#its bad and messy I'm going to put it out there

[dauns]

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Mystery bugs in my home and I don't recognize them! I've seen a few around at this point and might make a more formal post about it tomorrow but, mystery bugs below the cut if anyone wants to take a shot at helping me ID them:

Not the best pics but it's got an abdomen with clear markings that make me think either roach or earwig, but photos of the nymphs of either don't seem to be matching up; granted I only looked for maybe 5 minutes and mightve missed something obvious but this guy's not ringing any bells for me

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[dyns33]

Symbiosis

I missed Eddie x reader with silly Venom being in the way. Can't wait to see what they'll do in the next movie.

From the beginning of their relationship, Y/N had noticed that there was something different with Eddie.

She might have thought that it was because he was somewhat famous that he behaved eccentrically, sometimes talking to himself and seeming very agitated for no reason.

Without ever really bringing up these oddities, Eddie had been very honest with her about a lot of things. His childhood, his dreams, his ex-girlfriend, the loss of his job before becoming a journalism star again, his little problems with cleanliness.

"I mean, I'm a very clean person… Normally. All the time ! I wash twice a day, I take care of my teeth, I don't like living in filth but... Sometimes I'm not at home for a long time, and I'm totally focused on my job, and the stress… So, if I can seem a little dirty and messy, I'm sorry, I will never ask you to clean up for me and you can tell me that I stink by patting me on the back of the head. Yes, on the back of the head, I deserve it." Eddie muttered at the end of his sentence, looking to the side as if he were talking to someone else.

"I don't think you're dirty. You sweat a little sometimes, but that's natural."

“You’re saying that because you haven’t seen my apartment yet.”

“Does that mean you want to invite me to your apartment ?” Y/N asked, smiling shyly.

"Of course ! No, you don't… Of course, Y/N, I've been wanting to for a long time."

The presence of chickens was a little surprising, and it was true that the apartment was not in very good condition, but it was a bit like her idea of a bachelor pad, and it was quite reassuring to think that Eddie didn't often bring women home.

It meant something important to him, a sign of trust.

But that certainly wasn't the greatest evidence. No, this evidence took a little longer to emerge from the shadows, or from Eddie's shoulder, after a month of relationship.

Precisely the day he couldn't hold back the first "I love you."

The spontaneous, charming statement came in the middle of the small talk, and Y/N felt very happy, ready to respond that she loved him too.

It was then that the thing appeared between them, looking furious, showing its large teeth.

"No ! Eddie, no, you can't do that !"

“Oh, God, what is that ?!”

"Vee ! Vee, you promised me, man ! You're going to scare her ! And you have no right to interfere in my love affairs, go back inside ! Y/N, sorry, I'm really sorry, I’ll explain !”

“I have the right to give my opinion !” the creature replied, turning to Eddie. "You're ashamed of me, of us ! Anne accepted us ! Anne likes us ! If your new little darling doesn't accept us, then she's not good enough !"

“Anne didn’t really have a choice and we weren’t together anymore, stop talking about her all the time !”

After more or less managing to calm down the "non-parasite" that lived inside him, Eddie did his best to calm down Y/N, who was totally freaked out by what had just happened. He explained to her that Venom was an alien, a symbiote, who needed him to survive, who had helped him on numerous occasions, and who was not dangerous.

"I'm very dangerous ! I'm the lethal protector !"

"What does he mean ?"

"Nothing ! Well, he likes to fight crime, he's dangerous to the bad guys. You have absolutely nothing to fear, I promise. I… I'm so sorry."

Eddie then began to sob, despite all the comfort that Vee tried to give him by telling him that only losers cried like children and that he was pathetic to moan like that, putting them to serious shame.

Even though she was still scared, Y/N couldn't help but hug her boyfriend, trying her best not to touch the alien. She repeated to him that everything was fine, that it wasn't his fault, and that even though this situation was strange, she still wanted to be with him.

This seemed to reassure him, and make him very happy.

Unfortunately, there were three of them in this relationship, and Venom clearly didn't want to be with Y/N at all.

It was him that Eddie had been mumbling to since they met, often arguing about her, as the alien kept comparing her to Anne, his ex girlfriend.

Without any sign of lying in his eyes, he promised her that he hadn't been in love with her for a long time. Their breakup had been difficult, but she had found someone very quickly, Dan, a great guy, and they were married now, and Eddie was very happy for them.

Well, that wasn't easy to believe with Venom growling and hitting his host's head at the end of every sentence, insulting Dan and repeating how great Anne was.

But Eddie seemed really honest. He was friends with his ex, nothing more, and he wanted to be with Y/N now, even if his idiot parasite didn't agree.

He wasn't an optimist by nature, too much had happened to him in life for him to believe in miracles, but Eddie wanted to believe that Vee would come to appreciate her.

He was quite confident as Y/N was doing her best with the symbiote, trying to talk to him, offering him chocolate, keeping an open mind. Many people would have fled the moment they saw this thing coming out of his body. It was quite a good sign.

But like a wild animal, Venom refused to be coaxed. He wanted Anne, Anne was perfect. Nothing would change his mind. Nothing.

"He hates me." Y/N whispered sadly, even though she knew it was useless, because Venom was always with Eddie, even when she couldn't see him. None of their conversation was private.

"Hate is a strong word… He's stubborn, he believes he's right. It's not really against you. If I had always been single, I think he would adore you."

Eddie thought it would be a good idea to introduce her to Anne. In a sense he was right, because it was evident that there was no longer any romantic feeling between them, and that she was very much in love with her husband.

But Y/N couldn't help but do like Venom, and compare herself to the other woman. Beautiful, intelligent, great lawyer with a strong character. It seemed natural to fall for her.

If he sensed her discomfort, the journalist said nothing, spending the evening laughing with the other couple only keeping his hand on her shoulder, putting it back each time Venom forced him to take it off. He was kind enough not to ask her what she had thought of Anne, or if she was reassured. Maybe he was afraid of the answer too.

After that, things got a little complicated. Without doing it on purpose, Y/N put some distance between them. To protect herself, because she only thought of one thing.

One day, Eddie was going to listen to Venom. One day, he was going to see that even if he no longer loved Anne, he could find someone better, and he was going to leave her.

Well, the alien still had contradictory messages. If Y/N sucked, Eddie sucked too. A loser. When he wasn't busy asking for food or criticizing the young woman, he was insulting his poor host.

And if she ended up not listening to what he said about her, only caring about her boyfriend's opinion, she didn't like it at all that Venom treated Eddie so badly.

"No." she said one day, sitting on the sofa, while the journalist was still arguing with the alien for some stupid reason, before throwing up his arms and agreeing to go buy chocolate and tatter tots to calm him down.

"…Uh ? Sorry, Y/N, are you talking to me ?"

"You're not going out."

"Uh. I'll just go to Madam Cheng's. It'll only take a few minutes."

"Venom doesn't deserve chocolate. You stay here, watch the movie with me, and if he apologizes, then he gets some sugar."

“How dare you, stupid woman ?!” the symbiote shouted, showing all its teeth to scare her.

But Y/N wasn’t afraid anymore. Even though he was rude and mean, he had promised Eddie that he would never hurt her, and he seemed to be an alien of words. Aside from his screams, he had nothing against her.

“You, how dare you ?!” she replied, jumping off the couch, which seemed to surprise both Eddie and the symbiote. "I don't care what you think or say about me. I understand that you don't like me, that I'm not good enough, and you know what ? I agree ! Eddie deserves better than me. But he deserves better than you too ! You're an asshole to him ! I forbid you from talking to him like that, or breaking his nose, even if you fix him right after ! He's a great host, you should thank him and do everything to make him happy."

It was stupid, but she started crying as she spoke. Emotions tended to make her cry, even anger. At the silence of her boyfriend and her non-parasite, Y/N felt bad.

She then had the stupid instinct to go lock herself in the bathroom, to try to calm down and remember how to breathe.

From the other side of the door, she heard whispers, but was unable to tell what they were saying.

Then Eddie knocked gently, asking if he could come in, or if she would come out.

"… He's going to apologize ?"

"Yes, I promise."

Trying her tears to not give Venom another reason to make fun of her, Y/N opened shyly, not daring to look at her boyfriend right away, and stood stupidly in front of him, waiting.

“Vee…”

“I’m sorry, brave little morsel.”

"Hmm ? Oh. No, I meant an apology for Eddie."

“He already apologized, love.”

"I don't need him to apologize to me. He meant what he said, and like I said… He's not wrong. But it's nice."

"Little morsel…" Venom whispered, moving closer to her and looking almost sad. "I was totally wrong. I see it now. Eddie explained it to me, but I wasn't listening."

With Eddie translating what he said, the alien explained that for his species, symbiosis was important. They could have several hosts, but there was only one perfect symbiosis, just one.

Part of him wanted to keep his host to himself, jealous and possessive, but that wasn't possible, because contrary to what his attitude seemed to show, he cared about Eddie's happiness.

That was why he was so insistent that he return to Anne. Because from the memories he had seen of his relationship, he had seemed to be in perfect symbiosis with Anne, and since there was only perfect symbiosis, then he had to do everything to get her back, even if she was married to stupid Dan.

He didn’t hate Y/N. It really wasn't personal, it was just logic and survival instinct.

What Venom failed to understand was that human relationships weren't like symbiosis. And in the end, if he had to compare the two, it was now obvious that Eddie's perfect match was with Y/N.

Yes, his ex had helped them, and she would help them again if necessary. But so did Y/N, who had accepted Eddie's special situation, who had stayed despite the horrible things Venom had said, who protected her lover and tried to please the alien.

"Babe…" Eddie sighed, taking her hands. “If anyone is too good for anyone else here, it’s you.”

"He's right."

"… Thank you Vee."

"But you always say she's too good for you. Once we agree, you might be happy !"

"Eddie… You're saying that ?"

"Of course. I still don't know how I managed to seduce you, or why you didn't run away when you saw Vee, or what I did to deserve that such a great girl could think that she's in love with a guy like…"

He jumped a little when she kissed him to stop him from saying any more nonsense, but Eddie quickly relaxed, clinging to her, pinning her against the wall to accentuate the kiss.

Right in their ears they could hear Venom purring in pleasure. They didn't mind until he licked their cheeks.

"Vee ! It's disgusting !"

"You're not listening to me ! I'm telling you to get into bed ! You're going to hurt Y/N if you stay here. A Lady should be caught in satin sheets, surrounded by rose petals, after foreplay of at least twenty minutes, and satisfied several times."

"… What ?!"

"I really like this idea. Eddie, where are my rose petals and at least twenty minutes of foreplay ?"

"Y/N ! Don't team up against me, please !"

"I can help him with endurance. And the rest. I've seen a lot of videos."

"… Okay ! Remind me to take care of my internet history tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, yeah. Less talk, more passion. Little morsel is waiting, I can feel it, and she's ovulating."

"… Aren't you supposed to go get chocolate from Madam Cheng ?"

"Yes ! And I will take the opportunity to explain for the hundredth time why there are things that should not be said."

“But Y/N is wet.”

"And here we go !"

Despite Eddie's explanations, Venom continued to want to give advice and do everything to make his relationship with Y/N perfect.

After all, he had almost ruined everything, so he felt he had an obligation to help these two idiots be happy, living in harmony and understanding what to do to satisfy the other in every situation.

Even if Eddie was already a caring and kind boyfriend, who Y/N didn't want to leave at all despite this little characteristic.

That said, after the alien took the initiative to help with his tongue once, she wasn't really complaining about it.

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 4

It's been about a week & a half since you've seen Bucky Barnes around the Tower. You knew he was out on a mission, but didn't know when he'd be returning. Abby has been asking you if you've see him at work.

You spent an entire evening with Abby sitting in your lap trying to explain that Bucky has to fly away sometimes to stop bad people. And sometimes we didn't know how long he'll be gone. "Are there plenty bad people, Mama?"

Hugging her tight, "There are a lot less, because Sergeant Barnes is very very good at catching the bad guys and putting them in jail. But sometimes his job takes a long time." Abby is silent, which is odd for your talkative daughter. "What's the matter, Baby?"

She shakes her head, getting out of your lap, to hug you around the neck, "Cans I sleeps with yous, Mama?"

Worried, "Ok, baby." Maybe you didn't explain things correctly. Did she not understand?

*****

You've been with Fury all morning attending his meetings with him so you were there when he was notified that Bucky's team returned. You attended the debriefing and you couldn't help but sneak glances at Bucky. Besides a bruise along his jaw and a split lip, he looked fine. You knew Abby was going to be thrilled when you told her tonight that Bucky was home.

After the meeting concluded, you and Bucky were leaving at the same time. "I'm glad your mission was a success, Sergeant."

"Yea, thanks."

"Abby keeps asking me if you were home yet." Bucky laughs softly, but a smile lingers. "We...she was worried. We were worried."

"I'm fine," shrugging off his cuts and bruises.

"I'm glad."

He leans in, making your hold your breath, "My friends call me, Bucky."

A little breathy, "Y/N." Before you know it, you're at your office door.

"See you around, Y/N." He turns as he walks away, "Tell Abby I said 'hi'."

*****

Lifting Abby onto her chair at the dinner table, "Guess who I saw today?"

Her head whips to you, eyes wide, "Mr. S'gent came home?" You smile wide & nod. She claps her hands & screams and slides down from her chair.

"Abby?" She runs away still screaming, "Abigail!" She stops turning back to you. "Get back here, please. What are you doing?"

"I needs to draws him a letter, Mama!"

You laugh, "You need to eat your dinner first. Come sit down." Frowning she waddles back to you. "I didn't say you couldn't do it, but you need to eat dinner first." You kiss her and put her back in her seat.

Still frowning, "Did he get the bad guys?"

"He did!" Placing her raviolis in front of her, clipping a napkin around her neck. Pasta gets a little messy. "He also wanted me to tell you he said 'hi'."

Abby's frown disappears, "He 'members me?"

"Of course he remembers you. I told you he wouldn't forget." She does a happy wiggle in her chair & laughs. She quickly eats her dinner so she can get to her letter writing...drawing.

"Mama?"

"Yes, Baby?"

Bringing her paper to you, "Can you make the words over here?"

"Sure, what do you want it to say?"

Leaning her body against you, looking at the blank paper, "Um...ummm"

"You want me to write, Um Um?"

She laughs, "No, Mama! Writes "good work'."

"You mean good job?"

"Uh huh, yea. Good job." She watches you write and takes the paper back to her little desk. She draws a stick person with colorful circles over her head, that you are guessing are balloons. "Can we go give it to Mr S'gent now?"

"Baby, its late, no. You need to take a bath & go to sleep. When I go to work on Monday, I'll make sure he gets it."

"No! I wants to give it!" Her mouth turns down in a frown & her eyes start to tear.

"Abby, it's the weekend. And you need to go to daycare..."

"Oh, please mama!" You noticed it's not a tantrum or stubbornness, but it's almost like she's distressed.

"Baby?" You gather her in your lap. "What's wrong?" She cries.

You rub her back trying to comfort her. "The bad people."

Aw shit. You shouldn't have told her about bad people when explaining Bucky's job. "You worried about the bad people? What bad people?"

"They...they fight Mr. S'gent." She cries harder. You feel horrible for making her worried. Your eyes fill with tears too.

"Honey, Mr. Sergeant is ok. I promise." Her tears stop but her grip on you hasn't lessen. You untangle yourself from her to wipe away her tears with the hem of your shirt & giving her kisses. "Ok, how about this, you cannot come to work with Mama, but we can go there tomorrow & drop off your letter at his office so he sees it first thing when he comes in to work. How does that sound? You'll be able to give him a surprise and I"m sure that will make him so happy."

"I surprises him?"

You nod, "And after we leave his surprise, we can go to the park & picnic. We can feed the ducks. Would you like that? Would that make you feel better?" She nods & rubs her face in your shirt. "I love you so much, my baby."

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitommmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @samsgirl93

Next Chapter

[luciferlightbringer]

Love In a Hopeless Place

Chapter 1

Hey all! This is Dany (they/them) and its my first time writing a fanfic, so please be nice :) This will be multiple chapters but I'm not sure how many, so we will see how this goes! This chapter is mostly set up :) Lucifer x prostitute fem!Reader Word Count:2.6k words CW: Mentionings of suggestive sexual content, prostitution, angst, sadness, depression (there will be more fluff/smut in later chapters)

Chapter 1|Chapter 2| Updated through Chapter 12!

Light of the morning started to stream into the large bedroom through a small gap in the curtains, the light hitting at just the right angle as the light slowly moved throughout the morning until the light started to cascade down the face King of Hell.

Lucifer began to blink his eyes open, groan, and shift away from the thin line of light that had disturbed him from his well fought for sleep. After a few minutes he sighed, lifted his head up high enough to look at the clock before letting his head drops back into the pillow with a groan.

"Too early," Lucifer mumbled to himself against his pillow. But after a few more minutes, he started to stretch and sit up in bed, because he needed to, because he was the King and eventually there would be some meeting or paperwork that he would need to attend to.

Lucifer briefly glanced over to the side of his bed, her side of the bed, well... not anymore. Not for the last seven years. He felt a familiar tightness start to form in his chest as he stared at it.

Lucifer shook his head as if to try and shake the bittersweet memories of his life with Lilith away, crawled out of bed, and went to his wardrobe to find some clothes for the day before the sad thoughts could stop his momentum. He put on his signature white and red suit adorned with little gold details, black bowtie and boots. He did the best he could to smooth out his messy blonde hairs before popping on his hat that was wrapped in a golden snake, along with an apple and a crown. Reminders of Eden.

Looking at himself in the mirror he looked pleased with his outfit, thinking of how if he looks fun, he will feel fun, and if he feels fun, he can get through another boring day... probably. Lucifer grabbed his cane and left the room to go to his study, flashing his big toothy charismatic grin to his staff and getting a quick update about his meeting later with the Sins from his secretary as he walked down the hallway.

As he got to his study, the maid was finishing setting up his breakfast for him at his desk. She turned, gave Lucifer a quick bow before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Lucifer turned to his desk and dropped the smile, something about it felt a little more painful today. He chalked it up to one of those days when he really didn't get good sleep, as opposed to the nights of just... regular bad sleep.

Lucifer ran his hands down his face and looked at the stacks of disorganized paperwork covering his desk, and sighed before taking a sip of his morning tea.

He sat down and got to work on the paperwork, trying to get as much done as he could before the meeting he had later that afternoon. It was gonna be a long day

____________________________________________________________

Before long, Lucifer was off to his meeting. He normally hates meetings, but he enjoyed getting to see some of the Sins, like Bee and Asmodeus, so that made it at least a little more tolerable. The meeting went by rather quickly, luckily, because most of the other Sins also normally hate meetings, and if the ran too long, people like Mammon would start complaining.

Asmodeus was the best one to have at meetings, he normally was in a good mood and either contributed ideas or was good at getting Mammon to shut up for a few extra minutes so that Lucifer could finish. Unfortunately, Asmodeus was also really good at picking up on when Lucifer's smile felt a little more forced than usual.

After the meeting, the other sins started to leave, and Asmodeus quickly grabbed Lucifer's attention before he teleported back home.

"Ah, Ozzie! What can I do for you, my friend?" Lucifer said turning towards his friend with a smile and a flick of his cane.

"Are you... doing ok Lucifer?" Asmodeus said cautiously, all three of his faces showing slight concern.

"Well ya of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Lucifer shifted a little as he stood, leaning slighting more on his cane, fidgeting with his suit jacket, and looking behind Asmodeus to check that everyone else was gone.

Shit, was it that obvious? I thought I keeping it together well, Lucifer thought to himself.

"Well... its just that... how do I put this... " Asmodeus put his hands together, and sighed, "You seem a little tense. Not like in a way that everyone can see, though. But... I just know you," he said putting a hand on his hip.

Lucifer deflated a little, dropped his smile and crossed his arms, "Fine. I just... didn't sleep well last night... I guess"

"Because?" Asmodeus asked, knowing there was probably more to it.

"Just the usual stuff, feeling lonely, boring meetings, more paperwork than I can deal with, its just all... ugh... draining..." Lucifer said sadly.

Asmodeus frowned, "And what do you do when you are feeling this way?"

Lucifer thought for a few minutes while, messing with his cane, "Lock myself in my office and make rubber ducks... or... stare at my ceiling... for hours."

Asmodeus rubs a hand down his main face before sighing and looking again at Lucifer, "If I may, Lucifer, you need to do something other than rubber ducks or staring at walls. I mean, there is nothing wrong with the duck. Just maybe try to get out there? Make some new connections, talk to someone other than just your staff, the Sins, or the Overlords. Literally anyone."

Lucifer scoffed, "Like who? I don't know if I am ready to try building anything with anyone again yet." Lucifer said looking at the ground.

"Well... when was the last time you talked to Charlie?" said Asdomeous

Lucifer flinched at hearing the name of his estranged daughter, they had not been close for a long time, not since she was small, definitely not since Lilith left him.

"Like... a month ago over the phone. We only ever talk for a few minutes at a time for small things... I don't know if she really wants anything to do with me. Or what I would even say to her" Lucifer said softly.

Asmodeus sighed, "Well you could always hire a prostitute or something to keep you company." He chuckled to himself.

Lucifer looked up as Asmodeus and blinked "I beg your pardon?"

Asmodeus holds up his hands innocently, "I'm just kidding!"

Lucifer looked off to the side and though for a second about the idea.

"Wait, are you actually considering it?" Asmodeus asked, a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

"Maybe. I guess... I could try it out and... if I don't like it or them I just never have to see them again... Right?" Lucifer looks at Asmodeus, who returned an encouraging nod. "But I don't know how the process works though, also, I kinda don't want it getting out that I've hired a prostitute," Lucifer said hesitantly, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair as he starts to stress about the idea.

Asmodeus' three faces lit up with joy, "Well lucky for you, I am just the guy to help you with this!" Cuz you know he is the Sin of Lust and all.

Asmodeus grabbed out his phone and started typing furiously while Lucifer looked on confused, curious, and a little nervous.

"I'm sending you my favorite recommendations, they always have the best options for prostitutes/call girls, and are always discreet. You can even use a fake name, maybe have a driver go pick them up, and pay in cash! Nothing gets traced back to you. I've helped some other Sins and Overlord get set up before." Asmodeus chimed as he wrote out his text to Lucifer, and then paused and looked up at him with a little bit of nervous regret for letting that last comment slip. "But you didn't hear that from me."

Lucifer mimed a motion of zipping his lips, locking it, and throwing the key behind him as he gave Asmodeus a wink.

Asmodeus smiled, then went back to his text "Ok, you will just need to call them and tell them what type of person you want, ok? I've put them in order of my most to least value places, they are all good though."

Lucifer continued to think about this new idea, a mix of emotions swirling in his stomach. He hated that it came to this, but Asmodeus was right, he was so fucking lonely and burnt out that he could not stand it. Lucifer didn't really know what he needed, but maybe a night of emotionally detached sex would blow off some steam. Worst case was that he hated it and sent the prostitute home early with a "sorry for wasting your time" tip. Ya... this could work.

______________________________________________________________

A couple hours later:

The phone began to ring in a smoke-filled room that was only lit up by a few dim lamps and some neon lights flashing in the window that flashed things like "Girls, GIrls, Girls", pictures of dicks, and boobs, the standard classy brothel window decor. A short, stout pig-looking man coughed, cleared his throat, and picked up the phone.

"Luxurious Lady's Lounge, how may we service you today?" the man said in his most charismatic voice, but not without hints of sleaze leaving their own lingering notes.

The man on the phone was requesting a companion for the night and asked for discreet services.

"No problem chief, we use codenames for a lot of our clients and ladies. How would you like to be addressed?" asked the pig-man.

The man on the phone hesitant for a moment before responding with with name, Lance.

"Alright, Lance, and what kind of companionship are you looking for tonight?" asked the man, now starting to eye the available options of people in the room as the man on the phone spoke.

Across the room, closer to one of the few lamps in the room, you sat lounging on one side of a large soft couch, waiting for your next possible client after just finishing an in-house session. You were a newer resident of hell, only had died a few months prior, and had found yourself in hell. A little disappointing, but not surprising, as the life you had been born into did not give you many chances to do much more than accept the opportunities that helped you scrape by, none of those opportunities being very virtuous, and that is what you still continue to do here in hell.

Upon arriving, you had quickly learned in hell that money unfortunately still mattered, which meant you still needed a job, and most jobs in general were awful, but you just needed something. During your first couple weeks in hell you looked at your options, until eventually Larry, the pig-man on the phone found you and took a likely to you, which led to you taking the job here. It was fine, sex was fun, it paid the bills, and you didn't think that sex would ever mean anything more than a fun pastime in hell, so why not?

"Alrighty! Well lucky for you Lance, I have just the girl for you." Larry laughed as he looked across the room at you and gave you a wink with one of his red eyes. "Her name is (y/n), and she will be ready for you at 9 pm sharp. Sound good?"

New client, 9 pm. You look at the time, you have an hour. You start to walk up to the desk, but wait for Larry to finish the call to get deals.

"Ok great, she will be ready for pick up then," Larry hangs up the call and turns to look at you as he takes a drag off of his cigarette. "Alright baby doll, you got a new one for the night, code name is Lance, wants to keep it discreet. Got it? Just looking for a nice, sweet girl to show him a good time, lonely bachelor type, and he will be sending a car for you at 9 pm. Make sure to be out there early and looking pretty, ok?" he said wiggling his eyebrows.

"Of course," you said smiling. You turned on heel to go back to the make up room to get ready. Sometimes his sleaze made you feel a little uneasy, but he looked out for you and, at least from the rumors you heard, you would later be here then working for some hot shot like Valentino who gets a temper with his employees. At least Larry kept his hands to himself, but his gaze always roamed freely.

As you start to walk back you hear another woman's voice hiss out, "Oooooo baby doll is getting a chauffeur, he sounds rich, make sure you don't fuck it up sweety!" followed by a group of obnoxious giggles.

Ugh, Cynthhhhia. One of the mean girls of the lounge, a snake-woman with a viperous attitude. She hangs around three other girls that are only slightly more tolerable when they are not hanging around her.

You continue walking to the back room without breaking your stride or looking at her, only responding with a sly smile and a "well maybe if you weren't such a mythic bitch, Larry would schedule you with some high rollers too, Cynthia."

"That's Cynthhhhia you li-" and the sound is cut off as you walk through the door to the back. All you can hear is the murmured yelling of Cynthhhhia and Larry trying to get her to shut up. She was mean to everyone, no one really knew why, or cared. You learned pretty quickly that it was better not to get pulled into the drama, but sometimes you couldn't help but throw a quick jab back at her.

Satisfied with yourself, you sit down to freshen up your makeup. New clients sometimes made you nervous because you never knew what to expect, but that was also half the fun. You liked getting to know new people, people seemed to like you well enough, you already had a few regulars that requested you frequently and tipped well. It wasn't glamourous, but it was something.

You finish up by putting on a simple pretty dress that was more appropriate for your journey through the public than the lacy lingerie you were wearing, partly because the client asked for the interaction to be discreet, also because you have learned that clients like to have a "reveal" of sorts most of the time. The look on their faces was always fun.

You look at the clock, it was almost time. You get on your long black coat that was lined with faux fur I mean you may be in hell, but you still didn't feel good about real fur jackets, and you walk out to the front of the brothel to wait for the car.

After a few minutes of waiting and a couple of cat calls from men walking down the street, a nice black car puts up front. A man in a suit rolls down the window and looks out at you with a stoic face, "y/n?"

You give a little wave and say "That's me, baby."

The man nods and the back door unlocks. You slide in and close the door. As the car starts to drive off you settle into the soft car seats, mentally getting ready for another night of work.

———————————————————————

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want added to the tag list for future chapters! 💖

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 6

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: a lot of jerking off WC: 8.4k AN: thank you all for your patience!! i started grad school so i got a bit busy, but now i will update about once a week! thank you all for the love :) also i am so sorry about all the angst

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7

Chapter 6: Tearing

The afternoon sun filtered through his window shade and cast his room in its warm glow, but Anakin was too busy with his notes on his desk to notice. He needed something to do with his hands, just to keep himself focused, to keep his thoughts from wandering to you. To answer a practice problem, he was trying to find a specific case of heat diffusion the class had discussed--somewhere in October, he thought, but he wasn't quite sure. His desk was already messy before he began studying, but he was making it even worse with a paper thrown here, a staple there.

His eyes scanned the paper this way and that, trying to absorb any iota of information, but the words were slippery, wily things that wriggled out of his grasp. In the end, it turned out he had flipped past the page several times without seeing what he needed, and he finally found it on his fifth pass. Subconsciously, he dug his nails into his palms in frustration. Why couldn't he work? Why were you doing this to him?

His phone chimed, a text from his mom. Hey, how are finals? Doing okay?

For a few days, he'd been ducking questions about whether he was sleeping or eating enough, because he knew she'd be disappointed with his answers. He was running out of ways to change the subject in phone calls, and he knew she was catching on. Anakin decided he should probably respond.

yeah, really stressed about one of them, rest are fine. thesis going ok.

A second later, his phone lit up again.

Good luck. I'm so proud of you, Anakin, no matter what. As soon as he read it, he dropped his head into his hands. His forehead was clammy under his fingers. Of course she was proud of him unconditionally. He knew that. But he knew that he would be even prouder if he won. If he got a 4.0 this semester. Once, after he said something like that to Ahsoka, she looked at him with that knowing expression only she could produce, and asked him if his mom had ever said anything like that. Technically, no, he conceded, but he couldn't let her down.

He just felt so stupid right now, looking at the pages blanketing his desk. He'd been sitting over them for too long, but he couldn't bring himself to get up and stretch or take a break. He couldn't bring himself to do anything, really, let alone focus. So he was trapped. All he could do was just sit there, drink his Red Bull, and kind of review until he could destroy this exam next week.

Anakin decided to try another practice problem. Maybe that would make it click.

The surface tension of liquid argon is given by--

His phone buzzed against the desk. Putting it on loud was a bad idea, and he knew it. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse. It was probably his mom, saying something else. Or, he hoped as his heart jumped, maybe you were coming from the lab early and wanted to meet and study. Or hook up. Or just talk. Whatever, as long as it didn't involve his textbook. His phone buzzed again. And again.

He gave in and opened it. It was you, he found, and he grinned like a lunatic, but caught himself. Then again, he was alone, so it didn't matter, really.

But then he read your texts.

Where are you We need to talk Now

He typed back immediately, his fingers flying faster than he thought they could.

in my room is everything ok?

He looked at the screen, saw the bubbles pop up that meant you were typing, then watched as they disappeared. Anakin was frozen, his phone in his hand. We need to talk could just have been a poor phrasing on your part, right? It didn't mean what he thought it did, right? He could deny it only for about five more seconds, when the little bubbles didn't return.

Fuck. Anakin let loose a string of curses and dropped his phone on his desk. He couldn't think of a single thing that would warrant ending… whatever the two of you had. But maybe you'd realized that he was doing a lot more than what fuckbuddies (fuckenemies?) should do, that he was an absolute wreck for you, and had been for a long time.

The caffeine was getting to him, and his leg was bouncing so quickly that he swore his downstairs neighbor would submit a noise complaint. His mind started racing with all the things he never would have told you, the things that would go unsaid if you ended what the two of you were doing. He'd never tell you that he had two dogs growing up, strays, or that his least favorite flavor of Skittles was orange. He'd never tell you that he was pretty sure that he hadn't felt this way about anyone, ever, and that he had laid awake for the past two nights thinking about how, if at all, he would tell you.

Ahsoka's voice echoed in his ears, wisps of sound urging him to just say something. His mind was racing, a million trains of thought all colliding at once. He should just tell you. He'd never learn your favorite kind of cereal. He hadn't responded to his mom, fuck. He regretted having that Red Bull. He'd never tell you that he called you baby during sex because he wanted to say it other times, too. The answer to that thermo question was probably 36 Joules. He'd never tell you that if you called him a pet name he'd melt and let you win any competition because nothing would matter anymore.

But that was precisely why he hadn't told you how he felt. Because if you felt the same way about him, that would be so much better than any amount of money or award. And that wasn't the kind of person he could be.

He'd spent so long training to control that wild hurricane of emotions that pulled him through everyday life. Anakin channeled it into perfectly neat parallelized circuits and technically exquisite poomsae, but around you it all let loose, angry and passionate and just so much.

It was terrifying. You were terrifying. And there was a selfish part of him that said that he deserved to let all those feelings loose for once. To feel as much as he wanted to feel because, goddammit, he was so tired of control.

But Anakin was a lot. A handful, his teachers always said. It was what ended his previous relationship, what drove Padme away. Would it drive you away, too?

If you walked up to him in two minutes and asked him what the two of you were, if it was just casual or something more, would he have the self-control not to blurt out exactly what he was thinking? His stomach flipped at the idea of you leaving the room, leaving his life, without knowing how he felt.

You walking away from him and disappearing into another part of the country after graduation would kill him. He was pretty sure that seeing you at a reunion in five years with someone on your arm, some beautiful person who you had never hated, would smite him on the spot.

He imagined himself six months from now, when the thesis was over. What would that Anakin want for himself? Would he let himself say something? Fuck it all, he would say. And he was right.

If you were going to end things, he was going to get this off his chest. He had to. He wasn't sure he could live with himself if he didn't.

The sound of knuckles on wood cut through the silent room like a dagger through his heart. One, two, three seconds passed as he sat in his desk chair, mind totally blank. He tried to produce a coherent feeling or, if he was lucky, an entire thought, but he came up empty.

Before, it was all something nebulous, something he could just worry about. Something he could stress about. Now, it was real. You were behind that door, and you needed to talk. And there was no escaping that. With heavy legs, he dragged himself to the door.

Anakin pretended not to notice that his hand was shaking when he wrapped it around the doorknob.

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The bus ride back to your dorm had been uneventful, other than the way you were staring daggers into the skull of some poor guy in front of you. He had the good sense to not turn around.

Anakin Skywalker is a thief. You clenched your fists, and you could barely feel the sting of your nails in your palms. Barriss wasn't one to lie, based on the past three years you'd spent with her. She told you the facts right after: she overheard one of the graduate students--probably Obi-Wan, but she didn't know who, just some vaguely hot older guy, she said--telling Anakin his idea for a thesis. And then Anakin ran with it.

If she was right, that changed everything. If Anakin really didn't come up with his own idea, that meant he had rigged the competition. He had a leg up this whole time. He really was exactly what you had thought for years. The golden boy of the department who had everything handed to him. And while you'd labored over choosing the perfect, most viable but impressive idea, he had just skipped right over that step. You'd cried over how hard it was to find a good idea, struggled for weeks on end last year, just trying to make something good, let alone great. And he was already weeks ahead of you in the competition.

All of his sweet gestures--staying with you in bed, holding hands in the library, getting you drinks--were suddenly less sweet. Last year, he was in the thesis lab with you, when he was working on his proposal, watching you go through ideas and get upset when they didn't work, and he knew that. And he never told you about where his idea came from, even when you were getting closer. He probably knew it would piss you off, and he still didn't tell you. He'd hidden it from you.

You didn't know if that hurt more or less than the unfairness of his advantage.

The bus slowed to a stop in front of your dorm, and you hopped off, then dashed to the elevator.

You just wanted him to tell you that Barriss was crazy, or misheard. Or anything. Anything to make it not true.

The elevator ride was agony as it whizzed up to his floor.

At his door, you hesitated. If you entered and fought, that made this real. So, so real. The second you walked through that door, everything between the two of you might change.

But you were too furious not to knock. Silence hung for a few seconds before you could hear the door unlock.

Anakin opened it to you, looking unfairly hot. Rage ripped through you as he looked at you with open affection, gesturing to enter his room, like nothing had changed. Like he wasn't lying to you all this time. You stormed in quickly.

"Anakin, I need you to be honest with me." Your voice came out tighter than you wanted as you searched his face for a reaction. He closed the door, then came to stand in front of you.

"I'm always honest with you," Anakin replied earnestly, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he forced a small smile.

You didn't smile back. "How did you come up with the idea for your project?"

"What?" Anakin blinked, caught off guard. He let out a breathy chuckle. "That--that's what you wanted to talk about?"

"Well?" You pressed, crossing your arms. The edge in your voice was obvious, cutting. You could see Anakin go through the stages of realizing what you might mean, and your stomach started to sink even deeper.

Anakin sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. "I--Really? Okay, fine. There aren't currently any microsurgery tools that mimic human hands. They're all pincers. So I wanted to make one." Your gaze narrowed.

"And you're saying Obi-Wan had nothing to do with it?"

"What are you talking about?" It was probably supposed to sound confused, but it came out more scared. You knew him well enough to tell. God, he was infuriating.

"Did you or did you not get your idea from Obi-Wan?" The words came out like tiny daggers, sharpened steel that you spat at him. His face fell, and you could see the moment that he knew you knew.

"Look, it's not like that," Anakin said, his arms falling to his sides. His eyes were suddenly avoiding yours, like his desk suddenly contained some information he desperately needed, or, preferably an escape hatch.

"Then what is it like?" You shot back, your heart racing. You stepped closer, trying to find an answer in his furrowed eyebrows. "Why can't you just say no?"

Anakin's jaw clenched, and he was obviously searching for the right words. Words that wouldn't piss you off, probably. "Because Obi-Wan helped, I guess."

"You guess?!" Your voice cracked, incredulous.

"I mean--look." Anakin raised his hands defensively. "Sure, Obi-Wan put me on the path to it. But every second in the lab since then has been me. My design, my coding."

"What do you mean put you on the path? You mean he gave you the idea, don't you?" Your frustration with him was boiling over. Even now, he was defending himself, trying to evade this. Justifying. It drove you crazy.

Anakin hesitated, his words faltering. "I--It's not--"

"Are you seriously about to say that it's not that simple or something?" You interrupted, your voice shaking. You threw your hands up, your fury finally reaching its peak. "Because, from here, it looks simple. Like you stole your whole fucking thesis idea!"

"That's not true!" Anakin snapped, his voice louder now. It wasn't the same kind of anger you were used to seeing from him, it was defensive, almost panicked. "Obi-Wan, he just, he suggested I look at applying an old project of mine to microsurgery. And he was right. So, I guess, technically, if you're looking at it like that--sure. He gave me the idea."

You stared at him, his words sinking in. His admission hung between you like a guillotine, its rope finally snapped. The air felt tight, like you were ten thousand miles above sea level and there wasn't enough oxygen to keep you afloat.

Anakin shifted again, his anger gone, his voice softer, pleading. "It's like… I don't know. I guess I feel guilty about it. But I really needed to submit something that day, or I couldn't enter into the competition at all. It was the rules. If I don't do a thesis… I--I don't know. I just had to. And I figured I'd just use that temporarily, and pivot as soon as it was approved, It was in the end of junior spring, and I just couldn't find a topic that worked. That idea I had about hand prosthetics didn't pan out, and I was telling Obi-Wan about it in the lab, and he told me I should look at microsurgery, 'cause they have a lot of the same issues--calibrating movement to user input, holding up to wear and tear, dealing with friction and joint movement--and that I should do my thesis on it."

His eyes finally met yours again, so deep and blue that it almost made you reconsider. Almost. He was pleading, begging you to understand. "So, yeah, I submitted an early version of the idea Obi-Wan gave me. But every second of design, build, everything was me. It's my work."

You stood frozen, silent. After a few long beats, Anakin started to fidget, his hands wringing so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"If I could go back, I'd do something else. Anything else." Anakin's voice wavered, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of his guilt. "I just--I didn't know what else to do. I needed to submit something, anything. I need to win this," he finished, his voice trailing off.

The anguish over being proven right was something you didn't expect. You should have felt vindicated, that you were actually right all along about him. You should have hated him. But instead, you could feel your heart breaking, like a marionette with its strings cut, slumped over and lifeless. If he had just admitted it to you himself, maybe you could get over this. Maybe. But the fact that he hid it from you cut like a knife. Tears welled in your eyes, and your throat was drier than you'd ever felt it. The words fell from your lips softly, like you could barely get them out.

"How could you?" You felt like you'd never known him, like the person in front of you was a stranger. How could he be both this person, and the one who would keep you warm at night?

Anakin noticed the coldness of your gaze, and it gutted him. Anakin's breath caught, and you could see him shatter in real time. His cheek twitched, right under his scar, and you could swear you saw his eyes start to fill with tears. His hands were shaking where they were clasped together, and you were sure he was leaving indents with his nails. His shoulders shook under his panicked breaths.

He didn't speak for several long seconds, his mouth tugging this way and that as he tried to think of something, anything, to say.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" He asked as he stepped toward you, trying to seek reassurance to keep him from falling apart. But you couldn't give it. You didn't even know him anymore.

"I--" you opened your mouth, hesitating, before you restarted, "I don't know." Your voice cracked, but you hardened it. "I didn't before, but now I'm not so sure."

Anakin took another step closer, reaching out with his shaking hands as if to touch you, but you backed away. His face flushed even more, hurt and frustration jumping across his features. It made you even more angry. "This is so fucking unfair, and you just--you just let it happen."

He said your name, trying to jump in, but your anger surged, and it drowned him out.

"I spent weeks getting my idea just right." Each words was more brutal than the last. "Weeks. And you got everything spoon-fed to you. Everything I worked for--and you just took it from someone."

Anakin flinched like you had struck him, but you were far from done.

"I thought I knew you, I thought I was wrong about you this whole time," you spat, your fists clenching at your sides, "But I was right all along. You're just a fucking cheater."

A tear slipped down the side of his cheek as you continued. Your voice shook as you admitted to him, and to yourself, what the worst part really was. "And you didn't even have the decency to tell me. And that makes you a fucking asshole."

He shook his head, his eyes stinging as he started to speak. "No, please, it's not--"

"Stop it!" You shouted, your voice cracking with emotion. Anakin stood frozen, his outstretched hand falling limply to his side. Your breath rushed through your nose and your pulse beat in your ears. You couldn't even see him anymore through the tears, but you refused to let them fall. To let him see you cry.

He said your name one more time, begging, pleading. For a moment, you were tempted, but the hurt was too big to ignore.

Your voice was cold, distant. "Get away from me," you ordered. Your back was rigid with anger and hurt. "And leave me the fuck alone."

Without waiting for him to respond, you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

You stalked down the hall as quickly as you could, ignoring the buzzing in your pocket as the tears you were holding back finally poured down your cheeks. You didn't even have the energy to wipe them away, you just let them fall while you punched the button for the elevator.

Only when the door closed, and you pulled out your phone to call Ahsoka, did you see his messages.

please come back we can talk this out please give me another chance

They were all sent minutes apart. You could hear his voice reading them, desperate and thick with tears. Even though you were angry, angrier than you had ever been at him, the idea of him crying still made your chest ache. And then it made you feel vindicated. But then it made you feel horrible again.

You arrived back to the lobby, then crossed the building to the other elevator bank, trying to avoid the awkward gazes the students passing by gave you. You sniffled wetly, wiping away your tears, as you ran up the two flights of steps that brought you to your room. You unlocked the door as quickly as you could, then hid inside.

Your phone buzzed again.

i understand that you don't want to talk, but the second you're ready, i'll be here. i'll always be here.

The words made you sob loudly, and you were thankful for a moment that Ahsoka wasn't home. Until you saw the text, it hadn't hit you that this was the last time you'd talk for a while. You couldn't even remember the last kiss you two had shared. The library? Was that the kiss you wanted this to end on? You'd never see his half-lidded eyes as he worshipped you, never hear him call you baby again.

Why did he have to go and fuck it all up? You asked yourself, sobs wracking your body as you slid down the door. You couldn't tell if you were more sad or angry, but you were definitely heartbroken. Lately, his casual touches, his affection, the way you slept together every night, it was starting to feel like more. But it was all gone now.

You had been numbed with caffeine and stress, but the past week, you felt like you were soaring every time he touched you. Every time he gave you that intense look he always did.

But the two of you were just hooking up. It wasn't supposed to be anything more, and you never thought you'd feel the pull to be with him when you weren't fucking, but it was like gravity. Even now, you wanted him to comfort you. Not someone, but him.

The realization that you had feelings for him hit you like a truck. All the breath was gone from your lungs, gone to some other dimension.

You liked Anakin Skywalker. Even though he was an asshole. Even though he'd hurt you. But those feelings didn't end just because whatever you were had ended, they didn't leave you alone.

You could have been his girlfriend if he hadn't hidden this from you. And that was the last nail in the coffin that made you break down fully.

You sat there, crying, sobbing, wailing, for at least another half hour before you dragged yourself to the shower. It made you feel the tiniest bit better to have your hair clean, your tears scrubbed off your face until the skin went sensitive and ruddy. When the water turned off, it was cold, and you relished the shock to your system.

And then, you started the process of getting over him. You knew you had to do it eventually, and you only had to get through finals before you could go home and forget all about him. Come January, when you next saw him in the lab, it'd be like seeing any other classmate.

That thought was enough to make you start crying again while you stood in the towel you stole from your house. Your tears mingled with the water from the shower, and it was enough to let you pretend that you weren't crying, that becoming strangers with Anakin didn't kill you inside.

You promised yourself that this would be the last time you cried this semester. That night, if you felt the threat of tears, you just threw yourself harder into whatever you were studying. There was nothing else you could do.

At the thermo exam two days later, you walked in later than you usually would for a final that was this important. When you slipped into the class, two minutes before they started passing out test papers, you spotted Anakin in the corner. Because of course you did. Your eyes hadn't stopped finding him in every photo, in every room. He had always been magnetic, and, just because you weren't together anymore didn't mean that stopped. And he was looking right at you.

His gaze ripped through you with some mix of desperation, affection, and sorrow. Anakin looked, in one word, horrible. His eyes were sunken in, red and swollen from crying. Most people would not have noticed, but you knew him too well. His dark circles had come back with a vengeance, like fresh bruises on his otherwise smooth and clear skin. His mouth twitched when he looked at you, like he was going to say something, but he stayed silent as his eyes followed your path.

Throughout the exam, you could feel his eyes on you a couple of times, but you didn't allow yourself to turn around and look. You let the calm of equations and math wash over you, and soon there was nothing but the test. The questions and the precise way you wrote Greek letters in the blue book lulled you into a state of calm you desperately needed.

When you handed in your exam, you allowed yourself another look at Anakin, and then you left the building. You didn't see him before you went on break two days later.

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Two days before break, he saw you again. He hadn't changed his habits, still studied in the dining hall and had meals there, sometimes went to the library, and he secretly hoped, thrummed with anticipation, that maybe, just maybe, you'd be there too. That maybe you'd see him and realize you wanted to talk it out. That, obviously, did not happen. He spent an embarrassing amount of time awake, because you haunted his dreams whenever they came. The disgusted look on your face and the words I was right all along, you're a fucking asshole echoed in the back of his eyelids and his mind's eye whenever he laid down. So, he stayed up. More time to study, right?

He spent most of those 48 hours trying not to cry and failing miserably. Even when he broke up with Padme, it wasn't like this. He was angry, indignant, and, of course, sad, but it was the kind of sadness that settled deep on his shoulders and dulled the world around him. It wasn't the kind of sadness that wrenched sobs from his chest whenever he wasn't careful. It wasn't the kind of sadness that made him regret ever going to this college, ever meeting you.

Ahsoka cast him a funny look at him one night, when he fell asleep in a common room. She gently shook him awake, and noticed the redness rimming his eyes, and the way his hands shook from too much caffeine. She gave him a hug and made him promise to sleep tonight.

He did, and that was the night before the test. Every muscle and joint screamed in protest as he dragged himself from his bed. He arrived fifteen minutes early, just to make sure he got a good seat, and then his head kept swiveling like an owl. Every time the click of the doors opening echoed through the nearly empty lecture hall, he locked onto the person entering. He was pretty sure he'd accidentally given glares to at least four poor souls before you finally entered.

He resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably failed the exam right then.

You were even prettier than he remembered, and the depth of your eyes when you stared at him was enough to make him shudder. Even now, he'd give anything to be with you again. When you sat down and didn't look at him again for the next three hours, he felt bits of his heart break off and get trampled under equations about heat diffusion and air pressure. You turned in your test, and then left, and he looked after you longingly. His eyes snapped back to his paper when he got a weird look from the TA.

He turned in his exam paper, rushed home, and promptly passed out on his bed. You came to him in his dreams, of course. Naked in his arms, lips pliant and wanting under him. The way your tongue peeked out when you were too hard at work, or the shimmer of your eyes when he made you laugh. The betrayal on your face. Get away from me.

He spent the rest of finals in a fugue state, doing tasks and exams because he was supposed to. Then, finally, the last one passed, and he was finally released to go home. He hadn't seen you since the exam, and that was probably better for him, he reasoned.

On day 1 of break, Anakin drove the whole day and listened to absolutely depressing music the whole time. He pulled over once and, in a fit of rage, smacked the steering wheel a few times. How could he be so stupid? How was he this much of an idiot? He sat at the rest stop for another fifteen minutes, his sweaty forehead on the steering wheel. Five hours later, when he arrived home late in the evening, he hugged his mom. Everything felt a little bit better after that. He had dinner with Shmi and Cliegg, even though all he wanted to do was lay in bed and sulk. He fell asleep quickly--he was too exhausted to stay up torturing himself with what could have been.

On day 2 of break, he lay in bed and just generally moped around. He could never be still for long, so that meant getting up to eat snacks, flicking through TV shows listlessly, and trying not to look at the texts you two had exchanged. He only cried twice, once at the thought that you'd never meet his mom, and the other at the memory of your body in his arms as he fell asleep. Both reduced him to hot, silent tears.

On day 3 of break, he did yard work and drove by his old dojang to say hi to his high school coach. He ended up agreeing to teach some lessons over break to avoid having to sit at home alone with his thoughts for three entire weeks. Plus, the money was good. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be getting that thesis prize at all, at this rate. He only cried once, at night, when he thought about having to watch you work in the thesis lab without speaking to you. He wouldn't cross that boundary. You already knew he wanted to talk, and you hadn't texted him back.

On days 4-9, he taught three hours of lessons a day. It was calming, familiar. He only had to splash cold water in his face to avoid getting too upset two or three times per day, but the undercurrent of wondering what you were doing never stopped torturing him. He hadn't touched himself in at least two weeks, and he regularly had to stop his thoughts from drifting away to the last time he was inside you. Every time it happened at home, in bed, he got up and took a cold shower. It served him right. At the end of the week, he went to the mall and bought his mom a Christmas present with the money he earned. Just because he knew his mom wanted to blend their family better, he picked out something small he could afford for Cliegg, Owen, and Beru, too.

On day 10, it was Christmas Eve, so everything was closed. There was nothing to do, so he answered a few emails from Professor Jinn, cleaned the oven, and helped his mom prepare for Christmas dinner. There were files on his device he had prepared specifically to work on his thesis over break, but his project made him nauseous. He'd give it all back for a chance to start over. He'd get a B on his thesis if it would make this pain stop. He didn't touch the files, and, that night, when he finally gave in to the temptation to see if you'd posted anything on social media, he didn't touch his cock, either, even though just an image of you was enough to drive him wild at that point.

On day 11, it was Christmas, and he woke up at 4am in his bed, as hard as a rock. Anakin spent an hour tossing and turning and begging his body to just let him sleep, but, eventually he gave in. It was Christmas, right? He deserved a present. When he closed his eyes, he didn't even try to think of someone else. It was you. It had been for a while. Your little noises as he kissed up your neck, the scrunch of your eyebrows right as you came, and the tight grip of your pussy around him when he buried himself to the hilt inside you were enough to make him cum all over his hand within a minute. He found it embarrassing, honestly, that you had this effect on him. Anakin fell asleep quickly and tried not to feel too gross about what he'd done.

On day 11, attempt 2, he woke up around 11, right before lunch, and came down to wish his mother and Cliegg a merry Christmas. Beru and Owen were supposed to come for dinner, but, this morning, it was just the three of them. Anakin had no particular yearning for Cliegg to be a father figure, he just wanted his mom to be happy. If Cliegg did that, then he'd watch endless movies with the two of them, or get Cliegg a present. But if she didn't want to be with him anymore, Anakin wasn't sure he'd miss him. Their second anniversary was in three weeks, and it was a shock that it had been that much time already. When dinner rolled around, and he greeted Owen and Beru awkwardly, not sure what a person is supposed to say to a newly-acquired sibling. He'd seen them a sum total of maybe ten times, almost all of which had to do with the wedding, so they were in how-was-school and how's-the-new-job and gosh-the-winter-has-been-brutal territory. When Anakin gave them their presents, they seemed overjoyed. He'd gotten them matching scarves, each with their first initial embroidered onto it. It was a miracle they had them in stock at the mall, he thought, but the present seemed to hit the right spot. Cliegg got the aforementioned fishing pole, something his mom had told him he was prattling on about, and he got his mom a beautiful new winter coat. She had been mending hers for years, and water and snow would soak right through it, but when he saw the beautiful down puffer coat in the store window, he knew she'd love it. He was right.

Cliegg got him a Laser Distance Measure, which must have cost a pretty penny, and Owen and Beru got him various engineering gadgets (a nice mechanical pencil for technical drawings and a cable carrying case, respectively). His mother's gift, though, was something he'd never be able to forgive. She had bought him a beautiful, fresh Raspberry Pi set, with 8 GB of RAM. It wasn't the most expensive thing in the world, but the $150 or $200 that it did cost her was enough to make him tear up. He'd mentioned months ago that he was thinking of getting one for some personal projects, something for his portfolio, and she bought it. He had the good sense not to say anything like You aren't supposed to get me presents for Christmas and crushed her in a hug, the kind that whispered I know how much this is worth, and I'm so lucky you're my mom. For a second, he was worried he would cry when he saw the crow's feet appear by her eyes, and he felt how thin the skin on her hands had gotten. When had she gotten so much older? For a terrifying moment, he realized he'd have to live without her one day, but then Cliegg made some comment about how he'd made hot cocoa, and they all gathered around the living room to chat. As the last tendrils of sunlight fell beneath the swath of trees in their backyard, he laughed at something Owen had said, and he felt the tiniest bit less alone. Like maybe it didn't matter if he got an A in thermo or had the best thesis in his year. The notion left him quickly.

On days 12-17, the warm feeling had subsided, and all he could think about was what you were doing. Whether you were moving on, or if you still felt the same way he did. If you wanted him again. The fantasy of you seeing him again and realizing that, oh, actually, you wanted to work it out, and also kiss him, inevitably ended with his hand on his cock and cum on his stomach, then regret and shame for about an hour afterward. Once the studio had reopened, he kept teaching there, but with more hours this time. Also, Anakin could finally open the folder on his computer named Thesis without cringing at it, but barely. His heart still skipped about four beats when he thought about how he'd have to see you practically every day. He pushed thoughts like that from his mind as much as he could. No point in torturing himself more than the actual semester would.

Day 18 was New Year's Eve. He went to a party hosted by some of his high school friends, some rager at a frat house. He just wanted to get drunk, honestly, and this seemed like a great excuse. It was sticky and hot even right outside the door, but the sweaty blast of steam that hit him when someone opened it turned his stomach. But the beer was free, so he wouldn't complain too much. A couple of times, he noticed a girl checking him out over the bone-shaking bass. He might have made a move, if he were a different person. If any one of them was you, or had your smile, or your eyes. As soon as he noticed something that was too different from you, he averted his gaze. They were all cute, he supposed, but that didn't matter. They weren't you. When the countdown started, Anakin retreated, not interested in being pulled into some kiss that stunk of beer. Instead, despite knowing he'd regret it, he sent you a text. happy new year, it read. He blamed the tequila, and went back into the fray of cheering people.

From days 19-24, Anakin kept on keeping. Dishes, teaching, occasional progress on his thesis. He submitted over 20 job applications. Sometime in the week, in his daily rehashing of all your messages, he noticed the read receipt had popped up on his text from New Year's Eve, and he cursed himself. He was cursing himself a lot lately. Especially when he promised he wouldn't jerk off over you, but it always ended up happening. The subtle rock of his hips against the mattress when he thought of you, grinding the hard flesh against the soft material, then the sticky warmth of release and the rush of regret that always came with it. The heat of the shower made him hard when he thought about how he'd always wanted to try fucking in the shower, more specifically, fucking you in the shower. He really shouldn't, he reasoned while his hand pumped his dick.

Day 25 was spent driving again, after he gave his mom a big hug and threw his suitcase in the car. Despite himself, he realized that he was no more over you than he had been on his drive to his house. The fact that he would see you tomorrow still made him perk up and wilt at the same time. In a short twenty-four hours, you'd be real, three-dimensional in front of him again. He wasn't sure what would happen--would you kiss him? Slap him? Combust? He could never tell with you. He wondered if you'd cut your hair over break, or if you'd talked to Ahsoka about him. Whatever fantasies he'd been nursing, they were all going to be proven or disproven tomorrow. So he had to use the hour before he arrived on campus to imagine, as hard as he could, that you were in the passenger seat. That you were his girlfriend. That you had just come from meeting his mom, who had shown you a bunch of truly humiliating baby pictures and had whispered to him that she liked you when you had gone to the bathroom. For the rest of the night, that was the reality he lived in.

You had compared schedules last semester, before things got weird, and you shared only two classes, both of which were on Mondays and Wednesdays. At 10:30, you'd both be in Unsupervised Learning, then at 2:30, you'd both take Dynamic Systems and Controls. When he woke up at 8:30, he showered, then tried to wipe the tiredness from his eyes. He put on a shirt he knew you loved (you'd remarked on how well it fit him, and he didn't see it, but you did, and that was all that mattered) and his most comfortable jeans and hoodie. He secretly hoped you were doing the same kind of preening at home, trying to look good for him, but he didn't let the thought take up too much room in his mind.

At 10:25, when he walked into the lecture hall, he saw you instantly. Time stopped as he felt like someone had just gotten a particularly good hit to his solar plexus, and his whole body was responding, out of breath and weak and dizzy all at the same time. You were in the third row, to the left-hand side of the seats, and you looked more gorgeous than he remembered. How didn't he spend the whole break fantasizing about the way your hair shone or the curve of your neck? Seconds started ticking by again when he realized he was blocking the path to the seats, much to the anger of the group of people behind him. He walked down the steps to the second row like everything was normal, then positioned himself on the other side of the lecture hall. He kept his eyes firmly not trained on you for as long as he could, and, when the professor started droning, he turned to look at you, really look at you.

You had put on just a touch of makeup, something he'd noticed years ago that you always did on the first day of class. It suited you, and you looked well-rested and happy. Like you didn't miss him at all. It gutted him like a fish on the chopping block. What was wrong with him? How could he let you get away?

He turned back to the professor, pretending to be interested in the syllabus. When class ended, by the time he packed up his things, you had gone.

The second class was a repeat of the first, only in a smaller lecture hall. He tried to keep his cool, he really did, but he snuck glances. He was only human.

He didn't go into the lab for the week, mainly because he was almost done with build and was spending most of his time on securing materials for testing. They had their first practice that Monday, so he got dressed and headed over to the Athletic Center, where he grounded himself in the ritual, the calming power of it all. It was amazing to see Rex and Ahsoka again. They always made him smile, something he'd been missing over the break.

Later that week, Ahsoka invited him to your room to talk about that semester's competitions. He hesitated the appropriate amount of time before he accepted. The hallway to your room was achingly familiar, just like he'd seen it in his dreams. Only Ahsoka was home, so she wasted no time before interrogating him about what happened with the two of you.

When he told her the general gist, she had the good decency to be honest and tell him that he was kind of being an asshole by not mentioning it, but that it was normal to get advice from professors and other students. It wasn't ideal for it to be as explicitly grabbed, sure, but the point still stood.

By the time the door opened and you came in (his mind raced--from a date? from class? from some other part of your life that he would never come to know?), Anakin and Ahsoka were discussing taekwondo logistics. You looked gorgeous in the cozy cable-knit sweater you had on, and he hoped against all hope that he wasn't staring the way he thought he was.

You looked shocked for a good second before smiling awkwardly with a little "hey." You retreated to your room almost instantly, and Anakin felt a pit open up, wondering if he'd made you uncomfortable. It wasn't his fault, honestly, but he still felt guilty. He left an hour afterward.

Was this his fate? To watch you from a middle distance as you lived your life? He was trapped, pinned down like a bug, reading into everything he saw. If you were in a four-block radius, his eyes would find you. They always would. In class, he had to stop himself from turning toward you, from studying your features and trying to read anything from them. He never could.

Anakin was still fucking haunted by you, especially now that he was on campus. Everything reminded him of you. The boba place, every inch of your dorm, the emptiness in his mattress. He knew he was hallucinating when he thought he spied you at practice one day, just a wisp of hair in the corner of the room, but, by the time he did a double take, there was only empty floor there.

On Thursday, he got a text from Ahsoka.

Party tomorrow at Cody's. You should come, she had written. He didn't really, actually feel like partying. But he went anyway. Maybe he could spend enough time with his friends to forget about you.

He threw on a nice shirt, some kind of button-up his mom had gotten him, cuffed the sleeves, and set off.

It was a standard-issue party. He'd been to plenty of them, so he figured was ready and prepared for what he'd see and feel. Bass in his eardrums so loud it shook the blood in his veins. Having to scream basic conversation over music. Cheap beer and a sticky floor. Enough heat that his hair would start curling more.

It felt like home. He entered, found Cody and Ahsoka quickly, promising to return after he grabbed a drink. Anakin made his way to the folding table crammed full of bottles, as well as some kind of vile jungle juice, and took two shots. Just enough to stop thinking about you, he hoped.

By the time he fought his way back to Cody and Ahsoka, he was feeling it. Rex had joined them in the meantime, and Anakin joined the little huddle. They were talking (read: yelling "what did you say?" over the music) about one of Cody's dates that week, and Anakin let himself slip into the familiar rhythm of his friends. It was nice, honestly. He only thought of you five or six times, which was a record low.

Then Ahsoka suggested they go get another drink, and, as the four of them pushed back toward the drinks station, he saw you.

You were fucking radiant, and the breath stalled in his chest. You had always been the only thing he ever wanted to look at in a room, even from sophomore year, when you began to piss him off more than anything, but right now, you were a supernova. And he was a moth. He felt his wings get burned off as he traced the curve of your jaw and acknowledged to himself that, yeah, he probably wasn't going to get over you until you were across state lines.

You were wearing some sinfully short, tight dress, which crept higher and higher up your thighs. He could tell you weren't wearing a bra, and something stirred inside of him.

But then he saw the guy standing next to you, leaning in to tell something to your ear. Anakin hated himself for the thought, but he instantly started comparing himself to the guy. What was Mr. Boat Shoes saying to you that made you tip your head back and laugh like that? He remembered when he used to do that, when he would make you throw your head back to do more than just laugh.

Anakin felt his jaw clench and his body start to shake with the same energy that he always had before competitions, coiled like a snake about to strike.

He knew it was a bad idea, he really did. But he was never one to resist bad ideas. He blamed the alcohol. It wasn't that you were his, or some misguided attempt at owning you, but he just couldn't watch this. He couldn't let this feeling tear him apart anymore. When you swatted the guy's chest playfully, Anakin felt his eye twitch, right under his scar. Oh hell no. But he shouldn't. It was your business.

Fuck it.

Anakin started pushing through the crowd, and then he saw the guy lean in, and he saw red.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!):

@skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @johnbassplayercutie @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm @ann4zw @gimmefood

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

[vermilionsun]

[Anon request (2/2)]: “Since MC is broke, what do the LIs think of them showing affection through gifts, even if they haven't got money? I can imagine they make simple, inexpensive things like paper flowers for Leander or friendship bracelets for Ais.”

Yes yes yes~ - I don't think they'd care much about the price tbh

Ais

✩ "Hm… what is this?" Ais asks as he's handed a hand-made bracelet.

"It's a friendship bracelet I made for you," the MC replies with a smile. "I hope you like it."

✩ He's dumbfounded.

✩ Ais looks down at the bracelet in his hand and takes a moment to examine the colorful beads. He is surprisingly gentle as he handles the bracelet, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns. "You made this? For me?"

"Yep."

✩  High possibility there’s either a birb or bone charm in the middle (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻

✩ He's definitely the type to believe there's a reason behind every action someone takes.

✩ "It's handmade, huh? Why waste your time on something so pointless for me?"

✩ The MC's smile falters slightly at Ais's words, but they quickly recover. "It's not a waste of time if it's something I enjoyed making for you," they say softly. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back—"

✩ Meanwhile, Ais had already fastened it to his wrist.

✩ "Who said I didn't want it?" Ais interrupts, his eyes softening as he admires the bracelet. "You think I'd let you give me a gift, then just take it away so easily?"

✩ "I just don't understand why you would go through all this trouble for me." The MC chuckles, a hint of blush coloring their cheeks. "I wanted to show my appreciation for all you've done for me," they explain.

✩ Ais looks at the bracelet on his wrist, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, sparrow. I'll treasure it."

Leander

🗡 After yet another magic show of luck-filled lilies, Leander notices the MC sitting at the bar, busy doing something just out of view. He puts on a charming smile and takes a seat next to them. "Oh, what do we have here?"

The MC presents him with a few napkin-made lilies.

🗡 Leander's eyes widen in surprise, and he smiles as he picks one up, delicately examining the folded paper and twirling it between his fingers.

🗡 Leander is a man who enjoys both the big (̶A̶i̶s̶)̶ and the small (̶M̶h̶i̶n̶)̶ things in life.

🗡 "These are amazing," he exclaims, genuinely impressed. "Did you fold these yourself?"

🗡 "Impressive. I can't say I've ever seen napkin origami this accurate before."

🗡 I̶n̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ m̶o̶m̶e̶n̶t̶, h̶e̶ r̶e̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ w̶i̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ h̶e̶ h̶a̶d̶ a̶ b̶r̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ p̶o̶c̶k̶e̶t̶

🗡 He takes the small flower and gently tucks it behind the MC's ear, his hand lingering just long enough for them to feel the warmth of his skin at the uncovered base of his palm.

🗡 "Thank you for this lovely gift," he says with a soft smile.

Kuras

✞ He just blinks down at the object in confusion. "A bookmark?"

✞ He takes it, carefully inspecting it and smoothing his fingers over the glossy surface, intrigued by its unexpected smoothness.

✞ The bookmark is a deep shade of amethyst, with hand-painted gold designs etched into the surface. As he turns it over in his hands, he notices a small inscription on the back.

✞ Curious, he squints (bad eyesight gang, let's go) to make out the messy script that reads, 'For the most fascinating doctor.'

✞ "Ah."

✞ Speechless.

✞ For the first time since the MC woke up at his clinic after the Soulless' attack, his smile falters. A strange look flickers across his face—something caught between guilt and sorrow—there one minute and gone the next.

✞ "Do you not—"

"No, I like it..." He quickly reassures them. "Just a little startled. I'm not used to receiving gifts."

✞ Same song and dance. A̶n̶d̶ h̶e̶ k̶n̶o̶w̶s̶ i̶t̶.

✞ "It's... a very nice bookmark."

✞ Careful. He forces his gaze back to their eyes, to their friendly, expectant expression. His hands absently smooth out the wrinkles on his white coat as he tries to find the words to say. But none of them are appropriate.

✞ T̶h̶e̶y̶ a̶r̶e̶ s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ s̶o̶ y̶o̶u̶n̶g̶. S̶o̶ o̶p̶e̶n̶. S̶o̶ n̶a̶ïv̶e̶.

✞ He shoves down the guilt that claws its way up his throat, hiding it beneath an impenetrable facade. When his eyes flash up to the MC's, the gold swirls in his irises as he forces a smile—steadfast, unwavering. The one he has had centuries to perfect.

✞ "Thank you," he finally manages to say, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

Vere

✦ Vere, sitting across the table, observed the MC with a coy smile as they moved a broken-in-half pencil along the edge of the sheet of paper, brow furrowed in concentration, eyes focused intently on the task at hand, wavering only to glance up at Vere. Often. Very often.

✦ "What're you drawing there? Don't tell me you're sketching me."

A guilty smile overcomes their lips as they lift their eyes to meet his pink ones.

✦ Vere chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, how predictable. You can't help it, can you? I've just got such a captivating presence. But I must say, I'm flattered to be your muse."

"…It was supposed to be a gift."

✦ Vere pretended to be wounded, feigning a look of hurt. "Oh, how dare you! You'd just give away art portraying my stunning and irresistible beauty so easily? I'm wounded."

"For you."

✦ Vere pauses for a moment, allowing the words to sink in before bursting into laughter. "For me? Well, in that case, I accept your gift with grace and humility. I suppose I could find room in my collection for one more sketch of myself. After all, they are my favorites, just like you."

✦ "Carry on with your sketching, my talented artist."

✦ Truth be told, it turned out mediocre at best.

✦ Vere looked at the sketch, his expression a tad puzzled amongst the amusement. He held the sketch up to his face, examining it closely with a raised eyebrow.

✦ "Well, well, well... You certainly have a keen eye for detail, I must say." He chuckled softly, glancing up at them with a sly smile.

✦ "If you don't want it, you could just say so—"

He quickly snatched the sketch from their hands. "Oh, no no no, I'm keeping this. Consider it a token of your affection towards me."

✦ Vere has an expensive taste; that's a known fact. But he was willing to overlook the lackluster quality of the sketch purely out of vanity. He didn't need to know that the sketch was hastily done and far from impressive. As long as Vere believed it was a masterpiece, that's all that mattered.

Mhin

🕊 They are definitely a foodie. Please gift them sweets, if possible.

🕊 Mhin takes the bag, eyeing it suspiciously. Then, they peek inside, revealing a handful of sweets.

🕊 "A gift?" Mhin echoes, looking up at the MC, their face betraying a hint of bewilderment. "What's the angle?”

🕊 Mhin hesitantly picks up one, studying it like a puzzle to be solved. Then, they warily take a bite. A moment later, a small flicker of surprise and pleasure washes over their face. 

🕊 T̶r̶u̶t̶h̶ b̶e̶ t̶o̶l̶d̶, t̶h̶e̶y̶ h̶a̶l̶f-̶e̶x̶p̶e̶c̶t̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶ p̶o̶i̶s̶o̶n̶e̶d̶

🕊 Mhin crosses their arms defiantly, but their Mhin's voice softens a touch. Despite their hard, distrustful veneer, there is a hint of vulnerability in their eyes.

🕊 "You... really just wanted to give me this? No hidden motives, no expectations?"

🕊 "I..." Mhin falters. Then, something strange happens: a corner of their mouth twitches up, as if fighting away a smile. "I don't understand you. But... Thanks, I guess."

🕊 In the more-than-likely scenario that sweets are expensive expensive in Eridia, I offer you the alternative: Hand-made dagger cat charm.

🕊 They look at the charm in their hand, confusion dancing across their face. The words fail to come to them; instead, their face turns into a frown.

🕊 “What is that supposed to be?”

🕊 A huff of breath leaves their lips as they reluctantly take the charm. They are clearly unimpressed. "You made this? Why would I need a charm? I don’t need luck; I trust my skills and my instincts."

🕊 "If you don't want it—"

They snatch the charm from their hand, almost possessively. “I didn’t say I don’t want it. I just...never mind.”

🕊 They attach the charm to their dagger, secretly basking in the warmth that spreads through their chest.

🕊 "Thank you," they finally mutter, refusing to meet their eyes.

🕊 Now, when they grip the weapon, a sense of reassurance floods over them as their fingers brush over the charm, despite their attempts to hide it.

🕊 Though they may not need luck, having a reminder of someone who cared enough to make them a gift was a comfort in itself.

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION ABOUT THE WEIRD DROW

Replying to a couple of shorter questions! Sorry that I can't get to all of you lest this blog just turns into a stream of constant asks, but I read all of your messages and to be honest there are several that I'm saving to draw something for 😭 alas there are only so many hours in a day.

Thank you for all the support and interactivity as always!

He takes fairly good care of things he considers important or useful - otherwise he's pretty messy or at least indifferent to mess. Definitely a "leaves the wet towel on the bed" guy LOL

Okay so I was bad and not used to DnD mechanics or spells the first time I played the game, so I RARELY ever cast Speak With Animals and had very little sense of their personality during his campaign - BUT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME WHEN I DID.

THERE WAS ONE TIME WHERE I REMEMBERED.

AND IT WAS PERFECT.

He adores and most of all respects this intense little guy with his whole heart.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Serious answer: he respects wild animals far too much to try and make one into a pet.

Non-serious but still true answer: He would never do that and have to deal with Astarion's incessant Drizzt Do'urden joke comparisons for the rest of his existence. That's that man's personal hell.

He's fairly adaptable! But as far as dynamics go, he does lean bottom regardless of who he's with in bed, but this doesn't necessarily translate into always being on the receptive end of things.

If he were to be with a cisgender woman who doesn't wear a strap like its a second pair of briefs, he would be more than happy to be the pitcher the majority of the time. I think the only scenario where he would be dissatisfied is a restrictive one - he couldn't be with someone who doesn't want to enjoy his whole body in earnest, or who can't flip the roles every once in a while. Also, you have to be a little gross. He has probably caught Astarion off-guard with the things he did on a whim/suggested they do more than once. All in all, as long as whoever he's with is versatile and not a prude, they could probably make it work.

He killed Minthara in her lair and all he got was a bear out of it. Good thing killing her was it's own reward!

MAN... Could just be that his story is far too concrete in my brain already, but it's hard for me to see that working. They are both far too out of touch with their emotions and quiet in their demeanor for me to envision a durable romance sparking. Also, DU drow (who has no clue how old he is himself) thinks of Shadowheart as being far too young for him.

There is a mutual understanding between them that there is a barrier that neither of them is willing to let the other get past - and because that is something they both share, they won't, and they might never try. They work so well as friends because of their similarities, but in a relationship I think that would be to their detriment.

Also, I think silver-haired Shadowheart's wants and needs for her future far diverge from DU drow's chaotic lifestyle, ultimately It's probably best for them to make their own paths.

HAHAHAHA LISTEN.... YOU'RE TALKING AS IF THOSE TWO THINGS DON'T GO TOGETHER PERFECTLY WELL BUT IN MY MIND THEY ARE ONE AND THE SAME.

The thing about DU drow is that he might be a bottom, but he's a very... Uh, engaged bottom. He can be as dominant with a dick in his ass as he can be submissive depending on how it jives with his partner- and he's gonna spew some nonsense either way LOL

Either way... I feel ya brother 😔🍑

He did it himself during a dinner Gortash invited him to. At the table. With a meat knife. He was trying to prove a really stupid point/put Gortash off of him.

I have a script for this and I still need to draw it someday! 🤦‍♂️

He doesn't think anything of it now - it's so far in the past and DU drow obviously isn't the judgemental type when it comes to sordid individuals LOL

As a person, however, Astarion likely wasn't the kind of guy that he would have gotten along with, and vice-versa. Sounds to me like he was pretty poshy and did all his misdeeds under the table - DU drow wouldn't have strong feelings about it from an ethical standpoint, but he wouldn't respect it either. Also, DU drow's is practically anarchistic in his political views - soooooo not much room there to be in love with politicians. I'm sure pre-vampirism Astarion would have less than favorable opinions about him as well so the feeling would have been mutual LOL.

ABSOLUTELY NOT HE NEEDS BOTH EYES TO CUT THROUGH FOES he will gladly put Gale on the slab to see what happens though LMAO

[queenimmadolla]

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son. 

  Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.

  Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.

  “Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt. 

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”

  “Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.” 

  “I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.

  Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise. 

  Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving. 

  “Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food. 

  “With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed. 

  The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs. 

  You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.

  “You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’

  “—I don’t snore.”

  “—And looking like you were in a coma.”

  Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.

  “Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.

  “Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”

  You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head. 

  You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”

  Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering. 

  Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose. 

  You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”

  Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed. 

  “Eat.”

  He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster. 

  While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.

  You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.

  And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.

  When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow. 

  “He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.

  He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.

  “Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”

  “You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.

  “You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”

  He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”

  You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.

  He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted. 

  “Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you. 

  “Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.

  “You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.” 

  Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.

  “Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”

  The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.

  “You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”

  Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.

  He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love. 

  It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion. 

  The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really. 

  Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.

  For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.

  You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.

  It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.

  Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room. 

  He held you in your bed while you both cried. 

  And cried.

  And cried.

  Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you. 

  When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.

  “Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.

  “Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.

  “Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”

  Halle-freaking-lujah. 

  Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.

  “I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”

  Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.

  “I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”

  The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.

  “Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”

  Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.

  You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.

  Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.

  Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes. 

  When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him. 

  “My little baby potatoes.”

  “He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”

  “I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”

  “Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore. 

  “Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”

  Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”

  “Pomise?”

  “I promise.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”

  “Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”

  Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of  the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.

  Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.

  Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways. 

  Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.

  After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.

  It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged. 

  You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit. 

  Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.

  Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you. 

  “What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.

  You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well. 

  “Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”

  The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her. 

  You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time. 

  It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.

  GOOD.

  On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.

  “Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.

  It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been. 

  Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat. 

  “Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”

  “I wanna see ‘em!”

  “You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out. 

  Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head. 

  Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one. 

  “You wanna hold him?”

  “Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.

  “Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.

  “‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”

  “Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.

  “He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”

  Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”

  “Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”

  “I heard you, his name is Wayne.”

  Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.

  “Wha—?”

  “His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”

  Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. 

  “‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times. 

  “I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.

  “When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”

  Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him. 

  Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete. 

  “So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”

  Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line. 

  Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”

  Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy. 

  Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”

  “Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”

  “Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.

  “Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”

  “No, Penny.”

  After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.

  You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.

  On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show. 

  “Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention. 

The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”

[lovelytsunoda]

common people // mercedes amg (v)

summary: baby merc has a magical brush with love at a college event....too bad she doesn't get his name, contact information or any way to ever see him again

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg x intern!female!reader

author's note: i'm back, bitches! y'all should know i use this series as a coping mechanism for some of the things going on in my life....just putting that out there. that's why it sometimes seems like baby merc is just floundering, but today, it's her world and we're just living in it.

"nobody is going to be at this thing anyways since its so close to exams, so don't even worry that you can't make it." baby merc laughs, turning down her radio as she tries to reverse into a parking spot at her college. "the parking lot is packed though, must be lots of late classes today."

on the other end of the phone line, doriane pin laughs. "i'm sorry still! we've only got a few more days to hang out before i have to go to zandvoort for more academy testing."

"listen, if a mercedes sponsored driver can win anything at this point, i will be happy about it because or car is shit with a capital 's'." she paused for a moment. "please don't let toto know i said that."

doriane laughed gleefully. since the addition of the f1 academy driver to mercedes’ army of teenagers and young adults, each one mentored by toto and Susie themselves, y/n and doriane had become close friends. closer than friends, almost. it was nice to go to work and be around another girl her own age for once.

she stepped out of the aging, secondhand mercedes she drove, locking the car door and tucking her keys into her pocket as she crossed the lot to the student centre. there were dozens of college students milling about, despite all the on-site food options having closed half an hour ago.

the student center smelled like fresh paint when she opened the door, a serene expression in her face as she wandered into the common room, delighted to see the electric fireplace going, the room filed with round tables full of canvases and acrylic.

the college paint nights had always been her happy place. no expectations, a relaxed environment. an instructor who didn’t care if you followed her instructions to the ‘t’ (or at all). it was a welcome break from all of the other crap going on in her life.

she took her usual spot near the front, donning the dollar store apron hung over the back of the chair and settling in front of the canvas, a chill britpop playlist humming from the in-ceiling speaker set.

the group had been painting happily for ages when he wandered in. with the blended background almost done, she looked up from her conversation with the blonde girl next to her to catch him tentatively standing in the doorway.

his hair was messy, flopping around his face. he had airpods in, and she could faintly hear the riff of a rolling stones song. his sweater read ‘elevating devices.’ he was a trades boy.

“do you have room for one more?” he asked, looking over at olive, the program leader.

“of course!” olive grinned, caught in the middle of doing a blending demonstration on her forearm. “come on in, I can get you caught up.”

she felt her heart skip a beat when she realized that the only empty spot in the room was behind her. the boy smiled at her as he sat down, clumsily slipping into the gingham apron. it looked out of place with his hoodie and sweatpants, and the visual made her smile.

could this be it? the day something in her love life finally went right?

all throughout the paint night, since she was two steps ahead of everyone else (you go to every one of these things, you begin to pick up the tips and tricks of the trade), she found that she kept looking back at the newcomer, and admiring the look of concentration etched onto his face.

whatever happens, happens.

whatever happens, happens.

you did not come here to meet boys, you came here for you.

but goddamn it, he was so cute! and he painted! he was perfect! hell, he listened to the goddamn rolling stones!

it was the end of the night, 'pulp' playing on the speakers as the last few painters began to pack up.

"excuse me?" she felt a hand tap her shoulder, and she turned around from where she was repacking her primark purse to face the boy in the lifting devices sweater.

she hoped he couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest.

"what are we supposed to do with these?" he asked, holding up one of olive's easels.

"they fold up." she said quietly, almost shyly as she took the metal stand from his hands. "like this. i come here all the time, helping olive pack up is the least i can do."

"nice." he said sheepishly, reaching for his own painting. "this was my first time."

"that's pretty good for your first try." she complimented, picking up her own canvas, as well as her car keys.

"can i walk you out?' the boy asked, gesturing towards the door.

"sure." she smiled, blush rising on her cheeks. she turned, flagging olive down and hoping the boy wouldn't notice. due to her frequent attendance at the paint parties, olive an dher had become fast friends, and she didn't miss the way the painter flashed her a thumbs up and suggestive wink as the pair left the student center.

"so, you a fan of the stones? i could hear them playing from your headphones when you walked in." she asked, trying to start a conversation, and hoping that he somehow found her interesting.

"a fairly recent one." he laughed, free hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

sweatpants. we can work on that. three months dating me, she thought, and i can get you into a snazzy pair of jeans.

"i took a history course on the british invasion as an elective. it's all about the stones, the beatles, the who. any british band with 'the' in the name, really. the kinks are my favourite."

"awesome. my dad is a big jagger fan. i grew up singing 'you can't always get what you want' when other kids my age were singing 'apple bottom jeans'."

god, she loved the guy already.

"what are you studying?"

"law. i have my last final exam tomorrow, and i'm actually doing some part-time, minimum wage office work for a formula one team. legally, i can't tell you what exactly i'm doing." she grinned. "well. i could. but then i'd have to kill you."

she'd been waiting her whole life to say that.

"that's awesome." worlds were burned for a smile like the one this guy had. it was dangerous just how strongly she felt after barely talking to him. "i doubt my chosen career path will land me anywhere near as exciting as an f1 team. but who knows, i might be paid the big bucks to fix a service elevator in their building."

"well, this is me." she frowned, pointing in the direction of her parking lot. why did she feel so strongly about leaving a guy she didn't even know? "it was nice painting with you. you should come to another one in september."

"yeah, maybe i will. are you going to the one at the other campus tomorrow? i might try and make it, since my classes are over at that campus anyways."

"i can't, it's right in the middle of my exam." but god did she wish she could. if she wasn't so scared of failing, she'd skip the exam just for him.

"right, right." he nodded, gesturing towards the residency building behind him. "this is me. it was nice talking to you."

"you too." she smiled sheepishly, turning around and beginning the walk to her car.

she resisted the urge to look back, worried that it would be followed by something potentially foolish, like an 'aren't you going to kiss me', or an invitation to get coffee (that he could then very well turn down).

it wasn't until she was back in her car, heat turned on and classic rock playing, that she realized that he might have very well been into her, and she didn't even get his name.

"shit!"

__________________

"i'm telling you, doriane, this was my rom-com moment waiting to happen and i blew it!" she groaned, face in hands as she sat around the round table in the break room, recounting her woes to not just her closest colleagues, but those she considered to be her friends as well.

she had always loved the break room. it was light and airy, painted in white with bamboo furniture and a wall of windows. sometimes, she brought her work laptop in there and worked at one of the green couches in the corner.

"you were so close!" doriane commiserated with her, placing one hand over hers. "babes, you got this. you'll be ready for the next stud who comes along."

across the table, frederik vesti hid his grin behind his cup of coffee. "hey, maybe you dodged a bullet. he could have been a serial killer. or worse, a premier league fan."

doriane snorted, and ungraceful sound, yet one that was full of love. "yeah right."

she had been over the situation millions of times since the she'd gotten back in her car, and she just could not figure out why it had never occurred to her to get the boy's name, or to offer up her own.

"eh, you'll get the next one." george shrugged, placing a hand on her shoulder as he moved to stand behind the young intern. "just look at me and carmen. it took me a very long time to find someone like her. she'd one of a kind, that woman. i'm gonna marry her someday."

"better get cracking on that one, george old boy." frederik laughed. "i want your seat, if the kid doesn't beat me there."

"they're not putting kimi in an f1 seat." doriane argued. "its way too soon."

"i dunno, bearman did a really good job with that ferrari. if he's the blueprint, toto will just follow what his mates are doing so it looks like he's keeping with the times."

the seat conversation was beginning to make her nervous, and she could feel the hives rising on her arms as she tried to remind herself that lewis leaving mercedes had nothing to do with her.

it was the timing of his decision, announcing he was leaving so soon after she felt like she had truly made a home at brackley. but it made sense. a man like lewis needed to go somewhere that could give him the car he needed to take home that eighth championship, and currently, it wasn't looking like that was going to happen here.

that didn't change the fact that it stung. that in a way, it felt like lewis was leaving her.

"y/n, do you know who toto's been talking to about the second seat?" geroge asked, raising an eyebrow as he blew on his tea, steam rising onto his pale face. pair that with the cardigan he was wearing, and he was starting to look like someone's geriatric grandfather (and she said that with all the love in her heart that she had to give)

y/n did know. legal had been very busy organizing and prepping meetings, as well as drawing up draft contracts and disclosure agreements.

but a non-disclosure agreement worked both ways. and, since she liked fucking with george, he wasn't getting a proper answer.

she grinned, sipping the last of her hot chocolate "no can do. signed an nda. expressly forbids me from selling the gossip to the press, or from telling nosy british boys."

"that's not fair! you're british as well!" george whined. "come on, it affects me as well."

y/n laughed, appreciating the light air that george brought to the conversation, instead of making it a somber affair about lewis' departure. "oh, would you look at the time. my break is over, and i now need to go track down some engineers and get them to swear affidavits."

fred looked at her with a confused glace, his head cocked to the side like a golden retriever puppy. "why? who's taking us to court?"

"nobody is suing us. it's time to make our cost cap submissions to the fia, and the engineers need to swear that they're telling the truth."

"so you can tell us about that, but not about contract talks?" george tried one last time to get an answer from her as she packed up her tote, bag, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles.

"nice try. good luck on the sim this afternoon, vesti over here says its not pretty."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @userlando @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @arshiyuh

[cherubshert]

hihi !! i was wondering if u could make a fic about how reader has glasses and enhypen thinks its saur cute (separate members ofc)

thanks so much for reading this!

(֊⎚-⎚)

a/n: these are low-key bad and rushed lol. not edited, this is just fiction:). i hope u like :0

희승

The soft click of the camera signals the end of a session, polaroids hung around to dry, make-up and props littered around your desk. it's small, just you and heeseung, going all out for photography project you had. you pull off your glasses, resting them on the very uncomfortable surface you were sitting on. the dress you have on is simple, hand made by one of your other very close friends. you use your hand to raise it so you don't slip and fall, making your way to were heeseung was crouching.

"are they nice?" "very..." he replies distractedly his attention drawn to the picture in his hand. your head rests on his shoulder, "are you sure my glasses don't ruin the pictures?" "i wouldn't have told you to put them on if they did,you look cute." he leans back to kiss you, short but enough to have you hiding your face in his neck. he smiles before shaking you off. "come on we still have so many to take."

제이

Jay slowly pulls away from you, his face flushed , his hair slightly messy, falling into his eyes. "what happened?" you question, shifting you hands to rest on his shoulder. his smiles and tilts his head admiring your face before answering, "your glasses... kept poking at me." "sorry" you mutter your hands raising to take them of your face. his follow suit, gently brushing your fingers away, his large hand cupping your face. "don't get me wrong, m'not complaining. " his fingers follow the frame of your glasses, tracing round your ear . "it reminded me of how cute you look like this." "like how?" leaned in, rubbing your noses together. you shyly shift away, your back pressed against his desk. your hands going up to adjust your glasses. "like this." he pinches your cheek.

제이크

you let out a sigh, pushing your glasses up to rub your eyes. it's getting late now, the clock turning the second you looked at it '10:36p.m.' you turn over your shoulder, jake seating very comfortably on the couch, the tv playing so low that you were sure he couldn't hear anything. but his consideration to you made your heart flutter.

you stood to your feet, silently making your way to where he was. he jumps slightly when you sit next to him, once he calmed down his hand wrapped around your shoulder pulling you close. "you done with work?" "no but I was getting tired, needed a break." you reach forward grabbing the remote. you lean back into his arms, increasing the volume to the tv.

jake is silent the entire time, his breath so soft you thought he had fallen asleep.

feeling your glasses be pulled off your face, shot you out of your trance. "these are so cute on you." he puts it on, turning to you with a smile. his change in energy is definitely alarming, but nothing you're not used to. you mirror his smile reaching forward, cupping his face, squishing his cheeks. "they're even cuter on you." laughter erupts between you two.

you both calm down very quickly, your back pressed to the couch, Jake hovering over you. he very messily puts your glasses on your face, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "you're so gorgeous, but these bring out a different type of beauty." he says drowsily, you giggle, hand raising to brush his hair out of his face. he leans into your touch, sleep easily overtaking him.

성훈

"cut!" you sigh, resting your head on the table. sunghoon silently places a bottle of water beside you, settling in the desk before you looking over his script.

your head rises up finally, leaning on your wrist. "I'm so tired." he smiles at you. "we are almost done for today. just a few more hours." you only grumble in response.

the next hour flies by fast, and soon its time to go home. you two thank the staff , filing out with your small group of managers. "we could go out for a little snack first." sunghoon suggests, you tiredly nod in agreement, following behind him to a café nearby.

its small and cozy, the smell of coffee beans and pastry sugars filling the air, you get something small, sitting by the window to look over the scenes you'd be focusing on tomorrow. your glasses hanging on the bridge of your nose.

you don't notice his staring till your orders arrive, looking up to find his eyes on you before they quickly shift away, thanking the waiter.

"you don't wear your glasses very often." you look at him. "oh no, i usually have contacts. " he leans his head on his palm, smiling at you. "they look very cute."

선우

You were rather hard to miss, seated in front of him, your head often hidden behind a book. you're both on very different levels socially. sunoo always being surrounded by a crowd of friends and people he admittedly never met or even cared about. and you, there was only one person he'd ever seen you with.

you drew him in, often finding himself lost in delusional daydreams, surrounding your very unique beauty. a flower, often graced by the sun, your skin shines so magically. one of his favorite things about you was your glasses.

rather large for your face, but ever so beautifully added to your aura. the way you pushed them back when they slipped off your face, the pretty charms you often adorned them with.

so when you, turn back, your eyes meeting his through the lens, his heart flutters, immediately turning back to his note book. he stares at the empty page in distraught, not registering the shuffling of the other students moving around the room, or even the chair placed by his table.

"sunoo?" his head shoots up so fast, "we're supposed to work together on the project." you say as you placed your books down. "oh? okay" he feels a little dazed, closing his notebook and placing them away.

정원

The nurse's office is not really where you wanted to end your day, your leg being bandaged, the nurse giving you advice on how to care for your injury. how did you get hurt? taking pictures of the football team for your school's yearbook, you weren't expecting to be turned into a target of a stray ball...

Jungwon rushes into the room when the nurse exists, an apologetic look on his face. your glasses are held gently in his hand, he's still in his football uniform, telling you he's been waiting since you got here. "I'm really sorry again, i should have been very careful." "it's fine, i was also being reckless." you reach out for your glasses, grabbing them a lot harsher than you wanted.

you put them on, pushing them to a comfortable position. you try to get on your feet, but the bruise on your leg, though small sends pain through you. jungwon very gently pushed to help you walk, some how convincing you to let him walk you home.

The walk to your home is silent, and once you reach your apartment complex, he pass your bag to you. "thank you." "um, by the way, you look really pretty with your glasses on." you turn back to him, your backpack half way on your shoulder. he blushes, "i mean you look pretty in general, but I, you-" "thank you." you say with a smile, pushing your glasses up. "i hope I'm not making you uncomfortable." "not at all, you're very adorable you know. " the last part is so light he barely hears it, his shyly playing with his fingers."thank , thank you." he replies bashfully, "if you still want to take more pictures of the team, i would love to help." "that would be helpful... see you tomorrow." "yes... see you tomorrow."

니키

you dust off your outfit, fixing your jacket and mic. your stylist fixes off your make-up, passing a pair of glasses to you. you put them on, thanking your staff, before rushing to where you were supposed to wait. the director gives you some directions, and telling you the basics about how things will be filmed. you don't notice niki till you turn around, you bow at him and he does the same.

you both stand around awkwardly, waiting for your cue to start. when the instrumental starts, you shift closer to him."your glasses..." he says softly, "they look cute."

[angel1cjules]

too hard, too fast pt.2

too hard, too fast pt.2 summary - In which Jungkook has sex with you a bit too fast. But you still enjoy it. pairing - dom!jk x sub!reader, idol!jk x idol!reader word count - 671 warning - insecure reader, rough sex, breeding kink, breast play, fingering, reader crying, aftercare, hugz, lots of smoochies a/n - please read pt.1 before reading this x.

pt.1 https://www.tumblr.com/angel1cjules/737585996246433792/too-hard-too-fast-pt1 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Jungkook travelled further, kissing your waist along the way. He finally stopped at your panties, which were now wet with your slick. "Woah, someone's needy" he joked. You blushed and tried closing your legs but his arm only spread it further apart. "Don't be shy, baby. It's just me, your Kook." You tried to relax yourself by sinking into the mattress. Within a matter of seconds, he tore open your flimsy panty and took a moment to enjoy his view. A beautiful girl with the most beautiful body he could ever wish to see. He didn't waste time and immediately tasted your sweet pussy. You gripped the sheets hard and moaned. That only encouraged him and he slipped in one of his long fingers. You yelped at the sudden intrusion and gripped the sheets even harder. "Kook- ah... It feels..." you said, drunken by the feelings of pleasure. "Mhm baby. What does it feel like?" he said, adding another finger in and forming a 'come hither' motion inside. You wrapped your legs around his waist for support. He was sliding those fingers in and out of you like a pro, making you see stars. Two fingers became 3 and at last, you gave in to your orgasm and cummed. "There baby. How do you feel?" he asked, checking in on you. "I feel... pleasured" you manage to say, gasping for air. "If I can make you cum like that with my fingers, imagine what I can do to you with my dick" he joked. You reached out and felt his clothed dick, it was hard and erect. He took off his pants and boxers before you could even blink. "Do you want to ride me? It'll be better for you because you can control the speed you're going." You nod and Jungkook quickly flipped your positions. You were on the top and he was on the bottom. "It's gonna hurt a bit and I'll hold you, love." he warned and held your hips as you aligned his cock with your hole. He slowly brought your hips lower until his tip was in. You were supporting yourself by holding on to his shoulders. Your hole felt fuller and you looked down. Half of his cock was inside of you. "Kook, it hurts." you said as tears began forming in your eyes. "Its gonna be okay, baby. I'm here, okay?" he assured you. You felt your hole stretch as Jungkook finally puts his entire cock inside. It hurt. It hurt, bad. Your tears, which were at bay quickly fell. Jungkook noticed that you were crying and tried taking his cock out but you stopped him, still insecure of yourself. "Baby, if it hurts, we could always do it another time. I don't want to hurt you." He said in a soothing voice. "It's fine, Kook. I-I can take it" you said, unable to control your sobbing. "Baby, no. I couldn't care less if I have sex. I don't want to hurt you. It's fine, I won't love you less or anything." he tried re-assuring you. "Baby, it feels better now. Can I try riding you?" you asked, your cheeks red and stained with tears. He nodded and held your hips as you lifted yourself up and slammed down into his cock again. He thought you looked good whenever and whatever you do. Even when you're crying, even when you're mad. He loved you too much. You continued lifting yourself up and slamming back down. It felt so much better. Now you felt pleasure. Euphoric even. --------------------------- time skip (1 hour later)------------------------- Jungkook finally lifted you off of his dick, which was covered with your cum, his cum and your juices. It was messy, to say the least. He laid you down, in the middle of the bed. You grabbed his wrist, still drunken with pleasure and asked "Kook, where are you going..?". He replied "Going to run a bath for us" and slowly took your hand off of his wrist. You watched as his figure disappears into the bathroom.

[archetypal-archivist]

I think one of the points that stood out to me about Quackity's statement is how professional it sounded and how he knew exactly how to move forward in a situation like this, despite how messy it is. It was short, it was to the point, it was without extraneous excuses or emotion, and it emphasized what went wrong and how he will fix it. End statement.

And I think something that jumped out to me is that- Quackity's trained in this. The dude went to law school. He could probably look at this mess and pick out what HR laws were broken, if any, and how it would be compensated in court, which in turn means he can then go and do that compensating. The statement sounds formal and trustworthy because I bet Quackity's had to do debate-style speeches and public speaking classes. He likely studied so he can put together a statement like this that would hold water in the court of public opinion. Maybe with the intent that such skills would be for a client, yeah, but it still carries over here, which is damn good because the QSMP mess is flaming harder that the 2020s dumpster fire merch tumblr started selling a while back.

I'm fairly certain the QSMP will survive this and with streamers like Badboyhalo and dedicated admins who love their jobs like Richas (Pomme and Richas have both told the audience in QnA segments on Bad's streams not to tell them to sleep, they know what they're doing), we'll be getting content in the interim while things are worked out, too. But I don't think we'll be reaching the level of popularity the QSMP had a few months back. Late 2023 to early 2024 has been nothing but blow after blow to the server, first with purgatory 1, then Forever, the backlash and horrible racism against the Brazilians and the targeting of Cellbit in particular, then Wilbur, then this... Yeah. I don't see the server escaping unscathed from this, there'll forever be drama tied to its name which is the last thing Quackity wanted from his project.

However, people love this whole thing. It's done what it's set out to do and created many genuine friendships and economic opportunities for the CCs. It's Quackity's passion project, a love carried to many other CCs, not to mention the fans. It's too beloved to die completely and given how long the admins stuck it out despite the working conditions, I genuinely think that most of the good members of the cast and crew will be sticking it out for the long haul. We just have to be patient and cautiously hopeful.