best of your abilities. You had to use dish soap since oil paint was hard to wash off, that oily sheen was a pain in the ass when trying to hold a paintbrush.

The painting was really starting to come along. You worked fast while still remaining diligent. Oil paints were difficult to use, needing extreme patience due to how slowly it dried, how easily it could smear, and how hard it was clean off. No matter how nice you wanted to dress for Leon, you had to wear your painting outfit: A designated cheap and oversized outfit you picked out years ago for the sole purpose of taking a beating. You would wipe off your paintbrushes onto it to avoid having to use a paper towels or a rag each time.

Regardless, you were still as cute as ever to Leon. In fact, seeing you care so much about your work to be covered in paint was only making him fall for you more. Oversized clothes looked real good on you, so good that he'd been busy thinking about how you'd look in his clothes, hence that nearly blissed out expression you had to snap him out of earlier.

You both decided to sit over in the living area, Leon splayed out across the soft rug to give his joints a rest. He'd gotten a good look at how the painting was coming along before assuming his spot on the rug.

It was non-stop compliments from him. You could handle compliments, you've heard so many over the years regarding your art, but Leon's compliments were different. Instead of only complimenting the art, he decided to slip in little comments about you directly along side them.

"I went back to the White House over the weekend to look at the other portraits you'd done..." He started, head resting on his arms as they laid behind his head. "Just to get a feel for how mine would look once it's done."

"Is it living up to the standard so far? There's quite a bit more that needs to get done, and then it has to dry." You looked down at him on the rug, massaging your hand so it didn't cramp up more than it already had. "There's no standard for you to live up to, sweetheart. You could draw a stick figure and I'd be blown away."

You laughed at the suggestion, turning your head to look out one of the large windows to try and hide your smile. Wooing a painter was easy, apparently.

"You're just full of little accolades, aren't you, Mr. Kennedy?" You sighed, resting your chin in your hand as your elbow sat on your thigh.

"I can't help it. Being painted by such a pretty girl brings out the worst in me." Never in all your years of being alive had someone worked so hard to flatter you. Every single comment he made included something that had you flustered and struggling to respond.

Leon sat up on his elbows and looked over at you, that smirk as clear as day. He loved the way you could barely handle yourself at his compliments. "What're you thinkin' 'bout over there, angel?"

You let your hand fall into your lap as you looked back at him, giving his smirk a soft smile in return. "I could ask you the same question, calling me all these nicknames and such." It was only fair of you to ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

A little caught off guard, Leon hummed and pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. What was he doing, exactly?

"Well, whaddya think I'm doing?" Yeah, that was good. Instead of answering himself, he'll just drag it out of you. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're flirting with me." Your smile turned a bit more mischievous as you leaned towards him.

"Well, you'd be absolutely right, then." He responded with a chuckle, lowering his volume so he could fall right back into a seductive tone. "I got lucky enough to get my own painting. Even luckier to have you be the one painting me."

You gave him a small "mhm" as you nodded your head slowly, your tongue peaking out to wet your bottom lip as you listened to him talk. It took awhile, but eventually you managed a reply. "So... what exactly are you looking to do with all that sweet talk, hm?"

"Take you out on a date." His response was fast and it caught you off guard. Leon was so forward with what he wanted. When it came to the few people you'd dated in the past, you had to practically drag any sort of info from them. Your silence had brought him to sit all the way up now, body facing you as he sat with his legs crossed. "Is it working at all?"

It took a couple more seconds for you to nod, moving your hand to cover your mouth as you giggled. "Yeah, I think it is. Might need to keep it up just in case, though."

"Bummer, now I get to distract you even more while you paint me?" You stood up and placed your hand flat on his face, gently pushing his head back as you walked past him. "I'll paint on you if you distract me."

The session lasted a total of five hours, pausing for a couple breaks in between. You were now thoroughly painted out; hand cramping, eyes straining, and even with the windows open the smell of the paint and the solvent to clean it off the brushes had given you a slight headache. Leon was definitely tired also, given he actually fell asleep in the chair.

You decided to call it a day at that, patting him on the shoulder to wake him. "Time to get up and take your meds, old man." Leon startled awake, sucking in a harsh breath through his nose as he reoriented himself. When did he fall asleep?

You had already walked into the bathroom to wash your hands off, giving him the opportunity to wake up enough to stand. He yawned, walking over to look at how far along you'd gotten.

The painting immediately pulled him from his sleepy state, eyes widening with shock. You said you still had quite a bit left to do and it looked like this? It was like you'd ripped this straight from the 17th century. Leon was in awe. He looked good in this- no, far better than good. You'd captured his likeness better than the photo.

Seeing the man staring at your painting with his jaw dropped after walking out of the bathroom made you smile. "You like it?" You asked quietly while shaking your hands out as you hadn't dried them off all the way.

"No, I love it. You've got magic in those hands of yours, sweetheart." Leon crossed his arms, walking over to stand right in front of you. You clicked your tongue at him before your hand in front of him dismissively. "I wouldn't say it's magic, just years of drawing and painting endlessly until I got to the spot I wanted to be."

Leon closed his eyes and shook his head playfully, chuckling as he did so. "So humble of you." He followed you back over to the easel, watching you cover up the paints you were using with curious eyes. "About that date..."

You cocked an eyebrow, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you continued to carefully cover your paints. "What about it?"

"Just wondering when and where you'd want to go." The man grinned at you lazily, doing his best to disguise how nervous he actually was. "Hmm.." You glanced over at the wall clock you had sitting far above the light switches next to the entrance door, taking note of how late it was. "I'm pretty tired and I'm sure you are too, but how about we order something to eat here?"

Leon seemed surprised by your suggestion, grin widening as he nodded vigorously. "Plus, I am not going out looking like I just got assaulted with a paintball gun."

The two of you decided on something easy; pizza and soda. Leon opted to wear one of your many aprons to avoid getting any grease on his suit which made for an easy joke about him being a house-husband. Even though it was a technically a first date, both of you felt so comfortable with each other already, like you'd known each other for years. It was strange, but in a good way.

Leon was easy to get along with once he opened up. He really was a charming guy, even managing to get you to laugh with those corny ass dad jokes he loved so much. How such a man had gotten away with being single for so long baffled you.

The same went for you. Leon felt like you being single was just a fluke. There was no way someone as talented and gorgeous as you hadn't been swept off your feet yet. It was selfish of him for thinking it, but fuck was he ecstatic about that.

It was about 11pm when the two of you decided to call it a night, the hours spent bonding over random, seemingly meaningless stuff had really loosened both you and Leon up.

"Am I able to come back tomorrow and see you?" Leon asked in such a soft voice, motorcycle helmet in hand as he the other rested up against the doorway leading out of the building. He felt vulnerable for wanting to see you again like this.

"I won't be here tomorrow, need to give my hands a bit of a break." You giggled quietly, holding your palm out in front of him for emphasis. "But I can give you my address if you want to visit. I don't mind."

Those butterflies in his stomach fluttered at your proposal, barely able to nod after feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket once you texted him your address. He tried to act confident, having gone over every scenario possible in his head, yet you'd gone off script and he wasn't quite sure what to do anymore.

Seeing how flustered he'd become, you waved him closer, smiling as he bent over slightly. Leon thought you were gonna whisper something to him, that thought alone had him blushing, but feeling the gentle press of your lips against his had him struggling to breathe. He barely had a chance to react before you pulled away, his lips parted slightly as he stared at you.

You reached up and gently patted his cheek, running your hand along the stubble that had started to grow back. "Let me know when you wanna come over tomorrow, alright? Give me a little time to get dressed. I've looked ratty enough around you."

Leon wanted to protest that statement, you were far from ratty, but you just shushed his stuttering and nudged him out the door, giggling as he stumbled down the steps. He kept turning his head back to look at you every couple steps, feeling like some lovesick teenage boy who couldn't get his feet to work.

He was a little scared to drive home considering how uncoordinated he felt, but he made it back in one piece. Once sat on his bed, all he could think about was you and that damn painting. Leon didn't know what he was expecting when it came to that, honestly, but you seriously outdid yourself in his eyes.

Then you just had to flirt back with him, agree to a little date, and kiss him? Do you even know how hard it was to hide his boner from you?

He really did feel like a teenage boy, a simple kiss having him harder than a rock. Not to mention the drive home was uncomfortable since he had to position himself just right on the seat or else the constant vibration from his motorcycle would seriously cause him to crash.

Leon was weak. He hadn't felt this way in such a long time, but he guessed the newfound attraction came with the subconscious acceptance of his retirement. It's what made sense in his head.

God did he want you, masturbating in the shower to you wasn't enough, he needed you. All he could think about was your soft hands touching him, his hands all over your body, maybe even those pretty eyes of yours looking into his as he loved on you all night long.

The age gap was a bit of a worry to him in the beginning, mostly being insecure about his own age, but that worry was quickly brushed off when you kissed him tonight. You were a big girl. You knew what you wanted.

Leon felt so lucky that you reciprocated. All he'd felt since his retirement was grief, guilt, and pity for himself. Now you had him feeling like he was on top of the world and he couldn't ask for anything more. This little bit of sweetness in his life was so enticing, and of course he was going to follow it for as long as you'd let him.

[99zurins]

summary: wonwoo knows a lot, especially how your thoughts get into your head. when he knows you had a bad week, he wants to shower you with the gentle love you always give him when his thoughts get into his head.

note: god its been ages since i posted but alas!! this was a request for a friend of mine, and it helped me get out of my writing slump. enjoy <3

pair: f!reader x jeon wonwoo

tags: soft bf!wonwoo, SMUT (minors dni), communication during sex, kink exploration, spit, slight choking, dirty talk, slight degradation, multiple positions (sorta), safe sex, oral (both m. and f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), orgasm denial, edging, pet names (wonwoo calls reader baby, sweetheart, good girl, princess), soft dom!wonwoo, reader goes into subspace, wonwoo takes care of reader, reader works at a clinic

word count: 6.9k

[ wonu : babe

wonu: how are you feeling? ]

like shit, you want to text him. i’m not ok. so much, too much, is happening all at once your brain doesn’t know what to process first. it’s been like this from monday morning: you were short-staffed because three co-workers got sick, people kept complaining about the wait times, what could you do, you just work here. tuesday to thursday was absolute hell: how does someone mess up inventory TWICE? your co-worker doesn’t know shit. how did she get hired anyway! you don’t want to even think about friday’s disaster. you called in sick today, because fuck the clinic, and made sure you swapped your closing shift at the bookstore with someone else. your head is in chaos, all while managing a terrible migraine.

from the tylenol, the long naps, to the drops of essential oil on your pillow– none of it isn’t even helping.

you haven’t spoken to your boyfriend for a few days, there’s the i love yous, occasional memes or cat pics he sends, but it’s been quiet. he’s been busy too, he got hired by a better design company, meaning better schedules and much well-deserved salary, and has been finishing up his last few shifts on his secondary job at a milk tea shop. but since he’s one of the long time workers at the shop, he’s been busy training newbies to replace him, hence why he’s been awake earlier than you, and comes home so late. you know he’s home when he quietly slips into bed after a shower, snuggling you from behind, holding your small frame. but you miss the cuddles when you play games together, the shared silence with him, looking at dumb cat videos. everything about him, really, you miss. even though you live with him now.

[wonu: are you at your bookstore job tonight?]

you first tell a truth: you called in sick for both of your jobs. then, you lie, saying your friend-slash-coworker is coming over to talk about stuff.

[wonu: don’t lie to me

wonu: babe

wonu: i know you had a bad week]

it was just busy, you respond. you’re busy, baby. you’re probably tired too. we can talk about this later.

[wonu: i’m not ever tired when it comes to you

wonu: i’m gonna leave work right now

wonu: idc]

you feel tears well up. you not replying back is all he needs to know.

wonwoo shows up in twenty minutes, holding a bag of takeout, bubbletea, and a cute stuffed animal. you wondered how on earth did he get here so fast, considering it takes him about thirty-five minutes to get to back home, but you’re too tired to say anything. all he does is give you a hug, plant a soft kiss on your head, and you try really hard not to cry. he does the thing where he scratches softly under your chin, like how he usually would greet a cat, while your head leans into his chest.

“hi baby,” wonwoo finally speaks, giving you a soft smile. it fades when his cold fingertips linger around your cheekbones, and stops below your dark circles. “long week?”

“mm.” you try to pretend everything is okay. he knows you aren’t. he places more gentle kisses between your eyes and on the bridge of your nose.

“was hoping you would tell me, actually.” wonwoo quietly locks the front door, takes off his shoes, and you quickly scramble to find him some house sandals that would fit him. “baby, it’s okay, I don’t need slippers. none of them fit me, remember?”

wonwoo doesn’t wear the house slippers because the five house pairs are all yours. you insist on getting him a pair, he always refuses. you cough out a laugh, and you hear wonwoo giggle.

“right, i forgot, sorry,” you mumble. “what food did you get?”

“i got you your favourite,” pho from the restaurant where you had your first date with him in. it’s his favourite, too, “i got us a matcha cake slice and a strawberry one to share, too.” cakes from the cafe on the third date.

you nod quietly, and you watch him leave the takeout on the table. he pulls out a container (which is most likely the cakes), and grabs the two plastic forks.

“wonwoo, i’m not…” hungry, you trail off, you weren’t in the mood to eat, but wonwoo looks over at you, with such tenderness. his black turtleneck hugs his torso nicely, square glasses makes him look like a nerd, when did he get a haircut? and he looks over at you, attentive and with endearment. sometimes you wonder how you deserved him. “i’m…”

wonwoo finishes putting the takeout on the table, and approaches you with quiet steps. he cocks his head to the side, a motion to tell you come here, love, and you take a few steps closer, fiddling with the sleeves of the navy oversized sweatshirt (which belongs to wonwoo).

“how can i be here for you, baby?” he pulls you closer, rubbing small circles on your scalp with his thumb. you don’t really respond, but all you do is plant your face straight to his chest, wrapping your arms around his frame. you feel a low chuckle erupt from his chest. “baby, i’m not sure how my chest is… supportive enough.”

“well, they’re bigger than mine! it’s comfy!” you whine quietly, and wonwoo laughs at your answer. he embraces you, slightly moving side to side.

“i do want an answer, if you’re able to tell me.”

“um,” you hum, looking up to him, while he still scratches your head. “i kind of just want to cuddle… tell me about your new hires, or show me dumb videos of mingyu and seungkwan being stupid again, i really don’t wanna think about what this shitty week has done to me.”

“okay, we can do that.” he hums, and scoops you up, holding you like a sack of rice.

“why are you holding me like this.”

“i wanna open the door.”

“i…” you suddenly remember the bowl of pho sitting on the table. “wait, wonwoo, the pho–”

“we have a microwave.”

“i can walk to put it away first!”

“i wanna spoil you, princess. you deserve something good. no need to think about anything.”

you feel your brain go sideways.

“… okay.” you mumble, kissing the side of his head, ignoring the heat flushing in your cheeks, and the faded pink tint in wonwoo’s ears.

wonwoo puts you on the bed, and wraps you in a blanket burrito after a little cute protest and some kisses, telling you to wait while he quickly freshens up. you feel like you’re gonna fall off the bed, why did your boyfriend put you by the edge of the bed? idiot. after showering, he changes to a comfortable black muscle tee (gifted by soonyoung) and gray sweatpants. when he returns to the bedroom, he turns on the lampshade before shutting off the main light in the bedroom. he goes back by the bed, and unrolls you out from the blanket burrito, giggling as you find yourself rolling towards the middle of the bed.

“wonwoo, what the fuck,” you find it so silly, you’re trying to contain your laughter but it’s not working. you feel wonwoo climb up on the bed, and wonwoo seems like he’s having fun removing (more like unrolling) you out of the blanket. wonwoo starts pressing a few of your pressure points gently, making you giggle even more. “what are you, FUCK, that tickles, STOP THAT!”

“noooo,” wonwoo sounds like a child, and pushes off the final part of the blanket off your body. you’re laughing loudly on the bed, as wonwoo carefully pulls you up but you feel limp from laughing. he helps you sit up in front of him, and you think he’s finished with his confusing act, but he grabs the blanket, wraps you both in it, proceeds to embrace you close, and accidentally manhandles you, him hitting the bed while you’re on top of him. “oh, this wasn’t what i planned to do.”

“what?” you ask him. “manhandle me?”

“yeah, i got too excited, i’m sorry, baby.”

“well, if it makes you feel better,” you trace shapes on his cheekbones with your finger. “i liked it. had no thought in my head, just vibes.”

“mm,” wonwoo just hums, lightly patting your butt. a hand rests behind his own head, inadvertently flexing, and you mindlessly trace the healed floral ink that wraps around his bicep. “one of the new hires likes fruits basket, it reminded me of you.”

“WHAAAAAT?” you look at him with excitement gleaming in your eyes. you slap his chest lightly. “tell me more, tell me more!”

“well, she has a tattoo of kyo’s bracelet and named her pet hamster after yuki.” wonwoo says, playing with your hair. wonwoo started watching the series for you, although he hasn’t finished yet. “although she likes kuroo?”

“oh! kureno.”

“is he a bad person?” he likes to know what’s he in for at times, so some spoilers are okay.

“he falls in love with a minor.”

“oh.”

“yeah, it’s gross,” you sigh as you feel wonwoo massage your scalp. “oh that’s nice, by the way, did your manager allow you to take the cat apron?”

“i can’t. jihoon sucks.”

“boooo! he sucks.”

“my baby can always embroider me one, right?”

“i crochet, not embroider!”

“same idea!”

“no its not!” you pinch his nose. his nose scrunches up, and he tries to playfully bite your fingers. you pinch him even harder, and you giggle over his over exaggerated expression of pain. “i should really finish making that cat hat for you.”

“take your time, baby,” he kisses the tip of your fingers. “don’t stress on it. oh, speaking of which, jihoon sent me footage of seungkwan and mingyu tripping during close yesterday. i don’t know why you find it amusing to see them struggle.”

“because they’re so funny together,” you laugh, as wonwoo uses a free hand to grab his phone on the nightstand. he opens it and scrolls, looking for the video. you turn your head, listening to his steady heartbeat. the scent of his lavender bodywash is faint. it lingers. “besides, mingyu complains about his antics with seungkwan to me at the clinic sometimes.”

“ah, not surprised.”

wonwoo opens the video, and since it is security footage, it’s muted. the quality is grainy. it’s a bit blurry. as wonwoo lightly taps a tune on the small of your back, you watch with curious eyes. seungkwan is mopping, while mingyu is seen refilling the containers with straws and wooden utensils. it doesn’t look much, but you see seungkwan tell mingyu something, but his footing is awkward, causing him to slip on the wet floor. seungkwan doesn’t fall on the ground, and mingyu is laughing at him, throwing his head back in amusement. mingyu suddenly slips backwards, falling on his side, and a bunch of straws fall on the floor. seungkwan looks like he’s gonna cry so much from laughing too hard. someone else (it looks like vernon) appears from the corner and stares at mingyu, whose still on the floor. he leaves. you and wonwoo snort loudly, you shutting your eyes hard because it’s too funny. he locks his phone and puts it back on the nightstand, stroking your head while you continue to laugh.

“god, they’re so stupid,” you shake your head. “how does jihoon deal with them?”

“he tries not to.” wonwoo halfly jokes, scrunching up his nose. you snicker. “at least they get the job done, and jihoon will be less stressed.”

“hopefully the new hires don’t fuck up.”

“i made sure they won’t.” wonwoo says, looking at you with endearment. you can’t help but move up, and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, even taking a hold of your face as you pepper him with soft kisses. “you’re being more adorable today.”

“well, i feel like i miss you a lot more lately,” you lightly push his glasses up. “even though i see you everyday, i don’t know, it’s different this time.”

“how so?”

you still don’t want to think about the disaster the week has been. but you want your heart to be open. steady.

“sometimes, i forget i’m not alone,” you tell him. his attentive gaze never leaves your face. “and that i don’t have to… i don’t have to burden everything all at once. and i’m sorry if i feel like i’m not relying on you.”

“baby,” wonwoo cups your face and squishes your cheeks. you inadvertently let out a laugh. “don’t be sorry. please don’t ever be.”

“i know, but i…”

“you’re very important to me.” he strokes your cheekbone. “i am always here. i’m sorry if i appeared… distant lately. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s okay, woo. i’m just overthinking.”

“it’s not…” he whispers, face softening. “you had a bad week, and me being busy isn’t an excuse to make sure my baby is okay. like i said, you’re very important to me, and the love you give me makes me so happy. i love you so much.”

“i love you so much too, wonwoo… how did i deserve you?” you feel your heart swell, and the urge to cry comes. “sometimes i wonder about that.”

“you deserve everything. and i’ll make sure i can give everything to you.”

“then…” you trail off, going quiet for a moment. wonwoo watches you, and you raise yourself up, adjusting yourself to almost straddle his lap. “can you…”

“hm?”

“can you take care of me?” you whisper, tugging the hem of his shirt. you swallow the embarrassment down, reminding yourself that it’s okay. “please?”

it seems like a desperation from you, but wonwoo knows you best. you know that he’ll always and will take care of you with utmost tenderness and gentle love. but sometimes, just barely, or just too often, you question yourself how (and why) you deserve him. you already thought the shared kiss under the stars a few years ago was something he’d forget easily. but the nerd he is, he’ll plant constellations upon constellations of kisses across your body, (as if you’re the universe herself), and ask you to guess which constellation it is. on your anniversary, he’ll always kiss the libra constellation on you because that’s the one you both saw under that fated starry night. (although, he loves kissing the pisces constellation on your body. a lot).

wonwoo gazes upon you, eyes brimming with gentleness, and he carefully sits up, motioning you to move closer to him. his hands rest on your hips, his right thumb stroking your hip. your arms reach out to him, as they wrap slowly around his neck.

“how would like me to take care of you?” he whispers so low, leaning in close, his lips brushing against yours, his right hand going up to play with your sweatshirt, sending a chill down your spine.

“however you want.”

wonwoo pulls you in for a kiss, holding the back of your neck, while his left hand slips under your shorts, lightly caressing the back of your thigh. his tongue teases the roof of your mouth, causing you to let out a small whine, as his left hand takes a hold of your ass, occasionally squishing it.

“do you want me to continue?” wonwoo breathlessly says in between wet kisses. while he fiddles with the hem of your sweatshirt, you nod in response. “words, baby.”

“yes, please.”

“what do you want?”

you and wonwoo are no stranger to sex, but compared to your friends, you and him are considerably on the more… calmer side of things. and thats okay, it’s normal! everyone is different. tonight, however, feels different. even with his constant reassurance, little kisses of i’m here for you, and delicate whispers, you want wonwoo to…

“if you could help me not overthink, that’ll be great,” you feel yourself flush red, looking down at the end of his shirt, fiddling with it. “if you, uh, know what i mean.”

“oh.” wonwoo sighs when your fingers slip under his shirt and ghost over his chest. he’s figured what you meant. “are you sure?”

“as long as you fuck me, make me feel good,” you mumble, feeling yourself grind against him, kissing him wetly. “i could care less how you do it.”

wonwoo hisses at the pressure, and stares at you, a glint of lust and admiration starting to shine through, all while playing with the band of your shorts. he brings up a hand near your face, and pulls you in for another kiss, tongue toying with yours, and when you whine, he sucks the tip of your tongue.

“remember our safe word, baby?”

“kohyangi,” you breathe out, thinking about the cute cat cafe you both went to last year, while wonwoo kisses red blooms on your neck.

“how far do you want me to…”

“how we usually are, but i wanna see you try,” you stop wonwoo from kissing your neck, and you bring him to your face, letting him kiss you more. “you can be a little rougher tonight.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” he gently flips you over, carefully laying you down on the bed, lips never leaving yours until he briefly parts to remove his glasses. putting them on the nightstand clumsily, he comes back for your lips, and you melt against him. through his relentless teasing and his tender touches against you make your head spin. he kisses a little harder, a little more desperate, hands starting to roam around your frame, arms caging you– an underlying message that he isn’t going anywhere, and that he belongs to you, you are his, and that you are deserving of everything. a curious hand slips under your shirt, feeling your bare chest. his other hand toys with the band of your shorts, mumbling if it’s okay to take them off, and he swiftly removes them when you give him a ‘yes’.

“oh, this is pretty,” wonwoo compliments your underwear. it’s a baby blue thong. he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room. “they new?”

“um, uh, yes? they were on sale… good deal, too…” you suddenly feel yourself shrink, turning red. you stare at his toned muscles, and you see a satisfied smirk on wonwoo’s face, eyes turning lustful. he pushes the sweatshirt high enough for your chest to be exposed to the air, never breaking eye contact until he swoops down, and starts planting kisses, tongue teasing your nipple, and occasionally biting at some places. “i bought a bunch since… kinda wanted to try wearing these… for you.”

you see wonwoo’s ears turn pink, and feel yourself crawling into a hole.

“aw, cute, my princess wants to treat me.” your brain screams. wonwoo kisses over the healed ink near your hip.“they look great on you, makes your tattoo here even sexier.”

“are.. are you doing the andromeda constellation?” you breathe out, trying to divert his (horny) attention somewhere else. “or is it something else?”

“mmhmm, correct, that’s my good girl,” wonwoo teases and you feel yourself choke on your own spit. he starts toying with the band of your underwear, and bites a mark on the hip bone. you didn’t even realize he’s already settled in between your legs until you feel him breathe. he tongues over the bite mark, soothing it. damn, ain’t this one nice way to go out. “you’re learning so well.”

“shit,” you shyly say between your teeth.

“keep the sweatshirt on, i wanna fuck you in it.”

“good, that was the intention.” you try to counter wonwoo, and you feel yourself twitch when wonwoo presses his thumb over your clothed clit. “does it make you possessive?”

“baby, you have no idea.” he responds, hooking a finger in the band of your thong.“may i?”

you nod at him, and he slowly peels off your underwear. as you slightly raise your hips so he can easily pull them off, he’s awkward with it, making you remove it instead. wonwoo clicks his tongue in slight annoyance. all you do is just smile at him, slipping them off with ease. you sit up (just a bit) to toss them somewhere on the bed or floor, and you don’t realize wonwoo is incredibly close to your pussy until you adjust your positioning. your breath hitches when he breathes.

“hm?” he starts to tease, kissing around the area and the lower stomach, but doesn’t do anything. “you’re pretty down here.”

“babe, please,” you try to sound exasperated but he plants the softest kiss on your clit and you almost collapse your arms. “just nervous, that’s all, even though we’ve done this a lot…”

“it’s okay, baby, i don’t blame you, i get nervous too,”wonwoo murmurs, and he can’t help it but he finds himself licking his lips. “may i eat you out?”

“yes, please.”

he first lightly swipes his tongue from the entrance to the clit, and he does it again, and again, and again, as you let out a soft noise the more he does it. he kisses your clit, and licks it, tongue flicking it a few times, doing a circular motion, and you sigh out a moan, hand resting on the crown of his head. he briefly pauses to use his thumbs to spread you out a little more, and opens his mouth, letting drool drip down on your pussy, watching it drip down, and he goes back in with his tongue. he increases the pressure, and you whine, almost hitting your head against the headboard. he keeps up the pace, moaning against your folds whenever you do, tongue slipping inside you occasionally. he starts to get even more sloppy, messy– making wet noises the more he eats you out.

“my princess is being so so good, so wet,” he mumbles lowly against your folds, hearing how wet he made you, briefly pulling away to kiss your inner thighs. you whine how his finger is teasing your hole, and his lips come back to suck on your clit again. “so needy, all for me.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine breathlessly, feeling wonwoo’s hand grip your thigh a little harder. he looks up, eyes never breaking away from yours, while his tongue slowly licks up from the entrance to your clit. he closes his eyes, relishing in the taste of you. you are sure your thigh is going to bruise, but his head is in between your legs, so it’ll be worth the bruising. “wonwoo, fuck, oh my god,”

“mm, fuck, so sweet,” he mumbles against your pussy. a finger slips inside you, slowly moving back and forth. the bed slightly shakes, and you see that he’s lightly grinding against the sheets, in desperation for some relief. you sigh at the sight, trying to stifle a moan as he puts more pressure with his tongue. “baby, go ahead, be louder.”

“its, fuck, embarrassing! holy shit,” you respond back a little louder, body arching when wonwoo adds another finger and grazes that sweet spot inside. you feel wonwoo pin down your hips with his other hand. “so, fuck, so, so good.”

“good,” wonwoo coos. “how bad do you wanna come?”

“so bad, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” your brain feels dizzy. “please wonwoo, please.”

wonwoo hums, continuing to suck your clit with wet noises and fingering you good. you find yourself mumbling incoherent sentences, and you find yourself feeling a wave of relief and pleasure overtake your body, trying to breathe. you clench around his fingers, hearing wonwoo coax you through your orgasm, leaving little kisses on you of you’re doing so well for me, and my baby, baby, all mine.

“can i spit in your mouth?” wonwoo removes his mouth from you, but his fingers have slowed their movement.

“yes.” you whine at the brief loss.

“open up.” he demands softly, a wet thumb pressing against your bottom lip. you oblige, and he leans in, letting drool drip down from his mouth into yours, his fingers busy with your hole, and uses his tongue to push it in your mouth. you shut your eyes, moaning while wonwoo’s tongue meets with yours.“good girl. was that okay?”

“y-yes,” you say in between wet kisses. another finger slips inside you, making it three, while you both make out, tasting yourself against his tongue. “it was good.”

“do you want me to do it again tonight?” wonwoo slightly rolls on his side, all while fingering you and peppering your neck with more kisses.

“it was really hot but,” you moan, trying to reach the band of his sweatpants. you can see how hard he is, and how much relief he desperately needs. “i don’t know if i wanna do it again. not again tonight, if that’s okay.”

“it’s always okay, baby, thank you,” wonwoo smiles against your neck, and you really wonder how you feel horny and soft all at once. he feels your fingers tease the band of his sweatpants, almost tracing the dent against it.“oh, baby, no need to worry about me.”

“but i want to make you feel good, too,” you say softly, breaths staggering while he fingers you long and slow. “don’t want—fuck— to be the only one.”

“well,” wonwoo gazes at you, eyes half-lidded with a slight fucked out look on his face. “does my girl want to make me feel good? words, baby, i need to hear them.”

“i want to make you feel good, please.”

“how badly?”

“s-so bad,” you whine when wonwoo removes his fingers from you. rolling on top of him, you press your body against his, your fingers holding the band of his sweats. “i want to suck you off.”

“wanna show me how with my fingers?” he brings up his fingers covered in your wetness close to your lips. “how will my baby suck me off?”

“only if you let me jerk you off, too.”

“i’d love that, fuuck,” wonwoo groans when you pull down his sweats and your hand wraps over his hard dick. he’s so fucking hard. your thumb teases the tip, playing with the precum and letting your hand coat itself in it. wonwoo’s fingers slowly go in your mouth, and you swirl your tongue around them. “baby, fuck, you’re such a slut.”

“y-you’re the bigger slut,” you shyly whisper against his fingers. you help wonwoo get out from his sweatpants, leaving him naked, and you start grinding your cunt against his bare thigh. he hisses, feeling how wet you are down there, and his free hand grabs a hold of your hip. “you made me like this.”

“you’re so wet, baby,” wonwoo sighs, pulling you in for a kiss, sighing when you jerk him off slowly. as you slightly pick up the pace, thumbing the slit, wonwoo’s hand reaches from behind to play with your hole. you quickly pull away to let a trail of spit go down his cock for some lubrication, and wonwoo throws his head back, groaning, when you jerk him off faster. “fuck, that’s my girl, go ahead, suck me off.”

“and you’re calling me the slut,” you mumble. you hear wonwoo laugh against your lips, until you feel his hand lightly slap your ass. you sigh at the pain, wonwoo rubbing the reddenning spot. “wow, kinky, are we?”

“you’re cute.”

“you like it.”

“you’re so– oh, fuck,” wonwoo feels his breathing stagger when you slide down, your tongue teasing the tip. you look up, trying hard to maintain eye contact, all while holding his thick cock with your hand (you forget how thick he is, you can barely wrap your hand around it completely) and giving it kittenish licks, before wrapping your lip around the tip. you make a few wet sucking noises, before spitting down on his cock for more lubrication. “fuck, baby, can you take all of me?”

“i haven’t even done anything yet,” you continue to trail your tongue along the veins and stroke him at the girth, and he moans— you feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting to hear more of it. “wanna tell me what should i do?”

“d-do as you please.” he groans out your name, cursing under his breath, and strokes your head as you continue to suck him off. not only does he love it when he ensures you’re vocal about what you want, he loves it when you ask him what he wants. being communicative is something he prioritizes so much (in general, obviously). and during times like these, communication is so so sexy.

you look at him, eyes signaling am i doing good for you?, and wonwoo bites his lip, enthralled by the sight. he really, really, can’t wait to ravish you.

“oh, holy fuck,” his thoughts get slightly interrupted when he feels his cock almost hit the back of your throat. feelings mixed with surprise and arousal that overwhelm him, he bites his lip to avoid a moan slipping out, wrapping his own hand around the base and presses it, edging himself. “oh, fuck, baby, you don’t have to take everything in.”

“b-but,” you remove your mouth from him, a slick pop sound coming out, as a trail of spit and come stick on your mouth. you still use your hands to jerk him off, looking at him with glossed eyes. “i wanna make you feel good.”

“you already are, baby,” wonwoo hitches his breath when you put your mouth back on his cock, a finger trailing your jaw. “but i’m the one who was suppose to fuck you til you can’t think, right? do you still want that, sweetheart?”

“uh-huh,” you mumble. “i-i do.”

“come here, then,” wonwoo encourages you to come up, licking your mouth. he runs a tongue on the roof of your mouth, as you moan while his hand plays with your hole again. “i taste good, don’t i?”

“mmhmm,” you reply against his lips, and wonwoo easily slips two fingers inside you again. he sucks on your bottom lip, fingering you faster, and you find yourself instinctively riding his fingers, moans getting more desperate as his other hand takes a hold of your hip and helps you ride his fingers. “fuck, fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum again, oh my god, your fingers are so good, woo.”

“that’s it, baby,” wonwoo says, adding in a third finger. you feel his thumb press again your clit. “come for me again, sweetheart.”

you ride out your second orgasm of the night. although it’s not as intense as the first, it feels more of like a softer wave holding you close. wonwoo kisses your neck and collarbones, whispering you praises and love notes as he helps you finish.

“please fuck me already,” you whine into the kiss, and wonwoo starts playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “wonwoo, please, i want you…”

“patience, baby,” wonwoo whisper in your ear, and you feel his hand go up and down your back. “i’ll take care of you as long as you like me to. can you go on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“can we kiss first?”

“of course, baby.”

you’ll never get sick of kissing wonwoo, ever. you find how you melt into each other’s warmth, comfort, and love— and how he feels like home, the hugs on rainy days, the shared smiles— you adore how his kisses are reminders of i’m always here and love letters, how much he loves you- all of you—

wonwoo shifts when you move onto the position, him moving his hand down your back. he asks if its okay if he can lift up your hips a little higher, and says good girl when you follow his instruction.

“can i…?” wonwoo asks, raising your hips up, so your ass is sticking up in the air. “can i fuck you holding one of your arms behind your back?”

“holy fuck,” you whisper, looking at him, a part of your face squished by the pillow. you and wonwoo aren’t that experimental, but this… is something. “if that will help you fuck me so hard til i can’t think, then okay.”

wonwoo slows his movements, and stares at you.

oh.

oh.

oh, fuck, that’s hot.

“well, if you say so,” he leans over, tilts your head to give you a kiss, before opening the drawer to grab a condom. “you’re gonna kill me.”

“at least fuck me first.” you joke, and wonwoo chuckles at that, pushing up your sweatshirt to expose your back. he kisses down your spine, and you hear the rustle of the condom wrapper. wonwoo adjusts your body, and you almost feel like a cramp coming on, but it’s okay—

“ready, baby?” wonwoo asks lowly. you nod against the pillow. “words, sweetheart. may i have your hand?”

“mm, yeah, i’m ready, are you?” you put your hand around your back, and you feel wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“yeah, i’m putting it in,” wonwoo says, and you feel the tip prod against your entrance, and you bite back a moan before he slowly inserts himself in. you squeeze your eyes shut, gasping against the pillow, remembering to take deep breaths. you need a moment to adjust, but the stretch alone feels wonderful. “you okay?”

“y-yes,” you exhale. “fuck, i feel all of you, so, so much.”

“fuck, you’re so tight.” wonwoo groans, slowly bottoming out. “need a moment?”

“yeah.” you let yourself adjust to his cock, as wonwoo rubs your back (his way of helping you relax). a minute passes, and you start to feel good, inadvertently moving your hips back to his. wonwoo moans, and it encourages you to move faster against him. “f-fuck, oh my god, please fuck me, you’re so big—”

wonwoo finds himself moving his hips fast, a hand gripping your hip, the other pinning your wrist behind your back, as you gasp on how loud, wet, and hard he’s going. as hard and fast-paced his thrusts are, it remains concise and controlled. you hear him groan the more he thrusts into you, and you briefly look back at him, seeing him fling his head back in pleasure. god, it feels so good, the sounds of skin slapping grow louder, breathing out of sync, you feel so full, so fucking full, your head is starting to get dizzy—

your senses come back when wonwoo slows his pace, and you whine, tightening around him as a means to get him to move.

“nuh-uh, don’t come just yet,” wonwoo tuts, shallowly thrusting in you. “i’m not done with you.”

“w-what, fuck! oh my god, please go harder,” you tell him, feeling drool come out from your mouth, and wonwoo lets go of your hand, gently placing it above your head.

“so, so, impatient,” wonwoo slaps your ass, watching you fuck yourself on him. he continues to let you fuck yourself on him, his frame swooping down so he can whisper. “so needy for my cock, hm? didn’t know my baby is such a needy, little slut. look at you fucking yourself on me. i haven’t even fucked you stupid yet, and look at you being so needy for me. my baby is such a cute little whore.”

“wonwoo, please move,” you breathe, looking at him with glossy eyes. wonwoo continues to stare at you with lust and endearment, all while shallowly fucking into you. “i want you so much, ahhhh fuck, please, please.”

“hm? what was that?” wonwoo coos, and you whine even more. you feel like crying. wonwoo rubs his hands down your side. “oh, baby, it’s okay, i’ll give you want you want. wanna tell me what you want?”

“y-you, please.”

“just me?”

“want you to fuck me til i can’t think.”

“that’s it?”

“wanna be y-your cute little whore for you.”

and that’s all it takes for wonwoo to remove himself out from you. you wince at the loss of him, as you feel tears in your eyes, but he steadily grabs you, flipping you on your back. he pumps himself, spitting on his fingers and they go down to your pussy, playing with your clit with his thumb and wraps your legs around his waist.

“keep your legs wrapped for me, okay?” he says, using his long fingers to play with you. “can you do that for me?”

“yes,” you nod, and wonwoo peppers soft kisses around your neck and face. “wonwoo?”

“mm, baby?”

“can you spit in my mouth again?”

“oh, fuck, yes,” it catches wonwoo off guard and you find it cute how flustered he got. “i can, yeah.”

“good,” you nudge his back with your leg, telling him to start moving.

“ready?”

“mmhm- ah, fuck!” you nod, but wonwoo slips inside easily, holding onto your hips hard, fucking you at a hard, controlled pace. “oh my god, fuuuck, fuck!”

wonwoo smiles, watching your expressions change accordingly. he takes in all of your noises, expressions, all of you, how you ask to go faster, how you’re trying to fuck back too, how you’re willing to make it good for both of you. wonwoo takes a hold of your hand, putting it above your head. he gets caught off guard when you put your other hand up, and wraps his hand around your wrists, pinning them against the sheets.

“fuck, baby, you’re so tight, your pretty pussy loves taking me in, hm?” wonwoo whispers, and his free hand creeps up on your neck, but doesn’t add pressure on it. “open up.”

you oblige, and you feel him twitch. you tighten in instinct, as he lets spit drip down from his mouth to yours, and sticks his tongue in your mouth to push it in again. you moan at that, eyes going shut, all while wonwoo fucks harder and harder and harder. you feel nothing running in your brain, it feels numbing, feels exhilarating, you just feel yourself get lost into the pleasure and the praise wonwoo kisses on your skin. you numbingly hear him say words and words of i love you, can’t believe you are all mine, fuck you’re too good for me, come for me, your senses get blurred out, like your feeling everything all at once, and you don’t know when but you feel yourself unravel, coming undone as wonwoo finishes too, hips stuttering.

“baby…” wonwoo sighs against your lips, hands cautiously rubbing your sides, while putting his body weight against yours. “come back to me.”

“mmrgh?” you make a weird noise, feeling warm and a little light-headed. you hear wonwoo telling you to take deep breaths, and you use your hands to hold onto his shoulders. kisses and kisses and kisses of you did so well scatter across your skin like a cluster of stars, as wonwoo strokes your head with a comforting touch. “wonwoo?”

“m’ here baby, i’m right here,” he says, carefully slipping out from inside you after he softens. “i’m here, are you here?”

“yeah, sorry,” you finally collect yourself together, staring at the ceiling. wonwoo shifts on the bed, rolling over next to you to discard the condom, and plops next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist. you look over at him, lost in his bright eyes, and fucked out glow. “you did it.”

“wha?”

“you fucked me stupid, i don’t remember thinking at all.” you laugh. wonwoo’s face turns more pink, and he grumbles into your neck, kissing a spot or two.

“was that all okay?” he asks, stroking your head with one hand, playing with your hands with the other. “we did a little experimenting tonight.”

“it was good, yes, thank you,” you tell him, stroking his cheek fondly. “kinda wanna do more of it, you know.”

“oh.”

“oh my god, don’t act like a shy boy when you fucked me with your big dick.”

“i’m…” wonwoo get even more shy, and you laugh, kissing his nose and his cheeks. “just wasn’t expecting that, that’s all.”

“is it a lot for you?”

“no, i’m glad you trust me, and that i’m able to trust you.” wonwoo says, rubbing your stomach. “we should clean up.”

“eh, i kinda wanna lay here.” you say, sort of sprawling out on the bed. you stretch your arm a little weird so it ends up across wonwoo’s body. “too tired.”

“baby, you work in healthcare. didn’t they teach you to pee after sex?”

“i work in an eye clinic!”

“well yeah! same idea! it’s still healthcare! i’m getting you to clean up.” wonwoo says, slipping out of bed and grab his sweatpants. he slips it on, and goes over to your side, but you start rolling away, not wanting to get out of bed. “baby, don’t do that.”

“i want to cuddle first,” you say, not bothering to fight back when wonwoo grabs your body to carry you to the bathroom. “i feel like jelly.”

“good, that’s what i intended,” wonwoo kisses your face when you wrap your arms around his neck. “we can cuddle after. what do you want for breakfast?”

“eggs. toast, if we have bread. do we have bread?” wonwoo shrugs . “uh, coffee? oh! and maybe fried rice.”

“you work tomorrow?” he asks. you shake your head. “good, we’ll sleep in, eat breakfast, you wanna go play stardew valley together?”

you grin, giving him a kiss.

god, you love him so fucking much.

[bitchlessdino]

Thank You, Secretary Lee

Pairing: chan x f!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.6k

Tags: business au, secretary!chan, CEO!reader, mentions of alcohol, power dynamic, kitchen sex, oral (receiving), unprotected sex

summary: Being a secretary was more than a job to Chan. It was being a right-hand man, a partner, and a dog. To lee Chan, being your secretary is a way of life.

author note: personally requested by and header by @chogiwapadada I love the header and l love the request. And thank you @wonwussy for beta reading and helping make this look complete. It’s been a little bit since i wrote full Chan fic and just to remind you guys the Chanrot never stops!!! This was a little business proposal inspired obviously, title inspired by what’s wrong with secretary Kim. Office tropes are honestly one of my favorites. Enjoy guys and a heads up. In a few weeks from now I’ll be out of the country for a little over two weeks so I’ll be in a semi hiatus. I won’t be as active posting comments but I will occasionally reblog and such. An announcement will be made closer to the date.

Everyone congratulated you as expected, while some wallowed in their obvious envy, assuming your achievement come out from sheer nepotism. That didn’t bother you in the slightest. You knew how you got where you there. You thrived knowing you’re the youngest female CEO in the company’s history, overpassing your brothers and sisters for the position, and dedicating a decade of your life to be where you are now. No one was going to take that feeling away from you.

In your well-tailored pantsuit, the clicking of your heels echoed in the empty halls before entering the familiar cubicle area of your subordinates smiling, fake or not, it didn't matter. You thank them in your own pristinely shaped smile, eyes on only one thing and one thing only: your new private office. Your wide-eyed spectacled secretary follows your every move rhythmically, walking a respectful distance behind you, greeting your subordinates just the same.

Just as you’re about to enter the peace and quiet, you’re surrounded, bombarded on whether you’d be celebrating along with the rest of the company.

You gave a CEO-friendly smile and declined, letting them know you have a business to take care of long after the work day. However, you insist that they can all eat on behalf of you on the Company’s Treat, sure that one of the Executives below you can stand in your place. They all cheered after the sound of free food and alcohol, saying you’d be missed, and graciously roused, shouting your name like an athlete shooting the winning basket. 

You hold your hand up in thanks, reminding them it’s still working hours to return to their duties, and finally are able to seek refuge in your office, your secretary closing the door behind him. You sigh in contentment seeing your plaque. You approach your desk with a genuine smile, dragging your finger over its shiny surface before walking behind the desk and taking a seat in your chair.

Secretary Lee stands to the side from a distance, hands joined politely at your back quietly observing you. “I take it’s to your liking.”

You nod, caressing the leather exterior of your swivel chair. “It’s perfect.”

“Is there anything you need before I return to my desk?” 

You grin at him, “That’ll be all.”

The rest of the work day goes by without a hitch and most of the employees leave to get that free dinner, with a select few heading homes instead, you being one of them. You pack up your things and shut down the desktop. You trod out the door, stuffing documents in your briefcase, and notice that your Secretary is still on standby at his desk while most people are long gone.

“You’re not going to the dinner, Lee?”

He turns to the sound of your voice, an emotionless ‘ah’ leaves his lips in realization, as if he just remembered that was happening, “I was going home today. Wasn’t sure if I wanted to be around a bunch of drunk middle-aged men tonight right before the weekend.”

“Fair,” you chuckle at his honest answer, “We can share a car then. We’re heading to the same building.”

“We both bought a car,” he points out, putting away his important belongings.

“I can leave mine behind, it’s safe here.”

You follow him out to his car, taking the passenger seat naturally, and take on the road quietly. You sit comfortably near each other, your attention on your phone sending emails, and Secretary Lee laser-focused on the road and not a peep from him heard. It stays this way until the end of the car ride, soon reaching the parking lot of your mutual apartment building. You walk out of the car and head to the elevators together to take the lift up to the mutual floor before you separate to go to your respective residences.

“Have a good night,” you tell him, hand on the door handle.

He stands in front of his door, only several feet away from your door, and smiles back at you politely, “You have a good night too.”

You disappear from each other simultaneously, matching even the shutting of the door. You store away your blazer in the hallway closet, loosening up the articles of clothing for a more comfortable and less stuffy fit. Even if it was a successful day at work, it was a day at work.

Your subordinates may have loved the idea of food and drinks all paid for but what did you have to benefit from such an event? You already kissed all the ass you could. You were done impressing, you were riding now your highest high. 

You smile to yourself washing off the lather of the grime you built up over the day. The steam of water flushes your skin, having you sigh from its warmth. When you got out of the shower, relief follows as well as a doorbell. You quickly throw a robe over your wet body, hastily tying the knot around your waist, and you beeline to answer the ring.

On the camera intercom, you see a familiar face, both friendly and bearing gifts. You greet them at the door at once, knowing all too well his gaze couldn’t help but linger. Whether it was on the sliver of cleavage peeking out of your robe, the droplets falling to your soft, wet skin, or even how that robe hugs your body to show off your silhouette. 

“Wine, Mr. Lee? How thoughtful.”

The visitor chuckles, pushing up his glasses to the highest point of his nose, “We’re out of the office now. Please, call me Chan.”

“Come in…Chan.”

You leave room for him to enter, not without his eyes briefly scanning your body until he hears the shut of your door. “Let me get dressed. You can drop the wine off in the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

“As you wish.”

You get ready in a timely manner, drying most of your hair and covering what was important and leaving out what wasn’t, before taking a calm stride to the kitchen to see Chan’s back towards you pouring glasses of wine enough for just the two of you. He hears your footsteps, holding one glass out to you. “Cheers to your new position, Ms. CEO.”

“Now you’re the one formal with me,” You smile, accepting the glass graciously, clinking it with his, and letting its bittersweet taste hit your tongue as Chan did the same.

“I like the sound of it. Ms. L/n. It’s…sexy.”

He swirls his wine by the stem, flitting his gaze in at your body in a thin, little camisole and shorts, a single silk robe covering your arms and shoulders that tied loosely from your body, coordinated in red; the most powerful of colors. He feels tension in his trousers, shifting the space inside so it's just a little less noticeable. “Women in power are truly amazing.”

He finishes his wine to the last drop and is quick to pour himself another glass and helpful in refilling yours. You reach out to grasp the hem of his dress shirt, although he had removed his blazer, he failed to free himself from the restraints of the buttons. One plastic piece at a time, you begin to reveal the toned, and smooth surface of his pectorals, practically bursting through the thin cotton fabric.

“So excited to see me, you couldn’t even change out of your work clothes? At least loosen up your shirt here.”

He takes a step closer to make it easier for you, staring through his lenses at the eyes fixated on his clothes before they quickly lock with his, ruffling his shirt until it pleased you. A hint of a smile on his face, gregariously accepting your attention. “That’s better.”

“Don’t think it'd be better off? Like how things were back then when you had all the time in the world for me?” He sly suggests.

You scoff, lightly shoving him off and taking a sip from your wine, that cocky smile on Chan’s face showing no sign of faltering. “You hoped I’d come over, didn’t you?”

Your secretary was proud to be reminding you of your past. Despite having broken up the more times that the number of fingers you have, he stuck in the history you have. From college students, to interns, to the executive positions you now hold, he’s found several ways to come back to you. He’s worked just as hard, if not more, just to keep you in his line of vision. You’ve watched him climb the ranks, surpassing you in every way until now with you topping him in the highest rank possible. He was a thorn in your side, and that made him the most diligent and loyal person you knew. Lee Chan is the perfect secretary.

“Have you not eaten,” you decidedly change the subject, “we hadn’t gotten home that long ago.”

“I like working up an appetite before I eat,” he answers, his hands settling on your hips, “I know you’d agree.”

Your breathing makes an uneven shift, letting yourself drag your feet closer to him, “You like it.”

There's evident pride on his face, “‘It’ as in what’s happening? Yes. Yes, I do.”

“I mean the roleplay, being a good, helpful, efficient little righthand man to me,” You find purchase back on his shirt, thumbing over its cool material, “So you come back to me and treat me however you want after a hard day’s work?”

“It’s part of the fun, but, I like being by your side.”

He directs you to the presence of a kitchen counter, digging your backside into the edge of the counter, and instead of drinking the rest of his wine, he drinks your lips. Languidly, he kisses you with vigor, his teeth occasionally catching your bottom lip. Your arms rest on the structure of his shoulders, eyes shutting as you clench the arousal between your legs. He parts only briefly, the transparent lenses fogging up and the metal frame grazing the tip of your nose. “But that’s second to having to do whatever I want with you.”

He seamlessly reconnects, hiking up your bare legs to his hip, and the stiffness of his bulge pokes your stomach. A hand runs up his hair, tongue tasting the fermented grapes, admittedly sweeter on your secretary. He pulls you up from the ground to place you on the kitchen counter, your thighs bracing its cool marble surface. His pretty hands fingering along your inner thigh, his index and middle digits pressing on the wet spot of your shorts.

“How ‘bout it?” His shallow breaths against your lips, “Should I stuff you until you’re crying my name? Or should I let the wet, glossy cunt answer for you?”

A grin spreads wide across your face and you shake your head no. Instead, you grip the back of his head, tugging him inches away from you, a soft whine leaves his lips. You push him down by his shoulder and he falls limply to his knee. Both your hands play with the tips of his hair, angling you at your clothed cunt, butterflies zooming in his stomach. He watches you with wide eyes like a helpless puppy.

You stare back domineering, “You almost forgot that it’s my day, hmm? I’m in charge now, Lee, and I say you get to eat.”

You tug him at the center of your core, watching him lick his lips. He pulls up his sleeves, pushes up his glasses, and parts your legs wide enough just for his head. He fingers at the hem of your shorts, snapping his elastic.

“Hey!” You exclaimed.

“I should at least get to play with my food, right?” His head dives to the center of your stomach, pulling apart the robe strap from his mouth, pulling at its end, and watching it fall loose around your sides. He does the same with your shorts. His breathing tickles the patch of your abdomen, and he catches the top hem expertly between his teeth, dragging over your thighs and past your calves agonizingly slow. If there was a time to kick him, it’d be now.

He makes up for his teasing by pinning your thighs on the marble, planting his tongue flat against your panties, and running a thick stripe against the fabric. He lets out a deep chuckle when you whimper, smiling up at you knowingly because although you tower over him, he had the manual to pushing your buttons.

He kisses your wet spot, lips pressed against you, groaning between your thighs. He engorges on you like there isn't a silk wall in between, digging his face deeper, breathing hot breaths until he could feel squirm.

“Chan,” you call out achingly, “eat me out, jerk.”

“But I am,” he retorts in a sinister tone.

Your hands go on to grip the counter in frustration, “You know what I mean…I want your mouth on my pussy…please.”

He obliges, not without rewarding himself that is, slipping your panties down normally before stuffing them in his trousers, “I’ll consider this your white flag.”

He thumbs over your folds, your arousal glistening and seeping out of your cunt so scrumptious. “This pretty pussy looks good enough to eat.”

He takes a sample, licking inside your walls like it’s what's left of a yogurt cup. You were thick as honey. His tongue flicks up your clit, his spit streaming down your slit before his mouth devours with all he has in him. “So sweet…”

Laughing maniacally, you feel the hot pressure of his latched in mouth clash with the cool metal of his frames pushing against your clit. You hold him there by his hair, once molded by wax in perfection to be ruined by your ungraceful control, rutting yourself with his face.

Your eyes flutter open and shut, the tension in your stomach builds up with every lick, and you feel yourself slouch down the cabinet behind you to hug him closer. Your whines never-ending, you grip his strands harsher, his high-pitched gasps slip through and tickle your entrance.

“Mmh, like that. Doing…so…good.” 

Chan could feel his frames smush up against your warmth, losing oxygen but relentless to feel the gush of your nectar coat the inside of his mouth and swallow what couldn’t fit down his throat.

Moaning out when he flicks his tongue at three times its previous speed, you clutch him against you, ankles crossed behind his head, hips thrusting in his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

Ivory honey fills the insides of his cheeks as your thighs hug their outside perimeter. In a few moments, you have none left in you to cum and you loosen your grip. Chan detaches himself from you, gasping for air, breathing against your heat, but not for long as he reconnects with another pair of lips. His wet cheeks are covered in a mess of his salvia and your climax as he stamps against your face, meanwhile, his tongue lets that same concoction fall in your mouth, generous with sharing.

He parts from you and thick translucent ribbons stretch from both your faces, Chan is proud to see the vicious liquid dribble down your chin as it does his. “Well, aren't you a good little mess?”

You snicker, “Speak for yourself. How do you even see with those on?”

You refer to the glasses kept on the entire time, stained with tonight's recent events: fog, cum, and all. No wet cloth could wipe away that. He lets out an amused laugh, quick to toss it away in the sink, finally revealing those pretty brown eyes. “Happy?”

“As much as I like seeing covered in my cum, you need to be cleaned up a little bit more.”

You tear away a paper towel from the wall, dampening it from the sink, and use it to wipe up the rest of his face. He smiles through your gesture, keeping a piece of your robe between the pads of his fingers. “Not too thorough, I’m not done with you.”

He has you tossing the wet napkin away, distracting you with a kiss, taking your hands, and guiding them to the opening of his shirt. “Take it off for me.”

You follow through, dropping it to the floor with ease. You gingerly trail your hands over his tight body, flushed in anticipation and lust. You admire his build without looking, involuntarily drooling as your lips ghost over his. Your legs hook around this torso, pulling him against you before whispering, “Your turn.”

“Gladly.”

One arm at a time, he drops your robe down the counter. He feels up the skin under your camisole before he slides it above your head and it hits the floor with his dress shirt. He lets himself get lost in the surface of your skin, smoothing down your curves and edges. Hands falling to your breasts, reminiscing in their weight, bounce, sensation. He bends his head to kiss a bud while thumbing over another, eyes turned up at your gaze. “You look nice in pants suits, but I think seeing you naked comes a close second.”

His tongue drags around your textured skin, perking up your nipples, and feeling the tension in your eyes that stares back at him in anticipation. “When will you be naked then?”

A corner of his lips raise, dropping from reaching down to his belt buckle, slipping them out of the loops, playfully wrapping around your torso for a quick tug so your chest could make contact with his. A giggle emits from you, kisses peppering over your cheeks, admiring you up close from his poor vision. “I missed you.”

Your arms rest over his shoulders, your chuckles raising hairs on his back. “We live next door to each other, we work together. You’re gonna be seeing me every day.”

“As your secretary,” He answers promptly, dropping his belt before cupping your cheek and holding on to the small of your back, “or your creepy neighbor.”

“I wouldn’t be doing all this if you were only those things to me…I want you, Chan. Every side of you.”

“I want you too. I’ll be sure to be the loyal dog you want me to be.” He jokes with genuine intentions.

You thumb over his cheek, a chaste kiss on the top of his nose, “then take me on the floor.”

Your legs stiffen around him, giving him the strength to lift you from the counter and gently let your body reach the ground. The cool tiles startle you initially, but the warmth of Chan's presence overwhelms you to the point you forget the cold. He quickly tears away his bottoms, his cock revealed hard in his hands. He kisses your lips, gazing at you with a familiar glint of love in his eyes. “Protection?”

You run your fingers through his hair and allow him to part your legs away from each other. “I said I want all sides of you, didn’t I?”

“Yes ma’am.” His lip quivers.

You feel the raw tip of his cock, tease along your ready slit. Like they never left, your lips together follow a familiar pace and his cock eases into you like a missing puzzle piece. Your arousal welcomes him, coating his length deliciously as he takes your legs and presses them against his sides. Your faces as close as they possibly could be, he grinds into you, letting your walls hug his girth. Your erecting nipples roll between his fingers, teasing you at the perfect pressure.

His tongue fights back yours with gumption, rutting in you to the sounds of his own grunts, your moans following shortly.

“Your pussy feels so good…taking my cock…so good…”

“Mmh…Lee…fuck me like that,” he sees you bite your lips before you lightly knock your head back on the time, back slightly arched.

“Yeah, you like that?” He eggs, “my cock fucking nice and full.”

“Yes, Lee…god…more…more…”

“More…all for you.”

The back of your thighs clashes against his hips repeatedly like cymbals, sporadically twitching at the sensation of him fucking you in and out. Your forearms stay grounded on the tile, head banging in the air and you clench possessively, confident with every praise leaving your secretary swollen pink lips.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Come here.”

He pulls you up from the cold ground and presses you against him, his legs folded at the knees, which touch the ground, and his arms hold you up. He proves himself reliable as always, pushing his hips up in you as your legs latched on him like a leech. You swallow down your drool, you feel one of his hands squeezing your ass as the other handle your waist.

“I’d…fuck you…all night if I…could…Perfect for…me…”

You lose your sense of reality limply following Chan’s lead. You push your hips deeper in anguish, the heat of your breath meshing to become one and he feels you shake uncontrollably, obviously holding back another climax. “Chan…Lee…Please…”

“Wanna cum…Again…” A hint of pretension was fresh on his tongue.

“I want…please…cock so…mmp–Good…” Tears swelled up in your eyes, overstimulated but unsatisfied. “Cum in me…fill me…I’m–”

“I promise to you, I will.”

He muffles your cries, hand in your hair, pumping his load deep and full inside you until you’re practically dripping down his thighs. Inside you is warm; it's perfection. With a final fully extorted thrust, he stays inside you, wiping away your tears and stroking your back. “So good for me…Do you want me to draw you a bath?”

You weakly nod, “Please, and maybe help me clean in here?”

He softly smiles. “I’ll make sure to do so. Anything else?”

You shake your head.

“Ms. L/n,” He speaks with clear anticipation, “You know I respond well to positive feedback.”

You roll your eyes before scoffing, combing through his rat nest of hair.

“Thank you, Secretary Lee.”

[moyokeansimblr]

Update

Not feeling so hot and I'm not going to do anything impulsive at 8PM on a Friday evening but

here is a link to a sfs folder with ALL of my content that's currently only hosted on patreon.

I want to add individual sfs links to the tumblr posts but that's a lot and I'm now regretting never adding alt dl links this whole time... and sorry I don't think the downloads in the sfs folder are in order... it also might be some other things, like fixed meshes or stuff. tbh I just added everything I've made after April 3rd 2023 since that was the last time I uploaded anything to sfs.

I guess while I'm here... I was going to wait until after I finish up the last of my active requests (probably by Monday, I'm almost done) but I desperately need a break from CC. I sent a group message on the 17th to my $4 and $6 patrons encouraging them to cancel, but I know not everybody knows patreon even has dms so maybe you'll see this post and I'll reach out again in the coming days so nobody is wasting their money. I am so immensely burnt out and I need to not create for a while. This is completely my own fault, nobody made me work on CC for 8-10 hours 5 days a week for the last several months and I fully knew it wasn't sustainable ages ago but I kept doing it because it made me feel good, until it didn't. Quite honestly, even before I sent the group message the instant wave of relief I felt just having made the decision to take a break... that caught me off guard but just confirmed I need this. I do feel really awful about it because I feel like I'm letting people down but at the same time I don't want to hate creating which was already happening. That being said, I don't know how long the lull in CC is going to be, and if you're only following me strictly for CC I apologize. As said I am still finishing up one request I still had, I'm about 75% done with that as of this post. But that's gonna be it for a while.

There is a part of me that wants to stop using patreon completely and unpublish my creator page (which is what I'm not going to impulsively do tonight without properly thinking it through...since there are positives like how easy it is to download files and whatnot) but I'd again encourage not only those who joined the $4 and $6 tiers but also the $2 tier to cancel so that you aren't wasting your money. If I did do this I would definitely do the individual sfs links on everything first. I'd not just leave you guys unable to download my stuff.

So, what does that mean for this blog? I'll spare ye, impatient readers, who have already read a lot because I ramble⬇️

Well, as of posting this I still have THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR Strangetown posts in my queue. And I'm not tired of playing that.

I'm looking forward to having an opportunity to do all of the things I've been neglecting. I'm finally going to go through the subfolder within my downloads of everything I'm downloaded the last few months and decide if I wanna keep it in my game or not. And finish default replacing everything. And all my other various little projects I haven't been doing.

Also, I want to start playing Veronaville 😮I've already started downloading lots from kattaty to replace the in-game ones, and I found a cool replacement for the neighborhood map. I am leaning towards making a new sub-blog for this so that you don't have to try and follow Strangetown/LFT posts and Veronaville/ALT posts at the same time. I've only ever played the Veronaville sims for like one day as part of a super failed megahood years ago so I'd like to get to know them.

So basically, I guess I'm a gameplay blog for now? Until I want to create anything again anyways, but I don't know when that will be.

I don't know how to end this post... I'm sorry for the disappointment, but thank you so much for enjoying my stuff 💛💛

[chaoticallywriting]

A Merciful King ☼ Chapter Two

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader

Warnings: mentions of assault, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of violence and death.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N:  I originally posted this series on TheGreensWhore. Unfortunately I got shadowbanned on there so I’m reposting all of amk onto here and will be posting further chapters on here instead of there.

Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.

Previously || Next

The next morning was a different type of nightmare. Anxiety riddled your bones as you peeled away from him, climbing out of bed at the first ray of light with a wince. Your hands were shaking as you redid the bindings of your dress and smooth down your skirts and hair before making a break for it.

At this early hour, the only ones awake were guards and very few servants. You only hoped that your diligence was enough,spending weeks after that night praying to any god that may hear you for forgiveness… and maybe a little luck.

The godswood became a place that you spent most of your time, occasionally even bringing your little brothers with you. In those days you tried to teach them of the old Valyrian gods and the ways of your ancestors, but it was obvious that the septons teaching them had already begun to plague their minds with that of the seven.

You felt like a foreigner in those moments. You had no one who cared about your ancestors, not anymore. The ways of your people were being wiped out, leaving you to wonder what Aegon the conqueror thought of it all.

You had heard that Aemond would read extensively about old Valryia, but you scarcely saw him. He had arrived a few days after Aegon’s assault, smelling of her and trying his best to ignore your presence. When you had desperately tried to bed him once more, he left the room, claiming he was tired.

It left you feeling panicked, you had even tried to ply him with wine, but he seemed to understand your motives and had yelled at you before flying back to Harrenhal a day earlier than what was intended. You had cried that day, sitting on the floor of your bedchamber, for you knew you were doomed.

You couldn’t trust anyone in the castle. They got rid of your supporters and confidants the second your grandfather had died, leaving no one to ask for moon tea. Your nerves frayed every moon that passed, your bleed refusing to come.It was a quick assumption, but you were always on time and have never missed a bleeding since your first blossom at the age of twelve. Aegon had succeeded and you were doomed. Soon the handmaidens would notice and probably let Alicent know.

You weren’t a fool to think she didn’t have spies in the castle, only an idiot wouldn’t, and she was a very smart woman. She played the game successfully and almost everything had gone her way. Most of her family still lived, unlike yours, and the kingdom would remain in her bloodline.

You had one handmaiden you did trust, Lila. She was always gentle with you in the mornings and was the only one to try to talk to you when readying you for the day. She had even tried to encourage you with Aemond whenever he’d stay in the red keep, reminding you of your beauty and position. You know it’s thanks to her that you always have the freshest honey cakes and why there was always candied lemons in your room. Lila made it all a little bearable, and you came to consider her as a friend.

It was why you had sat her down one-day while the rest readied a bath for you, your voice that of a whisper, “I need you to do something for me, but you must promise not to tell a soul.” Her eyes widened at that, you hardly asked for anything these days, and never once have you been so serious when doing so. “I need a vial of blood, it does not matter which kind or from where, but I need it by tonight, and I will need one every night for the next five days.”

You usually only bled for that long, something she must have picked up on because her eyes glanced down at your stomach. Lila was a smart woman, that much you knew. Part of that scared you, but you hoped you could trust her, she was the only one you could count on to do this.

You gently grabbed her hands, holding them in your own and desperately looking into her eyes. You could hear the other handmaidens finishing up and knew there was not much time left.

“Please.”

Lila nods, her face grim as she pulls her hands away from yours and stands. “I believe your bath is ready, your grace.”

The water is warm and smells of citrus and sage, a smell you’ve always liked. You spend far too long in the water, head leaning against the metal rim and staring off into space. You’ve felt so tired lately, and you know it must be because of the babe in your belly.

By the time your handmaidens successfully get you out of the water, you find your skin pruny and hair tangled. They made quick work of both, and you find yourself in one of the few gowns you can tolerate, a square collared forest green dress that shows off your shoulders and collarbones.

After the assault, you had dressed yourself until the bruise on your neck faded. Only wearing high collared dresses Alicent had made for you. Now with all the evidence gone, you let the girls primp you as they would every day, fixing a wrinkle here or there and dabbing a light pink cream onto your cheeks.

After your surrender, Alicent had a new wardrobe made for you, one filled with modest dresses in varying shades of green. Your favorites out of the collection were the few that reminded you of before. They showed some of your skin and made you feel like you could breathe, you only assumed Helaena had to be thanks to that, for you knew Alicent hated those dresses.

You used to love the shade of green. You often admired your Uncles and Aunt’s clothes as a child, and often found yourself dreamily looking at the deep green leaves on a tree. There was beauty in such a natural color, but not anymore. Now green plagues your nightmares, reminding you of the decimation of your family. The beheading of your mother and your imprisonment. For what was all this if not a jewel speckled prison?

It was almost funny that they had to dress you in green. It was as if they feared if you looked like a true Targaryen once more, a rebellion would rise up. How scared they were - fearing more unrest if you wore a red dress.

Up until today, you’ve avoided Aegon at all costs. It was relatively easy since you only left your chambers to go to the godswoods with your brothers. Such a holy place had no room for the debauchery that Aegon liked to commit to, so you never had to worry about him there.

But today you had to tell him of your pregnancy. Perhaps since it was only midday he would be somewhat sober, or would just be waking up. Maybe he’ll have a clear enough head to realize the predicament he’s put you in. The walk to his room was quick, he’ll just be waking up, so there won’t need to be any worry about him being elsewhere.

A guard announces your presence to Aegon before you enter and closes the door behind you, trapping you with him once more. You have little time today, no doubt Alicents spies have already spotted you entering her son's rooms.

Aegon’s room is a mess, as usual. Clothes are strewn about from the day before and there’s an empty pitcher on the floor that you kick as you walk over to his bed where he lazed. He blinks up at you when you stop by his side of the bed and smirks.

“Well, hello, come back for more?” When he reaches for your hand, you take a hasty step back, memories of that night playing in your head. All the nights that followed that fateful event have been plagued with thoughts of him. Despite your struggle, you find your dreams filled with lust as they replay that night over and over again. You don’t understand yourself anymore.

“I’m pregnant,” you deadpan. You wring your hands out as he sits up. Aegon smilies a mischievous smile as he looks you up and down, eyes stopping at your stomach. “I-I tried to get him to lay with me or at least get drunk enough to make him think we did, but… He wouldn’t let me.”

The room is silent as you begin to panic, your resolve crumbling. He doesn’t seem to get how detrimental this all is for you as he reaches for you once more, grabbing your hands and pulling you to the edge of his bed.

“He could have my head, o-or punish my brothers. Everyone will know this babe isn’t his and that I am…” you squeeze your eyes shut, beginning to shake as you feel yourself get more worked up. “I am a whore now.”

“I’m glad he didn’t touch you, I meant what I said that night.” His hands come up to cup your cheeks, pulling your face down to his, you try to pull away, but he just tightens his grip. “You are mine now, I wouldn’t want him touching what is mi-”

Alicent storms into the room, interrupting whatever he was saying. Within seconds, you finally pull yourself away, using his surprise to your advantage. Even with you several steps away from him, the scene before Alicent could still be compromising. You only hope she sees you as the victim in any assumptions she might make.

She stops as she takes you both in, you think you notice a brief flash of relief pass through her features, but it's quickly masked with annoyance. She walks over to the bed that Aegon has now sat up in and sighs.

“Aemond is back, and he’s not happy,” she starts, eyeing you before continuing. “He found out about the delays.”

Delays? You furrow your brows and try to seem interested in your hands while listening, hoping that if you remain quiet, they’ll somehow both forget you're here.

“Well, maybe he should have thought of the consequences of avoiding his duties-” He glanced at you before getting out of bed, his sheet wrapped around his waist. “I’d like to point out that not even I did that.”

Ahh, so whatever it is about you. She rubs her face before letting out a deep sigh. “Then we must sit him down and talk to him. Put on clothes and meet me in my apartments. I’ll have Sir Cole fetch him for me…” she glances at you, and then him. “Y/n, come along.”

You follow after Alicent, casting a glance to Aegon as you both leave. He began to slide his sheet off at the sight of your eyes, beginning to smirk as the door slams shut. You can tell your cheeks are flushed and find yourself shaking your head to make your hair hide your face.

Thankfully, she stays a step or two ahead of you the whole time, muttering to herself about the nonsense she must deal with. Upon entering her apartments, you find yourself hesitantly taking a seat on one of the benches, hands clenched together on your lap. Your heart is pounding so much that you fear that she can hear it as she takes a seat across from you.

“I’m surprised to have found you in my son's chambers.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you glance up at the queen mother, trying to find some type of lie that she might believe. But she’s smart, you know this, and you find it hard to come up with the right words.

“I was…” You take a shuddering breath, “I was asking the king to consider an annulment, but he seemed against it.”

Alicent’s eyes widen, but before she can say anything Aemond enters with Sir Cole trailing behind him. He looks between the two of you, taking in her shocked expression and yours of guilt. He probably thinks you’ve caused her grief, which isn’t far from the truth, but whatever this meeting is about cannot be because of you.

You remember first seeing him all grown up when you came to hear about the petitions for Driftmark. Your mind consisted of girlish thoughts regarding his handsome features and drifted into what ifs. The night of the family dinner, you even found yourself sneaking glances at him now and then. All he did was scowl in your direction anytime you two shared a glance.

“Mother?” He walks up to her bench as she stands and looks her over. “I was on my way to see grandsire, Sir Cole said you had something important to say?”

She touches his cheek, letting out a deep sigh before nodding. “Yes, why don’t you have a seat? Aegon should be here shortly, and then we can discuss the news.”

She gestures to the spot beside you, which Aemond begrudgingly takes. It’s a rather long couch and yet once he sits down the distance between you two seems to lengthen. Each of you is seated on either side, with enough space for one or two people to sit between you. A picture-perfect couple, if you say so yourself.

The uncomfortable silence that follows thankfully doesn’t last long because the king finally arrives with a goblet in hand and clothes on his body. You find a piece of yourself sad about the latter and mentally scold your dirty mind for such an indecent thought. All of you rise and get formalities out of the way, your eyes never meeting his for fear that somehow it would give away your thoughts.

Aegon looks between you and Aemond and smirks at the space between one another before sitting down on the same bench as his mother. He slowly takes a sip from his goblet and raises his glass to Aemond.

“Such a lovely couple, don’t you agree, mother?”

Alicent looks up at the tapestries behind you before sighing. “Not now Aegon.” She directs her attention to Aemond, sometimes glancing at you and occasionally picks at her fingers, she’s tense and maybe even a little scared. “We have been delaying Alys’s Ladyship and also the legitimization of her bastard.”

Aemonds jaw clenches, his hand tightly gripping the armrest while he stares at his mother. The love and care that were once in his eyes are now muddled with unbridled rage.

“Why?” His voice is low, but there is no mistaking the anger laced within such a small word. “Harrenhal is currently a mess, for she technically holds no authority. You are allowing such a thing to happen for wha-”

“Maybe because you won’t stop fucking her?” Aegon smirks as Aemond scowls at his brother and goes to stand up. You try to grab his wrist to keep him seated, but he shakes your hand off. Your cheeks flame with embarrassment, and anger flashes in Aegon’s eyes at the sight. “You can’t even let your own wife touch you, and yet you expect us to give your mistress Harrenhal?”

“I did not ask to marry this traitorous bitch! Alys was with child when you forced this fate on me, we could have easily cut her head off or fed her to Vhaga-”

“Enough!” Alicent stands, pacing around the room with a hand on her forehead. “She is your wife, and you will not talk about her in such vile-” -she turns to him sharply, finger jutting out in warning, “ways!”

There are tears in your eyes. You hadn’t noticed them till they had fallen, leading you to hastily wipe them away. Mentally cursing yourself for such weakness, you weren’t the strongest of Rhaenyra’s children, but you had been the kindest. The nicest and most optimistic, according to her.. It’s what made you too weak for war, Daemon would say.

“We will only give her Harrenhal if she marries Sir Garth Hightower. We will also legitimize her bastard. If not, we will give Harrenhal to Sir Reece Rivers who is next in line after Alys. If she accepts these terms, then you will have to stay here and no longer visit Harrenhal, and become a good husband to y/n.”

He’s speechless, hand clenching and unclenching the armrest as his mind wandered, but there was no mistaking the way his jaw clenched.

“She is the realm's delight, Aemond! All love her, and all they have heard are things that anger them. Before the war, she was paraded between regions to bring peace and… the north remembers. The letters from Cregan Stark never cease! We cannot go on like this, or they will rise against us again.”

Cregan asks about you? No one told you about his letters. Your heart soars at the thought of him trying to look after you. There was a brief moment in the war when you were betrothed and had even found a friendship with him while courting. But the war ended before the wedding came, and now you're here, married to someone who is still very clearly your enemy.

“Then give her to Cregan,” he stands and gestures to you. “She's still a maiden from my understanding. Give her to him so Alys may marry me,”

Aegon smirks into his goblet at his brother’s words, finishing it off before setting it on the table and looking between Alicent and Aemond.

“If we give her to him, he will rise up to put her on the throne, whether she wants it or not. If we kill her, all will riot, even the small folk.”

“She is not my duty, my honor does not lie with her,” he whispers to his mother, who frowns and walks up to cup his cheeks. “My duty lies with my son, you can’t keep him from me.”

You frown, hand lightly rubbing your stomach at the mention of children. You don’t know if you could take being separated from your future children. Likewise, you fear you may become one of those overbearing hens who breathes down their necks, but you’ve lost too much already.

Unbeknownst to you, Aegon catches the movement and smiles softly. He wishes he could openly tell them all of your pregnancy and how it was his, but knows he can’t. He might not mind chaos, but he knows you don’t. He’s tried with Maelor, but the poor boy is scared of him. and anyone who isn’t his nurse maid and Jaehera has hardly said a word since the assassination. Opting to stay in silence like her mother.

He tried with Helaena after everything, maybe he’ll tell you that, so you know not to feel bad. You seem like you’d be the type to feel bad about something like this.

“The world knowing he is yours will only bring him harm. He has no dragon, and he is not in the keep to watch over. Having him far away from you is for the best for you angered so many people in the war.” She places her forehead against his own, taking a deep breath in and out, which he seems to follow. “Think of Jahaerys.”

The mood shifts from tense and hostile to somber at the mention of the poor boy. You abruptly stand at his name and face the window. Feeling sick at the mere thought. You’ll never forgive Daemon for such an inconceivable act, nor will you forget him using Lucerys’s death as the reason. He seemed proud when the letter came in confirming the young prince's death, and all had fallen silent in horror as he told the war council the news.

Lucerys would have never condoned such a thing. He had a good heart, and despite not liking his uncles, did not have an inclination towards violence. That night in driftmark had mostly occurred out of self-defense from both sides.

“Fine.” His voice drips defeat as he pulls away from her, plopping back onto the couch and staring off into nothingness. You turn to look at him and sigh.

Alicent walks over and places her hand on his shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. “You cannot go back to Harrenhal… As well as your grandsire and I believe a bedding ceremony needs to take place between you and lady y/n.”

Aegon does not hide his outrage well. He scoffs and leans against the couch, “If we do that everyone will know they have not already done so.”

Alicent glances in his direction, her features hardening. “Everyone already knows, we will have a maester oversee it.”

Aemond says nothing, not a single sound. He simply stares at his hands and nods. This must be what defeat looks like on the great kinslayer. He does not wear it well. You know his heart must be broken, but you selfishly hope that perhaps he will find comfort in you with this new-found loneliness. Perhaps he will finally see this marriage as his duty and honor it as he has done with everything else.

“I will be there for it as well, the king should be there for such important matters.” His voice is hardened and barely containing his anger, shaking a bit at the end, and you know he’s trying hard to control himself. It shocks you, him containing himself and his words. Your eyes widen in horror as you stare at Aegon, his mother simply sighs his antics but nods along. Whenever he pulls the king card, she seems to give in, most of the time.

“It will be tonight.”

Alicent nods and pulls away, most likely to make the preparations for such a thing as his words sink in.

Tonight.

[shadowbriar]

Anthony Lockwood - Vulnerable Headcanon

Notes : I have never done headcanons before, bear with me if this is not up to your expectation. If you like this post and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Anthony wasn’t the type to be vulnerable about his feelings. Having to survive the cruel world alone from a young age, Anthony’s found comfort in keeping his troubles to himself.

Oftentimes it boosts his ego. How things eventually fall into place, even if he has to improvise and be just reckless enough to see it done, at the end of the day he would always come home with a bright smile.

Being close with Anthony doesn't mean that he would show his troubles easily. Most times you would have to play riddle and decipher his hidden meanings because he’s just too used to keeping things to himself and his ego often gets in the way of him admitting his worries.

The first time he’s ever shown his vulnerability would be out of accident. Perhaps a mission went wrong or a fight happened between him and the others. You heard his silent sobs at the library in the middle of the night, but let him be as you weren't sure if he would be appreciative of your sudden barge in.

You tried to talk to him about it the following morning. Making sure he knows that he can always come to you and find shelter, but he would always only reply with a nod and a smile. He never wanted to make you worry about him.

Until one day.

There was a soft knock on your door. It was a peaceful night, some time after a big mission was successfully done and everyone went home with bright happy smiles. You thought everyone was neatly tucked on their bed, getting that very much due rest they have been lacking lately, but there he is, Anthony, standing by your door with an unsure smile.

Even when you greet him with a gentle smile and soft call of his name, Anthony still felt like he was bothering you and began to ramble “Forget it”, “Sorry for disturbing your sleep”, “It’s nothing” and trying to flee out of the situation.

It was when you took his wrist that he calmed a little, stopping vomit of nonsense excuses and took a deep inhale.

“I don’t know what to say or what to do, but would you be willing to join me at the library tonight? Your presence calms me.”

Ever since that night you’ve been spending more time talking and enjoying each other’s company at the library. There are times when you find yourself fallen asleep and waking up with a blanket covering yourself. Anthony always made sure that you were properly taken care of whenever you fell asleep there.

Some time after the countless nights spent at the library, Anthony begins talking about his past. About his memory of his parents, his little sister, his childhood, things he has never shared with anyone before.

Sometimes he would be crying, sobbing as the memory washes over him and you would have your arms embracing him for support. You both would be in such a position for hours, oftentimes falling asleep and finding each other held close as you wake up in the morning.

Anthony had never had anyone to share his burden with so vulnerability has always been something he tries to bury deep inside. He has trouble expressing his intentions so most times you would just hold him close until the storm passes and he could find better ways to convey his message.

It would be a long way until he could be comfortable in expressing his burden but he was willing to learn and you’ll be there, guiding and holding him close through each battle.

[finnsbubblegum]

I'm Not Me When I'm With You (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, protective joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s), ptsd, mentions of rape attempt (lmk if i missed any)

Summary (Series): You were popular in Jackson but you have been single your whole life. Despite many men flirting with you, you have never found your ideal type. Until one day, you saw Joel and you fell in love at first sight.  But he felt insecure.

Summary: Joel was late to walk you home but then he made you dinner and even danced with him. 

Words count:  1k

A/N: This is part 3 for I Don’t Deserve You series. Sorry for the long wait, I just finished Becoming Mrs. Miller series so I finally have the time to continue this series. Hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Joel had never been late to walk you home from work. But today, he was late. You had waited for more than an hour in your classroom for him but he hadn’t come. So you decided to walk home alone.

“He probably has something important to do.” You talked to yourself. 

Joel wouldn’t ditch you without a reason. You trusted him. He was a good man.

It was getting dark and you were getting goosebumps. Since Josh’s incident at your house, Joel had never let you walk home alone. But today was an exception. 

“Okay.” You took a deep breath before you walked out of the school.

You were still traumatic to what happened. Your body felt tense as you walked slowly. Hugging yourself hoping to get a feel of calmness. You slowly moved your eyes to look around making sure no one was following you. You started to feel sick, sweating, and trembling. 

You gasped and swiftly looked behind you as you heard a sound. There was no one. It was just a bird.

“Phew..” You exhaled and patted your chest.

It took 30 minutes to walk from the school to your house and you couldn’t wait to be home. The way to your home alone was exhausting. You continued walking, walking, and walking. Your goosebumps got worse, you had a hunch that someone was following you. You wanted to check and look behind you but you were too terrified to move. Your heart was beating faster and you didn’t realize your steps were getting faster. You saw your house was not far away from you so you started to run and close your eyes. 

“No! No! Please! Just let me go! Please!” You hit the man you bumped into. 

“Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s me. It’s me. Joel.” It was Joel.

“You okay?” Joel held both of your upper arms and his thumbs moving in circles. 

“Uh-I-” You panted, tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Just breath, it’s okay, just breath.” He guided you to inhale and exhale until you were calm enough to speak.

“Did something happen? Tell me.” His eyes were worried.

“I-I think there was someone following me.” You panted and told him.

“Okay.” He moved you behind him and he looked around.

“No one’s here. You’re safe.” He didn’t see anything suspicious.

“Can you bring me home, please?” You pinched the fabric of his jacket on his upper arm.

“Yeah, yeah. Come here.” Joel put his arms around you and dragged you closer to him.

You put your head on his chest and walked to your house. Joel sat you on the sofa and made you a warm tea.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I got an emergency call from Tommy saying there was..That’s not important. I’m sorry, baby. I promise it won’t happen again.” Joel apologized.

“No, no. It’s fine. So, what happened?” You totally understood him.

“Nothing. False alarm.” Joel shook his head.

“That’s good right. Better than something bad happens.” You stroked his upper arm. Joel chuckled at your positive mindset.

“I’ll make dinner tonight. Just get some rest.” Joel groaned as he stood up from the sofa. You nodded.

You turned your body and rested your chin on top of the back pillows. Watching Joel making dinner for the two of you. 

“Like the view?” Joel chuckled as he prepared you dinner.

“Uh-uh.” You smiled. Joel shook his head.

“Stop staring at me. I can’t focus.” 

“I can’t. I’m trying to keep this picture in my memory.” You put your hands on the sides of your head.

After dinner

“Do you want to watch a movie? The TV works.” You didn’t want Joel to go home yet.

“Yeah, sure.” 

“They have a lot of DVDs. The person who lived here must have loved watching movies.” 

“Have you ever watched this one?” You showed Joel a DVD.

“Dirty Dancing? No, I haven’t.” 

“Okay, this one then.” You turned on the TV and put the CD in the DVD player.

Joel sat beside you and put his arms around you. You rested your head on his shoulder.

*credits-scene*

“So, can you dance?” You teased Joel.

“I used to.” 

“Show it to me.” You nudged your nose to his jaw.

“No, no.” He was too shy to dance.

“Come on.” You took Joel’s hand and dragged him to dance with you.

He sighed. You started dancing even though your moves were stiff and weird. You didn’t care as long as you could make him laugh. He threw his head back and laughed. 

“Your turn.” You asked him to dance.

He was shy at first but then he started to move and made funny facial expressions. You laughed so loud you could feel your stomach bursting. You had never seen this side of him.

Video from cocoullrich on Instagram

“You won, Joel.” You laughed holding your stomach.

“Promise me you won’t tell anybody about that.” He moved closer to you. 

“Depends.” You smirked.

“On what?” He put his arms on your waist.

“How you behave.” You kissed his cheek. 

“Do you know what you have done to me?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“What?” You tilted your head.

“I’m not me when I’m with you. I’m a totally different person.” He gave you a peck on your lips.

You smiled and he kissed you again. The kiss was getting deeper and his hands started snaking under your shirt. You gasped when he tried to unbutton your pants. The memories from that night, the night when Josh tried to rape you came back all over again.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stopped his hands and stepped back.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Joel took a step back.

“No, no. It’s not your fault. It’s just that-that night when-” You tried to explain but you couldn’t find the words. You were panting.

“No, no. I totally understand. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” Joel slowly moved closer to you. 

He looked at you waiting for signs to make sure you were okay with him touching you.  He extended his hand, you nodded and he hugged you. 

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed your back in circles and kissed your head. 

To be continued…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @stevengmybeloved @happinessinthebeing @angelicbbsblog

[jaylikesrainbowtigers]

I’m trying something a little bit new today. A positivity post because I feel like shit now. For those of you who don’t know my ex broke up with me two days ago and I didn’t really feel anything about it. Turns out I had just numbed my feelings until it hit me on my dog walk today. So trying positivity to make me feel better.

@intothedysphoria is where I got the inspiration to do this. Max makes positivity posts when he feels down and it’s something I admire so much. He also writes such good disabled Harringrove content. Like I don’t even ship it and here I am liking all of the posts because I love it all. And he has been so kind to me on discord when I vented about the breakup. I know right now is a rough patch for you, Max but I just want you to know that you kind of feel like a positive force that teaches me brilliant chaotic gremlin things. Thank you for that!!

@hargrove-mayfields is so amazing too. EJ, you were the first person I have truly interacted with online for any fandom ever. I couldn’t have asked for a better person. You have been nothing but sweet and lovely to me, and though you don’t see my jumping up and down frantically whilst waving my hands in the air every single time we interact and especially when you let me get my grubby mitts on a fandom event (again), I kinda want to let you know I maybe do that. So thanks EJ for being amazing.

@skutter We have never interacted but this is a post to make me happy so I wanted to tag you. I really couldn’t believe it when you shared one of my posts for the first time. Because you are like the only other person who blogs about Red Dwarf I could find. And I barely get to ever talk or do anything about Red Dwarf with anybody my age because I’m really the wrong generation for classics like that but oh boy, your posts bring my so much happiness when I see them. Thank you so much for helping me indulge in a silly little brain rot I have.

Also tagging @shieldofiron, @carito-dorito, @salthat, @peachyaliien (who tumblr will not let me tag despite me literally opening her blog), and anybody else on the @disabledbillyandsteveweek discord (check out that tag for stranger things content) who let me be a bit of a mess over there.

A final thanks to my irl friends Abi and Ciara who will probably never know or see this post. You two have been so amazing over the past few days and I am so sad we are all leaving this weekend down our own paths. We will meet again at Christmas when we return from the land beyond (England is that hour plane ride away beyond). My DofE besties who have been with me for so long, I can’t wait to go out tonight which you two arranged beautifully just for me.

Ciara and I have been friends for 14 years, and boy have we been through thick and thin together. We might no longer be as close but I will always remember you for being my first crush and my closest childhood friend. Also the legend who said in response to my I think I’m autistic said yeah, we all knew that.

Abi, we met later but we have been inseparable since. From chucking things at each other, to me making fun of your height (you aren’t *that* short, our friends and me are just tall), and to being the crush who made me realize oh shit, I’m gay.

And to the frankly hilarious coincidence named Jay. You bastard. Why did Ciara have a crush on you and then Abi went on to date you now. Do I have to expect my ex to date you soon? Do I? Will you haunt my romances for evermore?

Anyway thank you to anyone who actually bothered to get up to this point. I see why Max does these now. I feel better.

[kinnus]

Oooh I have an idea if your not too busy:) a post prison prompt were beth has a fear of thunder storms and she tries running to maggies cell buts its dark and she ends up in daryls and practically jumps on him.

Thank you for the prompt! Replying to fic requests again after 8 years, he we go :’)

Beth’s fear of thunder storms had faded away in her pre-teen years, back in the days before, when her mother could stroke her hair and tell her softly that seasons cycle and rain was cleansing. Beth hadn’t jumped at the sound of thunder since she was twelve. 

So why, now, at the age of eighteen, was she hyperventilating as the sky boomed?

It was a late night. The rain hadn’t even started pattering onto the prison until everyone had been long asleep. Beth reasoned that her anxiety was due in part to the fact that the storm had woken her up from a terrifying nightmare - one where her mother ambled towards her, rotting, eyes red and glazed over. She’d woken with a start at the first crack of thunder. And now, for whatever reason, she couldn’t seem to settle the aggressive race of her pulse.

“It’s only thunder,” she insisted softly to herself, taking a deep breath. “You’re fi-”

Another burst just outside the walls made her gasp and nearly hit her head on the bunk above her. She curled up, pulling her knees to her chin, and tried to cover her ears. But as soon as she shut her eyes, the unwelcome image of her mother’s decomposing face stared back at her.

Beth hopped out of bed and hurried, barefoot, over to the cell where she knew Glenn and Maggie would be asleep. The prison being pitch black didn’t help her navigation. The moon was obscured by rainclouds, and though Beth tried hard to adjust to the thick darkness, she couldn’t seem to position herself. The floor was cold and hard, and with the continuous slam of rain, she could only feel her own increasing fear disorient her.

Despite her best efforts, she could feel tears start to wet her cheeks.

After rushing around in the dark, Beth could finally feel the steel bars that would indicate her sister’s room. Stealing her way inside, she reached blindly in the dark for Maggie or Glenn. Her fingers met skin and she gingerly tapped it, but without warning, a hand grabbed her wrist and she gasped.

“Who’re you?” A sleep-heavy, deep voice demanded.

Beth fought against the grasp around her wrist until the voice registered to her. “D-Daryl?”

Immediately, the hand released her. “Beth?” She could hear the figure sit up in bed. Daryl was on his feet in a flash. “What’s goin’ on?” He blinked against the darkness and moved towards his crossbow.

Beth sniffed and hastily wiped her tears away. “I’m sorry, I thought this was Maggie’s cell. Everythin’s oka-” Thunder boomed directly above them and Beth let out a heavy gasp, stumbling into Daryl. He caught her by the arms and seemed to process the situation.

“You was lookin’ for Maggie?” The drowsiness in his voice gave way to consciousness. After a beat of silence. “You scared of thunder storms?”

“I just had a nightmare,” she mumbled, embarrassed. Her eyes finally seemed to adjust to the dark and she could see the figure of Daryl just before her, turned sideways, having stepped back after catching her arms. “I’m sorry for wakin’ you. I’ll… I’ll head back.” In spite of her best effort to sound put together, her voice was shaking.

Without warning, Daryl reached out and placed a thumb on her cheek, directly on the wet spot where her tears had pooled. Silently, he drew his hand back and pulled out a rag, nudging it at her.

Beth, ashamed, accepted the offer and wiped her cheeks. Another clap of thunder sounded and she fought against the natural gasp that surfaced, but in its place an violent shudder left her body.

“Mkay, Greene,” Daryl muttered conclusively. Beth could feel his hand on her elbow first, then on her back, gently ushering her towards the bed. “I got a bunk. You stayin’ here tonight.”

Beth could have protested but she didn’t. She was tired and scared, and there was no safer cell in this prison block than Daryl Dixon’s.

“I’ll take top bunk,” he said once she’d sat on the bottom.

“Wait,” she reached out, the tips of her fingers landing on his arm. “Can you…?” She trailed off, embarrassed at her own request but desperate for company. Her mother used to stroke her hair and talk with her to drown out the thunder. Daryl didn’t need to do all that. In fact, he didn’t need to do anything for her. But Beth knew she wouldn’t be able to rest unless someone was near.

Daryl seemed subtly surprised at the unspoken request. He bit his lip in contemplation, staring through the dark at the faceless figure of Beth, before grunting a short, “Mhmm,” and settling in bed next to her. 

They sat stiffly upright against the wall, shoulder to shoulder.

For the next tense thirty minutes, sounds of the unyielding rain, the occasional burst of thunder, and Beth’s smothered gasps filled Daryl’s cell. He’d unsurely put an arm around her for comfort, settling into the position when she accepted the touch and melted into his side. Before long, she was asleep.

Daryl waited for the right moment to untangle himself and head to bed. But for some reason he wasn’t tired anymore. He felt like there was nowhere else he was meant to be other than right here, holding Beth.

-

Beth awoke the next morning, the sun having cleared the Georgia clouds out of the sky as if last night never happened. She lifted her head and tried to orient herself. She was in her own cell, in her bed, with the covers pulled over her. She pushed herself up and peered around, her gaze falling on the sight of Daryl sitting on the floor right by her bed, his head rocked back against her mattress, eyes closed, arms crossed. Just behind his head, pooled up besides her own pillow, was the rag he’d given her to wipe her tears.

[alex-rambles]

Possible tw.

Honestly I think they use that tag to convince themselves that they aren’t supporting unhealthy and wrong things and yet their posts prove otherwise. It reminds me of ppl who are like “I’m not racist. Buuuuut..”

Also ik I’ve never seen you before but I can assure you that there’s nothing wrong with your body. Yea social media and other people might try to convince you that there is but honestly more than likely they’re just doing that because they’re insecure with their own bodies. And besides, no one is perfect. Even the most beautiful person is insecure of certain parts of their body too. Even William lololol. And since you���re young, its normal to feel this way but trust me, whenever you get older and you look back at pictures when you were the age you are now you’re going to be like “wtf?? What was I so insecure about? I literally don’t look as bad as I thought.” And I know its difficult with your dysphoria and other people but you‘ll get through this. And all the fighting and efforts will all be worth it in the end. You just need to know that you’re worthy of love regardless of how you view your body and that you do matter along with your wants and needs. And idk if you’re planning to have gender reassignment surgery in the future but if you are, ik you'll get there even if your family and others aren’t supportive of it. It’s your life afterall. You get to decide what to do with it and if that makes others unhappy, so be it. Alr I kinda sound like a boomer but yea you’ll get through this even if you don’t think you have it in you to continue. Just believe in yourself and know that you do matter regardless of what others may say.

Wow. Thank you for this post, seriously. I am really hoping that this is just a sleep deprivation thing because I've been sleeping worse and the bad thoughts tend to get worse when I don't sleep. Unfortunately it doesn't seem like it this time, as usually those just involve me looking at m3ansp0 boredly.

I actually needed this a lot, and you mentioning my beloved PIECE OF SHIT made me appreciate it more. I'll read this when I get a good night's sleep (hopefully tonight) and use it as my little positivity reminder.

Seriously you are a blessing anon I love you.

[fictionalstorybyme]

⬆️ THIS IS JAHN i get the text at 7:44PM from a number i was expecting a call from.

i know you were expecting to hear from my roommate Jahn, but he’s delayed at the airport and won’t be here until 3 or 4 am

the thing is we are not strangers, we were classmates a couple of years ago, I was Jahn’s roommate at the time. I know you preferred the not so muscular look that i’ve put on, but we hit it off well and planned to maybe hang and chill in the future, but you and Jahn hit it off really well and i didn’t want to make a possible real feeling catching situ into a romp of sex only, so i made my self scarce whenever you guys did your thing. And i was proud that i saw that it was a honest shot at something as it was plenty of equal distribution of dinners, both the chill and intimate versions. Movies were a thing of beauty as you

hated each others likes and negotiated so ferrously that the anger and energetic passion was draining in a way that was better than (at a minimum as good as) going all-in pun intended and rocking till creation was inevitable except for the science that says it cannot be, but the fun was worth the effort. You did so unconventional and unplanned flow going that it was a revelation to those of us who love Jahn for we’ve been mates and our clique that’s been solid for a mind boggling 90% of time here on this, the third from the sun. Like yourself we are enjoying the finality of being a teen-age unless the they make 20 into teen-limit plus one. Now I know you guys are not exclusive and Jahn says his slim, dynamic body that you crave so much you’ve been counting the minutes till it and he gives you a deserving hallucinate to the outer limits of the Twilights Zoneexpetienve as he’s been boning up on (no pun, well maybe, yeah it’s a cool one so pun indeed is intended)so that his stamina and erection and that hardness that only you get him to for an Epic Fuck of the ages. He thought that maybe i could do a pre-warm up to really unravel you because by the three hours of my tongue activity plus his enormous penetrative prowess may eventually allow for a tag team 24 hour workout that may blow our minds and peckers out. So, i know ive made it a mansplaining explanation but i thought since it was going to be posted online, readers and perverts would, if i tantalized it correctly a satisfactor mind blowing mind fuck just reading and if i can get my words to have you bust a gut from the teleplay, i can literally print the cash. So, to decide here is a picture of me now and in aware I might just be too muscular and that’s my bad and no reflection on you, I swear.

i didn’t want to cheat by giving you the love of my adorable cuteness that i know will win you to say yes and then be really upset because my body isn’t as great. I admit my face is so much that the slight body you’ll forget until it’ll feel like in mauling you and I don’t want you to be freaked out when Jahn arrives to take his rightful position as your main squeeze.

Jahn testing for the long wait and longer ride home. i know you’ll probably forgo my recommendations, and I’ll be pleased when you say thanks but no thanks. it’ll be a relief and maybe some incentive to find somebody as cool as you. i really mean it. So thanks for indulging in my little bit of Jahn approved fantasy. Perhaps you’ve given me a new career as as a weird erotic sex author that achieves the distinction of being just a fan of yours and of Jahn, it must be so amazing when he goes into those fucking frenzied chaotic zones and has it reach up to but not finish, an ultimate Edging fanatic that is wild. it’s so good, we may ask permission to allow which of the erratic no holds bar he busts on. Could be a cash cow for those that have studied these maneuvers. Thanks, Wendell and maybe you’ll allow me to be the warm up act, if not tonight another time.

[escapism-express]

sparkle day 🫶✨

as I'm typing this I'm sitting out under the carport at my partner's home (where I basically live too), listening to music with my best friend. we've been 🍃💨, and the rest of our group (our partners and two other friends) are off walking to the construction site down the road to see if they can take scrap wood for a fire we're planning to have tonight.

it's warm today. the high is in the 80s, but a nice breeze is keeping us cool since we're out of the sun too. my best girl (we'll call her Rin) and I are working on the launch plans for our small business. I'll share the details of it some day, but if anyone here is local they'd know who this account belongs too & I don't plan on making that public information lol. I'm going to be talking about my life a lot, but I'm going to be careful of the details that I include. when I start writing, my content is likely not to be the most SFW all the time.... and I don't think I want many who know me in reality to be reading that stuff, or know the it's 'me' behind it 😂.

anywhore, none of that was the point of this post lmao.

I struggle with a lot of mental illness, and chronic depression is one of my main issues. it's been a lot of years since I last felt happy for a majority of a time period. right now, in this moment, I am feeling so much joy. it's the same joy I've been feeling a majority of the last few weeks. I know that the weather finally being nicer has a lot to do with it, but the people that I have in my life right now and the things that I'm spending my time doing bring me such immense levels of joy, it's almost overwhelming.

I'm very used to having big feelings. both positive and negative, I've sorta always felt everything very largely. it's just sort of a newer thing to feel joy so widely, connected to so many people and things, and over such a long period of time. I don't know why I chose today to share this with you, maybe it's because today is such a good example of what brings me joy.

I've been drinking now, (we're all over age, so it's okay 😉) I've been typing this post on and off for a few hours. Rin & I went to get her doggo, Loo. The others left again a bit ago to get more booze & some hotdogs to cook over the fire they're going to start when they get back since it's dark now. Rin & I are listening to music & just vibing right now, but I feel so damn good... I'm just so happy.

while this post is partially to document my happiness, for those dark moments so I can be reminded of days like today. the main point is to remind both myself and you that the dark days come to an end at some point. whether what's clouding you is seasonal, chronic, OCD (like me), PTSD, anxiety, or something else... there is a light at the end of the tunnel and there are people out there that are made for you. I promise. your sparkle days are coming, my love. 🫶

have a wonderful evening, my loves 🫶

[otter1962crystalball]

An Injury that has set me back...

September 9, 2022.

I started back at school this week. It may well be my last year teaching as I will turn 60 at the end of December. I began this blog because my life is changing. I believe that is heading in the right direction.

This is my third blog about my life journeys. I know that there are going to be some positive things to write about as well as bad. I think that I shall endeavour to temper the balance between the two.

I’m sitting here staring at the computer screen and trying to figure out what it is that I want to share.

The thing that comes to mind is an injury that has hit me hard and made my self-esteem suffer. If I were to look at pre-injury pictures, I would see my chest about two inches bigger.  Last year, I tore my right pectoral. It was a bit of a surprise as it didn’t hurt when it happened. 

Now, when I lift my right arm, my pectoral muscle moves over towards my arm. It looks really odd and I find the sensation a little disconcerting. It aches too.

I know that there are gay men out there who would tell me to stop complaining and be happy with what I’ve got. It’s not so much as what I look like now but how I feel about it. I’ve always weigh-lifted for myself before all else. I did my share of posing when I was younger. However, since I got over my cancer and then dealt with COVID and now this injury, I feel like my body has taken a beating and it has affected my self-esteem.

So now is when I cue the nay-sayers. There would be the person projecting their crap on me when they say that I should be happy with what I got. They tell me this because there is often something in them that makes them want to project their issues onto me. Well, they can go ahead and say that. If they have body dysmorphia, I’d turn around and say I am talking about suffering from a loss of mobility and the ability to train my chest. It is not really about vanity and the need for validation.

I’ve been a weightlifter since 1980 and it has been an important activity for me. To lose some of that is heartbreaking. It’s like when I tore my Achilles Tendon in 2017. I’m not able to push my legs like I used to. I would also not be able to teach all my old classes like Kickboxing, Bootcamp, Spin Classes, step, aerobics, etc. That saddened me too. 

So, I guess the issue is dealing with the loss of the things that I used to hold close to my heart - getting major cardio workouts, powerlifting and more. Is it permanent? I don’t know at this point.

So, here is what I am doing about this chest injury. I had an MRI and I am waiting to hear from my family doctor and a surgeon. I may be up against a healthcare system in Nova Scotia that may tell me that they can’t operate. I’ve researched the operation and it is done quite a bit in the USA and elsewhere in Canada. I may have to pay a large amount to have the operation.  I just don’t know at this time. 

Another thing I am doing is not getting down on myself. I see so many people on FaceBook and elsewhere who are so bloody negative. I don’t want to sound like that. I am looking for positive things and writing this blog is a start.

I couldn’t find an example photograph, so I am going outside my comfort zone and including two pictures of myself. One standing with my arm down and one with my right arm up where you can see how the right pectoral muscle has moved over to the right. Showing these pictures really makes me feel vulnerable. The pictures for some reason are a little distorted in Tumblr, but you get the ideas of what I am facing.

I’ll be posting more information when I know more from the surgeon.

Carpe diem!

PS. I got this really great response from my friend, Barry, after he read my post:

Was reading a bit of your blog tonight. I guess as a contemporary your thoughts resonate. Reaching that age where we start thinking of our mortality, of mourning the loss of things we embraced so strongly and really made them a part of how we view ourselves. Their passing is a loss of part of how we see ourselves. So hard yet I realized as writing this that it’s a blessing. A chance to FINALLY experience and know our true selves. It’s hard on ego too. Suddenly we cannot rely on muscle as a part of how we present ourselves (and it was SO successful) but now we need to find new ways to attract light. This time I think it will be much more authentic and MUCH BRIGHTER. Your time (and mine too I hope) is still ahead as we recreate ourselves.

[bisexualmormon]

03

It’s been a very long time since I have been here. Life has been just a roller coaster for me. Yeah, cliche, I know. But I’m getting through life. Long story short, I moved, graduated college, now work in healthcare, came out to my mom and siblings. So that cat is out of the bag. Oh, and I have two pets. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression and am now on meds to keep myself together. I feel so much better, but those insecurities are still there. Especially with the current climate that is out there. 

The Trump years were not easy. I am already in a strained relationship with my father, and he is in the camp that Trump was ordained by god to be president. It was hard to hear him talk terrible things that were full of such hate. This is the man I looked up to as a kid. And now we just don’t talk. I don’t want to talk about the details leading up to it, but our relationship isn’t all that great. When I was still in Utah, I was having panic attacks (which I didn’t know where that), and it made it so much worse that I knew that I couldn’t ask my dad for help during those times. But I am focusing on positivity right now. Positive that everything will work out. 

Today wasn’t so patriotic. Everything stressing me out about losing control of my body is taking its toll. My mom did buy us notorious RBG shirts, and so I wore mine today. Still wearing it. Funny how a piece of cotton can give you strength. At work I had a coworker who said that me and other women at work were over-reacting. My coworkers know that I am LDS and that I practice and go to work, but yet I am gay and I am pro-choice. I don’t like talking about religion, especially at work. I usually let that stuff go. Then my cousin (E) and his boyfriend (S) came over to watch Rocky Horror Picture Show. Before we watched it, S and I were talking about church videos we grew up with, and I mean the cheesy VHS tapes. E didn’t grow up in the church and later converted so he had never seen the cheese. S mentioned that he loved Saturday Warrior. My Turn on Earth has not aged well. Oof. Found it on youtube and it was so hard to not have the cringe face. I remembered one of the opening songs, I Have a Plan. Guy in the red cap takes the role of Lucifer (who has the much better verse than Jesus btw) and that’s when it hit me. 

“I will force them to live righteously”. 

I played the My Turn on Earth vhs tape so hard when I was a kid, it’s a miracle it still works (yes, I still have it). I was taught in my household that it is a divine right to make choices. God doesn’t force people to make certain choices. Jesus didn’t walk around forcing people. We have the ability to choose. In my head, forcing choices on people is sinful. It’s Satanic if you want to think about it in the terms of that line from a corny musical written by Carol Pearson and my man Lex de Azevedo. I could go on a tangent how that man sculpted my entire LDS childhood but that is a different story for another day. 

Moral of the story tonight is choices are good. 

I had written a much better blog post in my head while in the shower. Gonna try to get back in the swing of the things so that I can post here for me. If I am going to keep avoiding trying to date since I have no self confidence, least I can do is work on myself. Lol. Do the kids say that anymore? I got old fast. 

A.G.