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#someone smart enough to treat her right and better than me so she can be treated the way she deserves
charliemwrites · 16 days
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I’ve been thinking about “mean” (okay no they’re mean) characters.
Specifically, I’m thinking about Rook “Duke” Alistair being best friends with Actual Assassin and meanest bastard around, Velikan.
They’ve known each other since her early days back in the Air Force. Maybe Duke, freshly nicknamed and bright-eyed, got caught up in some sort of ambush with a shiny new unit.
And maybe Velikan was going to kill her as collateral, but for reasons not even he knows, he didn’t.
And now he’s got this duckling (she’s even blond and fluffy like one) that’s practically imprinted on him. Every time they cross paths (and they keep crossing paths for some fucking reason) she lights up and waves, babbling updates about her life. She doesn’t mind his gruff tone or his short temper, or the absolute mauling she receives when he finally acquiesces to spar her.
It’s not that she doesn’t know he’s an assassin. Oblivious as she can be, she’s not stupid. Just the opposite, in fact. She recognizes that approaching him at any point is like sticking a hand in a tiger cage. And yet she still does it, even when they’re out in the field.
How she’s not dead yet, for pure annoyance alone, he’s not sure. But he figures that she’s spent so much time being an inconvenience to him specifically that he’s earned the right to put an end to her.
And then he’s not sure how she isn’t dead from natural selection.
“I thought you were military,” he hisses, brushing dirt off her shirt and pants. Why is he doing so? Because he’s annoyed that she slipped on pile of wet leaves.
“I am!”
“You have no discipline, no coordination, and no sense of self preservation.”
She beams. “I think that last thing is something they encourage, actually.”
He stuffs her into a good hideout and tells her to stay while he takes care of their his tail.
It’s not just the slipping, tripping, and falling. If anything would make him believe in luck, it’s Duke having the worst of it. Falling objects and loose floorboards, changes in a guard rotation or a light coming on at the worst moment. She’s smart and quick enough to watch out for herself, but only just.
Maybe he lets her live out of pure bafflement. Morbid fascination with someone so smart and yet so—
“Stupid,” he growls, dunking her head in the rain barrel.
She comes up sputtering, but giggling. “This isn’t how you’re supposed to treat acid exposure.”
He dunks her under again for good measure. She shakes off on him like a dog afterwards and he genuinely tries to strangle her. But then she gets her sharp little teeth in his arm and bites, proceeds to inform him that he’s going to need antibiotics with a bloody smile.
Is he going to personally bring about her violent, gory end? Yes.
Is she also his best friend? Somehow.
“Do you think cinnamon floss or mint floss is better for improvised stitches?”
“I think you should just bleed out.”
“It’s not for me, dummy…. Yet.”
He’s not relieved when she gets the position with the CIA, but something close to it.
They hire him for their dirty work often enough that he sees her regularly. Her ridiculous, cluttered desk and her grotesque stash of snacks and her constant rotation of injuries because they still let her near machinery.
“You stink,” he scoffs, lifting her right out of her chair as she squeals. “You are taking a shower.”
And because she has the attention span of a fly, he goes in with her. She fusses when he gets soap in her mouth or eyes, but he just tuts that it wouldn’t happen if she were capable of doing it herself. And dignity? Long forgotten as he scrubs her down from head to toe, pinching when she complains about being babied.
“Do not act like a child, then,” he gruffs, throwing a towel in her face.
Honestly, Laswell should be ashamed.
“When was the last time you ate?” He demands, squishing her cheeks with a little shake. “Eh? When was the last time you had something other than blue candy?”
“‘S raspberry.”
“Are raspberries blue? No. They teach this in school. All that sugar has rotted out your little brain.”
It turns out the answer to his food question was “too long.” He trades her potatoes for carrots, but only after holding her nose closed until he could force peas in her stubborn mouth.
Ridiculous, really.
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multi-level-shipper · 8 months
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This shit was a fucking acid trip, like most of the game.
Anyway, something that poked my brain was the Infirmary. For all this game's insanity, there were actually some decent roots planted for worldbuilding/ character development.
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It seems like the reason the cast ended up in Queen Bouncelia's domain is because they're treating the player as if they have 6 stars in GTA. Seline is no exception to this rule, and that seems to be her motivation for coming down to the lower floor, as she watched us leave in Chapter 3.
Toadster noted in his "Archives" that she was already hiding when brought in, and crying in her shell. She may have been antagonized by a bigger enemy- likely Kittysaurus or Tama/Chamataki (turtle chameleon thing), and she may have gone past the kingdom's walls for sanctuary. (That's just a loose theory, though.)
In any case, at some point she was frightened enough to shut down completely.
This could be some kind of anxiety attack, though there's no way to "diagnose" Seline at this point. Also interesting that Seline felt too afraid to even continue moving around on the lower floors. I think this is meant to speak to just how dangerous the lower floors are- if the giant ass snail is afraid, you should be, too.
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Next, Jumbo Josh. Toadster categorizes him as a "Green Gorilla", which in hindsight, weirdly makes a lot of sense.
Firstly, an adult silverback gorilla can bench up to 4,000 lbs (or at least, that's what google told me.) Not that we needed an explanation of why he was able to throw Stinger Flynn, but I can only assume that if we adjusted that number for his size...it probably checks out.
Second, the fact that he walks like a chiropractor's worst nightmare. It took me a second, but I FINALLY realized that his posture is meant to IMITATE A GORILLA. Like, look at this:
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DEFINITELY EXPLAINS WHY HE WALKS LIKE A HORSE IN GARRY'S MOD.
And thirdly, Josh's love for vegetables is also a gorilla trait. 85% of a gorilla's diet is leafy greens, with the remaining percentage basically amounting to termites and larvae.
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Not too much to say about the Fucked Up Birds, but still! Nice to see them finally displaying a flamingo behavior (AKA their sleeping posture) because they seemed to lean more heavily on ostrich behaviors in previous chapters.
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Toadster mentions in his archive for "The Teacher" that she keeps repeating the phrase "I can't be late" over and over to herself after being subdued.
He also notes that the bowling pins "calmed her down," which may not entirely be the case. In Chapter 3, in Banbaleena's "Classroom", each object had an assigned role like Cool Kid and Popular Kid. The bowling pins were meant to be the Bullies.
So Banbaleena is likely stuck in a prison of her own self-doubts right about now, which is doubly sad when considering her insistence in Chapter 3 that she was actually trying to be a good teacher. Either someone placed this idea in her head that she needs to strictly adhere to all these rules, or it's a stress she placed upon herself trying to fulfill her identity as a teacher.
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Stinger Flynn gets better as the story progresses. He seems to have an ego to the point where he sees himself as a savior that can't see the faults in his own plans. His initial "safest procedures" plan seemed so obvious to him, but it seems as if he measures success by efficiency rather than the cost of human lives. While he's smart, he's not immune to being wrong, though he has yet to learn this.
He also seems to suffer from some form of depression, or at least intense sadness, and we see this as he talks to Banban in the latest hallucination sequence. Makes sense- his intelligence would make him much more privy to all the horrible things happening around him. It seems as if his high intelligence comes at a high price.
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Last note- This might just be a case of recycling animations/rigs, but I think it's cute that Banban shares nearly the same emo pose as Banbaleena.
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atinylittlepain · 7 months
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Tougher Than the Rest
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
Hungry Hearts masterlist
wordcount | 5.5K
warnings | smut, angst, the usual
a/n | we have reached the last chapter of this story. thank you to everyone who has followed along with this one, it has truly been a treat working with these characters, so your love for them means a lot. as always i'd love to hear what you think, drop me a line!
...................................
“Ellie, school in thirty! You better be up if you’re catching the train! Sorry about that, my daughter is– well, you know how kids can be. What was the question again?” She hates these things. These fluffy little interviews that her agent forces her into whenever she has a new book coming out. Good publicity and all that. Bullshit, if you ask her. Why can’t the book just speak for itself?
“No worries at all, I was wondering if you could tell me a little about your writing process for this last book, did you have a set routine or any rituals that propelled your work forward?” Rituals, gag her. She tries not to let out a dejected sigh over the phone, settling instead for an eye roll as she attempts to get Ellie’s lunch put together with one and a half hands, her phone settled precariously between her cheek and her shoulder as she puts together a pb and j, except not because Ellie’s school has a thing about peanut butter. So, sunflower butter and organic apricot jam from the co-op down the block that she somehow got wrangled into as a member. 
“You know, I try not to be too precious about routines. I write as much as I can whenever I can. And as a mom, I have to take whatever time I can get.” The interviewer most certainly didn’t like that answer, a long right, okay crackling over the line. But what did he expect? Some sort of meticulous, meditative bullshit no doubt. Sorry, not her style. 
“So, last question here, you have certainly established yourself over the last decade as a prolific writer. What is it that keeps you writing?” Well, that’s simple, isn’t it? If she keeps writing, she keeps herself from thinking about the past, about things she shouldn’t be thinking about. But her agent would probably throttle her for saying that, so something else in its place instead.
“I always wanted to be a writer growing up. It’s just– instinct, maybe impulse, frankly. I write because it’s what I know how to do, it’s how I figure out this world.” She tacks on that last bit hoping it will make up for the entirely unsexy rest of her responses, and judging by the hmm the interviewer lets out over the phone, it will suffice. All the usual niceties and a long sigh when she finally hangs up.
“Ellie, if you aren’t up I’m–”
“Jesus, I’m up, woman.” Her eleven-year-old has developed a new habit of calling her woman like a despondent husband in a loveless marriage, marching out of her bedroom and into the kitchen as she shoves papers into her backpack. 
“Lunch for you, and I will be outside of the school at 3:30 to walk home with you, okay? Do you– I can walk with you this morning too if–” 
“No, mom, I got it.” It stings, just a little, smarting, and then a small swell of pride that her girl is so independent. 
“Okay, okay, let’s get some breakfast in you, huh? Smoothie, that sound good?” Ellie’s face scrunches up, but she doesn’t give her an abject no, and that’s enough for Cherry to get out the blender. 
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s in Texas?” Cherry freezes, her hand holding half a banana (non-GMO, whatever the fuck that means) suspended over the blender. 
“What– where’s that question coming from?” 
“On the computer last night, you had left it open to some construction company in Texas.” Shit, her smart girl. That was how Ellie found out that Santa wasn’t real two years ago, hopping on the desktop and finding the order confirmation for the pair of glow-in-the-dark Converse she had asked for in her letter addressed to the North Pole. 
“Oh, um, that– I have a friend who is, uh, moving there and I’m helping her find someone to do work on her new house, yeah.” Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that answer, brow pinched up, but before she can question it, Cherry flips on the blender, letting it whir just a little longer than it needs to. 
“Alright, breakfast of champions, you can drink it on the train, yeah? You’re gonna be late if you don’t get a move on.” A quick flurry to pour the smoothie into a to-go cup and then out the door, love you, be safe, bye. A big sigh when she slumps back against the shut door, close one.
Yes, maybe, a moment of weakness yesterday. A moment of weakness while she was working over edits for her next book. Somehow, up until yesterday, she had managed to not let a moment of weakness creep in. But before she knew what she was doing, she was googling his name and Austin, Texas. And there he was, with his own business no less.
Yes, maybe, she had left a tab open on the Miller’s Construction website’s About Us page. And yes, maybe, she had left the page zoomed in on the picture of Joel in the top corner. And yes, maybe, none of her edits had gotten done because she was a little busy looking at said picture for the better portion of the afternoon. 
So the first thing that she does after cleaning up the small cyclone in the kitchen is log onto the computer to delete that tab, not letting herself linger on the photo any longer. But he looks good, she thinks. Doing good for himself, she thinks. Not letting that thought get any bigger, that want crack open any more than it already has, right back to work on her edits. 
But her mind is fickle this morning, still stuck on that photo, still stuck on him in a way she hasn’t been in a while. Maybe it’s because of the appointment she has at noon. An impulsive choice she made and, for some reason, has kept. A way to hold onto something she should have let go a long time ago. But she can’t.
And yes, maybe, her morning is spent in a constant toggle between the open tab of her word doc, and that damn About Us page on the Miller’s Construction website.
He’s nervous. And he’s not sure why, because it’s her, right? It’s them. Except this is new. Not something they ever got to do in the past. Not like this at least. 
“Hey there.” She’s in a dress when she opens the door, and his mind has to quickly configure around the fact that this is the first time he has seen her in a dress in two decades, though he probably should have expected that, right? Because people dress up for these things, something that Sarah said to him very slowly like he was an invalid, prompting him into a button-down before he left. 
“Hey, Cherry, you look, uh, yeah– look real good.” She smiles, still leaning in the doorframe, but before she can speak, someone else beats her to it.
“Wow, real smooth, man.” 
“Ellie.” Cherry hisses it over her shoulder, but Joel never sees the kid, just hears her lowly murmured what? I’m just saying, geez. Already off to a great start. 
“Sorry about the peanut gallery, but I’m ready if you are.” 
No more sneaking around, no more questioning if this is real or not. They’re doing the thing that normal people do, normal people in a normal relationship. They’re going on a date. 
“I like this.” She hums it, reaching across the console from the passenger seat to thumb at the collar of his shirt, her palm smoothing down over his chest. 
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm, you clean up very pretty, Miller.” Just a little snark tinging the end of her words, making him huff as she keeps rubbing distracting circles into his chest. 
“Well, you’re in fine form, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” With that, her hand trails up, palm slipping behind the nape of his neck, her fingers threading through the errant curls there while he fights the urge for his eyes to roll back in his head. 
“Sure, Cher, at this rate we’re not even gonna make it to the restaurant.” He regrets saying it instantly, because just as soon as the words leave his mouth, she’s taking her hand away, sitting prim and perfect in the passenger seat where she had been completely turned toward him before. 
“Right, sorry, best behavior.” Her words slant with the simper of her smile, and he has to remind himself that they’re doing this normal thing now. No need to hurry, no need to hide, no need to steal time. Because she’s staying, and so is he. 
By some stroke of luck, they do make it to the restaurant, and it’s right about then that Joel realizes it has been a woefully long time since he has been on a date. He has to stutter himself into all the motions, trying to remember the right moves, opening the door for her, a bit flustered when he pulls her chair out for her and she snorts.
“Well you don’t get this kind of treatment in New York.” To make the matter of his quick creeping flush worse, she presses a kiss to his cheek before she sits down. He gets to have that now, totally normal. He’s still getting used to totally normal.
“So how is the book coming along?” He’s not sure if he’s allowed to ask that, what might still be a sore subject. For a moment, her face falls, fear flickering in his chest that he has fucked up, though she smooths it out, something like a smile still at the edges of her eyes.
“Do you really want to hear me talk about that?” 
“Only if you want to.”
“Can I ask you something first?” He nods, of course, taking a cursory sip of his wine as she does the same. 
“Did you– what did you think? About the other ones?” She asks it shy, her cheek propped in her hand, smile crumpled to one side. His mind reels with what he could say, though he’s not sure if any of it’s right. It’s not like he has some dazzlingly intellectual thing to say. But she’s asking him, she wants to know what he thinks, and he muses to himself that she’s been wanting to know what he thinks for a while. 
“I was amazed by every single one, Cher. And I was proud of you too, even though I had no business feeling that way. It was– I thought about you, a lot, over the years. And getting to read your books, it felt like I could be a little closer to you that way.” He surprises himself with the stark honesty of his words, but how could he offer her anything else when she’s looking at him like that? Smile softening in the dim light of the restaurant, cheeks brimming up with the praise.  
“I always wondered, you know, if you were reading them. I– I guess that’s a little ridiculous.” He’s still getting used to this too, being able to reach out for her, taking her hand in his across the table.
“Not ridiculous, and I’m looking forward to reading the new one.” 
“I sent the second draft in two days ago.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm, my editor fucking destroyed my first one, so we’ll see how this draft goes over.” 
“You know, I’ve been wondering, Cher, when the hell did you get that trucker’s mouth of yours?” She laughs big and bright, shoulders shrugging up to her ears, a little flail to her hands that makes him laugh too.
“I mean, it’s definitely a New York thing. That, and people just started pissing me off a lot more, so I kinda had to.” 
“I tried to cut back on it when Sarah got old enough to start picking stuff up. She still managed to slip a few fucks into her vocabulary in the first grade.” 
“Oh god, I actually got called into the school when Ellie was in the first grade because she told a boy at recess to leave her the fuck alone. Honestly, I was more proud than anything else, is that bad?” 
“Fuck no, it’s not bad. I’d probably take Sarah for ice cream if she did the same.” She sighs around a smile, and he finds himself doing the same, settling into this ease. Yes, he thinks, it’s going to take some getting used to. But he’s more than happy to be getting used to it with her.
“I’d like to get it on my right shoulder, if that works okay.” If her mother could see her now. She doesn’t look in the mirror until the tattoo artist has stamped the stencil into place, a satisfied hum in her throat when she gets a look at the design. 
Frankly, she wasn’t sure if she was going to keep this appointment. She had made it under the pleasant flush of two glasses of wine late one night about a month ago, surprised to receive an email from the artist saying that they loved her idea and wanted to get her on the books. And for some reason, she didn’t say no, didn’t cancel, and is now laying out on a tattoo table and bracing for the first pass of the needle. 
It’s not too bad, a little cringey when the artist is working right over the cap of her shoulder, but otherwise it passes quickly, and before she knows it, she’s standing back in front of the mirror on shaky legs, looking at the twining cherry branch now wrapping around her upper arm. 
“It’s perfect, thank you. I love it.” Ellie has rather different feelings about it, her jaw dropping loose when Cherry meets her outside of her school, still warm enough that she’s only in a t-shirt, showing off part of her still-wrapped ink. 
“What is that?” There’s no playing it off, Ellie refusing to move until Cherry gives her an answer.
“That is a tattoo, and before you ask, no, not until you’re eighteen.” Ellie balks at that, though Cherry is quick to sling her arm around her girl’s shoulders to set them both walking toward the subway. 
“Is it– what is it?” Ellie takes the one leftover seat in the train and Cherry hooks her elbow around the rail in front of her, a perfect opportunity for her kid to get a better look at her new tattoo.
“It’s a cherry tree.”
“I can’t believe you got a tattoo.” She says it with a sigh, like somehow, this is the worst news ever. Cherry has to hold back a laugh, knowing that it will only put Ellie in even worse of a tiff. 
“What’s wrong with tattoos?” 
“Nothing, but you’re my mom, you’re not supposed to get tattoos.” Ellie grumbles out the last words, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff, perfectly petulant. Cherry gives her little episode about twenty more minutes before she forgets all about it and asks what’s for dinner. 
When they do get back to their apartment, Cherry just barely catches the ringing phone, surprised, though pleasantly, when she hears Will on the other end. 
“Hey, what’s going on? Everything okay?” 
“Hey, yeah, I just thought I’d give you a call.” She knows exactly what that means. It’s only been recently that she and Will can talk like this, call like this. She got out, and he did too, and for a while that had to be enough for the both of them, slinking around the past like they could somehow forget it. It was Will that reached out to her first, and she was relieved for it, not sure if he resented her, or even hated her for the way she left. He didn’t, he understood, and he wanted to know how his big sister was doing. 
“Mom?” He sighs over the phone, exactly what she thought. For some reason, their mother still reaches out to him, an errant phone call that he somehow can’t seem to dodge. 
“She called to tell me that they’re moving to Arizona.”
“Oh, lovely.”
“Yeah, so I guess that means Austin has finally been fumigated.” Cherry snorts, trying to let that be funny, though all it really feels is bitter. 
“You’re not thinking about going back, are you?” Because suddenly, she is. An impossibility for so long, now a little more possible.
“Hell no, Portland has been good to me. I only just managed to lose the accent.” 
“I liked your accent, Will. I’m afraid mine has started sounding a little too Brooklyn lately.”
“Yeah, you have that kinda eternally angry thing going on in your voice now.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know that my eternally angry voice is what gets me book deals.” 
“Sure, that’s what it is, miss New York Times bestseller.” She scoffs, a flustered murmur of yeah, yeah, whatever, always quick to change the subject from anything like that. 
“You’re still coming for Christmas though, right? I’d– we’d really love to have you. I’ve been telling Ellie about you.” Something new, she never thought Ellie would get any kind of extended family. Definitely no grandparents, but an uncle would be nice.
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” He has something else to say, she can tell by the way his words fizzle out. She doesn’t push though, just waits.
“You don’t think about going back, do you? To Texas?” Her throat tightens, a quick glance down the hall to check that Ellie’s bedroom door is still closed.
“No, why would I want to?”
“Oh come on, out of the two of us I’d say you’d have an actual reason to.”
“What are you talking about?” Like maybe she could bullshit her way out of this, but he is her brother, after all. He always liked Joel, definitely looked up to him. And he was also one of the only people that knew about their relationship, always willing to cover for her sneaking around, for the flat rate price of a new comic book. 
“Not what, who.”
“Will, that’s ancient history. That’s– that’s even past ancient history. It was another life.”
“I know, I just– I always thought you two were gonna be it, you know? Even before that summer, y’all were always something else.”
“Careful, they’ll throw you out of Portland for saying y’all like that.” That gets half a laugh out of him, just enough to drop the subject.
“All this talk of Texas must be getting to me. Anyways, just wanted to call and tell you the big news or whatever.” 
“Alright, well, big news aside, it’s always good to hear from you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” 
“Yeah, sis, love you.”
“Love you too.” That’s new, she’s glad for it.
Afternoons, after school, but before dinner, this is her favorite time. Sometimes, Ellie will still let her help with her homework, or at least allow her presence on the edge of her bed while she works, might even answer a few questions about her day or her friends. Eleven going on thirty, or something like that. By the time dinner rolls around, her girl has warmed up to her enough to sit at the kitchen counter while she chops vegetables.
“So, why a cherry tree?” 
“Oh, it’s an old story, a friend of mine from a long time ago, not interesting. Hey, I saw the email from the school about career day next week, were you gonna tell me about that?” A quick change of subject, two birds with one stone, really. Ellie’s face scrunches up at her question.
“Yeah, but like, you’re too busy for it anyways.” She barely looks up from her math worksheet as she says it, like no big deal, though Cherry’s stomach immediately sinks.
“Woah, woah, babe, I am absolutely not too busy for that. I’m never too busy for you, what– why do you think that?” Ellie just shrugs, still intent on her fractions.
“Because of the new book and stuff. You’re very preoccupied.” One of her new vocab words for the week, preoccupied, right. 
“Els, will you look at me, please? I am never too busy for you, okay? None of that shi–stuff matters more than you do. And I’d really love to go to career day, if you want me to be there.” Ellie seems to consider that proposition, a big burst of relief when she nods.
“Yeah, you’re cooler than a lot of the other parents anyways. They all do boring stuff for work.” She’ll take it, trying to temper her grin at her girl’s small praise as she gets back to prepping dinner. She’ll have to remember to wear long sleeves for career day, not wanting to give the PTA moms any more gossip fodder than they already have about her. Single mom, single writer mom with no family to be heard of. Not a very good look to all those upper-crust types, not that she could give a shit about it. But she doesn’t want her black sheepness to rub off on Ellie, play dates and hang outs to be scheduled and all that, so, definitely long sleeves for career day. 
Much later, Ellie in bed reading, and no impending emails or phone calls, Cherry finally takes another look at the tattoo before getting in the shower. 
If nothing else, ever, at least this.
“So.” She says it all long and drawn out, her hands clasped behind her back as she sways a little in front of his truck, sooooo. It’s dark out by the time they leave the restaurant, both of them a little loose, a little languid from a few glasses of wine, though he’s still sober enough to feel a lick of nerves run up his spine as he tries to figure out what’s the right next move, what normal people do on a date like this. 
“Sarah is at Tommy’s for the night, if you don’t have to be home just yet?” No, probably not what normal people do on a first date. But no, not their first date either, not really. And nothing normal about this either, not really. Cherry, smiles, all crooked shadows in the faint glow coming from the restaurant. She really is a sight. He’s been stealing sweeping glances all night, collecting her up in pieces in his mind. The bare skin of her thighs, just a suggestion of it with the slip of her dress. Her dress, he thinks she knows that it’s just a little cruel that she’s wearing that dress judging by the way she moves, shoulders rolled back, always a ghost of a grin like she’s getting away with something. Instinct or just plain impulse to reach out for her, to let his knuckles graze along the neckline of her dress, the smallest shiver when he trails from the sweet plunge up along the slope of her shoulder. 
“Ellie was going to a sleepover, so I don’t have to be anywhere until my chauffeur services are needed tomorrow.” 
“Yeah?”
“Mmhmm.” 
He is trying, all of his effort, really, to focus on the road when they start driving back to his house. But Cherry isn’t exactly making it easy with the way her hand is splayed on his thigh, and he has to clear his throat when her nails graze along the inseam of his pants. 
“Everything alright?” He only glances away for a beat, though it’s enough time to see the smug curl of her smile.
“You– you’re–” His breath hitches before he can finish that thought, Cherry’s knuckles grazing against his already aching cock through his pants, though her hand is gone just as soon, settling lower, just above his knee. 
“What am I, baby?” 
“I think you know what you are.” Her laugh comes in bells, chirping high as she tips her head back, the shock-white flash of her teeth in the corner of his eye. 
“I think you like it.” High, like wings fluttering each word she says. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes still on the road while he reaches across the console for her, his palm slipping from her shoulder up the slope of her neck, fingers curling around her nape and his thumb stroking the hinge of her jaw, his own silent answer, his. 
They’re both quiet stepping inside his house, lights off so the rooms are washed down in dark swaths of shadow. Up the stairs and into his room, she doesn’t look at the books this time, all her attention on him. 
No need to rush, no need to hide, no need to lie about what this really is. A first for two decades later, they can take their time with each other, because there will be plenty more of it to offer, to receive.
“I thought about you, you know.” He knows that she’s talking about a particular kind of thinking about him, her eyes heavy with it. 
“Show me, Cher.” Broken thoughts that somehow still get pieced together, the easy slip of her dress falling around her feet, stepping out of fabric and laying back on his bed. Perfect like this, her knees bent and falling open to the sides. He finds himself sitting down on the edge of the bed, his palm cupping the slope of her calf before sliding down, fingers curling loosely around her ankle. Something to tether him, to convince him that this is real, that all her want is for him. From the start, she was always surprising him, always finding some fresh way to make his head spin. She still is. Propped up on one elbow, her other palm trailing down the center of her chest, pausing there to let her fingers graze against her nipple, the smallest hitch of her breath making his cock pulse. And then lower, his eyes going heavy watching her hand move over the soft clench of her stomach before settling just over her pelvis. Forefinger and middle spreading herself open for him to see, swollen and pearling pleasure, obscene and a little world-ending. 
And it’s his name. His name that she whispers when she dips two of her fingers into her cunt, his hand curling a little closer around her ankle at the sight and sound. A slick smear of heat, the way the tendons in her hips jump with the effort of staying splayed for him, slack and then tense all over when the pads of her fingers catch against her clit. 
Please, not enough, please, want you. But he wants to see, her preening pleas falling on deaf ears. Because he wants to see how she thought about him all those miles away, years away, and aching for him. And he was aching for her too. Go on, Cher, just like that. She huffs, brow pulling down in a pinch of frustration, but she still allows, the small jump of her wrist, the veins in her hand jittering as two fingers find a stuttered rhythm, her hips tilting into each thrust. And he’s mean for doing this, cruel even, slipping sorry beneath his palm as it skates up her shin, smoothing and soothing. I know, I know, it’s not enough, is it? Never enough he thinks, it was never enough. 
“Stop teasing, come here.” Never saying no to her, and he already knows it, making as quick work as he can of the buttons of his shirt, the warm flush of bare skin against bare skin when he finally settles between her legs, one palm splayed next to her temple and the other bunched in the sheets beside her hip. All brilliant machinery, two bodies moving together like they never stopped, her knee hitching up along his hip as his palm slides down along the soft skin of the inside of her thigh. He rests his thumb over her clit, presence more than anything else, though Cherry doesn’t allow that for long, another huff, another don’t tease that he chases after with a hard stamp of a kiss. 
And when he finally spreads her open with one shuddering snap of his hips, his breath gets caught in his chest, pleasure finally catching up to him and crackling down his spine. His mouth rests open and wanting below the dip of her clavicle, the slight press of skin that comes with each of her inhales, like a bird beating around in her ribs, short and stuttered and certain. 
Quiet whispers, need you to move, baby, that word never failing to snare his mind, all he can do to give her what she wants with a slow roll of his hips that’s already turning greedy in the way he grinds into the plush of her ass at the end, a high sound stopping itself in the back of her throat. 
And no, not taking their time, both of them growing desperate for that tight furl of pleasure settling between them. Just a little obscene in the way the bed scrapes against the floor with every thrust, the sound melding and mixing with the breathy little moans Cherry can’t seem to stop, not that he would want her to. He groans when he reaches between them to thumb at her clit, her cunt dripping around him, a dizzying flutter of heat that he wants more of. And when Cherry says more, right there something snaps in him, animal, incessant in the way he slips his palms under the swell of her ass, lifting her hips up so her thighs rest over his, fucking up into her from his haunches, strong enough that he can do that now, move and make her with his hands like this. Pulled taut, her body one long line of pleasure, he watches the perfect tendons in her throat jump with a whine of his name. 
It’s a devastating heat when she does come, spine arching before she slumps down in his grasp. He stills inside her, a whimper in her throat when his hips absent-mindedly shift against hers. C’mere, c’mere, pulling him down, her palms running up his sides before slipping over his shoulders, mapping him out as she catches her breath.
“I love you so much, Joel.” The sound he makes is pathetic at best, a little broken battering in his ribs. And he should ask if she’s good, if he can, if it’s okay for him to, but he needs it so bad, needs her so bad that he’s already finding that rhythm again, harsh breaths with each thrust. Not far behind her, not with the way she’s murmuring all her want into his ear, something that sounds like love when that pleasure finally snaps and shimmers under his skin. 
Perfect like this in the after, holding onto each other, mouths finding whatever slip of skin they can, kissing it better. 
“It’s you and me, Cher. I love you.” Her fingers still in their gentle sweep through his hair, a little tug to get his eyes up to hers. 
“Plus two.” Confused at first, he has to laugh when his brain catches up to what she’s saying.
“Right, you and me, plus two.” 
Her least favorite time of the day, or night, really. Ellie asleep, just her and the blinking cursor in her word document. It’s about this time every night that it settles back in under her skin. She doesn’t know what to call it. Loneliness feels pitiful, and patently untrue because she has her girl, and that’s all she needs. It’s like an ache, like a physical lack that she manages to forget about in all the fret and fuss of the day, still there, still sore. 
Tonight, something particular to soothe that ache. That damn web page, and that damn photo of him. Different, older, but still him. A small part of her, a young part, wonders if he has read her books, if he’s seen her photo on the dust jackets and traced all the small nicks and nips of time the same way that she does now, her face pressed close to the screen of her computer to collect up any new detail. 
She quits while she’s ahead, sigh, shut the whole thing off, rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes to try to stamp out the picture of him. 
An ache, a want, that has been there for nearly two decades. When Will had told her about their parents moving out of Austin, hope had been quick to flicker up and around her ribs, a silly thing. Silly to ache like this, to want like this, to presume that he’s been waiting around for her. 
She’s been waiting for him though, she realizes. Wanting for him. So would it be so crazy to think that, maybe, he’s been wanting for her too?
........................................
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neroushalvaus · 7 months
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No wait let me talk some more about Bridget Jones and how despite all of it's faults I think it's a positive movie for women in general and fat women in particular
So yeah, Renée Zellweger is not fat. While I think we should not forget that she was still body-shamed in media for the slight weight she put on for the movies, she was never fat or even "chubby". It is obviously a problem that in the first two movies she is constantly treated as fat when she never was. But even thought I do not like it, that is how it is. And in the Bridget Jones cinematic universe, Bridget Jones is seen as fat. As someone who is not desirable, who is embarrassing to date and who should constantly feel ridiculous for daring to exist in the world.
And you know, when you grow up fat, you learn that you need to compensate for the crime of being too big. Especially when you are seen as a woman. You need to be smart as a whip, and funny and entertaining to be around, and talented in so many ways, and you may never be clumsy because when a fat girl falls down, the first reaction is not "are you okay", it's laughter. And you may not have standards. If a guy likes you, consider yourself lucky. You can't be too loud or annoying because you already take up too much space. When it comes to looks, you must excel at femininity. You must wear make-up and have a beautiful face and lovely eyes and you have to wear clothes that compliment your body, that draw the attention to your breasts and hips. You must always be ready to be sexualized because that is the closest thing you can get to having your body accepted.
And then there is Bridget Jones. She drinks too much, she smokes too much, she talks too much and I love her with every fiber of my being. Look at how they dress her in the first two movies. Look how they style her hair. The clothes are often ill-fitting, the hair is messy and flat. When she goes to parties, she tries so hard to look good but never looks like a typical romcom lead. She is reaching towards femininity and falling face first into mud. She is crass and has a weird sense of humour and she always says the wrong thing in every situation.
But she is sincere. She is loved by her friends, she is desired by several men (and one woman) and she is allowed to have standards. The first movie's plotline with Daniel Cleaver is so good in this regard. Daniel sends Bridget sexual texts, sleeps with her, never says he loves her and then he cheats on her. Do we laugh at how silly Bridget was to get her hopes up when she thought this guy played by Hugh Grant could like her when he never said he did and obviously only wanted sex? No. We focus on how hurt Bridget is. And I love the scene where Bridget is with her friends and Mark Darcy when Cleaver comes to apologize. He comes through her door and seems surprised she's not alone, waiting for him. It is her birthday. Of course she is with her friends. Who you would know exist if you cared about her life at all, Daniel. And you know, then he apologizes and doesn't wait for Bridget's response, he just assumes she takes him back. Because how could she possibly do better? And after Daniel and Mark have their legendary fight for Bridget's affections and Bridget tells Mark to piss off, Daniel just assumes this means Bridget has chosen him. Because a woman like Bridget needs to have someone to make her feel less like a waste of space, right? Which makes it delicious when Bridget counters Daniel's pathetic little love confession "If I can't make it with you then I can't make it with anyone" with "That's not a good enough offer for me". She is still looking for something more extraordinary than that.
And she gets it!! I can not stress this enough! She is seen as a fat woman who isn't brilliantly smart, isn't polite or suave, is clumsy and crass and socially awkward, and can't cook anything but blue soup and marmalade and is a hot mess express in general, and the archetypical romantic hero, literal Mr Darcy falls in love with her just as she is. Bridget never needs to become smarter or less awkward or less clumsy, she is loved and treasured just as she is. That is why I have loved her for twenty years.
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boxofbonesfic · 1 year
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Title: Blender
Pairing: Dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader
Summary: Lee has a rather creative solution for his new pet’s disobedience. 
Warnings: Noncon, Kidnapping, Implied Obsessive Behavior, Human Trafficking, Smut, Public Sex, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do not eat, Minors DNI!
A/N: so remember when I asked you all who was on the other side of the blindfold? well, here’s the result. 😈 please mind the warnings and tags, and enjoy! divider by @firefly-graphics​
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You’re blindfolded. You’ve been that way for hours, harsh ropes biting into the bruised flesh around your wrists. Your saliva soaks into the rag in your mouth, thick enough to hold your jaw open uncomfortably. The sound of a door opening makes you snap to attention, and though you can’t see through the ratty cloth over your eyes, the light from the hallway filters through the fabric, blinding you further.
 Heavy footsteps creak across the old floor, and you hear the creak of leather soles as their owner stops in front of you. 
 “She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?” He drawls, and you flinch as he grabs your chin, tilting your head this way and that. “I think thirty is a fine price.” Rough fingers tug at the knotted cloth at the back of your skull, and you whine, wincing at the sudden brightness. The speaker is no more than a hazy figure hidden by floating spots as your eyes adjust to the buzzing florescent lighting flooding in from the hallway. “Pretty eyes, too, don’t you think?” He says over his shoulder. “Can’t wait to make you cry.”
 He’s tall, and a little stocky. Older, but not unattractive, with short dark hair and slate blue eyes. The mid-country drawl is as unfamiliar as your surroundings, but you know better than to ask who he is, where you are—your face still smarts from the last question you asked. The man licks his plump lips as he stares at you, his grin lewd, like he can see the shape of your body through the oversized button up someone had thrown at you to wear. 
 Behind him, the blond man in the hallway snorts. “Pretty? A pretty big handful, if you ask me.” He steps into the room, smoothing his fingers over his thick mustache. “Just so we’re clear, you know I’m not finished with her, right? She’s not trained.” 
 “Yeah, Hansen, I got you.” He draws his thumb over your bottom lip. “If I wanted you to break her, I would’ve waited six months.” He leans forward to pull the gag out of your mouth. You shudder, listening to them speak about you like an animal. Not even an animal—a thing. His eyes focus on yours. “You feel like gettin’ out of here, honey?”
 Out there is better than in here—in here with the other man, with Hansen. You’re not soon likely to forget the way he’s treated you. The days have been uncountable, but it wasn’t that long ago that you were living a different life. One where you weren’t forced to silently endure your captor’s fingers slipping where they shouldn’t during every humiliating sponge-bath. Slowly, you nod. 
 “Good.” He looks over his shoulder impatiently. “Key, Lloyd.” 
 “Money firs, Lee.” 
 Lee scowls. He stands, unzipping the front of his thick leather jacket. There’s a bullet proof vest underneath it. He reaches into an inner pocket, and produces a bound stack of bills. Lee turns, and tosses it to Lloyd who catches it easily. 
 “Count it. S’all there.” Lloyd squints at Lee, and then the money. 
 “I’m going to take it on good faith this time—mainly because I’ve got somewhere to be.” More like someone else to sell. You’ve heard the crying through the walls—the screaming too. You know you’re not the only one Lloyd’s dragged in off the street for this. He grins saucily, and it makes your stomach turn. “You two kids have fun.” Lloyd rummages around in his pockets, and then makes a triumphant noise low in his throat as he produces a single key on a flimsy looking ring from his pockets. He flings it at Lee, who catches it with a snort. 
 Lloyd turns sharply on his heel and disappears beyond the doorway while Lee squats back down with a grunt, and reaches for the chain around your ankle. He tugs you up to your feet, and you feel your cheeks warm as his eyes rove down over your thighs. The ratty plaid button up on your shoulders is the only item of clothing you own now.
 He looks you over, clucking his tongue with a distinctly pleased air. “Lloyd always does do good work, I hafta say.” You shy away as he reaches for the collar of your shirt, and he frowns. “None of that, now. We’re gettin’ to know one another properly.” He draws his thumb over the swollen bruise still marring your right cheek. Lee inspects you, walking in a full circle around you, still holding the bit of rope wound tightly around your wrists.
 When it seems he’s satisfied, he hums, wrapping the rope around his hand a few times for security. You’ve walked these hallways many times, but the sight of them is still new to you as you stumble behind Lee. The house is large but also largely empty, and you wonder where the other girls are, if they have people coming for them too. 
 Outside, the sun is almost blindingly bright, and you realize it’s been weeks since you’ve seen it—maybe months. Gravel crunches under the soles of Lee’s shoes as he leads you towards the parked police cruiser in the under-maintained driveway. All at once, you dig your heels in, pulling backward on the rope and catching him by surprise. He grunts as the rope slips through his fingers, hanging in the air between the two of you for a moment before you yank back on it again. You ignore the pain of the loose stones biting into your bare feet as you turn, looking for a way out. The long, tree lined drive is too open, but if you can make it into the dense undergrowth—
 You run. 
 Your step is unsteady, your thighs already burning from disuse. Lee is cursing behind you, and you can hear the thunderous sound of his footfall closing in—
 The breath goes out of you as he slams into you, and you finally cry out in pain as he forces you to the ground. Your cheek presses painfully into the gravel as Lee pants above you. He lets out a raspy laugh. 
 “You are a little fuckin’ handful, aren’t ya, Honey?” He fists a hand in your hair, forcing your face harder into the dirt. “I wanna treat ya like a lady, Sugar, but you’re gonna hafta earn it.” He gets up off of you, pulling you up with him. You yelp at the pain as he pulls you back toward the cruiser. He yanks open the back door and tosses you in like a rag doll. 
 “N-no, I-I don’t—” Words of protest form on your lips and die as Lee wrestles you underneath him. You’re smaller than he is, underfed and exhausted too, it doesn’t take much for him to best you. He shushes your shrill complaints with that low, disgustingly patient drawl. 
 “See Honey, this is why I didn’t want Lloyd goin’ to work on ya,” he grunts as he forces himself between your thighs. The door behind your head is locked, but you pull frantically at the handle anyway. Lee chuckles dryly, wrapping the rope still tied around your wrists about the headrest, forcing your arms above your head. You gasp as he cups your bare cunt.
 “Don’t need him to get you to behave.” Your stomach rolls as he spreads your lips apart, circling your clit with the pad of his finger. “Got my own way of makin’ sure you get the picture.” You squirm, trying to buck him off of you, but it’s like trying to lift the car for all the good it does you. Lee clucks his tongue at you. 
 “We coulda’ waited and done this in a bed, but this is a lesson you need ta learn, Honey.” You buck, trying to work him off of you, and Lee grunts, frowning. “Come on, now. Bein’ difficult ain’t gonna help nothin’.” He circles your hopefully swelling clit with shocking gentleness. “Lloyd told me all about you, Honey,” he draws out the words while he strokes you. “And you were so lonely, baby. Parents didn’t give a fuck about you, did they?” His voice is both piteous and taunting. 
 It was true that your family kept at a distance, unsatisfied with your choice to pursue an education rather than a husband. Lee raises his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean of you. 
 “Sweet.” He presses his face into your cunt, suckling your clit as his fingers prod at your entrance. You wail, thighs tightening uselessly around his head as he whips you up into a frenzy. You don’t want to claim the firestorm of heady pleasure building up in your belly, but you don’t have a choice as it claims you. Lee hums with pleasure as you convulse, tears streaming from the corners of your eyes as you stare blindly up at the roof of the squad car. 
 “Ooh, that was good, wasn’t it?” He licks at you again, and you squeal, your oversensitive cunt throbbing. “I think you can gimme another one, can’t you Honey?” 
 “N-no, no—” You huff through your teeth, whining as he pulls another orgasm from your struggling frame. Your toes curl as white hot pleasure unfurls in your belly. You lay there, panting and sweaty, watching as Lee leans up out of the car, standing up to his full height. Your lower lip trembles as he undoes his belt, fingers making quick work of the buttons and zipper. 
 “N-not here, p-please,” you plead, fresh tears bubbling up over your eyelids and streaming freely down your cheeks and chin. 
 “Aht, aht, Honey. You stop them crocodile tears, now.” He admonishes you as he pulls the thick, veiny length of his cock from his pants. “Only makes me harder.” Lee palms his cock in his hand, pumping his fist up and down the shaft with a groan. There’s a sticky bead of precum at the tip, and he smears it across the reddened head of his cock with the pad of his thumb. You try to scoot up and away from him across the back-seat as he ducks back into the car. You can’t get far, though, the door is locked on the other side, and your hands are still bound to the headrest above you. 
 Lee’s eyes are unfathomably dark and hungry as he drinks in the sight of you, a low whistle of appreciation leaving his lips. Your breath catches uncomfortably in your chest as he slaps his cock against your clit wetly, and your body jerks from the sharpness of the sensation.
 “L-Lee,” you mumble his name, your lips salty with tears. “Please.” 
 “Look atcha, Honey,” he praises, ignoring your murmured plea as he begins to press inside. Lee hisses with pleasure as the head of his cock slips into your pussy with an audible, wet pop. “Manners are already gettin’ better.” You gurgle unintelligibly, eyes wide as he stretches you open. You want to focus on your rage, on your humiliation, your fear, but your body doesn’t let you, fresh slick leaking out to coat his invading length. Lee’s head lolls back, his eyes rolling shut as he sinks in slow, like he’s savoring every single inch. 
 As Lee finishes sheathing his cock into the throbbing, sticky mess of your cunt, you wonder dimly how there’s even space for all of it inside you. Your pussy sucks at him without your permission as he begins to pull out, a pathetic mewling noise leaking out of you at the sensation of his retreat. Dimly, you’re aware of the car rocking and squeaking beneath you as Lee lays into you. 
 It’s not supposed to feel good, Lee using your body like it belongs to him, like he owns it. Maybe he does, you think dizzily, pleasure eating away at the edges of your convictions. 
 “You gonna cum for me again?” His voice is like black honey in your ears. You shake your head desperately, whining as he fills you. Lee chuckles. “S’alright, Sweetheart,” he coos. “You can be a good girl n’ cum for Daddy.” You gurgle as he reaches down to pinch and pull at your nipples, rolling them between calloused fingers. Gritting your teeth against the tide of pleasure, your thighs tighten around Lee’s hips as it comes crashing down over you. 
 It washes away every conscious thought as Lee drags you over the edge and into bliss, your nails digging into the headrest as you wail. Lee’s praising you, telling you how good you’ll be when he’s done with you, how sweet and perfect your cunt is—but you’re not hearing it, not really. Not over the rush of blood buzzing in your ears, or through the pleasurable fog that’s settled over your thoughts. 
 “Shit, Honey,” Lee pants, his thick fingers digging into your bare hip. “If I woulda known you’d feel this good on my cock, I’d have had Hansen get you sooner.” You don’t really have the bandwidth to consider his words before he’s driving into you full force, his cock spearing you open. He grits his teeth, baring them with a growl. 
 “M’gonna keep this pretty pussy nice and full,” he rasps as he ruts against you. His heavy thrusts punch the air from your lungs, and set your already dizzy head spinning further. “Want you drippin’ with me.”  You sob and mewl as you come apart on his cock, your walls milking at him until his hips still. Lee holds you tightly against him, and you can feel each deep pulse as he spills into you with a long, low groan. He stays like that for a while, his cock lodged inside of you as his cum begins to trickle out around his shaft.
 You know you’re a mess when he pulls away, licking his lips appreciatively. Lee tucks himself back into his pants with a sigh. You watch, your lip trembling as you try to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatens to fall. 
 The sound of applause makes you cringe, trying unsuccessfully to curl in on yourself as Lee chuckles, his gaze resting on someone behind the car, someone you can’t see. 
 “And here I thought she’d give you trouble,” Lloyd replies, ducking his head under the frame of the car’s back door. He grins at you lasciviously, and you squirm, trying to cover yourself with the tattered remains of your shirt. 
 “No trouble.” Lee answers, removing the leather jacket from his shoulders and draping it over your body. He shoots you a crooked grin that sends ice straight into your veins.  
“We got us an understandin’. Don’t we, Honey?” 
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Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library​​ for updates and new work, thank you!
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justmeinadaze · 9 months
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We're A Family Part 15 (Steddie X You)
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Warnings With Some Notes: Dads Steddie and Mama Reader, Stevie gets yelled at by parents during a parent/teacher conference that Y/N overhears (the dad refers to her as a whore and slut a few times through out the story), these three do talk about having another baby which leads Steve to talking about his worry of people in the town, Daisy's dad causes a scene in their house, SMUT (spanking and slight overstimulation), fluff, and angst.
Dylan and Y/N talk about him and Ro not being planned. The men in the Munson-Harrington household all struggle with personal demons that are mentioned through out this story. They have grown though and know no matter what they can handle anything together <3.
Word Count: 5788
“What? Why are you looking at me that way?”
Kierra sighs as she shrugs before leaning back in the booth across from yours. “Y/N, you know I’m always on your side. No matter what. You’re my sister, my best friend, and I love the hell out of you. That being said…”, her eyes look up to meet your slightly annoyed ones. “I think what Steve is feeling is fair.”
You fold your arms as you pout while she continues. 
“Come on. It’s not like he’s ever hid from you that he wanted more kids. You three had always talked about having another baby using his stuff, ya know? And of course, he’s thinking about it now because Aurora’s not technically a baby anymore. Dylan will be starting high school soon. His asshole father and our evil mother are always reminding him that biologically the kids aren’t his.”
“So this will fix that?!”
“Y/N…”
“And if we go by that logic we technically aren’t married. They remind him of that to. What, maybe, he needs an actual wife now.”
“Well, now you’re being ridiculous.”
“Don’t do that, Kierra. Don’t treat me like I’m mom!”
“That’s not what I’m doing and I know you know that.” You both exhaled as you took a long sip from the drink in your glass. “Y/N, he’s not…commanding…you to give him a kid right now. It sounds like he just wants to have a conversation about it. At least give Steve and Eddie that.”
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
She grins as she lightly kicks your leg under the table. “No worries. You know I still love you.”
***
“Hey, mom. What are you doing here?”, Dylan asked as you walked up to the school. 
“Steve asked Ed to come get you because he has a meeting after school but he already had plans so alas, you get me.” He grins as you hand him your keys. “Go wait in the car and I’ll be right there, okay?”
You smile as you watch him run out the door before heading to Steve’s classroom. 
“…and I’m not going sit here and be lectured by some deviant!”
The sound of someone yelling caused you to pause just outside his door.
“I’m not lecturing you, Mr. Osborne. I’m just trying to convey that your daughter seems to struggle a lot more with the material than others in class. She’s very smart. She just needs some extra help.”
“Oh, and are YOU going to pay for that, Mr. Harrington?! Especially since I know for a fact she doesn’t need any ‘extra help’. Maybe if you would focus on being a better teacher instead of that whore and freak maybe my child would be better educated.”
A chair rolled back as you heard Steve exhale angrily. “I think we’re done here.”
“Um, what about…Daisy’s grade.”, a woman asked.
There was a long pause before he finally answered. “Mrs. Osborne, she’s passing but not enough to get into those AP classes next year. If you and your husband insist on not finding a tutor or something that can help her…there’s not much more that I can do.”
“Maybe it’s time we talk to the principal.”, Mr. Osborne sneered.
“Maybe it is. I can give you his number and we can set up another meeting.”
The man mutters things under his breath as Mrs. Osborne offers a small thank you to Steve. Both parents exit the classroom coming face to face with you. 
“Oh. Hey, Y/N. I…we…didn’t know you were, um, here.” You watch with angry eyes as her husband stalks past you down the hallway and out of sight. “Daisy had fun with Dylan at the dance. He sent me some pictures. They are so cute together!”
You subtly nod before crossing your arms. “Lori, did you know my son helps your daughter with her homework sometimes?” She blinks in your direction before shaking her head. “There are times when she comes over after school and they study together. Of course, they can’t do it all the time; Dylan having baseball and Daisy in gymnastics but… Those times he is able to help her? She gets a higher grade.”
“Steve’s right. She’s a smart kid. It’s just she seems to struggle to retain the information especially when she’s anxious. I wonder why that is.”
“LORI ANNE! Are you coming or not?!”, Mr. Osborne shouts down the hallway. 
You shrug as you lean against the wall behind you. “But what would I know? I’m just the whore married to the freak and deviant.”
As soon as the sound of her heels disappear, Steve casually comes to lean in the doorway. 
“That was good. Maybe you should be a teacher.”
“Naw. That was just my counseling degree you saw at work there. Dealt with a lot of parents like Daisy’s I’m afraid.” You glance in his direction taking note of how exhausted he looks. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m alright. What about you?”
“I’ve been better.” Steve immediately looks you over with concern. It’s one of the many things you love about them both; their concern and protectiveness of you. You imagined it took all his strength to not punch Daisy’s dad in the face for calling you and Eddie names. 
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I was thinking that, maybe, the three of us could talk tonight about…you know.”
He sighed as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. “We don’t have to. I mean, not much point if you can’t even say the word baby.”
“Steve, I’m trying here.”
“Yeah, I understand. It’s really fine, Y/N. Like I tried to tell you before. It’s just something I was thinking about. If you’re not ready it’s fine. We can wait. Look, I still have a couple of things to do before I can leave so…I’ll just see you back at home, alright.”
Before you can answer, he turns away from you and heads for his desk.
###########
“Ok, princess, let’s see what we get here.” Eddie rolls his D & D dice as Aurora sits at the little table Wayne made for her in her size while she picks at the snack on her plate.
“17. Alright.” He leans forward and grabs a note card from the vocabulary set Steve bought to help teach her words. It was the metalhead’s idea to put a spin on it, allowing him to grab a card at random. “What’s this?”
“Puppy!”
“Good job, my angel.” He rolls again and grabs the corresponding card. 
“Girl.” Ro points to the image and then herself. “Rara girl.”
“Yes ma’am, you are.”
“Beep, beep.”, she mimics absently before taking a bite of her snack. 
“Who’s that?”
She grins as Dylan comes around and ruffles her hair. “Din bra-der.”
“Is Dylan a boy or a girl?”
“Big boy.”
“Way to go, Ro. Mom, I’m going to go upstairs till dinner.”
You nod before coming to sit on the floor beside them and Eddie bends towards you to give you a kiss. 
“Ew, daddy!”
“Hey, ew you, kid.”, he smiles as he gives you another peck. “Are you alright, baby?”
“Daisy’s parents were giving Steve hell when I showed up.”
“Sounds about right. I’ve never liked Nathan. He kind of reminds me of my father.”
“Yeah…I told Steve I thought the three of us should talk about the other night…”
“You mean when you freaked out about the idea of having another kid?” He laughed when you shot him a playful glare. “Honestly, sweetheart, not much point if you can’t even say the word.”
“I swear to God! Are you two on the same frequency or something??”
“Usually.”, he smiles. “I’m always open for a conversation.”
***
“Hey, weirdo.” You grin at him as he steps outside and sits beside you on the steps of the back porch. “How’s Daisy?”
“She’s…she’s ok. Upset but ok. She said her parents have been fighting all night.”
“I’m sorry, baby. You know she’s welcome over here anytime if she needs an escape.”
“How are you, mom?”
“I’m okay.” He raises his eyebrow at you making you laugh. “What?! I really am.”
“Liar.”
“Fine! Ya little pain in the butt.” Your smile slightly fades as you talk to him. “Steve wants to have another kid.”
“And you don’t?”
“I don’t know, weirdo. I mean, we all just got settled into this routine, we see each other a lot more than before. We’d have to move because I’m not going to make either of you share a room with a screaming baby.”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“I know YOU wouldn’t but I would.” You quickly sneak a glance at your son before looking out into the yard. “How would you feel about another little one running around?”
“I think it would be cool. I was an only child for a while there so I wouldn’t mind more siblings in the house.” His concerned eyes shift over your frame, debating on if he should continue. “Ro and I were accidents, right?”
His question startled you as you turned to fully face your son. “No, Dylan. You and Aurora weren’t planned but you definitely were NOT accidents.”
“Yeah, no, I get that. I just… imagine how different it would be for you and our dads to plan one this time. You get to be excited for once instead of scared.”
“Dylan Marshall Y/L/N—”
“Ah.”, he cuts you off with a cute little smile. “It’s Munson-Harrington now. You have to scold me properly.”
You smirk as you narrow your eyes at him in jest. “Dylan Marshall Munson-Harrington.”
“There you go!”
You both laugh as you pull him into your arms. “Baby, I was ecstatic when I found out I was pregnant with you. Seriously. I fell in love with you the moment I saw your little blob on the ultrasound; you and Aurora.”
“We love you to, mom.”
“Don’t ever let me hear you say that you were an accident. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As you both reentered the house, Eddie was patting Ro’s back as she slept on his shoulder sucking her thumb while Steve stood at the sink washing the dishes from dinner. Dylan bid them a quick good night before heading up to his room.
Sighing, you drunk in the vision of the man in your kitchen. He still looked extremely exhausted but more than anything he seemed sad. Your sister was right, it was fair for him to be feeling what he was feeling and he never once tried to push you on the idea of having more children. When you three found out about Aurora, at first he reacted negatively but he more than made up for it, there for you 24/7 throughout your pregnancy and after she was born. No questions asked. 
Steve had been the same with Dylan all those years ago. Anything your son needed he offered a helping hand where he could and genuinely enjoyed being there for you both. 
He probably wasn’t even going to present you with that “Baby #3” note until you yourself brought up being ready to have another baby. Steve just wanted to be prepared when the time came up. Yet you reacted out of panic, like he was saying it’s either this or nothing. You immediately shut him down and out instead of just talking to him about how he felt.
He deserved more than that; they both did. 
Eddie watched as you crossed the living room and headed towards the other man’s side. He turned off the water, reaching for a dishtowel to dry his hands before finally turning to look at you. Steve exhaled heavily and you abruptly wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest. His strong hands held you tighter to his as he rested his cheek on the top of your head.
#############
“I heard Nathan Osborne gave you the third degree today.” Eddie grinned in Steve’s direction from his place on the floor as he strummed his guitar absently. 
“I wouldn’t say ‘third degree’ but he was definitely an asshole.” Steve, who was doing crunches, fully sat up to wrap his arms around his knees. “Said I need to focus more on teaching than being a deviant with my whore and my freak.”
“Wow. Rude. I don’t belong to you. I’m my own freak.” Eddie jokingly sized him up making the other man laugh.
You grinned to yourself in the bathroom as you listened to them talk. You loved hearing them speak to each other when they thought you weren’t listening. It had gradually gotten flirtier as the years passed as they got more comfortable with crossing that friend boundary and entering lovers. Sometimes you wondered if at some point they would have gotten there on their own if they hadn’t met you. You imagined so with that energy they had always had between them. 
“How hard was it for you not to punch him?”
“Pfft, God. You have no idea.” Steve tipped back down onto the carpet and continued his set. “Y/N verbally gave them something to think about though.”
“Ooo, baby! You badass. Comin’ out swinging with that sassy attitude.”
Turning off the bathroom light, you smiled as you came to sit on the floor beside them. 
“Just Lori. Nathan pushed past me before I could say anything. Dylan says they’ve been fighting all night so, I don’t know, maybe she finally told him something.”
“I hate that for Daisy. She can always come over if she needs to.”, Eddie smiled as he reached to move your hair to the side. “What are you thinking about, babe?”
“Dylan asked me if he and his sister were accidents.” Steve sat up again as the metalhead fully moved his guitar to the side. “I’ve genuinely never thought about it before…that neither of the kids were planned. I don’t know how that translates to me basically having a panic attack at the thought of having another but…”, you laugh as they flash you a smile. “Steve, I’m sorry.”
“I mean, no reason to be sorry, honey. I meant what I said. If you aren’t ready, we can wait. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me because I know our parents put you through hell because Dylan and Ro aren’t biologically yours—”
“Hey now. No. We aren’t going down that road. Those two kids out there are OURS, mine and Eddie’s. I don’t give a fuck that they aren’t ‘pure Harrington’s’ or whatever bullshit my dad wants to spout around town. I don’t want you to agree to have another baby just because you feel like you owe me something. I’m not going to lie, Y/N, I’m really fucking tired of having this conversation.”
“Steve…”
“No, Munson. I mean we adopted Dylan, both kids have our names. What more do I need to do to prove to you that I see them as my children to? IS it me? 
“I have never once doubted that you love those kids. I just feel like it hurts you to be reminded.”
“Yeah…but not in the way you think. It hurts me that there are people out there who are going to tell them the same thing and it will hurt them. It hurts me that ignorant people like our parents and the Osbornes will never be able to understand that I would die to protect those kids. If I could shield them from all this bullshit, I would. Those are the kind of things I worry about when THAT particular topic of conversation comes up.”
“How about this?”, Eddie interjects. “How about we start slow? One stressful situation at a time. Maybe we can start looking into bigger houses and see if we can even afford that. If we can’t there’s no point in even having the baby talk.”
“How big are we talkin’?”
“Well, Harrington, your parent’s house has like a billion bedrooms. How much do they pay?”
“First off, calm down, it’s 5 bedrooms. Second, they bought that house in like the 80s. Houses were a lot cheaper back then.”
“They also live on an expensive side of town.”, you add before softly smiling to yourself. “I always wanted to build my own house.”
“Like…with your two hands or?”
“No, you goof.”, you giggle as you lightly reach out to kick Eddie with your foot. “Like design it and have it built. When we were growing up, my dad used to say that was something he wanted but his idea was more extravagant. ‘We’ll have the bowling alley here and the theater there.’” You glance towards Steve as he grins at your comment before crawling over to climb into his lap. 
***
“What about this one?”, you asked Steve as you both sat at the kitchen table looking up houses online. Dylan and Daisy were across from you two working on an assignment for another class. 
Eddie was feeding Ro as she sat on the countertop, kicking her legs with a big smile on her face. 
“I like it. This is only four bedrooms though. I thought you wanted another so Ed can have a man cave for his guitars.”
“Oh, sure. Blame me like you won’t be keeping things in there as well.”
“That’s fair.”, you giggle. “I like it because it’s kind of out near the countryside of Hawkins. Away from people… Plus we would be a little closer to Wayne.”
“And further away from your mom and my dad?”, Steve whispers as his fingers caress your arm as you nod. 
“This area still isn’t far from the school or Ed’s shop—”
Pounding on the front door startled everyone causing both men to immediately shift into protective mode. Steve headed towards the sound, sighing aggressively as he peered through the peephole. 
“Kids, upstairs now. You to baby. Don’t argue with me.”, he warned as your mouth opened to protest. Dylan and Daisy head up the stairs as you take Ro from Eddie and follow them. 
“Mr. Osborne, how can I help you?”
“Where is my daughter?! I don’t want her in this house anymore.”
“She’s studying with Dylan. Your wife dropped her off a few hours ago—”
“I don’t care! She’s MY daughter to and I don’t her exposed to you people.” The man barged passed Steve to search the house shouting her name.
You wrapped your arms around Daisy as she stood there staring out into the hallway towards the stairs and began to cry. 
“It’s ok, sweetheart. They won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”
“Ah, hello Nathan.”, Eddie sarcastically greets him from his spot at the bottom of the staircase. The man tries to push past him but the metalhead successfully blocks his path with his arm. “See, I’m not the teacher and you’re in my house where my kids are so I have absolutely no problem knocking you out if you try that again.”
“I want my daughter NOW.”
“Mr. Osborne, I need you to calm down. I’m not going to let her leave with you if you continue behaving this way.”
“You’re not going to LET her, Mr. Harrington.”, he laughs. 
“That’s correct especially if she doesn’t feel safe leaving with you.”
“Daisy is safer with me than with you freaks. I don’t give a fuck what my wife says…the last thing I need is my daughter thinking being a whore is ok.”
Eddie took long strides forward but Steve quickly came between them as he glared at the other man. 
“You’ve barged into my house uninvited smelling like alcohol and insulted my wife. I’m asking you nicely one more time to leave or else I will call Hopper.”
“Daisy, honey, wait…”
The girl stepped out of the room and forward so her dad could see her, you quickly following to grab her arm. 
“Daisy! Get down here right now! We are going home.”
“Daisy, if you don’t feel safe you can stay here till we get a hold of your mom.”
“It’s ok, Mr. Harrington. I’ll be ok.”
You watch with sad eyes as his shoulders deflate. They glare at each other as she grabs her things and heads towards the front door. 
“You keep that boy away from my kid or else—”
“Or else what?” Steve stepped forward till he was hovering just above the other man’s face. “Finish that sentence, Nathan. Please. Threaten my son so I can finally knock you on your ass.”
Mr. Osborne scoffed before abruptly turning and grabbing his daughter before heading out the door. As both men turned to glance up the stairs, they find you sitting on the top step with your arm around Dylan as you both gaze back with sympathy. Aurora is sitting between her brother’s legs one step below him as she plays with her fingers.
This is their family. Eddie and Steve both grew up with a Nathan Osborne in their house. He was a good reminder of where they had come from and how far they had come. Both men started out alone until they found each other. It was just the two of them for so long till they found you and Dylan before Ro came along. 
“You ok, kid?”, Steve asked.
“Yeah… I just hate she has to go back home to that. Are you guys okay?”
“Well, won’t make it on my top 10 Saturday evenings but…” Eddie grinned as you three laugh. 
“Grrrr.”, Ro growls as she points to the door.
“Excuse me, who are you trying scare, honey?!”
Aurora crawls down slowly on her butt before reaching up so Steve can lift her in his arms. “Boy…grrrrr. Gashhhhhh. Gashhhhhh.”
Dylan cackles at his sister’s sound effects. “She’s making Darth Vader noises.” He mimics her sounds more clearly and she claps at his understanding. “She’s essentially saying Daisy’s dad is mean.”
“Look at you. Kid is the baby translator.”, the man smiles as she giggles and bonks her head against his. 
############
“Let’s do it.”
After putting the kids to bed, you climbed onto Steve’s lap on the couch interrupting the show he and Eddie were watching.
“What’s happening now?”
“Let’s try for another baby.”
The metalhead turns off the tv as they both turn to look at you. “Sweetheart, if you aren’t ready—”
“No, no. I mean, after looking at houses and us going over things…seeing how you two are…” Your fingers come up to caress the man’s cheek. “I watched you two defend us…not just us but Daisy to. It just reminded me that no matter what happens we’re safe with you. We’re in this together. We can make it all work.” Steve pressed his forehead to your own. “I’m sorry for panicking and snapping at you before.”
“No reason to, honey. I get it. We’ll just take it one day at a time, okay? It’s going to take a couple of weeks for the birth control to stop working right? We can use that time to look at some of the houses we found. After today…I like the idea of being out in the country.”
“I wouldn’t mind being closer to Wayne.”, Eddie admits. “So, what a minute. If we’re doing this the fun way…that means I can’t cum inside of you for a while?”
You giggle as you lean into Steve’s neck. “Yup. Sorry, baby.”
He flashes you a wicked grin as he promptly stands up and reaches down to throw you over his shoulder. “Well, I better fill you up as much as I can beforehand. Come on, Steven.”
The other man didn’t need to be told; he was already following you both up the stairs. You smile as he tosses you onto the bed and promptly climbs on top of you, clinging his lips to your neck. As quickly as he could, Eddie tore off his clothes and yanked down your pants, bringing your panties with them. 
“What’s your rush?”, you laugh at him as he lifts you further up the mattress and positions himself between your legs.
“I’m just dying to feel you, princess.” His body leans over yours as he rubs the tip of his length through your folds making you moan. “Can I? Can I feel my cock inside of you, baby?”
“You know you don’t have to ask.”
Eddie smiles as his lips gently press against yours. “I know. I just like hearing you say it.”
Your fingers run through his hair before taking hold of his shoulders. “Yes, Eddie. I want to feel you inside of me.”
The man bit his bottom lip as his head hung and he pushed himself into your entrance. You searched for Steve, finding him off to the side, already naked, and stroking his cock to the sight before him. After motioning for him to come closer, he crawled onto the bed beside your head, and reached down to lift off your shirt. 
As soon as you were free of its confinement, you reached for him, making him groan when you guided his cock into your awaiting mouth.  
Eddie pushed up on his knees, lifting your legs further around his waist as he thrust into you. With half-lidded eyes, he watched as Steve’s own beautiful orbs fluttered closed as his jaw went slack. His palm tenderly caressed your cheek before sliding down to your bouncing tits as he kneaded and played with your nipples. 
The metalhead aggressively reached for the back of the boy’s neck, tugging his lips to his own. As they kissed, Eddie’s pace slowed as he pumped into you hard and deep.
“Oh…oh my God. F-fuck.”, you mewled.
Steve moaned loudly, his kisses becoming sloppy as he held the other man’s face tightly against his own. You repositioned your head so you could suck on his balls while you stroked him with your hand. 
“Fuck me!” Eddie rapidly covered his mouth but he shook his head, pushing it away as he leaned his forehead against his husband’s. “Fuck, that feels so fucking good.”, he whispers.
Steve licks the tips of his fingers and brings them down to your clit, rubbing in fast circles as Eddie tries to match his pace. You try keeping any part of your mouth on him that you can but you struggle as you hurtle towards your climax.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Y-yes, Eddie, baby, please.”
His head collapsed lazily against Steve’s shoulder as he rolled his hips into yours, your body shaking as you came, him following after as your pussy clenches around him. 
As you try to come down from your high, you notice them exchange a glance with a knowing smile and before you can say anything, the metalhead’s arms are wrapping around you, and flipping you over till you’re on top of him.
“Whatcha doin’?”, you giggle as he smiles, wiping some of the sweat that had accumulated on your face.
“I did say I wanted to fill you up as much as I could beforehand.”
“Ed…”
His eyebrows coyly raise in your direction. “What? You don’t think you can make me cum again?”
“I didn’t say that.” Eddie pushed up on his hands and you looked behind you when you felt a hand touch your body. Steve winked as he pushed you forward slightly making you grin when your nose grazed the mans underneath you. “I just… don’t want to hurt you. I know how sensitive you both are after you cum.”
To prove your point, you gently lift your hips, gliding your pussy along his cock and his eyes close as he hisses at the stimulation. After licking his lips, he craned his neck, bringing his lips to yours.  
“I don’t mind a little pain.” With his knees placed on either of the Eddie’s legs, Steve gripped one of your shoulders while using his other to guide himself into your ass. “If anyone can make me cum more than once this quickly, it’d be you sweetheart.”
Your arms cling to his neck as you begin bouncing and pushing back between them. The man behind you meets each of your moves with a thrust of his own and you promptly see stars. 
“Steve…just-just like that. You both always—fuck—always feel…” You struggle to finish your sentence, words leaving your brain as you gaze down at Eddie’s face. 
His eyes are squeezed shut as he murmurs through gritted teeth. Steve sees it to as he reaches over you caress the man’s lip with his thumb. As you lean forward to hear him better, his arms move causing him to fall flat on the mattress as he grips your hips. You and the other boy adjust more on your knees making you groan as both men push deeper into you. 
“Ed? Are you okay, babe?” He nods as he grumbles something you can’t hear. “I-I can’t hear you, sweethea—oh!” Eddie startles you as his palm comes down hard on your ass.
“Hard-er.”, he growls but not in an aggressive way. His tone is rough but it’s dripping with a need you’ve never heard from him before. That mixed with him spanking you had your cunt constricting around him tighter and he moaned at the feeling.
You did as he commanded, grinding your hips as hard as you could against the two of them, bending down to balance on your own arms for more leverage. The man underneath you spanked you again except this time you felt Steve’s cock twitch inside you as he grunted. 
“D-do it again. I think—mmm—I think Stevie likes watching you spank me.”
Without saying a word, he did again and the other boy tugged at your bicep, pulling you flat against his chest. You yelped as Eddie’s thumb flicked against your nub and you were grateful when Steve covered your mouth as you whimpered loudly behind his palm. 
You couldn’t hold back anymore as you came causing the metalhead to release a strained fuck as you spasmed around his cock. They both chased their highs, Steve coming first as his face pressed into your shoulder and grunted as he came inside you. 
Eddie followed soon after, filling your pussy for the second time. The man behind you carefully pulled out but as you tried to do the same the other boy clung to your hips. 
“Baby, I…I love the enthusiasm but…you can’t go again.”, you panted as you grinned. “Not right now.”
A small smirk painted his lips as his eyes remained closed. “I’m…kind of embarrassed to say but…I need you to wait a minute, princess.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’ve just never tried that before. Usually, we take a break if we go a few rounds. I, uh, it hurts a little.”
“I told you.”, you sing. 
“Are you ok? It’s okay if we sit for a minute, right?”
“Of course. Did you enjoy it?”
“Did I enjoy making love to you till I can barely move after? Yes, sweetheart, I’d say I did.”, he laughs. 
“Did you like what he did?”
Eddie exasperatedly giggled harder as he placed his hand over his heart. “Jesus Steven. You were so fucking quiet I forgot you were here.”
“Yeah, that joke never gets old.”
“Hey, I’m a dad. I’m allowed to make jokes like that now.”
“Did I like what?”, you ask.
“Him spanking you. I don’t think we’ve ever done that before.”
“Hm, handcuffs and spanking. We’re becoming regular BDSM heathens.”, Eddie jokes as Steve rolls his eyes. 
“Can she answer a question, please?”, he teased.
“I don’t know. Baby, give it a try.”
When you lightly hit his chest, he captures your hand with his own and holds it to him. 
“I did. I think you liked it more though.”, you softly smile as you use your other hand to caress his chin. 
“I like anything you two do together.”, his head dips slightly as he fidgets with his fingers. Your smiles grows, realizing that’s most likely why Aurora does it. “Not just sexually either. At the school, I was watching you two dance and I just got this sense of pride, you know? You’re both funny, sexy, sarcastic, strong… like what are you doing with me?”, he chuckles under his breath. 
“May I move now?” Eddie nods, gripping your hips as your both hiss and wince at the feeling. You crawl towards Steve and without hesitation he pulls you into his arms. “This is the second time this weekend someone I love has said something that just blows my mind. What are we doing with you? Baby… what would we do without you? Ow!” You both look down to see the metalhead cleaning between your legs. “Excuse you. Can I finish being all romantic and junk?”
“I’m not stopping you.”, he chuckles. “Plus, it’s a good distraction for me so I don’t smack him on the back of the head. ‘What are you doing with me’ he asks.” Eddie shakes his head as he tosses the rag towards the hamper in the corner of the room.
“You can’t talk cause you’re the same way! I know sometimes you wonder.”
“Not with you two. Not anymore.”, he smiles as he jumps back into bed. “I DO sit back at times and wonder what these kids are doing calling ME dad.”
“Ok, we need to have a family discussion because the men in the house are saying things…”
“Oh, calm down.”, Steve grins. “You worry and think about things you shouldn’t be either. We literally just had an argument about it yesterday!”
“I’m a mom. I just want everyone to be happy.”
Eddie reaches behind him and turns off the lamp before wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “I’ve never been happier. I love you both and those kids. I can’t wait to meet this new one whenever he comes.”
“He? I’m not even pregnant yet and we’re already taking guesses.”, you giggle. 
Steve’s arm slings over you both as his other slides above your heads. Your palm reaches behind him, lightly rubbing his back like you know he likes. 
“I think we’re going to have a boy to.”
Your eyes start to become heavy as you feel the blanket fall over your skin. “Hmm… you’ll have to think of name.”
A laugh escapes his throat at the thought. “I came up with Aurora. I think Eddie should come up with the baby’s name.” The metalhead’s steady breathing told you both he was already knocked out. “Honey?”
“Hm?”
Steve places a tender kiss on your forehead as he feels your fingers behind him gradually stop moving. 
“I’ve never been happier either.”
##############
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charliee · 1 year
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Relaxing moment with Kylian Mbappé
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Sorry, english is not my first language but i promise to improve it.
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It wasn't that y/n didn't like her current job. On the contrary, having a routine and a purpose for leaving the house every day was what made her feel independent. But this same routine that made her feel useful also sucked all her energy and disposition to enjoy the little free time she had, and these were almost always filled with worries about the job. But there were also small moments that took her out of these stressful situations and brought her to the clouds in a matter of seconds, and the one who provided these moments was Kylian. Y/o looked at her boyfriend who greeted her at the door with a warm hug and a gentle kiss on the forehead. Her body relaxed against his, snuggling into his warmth.
- I've missed you, Ma chérie, I've been thinking about you all day. - Kylian said against her hair. Y/o let out a satisfied sigh, reluctantly leaving the cozy warmth of her boyfriend's chest to take off her shoes and sit down on the large sofa that looked even more inviting because of her tiredness.- I think someone is really tired here. How was your day? - Kylian asked with a playful tone, also sitting down on the couch and putting his sore feet in his lap, which was met with a grateful smile from you, knowing that he cares to know how your day went, even if it wasn't as exciting as a soccer player's, made you not look at it so negatively.
- Nothing new, you know, it's just that I'm feeling a bit...overwhelmed.
Kylian has always supported you in your goals, he was the first to support you to leave your old job in order to grow and he is also the proudest guy when it comes to saying how smart his girlfriend is and that she is the best at what she does. But Kylian would also be the first to tell you to abandon something that isn't doing you any good, he would enter his highest level of protective boyfriend if he knew that you were on the verge of a nervous breakdown because of work.
- Your boss isn't giving you more work than you can handle, right? - Her countenance was calm, even though her voice carried concern, and her hands began to slide down his feet and ankles, pressing carefully, drawing a tired but relaxed sigh.- No, but work has been more exhausting, if I want that promotion I'll have to work twice as hard, three times as hard in fact.
- You knew that being the girlfriend of the most talked about soccer player at the moment could give you easier access to the position you were aiming for, any position in fact, but you were never like that, choosing to get what you wanted by your own efforts without Kylian's influence, even if you had to do triple what a white man would do.
- Can I try to convince you again to accept my influence to provide you with a better job?- Kylian, we have already talked about this.
- What about you staying at home without worrying about anything, just being treated like the queen that you are?
- That option was also discussed and equally denied, my love. - You rebutted him with a smile. - But about being treated like a queen, do you think I can get that treatment now? I feel like I ran a marathon.
- Ma chérie, you can ask me anything you want and the answer will always be yes. - Kylian had a lazy smile on his face, you assumed that his day was not one of the smoothest either, but he still seemed willing enough to make you have a relaxing evening. Kylian shortened the distance between the two of you and deposited a soft kiss on your lips, caressing the sides of your body, Y/o's hands moved up towards your neck to deepen the kiss, but was surprised by a jolt from her boyfriend who lifted her off the couch bridal style towards the bathroom. Kylian set her down and turned on the tub, and turned around quickly as soon as he heard you start to undress.
- Non non, mon ange, today I will take care of you. - Kylian interrupted your movements and looked at you with a passionate gaze that you had no idea was possible due to your current state, neutral clothes that revealed nothing much, your hair caught in a clumsy hairstyle done at work, and the rest of the make-up you had put on in the morning, all seemed too ordinary and undeserving of such devotion.
As if he had read your thoughts Kylian said this, as he took off his clothes, but this action was not like he had done the other times, there was desire but this was a moment of devotion and gratitude reflected in his actions. - I love the life I lead with you, to be able to lie down with you every night and wake up with you. I am grateful for the time we spend together and I dare say I am also grateful for the longing I feel when we are away, longing is the certainty that we have the capacity to love.
A trail of kisses was deposited as each piece of clothing was removed, Y/o didn't know what to say, he just stood there admiring the love of his life saying one of the most beautiful things his ears had ever heard. Kylian didn't usually show his devotion with sugary words, always opting for physical touch, gifts and actions, but on this night he was particularly tempted to speak his deep thoughts and feelings. As soon as the tub filled up, the best products that were arranged in the bathroom were mixed in the water, Kylian helped his girlfriend into the warm water, kissed her forehead and lit some of his favorite candles that he knew would help her relax even more.
- Join me Ky, please. - Y/o's voice and face sounded needy and wanting, Kylian didn't wait a second request and undressed at the same moment and posed behind Y/o. In other moments the situation would be taken to another goal, but now what the two wanted most was the calm water and a relaxing moment just listening to each other's breathing. - Thank you for everything, mon coeur. - Your speech didn't last long because y/o was assured that Kylian knew the meaning of those words and was answered by him with a trail of kisses from shoulder to ear, he smiling slightly to hear you using that nickname he likes so much. Y/o let out a satisfied sigh, feeling all the tension fade away with the light massage on her shoulders and the warm water that worked wonders on her aching muscles. It was these simple moments that made her happy and made everything worthwhile, she could endure another day of hard work if she had the assurance that she would have Kylian wrapping her in his arms and making her feel like the luckiest woman in France.
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looking forward to the game between PSG and Bayern München
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sga-owns-my-soul · 9 months
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i’m having Thoughts about rodney and jennifer so here’s some rambles
i am forever salty about the romance between rodney and jennifer. it felt so forced and so weird to me, neither of them actually seemed to like the other.
it felt so much like rodney went for her bc she was the Young Hot Smart doctor and it was just another status symbol to him. it felt like rodney viewed and treated her as a trophy to parade around and show off (looking at you brain storm) and jennifer deserved better than that, she deserved to be with someone who genuinely understood her and got her as a person and saw the strengths AND flaws to her and still loved and wanted her (like oh idk ronon perhaps?????)
and it definitely felt forced on jennifer’s side too, she kept trying to change him and make him into someone he’s not. the whole ‘i fell for the new rodney mckay’ in shrine really makes it feel like that, bc the whole thing was rodney was losing himself and that’s when they try to establish they’re falling for each other. and rodney deserves better than that too. yeah he’s brash and arrogant and whatever but he has so many strengths too and he deserves someone who will love him because of his flaws, not try to change them (like oh idk john perhaps??????)
and my ronon/jennifer and mcshep hearts aside, the potential of rodney and jennifer to have the best, most chaotic friendship was RIGHT THERE!! they would’ve caused so much trouble oh my god!!! they’re both so sassy and stubborn and strong willed. they both excel so strongly in their specific field but get so flustered outside their expertise (even tho they still kick ass bc they’re super strong and smart) could u imagine them getting together after whatever disaster and just absolutely bitching about how unfair all this is and how this is absolutely not what we signed up for and we don’t not get paid enough but also you can pry this job from our cold dead hands
just
there were so many better options for all the characters than the path they took with rodney and jennifer
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Bewitched
1 of ?
He was always pragmatic when it came to relationships of any kind. Whether it was a shady business relationship ending in weapons deal or a dalliance ending in a great night. It was always a transaction. Simple and straightforward.
Eustass Kid wasn’t the type of man for traditional courting. Something like that was too complicated, it could get messy, and having someone like that was an exploitable weakness. Not that he’d ever admit it but a large part of him was also deathly afraid of being rejected.
That being said, he certainly wasn’t the type of man to show up early at her house, roses, and chocolates in hand, however that’s exactly what he was doing.
He reflected on how he came to arrive in this uncomfortable situation.
It was a quarter past midnight on the loudest street in the shit hole of port town, he and the rest of the crew had been bar hopping since they arrived earlier that day.
The night was very early, and Kid was looking to unwind and unload. That’s when he saw her. Sitting right by the door playing card games with herself.  Even if she had been tucked away in a far corner, he still would have noticed her. It was hard not to. She looked so out of place. Everyone else looked like hardened sailors but she was soft and short like a little cream puff.  Though Kid knew that appearances aren’t everything, and he’d certainly met his fair share of misleading looking people. Something about her just made her look soft, vulnerable, approachable. Though Kid figured she must be a local because the regulars clearly knew better than to actually approach.
Not that all the men were smart enough to keep away, over the course of about an hour or so he watched her take several to the cleaners.
It was the same old song and dance, she’d bat her pretty little eyes as some stooge with heavy pockets walked in, he’d come over and ask her to play a round. She’d pretend not to know the rules and then she’d wait patiently and feign interest as her mark would explain the game mechanics. She’d play a round; lose and then suggest they make it interesting. As soon as his berri was on the table she’d reveal her real skills.  The last guy got angry and threatened her and all she replied was “What are you going to do? Go the Marines you’ve been had? That you bet all your money like a fucking moron. That little old me robbed a big scary man like you?” The man, clearly feeling embarrassed and likely a little emasculated retreating from her presence.
That’s what got his attention. What she did after is what had her running through his mind for the whole week.
He sauntered over. “Hi, I’m Kid, Captain Eustass Kid.”
She smiled, gave him a once over, pausing ever so slightly at his belt before continuing up and landing on his face. “Charmed” she swirled finger on top of her glass. “I’m Y/N, what can I do for you, Captain Kid?
Something about the way she said his name just enamored him further, it was as if it were a spell. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “So, you like Cribbage?”
She laughed “You know I do. You have been watching me play since you came in, but you don’t give a fuck about the card game, you’re better than that.” She said as she flipped over a card and scribbled something across it “Here’s my address, you’re going to take me out to dinner at 7 pm, Thursday night. So long as you don’t ask me more stupid questions like that.”
Eustass Kid wasn’t the type of man to run out of words but that’s exactly what happened. He stood in a stunned silence as all of his blood pooled where it didn’t need to be.
“I know you’re no gentleman, but I am a lady, and I will be treated as such. So, you’re going to pick me up, gift me flowers and chocolates and pay for dinner.”
She then bagged up the night’s spoils winnings and strolled out but not before she bought the next round for the whole bar.
“Next rounds on Big Red” she announced to the delight of the bar.
Kid froze then patted himself down for his coin purse, unsurprisingly, it was nowhere to be found.
Kid had spent the last few days thinking about Y/n. He was desperate to know more about this bewitching woman. He stopped by the address the next day. It was definitely her house, and he could see his missing coin purse on the table through the window. He waited around for a couple hours, but she never showed up and he didn’t have all day. The ship’s needs did take precedence over whatever was going on here.
He checked the bounties; none. He had reached out to some of his black-market contacts; they hadn’t turned up anything.
Suffice to say, he was very impatient for Thursday. The three days before his date had dragged on for what felt closer to three years. Now that the appointed time and day had arrived, and he had come to the door, he was overcome with an odd feeling. He couldn’t place it. What was it? Fascination? Trepidation? Anticipation?
He wouldn’t be waiting much longer, the soft clicking of her heels indicated she was right behind the door.
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fantasy-relax · 3 months
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Brain worms attacking me.
Re8 Monarchy/medieval au/ omega verse because if I am cooking I'm gonna put every spice I want to.
Miranda (omega) is the queen living in cold war after the recent death of her husband, she is working in the betterment of the kingdom for her toddler daughter, Eva. The lords and ladies are children of the most high noble houses.
The stereotyping of the A/B /O is fading in the kingdom, all have the right to education and part of heritage, but of course there are people that refuse to change and keep thinking of alpha as the top, beta the middle and omega at the bottom. The same way men have more value that women. So the preference for children in this kind of families is:
Alpha male
Beta male
Alpha female
Beta female
Omega male
Omega female
Again the amount of people that follow that believe is few, not enough to cause trouble in general but still annoying. The most affected are the ones that are raised in them.
As the parent have the right and obligations to take care of them, alphas have the most attention while the rest have the minimum necessary to avoid legal trouble, omegas (male and female) get married off to other families in exchange of money, land, ect, as they are considered better partners than betas females because of better fertility, strong maternal instinct, least problems in childbirth plus the sex in the Heat period is fabulous, this is pitifully legal as is the right of the family and the engagement is made early as possible.
Of course when they're old enough to go to school the alphas get their asses kicked for their behavior, betas too if they are arrogant enough to act like jerks, but if not they along with the omegas receive the help they need (therapy, better education, etc) as they are pretty much handicapped and denied access they need, lucky omegas without engagement can found love there and move out of their house, unlucky ones end in loveless marriage (sometimes very, very short marriages, omegas have really strong maternal instinct, hurt their children and they will tear your throat and that is their right to do).
Dimitrescu
The house is in charge of thee commerce and internal affairs also have a wine business. Alcina (beta) is the youngest of the family, she suffers for an illness that make her weak but not bedridden, Miranda is the only one that has enough medical knowledge to treat her so she have stay in the palace for long periods of time.
Her family is old and traditional, after the period of mourning they were bothering Miranda to remarry because the kingdom needs a strong powerful alpha or at least a level headed beta to reign. Not a emotional and weak omega, least an female omega but Miranda is a very capable queen and most of the other nobles considered her more than enough, she is smart, cunning and not weak at all, she is the caring and terrifying mother of the kingdom and she demands respect, so give her that or she could appoint someone that will. They stopped after hearing the subtle threat but they were scheming.
She is the only daughter, she has two brothers, one alpha that treat her as dirt and one omega that is trapped in his room learning how to be a good husband (he couldn't escape, he tried but his family power and influence was bigger), is not surprise that is the only one to treat her as family and in response she treat him as human ( is not a surprise that he dies by his hand not soon after she goes to school)
Alcina is a truly a noble woman and well educated thanks to living half of the time with Miranda, she is more capable than her brother's and the best option to be the heir of the dimitrescu house but of course her parents denied her so she settles with the winery her parents relent because they don't have a better option, plus her sickness make her unappealing to marry, so they hope when the heir have children they will take care of it.
Moreau
In charge of the medical knowledge and service, also being the closest to the ocean are in charge of the fishing and ships. Salvatore (beta) is a weird boy and only child, he is small an suffers from chronic pain but is extremely intelligent so that was enough to be a acceptable heir, at least until another child is born. Something that will take time as his parents are always deep in their studies neglecting him, just give him enough attention to study his illness, treating him as a lab rat more than a son. As is the case with alcina, he tends to be in the palace most of the time under the care of Miranda.
He sometimes stay in the lake fishing is very calming for him (not because there is a very attractive boy helping his fisherman father every weekend)
Heisenberg
In charge of the minery and metalurgy, Karl is the youngest of five brothers and the only omega, his siblings play fight with him and teach him how to throw a mean punch, his parents give him all the education he wants. He is a truly loved and spoiled child, also a genius but he is lazy as his brothers are the one with all the responsibilities, he sometimes go to the palace because is the place with the biggest library and he loves to Learn. He is always guarded by Urias his personal knight, a young hardworking man of humble origin as the only son of a fisherman (that looks too much at Salvatore direction).
Beneviento
In charge of the textiles, botany and woodwork. Donna (omega) have a elder sister, Claudia.
Donna is a considered a weird child, rarely make eye contact, dislike to be dirty and prefers to play with her dolls than with other kids (they make fun of her) can go long periods of time in silence and in general be creepy. Her family try to change it, but after screaming fighting and a accident that scarred half of the face of the little girl they resigned and let her be.
It helps that donna is a omega, actually very good at botany, woodwork and sewing. Plus she is not bad at accounting. All the things that will make her a perfect heir, if she was more social and well, normal like Claudia. So they think about it, and decide to keep Claudia as the heiress but donna will be the one working behind the counter. Both girls are fine with this, Claudia found the paperwork boring and donna hated dealing with people.
Meanwhile her family thinks of her as weird, they is still care for her, she will work in her father workstation making dolls that will be selled across the kingdom and learning about all the paperwork that she needs to keep things moving, she will have tea and botany lessons with her mother learning how to be a proper lady and she will read books and listen to Claudia gossip, she loves them very much as they are all what she had, and forgive them for the accident, is okay she is okay she loves them, she really does.
Because of the injury she was treated personally be Miranda and after she started the training of heiress she have to go to the palace more often.
Claudia marries young and have a daughter, she names her Angela, the baby was born with a mark in the half of her face similar to the Beneviento Crest, so little Angie was considered a lucky child. At first they thought donna will freak out with a baby as they were loud and dirty just to be surprised as the baby absolutely adore her, asking to be carried by her, crying if she wasn't close and pretty much being her favorite person in the world something that Donna reciprocated with an unbelievable fervor.
The lords
Alcina hates Karl for the fact that he could be a example of greatness from the omegas but he chooses mediocrity (a small part of her is happy, children deserve to be loved and be carefree)
He hates alcina because she is so stuck up and never haves fun (a small part of him worries for her, he knows the rumors, how much hurt she have? )
They argue every second of the day (he will cover her with a blanket in the days when he sees her sleeping in the desk) call each other awful names (she makes sure that the book he wants is in the library) they hate each other (they love and protect each other with ferocity).
Alcina is very patient with Salvatore and Donna, even so, she will scold Salvatore because he Is almost the same age as her and should be able to make things by himself, he should man up and stop being a coward ( she still will go and help him anyway and verbally destroy the idiots that bother him).
Donna is the youngest so she have a soft spot for her, even with her peculiar behavior she try to be very gentle when they are together.
Salvatore loves all his friends ( the closest thing to siblings that he have) and loves Venerable Mother Miranda too ( she is the only parent that he ever had)
He works hard in his studies to cure alcina illness (she tells him to think about him first, he never listen, he could live with the pain, alcina could have a bad relapse an die, he will never let that happen) to reduce the scarring of donna face (he knows that she hates it and a part of her hates her family too even if she said that she loves them, he knows that lie to well) and to make medicine more easy and cheap to access for the commoners. He doesn't like to play fight with karl but he always is healing him when his experiments blow at his face (sometimes literally) and tries to be a mediator in his fights with alcina.
Karl mocks Salvatore cowardly behavior but will and has punch people making fun of him and donna (alcina too but he will never admit it), he goes fishing in the weekends with Salvatore (and pretend to don't recognize Urias working with his father or the lovesick look in Salvatore face, ew gross) he sometimes work with donna in creating new toys or machines for woodworking/industry.
He show his scars with pride, he is stronger that what hurt him, he holds donna hand when stupid people make stupid comments and smile with full teeth and malice when alcina tears them apart (he could see the same smile in Donna)
Donna loves her friends, they don't make her feel bad and wrong, Karl keeps an towel and soap in his workroom specifically for her and don't laugh at her when she plays with her dolls (he will run and come back with his toys and they will play together even if they aren't in the right age anymore), She can talk for hours with Salvatore about the plants in medicine and hide together in the theaters to see the plays (alcina is the one that makes sure that they are unbothered) and rant when the treatment of their families gets to be too much (she loves them, she does), alcina teach her a lot of tricks to deal with people or at least make it bearable to do but alcina also have a bad temper and sometimes it will explode (alcina always do her best to stop and leave the room but in the rare occasions that she screams at donna she will buy her all kinds of gifts with a small pout in her face) donna forgives her (but she will not advise her about Karl latest prank, because she can be very petty) and will bring her baby niece to meet them (all have the "there is a cat in my lap so I can't move" problem when baby Angie decides she is to comfortable)
All of them adore little Eva too. Alcina wil have false tea partys, donna will make dolls personalized for her, Karl will teach her cool experiments (and run away from an angry alcina) and moreau will read fairytales at her.
The fall and rise of the houses
Some nobles work with the enemy kingdom behind Miranda back with promise of power and wealth, this lead to the killing of the all the dimitrescu except alcina and the destruction of the principal fabric of the Heisenberg along with the family except Karl, his mother and two brothers, one decide to enlist in the war and die in it.
Alcina ascend and take charge of dealing with all the damage make by her family, she will not betray the trust that the people, the queen (Her mother) put in her.
Direct war is happening again, but Miranda is a strategist they make her move now she is making hers, the head of the enemy king and all of his direct line is hanged outside of the palace, the second line take the power and proceed to make peace and alliance. Chris, the new king offer two candidates to marriage Ethan and Mia. The engagement is made but the matrimony is paused when a plague take place.
Moreau takes charge fast and create treatments faster, this is his responsibility this is were his talent lies, he will not fail.
The plague kills people of both Kingdoms, precautions are taken even so fatalities happen, the moreau being the ones in most contact die quickly, lady Heisenberg and the last brother of Karl die , lady beneviento, Claudia and her husband and donna herself get infected, after the death of his wife and eldest daughter the lord in agony kill himself, donna is still alive and she will fight to stay because there is a little girl waiting for her, she will keep breathing even if hurts and burns, she will not leave her.
Moreau is doing the best he can, some treatments work others not, things get worse when Eva is infected too. She doesn't survive. Miranda don't talk and she and Moreau keeps working, Donna keeps walking in the line of death and life. The last treatment works, she survives, the kingdom mourns.
Karl put all his focus in his work, there are too many things to do, he can't stop. ( if he stop he will break, he can't break, he can let alcina and moreau do all the work, he can't face the silence in his house)
The Queen works hard to deal with the damage, the people admire her strength, truly a devoted monarch, truly a chosen by the gods.
(She wanted to end everything the moment that Eva exhaled her last breath, first her parents then her beloved mate now her daughter, did she offend the gods? Did something that she did that she said was the reason of this agony?.)
She wanted to die but she still have children to take care, she is the queen, she is the Venerable Mother of this Kingdom and her children are hurting too, she will make things better, she had to.
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rrxnjun · 2 years
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just saying ;; lyy
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pairing: liu yangyang x fem!reader genre: college au | comedy, fluff, angst wc: 11.6k (11.602) playlist: just saying - 5 seconds of summer ; 21 questions - waterparks ; maniac - conan gray ; perfume - lovejoy ; i want u bad - r5 ; gloom boys - waterparks warnings: swearing, a mention of cheating
you got a new boyfriend. in yangyang’s eyes, he’s a total loser, and all your friends tell you that he’s got no future. they all like him, though... and so in a desperate plan, jealousy takes over and liu yangyang executes his masterplan: he has to make you two break up. all because he could treat you better than him. just saying though...
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i. you got a boyfriend and he's a total loser
Slurping on his banana flavored boba, while making a noise that has successfully annoyed everyone at the table– Renjun the most, it seems, by the way he glares and kicks the other boy under the table with much force– Yangyang looks around the sprously-crowded study room and clears his throat, as if his presence wasn’t well-known already. 
“So,” he starts, making sure at least someone’s eyes are on him before he proceeds and asks the crucial question– the question that’s still keeping him at this place, the question that’s been burning at the tip of his tongue for the past 20-or-so minutes. “Is Y/N not coming?” 
Your best friend looks up from her textbook, the same one she’s been aimlessly staring into for the past 20 minutes, rolling her eyes at him and heaving out a heavy sigh. Yangyang doesn’t know if the sigh is addressed to the stupidity of his question or not, but he’s willing to find out as he only jabs more and raises up his eyebrows in question, making Ryujin answer his question faster. 
The answer is a simple ‘No’, followed by a tight-lipped smile sent his way as the girl looks back to her textbook again and furrows her brows with much despair. Yangyang doesn’t blame her, because from the look of it, it looks like Ryujin is trying to cramp some Physics into that bleached head of hers, and even though Yangyang is a linguistics major, he can only imagine how annoying and difficult all those numbers mixed with letters can be to memorize. 
The reply he was given is not enough for him, though. Don’t get me wrong, it would be more than enough for anyone else– for anyone normal, it seems– but Yangyang doesn’t even want to attend the study group he’s sitting with right now. The truth is, he’s only going because you’re there. And if you’re not there, then the whole purpose of sitting in the small room at the very end of the college campus is a waste of time for him– a waste of time he’s not willing to spend when he has one more season of Tokyo Ghoul to rewatch now that he has Netflix. Yes, it’s the account he stole from Dejun. But still. A free Netflix account is a free Netflix account…
Liu Yangyang knows you as the resident smart girl. That’s not all, though– it’s simply the way he got to know you, and it’s hard to peel that sticker off now. You were the only person that replied to him in the class group chat when he asked if someone could tutor him on the last topic of his Math exam last year– he quickly dropped the class the next semester, but he really needed the extra credit back then. Since then, you two have been meeting every Wednesday in the same small room at the end of the plain-white corridor in the Biology building– the only one that’s free at this time. Yangyang quickly fell into liking you. It wasn’t hard at all, if you ask him; you’re lively and confident, you always have something to say, and most of all, you always laugh at his jokes. Yangyang just can’t not like someone that laughs at his jokes. It strokes his ego just right, since the amount of disses he gets for his jokes from his roommate Dejun is just the right amount to keep him humble. 
Yangyang likes to think he lured you in with the weekly dose of strawberry chocolate he always brought you as a payment for your tutoring services; because as soon as he dropped the class and told you he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, you brought up the idea of him attending your small study group– which, essentially, is just your group of friends hanging out every Wednesday with textbooks in their hands, pretending to study for the exams together. 
Yangyang doesn’t know your friends and he’s sure as hell that he won’t be able to learn anything if you’re sitting in the seat next to him, but it’s you who we’re talking about. 
Of course he said yes.
And so when on one Wednesday, when he’s sitting with all your friends, that are somehow now his distant friends (he wouldn’t really call them his friends, still. He hasn’t embarrassed himself in front of them that many times just yet), and you’re not there to be his eye candy, he doesn’t see the purpose of it all anymore. He’s a curious guy by nature, though; and he’s always curious about you.
“Why?”
Now it’s Renjun’s time to sigh and roll his eyes. Yangyang is starting to think that it’s at him, but when Lia snickers from the other side of the table and mumbles something under her nose, he’s enlightened with an information that hits him right in the gut and makes him want to throw up and scream.
“She’s with her new boyfriend,” Ryujin replies, making all of them murmur in agreement– or is it disagreement? Yangyang isn’t quite sure anymore.
“...boyfriend?” Yangyang repeats, as if he wasn’t sure if he heard your friends right.
“Yeah,” Renjun nods, “he’s a total loser, though. I can’t believe she passed on her stupid study group on Wednesday just because he insisted on a date today.”
“Just for the record, I wouldn’t even be coming if I didn’t have a test tomorrow, that’s now disgusted with her actions I am,” Lia mutters, making Yangyang widen his eyes in surprise. 
“Who even is he?” Yangyang asks. 
“I dunno,” Ryujin shrugs, closing her textbook shut– a sign that she’s fully immersed in talking about your boyfriend behind his back now, “he dropped out, apparently? He’s got no future. I think she met him like three weeks ago and they’re already dating, can you believe that? I don’t like him at all. The last time I saw him, he didn’t even say hi back to me. Like I wasn’t even there!” 
Yangyang gasps, shaking his head in disbelief. Why would you date anyone like that? Where did that guy even come from? As far as he knew, he was one of your closest friends– why wasn’t he notified about a new guy in your circle? 
“That’s ridiculous, dude,” he mumbles, furrowing his brows.
“Yeah, I don’t get it,” Lia shrugs, “and to think that we all literally had a bet that she’s gonna date you in a few…” 
“Huh?” Yangyang opens his eyes wide, gulping down his built-up saliva. Did he hear her right? Dating? You two?
“Yeah,” Ryujin shrugs, “you just randomly appeared! We totally thought she had a crush on you, and don’t get me wrong, we were all for it, but it seems like we… were wrong.”
Yangyang hums, nodding. He didn’t know that everyone thought this about you two… Well, he can’t say he doesn’t like it, no– he very much adores the fact that your friends thought you had a crush on him, but it stings even more now when he realizes that your friends liked him enough to accept him into their circle, while your new boyfriend hasn’t even tried. 
He’ll ignore the bet part for now. 
“Yeah, seems like it,” Yangyang agrees, “what’s that guy’s name anyway?”
“Hyunho, or something?” Renjun replies, a look of disgust written on his face, “we stalked his Insta for a bit. He’s got a profile full of cringey gym pics and pics from when he went fishing.”
“Fishing,” Yangyang repeats.
“Yeah man, we told you it’s bad.”
Shaking his head in disbelief and putting his head into his hands, Yangyang lets out one of many sighs shared around the table, biting his bottom lip. He’ll make sure to stalk that guy when he comes home– just to see if there’s anything your friends didn’t mention that is a walking red flag. Who knows, maybe… maybe he still has time to talk you out of it. 
Maybe.
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ii. he barely takes you out and if he does he's late
Trying to catch his breath as the crowd finally leaves the café he works at– the time period between 2 and 2:35pm is always the busiest– he hangs his head low and curses under his breath. Only god knows just how much Yangyang despises his job as a barista in the campus café; and that’s only because he won’t admit it to anyone that dares to laugh at him and make jokes about it. Yes, he comes to work every day with disgust coating his senses, but at least he gets paid. And he really needs that money.
A cheerful voice breaks him out of his slumber, a voice he would, on regular circumstances, want to strangle to death, making him look up again and switch the glare for a fake smile. 
A fake smile that quickly shifts into an honest one, when he realizes who’s standing in front of him in their full glory.
“Can I get the usual?” you grin, making him shake his head in disbelief.
“Y/N, you don’t have an usual, this is like the second time you’ve been here,” he notes, battling the grin that’s wanting to settle onto his lips. It’s easy to smile for him when you’re around, but he caught his jaw being in pain the last time you two hung out, and he’s not willing to live through that experience again, since it sure was humbling.
“Well, I’m making my last order my usual, then. That’s how it works, doesn’t it?” you smile, making him mockingly roll his eyes at you.
“Sure, whatever you say.”
Yangyang could lie and tell you that he doesn’t remember what you ordered the first time you were here– it was right after his exams and you were too impatient to wait for him to tell you if he passed them or not, since, and this is an indirect quotation, you have to be there for him just in case he failed and needs mental support. He passed his exams and your visit only added to his euphoria, as he chatted away with you until he had to close the café and walked you home. So, Yangyang could lie and tell you that he doesn’t vividly remember that day up to the smallest detail, but he’s not that much of a good liar, after all, so he won’t even try.
He remembers your order down to the chocolate shavings on top of the whipped cream that’s decorating your favorite iced caramel macchiato, and so he wastes no time in turning around and preparing your drink as you sit at the tall bar stool and wait for him to get it ready for you.
“You always work. I had to run over here just so I could hang out with you,” you mumble, a teasing pout sitting at your lips that Yangyang catches when he briefly turns around to peek at your face. 
“Yeah, well, my rent is not gonna get paid by itself, so,” he shrugs, swirling the whipped cream on top of your drink, getting ready to sprinkle the chocolate shavings delicately to the peak of the white, cloudy mess. He briefly imagines putting a cherry on top, just because you distantly remind him of cherries, in a way, before he mentally cringes at his thoughts and shoos them out of his lovesick brain.
“I get that,” you note, “but do you even have time for yourself?” 
“Of course I do,” Yangyang snickers, finished with your drink now, bringing it to you. He does have time for himself, of course– and so what if it’s in the deadly hours of night and on Wednesdays. If he’s lucky, he’s free on every other Friday too, depending on if Chaeryeong is free to cover his shift. And he’s free on weekends! That’s plenty of time.
“You’re always locked up here.”
Yangyang rolls his eyes at you. “It has its privileges.”
“Like what?”
“Like… if I wasn’t here as often, Johnny would kick my ass if he saw me chatting away with our customers,” he shrugs, seeing you snicker. That, and he also gets to study when the café isn’t as busy. They take turns with Hendery when he’s around, but he mostly just slacks off in the back, pretending to ‘stack up on coffee beans’. 
“Okay, then,” you absently nod, taking a sip of your drink. A blissful expression overtakes your features, hinting that Yangyang did his job right and your caramel macchiato is surely one of the best things you’ve ever tasted. He wonders if it’s addicting enough to make you visit him at work more often– he wouldn’t be opposed to it even on the busiest days of them all. 
“What brings you here?” he asks, leaning on the counter. His legs are starting to hurt from walking around so much– damn Mondays; they’re always the busiest. 
“What, I can’t visit my friend at work?” you gasp, acting offended by his question.
“You can, you can,” he brings up his hands into the air in a defensive act, “you’ve just never done it before.”
Taking another sip of your drink, you look almost guilty as you nod and sigh. “That’s true,” you nod, “but… I’m kind of… waiting for someone?”
Already preparing for the impact of your answer, Yangyang curls his toes in anticipation. “For who?”
“Hyunho,” you smile, “my boyfriend. We’re going on a date, and I figured that we could stop by to get some coffee first, and since I know this café is famous for its good coffee,” you note as you point towards Yangyang, as if to praise the boy for doing his job right, “I invited him here.”
“Oh,” Yangyang nods, subconsciously pulling away from you, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
A knowing look is sent his way, making shivers run down his spine as you snicker. “You were with Ryujin and Renjun on Wednesday. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t know.”
“Okay, so maybe I did know, but all I’m saying is that I didn’t know before. It’s… kind of sudden, you know,” he mumbles, trying to sound the least suspicious he can. It’s not every day that you talk to your crush about their new boyfriend; Yangyang never thought he’d live to the day when this happens (not that you’re not pretty or interesting enough to get a boyfriend. He just somehow always assumed that you’re gonna be single and free for him to simp over forever), but here we are.
“Yeah, well,” you mumble sheepishly, “it just kind of… happened.”
Yangyang hums in response, nodding. What else is there for him to say? He feels like all the vocabulary in his head– in all 5 languages he knows– escaped his brain and is standing somewhere in the corner of this café, laughing at him and pointing their fingers at just how embarrassing the whole situation is. 
“How did you two even meet?” he asks, playing with the stack of plastic cups to his left, as if the action was meant to mask his over-interest in the topic that is your new boyfriend.
“At a party,” you say.
His eyes scan you up and down. By the way your eyes avert to the side when your eyes meet, you look a little ashamed of your answer. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing bad about going to parties, and Yangyang would never judge you for getting loose and letting your inner party animal shine, but you and parties just… don’t go together. And you know that, by the way you quickly jump into self-defense.
“You know Mark, right?” you start blabbering, not even sparing a second to let Yangyang absently nod in agreement, “well, it was his party. And Hendery was invited, and you know my friend Yuna is into him, right? And since she didn’t want to go alone– and I don’t blame her, parties are fucking scary for adolescent girls– I, as her good friend, offered that I’ll go with her! It was only a one-time occurrence. But as I was there, this guy talked to me in the kitchen as I was waiting for Yuna to come back from the toilet, which, just by the way, she didn’t– she met Hendery on the way back and they made out in one of the rooms on the second floor– and I was so bored and it was still too early for me to come home and I was supposed to drive Yuna home, so I flirted with him,, and… and… here we are,” you complete your little storytime with an overly-exaggerated hand movement. 
Quickly taking your drink into your own hands, as if to occupy yourself as you wait for your friend’s answer, you peek at him from under your eyelashes and blink a few times in anticipation. 
“Hendery made out with Yuna?” Yangyang repeats, mouth slightly agape in shock.
“That’s all you got from this conversation?” 
“I- I mean that’s… that’s really great for you, yeah, but Hendery and Yuna? In what universe do these two belong together?” 
Hendery and Yuna just… aren’t the best combination. It’s the one Yangyang wouldn’t even think of creating. It’s like chocolate and pickles. Where Yuna is the sweet chocolate and Hendery is the weird, crunchy pickle. And even though Yangyang has tried this combination before, he for sure didn’t like it– just another sign that these two do not belong together under any circumstances.
“This universe, apparently,” you shrug, sighing, “anyways, it all happened really quickly. I didn’t even have time to tell you that I was seeing someone, I’m sorry.”
Yangyang only hums. Well, what else is he going to do? Be mad at you? For… what, exactly? For not telling him about your new find? For not telling him about going to a party? That would be stupid. The only person he has every right to be mad at is himself, because even after hearing your story and seeing the stars in your eyes light up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name, Yangyang just can’t seem to feel bitter in his chest and just a little bit envious of the position that Hyunho is in after 2 weeks, while Yangyang has been pining over you for at least the last 6 months. It’s not fair. 
“It’s okay,” he mumbles, “I’m happy for you.”
The smile that overtakes your features is one that would make even the shittiest of days feel like a fairytale. The slight tug of your lips upwards and the little scrunch you do with your nose is a sight Yangyang’s seen multiple times since getting to know you, but even after all this time, he feels like even a baseball bat could not hit him harder than this. 
No, he can’t be bitter that you got a new boyfriend that’s not him. At least not in front of you. 
“Thanks,” you grin, “you’re actually the first one to say that, so… it means a lot to me.”
He freezes. It hasn’t occurred to him before just how much the words of others could affect your relationship. In the bottom of his heart, he thought that just being in love with the person is enough to be happy– but it seems like the opinion of your friends and family matters too. 
So Yangyang decides to support you, even if he might be the only one in your circle to do so. 
“Where is he? He’s like 15 minutes late,” you mumble. Yangyang furrows his eyebrows at you, shrugging.
“There’s a lot of traffic around this time.”
You purse your lips, looking at the time on your phone screen– which, just by the way, is still decorated by a picture of your friend group all out on the fare, which makes Yangyang happy to see– and finish your drink. Yangyang assumed you were going to take it with you to your date, since you rarely drink more than one coffee a day. 
“Do you want another one?” he asks, still.
“No, I’m just gonna wait for Hyunho to arrive,” you tightly smile. 
Minutes slowly pass as Yangyang cleans the counter and throws out the plastic cup that was used to hold your drink, making coffee for the lonely couple that came a few minutes after you ordering two iced americanos. He doesn’t want to pay much attention to it, he really doesn’t, but the clock sitting right above his head as he scoops the ice into the two cups reminds him of time passing.
Three minutes, five… seven… fifteen. 
Another fifteen minutes pass before the door opens with a subtle hum of a ring, revealing a man in a leather jacket passing through the entrance without a single word, nearing the tall barstool you’re sitting at. Yangyang can only assume it’s your boyfriend by the way he wraps a protective arm around your waist and greets you as silently as he can, as if he didn’t want to disturb the other customers.
“Where were you all this time?” you ask, and Yangyang can only faintly hear the subtle disappointment in your voice before you’re cut off by your boyfriend’s low voice. 
“Traffic.”
“Okay,” Yangyang sees you sadly smile from the corner of his eye, a cheerful grin overtaking your features when your eyes meet, “do you want to order anything? This is my friend-”
“No, I’m fine. Let’s go somewhere else,” he says, not even meeting eyes with who you meant to introduce to him, tugging you off the barstool instead. 
Yangyang doesn’t have much time to say goodbye to you before you disappear behind the entrance, only earning himself a wave as you hop by your boyfriend’s side and attentively listen to what he has to say. 
Yangyang thinks that it might be harder to pretend that he’s happy for you now. And it’s only getting started.
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iii. all your friends tell you that he's got no future, but they like me
“Can you believe that? He literally dragged her out of the café! I legit wanted to run after him and throw an americano down his back,” he rambles, aggressively wiping the counter with a smelly cloth that should have been washed like a week ago, “and when I asked her the other day after class how the date went, she went oddly quiet. If that’s not suspicious, then I don’t know what is.”
Throwing the damp cloth down to the floor– to the right corner, far enough to not make anyone trip over it behind the counter– Yangyang looks up to find Dejun and Renjun, the two Juns of his nightmares, as he likes to call them, staring at him with blank eyes and disbelief written all over their faces. 
Sure, no one liked your new boyfriend. No one’s gotten as violent with their thoughts about him just yet, and Yangyang fears that he might just have gone too far.
“Okay, well, I can see why you’re so furious about it, but… it’s her relationship,” Dejun shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee, “why do you care so much?”
“Because she’s my friend!” Yangyang gasps, mouth hanging slightly agape from shock. 
“Yeah, and? We’re friends, but I wouldn’t give two fucks if your new girl was toxic or some shit. That’s all your decision, mate,” Dejun shrugs and fully enjoys the taste of the hot beverage on his tongue. Dejun is the only person Yangyang knows that likes their coffee hot, even if it feels like a sauna outside. He never really grasped why he’s like that, he figures Dejun might just be a psychopath of some sort; but seeing him now with his blank white cup steaming into his face, Yangyang feels the utter masculine urge of splashing the contents right into his face. Or his own. Either one works.
“Well, thanks for looking out for me, I guess,” Yangyang furrows his brows and rolls his eyes in irony, “Renjun, can I get any support in this topic? You care about Y/N just as much as I do.”
“Well, I don’t know about that-” Renjun mutters under his breath, making the younger boy (even though it’s only a few months; Renjun likes to mention their ‘age difference’ every time he wants to take the upper hand, though, so it’s now kind of fixated in Yangyang’s brain as well) scrunch up his face in question.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he peeps, “but yeah, that dude’s a lost case. I overheard  Y/N telling Ryujin that he invited her to sleep over at his house on Friday,” Renjun mutters, making Yangyang fume even harder with built-up frustration. 
“Who does that after a month of dating!” 
The brutal gaze he is sent by Renjun is one that could make anyone’s back shiver with terror. The little one can get scary sometimes, it seems. “Oh, so you’re conservative,” he sings, voice almost imitating Kris Jenner in a conversation with her dearest daughter Khloé about the wearingness of thongs in public.
“Excuse you, I’m not,” Yangyang defends himself, putting his hands to his hips in a stance quite similar to his mother’s back when she used to nag him for not washing his dishes after eating when he was younger.
Dejun’s eyes drift slowly from one person to the other, enjoying his friends’ heated debate over a man he’s never once seen in his whole entire life, feeling very much like in an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians. 
“Well, I think it’s reasonable. They’re dating,” Dejun mumbles, testing the waters with his remark.
Like a sleeping volcano, Yangyang suddenly erupts, arms waving in the air and all, looking almost comical with his animated screeches. “That means they’re gonna fuck! And what if the condom breaks? Oh no. Worse. What if they don’t wear it at all and he doesn’t pull out fast enough and then she has to carry his babies?!” 
The shriek of horror is followed by a fit of laughter coming from the other side of the communication canal; the only one not finding the whole situation funny is Yangyang, though, heavily thinking of how even your pretty genes won’t outlaw the weird asymmetry in your boyfriend’s face. He quickly catches himself and rolls his eyes on his own snarky comment, forcing it out of his own head– he has no right to judge a man that’s, admittedly, a few heads taller than him and broader in the shoulders. 
“You’re overthinking it.”
“Well, you have to be prepared for every possible outcome!” Yangyang mumbles, noticing new customers arriving through the glass door of the café. 
One last glare is sent to his friends’ direction as he spills out his last comment, the discomfort he feels with the whole situation very much apparent on his face. “You’ll stop laughing when the day comes and I’ll be the only one that can say ‘told you so’, you fuckers.”
The smile he offers the customers standing behind the counter is so different to the expression he had before, one would think there was a shift in reality. 
Thank god Yangyang is a good actor.
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iv. got a big house, he says he lives alone
Liu Yangyang is not a stalker. He’s not stalking your boyfriend. That’s not at all what’s happening when he sees him at the grocery store one day and eyes him the whole journey to his car, silently following him with the bag of groceries buckled in to his passenger seat, driving down the block and praying to god that your boyfriend doesn’t see him in the rear window, or worse– notice that it’s him that’s, coincidentally, following his every turn. 
That’s not stalking… right?
He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to prove here– surely, he can’t know much about your boyfriend just by simply staring at him from his car window. He can’t tell what he’s listening to on the radio– although, he can tell it’s not Nicki Minaj, for he’s not vibing as hard as Yangyang is when he almost forgets to take a turn left when your boyfriend’s car disappears out of his view for a split second. He can’t tell if your boyfriend is worth trusting behind the wheel either; Yangyang isn’t even worth trusting behind the wheel anyway. He’s got his driver’s license recently and already forgot what some of the road signs mean. He’s no judge in that.
Yangyang doesn’t know what he’s trying to prove– to anyone, but mostly to himself– when he follows your boyfriend home one day, but you could say there’s something in the universe that desperately wants him to win, in some way. A silent hint of intuition running through his bones, a spark of hope that lights him up as he feels tingling in the tips of his fingers, anticipation finally reaching the top as he sees your boyfriend park in the driveway, slowing down and waiting at the end of the street.
He goes unnoticed. Your new boyfriend must be blind, Yangyang wonders, silently chuckling to himself as he silently spectates and watches the scene in front of him unravel.
Hyunho walks out of the car– seemingly, an innocent act. The man himself walks over to the trunk, taking out the bag of groceries he’s bought at the store not too long ago, smashing the car door shut with such force that it makes Yangyang wince in terror. He surely hopes he’s not this harsh when he operates with your body, though, he doesn’t like to think about his touch on you, so he bats that thought away with a blink of his eyelashes and focuses on his investigation.
Angels, spirit guides, god… someone must be on his side today. He’s not crazy. He doesn’t usually follow people home. He’s not saying that it’s not fun, of course– it’s just something he’s never picked up before, preferring to focus his time on other, much more interesting hobbies. There must be a reason why he’s here– and the reason is unleashing right in front of his eyes.
The eureka moment suddenly hits him with much force, his lips parting, as if to scream a winning “Ha!” at the top of his lungs. 
He is a good listener. Well, most times, that is– when it’s you he’s listening to, though, he’s quite sure his memory is writing down each and every single word that comes out of your mouth, paying attention to detail and punctuation. He’s your number one fan, after all. 
And with that in mind, he remembers you telling him trivial facts about your boyfriend. 
That he’s strong (Yangyang’s definitely stronger), that he doesn’t like his coffee hot (one of the only normal things about him, it seems), that he’s super sweet, honest and loyal. You’ve also told him that he lives alone– in a small house with a brown roof, identical to the one he’s standing in front of right now, with the bag of groceries in his hold. 
Here he goes– the thing he’s been sent here for, the fact that he was supposed to acquire in this quest. 
Out of the house, a middle-aged woman strides her way forward, hair an identical shade of brown to Hyunho, who is only pointing an annoyed look at her through his dark eyes, the shape similar to the woman’s. She takes the groceries inside as your boyfriend locks the car, both of them disappearing in the comfy-looking house.
The ending seems anti-climactic, sure. Yangyang’s learned something about your boyfriend right now, though– something he’s sure he can use against him, if he really wanted to. 
“Hyunho lives alone, in like, a super pretty house just a few blocks away. Can you believe that?” your voice rings in his head, making him dryly chuckle and shake his head in disbelief.
That’s not true– his mum was home– and your boyfriend is a cheeky, little liar.
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v. you should leave him, 'cause it really makes me sick
In another one of many meetings with his only friends– Renjun and Dejun– Yangyang complains. It’s the thing he likes the most, and it’s also the thing he’s the best at, so no one can really blame him for taking the time off his day to add every single, most unnecessary comment to each thing that’s just slightly annoyed him for the last week. It’s his second nature. A human instinct, even. 
Most of the topics he brings up when he complains, though, include your boyfriend, in some way. It’s been a few months since you two started dating, and everyone’s gotten used to it by now, it seems, but Liu Yangyang is a one pretentious fucker– he can’t let things go as easily. 
Not when you’re still, pretty much the only topic of his interest.
He should really get some new hobbies.
“And so- And so I drove past his house, and his mum was home! He’s a total liar. Can’t believe how Y/N can stand him-”
“You stalked Hyunho?” Renjun cuts him off, pointing a concerned look towards his friend, eyebrows all furrowed and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He surely knows how to make someone feel bad about their actions– Yangyang should learn how to make that look the next time Renjun’s over, to be honest.
“I didn’t stalk him, come on. I just happened to see where he was going, and I just so happened to follow him and see his mum walk out of the house where he supposedly lives alone!” Yangyang rages, throwing his hands up into the air.
“She could have been there for a visit, for all we know…” Dejun mutters, opening a can of coke and sitting with them at the kitchen table. He chooses to sit opposite Renjun, because with how furiously Yangyang operates with the chopsticks in between his fingers, there’s a high chance that the take-out might end up in Dejun’s hair. And he really doesn’t want that. He washed it yesterday.
“Nah, bro, I’m telling you. He’s a bastard.”
With a roll of his eyes, Renjun sighs. “Just because he lives with his mum? It’s okay to live with your mum.”
“Do you live with your mum?” Yangyang argues, raising up his eyebrows.
“I don’t, but I’m just saying that if I did, it wouldn’t be such a problem-”
“It’s not just that, though! There’s so much that goes beyond the surface. One, he lies about who he lives with. Two, he always makes Y/N wait. Trust me, she’s been to the café at least 3 times now, waiting for him, and every single time, he arrived at least 30 minutes late. Three, he always makes her pay at the restaurant-”
“How would you know?”
“Ryujin told me. Y/N told her after she promised not to tell anyone, but I got it out of her,” Yangyang quickly answers, seeing Dejun widen his eyes in surprise and disbelief.
“So much for girl code…”
“Four! He hasn’t hung out with us once in these months they’ve been together. Five. I don’t like his eyebrows. He looks like a prick-”
“That’s not a valid reason,” Renjun sighs, making Yangyang roll his eyes.
“Okay, sure,” he admits, chewing on the last bite of the take-out he brought home after ending his shift at the café, swallowing before he starts talking again, desperate to prove his point, “all I’m saying is that Y/N doesn’t seem happy with him. Think about it! When was the last time she’s hung out with us? When was the last time she laughed so hard she cried? Huh? The last time I checked, it’s been a few months, and before that, it was an everyday occurance,” Yangyang shrugs, proving that  he’s right– he always is.
“And neither of you like him anyway, so I don’t get why I’m the only one getting crucified for voicing my opinion!” 
“Well, just speaking about it with us won’t do anything. What do you even want from this? You want them to break up?” Renjun barks, pointing his chopsticks towards Yangyang, an annoyed expression sitting at the top of his face. 
“I mean…” Yangyang mumbles, averting his gaze from them.
He won’t admit to it. No, never in a million years– it’s enough that his friends still haven’t noticed the clear obsession in his eyes whenever he speaks about you. He truly cares about you, he does! And he means everything he’s saying about your new boyfriend. It’s not just jealousy shining through; even though he feels his blood boiling every time he sees you two together and his heart breaks a little every time you smile at him with just the right amount of lovesickness.
He can’t admit that he’d be much happier if you were single again– because that would mean that he could at least have a little bit of faith in himself, the smallest hint of hope that maybe, maybe if he tried hard enough, maybe if you suddenly woke up one day and magically liked him back, you could be his. 
This way, though, he knows he’s hopeless.
And he feels like a played-out love song every time he sees you with Hyunho (where you laugh at his unfunny jokes and he doesn’t meet your eye contact), but Yangyang knows that he could treat you so much better than your current boyfriend ever has.
“You know, if you really want them to break up, maybe you should do something about it,” Dejun shrugs, meeting Yangyang’s eye.
Something clicks inside of his brain, gears finally finding their right place in his pea-sized brain; magically looking like a squirrel high on caffeine when he chuckles under his breath, Liu Yangyang has a masterplan he needs to execute. 
Only if he knew that his actions have consequences– much bigger than he’d ever imagined. 
That’s a problem for another evening, though.
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vi. you don't need him, I'll help you get over it
Yangyang despises hipster cafés. Not only are they much different to the cafés he is used to– the one he works at, in particular– but the amount of plants surrounding him while indie music plays in the background surely can’t be enough to match the prices in the cheaply-made menu sitting at the top of the table. 
There’s no rush. No screaming of the orders. No weird smell coming from the back. This is not the campus café he is employed at, and even though he should be glad he is enjoying coffee somewhere else just because he simply can, there’s something inside of him yearning for the comfort of something he knows so dearly. 
You’re sitting in front of him, a sad face painted on your features. Of course you’re here– he wouldn’t be coming into a stupid hipster café if it wasn’t for you inviting him. The plants hanging above your head decorate your aura perfectly, though, and Yangyang simply can’t imagine spending his time with you in the half-empty, half-assed café at the very edge of your college campus anymore. This is where you belong, truly.
“What’s with the frown?” he asks almost a little too hesitantly, kicking you lightly in the shin under the table. You look up through your eyelashes, pointing your gaze towards him, a sad smile finding its way onto your face. Yangyang desperately wants to kick it away from its place– in his head, you’re only supposed to be smiling. There’s no place for a frown. 
“It’s… it’s nothing,” you chuckle, though the sound doesn’t seem as light-hearted as you meant it out to be. 
If there’s one thing about Yangyang, it’s that he’s annoying. Not in the bad way– he’s just that type of friend that constantly calls you when he wants to hang out, or endearingly keeps poking your sides when he wants your attention in a crowded place. He’s the one that keeps teasing you even though you’ve had enough. That can get a little overwhelming at times, sure, but in times like these, Yangyang chooses to put his annoyingness for a good cause. 
He keeps lightly kicking you under the table, a childish pout sitting at his lips. “Tell me.”
“I’m alright,” you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I promise I won’t tell anyone. Come on! We’re practically best friends at this point, and we all need someone to listen to us at times. Spill it out,” he keeps nagging, adding a victorious poke to your hand sitting at the top of the table as well, as a bonus. 
Your eyes point towards one of the many plants in the café, the nervousness making you slowly crack the knuckles of your hands. “Fine,” you sigh, looking him dead in the eye, “but promise me you won’t tell anyone else, because god knows what they would tell me if they knew. I trust you with this, so don’t be a dick about it, okay?” 
A quick nod of his head and a fast nestle in his seat after, you’re taking a deep breath in and biting on the inside of your cheek as you open your mouth to speak. 
“So… There’s something worrying me… about Hyunho.”
Yangyang almost hears a siren ring inside of his ears, red flashing in front of his eyes as he nods, trying to gain his composure. Of course the problem is your boyfriend. If there wasn’t a problem with your boyfriend, Yangyang wouldn’t be here right now, sitting with you in a café. That’s the thing– you’re slowly starting to lose time for anyone else. Not that Yangyang’s salty about it… 
“What is it?”
“We were supposed to hang out yesterday,” you peep, averting your gaze from him, “and sometimes he comes late, that’s fine… I’ve gotten used to it by now, but… yesterday, he didn’t come at all. I tried texting him, ringing him, I tried everything, but he’s just ignoring me,” you ramble, a worried undertone coating your words as you chew on your bottom lip and look for comfort in Yangyang’s eyes, “and I know he’s fine because he sent out a stupid Snapchat streak this morning.”
Yangyang finds it hard to look for words that would comfort you right now. 
Sure, he hates that guy with everything he has in him, he hates his new haircut and he hates his voice when he hears him call you baby, but even with coming late, dropping out of college, lying about living alone and being ignorant to your friends, Yangyang never thought it would go this far.
All this time, he just thought he was blowing it out of proportion because of his teenage jealousy. 
But now, when you’re clearly distressed because of his actions, he feels like the stupid plan he had in his mind back when he hung out with Renjun and Dejun isn’t as crazy anymore. If it’s gonna help you in the long run, he’s gonna do it– and not think about the consequences.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, chewing on his bottom lip, “I- I don’t really know what to say…”
“It’s fine,” you nod, “maybe I’m just too dramatic-”
“Oh don’t you dare say that,” Yangyang cuts you off. There’s no way he would let you think that your emotions aren’t valid. “Actually, there’s- there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Panic flashes in front of your eyes. He would even say it’s okay for you to panic– with what he has to say next, he can only prepare for the worst outcome. You’re already becoming him to talk with a hesitant nod of your head, and he can’t back out now, can he? 
“I… He’s cheating on you, Y/N.”
The world falls silent after his words. Your lips part in shock, your eyes get glossy. Yangyang can’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. Did he really get this desperate? Is he really such a dick?
Surely, he can’t be worse than the guy that left you hanging for a whole day… right?
“Are you- are you joking? Is this serious? Don’t prank me right now, Yangyang,” you mourn out, your bottom lip trembling. 
What else is there to say? With just an ever-so-honest nod of his head, Yangyang confirms the lie he made up in his sick, twisted mind– all because he can’t stand to look at you with someone else that isn’t him. 
What’s even worse is that even though you’re in pain, he secretly enjoys the way you curl into his chest when you cross the distance between the two of you and sit next to him in the booth, quietly sobbing into his shirt. 
He really fucked up, didn’t he?
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vii. he says he loves you, but it's all an act
“You did what?” Dejun stares at him in disbelief, mouth apart in shock. 
The thing is, Yangyang can’t deal with his emotions alone. Also, when he does something bad, like, really really bad, there’s no way he can deal with the despair that comes with the unbelievably heavy weight of guilt alone. Liu Yangyang also loves to overshare and complain. He won’t miss his once-in-a-lifetime chance now. 
His first victim? His own roommate– Xiao Dejun. He could go to Renjun, but he figures that might be too dangerous. Dejun doesn’t know you too well, so he’s not that interested in the whole case, and Yangyang���s quite sure that the fierce short boy would ignite like a match if he told him what he did, and even though he’s tiny, he can do a lot of damage. Yangyang can’t afford to get a black eye from Renjun. God knows, he might get it from Hyunho instead.
“Yeah, well-”
“Are you out of your mind? Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?” Dejun bursts out, even forgetting to pause the TV show he’d been watching when Yangyang came into his room. 
“I didn’t think it was a good idea, per se, I just thought… I-” he mumbles, shooting his arms into the air in defeat, “I was just trying to do the good thing!”
Dejun looks at him with stone cold eyes. The laughing track coming out of the laptop’s speakers does nothing to lighten up the situation; Yangyang feels chills run down his spine as the reality of everything slowly sinks and his hands turn ice cold with misery.
“No, Yangyang,” Dejun shakes his head.
Raising up his eyebrows, Yangyang blinks at his roommate. “...what, no?”
“You weren’t trying to do the good thing here, you were just doing it for yourself,” Dejun mutters, sighing. There’s disappointment coating his words and Yangyang can’t believe how scolded and defeated he feels under the weight of his roommate’s words. He doesn’t take them seriously most of the time, so this argument only proves that he should really reflect on his actions. 
“How could I be doing it for myself? It’s not my relationship we’re talking about,” Yangyang rambles, shaking his head in disapproval.
“Yeah, and that’s the thing. It’s not your relationship, so why are you acting like it is? It’s not your place to lie about someone, however shitty they might be as a person, just to get them to break up! Again, you didn’t do this for her, you did this for yourself!” Dejun says, finally closing the laptop shut so the background noises don’t disturb the seriousness of the conversation. 
Yangyang feels as if he is being scolded by his teacher for cheating on his exam. It feels even worse, to be exact– and he didn’t think there could be a bigger humiliation than that.
“What do I gain from this, then? If I’m doing it for myself, as you keep repeating,” Yangyang rolls his eyes in irony, chuckling at the whole situation. If it’s getting to him, he won’t let it show to Dejun. For all he knows, he didn’t care until now, so what’s changed?
Shaking his head, the older boy rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to see them together anymore, and that’s enough for you. At least your little, jealous heart will be happy now.”
“I’m not-”
“Yangyang,” Dejun cuts him off, like many times before, “do you really think nobody noticed by now?”
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viii. 'cause I'm better than him, just saying
Sitting around in the park, his friends chatter away as he’s lost in thought and picks at the skin of his cuticles. Ryujin and Lia try to get his attention by talking about the new anime they’ve been watching, but there’s no use as his unfocused eyes only go through them and the smile he offers them is nowhere near an honest one. Renjun tries to drag him into a conversation by gossipping about Hendery and Yuna’s strange, but blossoming relationship, but he only chuckles at the news as his eyes drift away into the distance.
You’re not around– much like many times before, hidden away in the shade with Hyunho– but this time, Yangyang feels as if he’s the reason why you didn’t pay them a visit. It only takes a few days, hell– maybe even hours– to find out that he’s been lying, and the moment you get ahold of this information, it’s all going to get even harder for him. 
Pointing his gaze towards his beaten-up converse, he plucks the grass from its place under his body and twirls the stems between his fingers, head lost in all the possible scenarios that could occur when he sees you next.
You could slap him. He would even dare to say that he deserves it; he doubts he’d be mad at you if you tried to beat him up and curse at him in front of everyone. Maybe the shame would outdo the great mistake he’s made.
You could scream at him. Truth be told, most of the possible outcomes include you screaming or cursing at him. You’re not even a violent person, but he guesses there’s no other reaction that could be the outcome of this whole situation, and he doesn’t even blame you for that.
Because Dejun is right. He did it for himself. 
There was no way he could help you with this, in any way, shape or form. All he did was cause you pain. 
“Yangyang?” a voice above him calls his name, causing him to look up. His heart beats wildly in his chest, heat rising to his face in anxiety; you look at him with stern eyes and lips pursed into a thin line. “Can we talk?”
Nodding, he stands up and follows you a few meters away from your group of friends, ignoring their excited waves and questions of how you’ve been and what’s up. Yangyang feels like he’s nearing his death– and from how fast his heart is beating, it could very well mean he’s close to the end by a heart attack– you stand in the shade of another tree (the one you always hang out under with your boyfriend), crossing your hands at your chest.
“What’s up?” he asks, voice low and full of shame. Even if you had no idea, now is the time you’d find out– he would gladly tell you everything, if it meant you wouldn’t get mad at him for it. That’s not how the world works, though, and so he awaits your outburst, looking like a scared dog with its tail hidden in guilt.
“Why did you lie to me?” you ask. Your voice is steady. He would even go as far as saying that you practiced this conversation with yourself in front of the mirror– you’re not a coward though, he is, and the reality must be miles away from this statement. You’ve always been good at getting your point across– no circling around the topic, edging towards the point. You go straight for it, ready for the battle. That’s what Yangyang’s liked about you perhaps the most.
“I can explain-”
“Well, that’s why I’m asking, isn’t it?” you chuckle under your breath, the bossy attitude very much in its place. 
“I- I kind of panicked? In a way? All I tried was to protect you,” he desperately gets out, sweating under your gaze. 
“Panicked?” you repeat, disbelief shining in the tone of your voice. “You lied to me about my boyfriend cheating on me because you panicked? Yangyang, I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid I’m not quite following,” you furrow your brows at him, your sentences worthy of a lawyer’s degree.
“Look,” Yangyang sighs, pinching the skin at the bridge of his nose in hopelessness, “I couldn’t stand looking at you two together. He’s not being a good boyfriend to you, Y/N, and it hurts me to see how you get treated, when you deserve so much more!” 
“That’s not for you to say!” you argue back, the scene already nearing the images he had in his brain. 
“Well, who else was supposed to say it! No one cares as much as I do!”
“Yangyang!”
“That guy keeps lying to you, he keeps arriving late! Hell, he makes you pay all the time. You didn’t even know him well before you started dating him. Did he remember your anniversary?” he asks, the empty look in your eyes being enough of an answer to him, “See? Thought so. You never hang out with us anymore, he always ignores us… He stood you up and ignored you for multiple days, Y/N, for god’s sake!”
He feels the eyes of everyone on his back right now, the tone of his voice louder than he intended it to be. There’s no time to feel embarrassed, though– not when he’s trying to save his relationship with you. 
“And so what, Yangyang? That’s not your shit to worry about,” you shake your head, “you hurt me. You really hurt me with your words, you know that?” 
“It was necessary!” he grunts, helplessly shaking his head at your stance.
“You hate to see me with him that bad? That’s not what a good friend does, Yang,” you chew on the inside of your cheek, waiting for the last arguments that could come out of his mouth.
His heart shakes in his throat, palms sweating as his brain turns into autopilot. Fuck it, he thinks; he can’t save this anymore, so he might as well go all out. Maybe then, you’ll understand where he’s coming from better. Maybe you won’t hate him as much.
“Fuck, Y/N, that’s because I don’t want to be your friend! I could treat you so much better than he ever did.”
He doesn’t know what he expected with his words. He doesn’t know what reaction he wanted to get after his unprompted confession. Truth is, he didn’t think this far– even his wildest imaginations and scenarios he made up in his head never got to the point of him breaking and telling you how he feels. 
Also, he never wanted it to sound as ‘second lead in a cliche, overplayed drama’ as it did. What is he, a Shawn Mendes song?
The reaction you give him kicks him in his gut, slaps him across the face, hits him with a full fist right into his nose. This is where a fragment of his imagination comes true. He could even be a psychic, who knows.
“Fuck you,” you spit, tongue poking the side of your cheek in pure anger, “you’re so, so unbelievably selfish.”
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ix. when you change your mind, I'll be waiting
Days that come after are not much different from the weeks before. You still don’t talk to him or his friends, but the reason behind your silence is completely different now. It’s not you being busy; you no longer send an incoherent train of messages into the group chat with apologies of not knowing about the hang-outs sooner. Now, it’s because Yangyang stabbed you in the back and when he goes down, all your friends go down together. Not willingly, of course– you just knew all along that no one is happy with your new boyfriend. And that is enough of a reason for you to stay mad. 
Yangyang feels numb. Drifting apart from your friends is natural. You can’t really do anything against it– bending yourself over for something that is no longer beneficial for both of the parties is never an okay thing to do. Sometimes, you just have to watch that person slowly disappear out of the reach, walk away from your life forever. 
Drifting apart from your friends is natural, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t hurt. 
It hurts. It hurts so much that Yangyang chooses not to think about it any longer, because the truth is, you weren’t just his friend– you were his first love, as silly as it might sound.
Sure, he had crushes before– like on that girl in kindergarten or on that girl in middle school; the small devil that set his hair on fire in Chemistry class. It was never quite the same as the feelings he had for you, though. The nervousness and anxiety disappeared out of his body, the butterflies in his stomach not as panicky as with other girls in his life before. You made him feel calm. He didn’t have to worry about what you’d think of him when he was truly himself around you. He didn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not– he knew you liked him as he is, and that always made him so, so uncontrollably happy. He would even say he was your favorite; over time, you started acting so– but when that place in your life was suddenly taken out of his hands, with no time to prepare, he was left empty-handed and confused.
He was so, so fond of you. At times, it looked even simple– that’s how he knew he was in love with you. Love was supposed to be simple, after all, wasn’t it?
He spends his days at the café. It’s been a few weeks since you appeared at the door with your boyfriend, getting iced coffee together and then disappearing once again, on another one of your usual dates. He does his work on autopilot, his head somewhere completely else. 
Exams pass as fast as they come. He is surprised with himself to still get a decent grade– although he thinks he would’ve done better if you studied with him instead. The trip to the McDonald’s with your friends and Dejun to celebrate the semester ending seems empty without your cheerful voice filling the room and he can’t get himself to focus on a single word that comes out of his friends’ mouths. 
The last day of school is filled with emptiness in his stomach. It’s not that he’s not excited for summer break, but something tells him that it won’t be as exciting if you’re not there to drag him to the beach, or watch him skate around the town and fall down and scrape his knees. He was the main character of your Instagram stories last summer, and he was proud of being so. Not that he gained any new followers out of it, no– he just enjoyed the world seeing that he spends a lot of time with you.
Poking the food around on his plate, his head is hung low and his brows are furrowed into a worried expression. He doesn’t like sitting alone at lunch in the cafeteria, for it’s always filled to the brim with people and it makes him feel lonely, but all his friends are in class or at home, still, waiting for the last class of their semester to start after lunch break. He’s left alone– he’s quite getting used to it, though, so when the sound of a plate hitting the table across from him startles him from his slumber, he’s more shocked than ever before.
Looking up, he’s met with the state of you. It’s a sight that shakes him down to his core. Truth is, he wasn’t used to seeing you face to face anymore; not saying that he forgot what you looked like. He spent countless hours stalking you on social media, after all. Now, though, you look different than before– your hair looks less taken care of and your outfit looks like you put less effort into, resulting in wearing oversized clothing rather than carefully matched pieces completed with accessories. Today, you look simple, yet, even that was enough to make Yangyang’s eyes wide and lick his lips in anticipation. 
“Can I sit here?” you ask. Yangyang feels himself eagerly nod, putting the fork in his hand away, as if to brace himself for the impact of your words. 
Your body slungs itself into the seat in front of him, placing your arms onto the table and nestling a little in your place. Yangyang would even go as far as calling you nervous, from how your eyes hesitantly meet his figure and kick your leg up and down under the table. 
“What’s up?” he breaks the silence, because he thinks that if you sit with him without a word much longer, he’s going to explode.
Shrugging, you tightly smile. “Not much. How did your exams go?” 
The question catches him off guard. He surely didn’t expect such causality from you, after everything that’s happened between the two of you. “They went well,” he shrugs, “yours?” 
You nod, the smile on your face growing even tighter. “Yeah, they went okay, I guess…” you mumble, “could have gone better, but… given the circumstances I was in, I’m glad I could even focus on writing the answers down, to be honest.”
Yangyang wants to ask you what happened. Surely, the fight you had couldn’t be the reason why you couldn’t focus on your exams. You were the top of the class, the best student; you never had any problems with studying. There must have been something else going on that made you be out of it. He almost opens his mouth to ask you about it, when you cut him off and ask another question, desperately wanting to keep up with the conversation. 
“Do you have any plans for the summer?” your eyes light up when you finally open your mouth and take a bite of the food sitting on your plate, waiting for your friend to answer as you chew on the sandwich. 
“...not really,” he shrugs. He had plans before; he wanted to take you to the beach again, but this time, you’ll have a sandcastle contest. He also wanted to go camping, and there was this latino party scheduled for the fourth week of the break he wanted to take you to. He also wanted to invite you to his hometown, because his mother wanted to see you. And somewhere along the way, he wanted to confess to you… but that plan clearly failed. 
“Hm,” you hum, swallowing before you speak again, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t teach me how to skate this summer. You know, since I was too scared to try last year.” 
Yangyang hesitantly meets your eyes again, licking his lips with nerves. What is it with you suddenly having plans for the summer with him? For all he knew, you never wanted to see him again after his blatant lie a few weeks ago. 
“But that’s gonna have to wait a few weeks. I… I have to go home to visit my mum. She’s been on and on about how I never come home nowadays, and that I should just spend the summer break at home this time and that I need to get out of this town, but I…” you trail off, shaking your head, “all I’m saying is, I’ll meet you in three weeks. And then, we can do whatever you want.”
He stays quiet. The whole conversation is strange, the situation making his stomach twist and anxiety sit in his bones. This is not how he’s used to feeling next to you, so it’s all new to him, but just the fact that you’re talking to him, seemingly not mad anymore, is making him fill with courage as he moves closer to the edge of the seat and cracks his knuckles, preparing himself. 
“Y/N…” he trails off, in a sudden loss for words.
“You were right,” you get out, a tight smile plastered on your face, “I broke up with him,” you say, nodding to prove your point. 
Nothing in the world could prepare him for the words that came out of your mouth. He’s not even sure how he should feel– does he get happy? Does he feel sorry for your failed relationship? How does a man, who’s coincidentally, still kind of in love with someone, feel when that someone breaks up with their toxic boyfriend? 
Is it relief? Joy? He’s not quite sure. 
Perhaps he hasn’t grown enough as a person to feel worry for you at first. After a few heartbeats, though, it settles in, and he finds himself uttering out the words.
“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N.”
“Yeah, it’s- it’s okay. I should have listened a long time ago. But that’s not important right now-”
“What happened?” he asks. The change is sudden, for sure. You seemed like you would never break up with that dude, no matter how many valid arguments you got from your friends. So what changed your mind? 
“He cheated on me,” you say, chuckling a little in irony, “maybe you should be a psychic, or something, because with how accurate your predictions are, you would have a secure place on the market. Maybe I’ll get you tarot cards for your birthday, so we have more to work with-” you ramble on and on, until he doesn’t compose himself and cut you off, saving you from your misery.
“I’m sorry Y/N. You didn’t deserve that.”
You bite on your cheek, nodding. He must admit, you look down. Yes, he did want you to break up with Hyunho, but never in a million years would he really want you to hurt as much as actually finding out that he cheated on you. 
“Thanks, Yangyang,” you mutter, smiling– except this time, the smile looks genuine, “so… we don’t have to talk about all of that. Let’s just… leave it in the past,” you giggle, taking another bite of your sandwich.
Your friend nods, suddenly feeling lighter. The weight of shattering the friendship you two had is no longer sitting on his shoulders, and although it’s shitty, he’s glad he has you back. He never knew just how much you could miss someone until he didn’t get to the point of missing the one person he claimed to be the most important to him. 
“I had a few plans for summer, actually,” he says, smiling, “we could do them all after you arrive.”
“Really?” you light up, kicking him lightly under the table. 
“Yeah! I wanted to go to the beach, since you like it that much.”
“You don’t even have to plan that, you already know I’m dragging your ass over there every third day of the summer,” you laugh.
“And we could go camping,” he mentions, “with everyone. I know Renjun has a tent he could lend us, and Dejun is learning how to play the guitar recently, so we can exploit him a little and invite him just so he can play some tunes while we start the bonfire,” he grins.
“Amazing. Anything else?”
“Hmm…” he searches in his brain, the schedule he made in his phone a few months ago opening in front of his eyes as a hologram, “there’s a latino party the week after you come back.”
“I hate dancing…” you mourn out, seeing him laugh at you.
“That’s not true!”
“It totally is.”
“Well then, I don’t care. I’m dragging you with me, because there’s no way you will get through this summer without seeing that those hips don’t lie,” he giggles, suggestively wiggling in his seat, making you burst out with laughter.
“Okay,” you nod, rolling your eyes playfully at your friend. Something in the air suggests that you both missed this– useless ideas shared at the lunch table, careless laughter flowing through the space. It’s like the universe is back aligned again, because you two are in each other’s lives, content with each other’s company. “Any other plans that need mentioning?”
“Well…” Yangyang starts, the checklist in his phone app he made before you started dating your ex boyfriend materializing in his thoughts, the last paragraph loud and clear in his mind. 
4. confess or whatever; it says at the very bottom. Yangyang despises that he remembers it so clearly. 
“We’ll see. I’m sure I’ll come up with something,” he says, seeing you smile widely at him, finishing the last bite of your sandwich. 
Standing up from your place, he follows you as you escape the cafeteria. The hot air outside slaps both of you in the face, but neither of you care as you bathe in the sunlight, enjoying the first day of summer break together. You’re leaving for three weeks, and Yangyang’s sure he’ll miss you; but the few days are nothing against the weeks of silence he got from you when he messed up in the past. He’s sure he can live through it. At least now, he’s sure you’re coming back.
“I’m excited to spend the summer with you all,” you say when you sit outside. 
“Me too,” he smiles. The sun hits his eyes, making him squint, but even that can’t make him hate the feeling of incoming summer that visits him with a promise of adventure.
And when you put your head on his shoulder, relaxed and comfortable, looking up to meet his eyes with eyes full of familiar glimmer, Yangyang almost promises to himself to confess to you again, when the time is right and you’re both ready.
Who knows. It might even work next time.
501 notes · View notes
btsmosphere · 2 years
Note
hello :DD i saw your drabble game was up and i just couldn’t resist!!
may i ask for jungkook x reader ( she / her prns or gender neutral!), mafia/gang au, e2l, treating an injury and “what happened to you?” “where did you get that?”
thank you so much! i love your work and can’t wait to see what you do with this if you choose to work on it! <33
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~summary: Close enough to touch, far enough never to dare. But Jungkook knows you well enough to know something isn’t right. And that locket the new player is wearing? Isn’t his. Will this be what it takes to break the distance you keep with Jungkook? ~pairing: jungkook x reader ~angst, fluff, comfort, enemies to lovers, mafia!au ~word count: 3k ~rating: pg13 ~warnings: violence, alcohol, blood, injury
~a/n: thank you!! you’re so sweet🥰 I’m sorry this has taken more than a week since the last request I posted but as you can see, it’s also longer than a drabble! srsly, the moment I saw this one in my inbox, I was thrilled. it’s like this prompt was made for me haha. the biggest problem I had was not making it too much like Flame on Water, but I’m pleased with what I came up with! I hope you enjoy it too!💜
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Jungkook’s eyes flitted in your direction the moment you walked in.
The bar was dark, filled with people, but it was like he could sense you in spite of the hum of chatter and low music fighting for his attention in this atmosphere. Fingers circling the rim of his glass, he eyed you as you crossed the threshold.
Your little acquaintance with Jungkook began some time ago. But there had been no friendly introductions; you had had a knife to the throat of one of his members and the next thing you knew, you were being pressed against the ground with Jungkook at your back.
Over time, you had proved to be quite a match for each other. Just as your gangs skirted around each other, testing boundaries, winning and losing skirmishes for territory, the two of you were seemingly in orbit of the other. One way or another, you would always end up toe to toe, a constant challenge – or, perhaps, annoyance – to the other.
Tonight may be no different. Your eyes locked as you passed his table. Always close enough to touch, but too wise to move until the time was right.
In your line of work, you had to settle for a cool distance with the enemy. After all, you knew that while you were capable of taking him down, the opposite was also true. And either action would invite more conflict that your gangs’ tentative hostility could bear.
You approached and Jungkook sat back, anticipating your arrival. Neither of you would dare make a move in here, you knew that. But it was always fun to flirt with danger.
His smirk grew, a brow cocked as he waited for you to bite first. A simple ‘what are you looking at, Jeon?’ was enough for a spark.
Instead, your expression darkened.
“Not tonight, Jeon.”
Without even staying to hear a response, you kept your head down and moved past.
Jungkook frowned, leaning forwards to catch a glimpse of you, melting into the hubbub of this bar. Something was off.
For the brief moment he could, he scanned your form. He could be imagining it, but were you limping? If you were, you hid it well. In any case, you were gone too soon for him to be sure.
Still, his eyes lingered. He swallowed down a growing unease. This wasn’t like you – but then, why should that mean anything to him? Better still, he should revel in this. To have you in such a sour mood, something must have happened in favour of his gang. And at the expense of you.
He pretended that made him feel better.
But Jungkook had no time to spare thinking of you. Why he would ever want to was a concern in itself.
He was here for a reason. And that reason was crossing to the bar right now.
The man was alone, but Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough to rule out the possibility of anyone keeping an eye from the crowd. This was a new player in town, Ilwoon, but wasn’t someone Namjoon was keen to put in the ground straight away. He was clearly smart, having gained connections before trying to emerge as a powerful figure.
Jungkook had been given instructions for a hassle-free discussion and deal, but he took that with a pinch of salt. They didn’t know much about this guy, and it was Jungkook’s job to show him they weren’t going to be pushed around easily.
Still, he approached with a decidedly cool exterior, letting nothing slip in his expression.
“Two Manhattans.” The order confirmed to Jungkook that this was in fact the right man. His voice was rough, a contrast to the fine trimmed haircut he sported.
Allowing a cordial smile onto his face, Jungkook seated himself beside the newcomer while the bartender busied herself.
“Nice evening,” Jungkook muttered off-hand, “busy.”
Ilwoon bristled, clearly not sure what to make of the smalltalk. But a moment later, a smile bloomed on his face. Jungkook didn’t like it at all, but made sure not to flinch.
“Good place to end a long day,” the man said.
Their drinks slid across the counter, Jungkook watching the other take a sip first, taking note of the way his dark eyes crawled over the occupants of the bar. Like he owned the lot.
Taking a sip too, Jungkook could pass the disgusted curl of his lips off as a response to the burn of alcohol. About to resign himself to a tense but necessary conversation, he turned his eyes back to his drinking partner.
Jungkook’s hand tightened around his glass, not lowering it to the tabletop. Frozen, he stared.
Ilwoon lowered his arm, revealing a charming red pendant which was just visible around his shirt buttons. Finishing his own drink, the man noticed Jungkook’s staring and frowned, shifting in his seat. A small flash of red bounced from the jewel at the movement.
It was beautiful. Jungkook had always thought so. But that was just the problem.
“That isn’t yours.”
Raising his eyes fractionally, Jungkook finally met the man’s gaze with steel in his own.
Quirking a brow, that same repulsive smile flitted onto Ilwoon’s face.
“Told you I’d been having fun in this town,” the man shrugged, “now, shall we talk?”
Fast as a whip, Jungkook had sent his chair clattering to the floor as he sprung at the man, grabbing him roughly by his collar and sending him colliding with the bar.
Any previous noise dissipated, silence shooting through crowd place like a wave.
Jungkook didn’t even break the man’s gaze. One of the glasses slowly rolled off the table, smashed loudly on the floor.
No one moved.
Holding his stance, Jungkook’s only move was to tighten his grip, drawing closer to the man.
“For someone in your position, I would think you’d want to play nice,” he hissed.
Despite the way his feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor and his breath grew shallower, the other man narrowed his eyes, spitting back with vitriol.
“No honour among thieves, I thought. This shouldn’t be your concern.”
“You’re going to tell me who is and isn’t my concern?” Jungkook all but yelled, shaking him.
“I never touched one of yours!”
“They don’t belong to you either,” Jungkook growled. His spare hand reached up, just below the one holding his foe, to grab the locket.
It was true that it was nothing to do with bangtan. That his actions now would spark rumours of some weakness, some compromise. That he need not be interested in the fate of anyone other than the boys he called family.
But Jungkook didn’t recall seeing this around your neck earlier.
He tore it off. Releasing the man and leaving him panting, leaning against the counter, he stalked away without looking back.
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The thin metal chain felt heavy in Jungkook’s fist.
Falling fast and heavy, his shoes clattered up the stairs. If Ilwoon had any sense, he would be long gone already, but he was a long way down Jungkook’s list right now.
The bouncer nodded him through instantly, Jungkook not even sparing time to look at her.
While this bar was supposed to be a neutral place for gangs (something he would certainly have to explain if the owner got wind of his little stunt downstairs), many of them frequented the place. With the absence of violence came somewhere for meetings, perhaps the only spot this side of bangtan’s territory where Jungkook could brush shoulders with enemies without trading blows.
At the moment, he was rather closer to shoving them as he carved a path through the crowd. The top floor was solely for those in his… profession. He had no doubt you had been heading here when he saw you earlier.
Emerging from the dense group by the bar, he quickly scanned the tables, ruling each one out.
Chewing his cheek, he exhaled harshly through his nose, turning his head erratically. You were nowhere in sight.
There was only one place left.
Walking purposefully past the tables, he pushed through another door. The bathrooms were here, four gender neutral ones lining the corridor.
Toeing open the nearest, he peered inside. It was empty, as was the lockable cubicle inside. Crossing the hall in one stride, he tried the next with the same results. The third, however-
You eyes snapped up, meeting his in the mirror just before you whirled around with a gasp, straightening your top.
Jungkook’s brow creased, gaze lingering even though you were now totally covered by your turtleneck. Once again, it had been too quick to be sure, but-
“What happened to you?”
Jungkook’s intense gaze met yours as he stepped inside, the door falling closed behind him. He didn’t miss your guarded stance, the way your eyes flickered to the exit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jeon,” you replied tersely.
Turning back to the mirror, you leaned over the sink to make a show of inspecting your hair. As if you couldn’t care less about his invasion.
But much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook may know you more than most people. Despite your… situation, it was hard to keep secrets and emotions at bay when your lives revolved around pushing the other, whether it be in a physical fight or in tactical play. Even those in your own circle were kept at a further distance. Trust wasn’t exactly an abundant resource in your world.
You just hoped the amount of times Jungkook had seen you hurt, sometimes from his own doing, wouldn’t pay off now. You knew he was still watching you.
He ground his teeth, then looked down at something.
“What’s this then?”
Turning back to him in irritation, you opened your mouth, only to freeze like that when you saw the pendant dangling from his fingers. Your father had given you that, a symbol of your belonging to his empire just before he died. While many of his members believed you weren’t fit to be with them, it reminded you they wrong.
You always wore it.
Until…
“Where did you get that?”
“What happened to you?”
Jungkook repeated his question rapidly in response to your own. All it prompted was more silence. But he had watched your unbothered air crack in front of him the moment he showed you the locket – something was wrong.
“Listen, Jungkook,” you spoke low, trying not to betray your shaking voice, “I’ve had quite enough for today. If you want to add to that, go ahead. Just tell the cleaners on your way out.”
Your words jarred Jungkook. Reminded him of all the reasons you would expect him to be here, and with good reason. A startling realisation of how far his feelings seemed to have strayed from the familiarity of your rivalry.
He took a breath, horrified. Expecting you to laugh any second, or even kick him in the face.
But you just waited.
“What did he do to you?” he pressed, taking a step.
He jolted to a stop the next second when you actually stepped away from him, backing against the sink.
“You know Ilwoon?”
“I hate the bastard, but yes,” Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth, “care to tell me why he had this?”
You rolled your eyes.
“What do you think?”
“Is it the reason there’s blood in the sink?”
“Well done, Sherlock,” you bit, “don’t you think you could save your gloating for later?”
“He hurt you.”
You smirked drily.
“Are you just bitter because you never managed?”
He stared in disbelief. How were joking about this?
You still stared defiantly up at him, arms folded over your chest.
His next words came as little more than a breath.
“Let me see.”
You didn’t move.
“I’m sorry?”
He cleared his throat, suddenly hesitant to meet your eyes.
“Let- let me see. I can help.”
You were silent for so long that Jungkook looked back up at you, finding you still staring at him like he was crazy.
Perhaps he was.
But eventually, you dropped your arms and stepped to one side with a soft huff.
Stepping forward, Jungkook laid the necklace quietly on the counter before reaching out. Just before his fingers touched the hem of the fabric, he looked back up for confirmation.
You took a breath. Somehow, this didn’t feel as strange as it should.
A small nod from you, and he gently lifted the material, a crease emerging between his brows.
Chewing your lip, you looked away. Still, you couldn’t help eyeing the damage in the mirror beside you. The wound wasn’t of too much concern, but the blood was certainly a sight to behold. Your cleaning had done nothing to improve it.
A slash ran across your side. He had poor aim, the knife striking your ribs which had deflected it, extending the cut around your side where it was hard for you to reach without having to contort and receive a warning blast of pain from the injured spot.
You couldn’t help the hiss that left you when Jungkook’s fingers brushed against it. Withdrawing instantly, he looked back to you.
“Sorry, go ahead,” you muttered, averting your eyes again.
Still, when he turned on the tap to wet his hand, it returned cautiously, barely touching if he could help it. For the odd time he aggravated the wound, you simply bit your tongue.
Turning your eyes towards yourself in the mirror, you watched blankly. What should have been the most bizarre scene felt all too easy. Jungkook’s gaze remained focussed, fixed on his hands as they were painted red with your blood before it swirled away down the drain.
His hands left you then, prompting you to whip around in panic. Where was he going?
All you were met with was a low chuckle, a lopsided smile falling onto Jungkook’s lips. He stayed where he was, shrugging off his jacket.
“What are you-?”
Your question died on your lips as he bunched it up, bending slightly to tend to your wound again. Lost for words, you simply raised your arm slightly to give him better access as he pressed the fabric against your side.
Part of you felt bad for what was clearly an expensive jacket – the material wasn’t scratchy at all, barely irritating your injury.
“It should be treated properly,” he said.
“I’ll live.”
“I don’t doubt it. But… you’ll have someone look at it, right?”
You quirked a brow at him.
“So you can give me another one next week?”
“Of course not!”
His exclamation took you by surprise. Apparently, it did the same to him, both of you blinking at each other in the following quiet.
He sighed roughly, looking down to his shifting feet for a moment.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Why would I do that?”
Your protest was weak and you knew it. Your voice came out tired. The care Jungkook had just showed you left you caving to the very thing you had always tried to resist. But after today’s events, you just wanted to let your guard down and tell someone.
He didn’t even have to say anything else. You sighed, leaned back against the counter.
“The new guy wanted to meet up, talk business with our gang. I didn’t turn up expecting anything, but the moment he saw they sent me, he seemed to take that as a sign of weakness. Not a word of business, just him being a creep until he attacked me when I wasn’t having it.”
Kicking the tiled floor as you spoke, a bitter scowl took over your face. You were more than capable of taking on/quick enough to take on this stupid newbie, but the knife had really taken you by surprise.
“I shouldn’t have even given him the chance,” you cursed, “but when this happened, it threw me enough for him to grab me. He seemed to enjoy it. Like that necklace was a bleeding trophy.”
Jungkook’s expression of hatred mirrored your own.
When your eyes fell on the jewellery sitting on the side, his followed. Saying nothing, he reached for it, stepped behind you.
Instinctively, you turned, meeting his eyes as he came behind you in the mirror. The necklace glinted innocently in the light as he raised it above your head, fastening it out of sight at the nape of your neck.
His fingers only grazed your skin as he pulled away. And if he saw the bruises on your neck, he said nothing about them. He knew all too well how humiliating it could be to come out this side of what should have been an easy fight.
“He wanted discussions with bangtan as well,” Jungkook said, as if it was the most innocent thing in the world.
But his smirk in the mirror ignited hope in you again.
Spinning around to face him, you pretended not to notice just how close this brought you to Jungkook. You were no stranger to being a breath away from him, but it was a different experience now you weren’t trying to attack each other.
“You mean he’s been in contact with both of us?”
“Would have thought he’d be smart enough to know not to get between enemies. When our bosses find out he wants to play us like this I don’t think they’ll be too happy, do you?”
Like falling into your magnetic pull, Jungkook shifted closer still. A smirk was growing over your features, eyes glinting in the light.
Your gaze dropped slightly, a finger coming to rest on his chest. Looking up at him, you tilted your head playfully. This confidence fit you much better, more familiar than the weakness Ilwoon had inflicted on you.
“And what about how we found out?”
“I don’t think that should be of concern when he’s running for his life.”
And you fell together at last, all that time you had spent fighting fading in the work of an instant. The tongue that loved to cut you down now tasted so sweet as you indulged in his lips at last. How you had ever been able to resist, you didn’t know.
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Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts💜
For more mafia fun (and other stuff too!), here’s my masterlist
Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @un2-verse 
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poppyandzena · 11 days
Note
Honestly, how dare they use their familiarity with therapy terms to abuse other people. Theyll say it isnt abuse, but they know it is.
To stay anonymous in fear of her going absolutely nuclear on me as well, all Ill say is I have experience and work in the same field as her. If shes going to pull out her "Im a therapist" card to act as if she knows better than all of us, then let it be known someone who works in the same field finds her behavior abhorant and I suspect she KNOWS it. Ive heard her speak, she is extremely smart, and I believe she knows exactly what she has done.
All of her texts to Noeh/Max are fishing for an "I love you" response when she clearly told Poppy no. She told you no Poppy. You know that. You just couldnt handle it.
I understand that abandonment melange can feel incredibly, incredibly painful. I have been in a similar situation as you Poppy. I know it sucks when the person you are unhealthily infatuated with doesnt love you. Your limerance for Noeh was painful as fuck, I know as much. That pain is coming from your own limerance, not Noeh. Your heart was so set on a relationship that never existed no matter how much you tried to force it. I've had issues with limerance myself, I know that it can feel like life or death and can make you want to do anything to just make the relationship fantasy you want a reality.
And you and I BOTH KNOW that STILL DOES NOT give you the right to do all of these awful things youve done. It was your job to work on yourself and step back and give Noeh the space she asked for. It was your job to reregulate yourself. It was your job to use techniques to stop catastrophizing.
So much damage has been done so far, especially to yourself by yourself at this point. Your peers have disassociated with you and you lost your job because of actions such as implying you would kill yourself if Noeh didnt love you in the way you thought you needed. Any therapist knows how manipulative that action is. You know. I know because you tried to mask it behind obfuscating therapy talk. I know you know this.
Even throughout all of this, and even though I condemn your actions, I still have sympathy for you in that it is obvious you are in an incredible amount of pain. If you want to heal you need to do the right thing and face your own limerance issues. Not being employed right now could be a blessing in disguise as it gives you time to step back and really work on yourself. I think if you take a break from this you will look back and see how many of your friends and peers who have disassociated with you were trying to help you by showing you your self destructive behaviors.
Its time to face the music. If it helps, Ive had infatuation with several unavailable people and the pain and negative behaviors only truely started to heal once I looked inward and faced a truth I was afraid of facing. That it was me. Once you do its not as painful as your brain would have you to believe.
A beautiful and insightful response. I always love when professionals put in their two cents here. You can feel the experience and knowledge simply through the prose. I've talked to mental health professionals as well and they were baffled Poppy was allowed to practice for so long. I will say Poppy was extremely lucky in her career based on the company she kept, but even that wasn't enough to prevent her behavior from causing consequences.
I've said this a few times. I wouldn't care if Poppy was a barista, or a janitor, or a marketing exec, or a rocket scientist. Those careers don't give you access to vulnerable individuals whom you are responsible for keeping alive. If you treat your child, your partner, your friends the way Poppy treats hers and you are a therapist? You are an unsafe practitioner. Full stop.
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imdoingsortagay · 1 year
Note
Dark! Political! Claire Debella who manipulates R to have her first time
39 Inexperienced Smut prompts
The first time
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The woman did have good intentions with you when she first met you, only wanting to take you under her wing to rise up the political ladder and be as great as she is. She didn't know when things changed between the two of you when it turned from professional to friendly to sexual as things got more intense.
" What do you mean you've never had sex, honey?" Claire asks you as she gives you more to drink, while you blush at the sheer mention of the word.
You had been grateful for the older woman when she took you under her wing as an " intern" in her office. Attending meetings with her, going to some island in Greece with her group of friends from college to give her company because the original person she had invited bailed and the woman offered you more money than you can think of to join along.
Now here the both of you were, in her room in Mile's massive as fuck mansion while the older woman encouraged you to drink out of the fancy Vodka bottle.
" I'm just waiting for the right time is all Miss Debella," you say as you drink more of the alcohol, head feeling floaty as the woman observes your every move. You ramble on about how you've always been nervous to do it for fear of rejection.
" “Will you let me be your first?” Claire casually asks you as she takes a sip of her wine, not failing to see you blush like crazy at the idea of fucking your boss.
" Miss Debella that's a -"
" Smart idea honey," she starts off," We've been in each other's lives for a year and a half, are comfortable with each other, not to mention I'd never break your heart".
" Miss debella I don't think-"
" Honey first of all it's miss Debella in public," she says while she pulls you into her lap, no shame in wanting to have you as close to her body as possible," in here you call me Daddy, got it?"
"I don't want to do that-"
" I think I know you better enough than to talk back to Daddy sweet girl," she pauses as she shoves two of her fingers in your mouth so you can suck on them," Daddy wants to be your first in bed, and while I'd rather hate to punish you, my sweet baby deserves to be in bed with a woman like me".
She was a pretty woman in your eyes, mean and cutthroat in public while she treated you with kindness and respect that you never got any time in life. Claire let's your mind go all over the place with the decision of sleeping with her for your first time.
Your mind runs wild trying to choose whether or not to sleep with the older woman. one part of your mind telling you to go for the idea of fucking her, the other giving you too many examples of how this can go wrong, and another telling you it's not a good idea in general.
Unfortunately with the alcohol running in your body, you whimper with Claire's fingers in your mouth, ready to have your first time with someone who you trust.
" I want you, daddy," You say while claire takes her fingers out of your mouth, holding in a groan as she hasn't even touched you yet and she's got you looking fucked out.
" Tell me again sweet baby," She repeats."
" I want you to be my first daddy," you tell her, mind going fuzzy with the vodka in your body.
Claire doesn't fail to place your body under her while she runs your hands other than your clothed body, ready to have you under her.
" I can't wait to take your innocence doll".
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8-bit-britt · 4 months
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It was 8 o'clock in the afternoon and this date isn't going well for Rocko. Once again Heffer set him up with another girl, without his approval, and he's sitting in a booth waiting for the girl to finish flirting with the waiter. Rocko then slowly snuck out of the booth, which where the waiter sat at now, and out of the restaurant. He took a sigh of relief, "This is the last time Heffer sets me up on a blind date."
He looked across the street to find a bar called "The Rainbow Bar". He does like Rainbows so maybe this place shouldn't be that bad. Rocko walked into the bar and looked around the scenery. It looked very nice and there's hardly any girls around that dressed flashy. All of a sudden he noticed a shirt that looked almost like his but pink. A yellow beaver, who sat by himself with his face resting on his hand, was wearing this and Rocko being Rocko. He walked up to the Beaver and tapped his shoulder.
"Sorry to bother you but I must say. That's a dashing shirt you're wearing."
The beaver looked at him amused, "Thanks I've had this shirt for a long time.". He then look down and chuckled, "Your shirt looks nice too it goes well with you.".
Rocko smiled, "Thank you. Mind if I sit next to you? I don't do well with large crowds.". The beaver pat the seat next to him, "Sure bud have a seat right here.". Rocko sat next to the beaver, "Thank you. I've never been here before it's very nice.".
"It's better than the morning because they only give out beer. Nighttime there's good alcohol that has more flavor.", The Beaver said while drinking what looks to be a tequila cocktail. "You mind if I take a sip of that?", Rocko asked while staring at the drink in curiosity. The beaver smirked and passed the drink to him, "Already making a move on me? I'm impressed.". The beaver watched as Rocko took a sip of the drink and chuckled at his face making a funny look.
"It's a little sour but I think it'll taste sweeter if we try it another way.", The Beaver said as he leaned close to him smirking. Rocko nodded, "Yeah. Maybe we can ask for some sugar and maybe it'll taste sweeter?". The beaver chuckled at his humor knowing that he's too naive.
About two hours and four cocktails later the two were laughing. "Are you serious? She tried to get you in bed with her?", the beaver asked while wiping a tear from his eye. Rocko nodded, face flushed and laughed, "Yes! And her husband asked if it was awful. I felt so bad for her so I had to tell him off. Few months later I was working as a receptionist at a Specialty Phone Operator, and I answered to one of her calls!". The beaver laughed and leaned on him for support due to laughing to hard, "Guess the man is really bad at pleasing his wife.". This made Rocko laugh even more and nodded in agreement.
"It was really awkward but we never spoke of it. But enough about me what's your love life like?", Rocko asked while he took another sip of the margarita. The beaver chuckled and sipped his as well, "Not as interesting as yours but what can i say? Not every relationship is good.". Rocko looked at him a bit concerned, "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?".
The beaver waved it off and stared at his glass, "Had to go through a break up today because Treeflower didn't feel the same way I've felt for her. She wanted us to stay as friends instead because she feels like I deserve better. I mean at least she didn't cheat on me or anything but... It did hurt that I can't love someone who loves me back. I thought I finally got the girl of my dreams, but I guess I wasn't the man of her dreams.". The beaver frowned and took another sip at his drink.
Rocko then took the beavers hand and looked straight into his eyes, "Well I think she's missing out on someone who's funny, smart, cute and amazing. You deserve love that's reciprocating. You deserve the moon and stars, if you're going to give anyone the world. You deserve to be treated like a king if you're gonna treat someone like royalty. If they can't see that you're worthy then that's their loss."
The beaver's eyes watered and looked away flustered, "Thanks Rocko. No one has ever said that to me before." Rocko smiled, "Well I'll say it again anytime you need it.". The beaver chuckled, "Asking me out already? I haven't even given you my number yet Rocko.". Rocko laughed, "Well can I have your number so we can hang out again?". The beaver smirked and took a pen and paper and wrote his number down. He then folded it up and leaned close to Rocko.
"I'll be waiting for that call tomorrow Rocky Road.", he whispered in his ear while slipping the paper in his shirt pocket. The beaver then left and Rocko watched confused. "Rocky Road?."
"Finally got yourself a boyfriend huh Rocko?", a familiar female voice said. Rocko turned around surprised, "Dr. Hutchison? What are you doing here?". "I work here. Bartending is my side job, gotta have some money on the side right?". Rocko nodded in agreement and finished his drink. Dr. Hutchison then took the finished drink and began cleaning it, "So who's that cute beaver you're with? You sure swept him off his feet after that romantic speech you gave.". Rocko looked at her embarrassed, "We're just friends and he just got dumped by his ex girlfriend.".
Dr. Hutchison smirked, "He was clearly flirting with you and checking you out Rocko. How did you not see those signs that he wants you?". Rocko grew more flustered and sputtered, "He. I uhh. I didn't know he was into me or anything I just thought he was being friendly!".
Dr. Hutchison laughed, "Well that's what happens when you're in a gay bar Rocko. You're going to get a lot of guys flirting with you.". Rocko looked at her shocked, "Gay Bar?!"
Dr. Hutchison shook her head laughing, "You never knew? This is the RAINBOW Bar. For gay guys or bisexuals to hang out in!". Rocko covered his face embarrassed and put down a tip for her.
Next Morning
Rocko woke up groggy in bed. He stretched and yawned while scratching his chest. He noticed something in his shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and read
###-###-#### Look forward to seeing you again Rocky Road~
-Norbert
Rocko grew confused but then remembered everything at the bar. He grew flustered and covered his face with the pillow. He then thought about the way Norbert smiled and laughed. Rocko smiled a bit, his ears even more red, and then grabbed his phone.
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I know you didn't just submit a cute fanfic this early in the morning ;_;
AAAAAAH AND YOU CAUGHT THE 'Popcorn Pandemonium' REFERENCE! Yes that was exactly my thinking on Norb's pink shirt catching his eye, that episode in particular. Also a very nice touch on the tie-in with Rocko loving rainbows as a reason for him to wander in an unfamiliar place, that was so obvious a connection and yet it slipped right by me. This was simply adorable <3
Yes I did make a Norbert crying gif just for this post cause how else could I react to this.
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paradoxcase · 10 days
Text
@wellhappybirthdaytomeiguess:
A couple things: Pash and Cam/Pal eliminated all the Merv Wing folks, so this is We Suffers branch. The security measures they put in place I think assumed ‘Sweet Simple Nona’ and not ‘Eldritch Monster Nona.’
I mean, I feel like they were expecting her to be an eldritch monster since they were still shooting her? Well, someone at some point said to disengage, but that was after they all lined up outside the room to shoot at her
There is definite debate over who is saying ‘Fool. You’re killing her.’ In this instance, I personally think the ‘her’ is Harrow (her body) and I think it’s said by some piece of Gideon still in there to the overarching Nona. But I am probably massively wrong.
Well, it makes me feel better that that question is never actually answered in the book, since I don't have any better idea, either
I think you are spot on about Nona’s tantrum reminds Pyrrha of. And if the body horror of the opening part of this chapter is any indication…oh my.
Yeah, back in Harrow the Ninth I wasn't sure what the Lyctors meant about Alecto being monstrous since by all accounts she seemed to have a regular human body and they seemed to think she was a regular human. But if she sometimes treated her body the way Nona treats her body here, I can see them saying that
‘Remembering her teeth’ simply means she’s about to start tearing flesh with them pretty soon, I think!
Oh, like since she's feeling like her body is foreign to her right now, she's only sometimes remembering what body parts she has that she can use to express her anger?
At its core, most folks think the cause of this third tantrum was Nona being chained/tied/zipped/locked up. And there are definitely a couple of characters who might reasonably be enraged about waking up tied to a chair or bed in a locked room. Interesting too that Nona holding the chair leg is described as holding it as if it were a broadsword if I recall correctly.
Hmm, it says she brandished it "like a sword", but I don't know if that's enough to indicate Gideon? I think Nona has said that she's familiar with Camilla's swords, right?
And yeah, I mean, I would probably freak out too, if someone ziptied me to some chairs. I can see why BOE maybe thought that was a smart idea since they tie them up when bringing them to the facility, too, but still.
@eye-lantern:
For the strength thing, to me it's like neural adaptation and hysteric strength. Our mind muscle connexion has a set strain that it can inflict on muscles and tendons to avoid us injuring ourselves. Powerlifters and athletes train to add muscle mass but also to make this limit adapt closer to their max strength, but it mostly stays below permanent damage. Some lifters clean break their tendons, tear muscle fibers by going to hard. After Eddy Hall lifted 500 p he fainted and had to be hospitalized. During that one biggest effort they deploy strength way beyond what a non lifter can exert per kg of muscle. Nona can go further, and absolutely destroy her body to create impossible proportional strength. Hitting a door with all you strength would do little because you hit under the strength you will shatter your bones at, but Nona's hits would render her unable to move. Because she has no instinct of preserving her own body.
Thanks, that's interesting! And Nona destroying her body this way still doesn't stop her because she has the Lyctor healing ability, so as long as she doesn't damage herself faster than her body can heal she can just keep going
@wellhappybirthdaytomeiguess:
yeah, I feel like we are really seeing a sort of mental breakdown of John here, at least a bit. Cassieopia was so right. You can save the world, or you can have revenge. You can't do both. John says he wants both, but I personally think he was so so so angry about the trillionaires that he couldn't think straight.
Yeah, it's making more and more sense that John is Gen Z - I feel like so many younger online spaces are sort of focused on people being angry and less on like, what can we do to help. Maybe that's just how it is when you're younger, but I don't remember being that angry when I was a teenager? And like, we had stuff to be angry about, that was back when Dubya was in office and doing the "War on Terror" because of the "WMDs" that turned out not to actually exist and so forth. But I feel like I see more irrational anger like this in some places now
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