#and so i think it's time to stop doubting myself being like 'not sure i can actually exist like this' i can. i do. and i'm not the only one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faithfromanewperspective · 2 months

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My name is Ariel. I'm the first ever person to be recognised to have a PDA profile (of autism) without autism. And I've realised recently how much the random stuff I do on here, is what I want to be doing for the rest of my life.

So much of my existence has been spent masking, hiding who I really am. And how could I not? When there is no representation of a neurotype anything like mine. When there is no category for it in people's heads either, and so the way they perceive me--and I see it in the way they communicate with me, in their language and behaviour--tends to be a facet, a side, a view of the real me that never shows the whole picture. It's exhausting, never really being known. Existing in fragments of myself to accommodate for people who genuinely do want to know me, but I don't have the language to explain the extent of who I am to them and as a result, the first thing they see becomes everything, in their mind. After that's happened it's hard to explain how it's always not been the case. How I didn't mean to deceive them. I didn't ask to be this way.

I relate to late-diagnosed autistics in this, the confusion of people around them as they unmask. But they often will say they get to fully be themselves in autistic spaces. I don't experience that relief. I feel the kinship of being neurodivergent, and I share the experience of hyperfixations and overload in the ways they present for me. But it's like communicating with neurotypicals, only different. I don't feel a sense of home. I'm like you in some ways. In other ways, not so much. Just different ways. And it's exhausting living in fragments. But this weird partial dual citizenship has superfinetuned my communication skills. My empathy. My ability to understand brains and experiences which are wildly different--and when I'm taking in all of this information all of the time, feeling all this empathy, shifting gears in my brain for every neurotype of every person I lose myself in the experiences of a little--it gets overwhelming. I get overloaded, yes, from the volume of it, and I wish I could relate to empaths more on these things, that I didn't have to expose myself to problematic takes to try. But I also see patterns and trends. I'm hyperaware of authority structures and power and hierarchies as a PDAer. And so some of these patterns concern me. But who can I debrief what I'm seeing, what I'm exposed to every day I interact with people (and I always am interacting with people) with? No one sees it from the vantage point I do. And it's exhausting to have to explain it.

But a silver lining, I guess, is the sense of purpose it brings. The sense that maybe little by little, I can be a part of putting some of the things I see right. There are many areas I'm passionate about, and I talk a lot about them on this blog. It's good to have the outlet. There are many ways of addressing them that I can see, and imagine playing out from my unique perspective, predict how every stakeholder will interact with them. See whether they work, or it's time to return to the drawing board. I'm a PDAer, I'm a natural problem solver. And every effort I make takes a weight off my chest. I'm processing things and doing what I can for them. I can rest knowing I've done my part. I'm not ignoring the injustice, the elephant in the room or in my vision, the thing that when I'm involved with gives me sensory overload (or the closest thing to it) and I'm so empathetic to the people involved with at all times, I can get overloaded from feeling how it must be for them.

I have to look after myself. Manage my energy. But it's hard, because the accounting formulas we're given don't work for me. Even common profiles of neurodivergence--I'm energised by novelty. By connection. By creativity, not by routine. I need each of the carefully constructed tasks in my routine to regulate me in order to be able to do the next, which will regulate me for the next and so on. It's a hard system to put together. I don't know anyone else who has to do the same. And I know a lot of people.

I think my neurotype only assists me with my biggest form of art, the main thing I want to do with my life. I like to joke that every urban planner/designer who graduated from my high school is a PDAer. I don't have a large sample space for that observation. But I'm usually right. We see the big picture. We care about justice and we're good at finding it among fake claims of it. We're natural problem solvers. We're empathetic artists. We're practical at our core. We hyperfocus. And perhaps most of all, we're communicators.

I've heard the main thing an urban designer is is a communicator. No wonder. I shuffle through information and perspectives like a deck of cards I'm trying to sort by colour, number, and shape. I match up people's opposing perspectives and I unpack their fears in front of me. And then I draw. I write. I compose melodies--anything to get this constant stream of ideas out of me and doing something productive. So of course I'm going to be standing up against power abuses in religion, unpacking every way this infiltrates into our lives and all of its impacts. Of course I'm going to dissect colonialism and present ways we can do better. Face and push through the fear that has us trying to lord over others without realising. Of course I'm going to reach out to anyone even vaguely like me that they might not have to be alone in it. I might not have to be alone in it as well. And of course I'm going to understand them perfectly.

Is it a skill? Sure. Is it a neurotype? Absolutely. It's myself, the 'me' I never understood how to be until I understood everyone else. Is it a disability? It disrupts any ability I have to do anything else I or anyone else might want me to do with my days. It tires me out. It overloads me in ways there aren't really any normalised ways to explain and I can't say no to it when I feel compelled to do something. It impacts my mental health. It limits me. But it's who I am. Why would I want to try to be anything else?

#neurodivergence #pda profile #name reveal i guess #personal mental health tag #silver studies urban design #silver bridges #even things i do like #punk christianity #it all fits in here #this is why I need to press on. keep working on how to be more me around everyone else. be honest. explain if necessary #but overall just stop hiding I guess. i don't need to defend myself. I do need to find people to connect with #also i don't think many people will but if you're like 'you can't have pda without autism' i have been officially recognised by leaders #in the field researching from a neurodivergent affirming perspective. who have told me they thought that til they met me #and so i think it's time to stop doubting myself being like 'not sure i can actually exist like this' i can. i do. and i'm not the only one #at least i don't think. even though we are rare #like does this mean autism criteria are too narrow? maybe. but i'm not the person who makes them what they are. i don't meet them

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cheekblush · 1 year

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not having any friends is truly heartbreaking

#i have no one to confide in or just simply hang out with #there's this concert i really wanted to attend but i have no one to go with and tickets are already sold out anyways #but the point is not having friends stops me from having fun experiences #sure you could argue that i could have fun experiences by myself but it's still not the same if you can't share it with someone #i went on a solo trip this summer and while it was liberating & enjoyable it was also incredibly lonely #i also went to a festival by myself & unfortunately it was horrible bc i got nauseous & it was scary being all alone #thankfully i got back to my hotel safely in the middle of the night but i definitely would've felt better & safer if i wasn't alone #i feel like i'm missing out on a lot of things bc i don't have friends & it's just so alienating bc i think smth is fundamentally wrong..#.. with me bc i don't have a single genuine friend while others have whole friend groups #this also makes me miss my ex best friend even more & i'm contemplating reaching out to her again...#i feel like a beaten dog that always comes back around no matter how badly i was treated bc i just want some love 😔 💔#like i was the one who ended things with my ex best friend bc i was tired of being treated like a doormat & constantly having my..#.. boundaries disrespected but now i'd rather have that back then have no friends at all which is awful i know 😭#my ex best friend also isn't a bad person but she hurt me a lot & at the end when things got really bad i think we were both not good for..#each other.. but now i'm reminiscing about all the wonderful things we experienced together & i miss it so much :(#we had so many things in common we went to so many concerts together & had so much fun & now i'm all by myself all the time 😔#the thing is also she was always a social butterfly & has many friends so i doubt she even misses me #i still didn't delete her from my contacts & i recently saw she finally fulfilled her dream of going to america #i feel like she is living her best life & i'm just here being miserable & lonely nothing has really improved for me #i wouldn't even be surprised if she's going to that concert i wanted to attend bc it's one of her favorite artists as well #i just feel so unlovable and alone in this world... i wish i could restart my whole life or disappear altogether tbh #sorry for the negativity if anyone reads this i'm just really upset..#i should stop making myself even more depressed i'm supposed to be studying anyways..#and tonight i'm attending our company's christmas party i hope i'll at least have a little fun there..#☁️

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coldvampire · 2 years

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#idk it’s late n I’m not feeling super great abt me as a person #thinking abt being too much too fast for just about everyone I come across #and like. how much I just have to hold back all the time.#I’m never comfortable in my own skin or around anyone bc when I start to relax too much people pull back #and it’s hard to keep a good headspace when it keeps happening #there’s not really a space for me anywhere and I’m pretty sure if I just vanished no one would wonder about it #I always get anxious about this when it’s time to go back to class again #we’re going on three years now with the same people and despite my efforts #it’s still a really lonely setting #I think I torture myself too much with positive What If scenarios bc they’re just not happening #I don’t need to be the most popular one in the room I just don’t want to feel like I’m inserting myself #where I’m not wanted. again.#idk I have a one-man discord server for myself bc I can’t stop compulsively opening the app and I send more messages there than anywhere #else and I think that says something.#things that would absolutely be better suited for a real conversation but.#yknow.#I’m also struggling to maintain social energy which I’m sure is part of the reason I seem to kill the vibe so quickly #vicious cycle no doubt #idk what I’m expecting here I guess I just needed to get this out there #it’s not a new problem it just never seems to leave me #idk how much longer I can keep believing that ‘my people’ are out there #maybe I’m just always going to exist like this #I’m just Tired

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tacticalprincess · 1 month

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a/n i need him in ways that wouldve gotten me lobotomized in the 50s…

himbo!könig wanted your first time together to be special. after all the months of work he put in getting you to take him seriously, all of his dumb attempts at courting you, he wasn’t going to fumble his chances with you now.

he’s usually pretty confident in himself, almost to the point of delusion, but something about you makes him so nervous, and he can’t wrap his head around someone like you genuinely being interested in a goofy guy like him :( that’s why he misses all of the opportunities you give him to fuck you, always taking your hints and attempts at seducing him the wrong way…

“it’s so hot in here, köni.” “are you getting sick, liebchen? should i turn the air on?” “no, i think i’m wearing too many clothes…” “…you don’t look overdressed to me.”

at some point you start to question if he actually does want you in that way. but the way even the slightest touch from you has him popping boners is enough to shake you out of those doubts. everything about you seems to turn him on. he’s convinced you were plucked straight from his wettest dreams, and he can’t stand to be in close proximity to you for too long without being affected. but he thinks he hides it well enough— always covering the proof of his arousal with a subtle pillow over his lap whenever you’re around.

of course he wants to make the move, but he wants to do it properly. it happens the night he takes you to a small town carnival. he planned on kissing you on top of the ferris wheel, but he unfortunately surpassed the weight limit. instead he holds your hand on the rollercoasters and you feed each other fair food. he insists on stopping at every game until he’s won you too many stuffed animals for you to carry and eventually you’re forced to leave.

he’s shaking in his boots by the time you get back to his place, tripping over the mess on his floor and stumbling over his words. sensing his hesitancy, you’re the one to lead him to his room, your hand wrapped around his large finger.

“are you sure, maus? we don’t have to, i have DVDs–”

“shut up and fuck me, köni.” you huff, already fully naked and exposed on his bed. “please.”

he plans to take it slow, he really does. getting the chance to please you, to be let inside your hot body for the first time, is a privilege he doesn’t take lightly. he wants you both to savor it, he has to make it good for you :(

instead, he absolutely loses himself the moment his fat, pulsing cock sinks into your gummy cunt. he goes full caveman, your headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts for all your poor neighbors to hear :( all thoughts leave him when he’s sheathed inside of you except for how perfect your sopping pussy feels around him, borderline animalistic as he uses your smaller body as a fleshlight. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your ass accompanied by your pretty whines and moans only spur him on.

he fucks you in missionary so it’s more intimate, but there’s nothing romantic about the way he’s mounting you. you thank god for making you flexible as he’s pushing your knees up to your ears, seemingly trying to push his cock deeper than your small cunny has room for, stretching your poor cunt past its limit. you swear you can feel him all the way in your stomach, mushroom tip bruising your cervix with each thrust.

you don’t even notice you’re sobbing until he does. “are you okay, liebe? does it hurt?” he asks through heavy pants. “fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t think i can stop myself, you just— you feel so fucking good. you’re so… warm… squeezing me so tight. just- just hang in there for me, ja?”

your brain can’t work for long enough to form words, rough thrusts drawing nothing but high pitched staccato “uh-uh-uh”’s from your throat. you’re drunk on the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, the way his heavy body squishes yours, barricading you in so you’re completely engulfed by him. his hairy stomach ruts against your sensitive, puffy clitty until you’re clenching around him, your sudden orgasm draining the cum out of his tight balls. “so good. fuck, you’re so perfect. best pussy i’ve ever felt.” he fucks you through the high, mindlessly overstimulating you both until you have to physically push him off of you.

you might’ve created a monster…

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wanders-in-wonderland · 7 months

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Ex-Boyfriend

I broke up with him last week. We’d only been dating a few months but the red flags were there. He always wanted to make decisions for me and I’d always felt like he didn’t see me as his equal. He was always treating me like a helpless little girl, being patronizing and condescending at times. The last straw came when he insisted that I quit my job and move in with him so that he could “take care of me properly.”

He took the breakup surprisingly well. No angry outbursts or attempts to convince me to stay. I’d assumed that we would never see each other again and we’d each move on with our lives. I was very wrong.

It was Tuesday night and I’d ordered takeout after a longer-than-usual workday. So when my doorbell rang, I didn’t bother to check the peephole before I excitedly flung it open, expecting to see my dinner. Instead, it was him.

Before I could even register what was going on, he shoved me back and slipped into my apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?” I’m immediately angry and annoyed, I thought we were going to be mature adults and move on with our lives.

“Shut the fuck up bitch,” he snarls out, his voice deeper and angrier than I’d ever heard it before. It stuns me and a small tendril of fear begins to take root inside of me. He’d never hurt me before, and I’d never been scared of him. Sure, he was overbearing and demanding, but never in a violent way.

But now, the look on his face and his tone suggested otherwise. “Why are you here?” I whisper softly, fear and apprehension taking over my previous anger. He laughs with derision, “I’m here to take back what I own.” His words are delivered with so much finality that I’m thrown. What does that even mean? Before I can fully think about it, he strikes.

His hand comes up and wraps around my throat, tightening and pushing me against the wall. His body presses against me and I cry out from the force of my body hitting the wall. “Stop! Please!” I can hear the terror in my own voice now and the severity of my situation hits me fully. He’s so much bigger than me, stronger, faster, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he could seriously hurt me if he wanted to.

“I said, shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch,” he growls before his lips meet mine in a bruising, punishing kiss. I whimper into his mouth, tasting iron on my own lips as he pushes against me harshly. The hand around my throat tightens even further, restricting my airway and making me lightheaded. His other hand goes between my legs and he rips at my shorts and underwear.

He’d never treated me like this before. Back when we were dating, he was always gentle, sweet, and attentive during sex. But right now, he was anything but soft. His fingers pushed against my core, harshly rubbing my clit, making me whine into his mouth. He pulls his fingers away briefly and breaks away from the kiss to shove his fingers into my mouth.

I gag around them, feeling tears start to gather in my eyes. “You little bitch thought you could just walk away from me? I’m going to make you regret that,” he growls into my ear and pulls his fingers from my mouth.

“Please, no, stop! I don’t want this, please just leave me alone. We broke up, you never have to see my again,” I’m sobbing now, realizing how trapped I am as his intentions become more clear. He scoffs, “Oh no, you are never going to leave me again.”

I cry harder at his words. His fingers, wet with my saliva, come back to my pussy and without any preparation, he thrusts two into my cunt. I wail as I feel him violate me. He starts to pump his fingers, curling them just right to hit that spot inside of me that makes me see stars. He knows my body better than myself and he knows exactly how to touch me to make me fall apart. I can feel my pussy gushing around him, drenching his hand despite my mind knowing that I don’t want this.

“Please, please, please!” I’m begging him, pleas falling from my lips like a mantra, hoping that he would stop and just leave. But he doesn’t. His thumb presses down on my clit with just the right amount of pressure and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Look at you, falling apart like this on my fingers. Your body knows who you belong to, little whore,” he says, his voice rough in my ear. I’m delirious, overwhelmed with pleasure and torn between my body and mind as he works me to my climax. I arch into him and scream as I shatter into an orgasm that leaves me reeling. My pussy clenches around his fingers, squirting my release all over his hand and wrist. It’s humiliating how fast I came apart for him.

His fingers keep playing with my pussy, working me through my orgasm as I pant and moan softly. I collapse against him, feeling broken and defeated. Suddenly, I feel a pinch on my arm and I turn my head to see a syringe sticking out of me. He smiles darkly at me as he pulls it away, and I feel the effects immediately as my eyes start to drift shut and my body falls into unconsciousness.

—

I wake up and immediately recognize my surroundings. I’m in his bedroom, my arms and legs tied to his bedposts as I lay on my back, completely naked. Fear and worry floods my mind when I realize that I’m trapped here with no way out.

“Welcome home, honey,” he says from a corner of the room. My vision darts to him and I see him sitting in his armchair, drinking a glass of his favorite bourbon. “Why am I here? What do you want?” I demand, hoping to infuse anger into my voice but it sounds weak, scared, and helpless even to my own ears.

He smiles. “I think you know what I want. I want you back. And I’m going to have you no matter what it takes.”

“You’re delusional,” I whisper, staring at him. “You raped me. I’m never going to get back together with you.” His smile falls from his face and his eyes harden.

“I wouldn’t call it rape, sweetheart. Not when you squirted all over my fingers. I think you came harder than you ever have, and your body certainly knows who it belongs to,” he says, his vulgar words making me blush. My cheeks burn even more because I know he’s right. He made me fall apart on his fingers despite how much I hated it, and he’s the only person who’s ever been able to control my body so perfectly.

He sets his drink down and pushes up from his chair, stalking towards me. I whimper and cringe away from him as much as I can but he tied me too tightly for me to have any wiggle room. He runs his fingers up my leg, toying with me.

“You see, I think you’ve forgotten that I own you. And I think it’s up to me to remind you. And if you behave like a good girl, I’ll even overlook the fact that you tried to leave me,” he murmurs softly as his fingers brush gently across my pussy. I whimper when he flicks my clit softly, my body jerking against the ropes in response.

“I was so patient with you all throughout our relationship. I gave you time to adjust, even let you keep your little job for a few months. But you just had to go and ruin it all. Now, we have to do things the hard way,” he says as his fingers keep rubbing at my clit.

I can feel my pussy starting to drip again, and I want nothing more than for him to just stop and leave me alone. I hate that my body responds so well to him, and I hate that he knows that. I bite my lip, trying to hold back moans as he works my body closer and closer to another orgasm. My eyes flutter shut as I feel the sensation building, and I want to sob knowing that he can bend my body to his will.

I’m so close now, his fingers finding just the right places to stroke and flick. Small whimpers and whines are escaping my throat as I chase my orgasm. I can feel myself about to erupt when suddenly, he pulls his fingers away. I let out a short wail when my orgasm comes to an abrupt stop, my body clenching and throbbing at the loss of stimulation. My eyes fly open and meet his and I’m sickened to see the satisfaction on his face.

His voice is laced with faux sympathy, “Aw honey, did you want to cum?” I shake my head stubbornly as I pant, trying to get myself back under control. He smiles as he sits down on the bed next to me.

“You see, I spent a long time thinking about how I wanted to break you. I thought about just tying you to a fucking machine and vibrator and letting it completely wreck you. But that’s less fun. I’d much rather take you apart by myself. Maybe next time, I’ll leave you on the machine for a few hours and see how it ruins you. This time though, I want you to know that I can break you myself, with no extra help. So you know that I own you, completely.” He smile is dark and full of promises. Fear is overwhelming me, not just a fear of him, but also fear in knowing that he is absolutely correct.

I stare at him with tears in my eyes, “Please, please don’t do this. I’m sorry I broke up with you but I don’t want this. Please just let me go.” Part of me knows that begging is useless but I can’t help it. I have to try. He tsks at me and I watch as he undresses, showing off his gorgeous body that always made me drool a little.

He comes onto the bed and slots himself in between my legs, looking up at me from my pussy. “By the end of tonight, you’ll be begging me to take you back,” he murmurs, redirecting his gaze to my dripping pussy.

Without another word, he dives into my cunt. He’d always been so good at eating me out and that hasn’t changed at all. His tongue paints long strokes over my pussy as he laps up my wetness. He pays special attention to my clit, expertly playing with it and drawing out gasps, whimpers, and moans from my mouth, despite my best efforts to muffle them. Before long, I can feel my orgasm building. The stimulation is so good against my clit and pussy and I want to beg him to make me cum but I’m too stubborn to let those words come out of my mouth. I’m so close and I can feel myself about to fall off the edge when suddenly, he pulls away. My hips arch upwards embarrassingly, trying to chase the pleasure he’s ripping away from me and I can’t help but let out a sob.

“Poor honey, were you about to cum again?” His voice is tinged with condescension and I want to be angry but all I feel is desperation. “If you beg, I’ll let you cum,” he says, smirking.

I want to scream and beg but I’m too stubborn to give in so all I do is glare at him. He laughs as he presses soft kisses along my thighs and stomach, waiting for my orgasm to fade before beginning again. He brings me to the brink using just his mouth another five more times, each edge chipping away at my resistance. My pussy drools onto the bed under me as I’m subjected to his whims.

I’m sobbing and writhing after another edge and I finally can’t take anymore. “Please,” I whisper, my voice cracking from need and desperation. “Please, let me cum.”

He looks up at me and smiles. “Breaking so soon, honey?” I want to cry and I wish I could be stronger but I’m so fucking desperate. “Please, I’m sorry I broke up with you, it was a mistake,” I murmur, not able to meet his eyes.

The satisfaction on his face makes me feel sick. I hate that he’s able to turn my body against me and I hate that I’m too weak to resist. But his next words make me feel even worse.

“I don’t think you’re actually sorry yet. I think you’re just saying that so I’ll make you cum, honey. And that’s not good enough.” His last words punctuated with his fingers driving into my pussy and I arch my back and wail. It feels so good and I’m so close that I know I’d cum if he just kept going. But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out and slides them into his mouth, licking up my wetness from them.

He waits for me to calm down before he dives back in, driving me insane with his mouth and bringing me to the edge over and over again. I lose track of how many orgasms he’s withheld from me but before long, I’m begging with every breath. I’m almost incoherent with need, babbling out pleas to him, trying to say anything and everything that would convince him to let me cum. I’m apologizing over and over again for leaving him, pleading with him to take me back as I writhe and shake under his mouth.

Some amount of time later, he pushes himself up from between my legs and leans over me. His face is inches from mine as his eyes take in my face, pink from desire and need, my eyes watery with tears. His lips meet mine in a soft, gentle kiss and I can taste myself as I melt into it. His hands come up to cup my face gently and I moan softly into his mouth, feeling his warm body cover mine, pressing me into the bed. He’d always made me feel safe, and now is no different. My brain is fuzzy but I’m trying to press myself even closer to him, straining against the ropes toward him.

“Please, please, baby, take me back. I want to be yours again, please, I love you, I’m so sorry,” I’m babbling as soon as his lips leave mine, desperate to convince him to take me back. He smiles tenderly at me, “Of course, honey. I know you were just a little misguided earlier.” The patronizing tone gives me pause for a second, registering in my brain as something that used to annoy me, but the notion fades as quickly as it came.

I arch up toward him, pressing myself into him, trying to rock my pussy against him. “Please, please, please,” I’m whimpering but I’m not sure what I’m begging for, whether it’s to cum or for him to take me back. His fingers trail down to my pussy and he slides two of them inside of me. I gasp and moan deeply, feeling him scissor his fingers and then curl them into my g-spot as his thumb finds my clit. Fuck, it feels so good and I love it so much. I love him so much.

I feel myself barreling toward an orgasm again, and I’m begging again, begging for him to keep going, to let me cum, promising him that I’ll be good, I’ll be the perfect girlfriend, I’ll do whatever he wants if he would just let me cum.

He pulls his fingers away and I let out a gut-wrenching sob. “Aw honey, don’t cry, I have something even better than my fingers for you,” he says, smirking at me. I feel the head of his cock nudge my pussy and I moan and start to beg again.

“Please, please, please give me your cock. Please, I want your cock so much, please!” I’m rocking my hips, trying to entice him to just thrust into me. He rubs the head of his cock along my clit gently and I’m so sensitive that I feel like I could cum from that alone. Then, without warning, he slams his cock home into me.

A scream tears out of my throat as I cum immediately around him. All of the orgasms he’d withheld from me seemed to slam into me all at once and I feel my pussy clench down around him and squirt my release out. He groans in my ear, and I feel a part of me preen in satisfaction knowing that my pussy is making him feel good too. He starts to thrust hard and fast inside of me and I scream as my orgasm seems to continue with no end.

I’m delirious, cockdrunk, moaning and whimpering from the pleasure as he fucks me into the mattress. I wish my arms and legs were untied so that I could wrap around him and hold on, never letting go. He’s relentless as he sets a brutal pace, fucking me so hard that I see stars. The stimulation is overwhelming and I’m sobbing as he takes what he wants from me. I feel his thrusts start to falter and I know he’s close. I whine against him, wanting him to cum inside of me.

“Please, ah, please cum inside of me! Please make me yours!” I want his cum to paint my insides, I want him to claim me inside and out. He moans deep in my ear at my words and with one final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside of me and cums. I feel his cum spray my insides and I cum again, my pussy milking him.

He collapses on top of me, and I love the feeling of his body on top of mine, pressing me deep into the bed. I look up at him through bleary eyes as he leans in to kiss me softly.

“Are you going to be mine forever now?” He whispers against my lips, his eyes gleaming of victory. I smile up at him, content and satisfied, “Forever and always.” I don’t know why I’d ever thought to break up with him in the first place.

#nsft concept #dark fantasy #cl1t torture #mind break #rap3 fantasy #tw noncon #tw rap3 #edging kink #cnc overstim #overstim kink #bimboification #bimbo training

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shu-porang-porang · 3 months

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Love Me Until I Love Myself

♡♡♡ Minho wants to make sure you know he loves you ♡♡♡

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

Theme: Angst, Fluff, Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), reader is insecure and doesn't like herself

Word count: 3 k

You and your boyfriend are on the ride back home from an awards show after party. It was exhausting. You used to think they must be fun, getting to chat and party with celebrities, but nope. You’re not built for this. You wonder how he could do it, especially after performing those taxing choreos. You could never. All night he was so bubbly and cheerful, while you tried to hide in shadows and attract as little attention as possible. Well, it’s not like people cared about you anyway, you were an outsider, a peasant who was offered a chance at a royal ball.

Halfway through it you questioned why you even accepted to participate, and then right away, you remembered why. Another girl approached him, congratulating him on their win and talking about memories you weren’t a part of, laughing at inside jokes you couldn’t understand. Of course, he would be comfortable with these girls, they’re coworkers after all! He’s known some of them for ages, way before you guys met, and of course you had no right to tell him to stay away from them or anything. The best you could do was to stick around, so the girls were aware of you as his girlfriend, or he knew you were there, lest he decided to do something naughty with one of them...

You know you’re being unreasonable; you know he’s loyal, and they’re just friends, some of them are even like his little sisters, but you can’t get these thoughts out of your head. Your insecurities won’t let you. After all, those girls are famous idols, loved by millions, always so dolled up and pretty, acting cute and shit. You think it’s just a matter of time before Minho realizes the timid plain you ain’t good enough for a star like him. Although he always fondly smiles at your dorky made up dance moves, you think some performer who could actually dance and shared his passion for dancing would be more appealing to him. You feel you lack a lot, and you can’t justify why someone like him would be interested in someone like you.

You feel pathetic. You let out a sigh subconsciously and Minho gently puts a hand on your thigh, asking if you’re ok. You reply with a nod and a weak smile. You’re afraid if you try to talk, tears may spill. His hand remains on your thigh, so you hold it to calm yourself down. His soft hand that you love so much. You love everything about him, you’re crazy about him. You wish you didn’t love him so much, then he couldn’t one day break your heart. You wish you were another person, well, you wished that almost your entire life until you met him. Having him, convinced you that you were alright, the person who you were and hated for so long, was the same person who got you to him, so it was alright. But here you are again, doubting yourself. You think you’re just broken and can never be fully fixed. So maybe it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stick with you…

You arrive at Minho’s place. You moved in with him a few months back, so it’s technically your place too, but you don’t dare to indulge yourself in that idea, you think you don’t deserve it, you’ll lose it soon, so better to not get attached, but it’s already too late.

Home, at last. As soon as you enter, you are greeted by the cats. Minho picks one up cooing at it. You walk past by him into the bedroom. You just wanna rid yourself of the party attire and go to sleep, right now the only thing that could stop your train of horrible thoughts is sleep.

Minho joins you soon after, walks towards you and wraps his arms around you from behind as you’re taking your jewelry off in front of the mirror. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Hey let go, I’m tired. Just wanna get out of this dress and go to bed.”

“But I want you to stay in this dress a bit longer. You looked so pretty tonight, babe” he leaves kisses on your exposed shoulder that make your breath hitch in your throat. But you’re still upset about the bleak night you had.

“Oh, is that why you spent the whole time talking to other girls while I was sitting right there?” Your bottled up emotions force you to blurt out.

He lifts his head up, looking you in the eyes through the mirror. His expression is baffled, he’s trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“What are you talking about? I thought we had a nice time there!”

“Well, you obviously had, giggling with them all night.”

You try to break free from his arms but he won’t budge.

“Hey! You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s exactly wrong.”

You try to form sentences that would explain why you’re feeling like this, but you feel stupid for bringing it up in the first place. You break into tears as you’re tired and helpless and don’t even know how to make sense of your feelings. Silent tears start streaming down your cheeks, you’re never one to sob loudly. Worries written all over his face.

“Baby tell me. What did I do? Did someone say something to you?”

You shake your head “no”. He lifts you up and carries you to bed, sitting you on his lap. You show no resistance, your hands are balled up on your lap and your head is down, trying to cover your crying face with the lose strands of your hair, which he tucks behind your ear immediately. His thumb is caressing your tear-stricken cheek. His other hand is soothingly massaging your thigh.

“It’s okay baby, you can talk to me. Please. It really hurts me to see you like this and not be able to do anything about it. Tell me what’s wrong sweetie. We’re gonna fix it together.”

You don’t wanna hurt him. Hurting him is the last thing you would do. So, you try to fight the tears and speak.

“I… seeing you tonight… the girls all pretty and talented… the things you have in common… how close you are… I wonder… how long… till you realize……….”

“Till I realize what baby?”

“I’m not… good enough” your voice is shaky, again on the verge of tears.

He’s in disbelief. His mouth slightly agape in shock. His grip on your waist tightens.

“Why would you even think that?” he says as if asking himself, not really waiting for a response from you.

His brows are furrowed. He’s thinking to himself.

“I get it now. You were sitting right there, and I kept talking to other people as if you weren’t. But I just thought you weren’t taking part in conversations coz you didn’t want to be bothered… but you actually felt excluded from them. Is that right?”

“Almost. That alone wasn’t a problem, but it made me think you deserve to be with someone who’s more like them and less like me…”

“Woah! Where did you get that from?”

“You’re too good for me… it can’t be right. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time with me…”

“Hey! You don’t get to decide that for me! Do you think I couldn’t have any of those girls if I wanted? The thing is, I don’t want them, I want you.”

“Why do you even love me? Even I can’t love myself…”

“Where should I begin? I love everything about you, and I make that my first priority from now on, to make you see all the things I love in you, and to make you love them too.” He finishes his sentence with a soft kiss on your collarbone.

He plants a few more kisses on the expanse of your chest before pulling back and looking into your glossy eyes. You give him a thankful smile as your hands reach for his nape and pull him in for a kiss. His lips feel like heaven against yours, soft and plump. The kiss starts with languid movements of your mouths. Neither of you are in a hurry, you both need to savor this moment. He drags his tongue on your bottom lip and you let it in. As your tongues are dancing, the temperature rises. His hand that was on your waist, travels up to grope at your clothed breast, the other hand is tangled in your hair, keeping your head in place for him to abuse your lips.

He lays you on your back on the bed, momentarily disconnecting your lips which makes you whimper in loss. It encourages him to get back to kissing with even more fervor. His hands are pulling the straps of your dress down, trying to gain access to your breasts. He trails kisses down your jaw and across the column of your neck, to your shoulders and collarbone. They alternate between feather like pecks to purplish hickeys. He can’t decide what he wants. He wants it all, he wants all of you, he can’t get enough.

He stops to admire his work of art. A hand cups your cheek gently which you lean into, closing your eyes.

“You’re so perfect baby,” He plants a kiss to your forehead. “Even in my wildest imaginations I couldn’t picture someone this pretty,” Another kiss to your nose. “Inside and out.”

You open your eyes to see his lovingly stare back. You pull him in for another taste of his lips.

“So, do you still wanna get rid of this dress?”

“I do, if you want to.”

“As gorgeous as you look, I can’t wait to see what’s underneath.”

He takes it off and your left in nothing but your black lace panties. You tug at his dress shirt, signaling him to take it off too, which he complies, followed by the unbuckling of his belt and his pants follow suit.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I want you to never forget that.” He says as he hovers over you once again. You open your arms to invite him into your hug. He lowers his body onto yours, slightly circling his hips against your crotch. You feel him twitch in his boxers.

“We don’t have to do it if you’re not in the mood, you know.” He says searching your eyes.

“I want it baby, I need you, I really do.” You say as your hands are mapping his toned chest.

With a little smirk on his lips, he goes back to business. He kisses your chest, right above your racing heart, then latches his mouth to your left nipple. He sucks and bites at it till its raw, while trying to give the same amount of attention to the right one between his fingers. You squirm beneath him as your nipples get too sensitive and can’t handle more. He gets the cue and snaps out of his uncontrollable desire to ruin them. Instead, he gives them both kitten licks and pecks in turn, to compensate for the rough treatment they just received.

Moving down your naval, he’s all soft and sweet with butterfly kisses, loving pecks and whispering sweet nothings in between. He’s slotted between your thighs as he reaches your core. Eyes darting up to ask for your permission one last time before he’s completely unstoppable. You give him a nod and he places a kiss to your clothed mound. He teases by nudging his nose to your clit and licking a stripe from your hole to it. Tasting the arousal leaking through the fabric, he lets out a satisfied hum that sends shivers up your spine. You’re growing impatient but he’s taking his sweet time with peppering your inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. You feel more of your juices flowing out and you buck your hips up.

“Stay still princess. Let me take care of you, hm?”

“Minho… please…” You whine. You trust him that he’ll take good care of you, but you can’t wait anymore.

He finally gets rid of your panties and the cool air hits your pussy, followed by warm puffs of his breath.

“So pretty… all mine” He says before diving down and starting to make out with your pussy lips. The lewd noises that fill the room make you forget why you were even upset earlier. The only thing you don’t like about this moment is how little pressure he’s putting on your clit, enough to keep your juices flowing, but not enough to make them gush out all at once. You’re a moaning mess, your fingers pulling at his roots, trying to keep his face close to your core. He’s finally sucking at your clit, suddenly the pleasure gets overwhelming as he inserts two fingers inside you. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening to a snap. A few more strokes of his tongue and your coming undone. Your thighs shake around his head, one of his hands comes up to fondle your breast, his mouth still attached to your core, drinking the elixir of life straight from the fountain. He waits for you to ride your orgasm before he crawls back on top and gives you a taste of yourself. His mouth and chin are glistening with your juices. What a sight to see! You feel extremely lucky to be the one who caused this scene.

“That was …amazing… Thank you” you say while trying to find the normal rhythm of your breath.

“I told you I know how to take care of my girl.”

“Now it’s your turn.” You push him on his back and now you’re on top.

First thing you do is taking his boxers off and finally freeing his aching cock. You wonder how he managed to focus on pleasuring you while he was this hard. The sight alone makes you all turned on again. You thought you’d need more time to build a second orgasm, but you’re already throbbing.

Now it’s your turn to mark him, to shower him with kisses, to try and pour as much love as possible onto your every touch. Starting from the sensitive spot on his neck, you know you can’t mark him here, still you suck it a bit harsher than you should. You leave open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and where it is safe, give him a few hickeys too. You lovingly kiss the scar on his abdomen, the fact that it’s another thing that only a few have seen and you’re one of those few, is really endearing to you.

His member is twitching between your bodies. You slide your wet pussy on it, earning a groan from him. You decide he deserves a quicker release, so you stop grinding to hold it and align it with your entrance but he stops you.

“Wait baby. Let me do it.” He says as he’s stopping your hips from moving.

You’re confused but you go with it. He gets on top again.

“Tonight is about showing my baby how much I love her.” He says with a fond smile.

“I wanna make sure everything feels good for you.” He puts a pillow under your hips to gain a better angle. He inserts the two fingers from before in your pussy, checking how wet you are and scissoring them to loosen the muscles.

“Minnie I’m fine… it’s not my first time…” you try to say in between gasps as his fingers alone are doing wonders inside of you.

“Oh but it is sweetheart. I’m gonna love you all over again.” He inserts a third finger.

“Gonna make sure to give you all the love you deserve.”

He clashes his lips to yours as he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock. The stretch is pleasant, you want more of it. You moan in his mouth as he slowly inches inside you until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, your warmth engulfing him, turns his brains to mush.

He whispers in your ear: “I love you so much”

He starts moving as he nibs at your earlobe, giving you words of praise now and then. Your arms wrap impossibly tight around his shoulders, leaving no space between your chests.

He slowly picks up his pace. Your nails are digging to his biceps now. Beautiful moans fill the room. His lips won’t leave your skin for more than 3 seconds. He pats down your left arm till he reaches your hand and your fingers intertwine as if they have brains of their own. He pins it above your head and his other hand is beside your head, supporting his weight as his movements get faster and less precise.

“ ’m close…” you manage to let out.

“Go ahead… I’m right… behind you”

A few more thrusts and you’re second orgasm hits you as your head falls back and your eyes screw shut, his name like a prayer on your lips. You’ve made a habit out of saying his name every time you came or it wouldn’t feel right.

As your walls convulse around him, he can’t hold it back anymore. Ropes of white hot liquid paint your walls. He collapses on top of you. He tries to pull out but you stop him.

“Wanna stay connected to you a bit more…” You wish you could merge with him into one person, but having him inside a bit longer, would do too.

His head finds its place in the crook of your neck. One of your hands is in his hair and the other is resting on his back. You whisper a “I love you” to his hair and kiss the top of his head and he lets out a sigh. You don’t want this moment to end. If he can love you this much, maybe you should give it a try too.

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salvatwh0re · 9 months

Text

I have officially mastered the void

So this morning (afternoon actually) i decided to tap into the void so I did the 61 points yoga nidra meditation with a subliminal. I didn’t really need the subliminal I was just using it cause my headphones are somewhat noise cancelling and my family was awake so I didn’t want to get distracted. But the meditation was really relaxing. At first I had some trouble staying focused but then I reminded myself why I was doing this and what I was doing it for. So it kept me motivated. After that i affirmed a little bit then I counted down from 100 and then I affirmed some more then I got bored of affirming so i started visualizing and then I got bored of that so I just decided to focus on the darkness behind my eyelids.

I never really took that advice from people when they said it helped cause I didn’t believe them but it actually worked. Out of everything else I did that was the one thing that sent me straight to the void. I think for the most part it was just letting go of that desperate feeling i always have when I try to enter. I always feel like I’m forcing myself to do it so I just let go and kind of forgot about what I was doing while still keeping that intention.

I was getting pretty anxious tho because of the time so I just got out but i did it again and it sent me straight to the void again. So now I know the secret to getting into the void is to just let go of that desperation and to stop forcing yourself, just let it happen. If you feel you’ve affirmed enough stop affirming, if you feel you’ve focused on your breathing enough, go back to your automatic breathing pattern STOP FORCING YOURSELF IT WILL GET YOU NOWHERE!!

and I know a lot of people stress about not being aware in the void and not affirming for your desires but stressing over that is exactly what’s going to make you forget tbh. When you let go of that desperation you let go of those other doubts too, those things that were stopping you from getting there in the first place. I feel like removing yourself from those thoughts is really effective in getting you what you want.

I will say it might help to have a list of things you want either written down or set in your mind because it will be a lot easier to remember what you’re going to affirm. When you’re in the void or even before you tap in completely you’re supposed to be super relaxed so it might be a little difficult to bring up those thoughts but because of how different the void is from the 3D it’s kind of hard to forget. Especially if you’ve been trying for a long time.

The void isn’t really something you question, you know for sure you’re in cause you can’t hear feel see taste or smell anything so it’s pretty identifiable. And because you’ve reminded yourself over and over that that’s what the void feels like, once you feel it you’re going to be like OHHH ok now i know to affirm for my desires. You’ve been training your brain to associate the void with your desires so of course once you recognize that you’re in you’re going to remember to affirm for your desires.

Also I don’t really like using the term void personally, but it’s what I learned it as. I feel like calling it the void just makes it sound so otherworldly and extraterrestrial and scary tbh. I think that’s what was holding me back as well, fear. I know that Neville Goddard refers to it as the I AM state which is a perfect name for it because it really is a state of just BEING like you’re not worried about anything else other than yourself and that’s the beauty of it. I would go on more cause there’s so much I can say but overall i hope you just let you go of that desperation so that you can finally push through and get everything you’ve been wanting because you deserve it.

#void state #void success #the void state #loassumption

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sanguineterrain · 22 days

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Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

#jason todd x reader #Jason todd x you #Red Hood x reader #Red Hood x you #Red Hood fanfiction #Jason todd fanfiction #Jason todd imagine #Red Hood imagine #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #dc imagine #Jason todd x gn reader #inbox #blurb

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Note

Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?

This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦

‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’

Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.

Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.

You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.

‘I’ll make it up to you-‘

‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.

Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘

‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.

Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.

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

Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.

He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.

He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.

He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.

As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.

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

Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.

You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.

He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.

You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.

‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.

*knock, knock, knock*

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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strangersmunsons · 3 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 5 Prompt: Love Notes 💌 ~ 2,300 words Eddie writes you an anonymous love note. it doesn't go according to plan.

Dear ____

I hope you’re not too weirded out by this. To be perfectly honest with you, it seemed like a really good idea when I saw this pink paper in the art room and swiped it, but now I’m not so sure…

Ah, fuck it. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we? The pen has been put to paper — I might as well nut up and finish the job.

I really like you. I think about you all the time.

You don’t know me, but we had a class together two years ago. And on the first day, when I was still fresh off a jilt by a different girl, you came in and sat down. I didn’t think much of anything at first; you were just another body in the classroom, and I was wallowing in self-pity, nursing my metaphorical wounds. But as the minutes passed, I found myself glancing over at you — at first just once, then again, and then again, and then I was staring, and all I could think was: she’s really beautiful. And then I couldn’t stop looking.

Day after day I’d watch you in class and in the hallways and anywhere else you and I happened to be occupying the same space. I still do. There’s just something about you that keeps drawing me in. You seem so genuinely good and kind, like you would never hurt anybody, not even a guy like me. But I still can’t bring myself to approach you, because I look at you, and then I look at myself, and I feel like I don’t deserve to be loved that way, by someone as perfect as you. I can’t take the leap no matter how badly I want it.

I have dreams about you. I dream about what it would feel like to hold your hand, to put my arms around you, and to feel yours around me. If my subconscious is feeling particularly indulgent, I might get a kiss. But mostly in these dreams we just exist together, which feels like the most unattainable fantasy of them all. They’re the sweetest dreams to have but the worst to wake up from.

I’m not sure why I’m confessing this all to you now. Everyone else is sending each other candy grams and roses; I suppose it means I’m not as immune to this Hallmark-conspired holiday as I thought. If nothing else, I hope this gives you at least an inkling of how wonderful you are, in case you ever had any doubts. You’re a sweet girl. Anybody would be really lucky to be with you. Especially me.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Deliberately omitting his signature, Eddie sets his pen down and stares at the paper in front of him, rereading the fucking novel he just wrote you.

See, now this is far too much.

Cheeks violently red, he slumps over the table in embarrassment. God, he sounds like such a serial killer! He can’t give this to you, no way. Even if it is anonymous.

…can he?

On one hand, you might find it touching. On the other hand, you might find it both disturbing and grossly predative.

If it’s truly any one thing, it’s honest — Eddie has spent the past two and half years being completely and utterly infatuated with you. He’d call it love, if he’d ever said a single word to you. But instead he’s camped out here in the library during his lunch period, spilling his guts out all over this cotton-candy pink paper, with no intention of revealing his identity.

He sighs, and with nimble fingers, folds the paper into a shape that resembles a heart. Tucking the love note into the pocket of his vest, he wrenches himself away from the table and stalks out of the library. His expression is sour; to the outward observer, he looks mightily pissed off, although what he’s really experiencing is a fierce combination of ambivalence and humiliation towards his own actions. You’d never guess that his heart is thumping wildly against his chest as he speeds through the empty hallways, getting closer and closer to your locker, still uncertain of what he’s going to do when he actually gets there.

But he knows that if he’s going to do something, he needs to do it now, because lunch will be over in mere minutes, and then everyone will start pouring out of the cafeteria.

133…134…135…there it is.

Eddie stares at your locker as though in a trance. He fishes the note from his pocket and simply clutches it in his fist, mind racing.

Can I? Should I? If she’s disgusted she won’t know it’s me. No. No. Maybe I shouldn’t. Bad idea. BAD. Or maybe…I should…

“Whatcha got there, freak?”

A beefy arm shoves him violently from behind, knocking him to the ground. His fingers automatically close around the note, instant panic setting all his nerve endings on fire.

No. Oh God, no.

He quickly tries to haul himself back to his feet, but he’s outnumbered. Two jocks pin him to the ground by his arms, thwarting any desperate punches he might have swung. A third yanks the note from his hand, smoothing out the meticulously-folded paper he’d poured his soul onto.

There’s a roaring in his ears, but it’s not enough to completely drown out the bell ringing in the distance. Then the student voices start floating down the hallway, alerting Eddie to the fact that, not only is he about to suffer greatly at the hands of these meatheads, but he’s unfortunately also going to have an audience when it happens.

The third jock holding the note reads it silently, a slow, evil grin splitting across his face. He starts howling with laughter. “Shit, Munson! I mean, I figured you’d be desperate for pussy, but this? This is a whole new level of pathetic.”

“Give it back!” Eddie snarls, desperately trying to free himself.

The third jock doubles over, cackling, then reads aloud in a nasally, mocking voice, “I have dreams about you…”

One of the goons pinning Eddie down snorts, and loosens his grip. “Hold up, I wanna read it —”

Eddie, sensing his chance, breaks out of their grasp, and makes a move to snatch his note back. Before he can, the third jock crumples it into a ball and tosses it over his head to one of his friends; Eddie makes a wild grab for it, and misses.

High school students start to trickle in, drawn to a fight like flies to honey, crowding at the edges of the scene.

The four boys play a game of Eddie-in-the-middle, the onlookers puzzled but intrigued, watching the mysterious paper whiz back and forth through the air. Growing angrier by the second, fed up with the childish antics, Eddie finally stops trying to catch the note. Instead, he cocks his fist back and lets it smash into the third jock’s nose.

There’s a collective “oooh!” from the mass of students. Eddie and the jock scuffle, both now determined to fuck the other one up as badly as possible. One goon steps in to help his friend, while the other scoops the wadded-up paper off the floor, so he can finally skim the content of Eddie’s heart for himself.

And then suddenly, the most devastating thing of all: the asshole is hollering your name over the din.

For the first time ever, Eddie finds himself hoping that the bully he’s fighting actually kills him. Because death would be better than this.

“Where’s she at? She’s gotta hear this — hey, guess what! The freak is in love with you!”

Eddie wheels around in horror. The other goon grabs him from behind, rendering him motionless again, but it barely registers. The crowd has parted like the Red Sea, everyone stepping aside to make a clear path for you to walk through. You approach nervously, looking completely bewildered as to why you’re being summoned. Eddie wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

The goon thrusts the paper out to you. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” he sneers.

“More like a stalker,” the third jock interjects, voice thick from his swollen nose. He steps in front of Eddie and gives him a bloody smile, flexing his hand menacingly. “Hold his face steady for me, would ya?”

“Stop it!” you shriek suddenly, snatching the paper without bothering to look at it. “You’re such assholes!”

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Principal Higgins has finally decided to do his job, it seems. He marches through the crowd — “Get to class, all of you!” — and pulls the two boys apart.

“My office. Now.”

He corrals the four boys down the hallway, towards the office, as the other students scatter about, flushed with excitement. None of them cast a backwards glance at you, head bent, reading the crumpled note with a furrowed brow.

An hour later and Eddie’s finally trudging his way through the parking lot.

He’s been sentenced to three days’ suspension. The guy he clocked made it out with one after-school detention, which he’ll most likely get out of due to basketball obligations, and the other two got off scot-free. Principal Higgins’s reasoning was that Eddie, because he’s the only one who did any ‘real’ damage, should get the worst punishment.

Sure, he threw the hardest punch. But the idea that any of those three are suffering worse than he is right now is downright laughable.

The hot, bitter embarrassment of it all is making his skin itch. There’s a lump in his throat; he can feel the start of angry tears prickling in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he starts driving — the last thing he needs right now is an excuse for one of Hawkins’ finest to pull him over. God knows how much they love doing that.

“Eddie!”

He doesn’t turn around, rage and shame making him want to disappear. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, or ever again, probably.

“Eddie! Wait!”

A light hand caresses his back, then curls around his bicep. He whips around, already on the defensive; you flinch backwards at his aggressive stance.

As soon as he sees that it’s you, all the tension in his body dissipates. His eyes widen and his lips part in shock; his skin becomes dead-white, then bright red in the span of about four seconds.

“I’m sorry,” the words tumble out of his mouth. “For the note — for everything. You weren’t supposed to know it was me.” He stares down at his feet, unable to look at you.

“Did you really mean it? All that stuff you said?”

Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Well…yeah.” He rubs his clammy forehead with his hand in distress, heart rate spiking again. “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m the biggest fucking creep, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to give it to you —”

“I don’t think you’re a creep.”

Eddie falls silent. His eyes finally flit up to meet yours, and he’s surprised to find that you don’t look…angry. Or repulsed, or even annoyed. Your gaze is soft, the corners of your mouth pulled slightly down in a worried frown. You look concerned.

Is that for him?

“You swear you weren’t playing a joke on me?” you ask.

Eddie starts, taken aback. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do something like that to you, ever. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

You nod slowly, seeming to believe him. You swing your backpack off your shoulder so you can unzip the front pocket, and pull the dreaded love note from inside. Eyes roaming the paper once more, a small smile appears on your lips. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.” Then your expression turns more serious, and there’s a slight tremble in your voice. “And I’m so sorry that those jerks did that to you. That was terrible. But you don’t have to be embarrassed about me reading it. I love the note. Thank you for writing it.”

He can scarcely believe this conversation is happening. He’s thought about you standing in front of him like this for years — imagined what it would be like to have you look at him and really see him, the way you do right now. Now that he’s living it, it’s almost too much for him to handle.

You hesitate, like you’re unsure of what to say next. “Um, to be honest, I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

“How could I not?” he says dazedly. The notion that he might not know who you are is absurd to him.

You shyly avert your eyes, like you’re overwhelmed by the praise. Pressing on, you tell him, “You did get one thing wrong, though.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I’m not perfect — certainly not too perfect for you to come and talk to, or — or ask out. I think you’re a good guy.”

Is there air left in his lungs? It doesn’t feel like it. “Oh,” he manages faintly. He’s too scared to say anything else, that a single incorrect word will break this spell.

You give him a gentle smile. “So…are you busy right now?”

Eddie hides his shaking hand behind his back, blushing furiously. “No, I’m not busy right now. Actually, um, I’m not even allowed back here for the next three days, so…yeah, I’m — I’m pretty open.”

You nudge his arm playfully. “Do you wanna go do something?”

Even through his leather jacket the contact makes his skin tingle. “Yes!” he practically shouts, then lowers his volume. “Sorry. I mean, you read my note. So you understand that this is kind of a big deal for me.”

You laugh, and not unkindly.

“Well, let’s get going then. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #we're an hour late! sorry bout that

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ugotcooneycrossed · 8 months

Text

get her back! • leah williamson

w/c: ~1.2k

leah williamson is the most frustrating person you've ever met in you're entire life- and you are without a doubt, 100% infatuated with her

a/n: inspired by the idea that boyfriend leah would be so toxic and iwl id happily accept it

------------------------------------------------------------

you’re on a trip with some of the united girls in ibiza- an after-season holiday before the world cup, which turns into you being dragged through crowds and running into what seems like the entire super league.

you properly meet leah there- you’ve crossed paths before in the season of course, it’s hard not to, when you’re trying to score and the blonde absolutely bodies you out of nowhere.

and much like during games- she crashes into you, only this time her drink spills all down your front, and her hands reach out to grip your arms to stop you from falling back.

“sorry ‘bout that sweetheart.”

she’s smiling at you while she says it- eyeing you up and down, her eyes twinkling with something. and your brain short circuits at the sound of her voice- your mouth going dry at the sight of her abs on full display.

“hey- you play for united yeah?”

all you manage is a nod- brain too preoccupied with the way her thumb brushes your arm occasionally.

“cool- i’ll see you around.”

she winks at you and disappears into the crowd again.

you stare after her- mouth open slightly and cheeks flushed.

“what are you doing standing there like a fish mate?”

Tooney jumps on your back- her arm wrapping around your neck.

“ewww- you’re all sticky too, what’s wrong with you?”

“Tooney- i think im in love.”

you’re out at dinner with the girls later that night- and they’re all having the time of their lives making fun of you for your little crush on the England captain.

“you know- if you wanted to make the senior team so bad, sleeping with the captain is a sure-fire way to do it.”

Ella and Mary high-five- their laughs booming, as they fall off their chairs, while you slink further down into your own.

“you know- i really, really regret telling you this.”

the two ignore you- too busy laughing, getting louder and louder the more you complain.

Alessia pats your thigh, smiling at you sympathetically.

A voice calls out over Mary and Ella’s laughing.

“right- what’s so funny then?”

Leah appears on the other side of the table- arms folded over her chest, and eyebrow quirked up in question at the two rolling around on the ground.

“nothing!”

you’re quick to interject, shouting way too loudly and averting your eyes from everyone when they stare at you.

“hey lee!”

Alessia gets out of her chair to hug the older girl, and the others follow her lead.

you stay in your chair though- eyes on your lap, hands gripping the chairs armrests.

you can feel eyes burning into you and you get up- announcing to everyone you’ll be at the bar.

you take a moment to catch your breath as you walk over, giving the bar tender your order and fumbling around for your card.

when you go to tap your card to pay for your drink, a hand reaches out before you can- a sleek black card shines at you and you follow the arm to see the face of leah williamson, smirking at you.

you finally look at her, she’s dressed in a black suit- her shirt barely buttoned, sleeves rolled up, ring clad fingers twirling her card.

“what’s your poison?”

“huh?”

she nods to the drink in your hand.

“oh- uh-“

she cuts you off before you can speak.

“i’m more of a whiskey girl myself, I must say.”

you nod fiddling with your drink.

“what’s your name anyway?”

Leah looks at you up and down- taking a sip of her drink.

“(y/n).”

“cute- look i’ll be honest, i find you very attractive, so, want to come back to my room?”

you wake up the next morning to a shirt being chucked at your head, taking it off you see leah lent against the doorframe, brushing her teeth.

“you should probably go soon.”

she disappears back into the hall without another word, and you throw your hands over your face groaning.

you’ve dug yourself into a grave- and every time you think of Leah- it gets deeper, and deeper.

well, maybe not when you think of her- ‘cause you’d have definitely fallen through to the other side of the world by now. but when you think too much about her- it some-how spirals into you sending her a text, and Alessia’s disappointed face as you abandon whatever you were doing in favour of ‘just one more kiss.’

stupid leah- with her stupid smirk, and her stupid voice, and the stupid way she knows exactly where to kiss you to make you weak in the knees.

stupid leah, and her stupid car, picking up stupid you.

“i hate her!”

thrashing around on top of Alessia’s bed you grab her pillow to scream into.

“do you?”

“yes! i do! she’s so frustrating. one minute she tells me i’m the ‘only one’- then i find her making out with other girls?! she only ever calls me when she wants something! i tried to tell her Lessi i promise- but when she does that stupid little smirk- oh my god! i can’t take it!”

“then why keep going back to her?”

you don’t make the squad for the world cup- it’s not exactly a surprise but it still stings a little. another year of “oh, it’s all right.” and “next year you got it!”

swallowing down the hurt you end up going out with the girls to celebrate anyway- throwing your arms over Alessia and Mary you kiss their cheeks.

you're about two drinks and four shots in- when you’ve been left alone at a booth, with no supervision you pull out your phone and text leah.

you hear a voice clear their throat- and you blearily make out Alessia in front of you.

“don’t tell me you texted her?”

“… no?”

“i hate you.”

your breathy voice wavers- brain foggy with the way leah attacks your neck, the older girl’s hands gripping you- one hand tangled in your hair, the other holding your hands together, pushing and pulling you in any direction she pleases. her lips curl into a smirk against your neck and she stops kissing you, and pushes you completely away from her.

“hate me huh? guess we can stop this.”

“no.”

“no?”

you glare at the shit-eating grin spreading on her face- grabbing the front of her shirt and yanking her closer to you.

“no.”

leah is fuming, and you’re loving it.

with mostly everyone gone in Australia- you’ve gravitated more to the blonde, much to Alessia’s disappointment, when she saw both of you making out in the back of Alex’s story one night.

tonight though- you’ve been flirting with this one girl, running your hands up her arms, giggling and squeezing her biceps.

you can see leah in the back- jaw clenched, her angry pout fixed on her face.

you don’t even know the other girls name- you just know she’s helping you make leah very, very jealous.

when you go to the toilets- leah follows behind you, slipping in and pushing you against the door.

she doesn’t speak- only gripping your face with one hand and shoving it to the side, while the other feels you up, she attacks your neck, sucking and biting.

“shut up.”

you smile.

"i didn't even say anything."

you wake up the next morning alone again- your neck mauled and dignity only slightly gone.

you find a note on your bathroom mirror.

‘you’re mine. don’t forget it.’ – l.w

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

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aliceramblez · 4 months

Text

BroZone Brothers With An Insecure S/O 😔💗

Tags: GN! Reader, Self-Deprecating Jokes, Low Self-Esteem, Abandonment Issues, Slight Body Insecurities. Fluff/Comfort.

A/N: Here we go with our first request! I really liked this idea as someone who has low self-esteem, and honestly it goes to all of y'all who think you're not good enough— cause you are! Also sorry it took a bit! I've been sick because the universe hates me 🙃

Feel free to leave a request & hope you enjoy! ^^

John Dory

At first, he doesn't really know what to make of it.

He finds it a bit strange, but doesn't question your odd sense of humor, and will sometimes even join in on the joke by saying stuff about himself, thinking it's some sort of inside thing between the two of you.

“Man, I can't believe I'm so clingy, sorry! Feel free to use me as a bad example, at least that way I won't be totally useless, haha!”

“Ha! You think that's bad? Babe, you haven't even seen me when I'm up at night just staring at the ceiling contemplating my life choices.”

It isn't until getting a good smack from Bruce and Floyd that he realizes you're actually being serious. And the prospect of that kinda puzzles him, not gonna lie.

“Look at you, tiger! Got yourself plenty of groupies already— Not surprising honestly. Don't have to worry about backups when you decide you're ready to move on, either!”

After a performance at the Pop Troll village, everyone is gushing over BroZone because of course they are. JD only barely manages to squeeze past the number of fans to get to you on the other side of the podium.

The oldest sibling looks at you in shock, and has to get closer to make sure he heard you right. “Babe, why would you say that?”

Caught off guard, you manage a nervous chuckle as you play with your hair. “I-I mean... Wow, would you look at the time! We gotta meet with Poppy and the others!”

John Dory stops you on your tracks and demands an explanation, which isn't really good for your poor heart. All you can do is kick the dirt and avoid his gaze, since that makes what you're about to say much easier to voice aloud.

“I mean... You're John Dory. You could date any troll you wanted and yet you're sticking with me. It honestly feels like a dream sometimes... And I'm scared of the day you realize you can do WAY better and decide to leave me.”

After processing this, he immediately holds your face in his hands and gives you the most serious expression you've ever seen on him. “I don't want just any random troll... I want you. You're my number one fan, and I'm yours, so don't even think about stuff like that, okay?”

After the exchange, he's always on the lookout for whenever your bad habit wants to kick in again and is ready to stop it ASAP

Spruce/Bruce

He notices it happens mostly when you're working at the cantina.

Whenever you get an order wrong, trip over your own feet or don't remember how to work one of the machines properly, you'll go into an awkward insecure flight response.

You'll say “Oops! Sorry! Clumsy Twinkle Toes, coming through!” while grinning and laughing along with the customers, but Bruce knows that it's affecting you more than you lead on.

It also happens whenever BroZone is getting ready to perform and you don't know what to do with yourself since you're “standing in the way”, despite being told multiple times that it's okay for you to be backstage with everyone else.

When he talks to you about it, you get really uncomfortable and just say that it's no big deal and that you can handle it.

“I've always been a clumsy person, so I guess that's always making me doubt myself over the smallest of things... Sorry if it's annoying.”

Bruce will then proceed to give you a huge warm hug and a kiss on the forehead as he whispers comforting words into your ear.

“Hey, I can be clumsy too! I've always been the worst out of everyone when it comes to choreography. Don't tell JD though, cause I know he'll throw a fit knowing I don't practice.”

He'll throw in other examples that may seem inconsequential to you, but you appreciate the effort nonetheless and smile and giggle through the embarrassing stories he shares.

He helps you get more confident by being there with you while taking orders at the cantina and praising you whenever you get something right— albeit in private as to not embarrass you.

Same goes with rehearsals, where he WILL drag you into the lounge area to hang with his brothers and/or Poppy and Viva when they decide to visit, too.

Overall he wants what's best for you and will try and push you out of your comfort zone, but only in a safe environment where he knows that if something does go wrong, it won't be as catastrophic as you make it out to be in your head.

You never stop thanking him for being your crutch during these times.

Clay

The moment he hears the words come out of your mouth he's completely flabbergasted.

First of all, who said those things to you? Because he swears he just wants to talk to them—

It's at a sleepover with his brothers and the gals at the Bergen Golf Course, and among the many games, snacks and movies watched, pictures are also taken.

As soon as you take a look at the array of selfies, you let out what sounds like a mix between a laugh and a sigh.

“I mean, at least it stays consistent— in photos, I look ugly. And in real life, I'm also ugly!”

As soon as those words leave your lips, Clay is at your side with an almost unreadable expression, only to snatch one of the photos from your hands. “How DARE you say that about the most attractive troll I've ever met? Shame on you!”

He then starts going around the room waving the picture around to his brothers, saying stuff like “Look how attractive my S/O is! I'm dating them!” while you're just blushing profusely and begging him to stop (even though deep down your kinda giddy about it).

After that day, Clay will do small gestures in which he reminds you how beautiful he thinks you are. Everything to outright saying it each morning, joking about it with his brothers, and even bragging about you to his friends in the Bergen Golf Course.

He's a simp and he's totally okay with that because it's you.

Clay feels like he's the luckiest troll in the world for being able to snatch someone like you since he's “the most boring and uninteresting of the bunch”, so he feels like he's hit the jackpot.

You immediately tell him that he's not boring to you and that he's the best boyfriend ever, which only causes him to smirk.

“Doesn't feel good to know the person you love feels so bad about themselves, does it?”

Finally realizing his reverse psychology, you give in with a laugh. “No, it doesn't. I guess... We can both work on that? Together?”

And so you do, and end up helping each other whenever one is feeling down in the dumps, as a sort of personal cheerleader. You truly couldn't have asked for someone better.

Floyd

You're the kind of person who's very vocal about your interests.

So it's no surprise that you have to catch yourself mid-ramble whenever you're talking about something you're either interested in or knowledgeable about. And with Floyd being such a good listener, it honestly slips your mind more times than you'd prefer.

After realizing you've been talking for too long, you turn pink in the face and start apologizing profusely.

“Sorry! You probably didn't need to hear all of that. They didn't call me ‘Chatter Box’ when I was younger for nothing! Haha...”

But Floyd could care less about any of that. He loves hearing you talk, not just because he's not much of a chatty person, but because he just finds it incredibly endearing.

He'll hold your hands in his own and give you the softest smile ever that just makes you think that it should be illegal to be THIS sweet.

“You're just so cute when you get lost in the moment like that. Besides, I love seeing you happy. By all means, I'm glad you get to do the talking for the both of us, otherwise we wouldn't get anywhere in this relationship.”

You laugh at his attempt to make you feel better and melt under the touch of his lips on your cheek.

After that, whenever you go out either just the two of you or with your group of friends, Floyd will encourage you to express yourself. He does this by either asking you a question directly or subtly incorporating you into the conversation by saying something like. “I think (y/n) knows about this kinda stuff. Don't you, love?”

Obviously this all happens with your consent beforehand, since he doesn't want to put you in a tight spot, either.

Either way, he always values whatever you have to say, since you always bring in new perspectives that maybe others didn't think about before.

He will also encourage you to be yourself and not try and match your topics of conversation with things you think other people will find interesting. You deserve to be happy by sharing what you love with the world.

Poppy and Viva are huge helps in the art of feeling confident by speaking your mind, and Floyd couldn't be happier for you.

You thank him by telling him about your day each night, in which sometimes he'll fall asleep to the soothing sound of your voice, which only warms your heart on so many levels.

“Goodnight, my prince.”

“Goodnight, my little chatter box.”

Branch

Just like Clay, this man is ready to throw hands.

Just give him a name and he'll get the job done before sunrise—

He notices that sometimes you struggle with finding outfits for different occasions, either something casual, dressy, classy, etc.

But it's not because you don't have anything in your wardrobe, on the contrary it's pretty much brimming. It's more the fact that you're not satisfied with any of them because you feel like you don't look good in them.

Branch tries to convince you otherwise, saying that you look great no matter what you wear, but you can't help but feel self-conscious in anything that isn't a good old sweatshirt.

He isn't knowledgeable in fashion (clearly) so he enlists the help of Poppy and The Snack Pack to try and cater outfits to your exact measurements, along with any other nitpicks you've had in the past with either texture or material.

I mean, Branch has backup plans to his backup plans, you think he wouldn't keep notes on what kind of stuff his S/O doesn't like— INCLUDING mundane stuff like their clothing?

He surprises you with these, and you can't help but feel attractive in them since he paid extra attending to the complaints you had from your own designs.

“I personally think you look great no matter what you wear. But if you feel so strongly about it, might as well get some stuff you'll actually enjoy wearing.” He'd said when you asked why he did it, and your heart just melted.

You vow to try and work on your self-imagine regardless, which he gets happy over and says he can't wait for you to see yourself the way he does.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls x reader #trolls branch #trolls spruce #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls floyd #branch x reader #spruce x reader #clay x reader #john dory x reader #floyd x reader #headcanons #dating scenarios

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onelittlespiral · 4 months

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Tf where someone's huge musky cock keeps turning others into massive muscle bros on accident?

FML: Cursed

Up front, I’ll say this one’s a bit different. Let me know if you all like it. -❤️

Everything was too bright. My head was pounding. Memories were fading in and out from last night. Fuck, how much did I have to drink last night? I stumbled out of bed, trying to forced myself towards the bathroom to take a piss. I had made a New Year’s resolution to quit the bottle. Yeah, so much for that. I managed a quick piss and splashed some cold water on my face. That helped a bit. At this point all I wanted to do was bury my head back in my pillow. Slowly, I shuffled back towards my bed:

“Yeah? You coming back for more of this?”

A man. A man was in my bed. A hunk of a man was flexing in my bed. My mouth hung open for a moment as my brain chugged to life. I couldn’t quite believe it.

“…God damn it! Uggh, what did I let happen?”

“What, not in the mood? I can be quite,” he started a little pec dance, “persuasive.”

I was not in a mood to be amused by his flirting. “No, no it’s not you-or at least it is you now but-” I stammered, “Look. It’s complicated. Get up, please, I need you out of here. If you take some time to… cool off… it should pass.” I paused a moment, “I’m sorry.”

Quickly, I started pulling together what clothes I could find that would fit his new stature and tossed them at him. Even facing away from him I could tell he was a little taken aback. I’m sure in his current brain he couldn’t quite believe he was being rejected. But I knew it was better for everyone that he leave now. I scooped up his old clothing and threw it all into a tote. It wasn’t his fault he was here in this situation, getting kicked out of a stranger’s house early in the morning. Maybe that’s why I scribbled down my contact info and slipped it into the bag. He would have questions later, he deserved some answers. By now he had managed to put on the cut off tank and the shorts I had thrown him. The shorts were a size too small and left nothing to the imagination, but it would have to work. I doubted his canvas shoes would fit over those behemoths. He would have to go barefoot. After a few awkward pleasantries where he asked me if we should lift together some time and I politely declined, he finally got the message and slipped out the door. I locked it behind him and slumped to the floor. I still had a headache.

It was going to be a long day. At this point I was awake, so I just decided to hit the shower. The steam helped clear my mind so I could try to piece the night together. It had been two years now and it was still happening. I wish I knew how to stop it. But looking back, I’m not sure what else I could have done. Every time it happened though, every time I saw his face, I just replayed that day again in my mind:

We were sitting at our favorite cafe when I broke the news.

“What do you mean? You’re breaking up with me?” my ex boyfriend was stunned. Truly, I don’t think this had ever happened to him before.

“Please don’t act surprised. We both knew this was coming. We aren’t good for each other.”

“Baby, we aren’t good for each other,” he cooed, leaning over and cupping my jaw, “We’re great together. You can’t pretend to deny it. I can feel that cock twitch, hear every moan when you’re inside me. Come on, let’s go home and I’ll bring you to your knees.”

“No. This isn’t about us in bed. This is everything outside of it. I don’t like how you talk to me, how you treat me, how you touch me,” I said, slapping his hand from my face, “and how you treat everyone in the world as your plaything. I just can’t put up with it anymore.”

That finally set him off, “Oh, you have no idea what I can do.” He snapped his fingers.

I watched as a man in a suit next to us dropped his book. He began to convulse, and I watched in horror. He reverted from his fifties to his late twenties in a moment, smoothing his wrinkles as his hair turned from silver to brown. His skin tightened around his swelling body, as his muscles easily ripped through his shirt and pants. A deep moan escaped his mouth as his clothes reformed themselves into a tank top and gym shorts. As a snap-back hat formed and tightened around his head, I grimaced, knowing that his mind was being assaulted with a new identity. I knew the look on his face well as drool flowed from his open mouth. Then, all at once it stopped. He just picked up his book and kept reading. No one else even seemed to notice what had taken place.

It was a thinly veiled threat and we both knew it. “See? This is the shit I’m talking about. What happens to him now? He had nothing to do with this, you just can’t contain yourself.”

“Oh relax, he’s fine. I didn’t dumb him like I do to you. No one will ever remember anything different. Though I imagine whatever new hires at his firm will be confused why the new boss is a jacked gym bro while everyone else in the office is pushing 40 and wearing suits.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I can’t! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I gathered my things to make my exit.

He came round the table, in a far less joking mood, “You’ll regret that,” he grabbed at my groin and cupped my package, “from now on, whenever that gets going, I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of me” I felt a stirring in my sack. Something had… shifted?

“What did you do?” my shouting had finally drawn the attention of onlookers.

“Good luck, baby. You ever want that resolved, you’ll have to find me.” With that, he turned heel and left.

Now, two years later, he was right. I had seen far too much of him. The water had gone cold. I turned the faucets off and stepped out to dry myself off.

The first time had been a shock. I had given myself time to heal from the relationship, but about two months in I decided to head to a bar. Immediately something was off when I entered. I saw a few old flings, and a friend or two who were surprised to see me there. But it was like when I entered the whole place shifted towards me. Men were buying me drinks and fawning for my attention. The bartender even slipped a few comments in. They all looked smitten with me, trying to get just a little closer. By the end of the night I had some twink sitting in my lap. I decided it was time to blow off some steam. I took him to my place, where he immediately began tearing off my clothes inside the door. I managed to get him back to my bedroom before he had my boxers off. Immediately he buried his nose into my bush. Admittedly I hadn’t been keeping shaved since the breakup, and I guess that was doing it for him. He went to town on my cock. I wasn’t prepared for him to take it in one thrust, but he wasn’t waiting. All I could do was grab his hair and hold on as he worked my cock like a pro. I felt his hair curl beneath my fingers as I held on for the ride, moaning as he pushed all my buttons. He knew just when to pull back to keep me edging, his thick fingers holding on as he devoured my cock. Finally I knew I needed to fuck him. I pulled him off of my cock, but as he stood up and his dazed expression met mine I screamed.

“Fuck baby, where have you been all of my life?” he said.

He was the spitting image of my ex. The hair, the muscle, even that stupid nickname. In shock I pushed him away as he gave me a look of confusion.

“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

He looked back at me confused, “What are you talking about? We just met like a few hours ago. You invited me over. Sorry.”

Something about the statement rang true. I only realized later it was because he apologized. My ex would never. “Did he put you up to this? What’s your name?”

“Hey, I’m not sure who you’re talking about, okay? I’m Justin. I was just looking for a good time.”

“Have you seen yourself? You don’t look like the twink I met at the bar.” I retorted

He looked in the mirror, and his face seemed to puzzle for a sec. I knew that look. He was trying to reconcile memories he had. Fake memories. Then he smirked, “Yeah, pretty hot right? I’ve been working out, getting that more twunk look going.”

So he was clueless then. It was weird seeing someone look so much like him, and have a mix of his mannerisms and others. He had certainly made sure his cockiness was implemented. The asshole.

“Look, I’m not sure tonight is going to work out. I need you out of here. Now.” That was a little mean, it wasn’t his fault. But he had to go. I gave him some of my ex’s clothes he had left lying around and pushed him out the door without saying goodnight. It was only next week when I went to the bar that I saw him again. He had seemingly gone back to normal, besides a very distinctive mustache and stubble he was growing now. It didn’t fit his thin, hairless body and it made me chuckle…

*BZZZZZT*

My phone was getting a call from an unknown number. I guess it was time to answer some questions:

-Hey, I found this number in my bag. This the guy from last night?

*Sigh*

-Yeah, it’s me. Are you, uh, feeling better? More… yourself?

-So I’m not crazy! What was that? What happened?

-I am so so so sorry. It’s a long story. Let’s just say my ex is… a looot.

-Well hey, who’s isn’t?

I chuckled

-You’re taking this surprisingly well. Most guys don’t want to look at me after all this.

-So this has happened before?

-Yes. But I promise I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten too drunk last night, and I know that’s not a good excuse. But I’m not sure what to do about it and at this point I’d starting to think I never will

-Woah, woah. Calm down. Would you want someone to come over? To talk to?

I paused.

-No, I think I’ll be fine.

-Please, I want to. I want answers and it seems like you need someone.

-I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Plus, I don’t think I can see you like that.

-I promise. I don’t think I have anything the same.

-Promise?

-Here, look

He did look back to normal. And he was quite cute. I can see why drunk me decided to pick him…

-Still, I’m not sure…

-Nope, it’s decided. I know the address, I’ll be there later tonight around 6. *click*

What had just happened? I think, against all odds, I just got roped into a second date.

God damn it.

#transformation #male transformation #musk #fml #jockification #reality change #muscle tf #jock

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imagines-all-day-everyday · 1 year

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friends

summary: *yn* and damon are friends. good friends. just friends. nothing more, nothing less. until elena's eighteenth birthday party and the captain of the waterpolo team comes along, leaving damon wondering how much he really likes that term.

warnings: swearing, drinking, fluff, vampire stuff, cheating (kinda??)

"What do you think?"

"Give me a spin."

*yn* resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she complied, shuffling her body around in a circle.

"Oooh I really like this one." Caroline observed. She shifted on the small couch placed into the middle of the boutique as she took a few moments to run her eyes over *yn*'s body.

"I think this might be the one."

This time *yn* couldn't restrain herself as she threw her hands up in frustration and huffed.

"Care, you've said that about all of them."

"I'm sorry, it's not my fault you look good in everything!"

*yn* groaned in response as she shoved the curtain across the metal rod, concealing herself from Caroline once more.

"I give up." She exclaimed dramatically as she pulled the red dress over her head. "I'm just going to go with the blue one."

"If that's what it takes for you to stop whining." She heard Caroline mumble on the other side of the curtain.

"I heard that!"

The shrill ringtone of Caroline's phone rung out through the store.

"Oh sorry Elena's calling, be right back."

*yn* shook her head as she heard Caroline answer the phone and hurry out of the store. She slipped the blue dress back on over her head just as her shoulder bag began to vibrate.

She couldn't fight the small smile threatening to tug on her lips at the Caller ID.

"Well if it isn't my second favourite Salvatore brother."

"Ouch, why is it that you're always so mean to me?" Damon's amused voice slipped out through the speaker.

"Because being nice is boring." She answered as she slipped out of the change room.

"Using my own logic against me, I've taught you too well." She smiled at his words as she made her way over to the mirror.

"What are you up to? Down for a little road trip?"

"Can't sorry. Helping Caroline plan Elena's birthday party." *yn* twisted around in front of the mirror, scrutinising the dress from every angle.

"Ah yes the big eighteenth how could I forget."

"Why? Where are you going?" *yn* asked as she finally drew her attention away from the mirror.

"Tennessee."

Her brow furrowed at her answer. "Another potential Stefan victim?"

"Yep. The sheriff gave Elena another location."

"She's not going with-"

"No way. Told her I'd take it on myself."

There was a pause as *yn* glanced out the shop window to make sure Caroline was still out the front on the phone, her ears occupied and unable to listen in.

"They're going to be like the other victims, aren't they?"

"Probably."

She felt herself grow nauseous at the thought of what Damon would no doubt find in Tennessee. Even his verbal reports back to her had been enough to make her skin crawl. If there had been any doubts before if Stefan was a ripper, they were long gone by now.

"Are we ever going to tell her?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. She heard Damon let out a sigh.

"If I find him and sort him out we won't ever have to."

"Alright just- just let me know how you go ok?" Despite her best efforts she couldn't hide the concern laced through her words.

"Always do. See you at the party."

"See you at the party."

"Oh *yln*-"

Damon's voice crackled through the speaker just as her finger hovered over the button to end the call.

"Yeah?" She pressed the phone to her ear once more.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Wear the red one." *yn* swore she could practically hear his smirk through the phone before he hung up.

*yn* whirled around, the phone still pressed to her ear. Her eyes darted around the store and then out through the windows that revealed the main street of Mystic Falls.

Her heart was thumping in her chest and a blush was creeping up onto her cheeks. Damon was no where to be seen.

"Ugh god Elena is still complaining about this party, I swear it's like no one wants to have fun in this town anymore- are you ok?"

*yn* turned to see Caroline staring at her, brow raised when she noticed her flushed complexion.

"Uh- yeah fine." *yn* lied, swallowing as she turned to go back into the change room.

"Ok..." Caroline studied her before turning her attention back to her phone.

She glanced up once more after a few moments to see *yn* emerging from the change room, back in her jeans and tank top. Her brow furrowed.

"I thought you were getting the blue one?"

"Yeah I um-"

*yn* glanced down at the red material clutched in her arms.

"I changed my mind."

The bass felt like it was pounding against her skull. Sweaty bodies were brushing against her on all sides. She could already feel the back of her knees start to slick with sweat as she weaved through the crowd.

Apparently this was Caroline's definition of a 'small' party. Bodies occupied every square inch of the Salvatore boarding house. Her eyes slid over the hundred or so faces. Some she recognised from school. Others she had never seen before in her life.

She smoothed down the front of her short dress as she stepped around a couple making out at the bottom of the staircase. She could feel multiple sets of eyes on her as she moved deeper into the house. The waterpolo team bunched in the corner didn't even make an attempt to look away as she walked past.

She smirked to herself. She'd shown up with the intention of looking hot, so far it seemed to be going according to plan. She surveyed the crowd once more. A flash of blonde hair caught her eye, which she instantly made a beeline for.

"Care!"

Caroline swung around at *yn*'s voice, a grin spreading across her lips as she looked her up and down.

"Oh my freaking god you look so hot." She squealed as she lurched forward and wrapped her arms her shoulders.

*yn* laughed and squeezed her tightly back. "So do you."

"Who the hell are these people?"

"Friends of friends." Caroline shrugged. *yn* raised a brow at her before turning to survey the room. Her eyes involuntarily searching for one person in particular.

"C'mon, I need a shot." Caroline announced as she grabbed *yn*'s hand and tugged her towards the drinks table.

*yn* grinned as she let Caroline lead her through the crowd.

"Is everyone here?" *yn* shouted over the thumping bass.

"I think so." Caroline shouted back, her eyes gleaming as she spotted a bottle of tequila.

*yn* turned around, her eyes scanning the crowd once more.

"Oh actually I haven't seen that reporter girl yet, what's her name - Andrea or-"

"What?" *yn*'s neck snapped back around to look at Caroline.

"Andie's coming?"

Caroline paused and glanced up at her. She had just been about to pour the clear liquid into a shot glass.

"Yeah, Damon insisted on inviting her. Poor girl probably didn't have a choice knowing him." Caroline remarked as she turned her attention back to the bottle in her hand.

"Right." *yn* swallowed. She pressed her lips into a hard line. "Yeah."

She felt sick as she glanced down at the tight red dress covering her body. She suddenly felt incredibly stupid. That for even a moment she had let herself divulge in suppressed fantasies, that she'd let herself get hopeful that something might happen with the vampire that was supposed to be nothing more than one of her good friends.

That she had let herself indulge those feelings that she had always worked so hard to deny and ignore.

"Ok here-" Caroline cut herself off, the shot in her hand for *yn* to take suspended in midair.

She studied her friend for a moment. She withheld a sigh when she saw the tears threatening to pool in *yn*'s eyes.

"Ok no." She announced, slamming the shots back onto the table. The sound made *yn* jump, her eyes focusing back on her friend.

"We are so not doing this tonight."

"Wha-"

"You are not letting your night get ruined by Damon Salvatore of all people."

"Care-" *yn* began, glancing over her shoulder quickly to make sure Damon wasn't in sight before turning back to her. "He's my friend."

"Oh please." Caroline scoffed as she folded her arms in front of her chest. "You don't think I can tell when my best friend is crushing on a guy?"

*yn* felt her cheeks redden.

"Although I've been trying to ignore it given it is Damon-"

She ignored the glare *yn* gave her. "- and I've been hoping it was just a little phase, but clearly that was wishful thinking." She sighed as she gestured to *yn* who had opened her mouth to respond.

"I've known for months, so don't even try and deny it."

*yn* clamped her mouth shut. She felt her resolve weaken under Caroline's stare.

"If you tell a soul-"

"-you'll stake me I know. Your secret's safe with me." Caroline insisted.

With that *yn* felt her shoulders slump in defeat as her barriers finally crumbled down.

"I like him. A lot." She admitted.

"I think I always knew there was something there, but I don't think I realised how much until-" She cut herself off and bit her lip as she felt her eyes begin to water.

Caroline's hard gaze softened at the sight. "Hey, it's ok." Caroline comforted her, running a hand down her arm. "Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?"

"No." *yn* shook her head as she sniffed. "No, like you said. I don't want this to ruin my night. It's been so long since we've actually had fun."

It was true. Before Damon and Stefan returned to Mystic Falls, *yn* was the life of the party, drinking almost every weekend and staying out way past curfew - much to her parents chagrin. But now, she could barely even remember what it felt like to be drunk and let loose.

Her answer made Caroline's eyes brighten. "Exactly, and you look way too hot right now to be crying over a guy."

*yn* followed Caroline's gaze to look around the room of warm bodies. Her eyes flitted over a few guys, her confidence sparking once more when she saw their eyes were already on her.

"You could have literally anyone you want in here."

She could have anyone she wanted, except for Damon. Almost as if she could read her mind, Caroline grabbed her hand.

"Ok, in my opinion you have two options right now." Caroline continued.

"You can go and tell Damon how you feel and let it out, or-" She paused as she raised the cup up to *yn*'s face. "You can get trashed with me and forget all about stupid boys."

*yn* raised a brow, not missing the hint of bitterness in Caroline's voice. It sounded a little bit too personal to just be about Damon. She decided to let it go however, as her eyes flickered down to the red solo cup and then back at Caroline.

"Make it a double."

Caroline's grin widened, "now you're sounding like my best friend."

*yn* watched as she eagerly poured extra into her cup, internally wincing at how free handed she was being with the liquor.

"To being hot and getting drunk." Caroline toasted once she'd handed *yn* her drink.

"To being hot and getting drunk." *yn* echoed, clinking their cups together before pressing it to her lips. She winced as the liquor burned her throat. She definitely had not missed that feeling.

"Ugh, speak of the devil."

*yn* followed Caroline's gaze behind her shoulder. She twisted around to see Elena and Damon making their way down the stairs.

Damon was dressed in black jeans and a blue button down with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He looked annoyingly hot, as usual.

The pair hadn't spotted them yet as Caroline and *yn* made their way through the crowd towards them.

"Happy birthday!" Her and Caroline chorused as they reached them.

"You look amazing." *yn* grinned as she pulled her other best friend in for a tight hug.

"Thank you, so do you. The red is hot." Elena chuckled as they pulled away from each other.

*yn* could feel Damon's eyes on her but kept her focus on Elena.

"You like?" Caroline asked her, gesturing to the party around them.

"I-" Elena cut herself off as she glanced around the room. "This is keeping it small?"

Caroline didn't answer her, instead shooting her an innocent smile.

Elena couldn't fight the grin spreading across her lips as she let out a dramatic and defeated huff, "what are we drinking?"

Caroline giggled and gripped Elena's arm and tugged her towards the drinks table.

*yn* watched them go, feeling Damon's eyes still on her. Caroline's words echoed in her head. She was right. Just because she had feelings doesn't mean she had to act weird or let it get to her. He was still her friend, first and foremost. There was no reason to change how she was around him.

She took a breath and made sure her face was the perfect picture of normalcy before turning around to meet his gaze.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." He answered, his eyes dragging down her front before flicking up to her face.

"Nice dress."

"Thanks, I had help picking it out."

A smirk twitched up onto his lips. "Well, they've got excellent taste. They're a good friend."

Friend. The word stung more than it usually did.

She forced a smile onto her lips, "that they are."

"*yn*! Get over here we're doing birthday shots!" Elena called out to her.

*yn* glanced over her shoulder and nodded before looking back up at Damon.

"Sorry, duty calls." She shrugged innocently.

"Please." He gestured for her to go. It was then that she noticed the bottle of bourbon in his hand. "Don't let me stop you."

She shot him one last grin before making her way towards Elena and Caroline.

Damon's eyes followed her the whole way there.

"I am every parents worst nightmare." Alaric sighed. "I am the chaperone teacher from hell."

"I love high school parties." Damon grinned as he jumped up onto the ledge.

"Isn't Andie supposed to be coming?"

"10 o'clock broadcast, she'll be here in a little bit."

"Uh huh." Ric remarked as he took a deep drink. Damon's brow furrowed as he glanced up from his glass.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What is what supposed to mean?"

"That little face you just made. Something wrong with Andie?"

"With your fake compelled girlfriend? No not at all." Ric drawled sarcastically.

"Hey it's a complicated dynamic ok."

"Or it's a distraction."

Damon's eyes narrowed even further. "Distraction from what exactly Ric?"

"Hey Mr Saltzman!" A loud voice prevented Ric from answering.

They both glanced up to see a tall, muscular guy approaching them through the door that led into the party. He was wearing a Mystic Falls High varsity jacket.

Damon frowned when he saw a flash of red behind him. He froze mid sip when he saw that flash of red belonged to *yn*'s dress.

"Jake." Alaric nodded in greeting.

Jake came to a stand still in front of them, a wide grin on his face. "*yn* told me you were chaperoning."

Then all eyes were on *yn*, who was now standing beside him. Jake's arm wrapped around her shoulders to pull her against him.

Damon felt something twist inside him.

"Had to see it for myself."

"Here I am." Alaric chuckled awkwardly.

"See I told you!" She giggled as she swayed against him. Her eyes were glassy and cheeks were flushed. A bottle in her hand.

"Badass Mr Saltzman." Jake complimented. It was then that his eyes landed on Damon. Confusion flashed across his features as he tried to place him.

"Oh Jake this is my friend." *yn* introduced, "Damon Salvatore."

Friend. It was what he was to her, the correct title to describe their relationship. But tonight, in front of this guy, it prodded something inside him. Unfurling inside him like a wasp injecting its barbed stinger into his veins.

"Salvatore... oh shit so you own this place?" Jake's eyes lit up in recognition.

"Home sweet home." Damon remarked, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice as he took a deep sip of his bourbon.

"It's dope. Sickest party location for sure." Jake complimented.

"Oi Masters!"

The group turned around to see another boy standing at the precipice of the home. "We're about to start another round, get your ass in here!"

"Beer pong." Jake explained to the group. "I'm the reigning champion." He boasted proudly. Damon rolled his eyes when Jake glanced down at *yn* for a reaction who giggled and patted his chest.

"I didn't realise we were in the presence of such a high performance athlete." He remarked earning a snort from Ric.

The liquor swishing around in Jake's stomach seemed to hinder his ability to pick up on Damon's sarcasm as he looked up and shot him another grin.

"Alright, it was nice meeting you Damon. See you in school Mr Saltzman."

Ric tilted his head in acknowledgement and Damon simply shot him a tight lipped smile.

"See you guys later." *yn* waved before bursting into a fit of giggles as Jake eagerly pulled her back inside.

Damon glanced down. His grip on his glass tightened. Jake's hand was entwined with hers.

Ric glanced between the disappearing couple and Damon.

"Careful buddy, you might break that glass."

"I hate high school jocks." Was all Damon responded with as he drained his drink and immediately reached for the bottle.

"What's his deal anyway?"

"Who? Jake Masters?" Alaric queried. He let out a scoff when Damon inclined his head.

"Uh I don't know, he's the captain of the waterpolo team. Not the greatest at history, thinks he's gods gift to women, the usual." Alaric shrugged.

Damon hummed in response. He swirled his drink in his hand absentmindedly as his eyes fixed on the doorway that *yn* and Jake had disappeared through.

"What time is Andie getting here again?" Ric asked him.

"Damon." Ric repeated after a few moments.

"What?"

Ric tried to hide his amused smirk as he studied his friend. "I said what time is Andie getting here again?"

"Oh uh-" Damon's eyes shifted back to the doorway. "11 or something." He spoke dismissively.

Almost as if they had a mind of his own, his legs pulled him up onto his feet. Unable to fight the pull to head inside anymore, he slammed his glass down. "I'm just going to go grab another drink."

Ric raised a brow and glanced at the nearly full bottle of bourbon placed between them. He smirked in amusement.

"You do that buddy."

"Oops sorry!"

Damon glared as another drunk teenager fumbled into him. He pressed the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back. His brow furrowed when the taste of bourbon didn't reach his tastebuds.

He glanced down and cursed under his breath when he saw it was empty. He tossed it to the ground before promptly plucking another bottle out of the hands of a girl passing him who looked like she was about to puke.

"No no, trust me you don't want this." He stared into her eyes, "you want to go outside and puke your guts out on the grass, not on my expensive leather couch."

He rolled his eyes as she nodded numbly and walked past him. He pressed his body against the wooden support beam, his eyes drifting over the unfamiliar faces.

"If you're looking for *yn*, I last saw her in the stoner den."

He glanced to his left to see Elena standing beside him.

"I wasn't. But thanks for the update." He answered as he pressed the new bottle to his lips.

Elena didn't need to know that he'd spent the last twenty minutes trying to find her and had now given up and decided to sulk in the corner.

"Whatever you say."

His eyes narrowed as he glared down at her. She met his gaze with an innocent smile. He resisted the urge to ask her what she meant by that, because a part of him knew exactly what she was hinting at - which had been exactly what Ric had been hinting at - and that was a conversation he wasn't exactly ready to face.

"Have fun sulking." She patted his shoulder and disappeared into the crowd. He watched her go as he took another gulp. What had started out as a fun night was quickly becoming a chore.

He stiffened when his ears detected a laugh that he knew like the back of his hand. Sure enough, it wasn't long until his eyes fell on *yn*.

He clenched his jaw when he saw that she was following after Jake Masters. He was still holding her hand, and was now leading her towards the centre of the room where a dance floor had formed.

Jake turned to *yn* and leant down, whispering in her ear as he encircled his arms around her waist. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck as the two began to move to the heavy bass.

As Jake moved, a vein in his neck pulsed out. Damon felt the veins stir under his eyes. All he needed was to sink his teeth into that vein and he could rip his head clean-

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you it's rude to stare?"

Damon ripped his eyes away from the couple, turning his steely gaze to Caroline.

"What do you want blondie." He muttered as he turned his attention back to the dance floor.

"Nothing. Just here to remind you that you are in front of hundreds of people so now is not really the time to get your dracula on."

He rolled his eyes, "I'm fine."

"Really? Because to me it looks like you're about to go rip Jake Masters head off."

Damon's gums ached at he mention of his name.

"Don't you have other things to be worried about blondie?" He sneered.

"Not really."

"Not even your little wolf boy getting it on with a leggier version of you over there?"

Caroline followed his gaze to see Tyler and none other than slutty Sophie of all people grinding on each other in the middle of the room. Caroline ground her teeth and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Doesn't bother me." Her voice raised an octave.

"You sure about that? I think that bottle is suffocating." Caroline glanced down and huffed as she loosened the grip on the wine bottle.

"This isn't about me." Caroline hissed as she turned to face him.

"This is about you admitting that seeing Jake and *yn* together is driving you crazy."

"Why would it?"

"Uh gee Damon, I don't know let me think, maybe because you have feelings for her?"

Her words were like a slap in the face. It was the first time anyone had said it out loud. Had dared to voice what they had all been thinking. All of a sudden it felt very real. Very much a possibility that Damon did indeed have feelings for his friend. He felt like the room was closing in on him.

Damon shook his head and forced a chuckle out past his lips, "sorry blondie, but you don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" She raised her brow, "so that doesn't bother you in the slightest?"

He turned his head and his eyes found *yn*'s figure instantly. His jaw clenched and he pursed his lips.

She had turned around to press her back against Jake's. His hands were roaming her side, brushing the red fabric higher up her thighs. He was placing kisses along her neck and muttering into her ear which was making her giggle.

That single wasp inside him had now spawned into a hive, stinging him from the inside out. Right then and there, he could have ripped the heads off every single person in this room. Tear them limb from limb. Anything to get rid of this sick feeling in his stomach.

A feeling he hadn't felt in a long time, perhaps ever.

A feeling you most definitely did not have towards a friend.

"Oh is that Jake Masters with *yn*?" Elena had reappeared beside him.

"Good for her, he's so hot-"

Damon didn't hear anything else after that, because in that moment Jake had leant in and whispered into her ear once more.

"What do you say we go find somewhere quieter to talk?"

His pulse was ringing in his ears, Jake's smarmy voice slithering around in his head. His legs had moved before he had even decided to. Making a beeline for *yn*.

He had no idea what his plan was. All he knew was that if he didn't get her away from his guy, he was going to murder someone. Jealousy had never agreed with him. It made him even uglier than usual.

"I need to talk to you."

*yn* twisted around in Jake's arms, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Damon standing in front of her.

"I'm a little busy."

Damon glared at Jake behind her before his eyes flickered down to her.

"It's important."

"I'm sure it can wait." She shot back.

Jake glanced between them, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand what was going on.

"Jake-" Damon began as he locked eyes with the teenager. "Why don't you go do us proud and win another beer pong championship." He cocked his head and grinned, "and don't come back."

Jake's eyes clouded over momentarily, before he blinked and his eyes focused on *yn*.

"Will do!" Jake grinned.

"Damon!" *yn* protested. It was futile as Jake's hands slipped from around her waist. They watched as he marched towards the kitchen with a determined pace.

"What the hell." She growled as she glared up at him. "I was having fun."

"Of course you were, who wouldn't be with the reigning beer pong champion of Mystic Falls." Damon drawled as he gripped her elbow and dragged her through the crowd.

"I wasn't planning on marrying the guy." She snapped back as he led her up the stairs. "He's hot, it's a party. You do the math."

He gritted his teeth at her answer as he guided her into his bedroom.

"You're drunk."

She huffed as she stormed into the centre of the room.

He shut the door. The noise from the party underneath them was immediately dampened. Now only a dull roar, background noise that occasionally seeped in through the floorboards.

"I don't want you making a decision you'll regret tomorrow."

She inhaled sharply before swivelling around to face him. Her fists clenched at her sides.

"That's not your decision to make."

"You're right. It's not." He nodded as he stalked towards her, "but I'm the one who's going to have to pick up the pieces if you get hurt."

She let out a bark of laughter. "Get hurt? I was dancing with him not running off to get eloped."

"Well we all know where it was heading."

Her eyes narrowed at his response.

"Last time I checked you're my friend, not my parent."

Friend. There it was again. That one little noun that was causing so much heartache. So much turmoil inside him.

*yn* knew she should leave it at that. But anger and liquor never mixed well inside her. And she was hurt and confused. All she had wanted to do was distract herself from him and her feelings, yet now it seemed like she couldn't escape him.

Now she felt like she was going crazy because if she didn't know any better, she could have sworn he was jealous.

"Don't you have anything better to do? Isn't your girlfriend supposed to be here?"

Damon didn't miss the way her lips almost curled into a sneer as they formed the word.

"She's working late."

His answer made her stomach drop. Of course they were still together. How stupid could she be to even let herself think for one moment that they might have broken up, that he might-

"Right." She nodded. "Well, I appreciate the whole friend intervention thing or whatever this is." She gestured to him as she took a few steps forward. "But I'm going back to the party."

She had made it all the way past him when she felt his hand curl around her forearm, rooting her in place.

"You seem to be really enjoying using the word 'friend' tonight."

Silence fell over the pair. Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled shakily. She opened her eyes once more and stared at the closed door. She could feel Damon's eyes burning holes in the back of her head.

His hand was yet to leave her bare arm.

"Well that's what you are."

She remembered Caroline's words as she tried to control her nerves. She exhaled as she tried to calm her beating heart as she turned to face him.

"Right?"

She kept her gaze defiant and determined as they locked eyes. He searched her eyes, seemingly looking for something in particular.

"I don't know." He began as he took a step toward her.

His ring band was burning into her skin. Her heart hammered.

"Do friends get the urge to rip the heads off arrogant jocks who touch their other friends?"

*yn* swallowed as she held his gaze. Her mind was going at a million miles an hour. She could barely process what was happening.

"Do friends feel physically ill when they hear the word friend being used to describe their relationship?"

Another step forward. His piercing green eyes flickered down to her lips and then back to her eyes.

"Damon-"

She cut herself off as Damon's hand cradled the side of her face. His teeth captured his bottom lip as his eyes once again fell to her mouth. The pad of his thumb glided over her bottom lip.

"I don't think I want to be your friend anymore *yn*." He murmured, his voice causing goosebumps to rise on the back of her neck.

"In fact, I don't think I've hated the word as much as I do right now." He whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.

The alcohol running through her veins was clouding her reasoning, not even giving her a chance to think about Andie or Jake, or what the implications of this in the morning would be.

But in that moment, she didn't care. All she could think about was the smell of his cologne invading her senses and the feeling of his fingers running along her hot skin. About how desperate she was to have his mouth on hers.

All it took was the slightest tilt of *yn*'s chin to connect their lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as he finally let go of her arm to bring his other hand up to her cheek, cupping her face in his hands.

Their lips moved in sync as she pressed herself against him, nearly letting out a moan at the feeling. Her hands threaded themselves through his hair as he moved one hand to ensnare her waist. His hand travelled down just as she-

"They're kissing!" The muffled voice on the other side of the door made them pull apart in surprise. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Caroline?" *yn* asked as Damon ran a hand over her lower back. Damon nodded.

"And Elena."

*yn* let out a breathy laugh as she turned back to look up at him.

"Moment ruined?" He asked, a rare smile spreading across his lips as he studied her.

"Kinda." She grinned back as she leant up to capture his lips in another kiss.

They pulled apart after a few moments, pressing their foreheads together as they caught their breaths.

"I have to say *yln*." Damon murmured, a smirk twisting up onto his lips.

"I love not being your friend."

I love this fic, it's been so long since I've just done a stand alone fic!!! As always, feedback is always appreciated. Please give it back here x

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