#y'all gone make me lose my mind up in here

[forhappysake]

Teach Me

A/N: This is my first smut and it is LONG. Sorry y'all, I love a plot. Also, not totally proofread, xoxo.

Warnings: SMUT, professor!reidxreader, implied age gap, mentions of dementia, loss of virginity, bl0wjob, protected sex, use of nicknames (good girl), sub!reader/dom!spencer if you squint

The fact that you’d managed to get into Dr. Reid’s criminology class was an absolute stroke of luck on your part. You’d stayed up until midnight, eagerly waiting for your round of registration to unlock, and you’d immediately submitted your requests and refreshed the page until you got confirmation. You were elated. You had read so much about the young doctor, only in his mid-30s, who had multiple doctorates and over a decade of FBI experience. You were fully aware that taking his class would elevate your resume, not to mention that he was quite easy on the eyes.

Of course, that last part was just the consensus around campus. He polled “hottest professor” on social media every year since he’d arrived. You stared at his professor profile on the university’s website. The picture was undoubtedly a couple of years old, with brown curls atop his head and a cleanly shaven face. However, you’d heard from lots of the older majors that he’d aged like fine wine. With that in mind, you shut your computer before crawling into bed for the night. This semester can not end fast enough, you thought. 

*Seven weeks later*

Returning from Christmas break was never easy, but knowing you were going into Dr. Reid’s class made things that much easier. It was your last class of the day, from 3:00 - 4:15, and you knew you’d soak up every minute of it. Though after surviving two other earlier classes and multiple rounds of icebreakers with your new classmates, you were starting to lose your initial excitement at what Dr. Reid’s course may hold.

You walked into the lecture hall, noting an empty seat about three rows from the front. Claiming the seat as your own, you pulled out your new notebook and a red pen, scribbling the date and course number at the top of your page. You checked your watch: 2:58. You couldn’t help but tap your foot impatiently as your fellow students filtered into the room.

After a few more moments passed, the side door in the lecture hall opened, and Dr. Reid walked out in front of the room. He didn’t look up at the students, whose murmuring had gone silent the moment he entered. Instead, he turned his back to the group as he wrote his name and the course number on the whiteboard. 

He turned back around, this time scanning the students in the hall before clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Reid. I’ll be your professor for this course.” He paced around for a moment before coming to a stop and leaning himself back onto the desk. He looked a bit different from his faculty picture. His brown hair had grown out, allowing you to see more of his curls. His once clean-shaven face had evolved into stubble, and the rings around his eyes looked a bit darker. However, you couldn’t argue, he had aged well. 

“First thing’s first, the university requires that I take roll call for the first three weeks of the course.” You waited for him to fumble around on the computer or take up a piece of paper with all of your names on it. Surprisingly, Dr. Reid began calling out names from memory without picking up a roster. “Riley Anderson?” 

“Here,” a light-haired boy in the back of the class said, waving his hand. 

The back and forth of Dr. Reid calling names and students replying went on for another minute before he came to your name, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

You raised your hand and offered a small smile, “Here.” He looked up at you and smiled back. As you looked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, making quick work of the rest of the roll call before starting the course. 

The first day’s lecture was relatively tame. Nothing too gruesome was discussed, and thankfully the young doctor didn’t make you play any more icebreaker games. Upon class dismissal, a large line of students eager to make nice with their new professor lined up at his desk. Though you had hoped to meet the doctor personally, you didn’t want to wait around after being on campus all day. You quickly gathered your books and shoved them in your backpack before walking up the stairs and leaving the lecture hall. 

As with all semesters, the work began to pile on quickly as you did your best to keep up. Most of your classes began to blend together. However, Dr. Reid’s class was always your first priority. There was something about him that made you feel the urge to make him proud of your work. Maybe it was the way he’d smile thoughtfully as you asked him questions during the lecture or the time he’d made extra office hours for you when you needed help with a paper. It could have even been the morning you’d bumped into him in the campus coffee shop and he’d paid for your drink. As you pondered this, laying in bed the night before your midterm, you couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He did these things for all his students, right? You did your best to quiet your thoughts before forcing yourself to sleep the night before your exam. 

The next morning, you walked through campus with a certain confidence in your step. Though you had never been a great test-taker, you were confident that you were going to do well on Dr. Reid’s midterm. He’d even been so kind as to offer you a study guide, which you had been working through over the last week. You were prepared, but as you approached the lecture hall, you could see that your classmates weren’t feeling so confident. 

A young boy sat by the door, frantically scanning his handwritten notes in a last-minute attempt to memorise information. Several others followed suit.

Dr. Reid came around the corner, exams in hand. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. “Are you ready for the exam?”

“Born ready, Doc,” you joked, following him into the lecture hall and settling into your seat. Dr. Reid passed out the exams. Just as you suspected, you finished without a hitch. You dropped the paper on his desk and he offered you a small smile as you turned and left the lecture hall. 

You made your way to the library to study for your fifth and final midterm. You chose your typical spot in the corner of the room, hidden behind a large bookshelf. As you settled into study, you put your headphones in. As you dove into your reading, you became oblivious to the world around you. An hour passed, and it was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you were pulled from your work. 

You turned to face whoever had tapped you, and you failed to hide your surprise when you were met with the dark eyes of Dr. Reid. “Oh, hey!” you said, trying to be casual as you paused your music and took your headphones off. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down at you from his standing position, offering an awkward shrug. “I’m not sure, really. I guess I just thought I might find you here.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Is something wrong? Did I mess up on the exam?” 

Dr. Reid shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Goodness, no. You did wonderful. The grade is already in, actually.” “Oh,” you mumbled, smiling a little at his compliment. “Well then, what’s up?”

He stumbled around for a second, working up the confidence to utter his next sentence. “I was wondering if you were free tonight.” 

Your eyebrows raised and you felt your jaw drop a little. Was this happening? “Uh… f-for what?” you asked, trying not to get your hopes up. 

He pulled his hands from his pockets, fiddling with his tie as he shook his head. “Ah, you know, this was silly of me. I should go,” he turned to turn from you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. 

“For what?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment. You locked eyes with him, trying to read his expression.

He stood up a little straighter, your obvious interest seemingly bolstering his confidence. “I’ve been working on an article for a journal publication here at the university. I was wondering if you’d be willing to look it over for me,” he said. There was silence for a moment before he added, “I will also be cooking a new pasta recipe I found, and I would like it if you would stay for dinner after that.”

You felt a small smile creeping on your face, but you tried to contain your excitement. However, you could tell from the blush growing on his cheeks that he noticed. “I would love to do that, Dr. Reid. If you could send the address to my personal email, I would be more than happy to be there in-” you looked down at your watch, “roughly an hour.” 

A smile spread over his face, “Great. I’ll do that right away.” He looked around the library for a moment before he seemed to realize where he was, snapping back to reality. “Right, well, I’d better go straighten up my place a bit. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” With that, Dr. Reid turned from you and headed for the library door. He glanced back at you once, the blush on his cheeks evident as he walked out onto the quad. 

—

After Dr. Reid’s departure from the library, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to the parking lot, making quick work of the drive back to your apartment. You jumped in the shower and rinsed the day off yourself before drying off and standing in front of your closet. 

You examined your clothing choices. This wasn’t a date, was it? Maybe you should go with business casual… or should you choose something a bit more scandalous? Scandalous seemed to be the winning choice. If anything, you could lie and tell him you were going out after leaving his place. He wouldn’t think anything of it, right?

You settled on a shorter black dress that had a low-cut top. It exposed the tops of your breasts in a way that wasn’t wildly distasteful but wasn’t too subtle, either. You decided to skip on the underwear for the evening, the idea of being exposed underneath your dress enough to excite you. You’d never been with a man before, and you figured tonight wouldn’t necessarily be any different. You might as well have some secret fun of your own. 

Checking your watch, you realized you were running short on time. You dashed back out the door to your car. Checking your phone, you saw he’d emailed you as he promised: 

From: Spencer Reid Here’s the address you asked for, along with my apartment number. I look forward to seeing you soon.  -S.R.

You couldn’t help but smile as you entered the address into your car’s GPS before taking off. The fifteen-minute drive felt like an hour as you tried not to let yourself get too nervous. You entered the lobby of his apartment building, catching the elevator to the fourth floor. 

“Apartment 424,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped off and walked down the aesthetically lit hallway. The carpeted floor was pristine, and the view from the window at the end of the hallway told you that living in this building was not cheap. You shook the thoughts from your head as you reached the last apartment in the hallway, closest to the window. This is it, you thought, don’t fuck it up. 

You knocked twice and stopped to listen for any motion on the inside. You swore you could hear the soft lull of classical music from behind the door, and you suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching. The dark wooden door swung open, unveiling the wild curls of Dr. Reid. “Y/N!” he said, a smile spread wide across his face, “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, come in.” He stepped back from the door, ushering you into the room. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You stepped inside, examining the room around you. It fit his personality wonderfully. The green paint on the walls was accented by large bookshelves and dark furniture. You smiled when you noticed the lack of a television and instead, a record player sat in front of the sofa. “You have a lovely apartment, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, in awe of the way his personality was infused into the design of the place. 

He furrowed his brow at you, tucking his large hands into his pants pockets once more. He must be nervous. “I appreciate that. But please, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer,” you said, testing how the name felt in your mouth. “I can do that.” He smiled at you before gesturing to the couch, offering you a place to sit. You followed his lead, sitting on the far end of the couch as he perched in the middle. You felt him watching you closely, so you turned to look at him. 

Spencer noticed that you’d caught him staring, so he cleared his throat to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. “Here’s that piece I’ve been working on, if you’d still like to look over it.” He leafed through some files on the table before pulling out a thick stack of papers, held together by a large paperclip. 

You took the article from him. “Twenty-seven pages front and back? That’s quite the article, Spencer,” you joked, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He blushed sheepishly. “You don’t have to read it all if you don’t want to. I just thought that-” 

You waved your hand, cutting him off. “Of course, I am going to read it all. I’ll get started right away if you want to go work on something else.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to start that recipe I mentioned if you’re still interested in dinner,” he rose from the couch, watching for a sign of your approval. 

You looked away from the papers to smile up at him, “Certainly, thank you.”

As he walked away, you continued scanning the papers he had given you. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to review it, you could find no issues. You let out an audible sigh, which Spencer heard from the kitchen. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes! I’m not sure why you wanted me to look over this. It’s flawless,” you said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“I would take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so let down,” he said jokingly, a nervous tinge in his voice. 

You shook your head, “I feel that I wasn’t much help.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been a great help on this project. In fact, the questions you asked about the behavior of female abusers in class were what got me thinking about this in the first place.”

A blush spread over your face, “Really?”

He smiled, trying not to make it too obvious that he noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Really. You’re easily my best student. Your drive is unmatched, and your work is some of the best undergraduate writing I have ever seen. You should consider graduate school if you aren’t already.”

I shrugged at his words. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. We’ll see where life takes me, I reckon.” Spencer nodded before padding back to the kitchen, checking whatever he had put together in the oven. Almost on cue, a kitchen timer dinged, letting him know creation was complete. 

He pulled an oven mitt onto his large hand and pulled the dish out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stovetop before he turned back to you. “If you’d like to come sit at the kitchen table, I’d be happy to serve you.” You did as he requested, picking one of the two seats set at the table. Two glasses of wine were readily poured and thick, black cloth napkins were placed at each chair. You spread the fabric over your lap, noticing the careful vines embroidered along the trim. 

“Are these hand-embroidered?” you asked. 

Spencer nodded, “My mother used to live with me. She enjoys doing that sort of thing. I came back one day and she’d done these floral patterns around the edges.” He held up his cloth, gently tracing his finger along the vines and flowers. 

Despite your evident interest in her handiwork, you couldn’t help but wonder about his mother. “Your mother used to live with you?” you asked. “Where is she now?”

Spencer sighed as he looked down, gently laying his cloth across his lap as you had done moments before. “She stays in a nursing facility where they can give her the attention and care she needs. Between working at the university and consulting on cases for the Bureau, I wasn’t doing enough.” As he looked up at you again, you could hear the implication of his final statement: I wasn’t enough. 

You reached for the hand he’d placed back on the table, gently covering it with your own. “I’m sure you did everything you could for her. I’m certain she knows how much you care for her.” 

He offered you a sad smile, turning his hand up under yours and gently wrapping his fingers around your hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” Spencer trailed off, seeming to zone out for a minute as his eyes glazed over. You gently pulled your hand away from him, bringing him back to reality. 

“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, rising from the table. “We can’t have dinner without the food, how silly of me.” Spencer gently picked up the dish from the counter, setting it on the table in front of you. You examined the dish of pasta. “May I?” Spencer asked, scooping up a healthy spoonful. 

“Sure, thank you,” you picked up your plate, offering it to him. He placed a large helping of food on your plate along with a piece of bread before passing it back to you. You waited for him to serve himself and get reseated before you took a bite. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. 

Spencer’s eyes shot up from his plate as he dropped his fork on his placemat. “What’s the matter?”

You shook your head, eyes wide in amazement. “This pasta is incredible. Where did you find this recipe?” 

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh of relief. “Oh, I got it from a coworker. He’s a true Italian – cooks this sort of thing all the time.” 

You lifted the glass of wine he’d set out for you earlier. “Cheers to this mysterious coworker and your ability to replicate authentic Italian cuisine.”

He mirrored your movements, and your glasses gently clinked together. You locked eyes with him as you both took sips of your drinks. Something about the moment was wildly intimate and laced with flirtation. 

You forced yourself to look away, examining the cloth on your lap. “So, uh,” you stuttered, “are you looking forward to the end of the semester?”

Spencer took a bite of his pasta, mulling this over for moment. “Well,” he started, “yes and no. How about you?” He looked you over. You wondered if he was trying to profile you based on his careful examination of your body language and facial expressions. 

You chose to shrug, “Yes and no.”

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. There are some classes I’ll miss. Yours, of course.” 

He smiled shyly, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I love your class, but it’s really more than that,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. 

He quietly rose from the table and approached your side, looking down at you carefully. “Tell me,” he whispered. He leaned down to you, putting a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. He placed his large hands on either side of your face, as one of his thumbs gently caressed your cheekbone. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he whispered. His dark eyes scanned your own. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong and we can forget this. We’ll never talk about this again.” 

You swallowed nervously. “You’re not reading this wrong,” you answered quietly. You brought one of your hands up to cover one resting on your face. 

You rose from your seat and he followed suit. He stood several inches taller than you, adding to the strange power dynamic between the two of you. 

He lowered his hands, running them over your shoulders and down your arms until he slipped his hands around your hips, holding you in place in front of him as he looked at you. You could see the way he held himself back from you. He was trying to decide just how far he should go. 

You sighed and reached for him. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered jokingly, hanging your arms loosely from his neck to pull him a bit closer to you. He complied, leaning over you silently as your words hung in the air between you. 

“This entire situation is delicate,” he said in a serious tone. “I just don’t want to overstep.” 

“Spencer,” you laughed. “I’m standing in your apartment, calling you by your first name. Your hands are wrapped around my hips. I’m hanging off your neck. Don’t you think we’ve already overstepped?” 

He considered this for a second, looking around the room. “I suppose. What are you thinking?” he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 

“I’m thinking,” you said, pressing your body against his, “that I would love to push some more boundaries with you.” 

As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself giving in to you. Spencer closed his eyes, letting the scent of your perfume flood his senses. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispered. 

“Tell me,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He leaned back, allowing you full access.

“Fuck-” he murmured, “I noticed you from the beginning. You…” His words trailed off into a groan as you gently sucked on his neck. He ran a hand down your body, pressing you against him with a large hand on the small of your back. “You’re always so attentive, so eager to learn.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing to trail your lips up and down his neck. “Is there anything else you can teach me?” you whispered dangerously close to his ear. 

He pulled away, placing a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you into the hallway of his apartment. “Where are we going?” you asked. 

“My bedroom,” he said. His hand tightened around your waist as he reached for the door. 

The two of you stumbled inside, unable to keep your hands off each other. You found yourself falling backwards on his bed as he leaned over you, catching your lips in a kiss once again. You ran your hands through his soft curls and thought of all the times you’d berated yourself for imagining this exact moment. This couldn’t be happening. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. You felt a tinge of anxiety. Was now the time to tell him you really had no idea what you’re doing? He ran his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and revealing your lack of underwear to him. “No underwear?” he asked, smile evident on his lips as he leaned over you, leaving your back pressing against his clothed chest. 

You blushed, trying not to let on that you’d secretly been praying for this to happen all evening. Of course, Spencer already knew that. You were putty in his hands. 

He lifted himself off of you, and you rolled over to face him as he stood over you. “Stand up,” he said. You did as you were told, rising in front of him. You stayed still as he circled you a moment, almost as if you were some kind of prey. Spencer found the zipper to your dress. He rested his hand on it for a moment, leaning forward to offer you a soft kiss on the cheek. You took it as his way of asking for your consent, so you nodded, to which he immediately began unzipping the back of your dress. 

The black material fell from your shoulders and soon laid limply at your feet. Spencer let out a quiet moan as he turned you around to face him. You were completely bare before him. “My god, Y/N,” he mumbled. 

His lips attacked yours as he pushed you back on to the bed, your dress forgotten on the floor as his hands explored your body. He placed both his hands around your breasts, squeezing them gently as he began kissing down your neck. Spencer’s descent down your body continued with the utmost purpose, as you saw him lowering himself off the bed and down on to his knees in front of you. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Spencer looked up from your body to meet your eyes. “I want to taste you,” he said, matter of factly. 

As hot as the statement was, you couldn’t overcome the insecurity and anxiety that had seeped into your mind. In one flash, the confession fell from your lips. “I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 

Spencer stopped immediately, completely removing his gaze from your naked figure to focus on your face. He rose from his knees and sat himself on the edge of his bed. “You’ve never had sex before?” Spencer asked gently, looking you in the eyes the entire time. 

You nodded, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I probably should have disclosed that sooner. I’m sorry, I know it’s a major turn off,” you started to sit up, reaching for your dress on the floor. As you did, Spencer grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him. 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. 

You furrowed your brow at him. “Really?” 

He cupped your face with his hands, gently tracing the edge of your jaw with his thumbs. “I know our situation isn’t the most conventional, but if you let me, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You bit your lip in anticipation. “Okay,” you nodded. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “I want you to lay back for me, and I’ll make you feel good.”

You couldn’t help but trust him as you laid back on to the bed. He dropped to his knees once more, running his hands over your thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to him. Spencer lunged forward, licking an experimental stripe up your slit to gauge your reaction. You’d never felt anything like it before, and you couldn’t help but moan as he continued his movements, focusing his attention on your clit. 

“Spencer,” you groaned. Your hand found its way to his mess of curls, tugging sharply. He moaned into your center, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. “I-I’m close,” you whined, continuing to hold the back of his head. 

You heard him speak from between your legs, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Spencer dove back into your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

A sudden intrusion caused your legs to jerk, and you realized he’d inserted a finger into you. The mixture of the wonderful pressure he was placing on your bundle of nerves and the new sensation of his finger thrusting inside you sent you over the edge. You came hard, loosing your grip on the back of his head as you did. 

Spencer remained on his knees, lapping up what he could of you release before he rose to meet you on the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he laid next to you. 

You hummed in satisfaction, forcing yourself to open your eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the sinful amount of clothes that were still on his body. You expressed this by tugging gently on his tie, “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” 

Spencer chuckled. “We can fix that,” he said, rising from the bed. He made quick work of his tie, and undid the buttons on his dress shirt as you watched in awe. As Spencer shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, you took in his physique. Though thin and tall, his muscles were pronounced. You noted a few scars scattered about his figure, and wondered if you could get him to tell the stories behind them. His voice brought you out of  your thoughts. “You’re staring,” he said as he slowly undid his belt. 

You shrugged from your position on the bed, “I like what I see.” 

He let out a quiet laugh as he discarded his belt on the floor next to the bed, the hard leather hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Spencer peeled his pants off his legs, neatly folding them and setting them on a dresser next to the door. You couldn’t help but notice the large tent in his boxers, and found yourself wondering what exactly he was hiding under there. 

Before you could stop yourself, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, indicating his confusion as you dropped to your knees in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said with a tinge of humor in his voice. 

“Returning the favor,” you said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze. 

A large hand came to rest gently on your head as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is about you.”

You shook your head, finally mustering up the courage to look up at him. “I want to. I want you to teach me,” you whispered. 

That statement was enough to bring an end to his objections. Spencer smiled down at you with a sigh, “Pretty girl. Go ahead.” You smiled happily at the compliment and the permission to continue. You placed a few simple kissed above the hem of his boxers before locking your fingers under the seam and pulling them down completely. Spencer assisted by stepping out of his boxers, and he stood completely bare in front of you. You stared at his figure once more, eyes wide at the sight of him. His length was intimidating, especially for someone as inexperienced as yourself. You were unsure of how to proceed. 

Spencer leant down quietly and took your hand from his thigh, moving it to wrap around the base of his cock. “Now, just move your hand back and forth until you find a rhythm,” he encouraged. Like a student eager to please, you followed his instructions. After a moment he spoke again, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” 

You weren’t sure if it was your need to praise him or the flash of unadulterated lust you felt at that moment, but you leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into your mouth. Spencer looked down at you through hooded eyes, the silent act urging you to continue. You opened your throat the best you could, sliding him further into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. You wrapped your hand around the rest of him and, in time with the bobs of your head, stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Y/N,” Spencer groaned from above, placing an encouraging hand on the back of your head. He held your hair tightly. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. You slowed your movements so that he could fuck your throat at his own pace. You could tell he was holding himself back for your sake, and your heart swelled at how gentle he was trying to be during such a filthy act. 

You closed your eyes, becoming accustomed to the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, timing your breaths to the thrust of his hips. Suddenly, you felt the hold on the back of your head let up as Spencer pulled completely out of your mouth. “I’d love to keep doing that,” he said, out of breath, “but there are other places I’d like to finish tonight.” 

You blushed at the implication of his words. He reached a hand out to you, helping you stand up from the ground and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Spencer’s tongue entered your mouth as he moaned into the kiss, hands exploring your figure as he pushed you back towards the bed. You let yourself fall, the soft mattress greeting you as Spencer continued kissing you. 

He reached a hand down between the two of you, taking a hold of one of your thighs and spreading your legs open for him. Spencer pulled away from the kiss, meeting your eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I want to do this with you, Spencer.”

“You have to be vocal,” he said, continuing to look down at you. “I want you to tell me what you feel and what you need.”  You agreed.  

He kissed you gently once more before guiding his hand in between your legs, pushing a single finger into your opening. Spencer thrusted the digit in and out of you slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asked quietly. 

You nodded, “Yes.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, the next intrusion stretching you more than the last. He worked his index and middle fingers in and out of your opening as you moaned under him. 

After another minute, he pulled away from you. “You’re doing so good,” Spencer encouraged. He gave himself a couple quick strokes as he reached over to his side table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. He slid the condom over himself and positioned both your legs on either side of his body, lining himself up with your entrance. “Remember, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. Okay?” 

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh with one hand as he gently rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. You whimpered as Spencer pressed his tip into your entrance, body jerking inadvertantly as he continued to enter you. He peppered your collar with kisses as he continued. There was a small tinge of pain which brought tears to the corner of your eyes, but the pleasure was overriding the minor discomfort you felt. After fully entering you, he paused, allowing you to adjust.  

“How does it feel?” he asked. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open at his voice. 

“Spencer-” you stuttered, “m-move. Please.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself back and entering you slowly once again. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned above you. You couldn’t respond, too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you to begin to form a reply. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he whispered, peppering your cheeks with kisses, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You moaned at his praise, and you felt yourself tightening around his cock. “You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” Spencer asked, a mischievous smirk rising to his lips. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. You’re taking me so well,” he punctuated the final two words with sharp thrusts of his hips.

Between the words coming out of his mouth and the consistent movement of his hips, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his chest in an attempt to let him know. “Words, baby,” he encouraged. 

“I-” you groaned, “I’m gonna cum.” 

Spencer nodded, lifting himself up on his right arm to create some distance between you. “Hold on for me, one second.” He snaked a single hand down your torso, reaching your clit. He began drawing tight circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as you tightened around him. Spencer leaned down to you and pressed his body against yours, “Let go, I’ve got you.”

With his permission, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back arched off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, Spencer’s name falling off your lips. Driven by the feeling of you constricting around his cock, Spencer drove one final thrust into you, pushing himself in to the hilt. 

You felt an unfamiliar sensation as he finished into the condom inside of you, lips parted in a silent groan as he held himself above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered one more time as he collapsed on top of you. You both laid there for a second in a futile attempt to catch your breath. He leaned up, placing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the sensation. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 

You heard him exit his bedroom, and the sound of water running drew your attention to the bathroom. A moment later, Spencer reentered the bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up.” It was then you became aware of the amount of sweat coating your body, as well as the wetness coating your inner thighs. You accepted his outstretched hand as he lead you to his bathroom, allowing you to sink into the bathtub before he followed suit. He climbed in behind you, allowing you to lean back against him. “How do you feel?” he asked. 

You turned your head to look at him, “I feel great.” You sat in silence for a second, a smile spreading across your face. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head, covering your face before letting out a small giggle. 

Spencer’s smile mirrored your own. “C’mon now, what is it?”  

“I guess you did have a lot to teach me, Dr. Reid.” You turned to look at him, eyes meeting for the first time since entering the bathtub. 

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Believe me, there’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me on a date, Doc?” 

He sighed, leaning back against the bathtub. “Sure am.”

“Maybe next time, we’ll actually make it through dinner and get to dessert,” you said with a laugh. 

“I don’t know,” he said, leaning around to look at you. He lowered his voice, “Now that I know what you taste like, you’re my favorite dessert.”

[bro-atz]

this song is so san or seonghwa

https://open.spotify.com/track/3V5I90jseccXcK4MGC1gqr?si=fihk3cU9TPKbH9o8ko_1VA&utm_source=copy-link

do wtv u want with this 🤭

you've got me speechless

in which: the way they fuck you has got you speechless.

pair: san/afab!reader, seonghwa/afab!reader

word count: 4k

content: sofa sex, bedroom sex, beyonce in the background, established relationship, unprotected sex (make sure to wrap up irl!), completely consensual!

author's note: whAT IS W Y'ALL AND GIVING ME CHOICES YOU KNOW I CAN'T CHOOSE I GOTTA DO BOTH NOW ugh y'all suck /j, but i did put a lot of time in to this so you better appreciate me for doing the most!!! (ง'̀-'́)ง

tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis apply for the permanent taglist here!

choi san

The rain lightly showered outside, lulling you gently to sleep. You were sitting on the couch in your living room with your back pressed against the arm of the couch while you waited for your boyfriend. He said that he was going to come over after recording in the studio that day, and he promised you that it wasn’t going to take long, but you knew your boyfriend, and you knew the leader of the group— it was definitely going to take longer than he said it would.

You did everything in your power to stay awake. You paced the living room, which only made you more tired, you drank a cup of hot cocoa by the lit fireplace, which made you feel warm and snuggly, and you looked out the window at the rain falling on the window, which made you very sleepy.

Despite the fact that your eyes were closed, you could still hear your front door unlock and the doorknob turn, only to be followed by the sound of footsteps on hardwood flooring. Your eyes remained closed as you whispered, “Baby? You’re back?”

You felt the couch dip as he pressed a knee into the cushion, his arm wrapping around you familiarly.

“You should’ve just gone to bed, my love,” he said softly in his low, comforting voice before pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

“Mmm, but I wanted to wait for you… I missed you, Sannie.”

San let out a light chuckle and brushed your hair away from your face. Your eyes fluttered open to see your boyfriend’s beautiful chiseled face super close to yours, making your heart flutter as well. You wrapped your arms around him and willed him to hug you. After making himself comfortable, San hugged you close and nuzzled his nose into your hair. With a soft, content sigh, you snuggled closer to your boyfriend, a light smile appearing on your face.

“Are you sleepy, my love?” San asked, his voice husky with a mixture of love and desire.

“Not anymore,” you replied truthfully— San’s hold and scent was honestly turning you on quickly.

San hummed. He tilted your head up to look at your face with soft yet passionate eyes. You closed your eyes as he brought his head down, his lips pressing against yours over and over again, each kiss getting more and more intense. You found yourself clinging to him the more he leaned into you, worrying about the fact that you may fall off the couch; but, you didn’t have to worry. San had you tightly in his embrace, and there was no way he was going to drop you.

Your kisses became more breathless the hungrier he kissed you, and you could feel your sanity slowly melt away. However, before you could completely lose your mind, San released your lips. You couldn’t help but let out a light moan as he leaned away, earning a tiny chuckle from the man. Then, leaving a light kiss on your forehead, he murmured, “You look so beautiful tonight…”

You couldn’t help but scoff jokingly. “I look so beautiful in my sweats and your shirt?”

“Well, you’re always so beautiful, but yes. You look beautiful in your sweats and in my shirt. So fucking beautiful…” his low voice drawled right in your ear and his fingers traced patterns on your bare arm, sending shivers down your spine.

“What if I’m not in my sweats?”

San looked at you questioningly. You pushed yourself out of his arms gently, a slightly confused expression crossing his face until he realized what you meant when you shed the grey sweatpants slowly and tossed them to the side. San’s shirt was long enough to cover your panties and a good section of your thighs, so you were not revealing a single thing other than your bare legs.

Eyes trembling with slight excitement, San gulped noticeably when you walked back to the couch, his ears going red as you stood near him.

Whispering, you repeated the question, “What if I’m not in my sweats?”

“Hot…”

“Oh yeah?”

You knelt on the couch and pinned him down, his hands automatically holding onto your waist as you leaned back onto his thighs, his knees keeping you from going any further. You felt his crotch stiffen more as you adjusted yourself carefully so that your clothed pussy was pressing right on top of his crotch.

San inhaled with a light hiss and exhaled with a slight moan as his eyes scanned you up and down. His fingers slipped under your shirt and tiptoed along your waist, his hands slowly moving the shirt upwards.

“And if I were to take off my shirt?” you asked as you leaned forward slightly, your hands moving up his clothed torso.

“I don’t know, I think I need to see it before I make a comment,” San said with a smirk.

You were having fun teasing San, so you decided to continue teasing him. You held the hem of the shirt and brought it upwards, stopping at your lips. You bit the edge of the shirt and held it in between your teeth, revealing your matching lingerie set— the black, lacy one with the see-through bra and tiny g-string that drove your boyfriend insane.

“What about now?” you asked, shirt still lifted.

“You didn’t take it off, so how can I comment?”

San ran his tongue over his bottom lip and bit his lower lip seductively as he saw the knowing look that appeared on your face. You shed the shirt completely, the shirt falling to the ground with a soft flutter.

“Now?”

“Sexy… So sexy… So fucking sexy…”

As he answered you, his hands went up and down the sides of your waist and hips. You leaned down and kissed him passionately, San’s hands straying from your hips to your ass. He clenched and spread your butt cheeks, pushing you down so that your crotch was rubbing against his bulge still hidden in his pants.

“Mmm, wait,” you said breathlessly. “You should be sexy, too.”

San didn’t need to be told twice. He moved his arms so that you could pull his shirt off him while kicking off his pants at the same time. His arms wrapped around you once more as your lips reconnected, your tongues dancing with one another, his fingers working on unhooking and removing your bra. You reached down his briefs to play with his cock, his breathing hitching when he felt your fingernails scratch lightly along his length.

Before you could go further with your teasing, San flipped you so that he was pinning you down, a gasp escaping you at his sudden move. Words continued to evade you when he left a trail of pink marks down your chest and stomach all the way to your clit, and when he licked your clit through your panties, a rush of pleasure spread through your entire body.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried when San pushed your panties to the side so he could get a taste of your sopping wet cunt, his tongue immediately flicking against your clit.

You could feel him let out a light puff of air— a slight laugh at your reaction to him barely beginning to pleasure you. Your toes curled and you pushed your head backwards into the arm of the sofa the more San’s tongue explored your pussy. Your breathy sighs and moans overpowered the sound of the rain pattering against the window, your boyfriend continuing to pleasure you relentlessly. You couldn’t even formulate a single word as you felt your climax nearing. Your fingers ran through San’s hair and clenched tightly as you tried to pull him away before you could cum all over his face, but San was an immovable force. He flicked your clit with his tongue repeatedly, then sucked hard while slipping a singular finger into you and fingering you over and over again until you finally came.

Despite the fact that you had just cum, San kept his finger inside you and added another, his fingers still moving in and out. You were panting hard as you felt another orgasm overcome you, and you cried loudly as you came for the second time. San truly was amazing— he was the only one who could ever make you feel this way and make you cum so quickly. He rendered you speechless.

“You liked that, babe?” San asked with a slight giggle despite fully knowing that you more than liked his technique.

You could only nod at that point. San had made you feel so good that you felt like a puddle at that point. 

“C’mere, lemme give you a taste of yourself,” San moved up, his lips nearing yours. “You should get to experience how sweet you taste.”

With his hand holding the back of your head, San’s lips met yours and completely overpowering you. You clung to your boyfriend’s shoulders as you felt his passion surge through your body. Your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned into his mouth when you felt his other hand grope and massage your breast with immense force.

You don’t know when he managed, but San had slipped off his briefs and your panties— him kissing you roughly turned your brain into mush to the point where you couldn’t even add four and four in your head. It was only when you felt the tip of his penis press into your folds faintly that you realized the two of you were finally completely naked.

“You’re okay if I put it in raw, my love?” San whispered sensually into your ear.

Seriously, you wanted to respond and say that it was okay, but you still couldn’t say a damn word, so you settled for a slightly urgent nod, then pulled him in for a kiss.

Although you were physically touching San, that wasn’t enough for you. You wanted him even closer; you wanted to feel his entire body rub and roll against yours. You let out a loud moan against San’s lips as you felt his entire length push into you, his thick cock throbbing against your walls— but even that wasn’t enough for you. No, you needed him to fuck you fast, fuck you hard, fuck you senseless. You wrapped your legs around his waist and clung to him, your holding onto his shoulders, your fingers and toes tingling in anticipation of San’s passion.

San started moving slowly, and he wasn’t necessarily gentle, but he wasn’t wrecking you quite yet either. His hands gripped your waist as he rolled his hips into you, sensual moans pouring out of your mouth. San’s big, fat cock was always satisfying, but you couldn’t help but want more.

“Baby,” you whined, finally finding your voice. “F-faster…”

“Faster?”

You gulped and nodded urgently. “And h-harder…”

“Faster and harder, you say?”

“Faster and harder, please.”

You barely begging was enough for him to go crazy. Gritting his teeth, San sped his thrusts up rapidly. He moved his hands from your waist so that they were pressed against the sofa cushion. He lowered his upper body so that his chest rubbed against yours. He kissed you passionately to the point where you felt like you were going to fall off the couch.

You were pretty much gone when San pulled out of you and flipped you over so that you were on all fours on the couch. You struggled to keep yourself upright as San fucked you from behind at the same pace he was going at just moments ago. Your moans got louder with every thrust, and stars collected in your vision as he repeatedly rubbed against your G-spot while gripping onto your ass tightly.

“Fuck,” you heard San hiss under his breath— you mindlessly clenched, which brought San even closer to cumming. “You’re so fucking tight I feel like you’re going to snap my dick in half, love.”

There wasn’t a single thought in your head at that point. The way San was holding onto you and moving at what felt like the speed of light only evoked moans and sighs from you. Your arms, at some point, gave, and you moved to your elbows. The elevation of your ass as well as the fact that you somehow got even tighter did it for him.

“Fuck, oh shit! I’m gonna cum,” San groaned loudly, his voice nearly cracking. “Lemme cum inside you, my love.”

“O— Oh! Okay,” you cried out as you felt yourself also nearing your climax.

With one final slam, San thrust all the way inside you, his cock hitting your cervix, and his cum filling you up. Even after he finished cumming and the throbbing and twitching of his dick stopped, he continued to move in and out of you. Yet, the continued friction wasn’t enough to get you to cum again. You brought your fingers to your clit and drew circles, desperately trying to get yourself to cum again because you were so close.

“My baby wants to cum again, does she?” San asked quietly with a little bit of a chuckle.

“Mmhmm,” you responded with a desperate moan.

“Lemme help you then.”

Pulling out completely, San moved so that he was sitting on the couch normally. He brought you onto his lap and rubbed his penis against your clit a couple times, then he lifted you and slipped his cock into you. You cried out and leaned backwards into him. You could feel his length go deep inside you in that position, and in an instant, you were ready to cum. It was when San brought his hand in between your legs and rubbed your clit quickly did you hit your climax. San’s name echoed through your home as your cries turned into whimpers.

San moved you so that you were laying down on the couch, letting you catch your breath as he disappeared into the kitchen to bring back water. He helped you sit up again so that you could drink the water in peace before sitting right next to you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and leaned into you again, his nose brushing against your ear and jawline while you sat in a complete daze.

“My love, my darling,” San whispered pet names into your ear as he left light smooches along the slope of your neck. “You’re so fucking beautiful and sexy all the time, but you look sexiest when you look fucked out by me.” 

“Is that so?” you asked— your body and brain were slowly starting to recover.

“Yes,” San turned your head and kissed you passionately while sucking hard on your lower lip to the point where your entire body lurched.

“Yes.”

park seonghwa

Moonlight bathed your bedroom in a gentle glow as you laid alongside your sleeping boyfriend. You traced the contours of his face, your fingertips gliding over his cheekbones with a feather touch. As you outlined his face, you couldn’t help but think about the fact that this man looked so beautiful despite wearing that fucking wife beater that made him all sorts of cocky. Your fingers ghosted over his lips and lingered there, your thumb pulling down delicately on his lower lip.

Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered open as he took your thumb into his mouth, making you flinch slightly at the sudden action. You felt your face flush as he sucked gently on your thumb then ran his tongue all over the entirety of it. His teeth gently grazed the skin as he released your thumb.

“You’re awake?” you asked softly.

“Now I am…”

While tucking your hair behind your ear, Seonghwa cupped your face with a delicate touch. You tilted your head into his hand and let out a soft sigh with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to admire your beautiful features.”

“Uh huh, that’s why you were teasing me,” he retorted, amusement laced in his tone. “Well, now that I’m awake, make it up to me.”

“How would you like me to do that?”

Seonghwa let go of you and pushed himself up so that his back was pressed against the headboard. His hands reached for your waist and guided you so that you were sitting in between his legs. Brushing your hair behind your ear, he started leaving light kisses along the slope of your neck, his exhales tickling your skin and making goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“What do you think you’re doing wearing nothing but my shirt to bed, sweetheart?” he whispered sensually into your ear.

Slipping under the shirt, his fingers tiptoed their way up towards your breasts. A gasp followed by a moan escaped you as you felt him grope your breasts and begin to tug at your nipples lightly with a firm pinch.

“I’m wearing panties, too,” you managed to get out.

“Oh, you mean these?”

Seonghwa released one of your breasts, his hand moving down to your panties. He stroked your cunt through panties with two fingers, his fingers pressing into you. Your panties got soaking wet rapidly the more he stroked you. Wanting to control your moans, you turned your head, Seonghwa’s lips meeting yours immediately. He kissed you slowly, lovingly, passionately. You ended up sighing into his mouth the more you kissed him, your hips unconsciously rocking into his fingers.

The more you moved your hips, the harder Seonghwa got. You felt his bulge press against you. You moved your hand so that you were palming his crotch to the point where the tip of his penis was poking out of his briefs.

“Strip for me, sweetheart. I don’t think I can wait much longer,” Seonghwa muttered, a slight groan accompanying his words.

You sat up and immediately did as he requested. Your clothes fell to the ground, Seonghwa’s following suit. Seonghwa sat before you and guided you so that you sat right across from him, your legs on either side of him and his legs on either side of you. You felt his hand comb through your hair from the bottom up before bringing you back towards his lips.

Seonghwa ran his hands up and down your back and waist the more the two of you kissed. The sounds of your lips locking echoed in the silent room, only for sighs to join them. You felt him roll his hips against yours, his cock raring to enter you. You could only sigh happily as Seonghwa trailed his lips from yours down your neck, leaving small, pink marks in their wake.

Pushing you back slightly, Seonghwa adjusted himself so he could rub his cock against your sopping pussy and sensitive clit. Your arms trembled at the feeling of his veiny length against you. You flung your head back and sighed loudly with pleasure, your body unable to bear his teasing any longer. Luckily for you, Seonghwa couldn’t bear it anymore, either.

Pushing his cock into you slowly, Seonghwa began to rock his hips into you at a slow pace. You felt your brain completely melt away as you felt the man’s dick stroke your walls at varied angles just because of the way he was rolling his hips. It didn’t even register in your head that he had pulled you towards him until he moved you himself, his hands assisting you in moving back and forth.

Little yelps escaped you when Seonghwa moved the two of you to the point where your waists slapped loudly. You were clinging to his shoulders as he fucked you sitting there like that, but your hold on him was weakening the more your heads entered the clouds and saw stars.

“Oh, my sweetheart. You feel good, huh?”

You brought your teary gaze to meet his lusty one and gave him a slight nod. With a small smile, Seonghwa pulled out and laid you down on the bed, his hand brushing your hair from your face and cradling the back of your head while his other hand held onto your waist. He left you with a brief kiss before his hands moved down to your thighs and spread your legs.

You genuinely thought Seonghwa was going enter you again, so you were completely surprised when all he did was rub his length along your clit again while also sucking on your tits. Your arms wrapped around him while he continued to suck, his mouth opening up and creating a different sort of suction feeling that made your toes curl and your waist move up.

Seonghwa could sense your impatience, so he moved down on you, his hands pushing your thighs further. He didn’t even bother teasing you at that point— he fully ate you out. He shoved his face into your pussy, his tongue diving deep into you and licking up all of your slick. Your fingers raked through his hair and held on tightly. Whenever Seonghwa’s tongue did something you liked, you would pull and moan loudly, making him do what he was doing even more intensely.

Your moans turned into cries as you felt yourself nearing your climax. Seonghwa’s tongue was flicking your clit relentlessly at that point, and you made brief eye contact with him as he looked up at you with his sultry eyes before flinging your head back into the mattress. It was only when Seonghwa slipped two fingers into you and fingered you quickly did you cum, and you came loudly. You cried out his name as he kept fingering you while you squirted all over his fingers and hand.

Recovering from the high, your cries turned into whimpers. You opened your teary eyes to see Seonghwa move himself up to you and kissed you sensually, giving you a taste of yourself, your sweet self.

Continuing to kiss you, Seonghwa slipped his cock into you again and rolled his body into yours. Your arms and legs wrapped around him, and you kissed him harder as you felt his throbbing length thrust into you steadily. You hummed into his mouth as you felt the friction build, your sanity starting to slip away once more. But, he was going too slow and steady for you, which you only noticed after you stopped moaning and focused on sucking on his lips and tongue repeatedly.

Seonghwa immediately changed his tempo. Moving away from you, Seonghwa gripped your waist firmly and thrust roughly into you. You let out a sonorous, pleasureful moan upon the impact, and you continued to moan as he continued to slam his waist into yours.

You were gripping the bedsheets tightly the more Seonghwa made love to you, and you nearly tore a hole into the sheets when Seonghwa moved so that he was kneeling, elevating your waist. You gasped when you felt his hand rest on your stomach and guided you, his thumb pressing into your clit. Your hips moved in circles as he fucked you, and his thumb circled around your clit repeatedly.

Seeing the way your eyes went hazy and the way you sucked in breaths through gritted teeth sparked something within him. His hands moved to your waist and he fucked you fast and hard. The wet slaps of his thrusts rang in your ears, only to be replaced by Seonghwa’s rough breathing when he dropped himself down so that his lips were dangerously close to your ear.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa muttered.

Hearing the profanity leave your boyfriend’s lips did it. You did your best to cling to him and the last of your sanity as you felt another orgasm overcome you, the stars reappearing in your vision.

Seonghwa, too, was there. He came with you, his cum spurting into you several times, his cock twitching wildly as it continued to release. Even after he was completely emptied, Seonghwa kept his dick inside you as he laid down. He brought a very fucked out and exhausted you into his embrace, his arms enveloping you to his chest. You heard his heart beat slow down after a couple moments of quiet breathing.

“Did I make it up to you, baby?” you whispered after feeling some of your brain cells being to function again.

“Definitely.”

[thewalkingthread]

"I've been thinking" - D.D.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader

summary: After witnessing how good Daryl takes care of Judith and RJ, you think it's about time y'all have one of your own.

warning: fluff

a/n: I love soft Daryl.

You and Daryl had been through more than your fair share of hardships, having faced the trials of the apocalypse together. Your bond had only grown stronger over the years, and now, after the war in Commonwealth settled, you and your community found a place to call home. Despite the chaos of the world outside, you had finally had a semblance of peace and security among friends, new and old. Hell- you guys even had a dog now.

It was sunny today, Judith and RJ ran around on the street with some of the other kids. They screamed and hollered as they played tag, a heart melting smile spread across their faces. Just kids being kids.

You and Daryl sat on the front porch of your house with Dog. Daryl's crossbow rested against the wall as he sharpened the points of his arrows. You watched the kids, you had a smile that mirrored their contagious ones.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, his voice soft, he glanced at you briefly before he continued to work on his arrows.

You nod your head, your eyes still fixated on the kids. "I've been thinking,"

"That can't be good," Daryl scoffed, teasingly. You roll your eyes, reaching over and bumping his shoulder with your fist. "Bout wha?" He asks.

You shrug your shoulders, glancing down at the glass of water in your hands. "The future." You said simply.

Daryl looked up, curiosity evident in his stormy blue eyes. "The future, huh? What's on your mind?" He placed the arrow on the table, giving you his undivided attention.

"Well," You began, a faint blush coloring their cheeks, "I've been thinking about this for a while, but it never seemed like the right time. I mean these past few years have been so... crazy." You wince.

"But now, everything feels right. We're safe. Here, in commonwealth. The kids are safe here, we've got something good going. Something real." You hated saying it, knowing you felt the exact same way with the prison, with Alexandria. I don't think anywhere in this world would ever be safe, but here felt like it.

"We've been dealt some shitty cards. With Rick and Michonne gone, we've basically been given all their responsibility. I know we have to lead these people. I know we have to keep Jude and RJ safe. But I can't help but notice how great you are with Judith and RJ. You're a natural, Daryl. We take care of them like they're our own and-" Your voice trails off, losing the confidence to finish.

"Spit it out, woman." He grunts, staring into your eyes knowingly.

"I want to expand our family... Have one of our own?" You raise an eyebrow, "I wouldn't mind a little Dixon running around."

Daryl paused, his hands grasping yours. He looked at you with the softest eyes, his heart swelling with love and tenderness. "You serious?"

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "Yeah, Daryl. I am. I think we're ready. I mean you're obviously going to be one hell of a dad."

Daryl's rough exterior couldn't hide the softness that your words had brought out in him. He scooted closer to you, holding both of your hands tightly in his. "You really think that?"

You smiled, your love for Daryl shining in your eyes. You've been with Daryl from the beginning. Him and Merle found you alone in a convenient store the day everything went to shit. After months of pining over each other you finally bit the bullet at the prison and made it official. Though the two of you been through hell the past 10 years you're here, together.

"Absolutely. I've seen the way you protect and care for those kids, the way you take care of me. It makes my heart ache with how much I love you. We're building something here. I want to start a family with you."

Daryl leaned in, capturing your lips with a tender kiss. It felt just like it did the first time all those years ago. "I love you too, Y/N. Let's do it. We'll make it work, no matter what. Us against the world. The way it's always been."

His arms wrapped around your body and pulled your close to him.

"Are you two okay?" Judith's voice caused the two of you to pull away from each other. Her eyebrow was raised suspiciously at you two. You and Daryl both burst into a fit of chuckles.

"How would you feel helping Auntie Y/N out with a baby?" Daryl's voice was scuffed. Judith's eyes just about popped out as she jumped into y'alls lap.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She cheered. "About time!" She laughed. Dog barked, oblivious to what was happening but happy to see everyone happy.

You and Daryl exchanged amused glances. Deep down inside you both knew you'd be okay. Whatever happened next, you'd handle it together.

[deathmetalangel]

HARDLY SEEMS FAIR

robby keene x fem! reader

warnings: "casual" relationship", swearing, arguments, crying, heavily ldr coded, implied hookups, slut shaming, cheating, angsty

“in what world is that fair robby?"

oke so this is kinda a retconnned chapter from my wattpad book that i'm just extending and making more ambigious instead of clearly x oc. i hope y'all like it tho. i am sorry i have been gone for so long :(

Y/n plays with the ends of Robby's hair. He was laying with his head in her lap while they just relaxed in her room. It was calm, domestic. A small and very rare moment for just the two of them. No outside force would intrude and break their safe haven. There was no what if's that lingered in the air. Nor past resentments that hung over them like an ominous cloud determined to damper their moods. 

It was just Y/n and Robby. And that's all they'll ever be. No labels. She figured that much after the last time she'd brought it up. But she's become so full of him she can't even bring herself to care. She'd rather have what they have now, whatever it may be with him. Rather than risking losing him, and the routine she's started to build around him. 

She hums softly. Her mind far off. "Y/n?" She hymns in acknowledgement without turning her head. "Something happened this weekend."

He was lying. This had been going on for weeks. He had been having doubts for weeks. He'd been seeing her for weeks. "What happened? Another karate fight?" She wasn't the girl who got heartbroken. She was never the second choice. She got what she wanted. And she wanted him, however she could have him.

"I kissed Sam Larusso."

Y/n freezes. Her body betraying her as she tenses up. She has no right, she knows that. They were 'casual'. Just her and Robby. Non-commital.

"I mean big deal right? We were drunk anyways. Just felt bad not telling you. I know were not dating so it's really not your business, but don't worry about it. I mean we've fucked so often what does a kiss even mean?"

A kiss. To her it meant everything. An act of intimacy that they rarley ever shared. So innocent, so pure.

"Get out of my room Robby." Y/n mumbles, her voice above a whisper. The teen sits up from her lap and looks at her incredalously. He was only telling her to keep her in the loop. She didnt have the right to be mad. So why was she making a big deal about this?

"What?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of my room Keene."

He furrows his brows in a toxic coctail of anger and confusion. "Why? You can't get pissed at me for this Y/n. We aren't fucking dating. Don't get all aggro on me like you're some psycho girlfriend when you're a friend with benefits at best."

Y/n stands up and pushes the boy out of her room. "Get the fuck out of here Robby! If it didn't mean anything why don't you go fuck her then? Go whine about your mommy issues and daddy issues to her and leave me the hell alone."

"You have some nerve you know that right? Don't act all high and mighty now. You're a whore. Why the hell would I ever actually take you seriously when I can get everything I want without the label or work. You're easy, I could never do that shit with Sam."

Her breath was stuck in her throat as the boy she truly thought cared began to berate her as if she was a random person on the street. The boy she suffered for. The boy that was really never her's to keep. Y/n forces herself to wipe her anrgy tears and push Robby once again.

Y/n's hands were shaky, she desprately wanted to cry. To scream. To give in and give him the satisfaction of getting to her. "Oh so you can come over whenever you want, make me listen to your shitty life, and basically force yourself into my own life, but all that means nothing right? Well guess what Kenne. You kissed her, and she still doesn't want you!" She presses her finger into his chest while her voice level rises. "That same girl is still with Miguel. So just because you wanna jump ship and 'upgrade' doesn't mean she wants anything to do with you. Face it babe, you're just white trash."

"Shut the fuck up Y/n." Robby practically spits back.

"Oh, so you can disrespect me and belittle me in my own fucking room, but when its you its a problem? Grow up Robby. You're a man baby and a hypocrite. In what world is that fair Robby? Maybe in your little made up fantasy where Sam picks you and you leave me for dead. So go stay there. Cause you're sure as hell not welcome here."

Y/n throws everything he's given her at him. Every last peice a memory they shared together. Posters, drawings, braclets, anything that adorned her room. All of it thrown to him and crashing down like victims of a violent storm. Tears streamed down her face as he backed up to her door.

She opens the door for him and grabs his sweater and keys before shoving it in his chest. The boy watches her dumbfounded.

"Stay away from me Robby. Go back to some other slut that can put up with your baggage and shitty attitude for one night stand status. Because I'm done."

He looks at her, but there wasn't the girl he knew looking back at him. Not with how she glared, not with how she stood, and not with how she felt. Her eyes, the e/c irises reflected love, now they were dark. Harbors for her contempt. The grimace on her face was unforgettable. Especially as the last thing he seen before she slammed her door on his face.

Robby swallows the spit in his mouth, a hard lump of guilt not wanting to go down. He didn't think any of this would happen. He wanted her to care, but he didn't want to fight. His temper, his father's god forsaken temper, and his own damned ego.

He wanted what he had with her, with Sam. The girl next door with a rich family and big house. Like something out of a book. Not the girl that did whatever he said for the sake of making him happy. He really did want to just abandon her, didn't he? After everything.

Choking back his frustrations the boy marches down her stairs and lets himself out. He liked what he had with her, but he wouldn't fight for her. Guys only did that for the girl they want.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 31: Warmth

You cope with the aftermath of patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Fall out from canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8k

A/N: Hi y'all. This does have a continuation of the spoilers from TLOU2. Again, I'm so sorry for not warning about these further in advance. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a DM (or you can always yell in the comments or in my asks. I don't delete things if they're not the kindest so I'll leave whatever you want to send my way up, I totally get it.) Thanks for being here ❤️

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It shouldn’t be this hard to stay conscious when the world is ending. 

You’d had the thought before, in the early days of the outbreak. When you were trying to find someplace safe and had no idea where to start, when you were just riding and riding and hoping you’d be alive to see the next morning. 

But now was different. It wasn’t your life, it was Joel’s. His was so much more important than your own and the fear of losing him was keeping you awake. You’d nod off for a second - you thought, anyway - only to jerk back awake when your grip on his wrist slipped and his pulse wasn’t a constant - if weak - drumbeat below your fingers. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been on the floor with him. Things were fuzzy. You’d lost a lot of blood, you were familiar with that sensation now, you could identify it even as your mind was foggy. You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened. You remembered Joel screaming - you didn’t think you’d ever forget that horrific sound - and running to find him. You remembered watching as that girl swung the golf club down on his body. It wasn’t until you were already in the room, fighting for control of your gun with someone who looked like he was about Ellie’s age that you realized this was probably a mistake. You’d charged in without a plan to get backup, you were hugely outnumbered, no one knew where the fuck you were. You should have at least gone back for your horse, you were pretty sure she could have fit down here and you could have used sheer size and weight to clear the room. 

But they were killing him. That’s all that could force that sound from someone, life and death, and you couldn’t risk it. If there was a chance, even a tiny one, that you could save him, you were going to take it. Even if it killed you, you were going to take it. 

The threat was gone now - or you hoped it was, at least. Gatling was still on guard. You could feel how tense she was behind you, her body engaged and ready to strike. If they came back armed to the teeth before help arrived, though, you’d be finished. 

Joel’s wrist, the one you’d been holding, relaxed some and you forced yourself to sit up. 

“Joel?” You managed, adjusting your hold on him. His whole arm was limp now. Your heart beat faster. You released his wrist and pressed your fingers into his neck, where you liked to kiss him and feel the vital thrum of his pulse through his skin. It was faint but it was there. You adjusted yourself, propping yourself up on your elbow as your cut side screamed in pain, and you ran your fingers through his hair. You took comfort in the fact that you still could do that. While the rest of his body had been brutalized, Joel’s head was intact outside of where it looked like someone had landed a punch on his cheek near his eye, a bruise blossoming on his skin but no blood shed. It was like the girl had been saving his head for last, like she was trying to draw it out, make sure he was alive and awake while she hurt him. It turned your stomach. 

“You’re OK Joel,” you held face gently in your hand. “Gonna get you out of here, get you back to Ellie. You’re OK.” 

You stayed propped up like that for a while, just talking to him and running your fingers gently through his hair and feeling his breath on your skin until you were too weak to hold yourself up anymore. You collapsed alongside him then, trying to shield his body with yours as much as you could in case the people came back. 

Just a little sleep. That’s all. That’s what you needed, just enough rest to be able to think straight. Then you could figure out how to get Tommy and Joel back to Jackson. 

“Gatling,” you managed before you passed out. “Guard.” 

You woke up to snarling. 

Your head was swimming and you could feel the strength of the dog at your side, her body pressed back against you as she growled and barked. You tried to get your bearings as quickly as you could, fumbling for the rifles you’d brought to Joel’s side. 

“Bambi!” You recognized Ellie’s voice. “Bambi, call off Gatling, she won’t listen to me, we can’t get close enough…” 

“Gatling,” you gritted your teeth, your cut side burning and pulling as you tried to sit up. “Down.” 

You felt her relax and she gave a little whine before curling up against you and giving you a lick. You managed to prop yourself up on your uninjured side, eyes fighting to focus as Ellie, Jesse, Julie and Gene came in. Ellie ran for Joel, Gatling giving a little whine as she tracked her with her eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Gene said as he got a good look at Joel. 

“He’s alive,” Ellie said, her voice cracking. “I thought…” 

“I know,” you adjusted so you could see him, check on his bandages. Your side protested, damaged skin pulling painfully. “But we have to get him to the doctor, we have to move him now…” 

“I don’t know that we can,” Gene knelt next to Ellie, looking Joel up and down. 

You frowned. 

“The fuck do you mean you don’t know.” 

“I mean,” he said gently. “We need to move quick, already been here too long, and we only have so many hands. I don’t know that he can make it back to Jackson and we should focus on…” 

“Fuck you,” your teeth were clenched, sweat starting at your temples from the strain of sitting upright. “We are not just gonna leave him out here…” 

“If we can save you and Tommy?” Gene said. “Then that’s what we should do. That’s what he’d want.” 

“Fuck you!” Ellie looked murderous. “Bambi’s right…” 

“C’mon,” Julie’s hands gently enveloped your shoulders. “Let’s try to get you up…” 

“I’m not going!” You wrenched yourself out of her grip and cried out in pain, a gush of blood coming from the wound at your side. “I’m not going without him, I’m not leaving him here!” 

Julie’s hands were on you again but you pulled yourself free, forcing yourself to your knees. 

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt,” Gene warned, moving for you, too, but you ignored him. 

“Gatling!” You managed through clenched teeth. Her head sprang up. “Guard!” 

She jumped to her feet and jumped between you and Gene. 

“Bambi,” he said cautiously, hands up, as your dog snapped her jaws and snarled at him. 

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” you were panting for breath. “You can’t make me, not with her like this. She’ll kill you and I’ll fuckin’ let her. Take him. Now.” 

Gene looked back at Jesse, who was helping Tommy sit up. He just shrugged. Gene looked back to you. 

“Fine,” he said. “But you gotta give us some space to work, can’t move him with her like this…” 

You struggled to your feet, using Julie’s shoulder as leverage, and you limped to the wall, all but collapsing against it. Gatling stayed on you, staring Gene down, seeming to trust Julie as you leaned against her. 

“She’s guardin’ me,” you said. “Won’t bother you over there. Move him. Do it.” 

You watched as Gene, Jesse and Ellie got Joel off the floor and out of the room. There was a perverse spot on the ground where his body had been, his blood pooled there. There was so much of it, so much it didn’t seem like there would be any left inside of him. You remembered, suddenly, Justin on the night of the outbreak. How you’d tried to put his blood back inside of him in the hopes that it would save him. How could you save the man you loved if all his blood was on the floor? 

“He’s alive?” Tommy asked from his place propped against the wall. There was a streak of blood down his face. 

“He’s alive,” you said. He closed his eyes and nodded, leaning his head against the wall. 

“Thank you,” he said, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “I can’t…” 

“It’s OK,” you said. “We’ll get him back. He’ll be OK. He will.” 

You weren’t sure you believed it.

Jesse came back down and helped Tommy up before stopping near the door, keeping a safe distance from you and Gatling. 

“We got him on a horse,” he said. “We gotta move.” 

You gave him a nod and watched him get Tommy started on the stairs before you looked down at Gatling, her body drawn tight, ready to spring into action. 

“Gatling. Heel.” 

She looked up at you, muscle relaxing, and licked her lips. 

“You’re a good girl,” you said, trying to imbue as much praise into your voice as you could manage. “You did real good.” 

She wagged a little uncertainly and watched, waiting to follow you. Julie looped your arm around her shoulders while hers slipped around your waist and she helped you toward the stairs, taking it slow. You had to stop and rest once, not able to breathe, the warm gush of your blood when you pulled the air down low in your lungs making your head spin. 

“Think you can make it?” Julie asked, concerned. 

You nodded, wincing. 

“I’ll make it,” you said. “I know, we have to move.” 

She held you a little tighter and the cold air burned your lungs when you made it outside. Joel was draped over Ares, Gene mounted up behind him. Tommy was on his own horse, blood still on his face as he stared blankly at Joel’s limp body. 

“You can ride with me,” Julie said but you shook your head. You weren’t about to not be in control of a horse, not in this situation. You needed to have the power if something went wrong. You couldn’t trust anyone else to make Joel a priority if there were infected or raiders or, worst of all, the people who had attacked him to begin with. You needed to be able to move to protect him. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, even though you knew getting on Renaissance was going to hurt something fierce. “Don’t need to be slowin’ us down any more by putting two of us on a horse.” 

She went to protest but you pulled away from her and swallowed the sounds of your pain as you went to Renaissance and pulled yourself onto her. You called Gatling onto your saddle, too, and she settled there, still on high alert. You guided the horse to be alongside Gene and Joel and stared Gene down, almost daring him to fight you on it. 

“I want to get everyone back,” he said gently. “But if it’s not everyone, I want as many as I can get.” 

“Then let’s go,” you bit out. 

The ride back to Jackson felt long, longer than it really was, you were sure. Every step Renaissance made was painful. It was hard to stay conscious when you’d lost so much blood and the pain was blinding. You were terrified that something was going to happen, that someone was going to pick now to attack people from Jackson and that you wouldn’t be strong enough to save Joel. The thought was constant and overbearing, hollowing out your chest and making your stomach clench. 

By the time the walls of the city were in view, you were barely able to stay on your horse. Dina had ridden ahead to tell the doctors and the council what was happening and you were thankful for it as your head spun and vision grew spotty as you neared the gates. You were too out of it to notice that someone was there to catch you as your strength started to give out.

“Woah there!” You vaguely recognized Ryan, a guard you regularly saw when he went out on patrol, stomach turning as he lowered you to the snow. “Hey Doc! Got one here!” 

“No,” you shook your head, words starting to slur. The blood on your clothes was cold against your skin. “M’fine… Joel, need to help Joel…” 

“They’re getting him,” he said, looking down at you. He had a nice face, you thought. Pleasant and calming. “You got him back here, it’s OK. We’ll get you taken care of, it’s alright…” 

“Joel,” you closed your eyes. At least things were warmer here. It hurt less. “Need… Joel…” 

“We’ve got him,” Ryan said. His voice sounded so far away. “It’s alright, we’ve got him.” 

You barely remembered nodding before you passed out. 

You were warmer when you woke up. 

Sound came first. It took a moment before you could open your eyes but you could hear the muffled sounds of bickering not far away. For half a moment, you thought you were in Joel’s bed. That he and Ellie were in a tiff just outside his bedroom door, going back and forth about some harebrained scheme that one of them had latched onto. You thought about pressing your face into the pillow and trying to go back to sleep, hoping that Joel would come in once one of them wore the other down. He did that sometimes when he woke up before you, bringing you a cup of tea and setting it on the nightstand before wrapping around you, pulling you into his broad chest and burying his face in your hair or your neck, kissing you and breathing you in until you stirred in his arms. 

And then you remembered. Waking up next to Joel. Going on Patrol. The storm. The blood. 

You tried to sit up before your eyes were open, side pulling and head spinning. 

“Hey guys, she’s waking up!” 

Your eyes had never been heavier but you forced them open anyway, already reaching and groping to figure out where you’d ended up. 

The room was bright, the bed soft. It was the third time you’d managed to dodge death and awoken, confused and lightheaded, in Jackson’s clinic. The other bed was empty.  

“Joel,” you started trying to get up but two small hands held you in bed and you frowned, ready to fight whoever was holding you back, but it was Savvy, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, curls springing in every direction. 

“Mom, you have to be calm, you’ll rip your stitches…” 

She was here. She was with you, willing to talk to you, touch you. The sound of her voice, all gentle concern, made your chest tighten. You just looked at her for a moment, seeking out the minute changes in her since you’d gotten a chance to see her - really see her - last. You thought she might be having her last growth spurt. She looked a little longer, her face a little thinner. There was a scratch on her cheek that you wanted to kiss like you did when she was little. There were tears in her eyes. 

“Savvy…” 

“I was so scared,” her voice cracked. “I thought you might be dead, I thought…” 

“Oh honey,” you pulled her against you and held her to your chest, one arm looping around her waist, the other hand cradling her head to you, the wet of her tears on your neck. You kissed her temple and tried to keep the tears that were starting to cling to your eyelashes from falling. “It’s OK, you’re alright, I’ve got you. Don’t have to be scared, you’re OK.” 

“I’ve never seen you like that,” she sniffed from her place against your skin. “You’re always so strong, you’re never hurt, not like that…” 

“I know,” you said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m sorry, Honey, I wish you hadn’t seen that. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never see it again and we can talk all about it but baby, I need to know where Joel is. Is he here? Is he OK? Is he alive?” 

She sniffed and started to pull back from you as the door opened, Ellie, Tommy, Maria and Dr. Livingston coming in. They moved slowly, cautiously. Like they were worried you would startle if they behaved normally. Tommy looked washed out, Ellie exhausted, both with grim looks on their faces. Your arms went limp and Savvy sat back from you, looking between you and them. 

“No,” you shook your head, a lump growing in your throat. “No, no, you’re wrong, he’s not…” 

“He’s alive,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “Barely. But you got him here just in time, it was very very close while we worked on him…” 

“Where is he,” you tried to get up again but Savvy held you down. “I need to see him, just for a second, please…” 

“He’s still unconscious,” Dr. Livingston continued. 

You frowned, looking between everyone. 

“That’s bad,” you said, reading their expressions. “Why… How long has it been?”

“We’ve been back about two and a half days,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You nodded slowly. That made sense to you.

“He was hurt bad,” you said, looking between them again. “He lost a lot of blood…” 

“He did,” Dr. Livingston said. “But… well, we’d normally expect to see more from him by now. He’s breathing on his own - we don’t have the facilities to keep him alive if he can’t - but that’s the best we can really say for him. He’s… he’s unresponsive.” 

You processed what she said for a moment.

“You’re sure?” 

She nodded, her mouth a thin line. 

“Are you…” You had to close your eyes and focus for a second. None of this came easy or naturally. It was utterly unnatural, thinking of Joel in that way. He was so strong, so vital. He couldn’t just stop being like that. He couldn’t just fade away into nothing like that. “Are you saying he might not wake up?” 

“The longer he’s like this, the more likely it becomes,” Dr. Livingston said. 

“But he’s still alive,” you said, looking back toward Ellie and Tommy again, looking for that reassurance that you weren’t crazy. They knew him, they knew that he wouldn’t just disappear from his body like that. “He’s still breathing.” 

“He’s alive,” she said. “But he might be brain dead, we have no way of knowing right now, no way of scanning for brain function like we did before… I’m so sorry, but you have to consider the possibility that…” 

“Take me to see him,” you cut her off. She looked at Maria, worry in her eyes, like she thought you might be unstable. “Please.” 

Dr. Livingston sighed. 

“You’ve got a fair few fresh stitches and you’re still down plenty of blood yourself. We’ll have to take it slow.” 

Ellie and Savvy helped you stand up and you could feel the wounds on your leg and stomach protesting the movement. For a moment, you thought you might be able to count the number of stitches in your skin because the way it pulled and strained. You hissed and clutched the girls’ hands, squeezing their fingers so hard that you could only hope it didn’t hurt them. 

They helped you across a short hallway to a room that was almost identical to the one you’d been in, just with one fewer bed, giving people more room to work. Joel was there, flat on his back, his arms down straight at his sides over the top of the blanket. But he looked strange, unnatural. 

It took you a moment to recognized the part of it that was wrong. His chest rose and fell, the worst of his injuries hidden by the quilt. He looked like he was sleeping. But it was off. He never slept like that, straight as a board with his arms at his sides in that way. It wasn’t like him, it wasn’t the way his body arranged itself when he was relaxed. Even when he wasn’t curled around you, he slept on his side or, if he was on his back, his hands were folded and resting where his chest met his stomach. He napped on the couch that way sometimes, when he was sleeping lightly, waiting for you. You could come in and press a kiss to his forehead and he would open one eye and cock a smile at you, just big enough that his cheek would dimple. 

But if your lips touched him now, you knew he’d be still. He wouldn’t look at you like you made him happy just by existing. His cheek wouldn’t dimple. 

You made your way to a chair near the head of the bed and lowered yourself into it slowly. His skin was pale, his face totally lax in a way that wasn’t peaceful and was, instead, like an echo. 

“Oh God,” you breathed, one hand going to your lips. 

“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Livingston said gently. “We have ways to get him fluids and nutrients but… it’s nothing long term. We’ll just have to hope he makes a turn for the better.”

You nodded, not able to stop looking at him. His body was so empty, so unlike him. 

“Can I stay with him?” You asked quietly. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying but you were. 

“Sure,” she said. “For now. But you need rest…” 

You just nodded. You’d fight that battle when the time came. 

The doctor left you with the girls, Tommy and Maria. Joel’s family and yours. All the people you had in the world in this one, small room. 

“I was going to go home and get changed, take a nap…” Ellie said quietly. “Can I bring you something?” 

“One of his shirts?” You asked. 

“Sure,” she said. You heard the door open and she paused. “You did everything you could, Bambi. We all did.” 

You nodded, not willing to argue with her. 

“I think Tommy and I will get out of here for a bit, too,” Maria said. “Give you some time. We’ll be back in a few hours unless I can actually get my husband to get some real sleep…” 

“He wouldn’t be sleepin’ if it were me,” Tommy said, voice sharper than you were used to hearing. 

Maria sighed. 

“Come on, honey,” she said. “You need rest, too.” 

The room was quiet for a moment, so quiet you could hear the sound of Joel’s shallow breaths. You wanted to put your head on his chest and listen to the life inside him, reassure yourself that he was still in there somewhere, but you didn’t want to hurt him. You’d already done enough. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was soft. “Is it… can I stay? For a bit?” 

You managed to pull your eyes away from Joel to find her, standing to the side, her arms tight over her chest. 

“Of course baby,” you said, looking for another chair. She found one first, moving it to be beside yours. She settled in there, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. She was looking at Joel, her face drawn. “How have you been?” 

She shrugged noncommittally. 

“Alright, I guess,” she said. “School is OK. Math is stupid.” 

You laughed lightly once. 

“Math’s not stupid but… I know what you mean. Wasn’t ever my strong suit. I liked history best. And music, of course.” 

“Course,” she smiled a little. “I like Ellie and… I like staying where I have been but… I missed you. Missed home.” 

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. 

“I missed you, too,” you said, voice wet. “So much. More than anything.” 

She nodded slowly, not looking at you. 

“I heard the doctors and some other people talking,” she said hesitantly. “What they were saying… It’s not the first time they’ve seen you hurt like this.” 

You waited for a moment, to make sure she was done. 

“It’s not,” you said. 

She nodded again. 

“How did you end up here?” She asked quietly. 

“I…” You sighed and tried to find the best way to phrase it. “I’d wound up with some bad people. I got hurt. Joel found me when I was in real bad shape. He brought me here. He saved me.” 

“When was that?” 

“About two years ago,” you said. 

“So you weren’t just here the whole time,” she said, more like a statement than a question. 

“No,” you said softly. “I wasn’t.” 

She nodded again. You could see her processing the information, her eyes slightly squinting as she did, so like her father used to do. It still tugged at your heart, bits and pieces of a man you’d loved still alive in his child. 

“I’m still not sure how I feel,” she said, gnawing on her lower lip. “But… I don’t want to keep being mad at you. I miss you. I’d… I’d like to find a way to see you. At least some. For now.” 

“I’d like that,” you said, sniffing a little. “I’d like that a lot. As much time as you want, honey, I’m here.” 

“OK,” she smiled a tight lipped smile at you before looking to Joel. “Do you really think he’ll wake up?” 

You sighed, looking at him, too. 

“I don’t really know anything about medicine,” you said. “But… I do know Joel. And I don’t knot that there’s anything that can keep him from taking care of the people he loves. And I know he knows Ellie needs him, you need him. And I…” your voice cracked. “I need him. He’s strong. He can pull through.” 

She nodded and slowly, gently, rested her head on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, not wanting to disturb her. But, eventually, you had to take a breath and she stayed there beside you, keeping vigil over the man who had become her guardian. 

Savvy ended up staying until after dark. Ellie came back only about an hour and a half after she left, bringing some clothes for you. You immediately put on the shirt, pressing your nose to the collar and breathing in Joel’s scent. She told you then that Savvy hadn’t left the clinic since you’d come in, always at your bedside, nearly ripping off the doctors’ heads when they dared suggest that she go home and get some rest. 

Ellie got her to go home that evening, though, after she gave you a delicate hug that, you thought, might be one of the best ones you’d ever gotten. Dr. Livingston wanted to keep you there for another few days, not something you were going to argue with since you weren’t about to leave while Joel was still there, anyway. She did make you move back to the other room and you gave up the fight quickly, waiting until you heard her leave for the night before going back across the hall, anyway. It was tricky, walking on your own when you were still healing, but you made it without any more blood leaking from you. You pulled your chair close to Joel and looked him over, tracing one finger over the soft skin of his cheek. He still looked so unnatural in this position, so unlike himself. You ran your fingers through his hair, arranging it just so, before you gently took his hands and put them at the base of his chest, one on top of the other. Not quite right, but better. It felt like his body was more his that way. 

“I’m here, Joel,” you said quietly, wanting more than anything to be able to curl up in his lap. “I’m here.” 

You sat on the floor next to the bed - not able to get comfortable enough in the chair to doze off - and rested your head on the mattress near his hip. This wasn’t exactly ideal, either, your stitches itching and pulling as you settled in, but you didn’t care. You had to be close to Joel. Some pain was worth that. 

The next day, you were shaken awake by a frustrated Dr. Palmer who was taking over so Dr. Livingston could get some rest. 

“You are bound and determined to be your own worst enemy,” she muttered, forcing you back to your own bed. She checked you over, reluctantly told you that you were healing well with no sign of infection. The second her back was turned, you were back in Joel’s room. 

Ellie, Tommy and Maria came by again, all of you sitting in near silence, watching Joel, waiting for him to do something - anything - to indicate that he was still in there. 

The next day was less quiet. You were in your usual position in the seat by the head of Joel’s bed when Tommy and Ellie started getting into it. It didn’t sound like a new argument and, you realized, the bickering you’d been only vaguely aware of as you regained consciousness was probably them. 

“I’m not going to sit around here and fucking wait forever,” Ellie snapped. “I’m going out there, I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill every last fucking one of them.” 

“We need to wait,” Tommy said, voice strained. Ellie didn’t seem to care. 

“Wait for them to get further and further away?” She snapped. “Wait for them to come back with more people? No, it’s too big of a fucking risk. I’m going out there.” 

“Need to wait until I can go with you,” Tommy snapped. “Need to wait until we know…” 

Tommy’s voice trailed off. 

“Until we know what?” Ellie demanded. “Until we know whether or not they successfully murdered him? No, fuck that, I’m going to beat the shit out of her with a goddamn golf club, make her fucking feel it…” 

“No, you won’t,” you cut her off. 

“I won’t?” She asked, brows raised, almost daring you to argue with her. “You’re not my fucking mom, Bambi, you don’t get to tell me what the fuck I do or don’t get to do.” 

“You ever killed anyone, kid?” You asked, chin resting on your fist as you watched her. She just blinked at you for a moment. “And I mean people. Real people, not infected.” 

“Yeah,” she said, though her voice was less sharp. “Yeah, I have. Two.” 

“Alright,” you replied. “You torture them? You like killing them?” 

She was silent and just looked at her feet.

“That’s what I thought,” you looked back to Joel. “You’re not going after shit, kid…”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” 

“You’re his kid,” you shot her a glare before looking back at Joel. “And he wouldn’t want you murdering and torturing people for him.”

“But…” 

“No,” you said. “If… If he… If someone needs to handle it, it will be me and Tommy. We can take them and we can make it hurt. You’ll stay here. Not gonna just let you turn into a killer for him, he’d never forgive me. He’d never forgive either of us. One of the last things he said to me was to look out for you and you better goddamn well believe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You’re not going any damn place.” 

She stormed out but Savvy came that evening. She brought a deck of cards and the two of you played Go Fish like you used to when she was little. She told you Ellie was cooling off but she thought she’d be OK. 

“I don’t blame her,” she said, arranging some cards in her hand. “If someone did that to you, I’d want to kill them, too.” 

You looked at her for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you said gently. She looked at you over the cards, skeptical. “I mean it. You hear that something bad happened to me, you take it and move on. Don’t hurt yourself thinking that will fix it. It would only make it worse.” 

The day after that, Ellie brought you your guitar. It made Dr. Palmer look nervous but you promised to take it easy and that music was how you relaxed. 

“Just don’t get all worked up and play Freebird,” she muttered, leaving you alone with Joel and your instrument. 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with Freebird?” You asked a silent Joel as you delicately arranged the guitar on your lap, dodging the stitches in your stomach and leg as you did. “There’s better shit out there…” 

You played for him whatever came to mind. The song you’d written for him kept cropping up. So did the songs you’d played with him, slower and gentler things that you tried to pull from memory, even Take on Me because it got stuck in your head. 

“Do you think he can hear me?” You asked Dr. Palmer that afternoon. 

She stepped back from him and sighed for a moment, looking at you as though she were going to gauge her answer around your demeanor. 

“No one knows for sure,” she said eventually. “But… if he could hear anybody, I think it would be you.”

By the end of the second day with your guitar, your whole body was sore and tired but you didn’t move to go back to your own room. Both doctors had given up on forcing you. You nearly ripped their heads off when they suggested you go to your house for a day or two, try to get some real rest. It was bad enough that they’d surrendered to your stubborn need to be where you could see Joel at all times, no longer willing to fight over what they thought was better for you. 

It was quiet, dark. You weren’t entirely sure what time it was but you thought everyone in town besides those on watch were at home. You were as close to home as you got now, home could only be where Joel was. You weren’t sure how to find home without him now. 

You played the song you’d written for him one more time, soft and slow, before propping the guitar against the wall and sitting delicately on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb him. You adjusted his arms a bit, putting them where you knew he would rest them if he could move them on his own. You gently brushed his hair back. His patchy beard was getting long in spots and you wondered if Ellie could bring scissors and a razor the next time she came so you could trim it for him, keep it how he liked. You drew the shirt of his you wore tighter to yourself and just looked at him for a moment. He was so beautiful, even like this. You needed him so badly, needed him to be OK. You needed to be able to wake up next to him again, kiss him on your way out the door again, make love to him again. He couldn’t be gone, not now. Not like this.

“Joel,” you said softly, barely even a whisper. “I know… I know I should probably tell you that if you need to go, it’s OK, that we’ll be OK but… I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to do this without you, I don’t want to do this without you. I need you, I’m not sure I can be a real person without you. If you’re already gone then… then knowing you was one of the best things that ever happened to me and I’m thankful for every goddamn second of it. But if you’re still there, if you can hear me… I need you to come back to me, Joel. Just… please. Don’t leave me, don’t leave the girls, I just… I will do whatever you want, just stay. Just come back to me. Please.” 

He was still below your touch but you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, anyway, his skin soft and warm. A tear slipped from your eyelash and fell to his cheek but you didn’t move to wipe it away. You had the odd thought that maybe he would absorb it, that his skin would soak up your salt and your sadness and then, even if he didn’t come back, at least he’d have part of you in him when you put him in the ground. You wondered if you’d be able to join him. You slid off the bed and tucked your legs up against yourself, crossing your arms atop the mattress and resting your head there, drifting off to the sound of his breathing. 

***

All Joel really knew was that he was somewhere warm and soft. Warm and soft and kinder than where he’d been before, though the memory of just before was fuzzy. He remembered you, waking up with you, being inside of you, kissing you goodbye. He remembered watching Ellie ride off with her friend for their patrol. He remembered laughing with his brother about something but didn’t remember what. Everything after that was a haze of blood and pain. 

But he was warm now, somewhere that was familiar but he was having a hard time placing it. Grass and trees and a park bench that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, the sound of birds and cicadas on the air. But there were no other people. None that he could see, anyway. 

He heard voices now and then. There were some he knew were familiar but he couldn’t quite place. Others he’d have known anywhere. You, Ellie, Savvy, Tommy, Maria. It was a haze, he could make out the tones and the melodies of your speech but not the words. But that was OK. He knew all of you were close and that was enough. 

There was music, too. He would have recognized your playing from anywhere but it still seemed so obvious from wherever he was. But your music sounded sad, some kind of longing in it that wasn’t there when you usually played for him. He wanted to fix it, wanted to come from wherever he was and make it better. He just wasn’t sure that he could. But he kept hearing the song you made for him. That song was clearer than any other, so present he almost thought it was the version of it you’d recorded for him. But it wasn’t followed by the words he’d come to know so well in the months without you, the ones you’d added to the end of the tape that he listened to every night since you left. Every night until the one you came back to him. 

Come back to me, Joel. 

“Dad?” 

Joel looked around for a moment, heart pounding. He knew that voice, had heard it inside his head so many times through the years. But never like this, never this close. And then Sarah was in front of him, her curls a halo around her head, skin almost glowing in the golden sun. 

“Baby girl.” 

He realized where he knew this place from. It was a park in Austin that he took her to all the time when she was a little girl. The skyline was at his back if he could turn to face it, a playground down the hill to the right. She’d loved the open field, though. She loved being able to just run and run and run with nothing to hold her back. He tried to make himself get to his feet but he couldn’t. She just smiled. It was warm, gentle but more knowing than he’d remembered it being. But then, maybe he’d forgotten. Because otherwise, she looked exactly the same as the last time Joel had seen her, down to the clothes. Except her purple shirt wasn’t bloodstained now, her ankle wasn’t hurt. She was whole, healthy, the way she always should have been.

“Long time no see,” she sat beside him on the bench and he was able to reach her then. He reached for her slowly, cautiously, but he didn’t need to worry. She reached back, putting her arms around his neck. He held her, close and tight. She was warm and soft but the heat wasn’t coming from her. Instead it was like she was part of the place where he was, warm like the sun. She pulled back from him before too long but left a delicate hand on his knee. He tried to memorize her, make sure he knew the precise constellations of her freckles and the way her lashes framed her eyes. She looked him over and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “You’re getting old, old man.” 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, still not sure what to say to her. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you,” she was still smiling but it was sadder now. “A lot.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, his voice wet. “So, so much. You have no idea how much…” 

“I know,” she said. “I’ve seen. You’ve been through a lot, Dad. So much. I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have helped you.” 

“That’s not your job…” 

“I know,” she said again. “But I still wanted to.” 

“How are you?” He asked. “I want to know everything, everything…” 

“I’ve been good,” she smiled. “I met your friend Tess. I like her. I liked her before, too, but even more now. She’s a lot like you, I’m glad you had her.” 

“How…” 

“Dad, I would love to tell you everything,” she cut him off. “But we don’t have time.” 

He frowned. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we didn’t get enough time before, but we should now, we…” 

“We will,” she reached out and took his hands. “Eventually. But not yet. You’ve gotten old, old man, but not old enough. You’re not supposed to be here yet. You still have a lot to do. You have people who need you, people who love you. They really, really love you, Dad. You need to go back for them. You’ve been here long enough.” 

Don’t leave me.

He looked up, looking for where your voice was coming from. Sarah just smiled. 

“She needs you,” she said. “And you need her.” 

She was right. He could feel that in every inch of him. He wanted to be next to you, wanted the life that he could have with you that had been so close when he’d left Jackson that morning. Just you and him and your girls. He wanted it so much it hurt. But how could he leave his daughter? His baby girl, the first baby girl he’d held, the first one he’d failed. How could he leave her again?

“Baby girl, I love them, too but I can’t just leave you here alone…” 

She smiled gently. 

“I’m not alone, Dad. And it’s OK if I’m not your whole world anymore,” she gave his leg a squeeze. “It’s OK if you have another purpose. I want you to be happy. Her, Ellie, Savvy… they make you happy. They’re your purpose now. You deserve that. Go be happy. I’ll be here when you’re done. We’ll have time then, too. I promise.” 

Just stay. 

“Go be with them, Dad,” she said. “Go be happy. We’ll be together when it’s time.” 

Just come back to me.

“I love you so much, Sarah,” he said, reaching out and holding her face in his hand. “So, so much.” 

Please. 

“I know,” she smiled. “And I love you too.” 

There was a wet spot on his cheek but he wasn’t crying. He frowned, touching his skin there, a tear clinging to his finger when he pulled it away. The place he was glowed brighter. Sarah’s face was somehow further away though neither of them had moved. He could feel himself fading from here, going back to where he was before. Part of him hurt with that, clinging to Sarah so hard that it seemed as though he was going to leave that part of him behind. But the rest of him was bringing him back, desperate to get to you, be beside you. That’s where he was supposed to be. He knew that now. He was always supposed to live. He was always supposed to flinch. He was always supposed to find you. 

“I’ll see you around,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Take care of them. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

Everything hurt. 

It was sudden and sharp, the place where he was abruptly dark and cold. He wasn’t sure he could move much, every part of him impossibly heavy. But he forced his eyes open, at least. He was flat on his back and in a bed. It took him a moment to realize where, but the fact that there was medical equipment near his head narrowed it down. He heard a soft, sleepy sound and forced himself to lift his head enough to look for it. It didn’t take him long to find you there, head resting near his waist. He smiled to himself. Part of him was just relieved that he hadn’t dreamed you coming back to him, relieved that you’d want anything to do with him at all now. 

He forced his arm to move, the limb unnaturally clunky, every motion pulling and tugging on damaged skin but he didn’t really care. He rested a hand on your head, smoothing your hair down, thumb brushing against your forehead. You startled and jerked awake, sitting up quickly and blinking sleep from your eyes. His hand fell to your arm when you did and looked around for a moment before your eyes fell on him, the glow of the moon on the snow illuminating your face in the dark. You frowned for a moment, your brows knitting together. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel managed, his voice dry and cracking. 

“Joel!” You scrambled to your feet, taking his hand and clinging to it as you did. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re…” 

“I’m alright, baby,” he said gently. You sank slowly onto the bed at his waist, clutching onto his hand. “You OK?” 

“I’m OK,” you nodded quickly, your voice wet. “Tommy’s OK, Ellie’s OK, we’re all OK. I was so afraid, Joel. I was so afraid. I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you…” 

“I know,” he winced as he reached the hand you weren’t latched onto over to cup your face. “I’m so sorry, baby. Wasn’t tryin’ to go anywhere…” 

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles before holding his arm to your chest, clinging to it like a child does to a security blanket. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him up an down. “I can go wake up a doctor and…” 

“M’fine sweetheart,” he said, brushing a thumb over the arch of your cheekbone. “Don’t… don’t go anywhere, need you close. Just…” He did his best to shift himself so he wasn’t in the middle of the bed, wincing as he did. “Just be here. Let me hold you, OK?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“You won’t,” he said gently. “Need to feel you. Just stay with me, baby. Please.” 

You sniffed but nodded before you moved gingerly to slip into bed beside him. You lay your head gently on his chest and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. It took a moment but he felt you relax against him, body molding to his own. He turned his head enough to brush his lips against your forehead. 

“I can’t lose you, Joel,” you said softly. “I can’t, I need you to stay.” 

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding you as close as he could, everywhere your body met his a welcome distraction from the pain. “Not going anywhere.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Yeah, sorry, I can't bring myself to kill Joel lol I love him too much, I need to let him have all the beautiful things he deserves to have.

Thank you so so much for being so patient with this chapter. I promise, I didn't intend to leave you hanging for weeks on end and I feel so bad that I did. Thank you for still reading and for being here. I feel like I've messed up a lot on how I've handled this fic lately - between not understanding how many folks didn't know the TLOU2 stuff and not giving proper warning and then posting that last chapter and not having this one lined up and ready to go - so thank you for not ditching me and this fic. It really does mean so much that you spend your time here with these characters.

Thank you again ❤️ Love you!

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[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt II sandman but i've never watched or read it

It's happening again I'm being kidnapped again there's no hope left for me god I'm so in love with Dream he's such a cutiepie uh right this post okay. I'm uh the Good Omens Mascot and I'm losing my mind here have part two based on whatever I have understood from y'all's replies to my first post.

It's Neil's baby and a lot of amazing artists are involved. One of whom made Dream look like a gooey pile of sad adorableness in volume 1.

Dream is a sad wet lonely repressed cat of a man. No I do not have one type.

There's this dude whom I think is named the Corinthian. He's a dream (but not Dream) and he can see things.

His eyes are mouths and his teeth are apparently Very White and any dental hygienist would orgasm at the sight.

Dream was kept prisoner for a century. Where? I don't fucking know. Why? I don't fucking know. How? Er there was some kind of. Glass (?) case.

There's a sleeping sickness while he's gone coz things got weird.

His raven is killed by someone and maybe he should have forgiven him but he could not.

Something happens at the end of Volume 7 that people need to recover from.

There's someone with glasses who keeps telling Dream stuff and they're Very Important and I have no fucking clue who they are.

There's someone named Freddie and people are feral for him and I don't know who he is.

Dream is just constantly on the verge of tears. Always. Just fucking always. Poor baby.

Sandman more like Sadman amirite.

He thinks everything ever is his fault. Mood.

EVERYONE KEEPS REASSURING ME THERE IS NO CANONICAL INCEST BUT APPARENTLY BOTH DREAM AND DESIRE HAVE SEXUAL TENSION WITH EVERYONE INCLUDING THEIR FAMILY AND EACH OTHER AND THEY ARE SIBLINGS AND AAAAAAAAA.

The family is Endless btw and I don't know what that means but they are.

Dream has a boyfriend (long distance? idk they keep meeting each other every 100 years) named after a cooking stove who calls Dream out for being lonely and Dream doesn't like that and they fight and then they go into the rain etc etc.

Hob is immortal because he does not want to die and he is convinced that humans only die because they uh think there's no other option. It's giving just think positive thoughts.

Dream almost stands him up but then doesn't some bar is moved.

There are keys to Hell and Dream doesn't know what to do with them.

There are tools and they make you weak.

Desire has all the genders.

I am apparently exactly like Delirium.

Dream is a sad wet cat at one point and then he turns into a shadowy being with cute bright eyes.

Dream is fucking pretty in every single fucking century like oh my fuckING GOD I AM SO GAY

Tom Sturridge (?) is Dream's actor and he has chemistry with everyone on screen apparently which leads to incest vibes

There's some kind of fucking Grape Incest scene

Despair is played by Mrs Sandwich

Death is kind and cuddles a dead baby at one point

It's gay but I do not know HOW it is gay but I am assured it is Gay

Er. Feel free to correct me.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

hello!! um I really liked the whole Military Creator you've written!

I'm wondering how would some of the boys/men react to that!

for example, Zhongli/Xiao as they have fought in wars before or Childe for his bloodlust. Feel free to add anyone you want too!

Headcanons: Zhongli, Xiao, and Childe Reacting to Reader being a Veteran Military Soldier.

Ah, I see, Anon! Here y'all go :) I hope you enjoy it!

Click Me For the Women Version!

Disclaimers: Might be OOC, Implied Violence/Battle, Mentions of Scars!)

Zhongli

This man. This old immortal man that is a dragon. He knows war like the back of his hand. Kinda quite literally, since once upon a time, some people hailed him as the God of War (Sorry Murata).

To hear that Reader was a former Military Officer for a nation you didn't run nor found, you just increased Zhongli's respect by a HUGE amount. There's no denying it.

"If you don't mind, Your Grace, may you tell me a few stories of your past experiences in battle?" Very attentive listener. He won't push if you leave a few details out, even if he is curious.

Honestly loves to listen to you and your stories! He commends you for your victories, and solemn your lost of the cherished ones. Zhongli is all too familiar with war, and it's very relatable.

Your tea talks with him are now more and more interesting, to say the least. You might be invited from Zhongli for tea instead of the other way around!

Xiao

General Alatus himself...the Vigilant Yaksha doesn't take war all too well. You can say that he's got extreme PTSD from it, and really—that's pretty much an understatement alone.

Won't push the topic much, since this boy does not want you to be stuck in a traumatic time, but he is curious about your military days, since you don't seem all that bothered of what you experienced.

However! This doesn't mean he won't want to check up on you. He may not be...good with emotions, but he's certainly going to try, for the Almighty Creator's sake!

"Your Grace....forgive my prying, but are you...okay?" He cringes just listening to himself ask the question. It felt like he was trying to make your achievements an understatement or a cheap byproduct.

Constantly remind this guy that what he asked hadn't upset or hurt you. This man is notorious for self-sacrifice and self-blame.

Overall, spending time with Xiao is probably good therapy for the both of you, in a way. keep up the tea time, because this man will eventually open up and actually relax and enjoy tea with you!

Childe

A little too thrilled to hear that the Almighty Creator has gone through war.

Immediately pounces on the matter. No cap.

"Your Grace, care to share some battle experiences with me?" Has an absolute gleeful and menacing smile on his face as his dead eyes shine brightly at you, boring into your soul.

Of course, he won't push for details—boy just wants to know the battles and fights you were in.

However, that doesn't mean he's heartless. He'll share your sentiment if a battle brought loss to your loved ones. Childe himself can't imagine losing one of his siblings. Ever.

Tea time with Childe is basically verbal sparring. You both are fighting by comparing your battles with one another. And it never ends.

And that's it! I hope you all like it :) Sorry for being so inactive these days—motivation keeps killing me, I swear. See you all around soon!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: If you're waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia or Forver In My Hold finale part—It's coming, don't worry! My brain isn't just motivated just yet, but it will be it out!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[ms-cartoon]

Warning: This post will contain mentions of assault or anything along the lines of it. You get the idea.

My review for HH ep 2 was supposed to be out by now, but there are some things I have to say first. My reasoning for sticking around for Hazbin Hotel is all gone except for Vox right now. I love Husk too, but they really just kinda ruined him for me in ep 4. I'm probably being dramatic but that's just how I feel. If he's supposed to be this wise bartender who's meant to make people feel better and help reach an understanding of some sort, he really just failed at that.

EP 4 of Hazbin Hotel is probably the worst one out of all the eps released so far. There are PLENTY of flaws to point out, but they can be said for some other posts I'll upload soon. What I'm mainly concerned with as of now is that "Loser Baby" song sung by HuskerDust.

So it's revealed that Husk was once an overlord and was always gambling. He betted his status and powers when playing against Alastor and lost. Now I guess he's forced to do whatever Alastor wants such as being a bartender. . . .

Sorry to get off topic here but. . . . Husk was an overlord??? I don't like how they just suddenly reveal that. It caught me off guard. I know they sorta foreshadowed it in the pilot, but they should've given most newcomers to the show a hint or something. It honestly feels like the writers just pulled that revelation out their asses just to add some positivity and similarity between Angel and Husk's relationship (because Viv and the fans just love idea of this ship oh so much)

Also, since he was previously an overlord, how come nobody's heard of him??? Everybody will get shocked when they hear or see Alastor or recognize him by his radio shows. Everybody knows the Three Vs, Camilla, etc. but not a Husk??? The Overlord with a gambling addiction?? Charlie and Vaggie will get shocked when Alastor comes in the picture but look at Husk like he's some random dude that just popped outta nowhere?

Plus, Alastor didn't force Husk to work as a bartender. In the pilot, he was easily convinced with cheap booze.

Speaking of his gambling addiction; well we all know he likes to gamble judging by his appearance. But gambling being his addiction?? Since when was that implied?

Anyway . . . . At this point, I don't get what the idea of that song is or what Husk meant by it. Maybe I am overlooking it, but its pretty hard not to believe knowing how Viv screws up her writing skills and how she went about it. According to all the Viv defenders, the song was meant to say Angel isn't alone in being stuck in a situation he feels he can't get out of and that Husk can understand where he's coming from and what he's going through. Well sorry to burst y'all's bubble, but even if that was, they just did wrong ENTIRELY. (Sidenote: If you Hazbin lovers wanna see it how u see it, then fine. But Imma stick with what I believe and there's nothing that could be said to change my mind, so don't bother trying to correct me.)

Husk makes it seem like he knows exactly what it's like being in Angel's shoes; signing a contract and being forced to do something against his will. That part seems to be the only thing they have similar. Except what happened with Husk in the past should NOT count as a similarity!

Husk: Loses a bet against Alastor, costing his soul and status as an overlord. Agrees to commit to Alastor's biddings apparently, including being a bartender for a hotel (which he wasn't really forced to do. He doesn't seem to be afraid in refusing Alastor's requests. I partially don't even believe it was apart of the deal to do what Alastor wanted)

Angel: Is a pornstar. Forced to be a pornstar and do whatever Val wants him to do. Including submitting to him and his sexual needs, getting beaten, r8ped, assaulted (sexually even), exploited, drugged, etc.

What part of Angel's problem should Husk be understanding? Alastor doesn't beat or r8pe Husk! It's never even revealed what Husk goes through with Alastor. I doubt it's anything bad on his part, since he clearly isn't afraid to talk smack to the powerful radio demon who could kill him in an instant. They just . . . had that past and now Husk is doing him a permanant favor. What Husk is doing now isn't even anything bad. He's working as a bartender for a hotel and is being paid to do it. He may not like, but it's nothing bad. What ANGEL is going through on the other hand?? The word "bad" doesn't even begin to cover it.

Husk may not know what Angel goes through (though he should connect the dots since Angel hinted at him when he revealed he gets drugged all the time) but Angel just full on agreeing with him and accepting that he's a loser for what he goes through and having to embrace his situation????

Ummm . . . . NO!

Bro! You just saw Angel about to get drugged!! He should NOT have to accept that!!

[ourserendipity]

samsara of shattered dreams: past

(aventurine x gn!reader x dr. ratio) just some heads up, this happened before the whole penacony arc in the story. No Beta read 😎😎 (That's all I think lol. Anyways I'll be leaving for a while cuz I'll be busy and shiz 🥲🥲. hope y'all enjoyy✿) Part 1/3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Memories. Like glass, they glisten the beauty reflected by the light giving its vivid colors, and yet they are oh so frail; like the fleeting flow of life, sudden yet steady at the same time.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Looking back, you wouldn't have thought that you would see yourself in this situation; not that you already foresaw your fate in the first place. Still, there's the feeling of regret lingering at the back of your mind; one that is not directed towards you but rather to the things that you've done. If only, if only you had the power to change the course of fate maybe this wouldn't have been necessary, if only one could stop the other's heart breaking perhaps goodbyes weren't needed to be said. But alas, destiny has its own ways and so now you are trapped, here in a samsara of endless possibilities, all from the past up to the future; all that is only but a dream yet to spur along with the branches of life.

You dance, you circle around the twinkling stars swimming along azure waters that reflect the night sky, following the roots of time ever so slowly growing, a future waiting to be born, its memories captured in the garden of recollection. Spin after spin, countless lightcones spawn in the vicinity of your eyes; an attempt to draw you unto them, delving into the memories of both the future and past once more. They all glimmer in your eyes, symbolizing its high importance to those who gaze at it, but truth be told, you didn't want to look at them anymore, not when you know you'll only hurt yourself in the process. Even then, you caress them over your palms ever so gently, cherishing the moments silently; actions do speak louder than words after all.

And now you wonder, will everything be alright? Now that the stars have finally collided, and so shall your encounter with death had arrived.

"Y/n... Y/N..."

"Aventurine-"

"They're... they're gone. They really are not here anymore, huh?" He whispers, tightly holding your cold, desolate body.

Despair was imminent in the thick air that engulfs the room as he desperately tries to hold back himself from tearing on the spot. He'd hate for the two of you to see him cry and be vulnerable; after all, didn't he tell you that he doesn't bet on the losing end?

And yet here he is: lo and behold, the winner of it all, stripping him of his own tears, his own freedom to be frail and weak, all just to keep himself at bay, and yet failing so miserably.

"......."

Only silence was heard across the room, rather, it was the only answer the genius could give him. Though not fitting his character, he believes that even he could not give the response the man wanted; needed even.

"There's no time left to mourn what's already gone, we should make haste." It was the only thing he could reply. He knew he had to give him an answer somehow, else the man's insanity would escalate even further.

".....leave.."

"what?"

"leave me alone, I... I'll follow you after a while, just please let me be," he pleads achingly, as if he is almost breaking into the point of oblivion.

Utter brokenness was the only thing he heard upon Aventurine's response. And that alone already tells him that

You wished it wouldn't have been sooner, that you could stay just a little bit longer. And so you fought, no, you ran, you ran along with them in the dark in hopes of outrunning time but to no avail. In the end, you still had to go, regret trailing alongside your eyes brimming with tears.

"Hey no fair! that's my share Aventurine!"

"Not when you say please~"

"Such prudence... Will you two stop the act already?"

"Ooh so scary, Mr. Alabaster head~" you tease, obviously trying to mock him and his antics.

"Indeed. I wonder, where is that handsome bust of yours? You don't seem to wear it as much anymore~" Aventurine coos, whilst holding the bag of candies on his right hand, with you struggling on the other hand, trying to reach the said bag from him.

He scoffs upon hearing the blonde's remarks, though what he was saying is true. If he were to be honest, he doesn't see the two of you as an idiot, but he wouldn't openly admit it to both of you, not with his pride and ego of course. Sighing, he knocks the blonde's head lightly, making the guy dramatically wince in pain.

"ow, that hurts y'know?" he cries all the while you were there, stifling a laughter trying not to laugh at his obvious acting.

It was just a simple day for the three of you in the IPC and yet at that moment, everything felt light; it felt as if the three of you were simply living in your own world, rightfully so. It felt so comforting, like a dream you wish that will never end. But then...

All those years of endless banter, the fondness of even the simplest of times; both good and bad, and them, the two of which you truly had loved with all of your heart, the stars you thought you would never reach; but you did, ever so effortlessly. To think that fate had allowed for the three of you to meet is a miracle from the aeons themselves. And despite their clashing personalities, the pointless arguments they dare not speak of, the past one does not wish to return to, you made it work somehow, like fixing the broken pieces of a broken glass only to be shattered again, all because of that stupid, cruel thing called fate. But somehow, you found yourself here in the samsara, reborn from the memories that you hold, now with a new purpose; to collect and to preserve new memories once more, in hopes of retaining what's for the future to hold on to when the time comes. And now that you have regained life in a different form, perhaps you could go back to the real world, to raise a bud anew, in that beautifully miserable place. And perhaps you could meet them again, not letting go of any opportunity given to you, to build a new bridge, to finally reconnect the three of you once more, all for a better future.

"May the cosmos guide you to the path of the unknown, my beloved stars. "

to be continued......

xx/xx/xxxx

xx:xx

From: ■■■■■■■

To: ■■■■■■■■■■, ■■■■■■■■■■

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

To Aventurine

"To my dearest gambler, blessed upon the gaze of Gaiathra. I simply bestow to you my full adoration and longing. The unknown may hold us captive in our own, but we shall be the winners who'll decide the results; and it seems like it in your side, to which I could only pray for its continuous flow. I am truly humbled by your guts and wits, my dear. But despite it all, I could feel the lingering despair each time you gamble your life away. So to you I offer this humble gift; a gift of life and new comings. Never forget, you are Kakavasha, born from the bright yellow star, blessed by abundant luck and fortune. May you walk upon this newly lit path of destiny, along with him and what's left of us. "

To Ratio

"To my favorite scholar, truly a genius amongst geniuses. I could only stare in awe upon all of the achievements you have gotten. I may not be as potent as your vast amounts of knowledge nor do I reach the same standards as you do, but please be reminded that there are things that even the smartest revolutionists simply could not have a grasp of. And even if it seems that one's passing is but a swift gust of wind in your eyes, I could tell: the moment my drifting eyes meet yours, those eyes of yours are telling otherwise. So please, be a little bit nicer to them next time. You may never know; that in the future, he will be in your saving grace, hoping that you'll spare him the sympathy that he truly needs. "

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

[chaseadrian]

fragile concessions

you don't mind leaving Eddie to his devices in your bedroom as you shower, you don't mind even more when you catch him taking advantage of the opportunity. [masterlist]

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader tags: 18+ ONLY, explicit, voyeurism, pillow humping, invasion of privacy, friends to lovers, handjobs, blowjobs, facesitting, mutual masturbation, light backstory aka porn w some plot, fluffy ending word count: 4.2k+ a/n: yeah yeah i know i've been gone a long time. hope y'all like this <3

Rifling through your dresser, you’re startled by a knock at the window. You bring the sweater in your hands to your chest instinctively, and step backward as you look through the glass. 

Black leather and ring clad hands wiggling a ‘hello’ from outside are more than enough to calm your nerves. 

“Morning, Eddie. You’re way early.” You push the curtain out of the way, muscling the old pane open, “Why didn’t you use the front door?” 

“I knocked!” He grunts as he climbs over the ledge, clamoring for your forearm when he loses balance. 

Your nails sink into the leather sleeve of his jacket, and you cock your head, “You did?” 

He looks up at you with a smile, brushing his wrinkled shirt, “No. Just wanted to see your bedroom. You never let me in here I—wow.” He reaches out for the chiffon fabric of your canopy bed, pointing at the cushion of pillows at the head, “Feel like I’m in a palace. Silk pillowcases? Classy.” 

The sweater knots into your arms as you cross them, “Weirdo.” 

Leaving him to wander, you pull a fresh towel from the hall closet, yelling back, “Well, get comfortable. I still have to shower.”  

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about me.” 

You linger by the adjacent bathroom door, looking halfway over your shoulder to watch him explore. 

Eddie runs his knuckles over your belongings like they’re the most delicate objects in the world. Grazing over the rim of dust on your dresser’s edge, he scrapes it off on his jacket with a touch closer to his typical gentility. 

He threads the loose corner of your pillow through his fingers, and hops backward onto the comforter, settling into the mattress with a familiarity you aren’t sure he’d earned. 

You yell again from the bathroom, door half cracked, “I just washed those.” 

He adjusts his legs to hang off the bed, kicking his old sneakers onto the shag rug, “My apologies.” Grabbing a spare pillow to hold over his stomach, he’s half sat up against your headboard, tapping his fingers on the silk. 

You can hear him humming from your room as you shower. The softness in his voice when he thinks you can’t hear him always makes you smile. His kindness had a bite to it; if you asked for the shirt off his back, he’d throw it at you. 

Sometimes you like to watch him when he thinks he’s safe to shuck off his harsh, protective cloak and just be Eddie. The Eddie that leaves out a can of tuna by the trash for the trailer park cats, or carries the neighbor’s wandering toddler home on his shoulders. These little concessions towards fragility—like the soft hums with your silk pillow in his lap—remind you why he’s in your life. 

The bathroom clouds with steam while you settle into the hot water, humming along to his voice, reaching blindly for the shampoo. You shake the bottle over your head and squeeze, only to be hit with a puff of air and a few pathetic pearls of lather. It isn’t even worth it to scrub the remnants in, and you pop out of the shower with a groan, tossing the empty bottle into the sink.

If Eddie were to try and sneak a peek right now, the thick, fluorescent steam would ruin his show. Still, you pull on the robe hanging behind the door. You’re sure you bought new shampoo, sure it must be under the sink, but you freeze before you can even take a look in the cabinet, half kneeling with your fingertips wedged against the wood.

It’s silent in your bedroom. 

Eddie’s no longer humming, and when you turn on your toes to peek beyond the door you can just see his silhouette behind the thin canopy.

He’s on your bed as before, pillow over his lap, but now his hips rock up, knuckles white in the silk case. 

The cabinet door slips from your fingers, clapping shut, stopping Eddie in his tracks. 

He looks to the bathroom, and you dart behind the door.

“You okay?” He yells, obvious strain cut with even more obvious panic. 

“Fine! Almost dropped the shampoo!” You shout back, sitting down on the edge of the tub, wringing the string of your robe between your fingers. 

You don’t know if you want to look again. 

Eddie was always over familiar. Always controlling the situation, the ringleader who branded his group with every rough touch. Fingers hard on your neck, a peanut flicked your way at the bar, judgment in his smile.

All this to keep you—and everyone else—at arm’s length. The clothes, the hair, the rings, they did enough to keep most people away. But the ones who looked past that, they got the neurosis and informality. You know him more than he thinks, more than he allows, and you aren’t against taking that initiative.   

Of course you want to look. 

This is far deeper than you ever thought you’d get. 

Slipping off the edge of the tub, you crawl over to the door, inhaling a big breath of steam, robe damp and sticking to your body. 

You feel safe enough sitting on your knees to watch him, enough layers of steam and fabric and poor vision between you and him to keep this mutual intrusion a secret. If you were to argue it, Eddie using your pillow to get off is probably a bigger invasion than you watching him do it, but the shame was the same. 

One hand presses the pillow into his pelvis, the other pets along the grain of the smooth fabric, fingers touching down one after the other.

Sometimes Eddie taps you on the head with a ringed knuckle when you’re being smart. This feels like the gentle variant of that. 

Though his lips are parted, you can’t hear anything outside the hammer of the shower. A playback of all his dramatic grunts and scoffs loops in your head instead, and you see the way his Adam's apple thrums in his throat with every note of pleasure. 

It’s easy to piece together the way he could look behind that hazy chiffon, his chest rising and falling, slow to combat the noise he wants to make. The knee hanging off the bed just peeks out of the canopy, and he pushes up against your pillow using a firmly planted foot. You know the way his tendons move in his hand as he grabs tighter, presses harder. 

You make up the sound of his zipper sleeves against the pillow, a soft kind of scratching that could catch at any moment. If you hadn’t seen him now, you would’ve blamed him for being so careless with your stuff later. His name would’ve been the first in your head when you noticed the imperfection. 

But everything about right now is perfect. 

You can’t say there’s an established attraction, exactly. A curiosity, sure, little question marks in your head every time he calls you pretty with that surface grin. Maybe a dream or two in the years you’ve known him, dreams where he pulled you in from arm’s length. Not romantic, never that, but close and real and earnest.

If this is the closest you get—a voyeur to your own invasion—then you’ll take it for all it’s worth. At least you know he really thinks you’re pretty. 

You sit in stunned silence for a minute more before new movement startles you back behind the door, and when you peek again, Eddie has both feet on the bed, his knees pulled toward him, thrusting up harder against the pillow. It’s still slow, but he’s sunken into the deep plush of your comforter, hair blanketing his head. His features are distinct enough, the curve of his open mouth, the valley of his throat, you can carve expressions from familiar topography. 

It’s from this position that a weak moan cuts through the pattering water, and—for what you think is the first time—you feel something more than curiosity. 

Eddie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and he presses two harsh fingers between his eyebrows, smudging his fingertips across his forehead in what you’re sure is frustration. 

You’ve gone past filling the gaps of what you know, the pulpit of your stomach swirling with thoughts of more moans, how it must feel under the rough hew of his jeans, what he’d do if it were you on his lap, and whether he’d accept you there at all. 

For all his drama and fire, Eddie couldn’t sit in discomfort. He loved being the discomfort, but if it turned on him he was like a cornered dog. 

As you continue to watch him, the swirling in your stomach slips down, and for now a hand between your legs is enough to calm this bud of interest. 

The floor is slick under you, steam quick to fill the space of your parted thighs, heat on heat crushed under the just pruning skin of your fingerprint. You sigh, chest stuttering against relief. Slow, concentrated breaths quell any noise you’d want to make as you swirl your middle finger over your clit, Eddie’s moan looping in your brain. 

You focus on the line of his figure, the indent he’ll leave in your bed when he gets up and tries to pretend he’d been peacefully laying there the whole time. 

Without trying, your brain fills in gaps of space in your time with Eddie. Every time he left a party before you, a quick ‘I’ll wait for you in the van. No rush.’ and a tap on the shoulder. Trips to the 7/11, insistent that he must surprise you with snacks for the session, or each time you lost him in the bar, distracted by drifters who thought a beer or two would get you back home with them. 

The memories are tinged now with the sight of his arching back, his parted lips, and that singular moan. 

The thoughts carry you as far as they can, and the sight of him behind the curtain even more, but the rhythm of your fingers isn't what you want. It grows as stale as you hope that pillow must be for him, and with a sharp swallow you stand up to turn the shower off. 

It takes a minute to gather yourself, roughing your hair with the towel to shake off what nerves you can. You face yourself in the mirror, dewy glass blurring your body into something amorphous. You can contend with this fuzzy figure, gazing over your shoulder to watch it slip past the bathroom door. In your mind’s eye, it’s not you taking this risk, but the reflection. It’s enough to get you into the bedroom. 

Eddie has his ankles crossed and an arm behind his head, and he taps his fingers over his stomach as you approach, still roughing your hair as you enter. 

“All cleaned up?” He asks, his eyes following you until he’s looking up through his lashes, a quick flick to the space next to him before he meets your eyes again. 

You sit where he’d looked, tossing the towel into a laundry basket opposite the bed, “Mhm.” 

There’s a long moment of your eyes on his, and he snaps out with a shake of his head, and that stupid grin, “Shit, sorry, you probably want to get dressed, huh?” 

As he pushes to sit up, you close the space between you, your mouth just pressing against his. He pulls back with wide eyes that dart around your face, and he keeps a hand on your shoulder to hold you away. 

His lips form and abandon several words, but before he can get a noise out, you cut the space, “I saw you.” 

He jerks his head back, swallowing hard and looking past you now. More sentences starting and stopping without a thought fully formed. 

You feel the hand on you loosen, see him shift in front of you, but there’s no easy way for Eddie to escape the situation. 

“It’s okay.” You start reaching over for the hand on your shoulder, and he flinches. 

“It’s okay.” You repeat, voice quieter and firmer, and he lets you take his hand, lets you guide it from your shoulder to the pit of your throat, over the drying beads of water between your breasts, and under the plush cotton collar of your robe. 

His hand cups around you, rings warm and sticking to your skin, your fingers loosely wrap around his wrist for a moment before he accepts where you’ve left him. 

You both let out a slow breath. Eddie’s starts with a hitch, but settles into something calm and certain. He doesn’t meet your eyes yet, they’re trained on the concealed hand, resting dead over your breast. 

Placing two fingers under his chin, you coax him to look at you, your thumb brushing under his bottom lip, a few out of place dots of stubble pricking at your skin. You don’t think he could grow a beard if he tried, but random hair sprouts around his jaw from week to week, pimples following if he plucks them too late. 

You bring your nose close to his, and he tilts up almost imperceptibly, tongue darting between his lips. 

That first kiss was so brief you already can’t remember what he felt like, but the calm heat of his breath on you is steady, warm and inviting, and his eyes glisten as he looks at you. 

His palm is heavy under your robe, thumb running back and forth ever so slightly, catching on the natural pull of your skin. 

You let your eyelids slip closed, and finally he kisses you. 

It isn’t harsh or fast and it doesn’t light your insides up the way your imagination did, but you’re sure you’ll remember it for the rest of your life. His bottom lip trembles for the first second, slick and soft, and you feel the scratch of those loose facial hairs against your chin. The hand beneath your robe squeezes shut, the warm metal of his rings sticking and unsticking with a little sting as he builds confidence in the moment. 

The hand he’d kept on the bed comes up to curl over the slope of your neck, and as you lean into him he slides the collar of the robe down past your shoulder. It sits against your bicep, not revealing anything he’s not sure you’d want, but enough to let him kiss down your jaw, spattering over the bare landscape you’ve allowed him. 

You slip a hand under the hem of his old t-shirt, pinching at the rolled skin of his abdomen, body curved uncomfortably as he’s half sat up on the bed. 

He backs away from kissing when you push him down onto the comforter, both hands grabbing your arms to bring you with. You stay sat on the edge of the bed, torso twisted to follow him as he wants. 

“Take off the jacket.” You whisper against his mouth, dragging your lips under his jaw and down his throat. You pull his shirt up and fix your hands on his hips, marking the skin down his chest with nips and long kisses. He struggles to tug the jacket off and can only manage the sleeves, leather crinkling under him as he wriggles under you. 

You drag the tip of your tongue over his happy trail, and he watches with quiet interest, fingers gliding over your bare shoulder. 

Eddie isn’t wearing anything under his jeans, you can feel the length of his erection stuffed uncomfortably beneath the denim. 

“Ohh, please.” He whispers, more breath than anything else. 

You hum with a smile, watching him as you unbutton and unzip and tug the bottoms down his thighs. 

His hand hovers over the back of your head, nails just touching down along your hair, and he settles for resting it on your back. 

He isn’t over or under-endowed, you can comfortably wrap a hand around his base and hold the rest of him in your mouth without strain, but you start with the hand. Dribbling a mouthful of spit over his tip, you slip your fisted hand down the shaft, thumb pressing into the rim of his head. He holds back expletives, syllables drawn out and dying behind his teeth. You’re slow, gliding your hand over his length and watching the wrinkles as he screws his eyes shut and pushes his hand over his forehead, bangs fraying out of place. 

His cock thrums under your hand, and you squeeze his thigh as it jerks, quick spasms of enjoyment relieving tension. 

You wait until there’s obvious pressure in his chest, until his Adam’s apple is taut against his throat, and he can barely eke out breaths. 

Without knowing, he gives you what you want as you swirl your tongue around his tip for the first time. He can’t hold back the languid, whimpering moan that escapes his open mouth, all the air in his lungs expelled with it. 

Watery, salty precum slides over your tongue, and you close your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you work down his shaft. Spit pools into your mouth and over your bottom lip, and as your chin brushes the hair at Eddie’s base, you feel sweat and spit drying on the skin. 

Eddie’s hesitance falls away as he starts to lose himself, the hand on your back coming up to gently push down your head, not forceful, exactly, but wanting. He whimpers with increased impatience the harder you work him, the hum of your mouth around him an added jolt of pleasure. 

You break for a moment to suck marks into the sharp angle of his hip bone, your hand a warm substitute that still pulls beautiful noises from him. He hisses against the kiss, the curve of his belly heaving with full breaths. He has faint marks of muscle definition when he flexes against your touch, but his abdomen rounds with every intake of air, and you press your lips along his pelvic line to feel the way he’s working through your touch. 

Kissing the bush of hair around his shaft, you run your thumb over his head, your tongue flat against his base, dragging up to lick away the new dribbles of precum. 

He lets your name fall from his lips, and a mewling, strained, “Please…keep going…” with his nails combing over the back of your head. 

You take him entirely in your mouth once again, and he ruts up, hitting the back of your throat. You swallow the near-gag, and Eddie’s laughter—tied into an apology— hits your ear, the first instance of that rough-hewn boy you’re used to. 

In response you curl your free hand around his balls and give them a light squeeze, clutching them against the base of his shaft to compress the tension he must be feeling. You imagine it’s a tight, coiled pain in his stomach, and it’s your greed more than anything that keeps him from relief. 

Eddie wriggles underneath you, his body twitching outside his control, incomplete requests for release dying on his tongue. 

What he finally chokes out is an ill timed warning, his orgasm already spilling into your mouth by the time he tells you he’s going to come. It’s warm and salty down your throat, and if it came from anyone else it would be an off-putting sensation that you’d be quick to spit out, but with Eddie paralyzed under you as he finishes, no taste could be sweeter or more satisfying. 

You don’t even have time to swipe the sleeve of your robe over your lips before he’s tugging you up to his mouth. 

This kiss is harsh and deep and the hand on your head presses you hard into him. His tongue twists over yours, warm and slimy, loud smacks between you with every kiss. 

You’ve no choice now but to climb on him, straddling his stomach, his hand coming down to slide the robe entirely off. Your knees nick on the sharp parts of his jacket, but it’s a pale feeling compared to the heat of your bodies and his hands burning into your skin, branding your hip as you grind on him. 

“Hey, hey.” He pulls you back with a hand on your cheek, thumb tugging at the bulb of your cheekbone. You’re both flustered and disheveled when your eyes meet, and you feel you could fall forever into the pit of that dark brown. “Sit on my face.” He breathes, kneading at the skin of your ass, gaze trained on your reaction. 

“Yeah?” You ask, the throbbing between your thighs ever present as you’ve stilled on him. 

He nods, his hand slipping from your cheek to coast down your body and rest on your other hip. They coil underneath your thighs to hold you as you re-situate yourself over him, hovering just above his mouth, a little hesitant to drop your weight on him. This felt somehow more intimate than a blowjob, smothering him with your body, the full potential of your spasms direct and right there on his tongue. 

Eddie didn’t care, he forced you down with his arms, and you lurched forward against the headboard, one hand wrapping over the edge, the other a buffer between your forehead and the hardwood. 

The pleasure was instant and overwhelming, Eddie’s tongue indistinct in its movement, lips and spit and the tickle of his nose worming their way through your body. 

His grip was tight on you, arms wrapped around your thighs, and the soft curl of his hair rustled under your skin. He doesn’t move you over his tongue, but rather keeps you still, tries to stop you wriggling and doing the work yourself. You oblige best you can, holding the headboard tighter, biting down into the skin of your forearm, wanting even now to give him what he wants, to let him help you in whatever way he sees fit. He’s giving you more of himself than you ever imagined he could, and more than anything you just want to languish in this moment for as long as you can. 

He hums underneath you, satisfied little hums that rise and fall with his focus. 

It’s when you go silent—your breath caught in your chest, moans stuck in your throat—that Eddie starts rocking you over his mouth. The heat in your stomach is unbearable, and you gasp as he guides you back and forth over his tongue, everything below his nose a wet, slobbering mess, just as much from you as it is him. You slip against him with ease, grinding harder and faster, any worry you had about smothering him long gone with the ever-winding spiral of ecstasy that sits in your belly. 

Tighter and tighter it curls, the rocking of your hips uneven and desperate now. 

Eddie slides his hands as far as he can up your back, combing lines down your skin with his nails, and you wriggle closer to the headboard, so close to the end that every touch is torturous. 

You haven’t spent half as long with his head between your thighs as he did with your lips around his cock, but any shame you could possibly feel will come later. You just want the relief, to unfurl and collapse and let him feel you shaking over the knack of his tongue. 

You drop entirely onto him, his tongue swirling over the pulsing nub of your clit, and he grabs you as hard as he can, just as needy and wanting. 

He groans underneath you, and your vision explodes behind your eyes. 

Spasming and shaking, he holds you as you come undone, tilting his head up as the orgasm sends you backward to lay on his chest. He doesn’t stop running his tongue over your clit even as it becomes overwhelming, wanting to capture every last dredge of your climax. He laps up the arousal that wells from you, sucking kisses between your lips. 

The euphoria layers in your body like waves of radar, one after the other until you’re begging him to let you go. You can’t quite catch your breath, wheezing as you try to pull air into your lungs, evening out as the radiation of pleasure cools to satisfaction. 

You roll off him onto your stomach, resting your head in your arms to look back at with a smile. 

He pushes his bangs up and shakes his head with a laugh, “Nuts.” He squeezes your calf. 

You both sit in the moment, a comfortable silence between you with his hand resting on your leg.

Silence wasn’t golden in your experience with Eddie thus far. If there wasn’t conversation, there was music; if there wasn’t music, there was his humming. Any quiet with Eddie around was borne out of tension, but now you feel a deep tranquility even as the cool air of the still-open window hits your bare skin.

He runs his fingers gently back and forth, and the both of you let out a content sigh at the same time. 

“J—”

“—inx! Ha!” Eddie is a hair faster, and he jiggles your calf in accomplishment before shifting to mirror you on your stomach. He hovers in front of your lips, muscling you over a bit with his shoulder, “Owe me a…kiss?” 

You let your head fall into your arms, a kick of giddiness in your stomach, but you come back to meet his lips. 

There’s a smile in this kiss, you think maybe there could be more. Kisses, smiles, whatever you can get. 

Whatever Eddie can give. 

[all-wrung-out]

Whumpblr Intro

Hey! I've gone far too long without actually making an intro, despite having this side blog up for a bit. So here we go!

I go by Tac when I'm interacting online (my main blog is calligraphic-tac, and that's my chaos-corner where I try to post things I like, things that inspire me, and my more general writing, when I can actually get words out). Pronouns are she/her, although they/them are good backups.

I've been into whump for as long as I can remember, but in my 33 years on the planet, I only learned last year that there's a whole community for it. I'd heard the term "whump" before, and kind of knew what it was, but never made the connection to the type of media I like.

There are some whump tropes that I'll always enjoy, but the favorite flavor of the week is usually on rotation from the following list:

Superhero whump

Kidnapping

Defiant/Stoic/Strong/Snarky Whumpees

Self-sacrificial Whumpee

Pushing oneself until collapse (especially for Heroes/Leaders)

Whumpers who feign rage, but are actually very calculated and careful in their treatment of Whumpee

Whumpers who actually lose their temper, especially when triggered by a defiant whumpee

Team whump

Non-human Whumpee (especially when it pertains to the good, old-fashioned "what makes us human" trope)

Drug/poison whump (Fucked up balance and altered perception, anyone?)

Medical whump (specifically, medical treatment, but "This is gonna hurt.")

Lab whump (especially testing the limits of a living weapon or attempting to forcibly manifest powers that may or may not exist)

The good, old-fashioned Beating trope

Pinned/Trapped

Drowning/asphyxiation

Environmental/Wilderness whump (extreme temperatures and survival)

Animal attacks

Used as bait

Infected wounds (especially when it comes to treatment of said wounds)

Self-surgery or self-care

Mind control (Specifically, conflict between Whumper/Whumpee within Whumpee's mind while Whumper tries to take control. OH! And Whumper causing Whumpee to experience things that didn't happen; I have a really neat story idea for this one!)

I'm sure I'm missing some, but I suppose I can amend this post when I remember some more. Some of my whump tastes are also kind of specific, so listing them concisely can be a challenge.

Not going to list my squicks here. (As the saying goes: "If you don't want someone to get your goat, don't let them know where it's tied.") However, if you're looking for NSFW-type whump, I don't typically write that. (Not for other folks, anyway; I'm rather terrible at it.)

I used to write a lot as a kid, but was often ashamed of my affinity for whump, so any time I tried to write it, I chickened out and wrote something else. I still wrote plenty of action and peril, but the whump was usually not as heavy as I initially imagined.

I've also been in a bit of a writing slump for... oh, goodness... It's going on 14 years now. I really want to get out of it, so I'm hoping whump writing will help.

Fun fact about me: A lot of my stories are grown from a kernel of whump. I think of a specific scenario I want to put an OC through, and then a whole story grows out of it.

Some of my favorite whump blogs include: @whump-me @whumperofworlds @allthewhumpygoodness @emmithar-blog @soheavyaburden @whumperfultime @roblingoblin285 @blackrosesandwhump @evilwriter-originals I'm still collecting whump blogs to follow, so feel free to interact if you're one such blog!

Also, I'm going to be rusty as hell, so please bear with me while I get my writing brain reinstalled in the ol' skull-housing.

Last thing (I know this post is long already): I've seen the way the whump community interacts and I'm happy to be a part of it. I'm not especially social myself, but I'm nonetheless proud to be part of such an amazing group of folks. Keep rockin', y'all!

[farfromstrange]

Hi lizzi!

How are you? I hope well.

I saw that your request box is open so I thought why not send one in

Hear me out, what reader goes to the office to see Matt and he's all alone in the office, so they fuck around but Matt isn't paying attention to sense and he doesn't hear foggy just down the hallway and Matt pull out of reader right when they were about to cum and he makes her go under his desk while he tries to look decent.

So when foggy goes to Matt's office, reader pulls out his cock and starts to suck him off while he's talking to foggy and he's trying not to make a face or sound of pleasure, so after foggy leaves Matt punishes reader

Please and thank you 💋

My dear, that request made me very... unwell. Thank you so much for sliding into my inbox and bringing the filth! I apologize for the wait but had to get in the Matt mood again. Well, needless to say, this really did get me in the mood again. I hope you like it!

Naughty Girl | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You and Matt get interrupted while getting it on in his office. You can't stop yourself from taking what you want, and Matt is not happy about it.

Warnings: SMUT, PWP, MINORS DNI, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral (f!receiving), oral m!receiving, female masturbation, multiple orgasms, exhibitionism, choking, marking kink, BREEDING KINK (I went hard on that this time), rough sex, slight mean!dom!Matt, degrading, spanking, pure filth served on a silver platter

Word Count: 2.4k

A/n: Y'all I- I'm not even going to say anything. Smut right under the cut.

18+ From Here On Out...

With every harsh thrust of his cock into your tight walls, the desk underneath you creaks. You can see the legs shaking alongside yours through hazy eyes, but you’re too far gone to care whether or not the wood will give out. 

The second you came into the office, Matt had you bent over the desk. First, he ate your sweet cunt as if it were the last lunch he would ever have, and then he forced you onto your stomach and started pounding into you. The position repeatedly allows him to brush against your G-spot and reach your cervix, fucking into you at a pace that has you seeing starts, your moans bouncing off the walls, and you lose yourself in the feeling of him, his hands, and his cock. You love lunch times like this. He never leaves you dissatisfied. 

Heat wraps around him like a cocoon. Nothing exists in the Nelson & Murdock office but you and him. Your cunt wraps around his cock so impossibly tight, Matt drowns in the feeling. Your moans overtone the noise of the city and he can only smell your sweet arousal in the air, your sweat and your tears of pleasure, and your juices still glistening on his lips. He revels in it. Once he has his hands on you, you’re more than willing to let him do whatever he wants, whatever he needs, and he does so. But he knows well that you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for him.

Today though, it’s his turn to ruin you, and the empty office made it impossible for him to keep his hands to himself when you came strolling in with that short skirt he fucked you in the day before; it smells like you, and him and sex, and you walk around shamelessly with it as if he can’t smell you five blocks down, or smell the wetness between your legs when you only think about him. You drive him wild with carnal desire, and he wants nothing more than to die between your legs, perhaps even with his cock buried in your velvety walls. He wants nothing more than to fill you up, fuck you until you can’t walk straight, mark you, make you his, tie you down, and ravish you until not a single thought crosses your mind – you’re his little cockdruck slut and he makes sure to tell you that over and over and over again. 

You’re a whimpering mess, reaching back to dig your nails into his hips. You’re so wet, so tight; skin slaps against skin, your nipples brush the wood of the table and you cry out again, and his breathing echoes in his ears. His senses are completely attuned to you, focused on your body, for the signs you’re giving him, the sound of your approaching orgasm, your cunt, your tits, your heartbeat, your everything. He feels your pulse jump under his fingers when he hauls you up to choke you, and you moan again. God, he thinks, this would be such a heavenly way to go out. 

He doesn’t focus for only a moment, but a moment is all it takes for the bubble to burst. Matt hears Foggy’s footsteps first, then his heartbeat, then his voice, and he has never pulled out of you faster. 

The world crashes back into you when your orgasm vanishes, slipping out of your reach, and you gawk at him. 

“Matt, what–” you begin, but he presses his hand against your mouth. 

He’s still hard, your wetness leaking from his cock, but his unfocused eyes seem panicked. “Get under the desk, now!” he says. 

It’s not a game, you can tell. 

“What?”

“Foggy.”

“Oh.”

You should have figured that getting carried away during lunch break would be a bad idea. 

Matt barely manages to sit down in his chair and fix his hair before his door busts open. 

“Matt,” Foggy waltzes in without a care in the world, “you won’t believe what Marci just told me!"

Your knees already hurt, but you can’t switch positions or he might hear you. You come face to face with Matt’s straining erection in his pants, and an idea comes to your mind. 

You’re a naughty little thing, his voice echoes in your head, but he promised he would make sure you could both get what you both wanted without getting caught and he failed. You’re desperate, your cunt aching for him, and you need to get off somehow. 

Matt sighs at Foggy’s comment. His cheeks are still flushed and he can’t think straight, but he has to appear professional to keep his dignity and yours. “You know what I think about you using your ex as a mo-oh!” His fist hits the desk’s surface. 

Your mouth wraps around his cock and you suck, hard. He comes almost right then and there. He didn’t hear you come closer, neither could he anticipate your behavior before it happened and now you’re sucking on his tip, knowing he is beyond sensitive, and Foggy is right there–

“I know,” Foggy says, and he seemingly doesn’t notice the new tension in his friend’s jaw or his hand gripping the edge of his desk. “But you said we needed more information, and you also hate when I bribe Brett– you know, you’re a hypocrite. You beat up bad guys for intel, but when I ask my ex to spy for me in exchange for sex that doesn't harm anyone, may I add, it’s suddenly World War Three. That's not fair! At least I care about... about the environment."

He says some more things, and they probably make sense, but Matt’s cock twitches in your mouth, so dangerously close to combusting, he listens with only half a quarter of an ear.

You take him down your throat fully, ignoring the urge to gag at his size. He tastes salty and slightly like you, his tip leaking pre-cum. He weighs heavy on your tongue, but the obscenity of it all makes you greedy to take him whole. Once you start, you can’t stop. You lick and suck and lick and suck, and he twitches again. 

His knuckles turn white around the wood and he casts a glare downward. You’re too lost in the pleasure his reaction is giving you, your hand working on your clit as you shamelessly suck his dick; you’re getting off on it, and it’s worse now that he can taste the molecules in the air. 

You’re going to regret this, but you don’t care because it feels too good to stop now. You just want to be naughty for once, get what you want and bring Matt Murdock to his knees. 

“Matt?” Foggy snaps his fingers in front of his face. 

He doesn’t notice he’s biting his fist until it starts hurting. 

“What?” he asks, his voice strained. He twitches in his chair, but he has nowhere to go. 

He’s about to come, the sound of your fingers working on your clit following the rushing of the blood in his veins, and that’s enough to cause his balls to tense up under your skilled fingers. 

“I said I was gonna check in with Marci,” says Foggy. “Usually, you have something smart to say to me. I’m waiting.”

“Good idea,” Matt says. 

“What?”

“Go.”

“Seriously?”

“Go!” It sounds almost like a warning. "Do the- the thing with Marci. Just do it, I don't care. Go do it!"

What his friend says next, he doesn’t register. He only hears the door fall shut, and then he’s coming hard into your hot mouth. You moan as your own orgasm washes over you, which only makes you suck harder, and his forehead falls to the desk as he muffles his howl. His toes curl. You lit the match, threw it on the gasoline, and now he’s burning. 

You suckle on his tip until he’s overstimulated and only then do you pull off. 

Part of you expects gratitude when you slowly crawl out from under the desk, but once Matt has found back to himself, his face darkens completely. This is not the man you started teasing before Foggy came around, not the gentle nature your boyfriend has reserved only for you – you’re looking into the eyes of a man equally as horny as he is pissed off with you, and you know what that look means. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growls. 

Oh-oh. 

He gets up and towers over you. “Touching yourself like that, sucking my dick like the needy little whore that you are with Foggy in the same room while I was talking to him… How desperate for my cock do you have to be that you have to act like such a slut?” 

You wipe your mouth. “Sorry,” you mutter. 

He listens to your heartbeat. “No,” Matt chuckles darkly, “You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but you’re not sorry.”

Next thing you know, your face is pressed against the wall and he cages you in like an animal on the prowl. The blinds are closed, Foggy is gone again, and your skirt lands on the floor. “Such a needy pussy,” he purrs into your ear. “You’re dripping.”

“Fuck, yes,” you moan. 

He pulls at your hair. “Don’t even think you’re getting rewarded.”

The slight pain makes you hiss. 

“I’m gonna fuck you as hard as I want now, and you’re gonna take it. You know why?”

“I–”

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been a bad girl.”

“That’s right. And what happens to bad girls, baby?”

“They get punished.”

“Exactly, so that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna fuck you until your pussy is full of my cum and then I’ll decide if you deserve to come or not. Are we clear?”

His words shoot straight to your core. You’re not scared, you know how he is, you have a safeword and yet, you’re enjoying this a lot more than you should. “Yes, sir,” you breathe. 

When he hears the honorific from your mouth, uttered oh so sweetly close to his ears, he pushes you further into the walls and thrust his cock into you. He doesn’t wait, he sets a ruthless pace from the beginning, and it’s harder than he fucked you before. 

Desire drives him to ruin you. Sweat drips off both of your bodies, mingling and turning into an almost toxic mixture. His white shirt is stained wet now, his tie loosened, and when you look over your shoulder to see his slack jaw and his bared teeth, you tighten around his cock. He looks so good, he renders you speechless, useless, everything. 

His fingers are sure to leave their bruises, just how you like it. His teeth nip at your neck. His grip tightens around your throat, knocking the air out of your lungs – you can’t breathe. He knows exactly where to press to turn you light-headed, yet needy for more. Your moans get caught in your throat, your nails claw at the wallpaper, and he only picks up speed. 

The line between pain and pleasure blurs. You find yourself on the edge in minutes, even without his fingers on your clit. You are so worked up, your body follows him where he wants you to go. 

He lowers his mouth to your ear. “Don’t fucking come,” he warns. 

You shiver. You’re right there, but you know you have to comply. It hurts, but it’s so good. 

His cock twitches, he’s close too, and he wraps his arm around your waist entirely to keep you straight as he fucks up into you and pushed you flat against the wall. You’re his toy to use now, and you let him. The angle drives you to hell and back, his cock brushing where you need him most but you don’t want him there because you are almost there, tethering over the edge and you are sure if he keeps going like that you are going to–

With a loud shout of your name, he comes deep inside of you. You swear you can still taste him on your tongue as he fills you up. He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts until you’re full of his cum, your walls milking everything he has to give and more, but the man knows no mercy. 

“Want me to fuck a baby into you?” he pants. “Is that what you want? So desperate for my cum, you need it everywhere, even your mouth? And now you want me to fuck a baby into your pussy?”

Holy shit. Whatever has gotten into him makes you sweat even more when you hear his words. 

“Yes!” you cry. “God, yes, Matthew! Please! Please! Please–”

“You need my cum? You need me to fuck you until you’re full of it?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I need your cum, Matthew! Please, I need it. I want it. I want you– please!”

His palm collides with your ass cheeks and he hisses like a snake on the prowl. “Come for me,” he says. 

You instantly lock up. Your muscles tense and you come with a scream; he doesn’t muffle it, he lets you let it out, and his grip is stern as he continues fucking his cum into your quivering pussy. You mewl, but he doesn’t let off. His fingers are everywhere. It burns. 

Only when he’s spent and satisfied does he stop, and you almost lose control over your legs. 

“Shh,” you hear him whisper into your ear. Gone is the dominant Matt who was about to ready to destroy you. He flicks the switch and he’s fully himself again. 

Stroking your hair, he makes sure to be careful when he pulls out. You whimper. He takes you into his arms. “I’m sorry,” Matt says, “Are you okay?”

You’re both panting, sweaty messes, but God, did it feel good. 

You can only muster a small nod and he holds you tighter in response. “Breathe,” he reminds you. “I’m here.”

With his fingers in your hair, you slowly find back to yourself. He carries you into his chair with him where he holds you some more, making sure you don’t lose yourself along the way. He offers you water, a tissue, everything, and you don’t feel used, you never could, not when he acts like this whenever he is rough with you. 

There is a reason you love him, and it’s not just mind-blowing sex. 

“Sorry for sucking your cock while Foggy was in the room,” you murmur, your voice sounded like a drunken slur. 

Matt chuckles, which quickly turns into a laugh. “You are so naughty sometimes, you know that?” he says. 

You shrug. “Guilty as charged, counselor.”

His lips find your forehead. “My naughty girl.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.”

You love Matt Murdock and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. You are gladly his because you know, no matter how dominant he is, he will always have a soft spot for you. 

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t

[barnesafterglow]

sweet like honey

summary: you have a thing for bucky's height. he just might have a thing for all of you

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: modern au, smut (unprotected sex, pull out method, fingering), voyeurism but also not really?, size difference, bucky has BDE, bucky is BDE, bucky is also tall as a motherfucker, excessive use of the word honey, lesbian nat and wanda as always, fayth if you're reading this i'm sorry in advance

a/n: here's the next prompt of my kinktober! i've actually had the time the past couple days to write and and motivation is high so i'm so happy to share this with y'all! please make sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed this. every single one means the world to me

you can join my kinktober taglist or follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on my fics! 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

It started as a joke at first. Bucky would pat you on the head as he passed you or comment on how cute and short you were. As if everyone wasn’t short compared to him. Even his roommate, Steve, had to raise his eyes just a hair to meet Bucky’s.

It started as a joke, but somewhere along the way it started to…do things to you.

The way he treated you like something delicate and precious. The way his huge hands touched you so casually. The way his hug completely engulfed you when he was drunk and a little more touchy.

You had moved into your apartment almost a year before, and immediately befriended the two girls - Natasha and Wanda - across the hall. They introduced you to Steve, in the apartment next to yours. They talked about Steve’s roommate, James, who was in Romania visiting his family. You were curious about him, because everyone talked so highly of him. And they were such amazing friends in such a short amount of time to you, you couldn’t imagine how James would be.

When he finally did come home, you didn’t even meet him again for almost a week because you just had opposite schedules.

But when you did… Holy shit.

He was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. And no one had mentioned how fucking tall he was. You thought Steve was massive, probably 6’6” or so, and even he had to look up to James - or Bucky, as he immediately insisted you call him.

The five of them - you finally met Sam not long after you met Bucky, who lived in DC most of the time but stayed with Bucky and Steve when he had a few weeks off - welcomed you with open arms and became some of your best friends.

Which is why you kept your ever growing crush on Bucky pushed way, way down. You didn’t want to lose them and if anything went wrong - whether it be dating and breaking up or him just not being interested in you that way - you knew you would be the odd one out.

That all changed one day in the early fall. Nat and Wanda - who, you learned very quickly, were a couple - had taken a trip for their anniversary and Steve had gone to visit Sam. Bucky had volunteered to stay behind and make sure their cat, Alpine, was okay. He also said he didn’t want to leave you lonely, but you blushed and swatted him away.

You had just got off work and it had been a completely terrible day. The only thing that got you through was the promise of a movie night with Bucky. 

You wanted to go and see him immediately, but stopped by your apartment to change into something more comfortable first. By the time you were ready to head over, it was still a little earlier than you had originally planned, but you figured Bucky wouldn’t mind.

The door was unlocked, so you let yourself in, but Bucky wasn’t in the kitchen making popcorn like usual. You stopped for a moment and heard to shower running. You debated on whether or not to wait on the couch for him to get done or crawl into his bed and wait for him there. The comforting thought of his soft mattress and the scent of him encompassing you won out, and you were already curled up and ready to start the movie when you heard the shower stop.

You don’t really know what you had expected. You guessed you figured he would at least put underwear on before he came into his room, but you were very, very wrong.

When you looked up at the sound of his footsteps padding down the hall, you sat up to see him completely naked. You gasped and tried to avert your eyes, but ended up looking down and… wow.

Bucky wasn’t just tall. Didn’t just have big hands. He was big - absolutely massive - everywhere.

Panicked, you looked up again at his face to see he was utterly unphased. In fact, the corner of his mouth was turned up into his signature smirk, the kind you’d only seen when everyone went out to the bar together and he was trying to pick up someone to take home for the night.

“Like what you see?” You could feel the heat flood your face at his question, and you turned your head away from him. “Hey, honey. Just look at me.”

You refused, shaking your head, and you heard a shuffle from the other side of the room. Suddenly he was crouched in front of you, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. You thought it might be the end, your friendship was over and you would lose your favorite people in the world. But there was a reason you adored Bucky so much.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he said, trying to comfort you. “We can still watch a movie and forget this ever happened, if you want.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and let him rearrange you back into bed. You were thankful that he had already put on a pair of boxer briefs, and then put on a pair of sweatpants before sliding into the other side of the bed.

Trying to steer things back into a normal direction, you asked him what movie he wanted to watch. He thought for only a moment before answering.

“I’m in a nineties mood, how about Basic Instinct?” You nodded in agreement, just going with whatever he wanted and not thinking much about it.

He still wrapped his arm around you like he usually did, and everything felt normal.

At least until the scene with Sharon Stone came on - one of the most provocative scenes in film history. As it played out, you felt heat spread through your core, and squeezed your thighs together in hopes that you could stave it off. 

Of course, Bucky immediately noticed something was off.

“Are you okay, honey?” What was with the nicknames tonight? They were an everyone once in a while thing usually, but tonight he was showering you with them. You were too busy trying to calm your swirling thoughts to notice the knowing tone in his voice. “Is something wrong with the movie?”

“N-no. Just forgot how graphic it was.”

“Is that an issue?” Now you heard that cocky tone, and you had no idea what it meant for you - or your relationship with Bucky.

“Of course not, I just -” You stopped, not entirely sure where you were headed with your sentence.

“It was just getting you wet, ain’t that right, honey?” His hand moved slowly down your body, giving you a chance to stop him if you wanted.

You thought about it, but you wanted to see where this would lead you. 

His hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts, and was met with your soaked core.

“Not wearing any panties? No wonder I could smell you.”

You whimpered at his words, at the thought of him knowing this whole time how affected you were. 

He slid his middle finger through your folds, collecting some of the wetness, and pulled his hands from your shorts. You wanted to protest, ask him why he was no longer touching you, then he stuck his finger in his mouth, tasting your juices.

“Sweet like honey. Just like I thought you’d be.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before his fingers crept towards your waistband. This time, though, he didn’t move under them. He stopped, looking directly into your eyes. “Please tell me you want this as much as I do.”

“I want you,” you whispered, and that was all he needed.

Suddenly, Bucky was on top of you and his weight pushing you into the mattress was just as amazing as you had imagined it, late at night with your hand between your thighs.

Which is where Bucky’s were now, slipping down to pull your shorts off. He settled between your thighs, spreading them wide, and skated his hand back up your body, purposely avoiding the one place you needed him most, and instead slipped under your t-shirt to pull that off too.

You tugged at his sweatpants, wanting him to be as bare as you were, and he happily let you. Once his sweats were off his legs, you tried to reach your hand between them, but Bucky lightly slapped it away.

“Buck,” you whined, high and needy, and he looked down at you, eyes boring into your own. “C’mon.”

“Need to get you ready for me, honey.”

And the rough timber of his voice could have made you come right then. It did make you clench your thighs together again, trapping his hand there.

“I know you’re desperate for it. But you’re gonna thank me, I promise.” With that, he slipped one finger into you.

It slid in easily, more than wet enough for him, but even that one finger on that huge hand of his stretch you open just a bit. You threw your head back in pleasure, and when he added a second finger you turned your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.

He pulled his fingers out, slapping the inside of your thigh and leaving a streak of you there.

“I want to hear all those pretty sounds you make. Hearing ‘em through the wall ain’t enough anymore.”

You stared at him, wide eyed, and he just chuckled before sliding his fingers back into you - three this time. And even with just three fingers, it was the most stretched out you had ever been.

If you weren’t so needy for him, you might’ve been scared of just how big you knew he would be.

“Bucky, please. I’m ready for you.”

“If you say so, honey.”

He spread your legs even wider, somehow, and you finally got a close look at him. 

It was beautiful, tip red and leaking, and bigger than you could have ever imagined. This time, he let you reach out to touch him, and your hands barely wrapped around the girth of him - middle finger and thumb hardly grazing each other as you tried to slide your hand up and down.

His hand came down to replace yours, and he tapped his length against your stomach, showing you just how far he would fuck into you. Tip going just beyond your belly button, you clenched around nothing at the thought of it. 

You lifted your hips, trying to tell him with your body that you were more than ready.

Bucky pushed down your hips - one hand spanning nearly the entire width of your abdomen, and slid his cock through your folds to get it slicked up.

His tip teased at your entrance, and just before he slid into, he looked into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded, grabbing the hand that was on your hip and intertwining your fingers, squeezing tight.

With that, he pushed into you, little by little, and your moans were so loud you were certain the entire apartment complex could hear you.

“That’s it, honey,” he said as he finally bottomed out. “Take all of my cock.”

You clenched around him, squeezing him even tighter, and when you came from just his first thrust, you knew every other man would be ruined for you.

Every thrust after was like a punch to the gut. You whined, trying not to pass out at the intense feelings he pulled from your body. He bent down, kissing you much too sweetly for the way he was fucking you, and you realized it was your first kiss of the night.

You always thought romance books were bullshit when they talked about sparks flying, but you knew now that they were right. Bucky’s kiss consumed you, setting fireworks off that made you dizzy; made you see stars and planets and the rest of the universe. You knew from the look on his face as he pulled away that he felt it too.

What really did you in, though, was when he pushed down on your stomach, right at the spot where his tip caressed you inside. The feeling pulled another orgasm from you, and the tightness of your walls around him pushed him over the edge too. He pulled out, coming in large streaks over your stomach and tits.

The warm feeling made you moan again, and he swallowed it down with a deep kiss.

“Are you okay?” he asked against your lips.

“I’m gonna have trouble walking tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

He let out a loud laugh, kissing your nose and rolling over to set you on top of him, paying no mind to the mess between your bodies.

“Gotta make sure I really do a number on you, then,” he said, pulling you down for another kiss.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader 

[mikachacha]

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝. 3

Synopsis: Bada wanted you to stay in Korea with her as she found work there but then your relationship is falling apart rapidly.

Warnings: toxic relationship and behaviours, angst. This'll be pretty heavy so please if you're not into this kind of stuff, you can ignore this update and wait for the regular fluffs and smuts 🫶🫶

(A/N: i hope none of y'all are experiencing this in real life or if you have experienced this, im so sorry that you have gone through such shit relationship but don't give up, yeah? Things will get better eventually.)

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

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It hasn't been well for you and Bada ever since that incident while meeting her friends. You still couldn't believe how she can do that to you. You wanted to get away but at the same time you want to mend your relationship with her. You didn't wanna lose her despite everything that has happened. Plus she's showing lots of effort for you to forgive her. She even got an apartment in Seoul so you and her can live there and won't have to pretend to be best friends anymore like you did at her parents' house. It was a big step for you both but then it also meant that whenever a fight would break out between you and her, you had no one to run off to.

"Jesus.. You scared me!" you exclaimed. You were in the kitchen, making some tea since you just couldn't fall asleep. You've been having a hard time falling asleep the past few days as thoughts plague your mind. Bada noticed you weren't in bed next to her so she got up and searched for you, only to find you making tea in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry my love.. Didn't mean to scare you. Was just confused since you weren't there beside me. Having trouble falling asleep?" she asked and you nodded. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a warm embrace and kissing the top of your head. You melted in her arms. You missed moments like this with her.

"Baby.. I may need to go back to the states soon. I got a job offer there." you told her and she hugged you even tighter, like it's her own way of telling that you shouldn't go back and to just stay with her in Korea.

"Y/N.. Do you really wanna leave me all alone here? I got this apartment for us and then you're gonna go back to the states?" Bada's questions made your heart ache. You didn't wanna leave her despite everything.

"I.. I don't know if I'll be able to find a job here, Bada.. I don't speak Korean that well and I don't want you to shoulder all the expenses for us." you tried to reason with her that led to an hour long discussion about applying as an English teacher there or working from home as long as you don't leave her. You were tired and just wanted to sleep so you agreed. The next morning, Bada helped you search for jobs before she went to her own. She has been hired as a teacher at a dance studio nearby and she's got to work with artists as well. You're happy for her since it has been her dream to be able to work with artists and teach people to dance.

"So baby, we're going somewhere this Friday. The studio is holding a welcome party for me and I want you to be there with me. I want you to meet my workmates and some friends." Bada said as she came home one day. What happened when you last went out with her to meet with someone didn't end up well but you wanted to move past that and you also didn't want to disappoint her so you agreed to go with her. You really don't want to start an argument with her as you're still trying to fix your relationship up.

"Yeah.. Is it a formal event? Do I need to really dress up?" you asked and she placed her head on your shoulder. She played with your hand, drawing patterns and kissing it.

"Maybe a dress would be fine. It's not too formal plus you look amazing either way." Bada says that made your heart flutter and heat to creep up your cheeks. She really knows how to win you over even with just words.

The night of the event came and it was rather chill. You didn't feel that out of place since you've been studying Korean when you had time to spare. You were able to hold conversations and didn't cling to Bada that much. You were having fun, chattering with some of Bada's friends when you saw something that shattered you to pieces. It was Bada and a girl who looked so familiar. It was Redy, one of Bada's exes before she started dating you. She was clinging to Bada like they're still a couple and the sight made you feel physically sick that you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You're just crying there, trying to convince yourself that it's probably nothing and that you're just overthinking stuff when the door opened and there stood one of Bada's dancer friends.

"Hey are you okay? What happened? Should I call Bada to come here?" the woman asked and you shook your head, wiping your tears away. You're embarrassed that this stranger saw you in a vulnerable state.

"Y-yeah I'm okay.. Sorry you had to see me like this.. But I'm good, everything's good. No need to call Bada." you assured her and she offered to help you freshen up which really helped you calm down.

"I'm Monika by the way and if you need to talk to someone, you can reach me via Instagram." Monika says and you followed her on instagram to which she reciprocated. You thanked her and gave her a hug just in time that Bada came in the bathroom, looking for you and saw you hugging Monika. The look on her face terrified you and your heart sank knowing that this will be another fight between you and her.

Monika excused herself when she saw Bada and now, you're left alone with your girlfriend who looked really pissed off. She looked at you before grabbing you firmly by the wrist and basically dragged you back to the car. The whole car ride was filled with deafening silence but it was a whole different scenario when you were finally inside your shared apartment.

"So what was that all about? Lusher told me that you excused yourself to go to the bathroom and haven't returned after 20 minutes. What were you doing there? Flirting with Monika?! What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N?! Am I not enough?!" Bada yelled at you and you flinched. She was still holding on to your wrist rather tightly and it's starting to hurt now.

"Let me go, Bada.. You're hurting me.." you told her and she did let you go but she didn't stop yelling at you and accusing you of cheating.

"Hurting you? Have you ever thought about how much you've hurt me when I saw you hugging Monika?! Who knows what else happened there!" Bada was absolutely furious and you're starting to get pissed off as well. She's accusing you of cheating yet you saw her and Redy looking like they're still together while Bada couldn't be bothered to even check on you, spend at least a minute with you in that party.

"You're really going absolutely crazy about me hugging Monika when you were the one having her ex cling to them and couldn't be bothered to check on their girlfriend the whole night! I was crying in that damn bathroom because you were never there for me, you were paying more attention to your damn ex more than me! How was I supposed to react to that, huh?!" you finally snapped back and Bada just stormed off to your shared bedroom and locked you out so you slept on the couch that night.

The days went by and you could really feel you and Bada drifting apart. She wouldn't even look at you, wouldn't speak to you. It was horrible and you felt like everything was your fault. How did it come to this? What went wrong? Where was the Bada you once knew and loved? You were about to message her when a friend messaged you first, asking if you and Bada broke up since all your pictures together are apparently deleted from Bada's socials which was a shock to you. You checked and sobs wracked your body at what you saw. It was true, it seems like Bada has erased you from her life already.

With a heavy heart, you grabbed all your belongings and packed your bags. You left the apartment and booked a hotel. You're just gonna stay there for a bit until you can find a cheap apartment to stay. You were planning on leaving Korea once your contract with the company you're currently working at ends. You deactivated all your socials and only kept in touch with your friends and family from the states. You just wanted to be alone and away from Bada to really think things through. To think if the relationship is still worth it or if you needed to just let go of it.

—————

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lil-elliesgf, @efyyylee, @hwm1hyun, @mikaleialt, @bunnywonyo, @badaswifey, @mrs-grim-reaper

[daydreamgoddess14]

Deserving

Part of the 200 Followers celebration! From the request for @onceuponaoneshot :

Roy Kent x F!Reader - "You deserve better"

Filthy smutty smut y'all. You've been warned! This is also a part 3 to Complaints Procedure & Noisy.

~~~~~

He was gone. 

 

You'd seen the tackle, watched from home as Jamie Tartt knocked him to the floor and damaged his knee for good. He hadn't needed to do anything for the paperwork, Ted had it all under control, and it allowed Roy the distance he needed from Nelson Road. You wondered if you'd even crossed his mind. The boot room hadn't been the end of it. You'd never instigated anything yourself, but he'd sought you out occasionally. You'd let him lose himself in you, always slightly demanding but never degrading, you'd challenge him and go toe to toe on who had the upper hand. He'd wanted to fuck his frustration and anger away and you were a willing participant. It was no strings, no commitments and while you knew it wouldn't last, you didn't expect him to just disappear without a backward glance. 

 

No one seemed to know how he'd fared since he was last seen at Nelson Road and you had no real reason to check in on him. So how you found yourself knocking on his door at 11pm on a random Tuesday night was utterly beyond comprehension. 

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too."

"I mean it, why are you here? Did he send you?"

"Ted? Why would you think that? I thought I'd check in and see how you were?" He grunted. 

"Or you fancied a good fuck?"

"Y'know what, forget I came. I didn't come here to be insulted." You turned to leave,

"No, praise is your thing isn't it? Like to be told you're a good girl." He sneered, leaning against the door frame. 

"Fuck you Roy, you're obviously fine. I'll leave you to it."

"What's up? You're usually into this little fucking game we play?"

"Yeah, when it's mutually good. You're just being a dick for the sake of it. I'm the idiot who thought you might need someone to talk to, I needn't have bothered." You're halfway up his drive when he responds.

"Don't go. At least come and have a drink. You can tell me all the shit everyone's been up to." You cock your head to one side, "I'm sorry for being a dick. I shouldn't have been rude to you." You still hesitate. "You're a sight for sore eyes. It's been too long."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Mine." He admits with a self conscious shrug. 

"You're fucking right it is." Your brushed passed him and into the house, "and I'll have a glass of wine please." You weren't new to small talk with Roy, though it did usually occur after he'd made you come multiple times. You made yourself comfortable on his sofa and watched him in the kitchen, pouring wine from the fridge for both of you. 

"I didn't mean to upset you." He puts the glass down in front of you. 

"You didn't. You know I'm not easily offended, but there's a difference between our usual tête-á-tête and you just being plain fucking mean after 3 months of solitary confinement."

"It's not been solitary."

"I heard you coach 9 year old girls now?"

"Who told you?"

"My niece is one of them, Quinn."

"She's fucking class."

"Hmm. Future England player maybe, according to my twat brother. You're still better than that, though," you drink more, looking for courage in the bottom of the glass, "and I wondered if you might call. More fool me."

"You don't want me to call."

"Says who? You?"

"You deserve better." He sighed. 

"Do I? Is that your conclusion or do I get to make my own?"

"Are you just going to keep questioning my opinion, or actually offer any of your own?" He countered. You smirked over the edge of your wine glass at his frustration.

"Well, you haven't let me have an opinion yet, have you? You've decided that I don't want you to call and that I deserve better, all by yourself. Shall I just submit all future decisions to you from now on?" He shook his head, 

"I've fucking missed your attitude." He stood, taking the empty glass from your hand and putting it on the table, and then gripped your wrist gently to pull you to standing. "I'd carry you, but -"

"You're a fucking idiot," you finished for him, reaching on your toes to kiss him. His arms circled your waist, 

"I'm a fucking idiot," he agreed with a mumble, his lips not leaving yours. You let him lead you to his bedroom. 

"An actual bed? Jesus Roy, you're spoiling me." You laugh, pulling his t-shirt off before taking a step back and slipping your own summer dress off and letting it fall to the floor. Your usual frenetic dalliances have meant that despite knowing your body intimately, he's never actually seen you naked. He drinks in the sight of you in summery coral lingerie in the dim lamplight, his eyes dark as you reach behind to unclip your bra and let it slide down your arms. You drop to your knees in front of him, pulling his shorts down over his hips. He's already half hard. You pull his shorts all the way off, and he steps out of them. On your way back to your goal, you pause just long enough to press a kiss to the inside of his bad knee. You hear the shaky breath leave his body and focus your attention elsewhere which allows him to do the same thing. This is not pity you try to convey with your actions. Your mouth waters in anticipation, all this hurried sex and you've never once had the chance to see him like this, to feel the weight of him in your mouth. You slide your tongue up the underside of his cock and swirl it around the hot tip. He rocks against you, his hands fisted at his side. You take his hands one at a time and put them on your head, looking up his long body to watch his reaction to you pumping his cock with kiss swollen lips. 

"Fuck me, you look so fucking good -" He rasps, his voice strained. You hum in agreement, the vibration running through his body. He tugs your hair lightly, the sensation sending waves of desire to your core and making your thighs rub together in desperation. When he pulls again, it's a request for you to stop, "I need to be inside you," he practically whimpers, pulling you up by the hand. You guide him the couple of steps back to the bed and he sits down heavily, dragging you into his lap as he does. You lift up onto your knees hands on his shoulders for balance as you line him up against you, shifting your underwear to one side. He cups your heavy breast with one hand while the other grabs the swell of your ass as you lower down onto him. With your thighs spread wide over his, the depth is incredible and takes a second to adjust to. His tongue follows his hand across your nipple, taking it into his mouth, rolling it and biting gently. It's enough to have you grinding against his cock and arching your back to have him fill you right to the hilt. Then he echoes the words you've always told him in a desperate whisper, "fuck me." Your forearms on his shoulders give you the perfect leverage to rise and fall on him over and over, the proximity means he's able to lavish attention on your breasts while his hands kneed and grasp your hips, helping you keep your rhythm while his cock splits you open. "God, you're so fucking beautiful," he groans, capturing your mouth in a rough, needy kiss. Considering your previous interactions left you the one feeling needy and yielding, you're currently feeling like the powerful one. He brings his hand up to your mouth, running his thumb across your bottom lip and letting you suck it. He uses it to brush against your clit and you lean back in his arms, partly to give him access and partly so he can watch as you take his cock. 

"See how you fill me up so perfectly?" You breathe, gasping as his circles against your clit bring you closer to release. "Do you even know what you do to me?" You ask, pulling him closer again with a kiss. "This is what I fucking want, this is what I deserve." You tell him. You'd say more, but your words have his hips stuttering as he comes inside you, the feeling pulling you over the edge with him and your words turning to incoherent affirmations and praise. His hands still your hips as you collapse into him, your head falling to the crook of his neck. He kisses your shoulder and up into the spot behind your ear that makes your body unintentionally buck against him. 

"Fucking hell, I'm never avoiding you for 3 months again. You'll be lucky if you get 3 minutes of peace from me ever again." He mutters, biting your earlobe. 

"Promise?" You ask with a low laugh. 

 

FIN

[biffhofosho]

Hot Girls _____ | Chapter One

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Technically a slow-burn romance

Pairing: Changkyun x OC

Chapter Word Count: 7.4k

Trope: Friends to fuckbuddies to lovers

The Vibe: Cute girl who wants to feel hot, fuckboi best friend who wants to help because he’s a loyal bestie, sexuality mentorship lolwut, makeover tropes, booze, parties, jealousy, overprotectiveness, sexting, lots of praise with the intent on corruption (in an empowering way?) eheh, ill-fated friends with benefits agreement, best laid plans falling apart as they do, everyone figuring out their shit for the best

Synopsis: Her whole life, Vi’s been known as the cute one, the cherub-cheeked sweetheart who’s got it all together. She’s a good girl, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be, especially when she keeps losing out to the bad ones.

Vi’s best friend, Changkyun, however, is hardly a saint. He’s a consumer of hot girls, chronically unattached and comfortable that way. If anybody knows how to help Vi step out of her shell and take back her confidence, it’s him. It’s a good thing she can always count on her Kyun to step up to the plate.

A/N: Inadvertently wrote myself into another multichapter fic the second I got the Kyun 1st Lookmagazine in my hands. I'll think about that magazine until the day I die, whew. The fuckboi realness was too strong, and I am far too weak. And we already know I can’t fight the best friends to lovers trope, so here we are again.

I really wanted to get this first chapter out on my birthday, but I've had two terrible weeks in a row that just sucked the life out of me, and it's the high season at work, so it's been crushing. I couldn't even be bothered to make a cute banner for this; however, I was NOT going to put this off anymore.

I'll also be posting the first chapter of something else in the near future (so long as there are no more dastardly interuptions. Hope y'all are getting a chance to see Kyun in concert. I'm too much of a chicken to go, but my friends who have said it was incredible. What a man!

Cvr | 01 | 02 |

Chapter One

It all came down to today.

Vi reapplied her lip gloss, slid her glasses to the bridge of her nose, fluffed out her curly bob, and smoothed the pleats in her skirt one final time. In the company award showcase, she glanced at her ginger complexion dusted liberally with espresso freckles and took a deep breath.

You can do this, Vi. This is what you’ve been working toward for months.

Steeling herself, she turned the corner into Henry’s office. Her coworker looked up from his desk and beamed. “Hey, you. Looking cute today, I see.”

Normally, “cute” was Vi’s most feared word, but coming from Henry, she didn’t mind. “Thanks…”

“I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?” she asked giddily.

“Yeah. Want to go to lunch today?”

“That sounds awesome. When do you want to go?”

Henry glanced at the clock on his monitor and popped an eyebrow. “Five minutes?”

Vi bit her lip to cover her excessive smile. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just get my bag.”

“Meet you downstairs then.”

Despite the fact that Henry hadn’t walked her to her desk, he had asked her to lunch—for the first time ever. Chiseled, square-jawed Henry Williams. Broad, stacked Henry Williams. Tall, honey-voiced Henry Williams. Was. Taking. Viola Flowers. To lunch. She had gone to his office to ask him out, but, miracle of miracles, he had asked her instead. Nothing could touch her now.

Vi grabbed her crocheted cross-body and bounded down the steps to the lobby, where, true to form, Henry waited. His hands were stuffed in his suit pockets, and her brain turned to mush at the sight. She was lucky she remembered how to walk in her platforms because the moment he flashed his cool guy smile at her, the one that rounded out his stubbly jaw, her heart skipped as hard as her toe across the floor.

“You’re fast,” he observed.

“I’m excited.” When her words made it to her ears, heat flooded Vi’s body. “You know me. I love lunch.”

I love lunch? she lamented internally. Gross, Vi. Seriously gross. Ugh.

“Where do you want to go?” she pressed.

Henry craned his head to peer at the sky through the storefront and suggested, “Looks pretty nice out. Want to just walk to the taco truck around the corner?”

She did not. How on earth could she eat a taco and still look attractive? Besides, food trucks didn’t have tables, and she really wanted to share a table with him; staring straight into those deep-as-night eyes would be a dream come true. But Vi said none of that. She couldn’t risk turning him down and losing out on their first-ever lunch, not after investing nearly half a year into her fishing campaign.

“Okay,” she answered.

“Cool. Then we can just grab a seat under a tree or something. Looks like there’s some benches around.”

Vi smiled. Okay, this was better than she’d hoped. Side by side? She could find a way to brush her leg against his. Maybe he’d look down at her bare knee. Maybe he’d accidentally graze it. She was getting ahead of herself, but maybe he’d yank her into the supply closet and pin her up against the door…

Her throat was already closing up at the thought.

“You’re up. Whatever you want, I’m buying,” said Henry with a gentle bump to her shoulder.

Vi didn’t even remember walking to the truck, but it was already her turn to order. On the off chance that the supply closet was in her near future, she ordered a simple quesadilla, though Henry seemed totally unconcerned with such pretenses judging by his extra onions carne asada.

Once they had their lunch, they found a bench under a tree around the corner where the shade was just right to block the noon sun. A few other coworkers buzzed by with waves for them, but Vi was happy to note that she had Henry totally to herself. They chatted through their first bites before he downed his final taco in one big chomp.

“Okay, I can’t wait anymore,” said Henry the second he swallowed. “I know you’re still eating, but I have to ask you something.”

Vi blinked at him, and her oversized eyes had never been bigger.

Henry laughed. “Relax. It’s a good thing—no, a great thing, even.”

She gulped down her bite and smoothed the edges of her skirt as she gnawed on her bottom lip. It took her a second to calm the jumping beans in her stomach, but Vi said, “What’s up?”

“You know, I mean I think you know, that you’re my best friend in the office, right?”

“Oh, um, cool. For sure,” she mumbled as she brushed her buoyant curls forward to hide the nervous expression on her face. “You’re mine, too.”

“Which is why I trust you more than anyone else here. I know you’re a few years younger than I am, but I swear you know more about everything than I do, and you’d never steer me wrong.”

Vi’s excitement fumbled for a minute though she clung as best she could to it. “I try. What’s going on?”

Henry squared up to her then, and at last, her fantasy seemed within her reach. When he swiveled, his knees bumped hers, and he patted the swath of her bare thigh apologetically, sending a rush through her body like someone had blown a huge head of dandelion seeds along her skin. He leaned in a little closer with a dopey grin. He rubbed a hand on the back of his head as his coffee skin glowed in the filtered sunlight.

Here it was, Vi’s favorite trait of his. Henry might be menacingly hot, but he was also a geek at heart, so after he railed into her, she pictured them drifting off to some anime in the background.

Henry cleared his throat. “How soon is too soon to call someone after hooking up?”

What was left of Vi’s quesadilla slipped off her lap and tumbled upside down on the sidewalk. She was too stunned by his question though to pay attention to it.

“What?” she managed through a slack jaw.

Henry glanced at her food and frowned. Since she didn’t make a move for it, he picked it back up and put it between them on the bench. “Uh, Desiree and I hooked up last night, and even though I know you’re not a hook-up kind of girl, you are a girl and I trust you. I’m sure your friends have talked about this kind of stuff before, so you would have the inside track. I mean, I definitely want to hook up again, but isn’t it, like, sending the wrong kind of signal if I ask her to meet up again already? I mean, it’s not like either of us want a relationship, so I don’t want to scare her off.”

“You and Desiree hooked up?” Vi asked hollowly.

She pictured their other coworker, a bombshell of a woman if Vi had ever seen one in real life. Desiree was one of the company’s lawyers on staff, who was very successful at what she did, though Vi was sure that was due at least in part to the fact that she was so attractive, it made people want to give in to her regardless of their legal arguments. Desiree was tall and slender, with sleek ironed hair to the small of her back, which she always flaunted at the exact right moment with a full-body twirl to swing it over her shoulder. She was never without a pair of stilettos, a pencil skirt, and her signature ruby lipstick that made her warm nutmeg skin shimmer.

In one fell swoop, Vi had been ground to a pulp under the other woman’s pointed heel, and she wasn’t even here.

“Yeah, finally,” Henry beamed again, “after, what? The sixth time I asked?”

“I didn’t know you were into her…”

“Isn’t everybody?” he laughed. “She’s crazy hot.”

Vi did her best to keep her voice measured. “But you don’t want to date her?”

Henry shrugged. “I don’t want to date anyone. Too much baggage, I guess. This is so much easier. No feelings, no problems. Just fun, you know?”

She let out a long breath and sagged with it. “Yeah, I know. That’s sort of my best friend’s M.O., too.”

“See? I knew you’d know what to do. So, how soon is too soon?”

Vi pictured Changkyun now. Like Desiree, he was irresistible. With his black hair long enough to tie up in a little ponytail and sharp chin and even sharper cheeks, he cut an imposing figure, especially when he was sporting his favorite leather jacket and cologne. Vi called him catnip for women, and he never argued. He went through them like bottles of wine—savored for a night and tossed aside. The feminist side of her had, at times, wanted to be angry about it, but she’d never met one of his girls who had a complaint. Besides, the girls knew what they would be getting out of their night with him. Vi had always been the perennially out-of-touch one.

She toyed with the hem of her skirt as she answered, “I don’t think he ever repeats hookups honestly, so I don’t think he ever calls any of them back. I guess I’d say wait a few days though because, you’re right, if it were me and you hit me up the next day, I’d think you really liked me.”

Vi couldn’t help the stiffness in her voice, but Henry didn’t seem to notice. He was listening to her words, not to her, and nodding along.

“That’s what I thought. Is it okay if I ask her closer to the weekend? She’s not going to think that’s a date since it’s the weekend, right?”

“I don’t know, Henry. For someone who wanted something simple, you’re sure making this complicated.”

Her coworker did a double take at the barb in Vi’s tone, his full brows raised high. “Whoa, you okay?”

“Fine.”

Henry eyed her but said, “I get it. You’re right. I should just roll with it. Who knows? Maybe she’ll come to me.”

“Maybe.”

Vi stood and walked her quesadilla to the garbage can as he called, “Going in already? We still have twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, my lunch is ruined anyway. Thanks for paying. I’ll get you back someday.”

“You don’t need to—”

But she waved him off. “That’s what friends do. I’ll see you inside?”

Henry nodded slowly. He was obviously confused, but Vi needed to get back to her office before the sun exposed the heartbreak lurking under her skin.

“Sorry, I’m late,” came the cool voice as the door to her apartment opened and shut. “Work ran over, but I stopped by the liquor store to make up for it. How'd it go with Henry?”

Changkyun turned toward the kitchen and sighed.

“Oh shit. The depression hoodie.”

Vi slouched at her breakfast bar, wrapped up in her oversized Eeyore hoodie, the hood itself cinched tightly around her cherub face with its yarn mane fluttering every time the oscillating fan craned its head her way. She looked up at her best friend from under the curtain of her curls and pouted her bottom lip.

“Hey,” she said pitifully.

“Hey. You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

Changkyun pulled out a stool opposite hers and sat down, his eyes trained carefully on her.

“So…” he said. “I'm a little confused.”

Vi rolled her head on her hands to stare at him. “Why are you confused?”

“I thought that you said this guy was smart? Like, some big-time analyst or something.”

“He's both.”

“Well, he can't be that smart if he rejected you.”

“He didn't reject me,” she grumbled. “At least, he didn't know he did. He asked me to lunch just so he could get advice from his ‘cute’ office buddy about his ‘hot’ office hook-up.”

“Come again?” Changkyun said as he glared into space.

Vi sighed. “Seems he’s taking a page out of the Im Changkyun Friday-night playbook—fun and done. Well, maybe not quite. He wanted to know how soon is too soon to make another booty call.”

“Hey, you know that’s not my playbook. Repeats are too complicated. This idiot just wants— You know what? Fuck him.”

Her head sank to the counter, where her forehead rocked against the cold laminate.

That’s what I was trying to do, she grumbled to herself.

“At least I was psychic enough to grab your favorite booze on my way over.” Her best friend thumped a bottle of peach schnapps on the counter and petted the mane on her hoodie encouragingly.

She sighed resignedly. “See? You knew I was doomed to failure.”

“Oh, knock it off, Viola. Now, we're going to drink this together, and we're going to toast to Henry's inevitable STD.”

At this, Vi shot back up. “Kyun!”

Her friend just shrugged a shoulder along with an eyebrow as he rooted through the cabinet over the refrigerator and pulled out two shot glasses. Liquor sloshed in the cups as the smell of boozy peaches tickled their nostrils.

“Down the hatch, Flowers,” he instructed, and together, they tossed back their first shot.

The liquor burned a little though the sweetness dulled that quite a bit, and not a second later, Vi shoved the shot glass across for a refill. The second shot went down even easier than the first, and by the third, it was just like taking shots of juice except she could wallow less.

“In retrospect,” she said as she scrounged through her cupboard for something salty to snack on, “shy librarian was maybe the wrong way to approach a guy these days.”

Changkyun’s brow scrunched. “What’s wrong with a shy librarian?”

“Nothing. She’s just not the girl who catches the attention. We’re living in the era of Instagram models. A guy like you is not taking a girl like me home. I have to face that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he challenged, “and I resent it.”

“I love you, Kyun, and you can resent it all you want, but I have never seen you with a shy librarian on your arm.”

He scowled, but he couldn’t argue because facts were facts. “That’s not because I don’t find them attractive.”

“No, it’s because you assume they all want to tie you down. Sometimes we just want to get railed.”

Changkyun nearly spit his drink across the counter, but instead, he choked it down and finished out a coughing fit. Between wheezes, he managed, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m tired of being the cute girl that has to settle for vanilla sex in a long-term relationship. I’ve had plenty of that, and it was fine for a while, but maybe I want some meaningless hot sex, too. Why not? I’m single.”

“No, I know that, but—”

“See? I can tell from that ‘but’ that you would never expect a 'cute' girl like me to want something like that. Cute girls like fuzzy sweaters and stuffed animals and those teeny little pastries that you eat in one bite.”

“Okay, but you do like those things,” Changkyun reminded.

“Yeah, I know, but I also like sex, and I want more of it.”

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that my best friend since second grade, who once invited me to her My Little Pony party, oh, and made me wear matching onesie Christmas pajamas last year, wants a—” The bottom fell out in his voice and, despite his casual appearance and even more casual attitude to relationships, he whispered, “—fuck buddy?”

“Or a few one-night-stands. I’m not picky.”

Changkyun stared blankly across the counter. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“See? This is my point. No guy like you is going to even consider sleeping with me because you assume I’m going to bring the baggage of a relationship. Well, I want a break from that shit, too. This is where you come in.”

“Whoa, Viola, I know that—”

“Shut up for a second, would ya? I’m not trying to guilt you into sex, Kyun, but I do want your help.”

At this, her best friend cocked his head. “My help?”

She leaned across the counter and locked eyes with Changkyun. She could see his nerves in the hard press of his lips, but she knew he was the only guy she could trust with this, so she soldiered on, emboldened by a bad fucking day and good fucking alcohol. “You've done this a lot. This is your wheelhouse. Teach me, sempai. Show me how to be a hot girl.”

He sighed and rolled his head back. “Why do you want to be a quote-unquote hot girl, Viola? They're a dime a dozen.”

“Because hot girls get laid,” she said frankly.

Changkyun scoffed. “You’re not a virgin, and you’re hot as is.”

“You have to say that as my best friend, but also, you’re not trying to sleep with me. You and I are in two different leagues of attractive, Kyun. You’re made up of all kinds of sharp angles—you’re objectively hot. I’m a freaking circle. Don’t say it—don’t say it. I know I’m not ugly, okay, but the fact of the matter is I want to be less Shirley Temple and more Naomi Campbell. You can show me how! All you do is interact with people who ooze sexiness. So, just walk me through the things that clue you in that a girl just wants to sleep with you and we can move on.”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with this,” he admitted.

“Because you think I’m a hopeless case?”

“Because I think you’ll get hurt.”

Vi’s apartment had never felt so quiet. It was like a vacuum, where all sound and light had been siphoned away. She felt the irrational urge to cry, but she wasn’t exactly sure why, and she pulled her hoodie tightly over her head again.

Changkyun frowned apologetically. “I’m worried you’re only saying this because you’re a little drunk and a lot hurt already. That’s a bad recipe to start making new life choices.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil. It’s fine. Forget it. You don’t need to say anymore.”

But he refused to leave it at that. He laid his head on the counter so he was back in her sulky line-of-sight, and he smiled reassuringly. “I don’t think you’re a hopeless case, by the way. It’s just that you’re already so beautiful. You deserve more. I want more for you.”

“Okay, but you don’t get to make that decision for me, just like I can’t make you help me with this.”

Changkyun growled. “You're doing all this because of stupid Henry?”

“No!”

“Really? Because you’ve never said any of this stuff before today.”

Vi leapt up from her seat so she could lean back against the sink and stuff her arms across her chest. “Maybe I was embarrassed to, but after the humiliation I suffered this afternoon, I’m done caring about that. If everyone else can just go after what they want, why can’t I?”

“I get it. It’s just… What's so great about hot girls?”

“You tell me. You bed one a week.”

“‘Bed one?’” he laughed.

“You're only making my point. I’m hopeless without you, Kyun, see?” she whined. She darted back to the breakfast bar next to him as she sensed the first hint of caving.

“Viola, is this what you really want? Some guy who just sleeps with you and doesn't call you ever again?”

She ran her fingertip around the rim of her shot glass as she considered Changkyun’s words. “I know you think I’m just saying this because of today, but what do you think today was about in the first place? Yeah, maybe I had a crush on Henry first, and that’s probably the exact wrong way to start something casual, but it wasn’t like I wanted to marry the guy either. You know I've only done the committed thing. What’s so wrong with wanting to explore something new, especially when I see you having an endless good time?”

“It’s really not like that,” he asserted as he took another shot.

She waited for him to finish his thought, but, typical Changkyun, he held back the full breadth of his feelings, and even though Vi knew him better than anyone else, some days it felt like she only knew the tip of the iceberg.

“Yeah, I'm the guy you fuck, but I’m not the one you end up with. Just so we’re both clear, I know jack shit about love.”

“Exactly! You’re perfect. You know what guys like you are looking for. You can be my tutor and my wingman.”

“It’s just a little weird that I’m your best friend. My job has always been to keep you away from guys like me.”

“You’re doing a terrible job then, bestie,” she teased as she nudged his knuckles with her own.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, so for now, let’s just change our title to friends with benefits, okay?”

Changkyun rolled his eyes. “That’s not what that means.”

“I know. I’m trying to be clever.”

He stood up from the bar and waltzed into the living room, hands in his baggy jean pockets. Vi could tell from the way his iris tattoo flexed on his forearm that he was balling his fists, but at least he seemed to be taking her seriously. He paced behind the back of the couch before he leaned on it. His head whipped toward her as he said firmly, “If I do this, we need ground rules.”

“You got it, teach.”

Vi shucked off the Eeyore hoodie and tossed it on the counter as she raced into the kitchen and started rifling through her junk drawer.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting a pen and paper?”

Changkyun laughed. “Of course you are.”

“Hey, organization can be hot, too,” she objected. “And everybody likes a good listener, right?”

At this, her friend paused, stone still as he stared at her. Only when she waggled the pen at him did he blink and nod.

“You said I'm the expert,” Changkyun began, “so I expect you to listen to everything I have to say whether you want to hear it or not.”

Vi scrawled a quick note as she said, “You got it.”

“That means I go with you to clubs and bars when you want to meet guys so I can vet them.”

“Makes sense.”

“And if I don't get a good feeling about somebody you’re pursuing, you drop it instantly.”

“Fair enough.”

Changkyun cleared his throat to lift her attention from her notes. “Instantly, Viola. I mean it. I know how headstrong you can be when you think you're right, but I know the players and the game.”

“I know you do, and I’m not arguing, am I? See? Good listener.”

Again, he gave her a funny stare, and she felt that same sense that he was keeping things from her despite their current conversation.

But then he let out a breath and leaned forward, his hands falling to steady him on the back of the couch. “If you're uncomfortable with anything, you tell me. You don't have to do things just because you think it's what you think you should be doing.”

“I get how limits work, Kyun,” Vi said, a little annoyed, but he shook his head.

“I'm not just talking about bedroom stuff. If something doesn't feel like you, then I don't want you to do it.”

“I said okay…”

“I'm serious. Write it down. It’s the only way I'm agreeing to this.” Changkyun stared hard at her notepad until she finally got over her shock at his force and jotted his words down.

“I hear you, I hear you,” she grumbled.

“You trust me, right?” he asked with an intensity that Vi had rarely heard from him.

“Of course I trust you.”

There was a shift in the room now. Somehow, the temperature both seemed to plummet and soar at the same time, and Vi felt very disoriented. She was glad for the wall behind her or she might have tripped over nothing.

“Good. I want you to trust me enough to tell me absolutely everything,” said Changkyun. Despite how intimidating the man’s aura could be, right now, he was drawing her in closer and closer with those black hole eyes and bittersweet chocolatey voice. “I don't want you to be afraid to tell me all the things you want or like. You know me, I'm the last person in the world who would judge you, but that doesn’t mean it might not surprise me.”

“You mean like I already surprised you tonight?” Vi ribbed lightly.

“Yeah, but now that I know this is what you really want, I'm going to make sure you get it all.”

“Ah… Oh…” she fumbled and hoped she didn't give herself away at the unintentional innuendo. If she wanted him to take her seriously, she didn't want to look like a preteen in front of him. “Thanks, Kyunnie.”

He smirked. “You sure you want to give up your whole cute schtick? I’m pretty fond of it.”

“I mean, I don't have to give it up? I just want to shove it aside for a few hours while I get railed.”

That wiped the smirk right off his face. “How can I have known you my whole life and you still manage to have secrets?”

Vi shrugged. “Not going to lie, I kind of love the fact that my international man of mystery still thinks I can surprise him.”

Changkyun pressed his lips tightly and crossed his arms as he stared at her until sweat nearly started to bead at her brow. She had always trusted that he would help her, but the way he was examining her motives felt far too penetrating.

“We’re clear on the rules?” he said at last.

Vi nodded and showed them to him just to reiterate how seriously she was taking him. At this, he relaxed into his usual cool slouch.

“There’s one last thing,” he said.

She brought her pen up to the paper and waited eagerly.

“I don’t want this to come between our friendship.”

Instead of writing it down, Vi looked at Changkyun. He didn’t crack a smile or show even a hint of softness; he just met her gaze for gaze.

“Why would it?” she pressed.

“Things like sex usually do,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder.

“Yeah, but we’re not having sex…”

“I know.”

“So what are you worried about?” she asked.

“You,” replied Changkyun. “I’m always worried about you.”

Vi lowered her notes and came to sit beside her best friend on the back of the couch. Sincerely, she said, “And that’s why I knew I could trust you with this.”

“You can trust me with anything.”

“Because you’ll take care of me,” she finished with a smile.

“Because I’ll always take care of you.”

Changkyun’s words hung before he stood up, stuffed his hands back into his pockets, and headed back to the booze. He poured himself another shot and then one for her and brought it over. With glasses in hands, he raised his and said, “A toast to our unholy alliance.”

“To the new me,” she added. At this, he scowled, and Vi amended, “To a more adventurous me.”

“Better. I’ll drink to that.”

With another shot down, Vi felt the best she had all day. She let out a quick victory squeal before she announced, “I’m going to go get cozy real quick, then we'll dig in.”

“Already? You don't want to sleep on this first?”

“Carpe diem!” she called over her shoulder, and when she came back, she was cocooned in her favorite silk pajamas.

Vi crisscrossed her legs underneath her as she settled onto the sofa, notepad in her lap.

“Okay, since I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon, I’m going to grab the list I already came up with, and then the resident sex expert can chime in, ‘kay?”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better, I might think I’ve been played.”

“So, maybe I’ve been thinking about this for a while more than I let on, but since everything went to absolute hell on my own, I had to fess up. And lucky for me, I have the greatest guy in the world for a friend.”

“A better friend would talk you out of this,” he objected.

“No way. You’re supporting me and backing me up? Best friend in the galaxy.”

“You don’t need to keep buttering me up. I already said yes.”

“Nah, I’m being serious, Kyun. Thank you.”

He nodded and emptied the last drops in his glass before he sidled up behind her on the couch and leaned over her shoulder.

Notepad still out, this time on the coffee table, Vi flipped back a page and stared at the list she had been jotting down the past week whenever the thoughts had occurred to her.

Hot girls:

Don't wear underwear

Don't wear glasses unless they're sunglasses

Flaunt their assets (short dresses, body-hugging, glitter???)

Get manicures

“Should I get hair extensions?” she pondered as she studied the bullet points.

“Absolutely not,” Changkyun said firmly.

“All the babes on Instagram have them.”

He sighed. “Long hair doesn't automatically make you hot, nor does any of this insanity you insisted on writing down.”

But her friend’s words barely registered as she scrunched the tips of her curls idly. “I feel like my bob says school girl or Karen or probably, definitely, librarian, and we all know I’m sick of that fate, so maybe?”

“I love your hair on you.”

At this, Vi lowered her pen. “Are you saying that as Kyun my best friend or Kyun the lady killer?”

“I'm saying it as a man to a woman. Don't change it unless you genuinely want to change it.”

“Maybe I should just stop wearing it curly then? Too Shirley Temple. Maybe I should iron it or something.”

Changkyun fell into silence back as he munched on a bag of snacks he’d pilfered from her cupboard. He stared off into space while her brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

“You’re supposed to be helping me,” Vi complained.

“What do you want me to add? You’ve vetoed everything I’ve said so far.”

“Exactly. So what does that tell you?”

Her best friend shot her a stern glare as he said, “That you’re awesome exactly the way you are?”

“I don’t just want to be awesome, Kyun. I want to be hot. I’m just going by the girls I’ve seen you take home. Don’t even try and pretend I’m just making this stuff up either. I do have eyes, sir.” She waggled her list at him, but he didn’t say anything. “Come on! Give me one thing you look for in a girl you just want to sleep with.”

Changkyun pressed his lips together as he considered. After a moment, he said, “The way she looks at me.”

At his first helpful answer, Vi sat forward, elbows on her now-pajamaed knees. “Ooh, how’s that?”

“I guess it’s kind of hard to describe. Each girl has her own way of doing it, but it all translates the same.”

He left it at that, and she growled. “And? What way is that!”

“I don’t know,” he said through a crunch of a cracker. “Like she wants to fuck me.”

Vi choked a little at his frank words, and she thumped her chest with her fist hoping to dislodge the knot there.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she wheezed and held a few deep breaths to right herself. “Just wasn’t expecting you to say it like that.”

“Hey, if you want to try casual sex, you’re going to have to get used to being direct about it.”

“Hm,” Vi considered as the wheels in her brain began to spin again.

This time, she wrote down “Serve sexy eyes” on the page and then tapped the pen against her lips before she added “Talk dirty” underneath.

“You’re pulling your weight at last, Kyun,” she said triumphantly. “Give me one more thing, and I’ll stop twisting your arm.”

Changkyun sighed in relief. “Perfect. Then I’ll say dancing. I narrow down my options from the way she moves her body. That tells me all I need to know.”

“Sexy mating dance, got it,” Vi repeated as she wrote it down.

Her best friend let out an incredulous laugh. “This is going to go over like a lead balloon.”

“Hey!”

“You’re the one who said it like we’re some nature doc or something. Looks like it’s going to be harder to shed your librarian alter ego than you think.”

Vi launched up from the couch and leaned on the counter shoulder-to-shoulder with Changkyun. “That’s why my best friend is going to Cyrano De Bergerac me through it.”

“Nerd.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stow the literary references for after the sex. I suppose they could be a mood killer in this particular scenario. So, let’s say I give them the right bedroom eyes and do the mating dance and then add the sexy, flirty talk to seal the deal. Do I bring them back here then, or…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Changkyun. “Walk before you run, okay?”

Vi shrugged. “It’s just, wouldn’t it make sense to bring them here? I’m in between roommates anyway, so I have the place to myself, and it wouldn’t bother any—”

This time, his hands clapped against the counter, and it resounded in the tiny living room. “Viola, you’re not bringing a strange guy home to an empty place.”

“Huh… Yeah, I didn’t think about that. So his place?”

“Shit. Okay, you’re already in high gear, and we’re not even out of the garage yet.” Changkyun yanked the notepad toward him and grumbled tightly as he scrawled each word, “Hot girls stay alert.”

Vi popped an eyebrow as she echoed the sentence. “Yeah, I don’t know if that's really a thing.”

“Well, it's about to be this hot girl’s thing,” he insisted. “You need to think with your head and not—”

“Not my downstairs, got it.”

Changkyun chuckled in spite of the serious turn in their planning.

“What about after a couple of hookups?” she asked, but he sighed.

“Again, you need to slow down. I don't think you want to jump headfirst into a fuck buddy relationship.”

“Why not? What if the sex is really good and we want to keep going?”

Changkyun shook his head. “You catch feelings way too easily, Flowers. No. No way. The point is sex, not strings, right?”

“Yeah, but what if it really is just mind-blowing sex with no strings?”

“Look, you said you wanted to feel hot and have fun. I'm going to make sure that happens, but if you're looking for something more to come out of it, I can't help you. The guys we’re looking at aren't going to be the kind of guys that I want you to repeat. My goal is to get you laid, not break your heart.”

“Okay, okay,” she said as she added a new note.

Keep it simple.

Changkyun glanced at it and gave a subtle nod. “Good. That one’s going to be tough for you.”

“You’re so wrong about that,” Vi challenged.

“How’s that? Even your pajamas require a Masters degree to put on or, more importantly, take off.” He gestured toward her two-piece set, the collared top featuring a full row of buttons and the matching bottoms tied with a quaint bow.

“What do you sleep in then, hot shot?”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “I sleep naked. Doesn’t get much simpler than that.”

The image hung, and Vi could feel her whole body heating.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll get new jammies, too, if it’ll make you happy.”

“I’m teasing you, Viola. I’m happy so long as you’re happy, Fort Knox pajamas or not,” he added with a hooked grin.

“Moving on!” she sang. “Back to these girls you take home. They probably know a lot of cool tricks and stuff, huh?”

“First of all, we don’t always make it back to a bedroom. Depends on the moment. You’ll get a sense pretty quickly where the night is heading one way or another, so just trust that feeling. Second, they’re not really tricks. It’s just… stuff you pick up from trying new things. If you’re feeling it, you can try it. A man worth your time is going to be open to experiencing them with you. You can just ask, and if he’s a dick about any of it, you can leave. If he gives you shit, you let me know. I’m already on your speed dial.”

Vi didn’t say anything and his eyes narrowed.

“Right?” he pressed.

She laughed. “Of course. You’re my first. Just don’t tell my mom.”

Changkyun softened and nodded once. “Okay, good.”

She smiled gently at her best friend before she turned back to her list to add one last item.

Try new positions in new places

When she was done, she studied it a few times over as she switched to pacing the living room.

“Okay, so looking at this, my plan of attack should be: new wardrobe, makeover, dirty talk lessons, and you should probably show me this fancy mating dance you mentioned. Ooh, do you think I should read the Kama Sutra, too?”

Changkyun laughed even as his head dropped into his hands. “You are going into this exactly like I thought you would. How about we just do a little at a time to ease you into all of this because, otherwise, it’s going to feel like you took a dive headfirst into an empty pool. I want to build your confidence naturally, okay? We’ll do it together like I promised.”

Vi nodded and practically collapsed under the relief she felt. It was overwhelming. Her whole life, despite her careful planning, she had taken everything two steps at a time, like running up stairs, but she’d also wiped out more than a few times that way. At least with her best friend by her side, he could catch her.

“Why don't you go shopping first for some new clothes. Buy something that makes you feel good.”

“Cool, okay. That's actually a really good idea. You can tell me what guys will find hot.”

But Changkyun shook his head. “Take Nijah or Tara.”

“No, Kyun. Come on. Nijah knits her own turtlenecks, and Tara is an actual librarian. I adore them, but they're not the people I want to go to for hot girl fashion advice. You are.” He considered for a moment, and Vi didn’t want to miss out on her chance, so she added with a soft smile, “I know you won't just tell me what I want to hear, but I also know that you'll hype me up better than anyone else could. If you want me to build confidence, I need my best, most trusted friend in the whole world. Besides, didn’t you just say we’d do things together? Pretty please?”

She batted her eyelashes cartoonishly, and, with a roll of his eyes, he caved. “Fine.”

“Ha ha, I knew it. You can never say no to me when I beg,” she gloated.

Changkyun nodded once and dropped his eyes to his lap. “As long as it’s for you and not just these dumb guys.”

“Man, Kyun, if you ever decide to wife up, women everywhere will cry themselves to sleep. They broke the mold with you.”

“You keep this up, and I’m going to get a big head.”

“That’s just another way of saying you like it.” He said nothing, and Vi reveled in her little triumph. “So when can you go shopping with me? Tomorrow after work?”

“Wow, how hard up are you?” he laughed.

She sneered at him, but it was true. It had been months and months since she’d gotten laid and even longer since she’d had an orgasm that wasn’t of her own making; she hadn’t been exaggerating about the boring sex. Someday she would find the guy she could have as much fun with outside of the bedroom as in it, but for now, she needed to break the dam of frustration and self-doubt so she could clear her head enough to focus on the other things.

“The sooner the better, hot shot,” she retorted.

“I can do tomorrow.”

“Sweet! I’ll google some trendy places.”

“Of course you will.”

But as Vi scrolled through search results on her phone, her friend shuffled around her apartment. He stuck his head into the spare room and mumbled, “I would feel better about all of this if you picked a damn roommate already.”

“Yeah, I know, but the last girl I interviewed gave off that party animal vibe, and even if I am looking to loosen up, I’m not losing my deposit. I did really like the guy though, but he said he won’t know if he can move in for a couple more weeks.”

“What guy?”

“You know him. Minhyuk’s cousin.”

Changkyun scowled as he leaned in the bedroom frame. “Isn’t he a lot older?”

Vi shrugged. “Not really. Like, five years. At least it sounds like he has his life together, which is more than I can say, so I think I’ll just wait to see if he can do it. I can afford another month here alone.”

“Are you sure? It’s Vancouver. There’s got to be lots of people looking.”

“Oh, yeah, there are, but I’m not rooming with someone I don’t vibe with.”

“And you vibe with this guy?”

Vi nodded as she jotted down a few store names on her list. “Yeah, he’s about as chill a guy as I’ve ever met, and he gives off that safe, responsible vibe. That’s who you want to room with, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Come to think of it, he might be the perfect roommate for me then. He’s big and sturdy-looking. Maybe he’ll be my bouncer,” she laughed.

Changkyun did not join her.

“If you want, I can ask him to come back and hang with us? It’s probably good anyway that you vibe with him, too, considering how much you’re here.”

Her friend shrugged a shoulder. “That’s okay. You’re right, I already know him.”

“Okay, cool then. I’ll give him the greenlight if he’s down. Man, I’m feeling doubly productive now. Checking all the things off my list! The next time Henry sees me, he’s not going to know what hit him.”

At this, Changkyun’s brow furrowed. “We’re not doing this because of that dickweed.”

“No! No way,” Vi assured. “But there’s nothing wrong with seeing a guy regret ignoring me, right?”

“Mm,” was all her friend said.

“So we’re on for tomorrow?”

“We are.”

“You staying the night tonight?” she asked.

Changkyun’s eyes darted to the spare room, but when he looked back, they were uncharacteristically flat. “I’ve got practice early. My show’s in just a couple weeks, and we can only meet a few times between now and then.”

“Okay,” Vi said cheerfully over her shoulder as she reviewed her notes. “So, you just tell me when you’re free.”

He was quiet for so long that she had to turn around to be sure he hadn’t left, but he was still there, leaning against the wall and staring out the window.

“Kyun?”

His eyes shifted to hers, and that weird little light he had inside switched back on. “I’ll call you before lunch. We’ll figure it out.”

“Cool. Then I’ll take you to dinner after to say thanks.”

From behind the soft, Changkyun leaned over and kissed the crown of her head. “Sounds good. I’m taking the booze, so you can’t get any ideas.”

“I don’t need it now. I have you.”

“Always,” he assured. “Lock the door behind me, all right?”

“Hot girls stay alert!” Vi shouted with a thumbs up, and her friend left a moment later.

When she got up to lock the door as promised, she caught a shadow through the peephole. Changkyun was still there, waiting in the middle of the hallway, though as soon as the click of the deadbolt thundered, he disappeared.

Vi smiled. They really had broken the mold with him.