#and i hope everyone from that time who i’ve lost touch with is well. apart from sb. he can fuck off

[fingertipsmp3]

Like, moving to a big city in September 2020 only to be locked in a house with 4 strangers and basically never see the light of day for nine months was 1) a terrible experience overall and 2) not a bad setup for a horror series of some sort, but also I am nostalgic for a few things from that time

[13ghostlytitties]

MHA has ended: how do I feel?

Well, if you wanted my exact reaction, this was what I sent my friends after reading the summary:

So, It’s been years since I’ve actually read the series. Still, I’ve kept up with what’s happened in broad strokes, and I’d like to read it all in one go now that I know it’s finished and what’s happened (can’t be disappointed if you don’t have your hopes up, I guess). I know enough and have read the reactions of others enough to see that this ended, and the whole final war saga and what’s happened with it, isn’t especially popular with fans beyond those who just read for cool fights and don’t delve any deeper. My thoughts?

Well, it ended how I expected. More accurately, it didn’t create any new problems because, to me, everything people seem to be picking at is just the endpoints of problems that have existed in this series for a long time.

Let’s go blow-for-blow here. There’s some aspects like the stuff with the LoV that I don’t feel as confident speaking about because I don’t know as much, so ill be sticking with what I’m pretty confident in saying. We’ll start with:

1: Midoriya lost his Quirk, became a teacher instead of a hero

I would like to start this with a touch of positivity and say that, if he really isn’t gonna be a hero, I think hero teacher is very fitting for Midoriya. He’s got the personality for it, he has the experience for it, and it’s kind of a nice feeling that he’s there to help the ones coming after him.

So, personally, I’ve never been that into the way OFA works. I love Quirks that stick to the theme and idea that these are biologically mutations, especially when they play on classic superpowers (Shiozaki, Iida, Tsuburaba, Shoji, Ashido, Asui, etc.). Whether or not you think Midoriya should still have his power or not, the fact that he lost it and thus didn’t become a pro hero is not a new problem. That’s what happened to Ragdoll, to Hawks, to Togata (temporarily), to Knuckleduster in Vigilantes. No Quirk means no superhero. We learned that in the first chapter. Sure, it ended with All Might saying to Quirkless Midoriya “you can be a hero,” but you then you turn the page to chapter 2 and we see what he meant - “you can be a hero because I’m giving you a Quirk.” Midoriya not being a hero after losing his Quirk shouldn’t that shocking as the idea that you can be a Quirkless hero has never been on the table. “But wait,” you say, “Midoriya got a special power suit at the end and got to be a hero again with everyone else. All Might did something similar against AFO, so doesn’t that count as being a hero with no Quirk?” Well, sure, but it took 8 years and apparently a shit-ton of money to make it happen. They’re the exception to the rule. And how did they become the exceptions? Connections and accolades from when they did have Quirks. It’s the same reason why Midoriya couldn’t have his full-circle “you can be a hero” moment with an actual Quirkless kid like he was: it’d be a lie, to the kid and the audience. Speaking of…

2: Plate Boy can be a hero too!

Like I said, they couldn’t have this be a Quirkless kid because that’d go against everything that we’ve been shown up until now. Because of that, this moment is severely handicapped, to the point where I wonder if having the lie would’ve been the lesser of two evils compared to wasting a lot of time of this ending on someone who’s anxious about a starting point that is, in essence, better off than Midoriya’s starting point. If you can’t actually complete the full circle, you can’t really have that full circle moment, and the fact that this story could not have that should make the disparity of where it started vs. where it went all the more clear

3: the class losing touch, drifting apart

This may be just me, but I never really thought of Class 1-A as that much of a unit. So many of them are kept to the sidelines, so many arcs just focus on Midoriya and a couple others, usually just Bakugo and Todoroki (another group I never bought as a real cohesive group), to the point where it felt rare to have them feel like a team. Can you really say, just reading the manga, that they’re in the same vein as the Straw Hat Pirates, the Stardust Crusaders, the Black Bulls, etc. It was only rare times that they all came together in a big way, and it usually kept things to little cliques. Now, I’m not saying that the solution would have been evenly juggling 20 characters and making them all having unique connections with each other. It’s not feasible for a professional, serialized manga that has to worry about pacing, audience interest, worldbuilding, characters outside of their class, etc. (Honestly, I think the best way would have been 4 classes of 10 students instead of 2 of 20, but that’s neither here nor there.). All I can really say is, can you really be so heartbroken about 20 people who only rarely were seen interacting and working all together mostly drifting apart?

4: the structure of the Hero Association and stuff like the rankings are still in place

Again, I must say, this is an issue that’s been deeply rooted in the series. To begin, a lot of time throughout the series has indeed been about how messed up hero society has become. Even in the first chapter, we get a lot of time to take in how commercialized it’s become, how many heroes see it as just a job or even as a fame contest for riches and glory. Mt. Lady in chapter 1 was the example given of someone out for fame and money, so much so that she’s placed herself in an ill-suited environment for her power (a crowded city where she can’t maneuver properly without causing serious damage) just because it’s where more people will notice her and where there’s more villains to fight. The function of Bakugo in Chapter 1, remember, was that he was an egotistical glory hound looking to ride his innate power to glory, fame, and riches.

And further in, when we first learn about Endeavor’s deal, we’re being introduced to him as the logical endpoint of this system. He’s obsessed to the point of extreme measures, including buying a woman to marry with a strong Quirk, forcing her to have enough kids that he’ll get a suitable heir, and harshly training that heir into someone who can take his place in the societal totem pole that is the ranking of heroes. So, with all that said, why am I saying that it’s not a surprise this stuff is still around in the epilogue? Well, it’s because all of this bad stuff gets a facelift as time goes on. Bakugo became popular, so his image was cleaned up for the reader, the whole “get rich” angle was dropped, and other characters started loving and respecting him without the need for his shitty attitude to change. Endeavor was given a long, screen time-hogging “redemption arc” where the people he terrible abused forgave him. Even Mt. Lady became more noble as time went on. MHA has a serious issue with retconning its traits and brushing aside heavy topics for the sake of easy solutions and appealing to who and what is popular with fans. And, sure, give the fans what they want, but don’t do it at the cost of your story. Anyway, this is become a ramble, so I’ll get back on track. Hero rankings and the institutions of pro heroes is another part of the story that gets this sort of easy solution. It’s still around, but it’s run by “the good guys” now (It’s not like power corrupts, right? I’m sure the guy who idolizes Endeavor wouldn’t have an issues with the idea that people in power can use that power for bad things). They’ve learned, really, for true, so everything’s gonna be fine now, pinky-swears it. It really is just like Naruto’s ending, in that sense. The structures of power that have been criticized from the start are still around in the end, but because certain issues (mostly unrelated to that institution’s issues) have been dealt with, and because “the good guys” are now in charge, we’re just supposed to expect things are fine now and will be for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve really got to see. I know there are more issues people are talking about, but those are the ones I have something to say about. So, what’s the verdict? Is it a good ending? A bad ending?

It’s an ending, that’s enough.

[konig-is-bbygrl]

“And I Will Cherish It Forever” Konig x GN! Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, anxious Konig, one brief description of you being shorter than Ghost, Google translate German, ANGST

Note: I am so sorry for any weird formatting. Tumblr desktop is weird

Tags: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

Word Count: 3.1k

Dating in adulthood was never easy. Military jobs made it even harder. This was something König had found out a long time ago. His career prevented really any secure attachments with romantic partners. The constant moving and the harsh reality of his career made prospective partners hesitant to get close to him. He had his own reservations about bringing someone into his hectic, wild world. About letting someone in. Showing them what lies beneath his sniper hood and grease paints.

König’s damaged mind became too much for any past partners he did manage to get close to. His chosen career path left him with many scars, physical as well as mental. The scars that webbed across his muscled body similarly made their way across his mind, leaving pain in their wake. Many people did not have the stomach for such pain. That was until he met you. A person who could handle the pain that plagued his mind. The night terrors that shook his body awake each night. The anxiety that took over his conscious and unconscious mind. You weren’t afraid of him or his scars. Rather, you had taken to help him through the pain in his mind. Through fear. 

Leave was rare for Task Force 141, especially longer stints of leave. However, it was to be cherished when it did happen. When Price informed the unit that they would be taking a month-long leave from missions, König’s heart soared. An extended leave meant he would be able to finally go home and see you. After long stints of missions, he would begin to grow restless for your touch. Sleep would end up being rare for him to find. A luxury he could not squander. The only thing that could get him to sleep while enduring long missions was pure exhaustion. He would only be brought down by forces outside of himself. 

“We’re getting leave,” Price told them. “A month. So make your arrangements.” 

Suddenly, everyone was on their phones, talking to family or relations to get things set up. König immediately texted you. 

König: Mein Leibling, I will be getting a month's leave, starting this weekend! :)

Mein Hase: That’s wonderful! I’ll be there to get you, bright and early, so be ready!

The message from you made his heart leap into his chest. How long had he been gone from you? Four months? Five? After a while, the time of the two of you being apart got lost in the shuffle. Long stints of separation seemed like forever. Endless missions and orders from agencies drew his focus from the distance and time apart. 

At the end of the week, König was a ball of nervous energy. He always was when you picked him up from the base. His eyes searched the parking lot desperately for your vehicle. He scanned every parking space until his eyes locked on your car. Slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder, he took off in a brisk walk that eventually morphed into a jog. He rushed to your car.

Upon seeing him, you opened the door and got out. “König!”

As soon as you were within arms reach, he was on you. His arms wound themselves tightly around your waist, squeezing you tightly to his chest. His heart thumped against his ribs almost painfully. 

“Oh Mein Liebling,” he whispered against your head. “I’ve missed you so much.”

As he spoke lowly, his voice caught in his throat. He was just barely holding onto his composure. His militant strength. The large man released you hesitantly. 

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Let’s go home.” You smiled brightly up at him.

That smile was so sweet. It gave him hope. It lit up his world from the inside out. That smile carried him through the darkest days, the loudest explosions, and the most traumatic battles. 

Climbing into your car, König was content with the silence between you. It was commonplace between the pair of you to not talk about what he had encountered. Rather, he would listen to you ramble on about all the things you had done while he was away. Anything. The cute dogs you saw at the park, the movies you saw, the new music you listened to. König was happy to sit and listen to you talk. After a short while, you rolled up to the house.

The sight of the house brought comfort to his bones. A feeling of safety washed over him like a tidal wave. He could feel his body begin to relax already. The pair of you got out of the car and went inside. Upon entering, the relaxation seeped deeper into his skin. The smell of your soap lingering throughout, the soft light seeping in from behind the sheer curtains, the familiar creeks and groans of an old building. König nearly fell to his knees in relief. 

Your hand came to settle on his chest, grounding him. “C’mon, big guy. Let’s get you settled. I was thinking of making that baked Mac and cheese you like for dinner.”

After a long, hot shower in his own home, he came into the kitchen, where you were making dinner. He had scrubbed his skin raw, trying to wash away the things he had seen. The things he had done. The lives he had taken. As the dirt and grease paint washed down the drain, his mind wandered away from the battlefield and back home.

“Mmm, that smells wonderful. Finally, some food that isn’t MRE’s or Price’s terrible cooking,” He chuckled fondly, his now exposed lips pressing into your shoulder.

His large hands found your waist, squeezing you gently. He pressed himself into your back, watching as you cooked dinner. He continued to hover around you, reaching for things for you, even if you could have easily gotten them yourself. Frankly, he was under your feet. Although, he was normally like this after long tours. You didn’t mind.

Placing the dish in the oven to bake, you turned to König. “I’ve taken up making bracelets again!”

“Did you?” He asked inquisitively.

You showed off the bracelet around your wrist, made of several different colors of embroidery threads. Gingerly, his hand met your wrist, turning it over to inspect the bracelet. His fingers traced the pattern of knots and ties that made up the bracelet. 

“I could make you one!” You offered excitedly.

Your excitement made him smile. “I would love one. I will wear it like a good luck charm on the battlefield. Keep me safer than any armor.”

You chatted over dinner, talking about anything the two of you could think of. The topics ranged from sports games to stupid jokes Ghost had told over the comms during the missions. You talked and talked until a yawn breached your lips.

“Come, Mein Hase, I believe it is time for bed,” He moved to your side of the table, gently taking you into his arms and lifting you.

König, with his massive size and strength, carried you to the bedroom, where he gingerly laid you down on the plush bed. Your arms wound tightly around his neck, begging him to lay with you. He acquiesced your silent demand, laying in the bed next to you. His hand very quickly found your neck and hair, stroking gently. His touch soothed you into the sweetest sleep you’d had since he’d left.

He would lie awake for a few more hours, just watching your chest rise and fall. Periodically, he would touch your hair or your hand, just feeling you under his fingertips. You sustained him. You gave him a reason to stay alive. There was nothing more dangerous than a soldier with nothing to lose. For the longest time, he didn’t have anything to lose. But now he did. Now he had a reason to want to walk off the battlefield. 

The rest of the leave went on like this. Homecooked meals, hot showers, time spent together, both in the bedroom and out. The month felt all too short. Before either of you was ready, you were driving him back to the base. The car ride there was silent, but not a comfortable kind of silence. The kind of silence that suffocated both of them. Unspoken words floated between them.

You parked your car in a spot at the back of the parking lot. Turning in your seat, you looked at him. He had donned his sniper mask before leaving the house. Your eyes bore into his own. 

“I uh, made you something,” You spoke softly to him.

In your hand, you held a bracelet, big enough to fit König’s enormous wrist. His eyes wrinkled behind his mask, indicating a smile. He held out his hand for it.

“The perfect good luck charm,” he mumbled as he put it on his wrist. “There, how does it look?”

“It looks perfect,” You smiled wetly.

“Oh, Mein Hase, please don’t cry. You know I don’t like it when you cry.”

His hand held yours tightly. A squeeze communicating a silent promise to return to you. Like he always does. After a few more quiet moments together, you walked him to the gate of the base. Standing before the gate, he lifted his sniper mask just above his lips to plant a passionate kiss on your lips. His hand found the small of your back, and yours found the back of his neck through the hood. For a few short moments, you felt whole. You felt complete. Before he was pulled from you once again.

Reluctantly, he pulled his lips from yours and lowered his sniper hood. When the hood was over his face, he wasn’t your caring and adoring boyfriend. He wasn’t the lover that worshipped the ground you walked on. No, that man had been replaced with a ruthless, cold-blooded killer. A man who spoke in hushed tones over the comms to his teammates as he ended the lives of his enemies.

You parted ways, him to the barracks to get settled and you to your vehicle for the drive home. Immediately, König was given his next assignment. There were some high-profile targets needing to be taken out in a faraway country. He really didn’t listen in the briefing. His mind kept wandering back to you. Your smile, your smell, your kind hands on his face, the way you calmed his nightmares. His hand moved to his newly adorned wrist. He began twisting the bracelet nervously. 

The next morning, they left for the location of their next mission. Once again, König was distracted and nervous.

“König, pay attention, mate,” Soap spoke, forcing him out of his thoughts.

“J-Ja, uh, sorry. I’ve been a bit…distracted.”

“Just stay focused,” The other man placed a gentle hand on his large shoulder.

König fought hard to stay focused for the rest of the mission. It was simple. Get in, eliminate the designated targets, and get out. What the team hadn’t accounted for was the number of guards surrounding the targets. The area around the building was teeming with hired muscle, making a good vantage point difficult. Eventually settling on a building across from their main target, König settled at the front window.

“In position,” he muttered into his comm.

His eyes stayed trained on the building, waiting and watching. What he didn’t know was the building he stood in was rigged to blow. He could hear a ticking noise, deeper in the building.

“Scheiße! Ghost! The building is rigged!” He called into the comm, panicked energy flooding his body.

“Get out, now.” Ghost’s low baritone rumbled firmly.

König ran from the building mere seconds before it burst into flames and destruction. The outward force shoved König to the ground. The heat from the building singed his pant leg, burning his skin. His mind began to go hazy, a fog resting over him. Pain crept like a vine from his calf to his shoulder. Shrapnel had pierced his back and legs, blood pouring from the wounds.

His mind swam. Where were Ghost and Soap? Did they have evac coming? The ringing in his ears prevented him from registering the voices of his teammates through the comms. He looked at his hands, bloody from being thrown down by the explosion. The bracelet you made him stuck out from his sleeve. A silent reminder of the promise he had made to you, a promise to return to you. It was his good luck charm. No, no he couldn’t succumb to the darkness surrounding his vision.

Despite his pain, he climbed up to his knees. A groan ripped from his throat at the pain in his back and legs. Silently, he began to pray to whatever god would listen to a killer like him. Please, please give me strength. I need to get back. I made a promise.

However, even in his prayers, he collapsed once again. His vision swam and the darkness on the fringes of his vision began to encroach closer, threatening to overtake him. As he watched the sky above him, a familiar skull mask came into his view. The voice of his Lieutenant was just barely audible, commanding him to stay awake, that MedEvac was coming. The call of sleep was too much for König’s heavy eyes to handle. It overwhelmed him and dragged him down.

When he came to, a beeping drew him from a deep slumber. The next thing to register was the pain. A deep pain in his muscles. Prying his eyes open, more of his world began to process. The white walls, uncomfortable bed, incessant beeping of machines, and your voice carrying above it all. 

“-your job! I can’t believe you, Ghost! As a lieutenant, your job is to keep him safe! And yet he was put in a rigged building? What is wrong with you?”

You sounded angry. Gods, did you sound angry. Forcing his head to turn, he saw three silhouettes. A tall, muscular one belonging to Ghost being shouted and pointed at by a shorter one, yours, and a third, thinner silhouette belonging to Soap. Soap placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Lass, take a breath. None of us knew the building was rigged. If we did, we wouldn’t have sent him in. I know you’re worried, but being angry isn’t waking him up any sooner.”

His calming tone appeared to soothe you, your voice falling quiet. You spoke again.

“Oh, Johnny…” you whimpered. “I’m so worried. You heard what the doctors said. Burns, lacerations, shrapnel close to his spinal cord. They pulled him off the medication a week ago and he’s still out. What if…” your voice failed in your throat. 

König’s hands itched to hold yours. To comfort you and tell you that it was all okay. When he tried to speak, his throat felt tight. Forcing his heavy, aching body to move, he put his legs over the side of the bed. Bandages covered both his shins and calves. You had mentioned burns. He stood, but his knees shook beneath him. The machines he was hooked to began beeping, shouting at him to get back in bed. 

He simply ignored the loud beeping and the pain in his body. Clutching the bed frame, he took a step, only for his knees to fail him and hit the ground. His eyes shifted to where he had seen your shadow. You were gone, all three of you were gone. 

“N-No, w-where-” he tried to speak.

Gentle hands grabbed his shoulders. He swung his arm towards whoever the hand belonged to. “König!”

His head whipped around. You were there. Right there. He reached out to you but was pulled to the bed by two sets of strong, firm hands. Ghost and Soap eased him back into the hospital bed.

“Mein Liebling, please, please come here,” his raspy voice pleaded.

You stepped forward. “I’m here, König, I’m here. You need to lie still. You got badly hurt on the mission.”

The moment you were within arms reach, his hands were on yours, tugging you close to him. He held you tightly to his chest, whispering sweet nothings in German into your hair. He held your face between his hands, observing you. Your eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. You had been crying. His eyes moved to look at your hands. Your fingertips were bitten and picked, a few having bandaids covering them.

“Oh, Mein Hase, what have you done to yourself? Have you not been caring for yourself?” He asked, soft eyes staring at you through the sniper mask you had suggested the doctors put on.

“König, you’ve been asleep for three weeks. I couldn’t eat, and I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t do anything but hope you’d wake up soon,” Your eyes began to water. “No, no, no tears Mein Leibe, please. My heart can’t take it,” he pleaded, his hands shifting to hold your face.

For a long moment, he just held you as you sobbed into his chest. As you clutched him. Ghost and Soap watched the scene until they had to interrupt.

“König. You’re back on the base. You’ll be here in the infirmary for a while while you recover. Then you’ll be taking a long medical leave,” Soap explained to the large man gently.

König nodded pensively. A long leave sounded nice, but he knew the road to that leave would be painful. He was right. For the next month, he had to deal with tests and therapies, needles, and medications. Your presence was the only thing that kept him sane during the long recovery.

Eventually, he was able to leave. He was able to return home.

“Easy, easy. Just take it slow,” You whispered to him as you walked him to the car.

His arm was slung around your shoulder, your hand on his chest. His back was still sore and his legs still had their moments of weakness. You eased him into the car and shut the door before climbing into the driver’s side. Out of habit, König reached for his wrist to fidget with the knotted bracelet that previously adorned his wrist. It was gone.

“M-my bracelet!” He exclaimed, panic flooding him. “It's gone!”

You immediately shifted in your seat to soothe him. “König, darling, the field medics had to remove it when they took off your clothes to stabilize you. They cut it. It got thrown out with the rest of your tactical gear.”

The phrase “thrown out” brought tears to his eyes. That bracelet kept him going during the mission and kept his nerves calm while watching enemies through the scope of his rifle. 

“We can make you another one when we get home. I will show you how. I promise,” you reached over and held his hand. He brought your hand to his lips. “Thank you, thank you.”

The pair of you drove to your home, ready to heal, together.

[that-demigirl]

Born To Die - Epilogue

Chapter Summary: The mission is over and now everyone recovers

A/N: I'm really proud of this story because it's my first fanfic that I've finished. I hope you all have enjoyed it, but this isn't the last you've seen of Allison and Erin

Erin had never been happier to be on dry land in her entire career in the navy. Returning to base with the detachment meant debriefings and meetings. Admiral Simpson had let them all know that after all of the debriefings they would be allowed two months of leave, but anyone who directly played a role in the mission was required to see the base psychologist and get cleared before they could fly again.

Her first night back was spent at Pete’s with Bradley. Erin needed to know they were both there, assurance they were really alive. Pete and Bradley hadn’t really talked, but a temporary truce was in place while they all recovered. Erin didn’t know how she was gonna move on from it all, but it helped having her family back.

“Hey, what’s going through that brain of yours?” Bradley asked her one night while they shared a drink on Pete’s back porch.

“I almost lost you,” Erin looked at him, “And I don’t ever want to feel that again.”

“You won’t,” Bradley promised her, taking her hand in his own, “If I have anything to say about it, you won’t.”

“But you don’t,” Erin responded, “You don’t have anything to say about it. We have no control over any of it. Over where we get put, which missions we get put on. I could lose you as easily as you could lose me. And I just barely got you back, Bradley.”

“That’s what we signed up for, Erin,” Bradley pulled her closer to him on the bench they were sitting on, “But we have us to fight for. Someone to come home to. I promise you I will spend every flight, every mission, every deployment fighting to come home to you.”

“Okay,” Erin nodded, placated for the time being, “And I promise the same, even though that’s more up to Allison than me.”

“I’m sure Allison wants you to come home just as much as I do,” Bradley chuckled softly.

“Hmm,” Erin hummed in agreement, laying her head on his shoulder, “Well, that’s cause she wants to be home with Seresin.”

“How did that happen?” Bradley asked Erin, changing the subject, “Those two are the most explosive pairing I’ve ever seen, I swear.”

“It actually happened during my first run at Top Gun,” Erin told him, “You know how the three of us were in the class before you and Natasha? Well, the two of them could not stay away from each other, ever. I just remember Javy and I placing bets on when they would figure their shit out and just get together.”

“How was Hangman at Top Gun?” Bradley questioned.

“Oh, worse than he is now,” Erin joked, laughing slightly, “God, he was insufferable. But me, Allie, him, and Javy, we were unstoppable together. A little quartet during Top Gun, we fell apart afterwards. I know Allie and Javy stayed in touch though.”

“Yeah, that’s how Tasha and I were during Top Gun,” Bradley told her, “She was this spitfire of a pilot and had decided that she and I were going to be friends and there was no arguing with her. She reminded me of you and it was back when we weren’t talking.”

“I’m happy you had somebody when I couldn’t be there for you,” Erin told him truthfully, “But I hope it never reaches that point again.”

“I won’t let it,” Bradley assured her, “I’m different now, so are you.”

“Yet we still found our way back to each other,” Erin commented, smiling at Bradley. She couldn’t imagine being with anyone who wasn’t Bradley Bradshaw.

—

Allison was startled out of getting ready by a doorbell ringing through the little base house that her and Erin were sharing. She opened the door to reveal Jake staying there. He was in a nice button down, jeans, and unsurprisingly, cowboy boots. In his hands he held a bouquet of assorted flowers. When he saw her his eyes widened slightly. Her hair was loose and down, she was in a very simple dress that complimented her figure, and she had on makeup that wasn’t too crazy yet still complimented her facial features.

“Cat got your tongue, cowboy?” Allison teased, taking the flowers from his outstretched hand.

“Can’t help it when I’m looking at a pretty lady, such as yourself,” Jake responded, following Allison inside as she went to find a vase for the flowers.

“Who said I was a lady?” Allison smirked at him, “So, you finally going to tell me what we’re doing tonight? You have not been very forthcoming with details.”

“I figured I could cook for you?” Jake asked, raising a bag of groceries that Allison had been too distracted to see.

“Don’t ruin my kitchen,” Allison told him, which he took as permission to start working. Allison gathered two wine glasses for them, grabbing a bottle her and Erin had stashed away. Jake had gotten some water boiling for pasta and was beginning to make pasta sauce.

“Where’s your other half?” Jake asked her as he began cutting some vegetables, “I figured I’d see her lurking somewhere around here.”

“She’s with Maverick and Rooster,” Allison responded, “She only comes home if she needs clothes or other essentials. Other than that, she’s been staying with them.”

“I wonder how pops feels about having two lovebirds under his roof,” Jake chuckled softly.

“I think he’s just happy to have them home,” Allison took a sip of her wine, “If what Erin has told me is anything to go by, it’s been awhile since the three of them have seen each other.”

“Hmmm.” Jake seemed to be lost in thought as he continued to cut up the vegetables.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Allison asked, setting her wine glass down on the counter.

“Erin told me something… after that first fight we got into before the mission,” Jake admitted, “I can’t help but think about it.”

“What did she say?” Allison questioned with a tilt of her head.

“She said that one of these days you’re going to stop giving me chances,” Jake responded, moving to put the vegetables in a pan on the stove with some tomato paste.

“Oh…” Allison nodded, watching Jake cook. He couldn’t quite meet her eye, but Allison could see something written across his features. She chose to call it regret.

“I just don’t, I don’t want to mess this up again,” Jake finally looked up, “This is going to sound bad, but all I could think when I heard Maverick, and then Rooster, go down is thank god it wasn’t you.”

“I get it,” Allison admitted to him, “That’s the exact thought going throuh my head when Maverick chose Rooster instead of you.”

“Why?” Jake asked her, his surprise at her words evident in the way his eyes widened, “I was horrible to you before the mission. I have done nothing to earn your worry.”

Allison stepped closer to him and cupped his face with one hand, “You didn’t have to earn, you just had it. You are deserving of kindness and good things. I don’t know why you acted the way you did while we were training, I’m not going to push you to talk about it, but nothing you do could make me hate you.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Jake looked at her, that one question almost breaking her, “I thought I was going to lose you on that damn mission and I just thought that I would never get the chance to tell you…”

“Tell me what?” Allison asked, her eyes searching his as if he held all the answers to the universe.

“That I love you,” Jake confessed, glancing away afraid. Afraid she was going to reject him even after all this time.

“I love you too,” Allison confessed in turn, drawing his eyes back to her. They stood their for a beat, just looking at each other, before Jake leaned down and captured her lips with his own. She kissed back, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders.

“The foods going to burn if you keep distracting me like that,” Jake quipped once they had pulled away. Allison giggled softly, shaking her head in amusement.

“You better get back to work than,” Allison pushed him gently, “Cause I’ve been promised dinner.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jake turned back to the food, stirring the vegetables in the sauce as the pasta boiled in a different pot. The rest of the night was easy. A little wine, a little food, maybe something a little more. It was the peace Allison had been searching for…

—

Somebody had the bright idea to make a ‘Daggers’ group chat. Erin and Allison both had their bets on Fanboy. From that group chat came the idea of having a barbeque before everyone was sent back to their separate squadrons. Allison had to do some extra convincing with Jake and Erin was the one who convinced Pete to let the group use his backyard, but soon enough the backyard barbeque had made its way out of the group chat.

“Erin! Allie!” Neil yelled out, catching both girls' attention as they walked into the back yard, plastic bags full of paper plates and plastic utensils in tow, “Come play cornhole with us.”

“Against you and Callie? No way,” Allison refused, “When have Erin and I ever stood a chance?”

“Oh come one,” Neil pouted slightly, “We promise to take it easy.”

“Come on, Allie,” Erin dragged her over to their friends. Allison went along, shaking her head the entire way. After about twenty minutes of playing, Bradley and Jake both walked over to the group. Allison and Erin were genuinely shocked to see the two of them joking with each other.

“What did you say to Jake?” Erin muttered to Allison.

“Nothing, honestly,” Allison muttered back, “I thought it was something you said to Bradley.”

“What are our favorite girls up to?” Jake asked, slinging an arm around Allison’s shoulder. The girls could hear Neil and Callie complaining about the two distracting them from the game.

“Just getting our asses kicked at cornhole,” Allison replied, “What about you two conspirators?”

“Yeah, when did the two of you become best friends?” Erin crossed her arms, looking at the two boys.

“Rooster over here was just groveling at my feet for being his savior,” Jake smirked at Bradley, teasing him.

“If you say so, Hangman,” Bradley rolled his eyes, placing an arm around Erin’s waist. Allison and Erin made eye contact and started giggling. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Natasha yelled out to the quartet, “Mav has an announcement for us all, stop flirting and get over here.”

The four all moved to gather around Pete, who had just rejoined the group after getting pulled away for a call. Pete was full of barely contained excitement as he looked at the pilots and WSOs. 

“So I just got off the phone with Admiral Bates,” Pete explained, “And it has been decided that the Daggers will be staying here as a new fighter squadron. I was supposed to wait until all of your leave was up, but since I have you all here I might as well. Your main mission will be flying missions that no one else can, but you will also be pulled in to help teach Top Gun classes.”

“All of us, sir?” Allison asked, looking around at everyone.

“All of you, even the ones who didn’t fly the mission,” Pete confirmed. Cheers erupted amongst the group, everyone turning and hugging each other as excited chattering fell over the crowd. They were getting to stay together, all of them. 

“I knew they couldn’t split us up,” Erin declared, “We’re just too good to be split.”

“Everything will be completely explained once your leave is over,” Pete told them, “But for now just enjoy your time off. You all earned it.”

Taglist: @djs8891

[rowan-of-waterdeep]

Not sure I'll ever use this in a fic, but the scene has been niggling at me for a couple of weeks, so I caved and wrote it down. 🤷‍♂️

Dessert

I walk over to Wyll’s tent. He’s standing, his weight mostly on his right leg, swirling a glass of wine, staring at it in contemplation, a slight smile on his face. When he hears my footfall, he looks up, and his face brightens.

“Well met!” he says, his voice soft. Am I imagining a caressing tone creeping into the simple welcome?

“Hi,” I say, flopping onto a cushion and sprawling on the ground. “How are things going for the famed Blade of Frontiers?”

“Apart from being branded as a faithless warlock for all to see, you mean?”

“Mmm. Apart from that tiny detail,” I agree, twitching an eyebrow as I look at him sidelong.

He chuckles, sitting on the ground next to me, heedless of his clothing. “Well enough, I suppose,” he says. “I have everything I need. That village held a few bottles of wine the goblins didn’t manage to plunder. How about you?”

“The same, without the wine. But we all know that a bottle of wine and a goblin to slay is all the Blade needs to stay happy,” I say, elbowing his knee gently, curious to see if I can get a rise from him.

He takes the hint and reaches into his tent, snags another glass, pours me a generous measure of wine.

“My thanks,” I say, sipping slowly. “I can always rely on you to share your stash.”

He turns to me and his mouth opens a little as if to question me, his eyes wide with curiosity, but then a curtain draws closed over his face, his mouth shuts, and he turns his head away.

“What is it?” I ask, keen to dig under the calm facade that Wyll presents to the world.

“It’s nothing.”

“Then ask,” I say, smiling. “For the sake of making conversation, if naught else.”

“Am I so bland a conversationalist, then?”

I shake my head. “A little quiet, yes. But you’re soothing. What’s your question?”

“What did I do? Why do you like me least?”

I sit up and swivel to stare at him, aghast.

“You’re right, I should shut up,” he says, drawing his legs in to stand up. “Blame the wine.”

I lean forward and put out a hand to touch his, hoping to keep him in place. “Will you stop for a moment? Why in all the hells would you think such a ridiculous thing?”

He frowns. “I’m not offended. I’ve clearly done something to bother you that caused you to always visit me last on your rounds. Been too annoying. I thought you might give me an opportunity to mend my ways. It has been a while since I’ve travelled with companions, you know. Too much time on one’s own can send a person peculiar, I know.”

“Wyll.”

“What?”

“You’re a very silly man.”

“I’m not sure how to rectify that character flaw.”

I laugh so hard I fall off the hard cushion, while he stares at me with bemused eyes. Eventually, I calm and wipe my face of the tears of hilarity that rolled down my cheeks while I was lost in the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“I suppose I’m glad to have amused you, though I’m not sure I grasp the joke.”

“Ask me why I always visit you last, when I make my nightly check-ins with everyone.”

“I don’t think I appreciate being the butt of your joke.”

“Ask me.”

He heaves a sigh, and I can see him decide that humouring me is the fastest way to get this over with. “Why do you visit me last?”

“Because I like to finish my evening with something sweet. Someone undemanding, who will sit with me, offer me a glass of wine, and ask how I am feeling. Wyll, you’re not a chore. You’re my dessert.”

He stares at me. “I’m your what?”

“The sweetness that lingers after the work and stress of the day is done. That rewards me for the harshness of effort. That follows me down into my dreams, to lighten my sleep.”

He blinks, slowly and carefully, and puts down his wine glass. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Why the hells would I do that if I dislike you?”

He frowns, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head as his understanding of our entire relationship is upended. “You don’t dislike me, then.”

I press my lips tight together to keep another burst of laughter inside and shake my head.

“Why do you keep laughing?”

“Because I’m a fool. I thought – when I sat down with you at the end of the day, in preference to all others – I thought I was making something clear.”

He tilts his head, watching me.

“Shit,” I say, frustration roiling inside my chest. “You’re actually going to make me say it, aren’t you.”

“Considering I find myself at a loss to follow this conversation, I think I must insist.”

I sigh. “I’m developing quite a fondness for you, you oblivious twit.”

A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. “And you thought calling me an oblivious twit was a good way to start courting me?”

Laughter bursts from me, and this time Wyll joins in. 

“Clearly I’m not the only twit here,” he says, picking up his glass again and sipping, letting the smirk play over his face.

“Hmm. At least we have something other than an illithid parasite in common.”

“Oh? You’ve been looking?”

I nod, taking a gulp of the wine. It’s harsh, but the sear in my throat distracts me from the embarrassment threatening to close me down. “It’s a little difficult, getting to know you. You’re a little…” I shrug, unwilling to be critical.

“Impressive?” he asks.

“I was going to say –”

“Heroic?”

“I mean…”

“Larger than life?” 

I look up from the wine glass to see a grin on his face. He’s teasing me. “The Blade of Frontiers is taunting me?” I ask, carefully placing the wine glass on the ground next to me. “I am devastated! Agonised! Bereft!” I clutch my chest melodramatically and fall backwards into a sprawl on the ground. I crack open an eye to see Wyll bent over, laughing so hard he’s actually spilt his wine.

“You’re sillier than I realised,” he says, still chuckling, holding out a hand to help me back up to a sitting position.

“Ditto,” I say, smiling at him. “You know…” I trail off, wondering if he headed me off earlier because he doesn’t want me getting to know him better.

“Go on,” he says, sobering.

“I would like to get to know you better,” I say, slowly. “But if you’d rather just be part of the team, not complicate this by making friends, maybe more, I understand.”

The smile that spreads over his face is pure sweetness, like the first new honey after a hard winter. “All you had to do was ask.”

[meesherbeans]

Broken Silence [OL1 MC/Derek Fanfic]

I've been slowly building up my headcanon for Lexi, the MC in my OL universe who ends up with Derek. (In my world, all three of the guys end up meeting their soulmates -- everyone ends up happy!) I finally finished her version of the confession scene from Derek's DLC. It's below the cut, and I hope everyone enjoys it!

If you'd like to read it on AO3, here is the link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/53983693/

It had been a long first day back in Prism Vista, and Lexi sighed as she sat on the bed in Derek’s guest bedroom. Seeing his family again was very nice, and she was looking forward to meeting up with her mom tomorrow, but she was already exhausted. It was a long journey to get here, and seeing Derek again in person had been more… intense than she’d anticipated.

She’d known for years, well over a decade, that she felt more than friendship for Derek. Even as a preteen, she found herself always wanting to spend time with him. Wanting to finally tell him how she felt. But… she always got too nervous. What if he didn’t feel the same way? For a while, she thought he did, but he never said anything. Derek was always the more outgoing and brave one, so if he still hadn’t said anything after all those years, clearly, he wasn’t into her the same way. And so she bottled all those feelings up; the only thing worse than her heart being broken was the idea that their friendship could be damaged.

Keeping those feelings contained was manageable while they were both at college; daily texts and the occasional phone call meant they stayed in touch, but she wasn’t confronted with that heavy sensation in her chest every day… not like in high school when she saw him daily. If she were feeling particularly sad or wistful, she could always tell him she was too busy with classes or work, then let herself get over it before continuing their friendship like nothing happened. It was safe, if incredibly lonely.

When he ran over at the bus station this morning, though, she instantly knew this trip would be the death of her long-guarded secret. She was so grateful that he never took her silence personally because she was practically in shock after seeing him again. How had he gotten so tall, so buff, and so handsome? It was really, really good that he wasn’t able to see her face when he hugged her because it was beet red.

“Hey Lexi, can I come in?” His deep voice echoed through the door, accompanied by a knock, jarring her out of reminiscing about the day.

She flinched and gasped, then realized he wasn’t in her brain, so he had no idea what she was thinking. “What? Oh. Sorry, yeah, c’mon in,” she mumbled. Yikes.

He strode into the room and sat down on the bed next to her, not seeming to think anything of their proximity. “So, everything looking good in here? Didn’t forget anything, did you?”

“Oh. Uh…” Grateful for the distraction, Lexi paused to go over a mental checklist, making doubly sure she didn’t need to pick anything up. From everything she could recall, she had thankfully managed to not completely embarrass herself. She chewed on her lower lip before finally shaking her head and looking up to smile at Derek. “I’ve got everything, but thanks.”

His bright grin flashed again and he nodded. “Good! I’m not going to lie; it’s surreal to finally have you right here. Feels like we’ve been talking forever, but it’s really happening. You’re with me again.”

The pure joy on his face twisted her stomach up into knots. Sitting next to him felt like sitting next to the sun, and she quietly stared at him, mind moving a million miles a second. He was the only person who’d ever made her feel this way. They were a team growing up, always looking out for the other. As she got lost in his green eyes, she admitted to herself that the years apart hadn’t diminished her love for him; if anything, she suddenly felt even more sure than ever before.

“Lexi?” Derek asked, his brow quirking and cheek sinking in as he bit it anxiously. She was probably worrying him.

Was it really time? Now, at the end of a long day, in his guest bedroom? Derek deserved the world, but Lexi knew that she couldn’t waste any more time. They could have lost years, depending on if he felt the same way, and that fear spurned her into action. She took a deep breath and tried to force the words out. Well, any words. “I – uh. Derek, can I… can I tell you something? That I wanted to talk about earlier. I… thought it’d be… better in person. Rather than… over the phone.”

Wow. Great, articulate start there, Lexi.

When she began to talk, regardless of how nervously, Derek’s brow smoothed out, and a gentle smile graced his lips. Apparently, he didn’t mind how poorly she spoke, so long as she was talking to him. He was so wonderful. “Of course. You know you can always tell me anything. We’re a team,” he firmly reminded her.

There was no turning back now. Every time she tried to deflect or change the topic in the past, he had always known and wanted to get her to tell him what was actually bothering her. It was likely he’d do the same again if she faltered. Lexi hesitated and gazed at him, trying to will the words out. This shouldn’t be that hard! Just say it! Say it! I love you! I really love you! I always have!

Fear crept up the nape of her neck, mingling with the anxiousness and excitement swirling in her head. If he didn’t react well to this, she’d be ruining that team. Her lips parted, but no sound came out, and she started to falter. Just as she was about to lower her eyes and try to come up with a good excuse, she felt his hand on her shoulder. Was he comforting her? That was the last straw.

Lexi summoned all the courage left in her and lifted her hand, cupping his cheek. If she couldn’t get the words out, this would have to do. There’s no way it wouldn’t get her point across. She slowly tilted her head up and steadily pulled him down, pressing her lips against his.

Time seemed to stop, and she waited for a moment, marveling at how right this felt. Just as she was worried he would push her away, she felt him tentatively kiss her back, soft and unsure. The excitement tingled down her spine, and Lexi had to pull away after a few moments, overwhelmed by the sensation.

Her green eyes slowly slid open to look at him again, desperate for any sign. She did it. She kissed him. She kissed Derek. The fingers that still gently rested on his cheek were shaking, but she couldn’t stop it; adrenaline and pure fear were coursing through her veins, and she could barely force the words from her frozen lips. “…I… I love you,” she whispered, voice breaking at the end. “I always… have.”

It felt like an eternity as she sat there, trembling and hanging on for his response, whatever it would be. She was patient, though; after waiting for years, another few moments felt like nothing.

Derek stared at her with wide eyes, seemingly blindsided by her confession. His eyes pulled themselves from her gaze and glanced down as he stared at the floor, thinking silently. The way his brow twisted brought tears to her eyes. He looked upset, not happy. This was a mistake! She froze, dread slowly flooding her body from head to toe. Oh, no.

Stiff fingers slowly curled into a delicate fist, and Lexi withdrew to hold it against her mouth, unable to process how utterly crushed she felt. She was wrong. Their team, she ruined it. He trusted her more than anyone, and she just did… that. Her head dipped, trying to tuck away her face in her hoodie like a turtle in an attempt to hide her expression.

“…I really messed this up. I’m not good enough.” Rare self-loathing crept into Derek’s voice as he softly began to mutter to himself. “I have never been, I…”

Something caught his attention mid-sentence, but Lexi was too mortified to look. She’d done enough damage. Her fist loosened slightly and lifted to try and cover her eyes before he could see that the tears had silently begun.

His hand gently clasped her upper arm and slid up to hold her shoulder. “Wait, you’re crying? No, forget I said that… Lexi, forget I said anything!” The anger in his voice melted as he begged her to ignore what had just happened.

Lexi weakly wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed before she was able to make herself glance back up at Derek. The panic was still there on his face, but he looked more… scared than upset at this point. Oh no, what if he thought she was worried and wanted to comfort her? This wasn’t about her… she’d already ruined everything, so the last thing he should be worried about was soothing her! She held his gaze, insecure and gutted.

“No, I…” Derek’s free hand rose to roughly scratch through his spiky hair a few times, burning off some of his irritated energy. He sighed and quietly pleaded with her, his voice barely more than a rough whisper. “Wait. No, not again. I can’t. I… can we try that again?”

Was he giving her a chance to take it back? Maybe it wasn’t too late for forgiveness; she felt a fraction of the burden on her shoulders lighten, and she nodded as she bit her lower lip. Anything to try and fix things.

He reached to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb, giving her a tight, nervous smile. “Thanks. Did you… wanna go first, or should I start?”

“Uh… I don’t know,” she admitted in a whisper, plagued with doubts. She had no idea what he was planning on ‘trying’ again, and she was terrified that she’d mess it up.

“It’s okay, I’m here this time.” Derek’s fingers gently pressed into her arm as he tried to give her a comforting squeeze. “We’re on the same side here. It’s okay.”

We’re on the same side here. Lexi slowly blinked and stared up at Derek, unable to stop the hope from welling up in her chest. Did that mean he… also…? Her lips twitched, but she managed to school her expression down to a faint smile even as her brow quirked into a faint frown. Was this actually happening?

He silently nodded, and his lips softened into an encouraging, painfully affectionate smile.

Maybe… she didn’t make a mistake before. She lifted a hand again to cup his cheek, then paused to gauge his reaction to the move. When he leaned into her touch with a tender look in his eyes, Lexi took a deep breath before she pulled him back down to her once again. Slowly. She gave him every opportunity to stop her, but he clearly wasn’t interested in doing that; their lips met again, this time with both parties quite aware of what was happening.

For over fifteen years, neither of them had ever gathered the courage to confess, and this kiss was equally unhurried. Their long-repressed feelings finally bubbled to the surface; Derek’s arms smoothly circled Lexi to pull her close as her fingers dug into his hoodie, needing some kind of anchor. The feel and taste of their lips as they slowly explored each other was intoxicating – nothing had ever felt so right to either of them for their entire lives.

Eventually, the need for fresh air won out. Derek reluctantly pulled back and stared down at her, his confession breathless and utterly sincere. “I love you, Lexi. I really do. You’re amazing.” He continued to hold her flush against him, a hand sliding to tuck her hair behind an ear.

“I… love you, too,” Lexi whispered, lightheaded with relief and glee. Her eyes slowly blurred as more tears involuntarily formed, but this time, she was content to let them come. They were happy tears, a welcome change from the usual. She smiled widely to let Derek know that it wasn’t a problem, and she let out one broken note of a chuckle. Was it really real this time?

He pulled her down and into his chest, which let her bury her face in his hoodie. “Damn, I wasn’t prepared for this,” he murmured through a wide smile. She could feel his voice rumbling in his chest as she slowly wiped her tears on the fabric with a shake of her head.

“Me, either… but… you’ve always been good enough.” Lexi leaned back enough to peek up at Derek, filled with worry about what had happened in the middle of it all. “Why would you say that? I… you’re the best person I know.”

Derek’s lips pursed as he lightly frowned. He mulled over his words for a while and shifted to pull her under his arm, securely holding her against his side. “I… why wouldn’t I be?”

She silently gazed at him, brow furrowed. That was an unkind and stupid question for him to ask her, of all people. Why would she ever think he wasn’t good enough? She just risked a panic attack to finally tell him that she loved him!

When it was clear she wasn’t going to give him an answer, much less agree with him, Derek sighed. His eyes narrowed before he averted his gaze. “I’m not entirely dense. I knew that I was important to you, and that meant a lot to me. But… that’s not the same as being in love with me. I told myself that story enough times so that I could get through the day. I guess I was in denial.” He ducked to rest his cheek on the crown of her head and murmured, “I didn’t want to hope, to mess up what we already had.”

Lexi hesitated, not entirely willing to admonish him for something she had also done for years. Up until this morning, she was patently convinced there was no way he felt the same, and so she should suffer in silence. “I… can’t blame you for that. So did I,” she meekly admitted.

A squeeze accompanied his gentle chuckle. “We’re a pair, huh?”

Butterflies filled her stomach at his simple line, tickled at how different it already felt to be referred to as a pair, and she smiled softly. “Yeah. But… you know that’s why I turned down that deal when we were kids, right?”

Derek blinked and pulled away enough to glance back down at her, confusion written all over his face.

“You don’t remember the deal?” Lexi felt a small wave of disappointment at the idea that he would have forgotten the cute little conversation they had that one summer.

He nodded quickly, and she had to stifle a smile at the urgency he put into the motion. “Yeah, I definitely do. But… why did you?”

She could feel her cheeks warming up, and Lexi shyly directed her gaze at his shoulder instead of his eyes. “Well, um. It’s because I didn’t want to be a backup. I… wanted you to actually want to be with me when we were adults,” she confessed in a murmur.

His hand suddenly slid under her face, and he tilted her chin up with a thumb and index finger. “Well… I know that both little Derek and Lexi would be happy to know that it ended up working out. Eventually. Thanks to you.” He gave her that winning, sunny grin before assertively pulling her close and offering her another, warmer kiss.

Lexi twisted her arms up and over his shoulders, her hands linking behind his neck as she let herself get swept away by his touch. They still had a lot of things to discuss, but those could wait until tomorrow. For tonight, they had earned this respite.

[starjxsung]

hai bb <3 ive missed youuu! i hope you’re doing so well.

i’m glad you received a lot of support from the neighborhood and that you raised awareness as well. it’s heartbreaking that these things happen and people get away with them more often than not </3

i’ve been bed rotting a lot lately. this semester was so stressful that i gained like 30 pounds bc ✨stress eating✨and i have not been able to lose them bc ✨pcos✨ (oh the things we have to go through as women </3). and i can’t handle looking in a mirror or thinking about outfits for lolla or lolla in general (only minho falling in love with me will break the curse😪) but i manage it through rewatching comfort shows and reading feminist literature that discourages my perfectionist needs.

i’ve never rewatched kingdom entirely soooo new bedrotting material👀 thanks!

rhodes island kitten sent me!! he/she’s doing so well but the mom is ever so protective and won’t even let me touch him/her anymore😪 (she only likes men)

the kitten interview is my new comfort skz content is2g. i love seeing non-cat parents handle kittens. it’s hilarious. everyone struggling and lee know just like “yeah i live like this”. channie was so good with them too! petition for cat dad! chan fr. and the claws!! my cats used to do that so much and at that age they don’t really have too much control of them so it is not for the faint of heart. i felt for them 😂

i haven’t preordered the album yet😪 and probs won’t order it until after lolla bc i have no self control either and kinda went off with my spending on baby stuff for my nephew (who’s due in a month btw such excitement! much scary!) and ateez comeback (kpop doesn’t help my finances).

i looooove your junhan pc aesthetic! i didn’t know you liked xdh🥹🥹 im waiting for my album to arrive bc i preordered it with some other things that weren’t in stock but it just shipped out🥹 i shall update on my pulls✨

take care bb! i love youuuu🫶🏻 i hope you have the best week ever!

MY ANGELLLLLLLL 🫶👼💘❤️💞 it’s so good to chat with you on here again I’ve missed you so so dearly

THE BEDROTTING…. IS SO REAL………… last week I genuinely woke up at 6pm and I thought I just napped or something for a good minute bc I was like there is no way I just slept the entire day away. There was in fact a way bc it was literally just 6pm and I lost my entire Saturday 😍 this bedrot slay

NAURRRR not the kitten who only likes men !!!!???.?.?.?.?.?..? PLSSSS my cat at my parents’ place is so particular to men for some reason and I’m like. GIRL. STAND UP. GET UP. Luckily Momo hates everyone so she’s kind of feminist in the “I only fw my mother” kind of way. Also side note she has so many fans in my apartment complex now and there’s a family with kids who look for her every day to take pics of her in my window 😭😭 she naps in my window all day long when I leave it open while I’m working so the whole neighborhood just ADORES her lol it’s the cutest thing everrrrrr

The amount of times I’ve watched the skz kitten interview. oh my fucking god. Jisung’s little “say something to the world” HWLELPPPDLDKKFDJ I genuinely cannot pick who’s more cutie between them 😭 Chan never struck me as a cat person but in hindsight he gets along with everyone and everything so. makes sense 🫶😭 and Minho is just Minho ofc

IM NGL I only preordered to get a signed album and it wasn’t until after I checked out that I realized I bought the regular ones and then the signed ones sold out 😀 I was like. Oh. Oh! Ok. My wallet is CRYINGGGGG but at least it’s preordered???? LMAO 💔💔💔

I bought my first xdh album a few weeks ago and I’ve been dragging my jh pcs around like a ghost child with their haunted victorian doll oh my god I am OBSESSEDDDD WITH HIM 🤞I also got so many xdh posters with it for some reason so I finally caved and hung all my big ass pob posters in my room and it fully looks like a kpop store in here now LMAO 🚶‍♀️YES update all your pulls !!!!!!!!! I’m so excited 👼

ALSO THE SKZ MEME PLEEAAKKXKXKDKEK SOOOO FUCKING REAL the way my sister texted me the shinee version of that meme this morning 😭😭 I love you bb I hope you have the best week !!!!!!!!!!!! 💓💓💓💓🫶🫶🫶

[chrisgates]

TIMING: July 25th through August 1st LOCATION: Downtown, Oldtown WARNINGS: None SUMMARY: ChrisTopher is having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day week month year. He lost his name, he's having horrible nightmares and he lost his wallet. What else could go wrong?

I'm talkin' to myself in public, dodging glances on the train. And I know… I know they've all been talkin' about me. I can hear them whisper, and it makes me think There must be somethin' wrong with me. Out of all the hours thinkin', somehow I've lost my mind…

“Mr. Gates? Hi - we just need you to sign here if you’re extending your stay.” “Oh yeah sure. That - hm, this is wrong? That’s not my first name. I mean, everything else on here is right except for that.” “Oh? Are you staying in room 237?” “Yeah, I am, but-” “This was the name given at your time of check-in, but we can amend that for you. I just need a valid driver’s license.” “Oh, okay..? That’s weird. Sure, here.. I appreciate that.”

The universe thought itself clever and funny to do such a thing to someone so young and full of hope. Chris would have argued against it if his dad didn’t think it was funny, too.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up a package. Gates, Topher.” “Christopher? Or just ‘Topher’?” “Just Topher.” “Nah, sorry dude, I don’t have anything here with your name on it. You sure it’s just ‘Topher’? ‘Cause I got a ‘Christopher Gates’ here.” “... Yeah, I’m sure. That’s not me.” “Huh, weird. Guess there’s two of you! What a small world, huh?” “Yeah, small… Okay, I guess I’ll check back later.”

Heavy heart pounds after raised voices, suspicious shoulder glances with whispered words. This was trepidation at its finest and it was one of Chris’ very best friends. He knew the feeling better than he knew himself. Life became a delicate dance between the two, always together, always in sync. On bad days, it was hard to tell them apart.

“Drink for Topher!” “Yeah, tha- hey, sorry, that one’s mine.” “I’ve been waiting forever!” “Okay? This one has my name on it, I’m sure they’re making-” “That’s not your name.” “Wh-?? Yes it is.” “Nuh uh! You seriously don’t remember? You did my prom pics and that’s not the name on your business card. How do I know you’re not the one trying to get a free drink??” “I… Because I paid for it?? It’s literally on my receipt!” “Yeah whatever.” “I am so sorry about her. Lemme remake you a new one.” “.... Fine, sure.”

On bad days, he didn’t know who he was anymore. Friendly smiles became knowing and lingering gazes turned to stares. The nightmares that plagued his already troublesome sleep kept him both debilitated and overtly alert. His mind wanted to run, his body wanted to fight — it exhausted him, so much so that he called off of work. The knuckle shaped dent in the dessert fridge door was the last straw.

“Excuse me?” “What?” “Oh, I’m sorry for bothering. Are you that photography guy? Uh, Christopher is it? Sorry, my friend gave me your card and I was-” “Oh my god. That’s not my name.” “Oh. Really? It’s just.. Your picture is on here and I thought you were-” “That’s not me okay? I don’t know who fucking made these but that’s not my name! Where did your friend get this?” “Sorry! I’ll leave you alone..” “No- who gave this to your friend??”

Chris was familiar with the tumultuous waves of irritation that came every few weeks. It was the same rhythm as years prior, a rhythm he hadn’t yet figured out how to interrupt. It stole time from him, lied to him, and made him believe that everyone was out to get him. It seemed to destroy everything he touched. Paranoia was an unwelcome visitor, but at least it was consistent. It kept him inside and away from people, people who could very well set him off. 

Between the nightmares and his ever present confusion on his name, which he was told was stolen and he’d need to get it back, Chris felt like he might explode.

“Hey! Pendejo! You got a problem?” “... No, I don't have a problem.” “You were lookin’ at me funny. See, I don’t like it when people look at me funny so you do have a problem.” “Sorry if you thought that but I don’t have a problem. I’m tired and I was just trying to get home.” “Are you callin’ me a liar?” “... No, I just - I don’t want any trouble. I just want to go home.” “I think he’s callin’ you a liar, man.” “Yeah he is, the fuckin’ gringo. How’re you gonna make it up to me, huh? You got cash? Gimme your fuckin’ wallet!” “Yeah he looks like a bitch with some money. You heard him, bitch! Give ‘im your money!” “I-I don’t… don’t.. carry cash… Please..” “What’s wrong with you?? You fuckin’ stupid or something? Gimme that wallet now!” “Hey, he doesn’t look too good, man. Think we should jet..” “What about that watch, huh? It looks real nice, you owe me that at least.” “....Nn…” “Did he just fuckin’ growl at me? Did you just fuckin’-” “Let’s go! He’s got nothin’! Just leave him, it’s not worth it.” “Shut up! I’m not leaving without my watch!”

The sun was too high that day. It had yet to set and just barely kissed the horizon line when Chris started for the motel. 

“Mama, mama! Look what I got!” “Where did you just go? You know you’re supposed to stay by my side. What is that? What do you have in your hands?” “I found a wallet! But mama, I think some people are hurt.” “What? Why do you say that, honey?” “There’s some people on the floor outside where I found the wallet. I think it belongs to them.” “You know you’re not supposed to take anything off of the floor. Come, show me where you found it.” “Right over here mama! Look, look! They’re on the ground.. I think they’re hurt. Like Peanut, right? They look like Peanut did.”

A blood curdling scream erupted from alley. The wallet and blood were passed onto new, lawful eyes and the scene, corralled. There were many deaths in Wicked’s Rest, but not many of them had names.

Chris never made it to the motel.

[girl4music]

WAVERLY: “We’re really worried about you. You’re hunting all the time. You’re not really sleeping.”

WYNONNA: “I’m totally sleeping.”

NICOLE: “No, you’re passing out. That’s not the same thing.”

WAVERLY: “You’re isolating yourself.”

WYNONNA: “No. I’m hunting alone. So until a new Chosen One rolls into town,

*directed at Rachel who’s watching from the stairs*

who’s old enough to drink…”

WAVERLY: “Wynonna! You’re… so… you seem so-“

WYNONNA: “Dedicated to keeping my friends and family safe?”

WAVERLY: “Really sad. And lonely.”

WYNONNA: “Well, we don’t all have the luxury of happily ever after.”

WAVERLY: “Doc loves you.”

WYNONNA: “Shut up.”

*moves to grab Peacemaker but Waverly covers her hands over it*

WAVERLY: “And so do we.”

WYNONNA: “Just keep the stupid gun.”

*walks off out of the house and Waverly runs after her*

NICOLE:

*tries to get her attention*

“Hey, babe.”

WAVERLY:

*outside the house*

“Wynonna, stop! Please!”

WYNONNA: “You want me to admit I have a problem?! Okay, well, here’s my problem, it’s a big one. Uh, if I stop killing demons, everyone I love, like you, gets eaten.”

WAVERLY: “Or maybe that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, Wynonna. Because you like it! A little too much.”

WYNONNA: “I don’t hear anyone else complaining about being too not dead because I’ve taken out too many demons.”

WAVERLY: “What about Holt? He was human.”

WYNONNA: “Why is it that when you kill a Clanton, it’s the right thing to do, but when I do it, it’s a problem?”

WAVERLY: “You know, I really thought we’d have a couple more years before your transition from fun drunk to mean alcoholic.”

WYNONNA: “Have fun planning your wedding, you sanctimonious asshole.”

WAVERLY:

*walks back into the house crying and into Nicole’s arms*

NICOLE: “Hey. Once she’s done being defensive, she’s gonna realize you’re right.”

WAVERLY: “Am I? I’m not judging her. I’m just trying not to lose her.”

NICOLE: “Hey.

*hugs her tight and kisses her head*

You want me to stay?”

WAVERLY: “No. You gotta go.”

Finally! We’re dealing with Wynonna’s inner conflict with believing that she needs to shut off the world and kill everything that threatens it. This episode must be her breaking point. This was what I was waiting for after the whole killing Holt situation and Doc left her.

Let’s see them try to make this one into a comedy. Something like this should only be dealt with in drama. I hope they handle this narrative seriously. It looks like they will from the intervention opening but you just never know. There may be some tonal shifts.

This is the narrative I wanted for Buffy Summers. They touched on it but they never went all out with it. They never made it clear how much of a demon she was becoming from having to constantly kill the demons. What that was doing to her mind, body and soul. How much of a price that she was paying to be The Hand.

I wanted a proper narrative undertaking for Buffy like Wynonna seems to be getting in this episode that showed that being a hero doesn’t always require being a killer. Whether it’s of the evil supernatural or not. And in the last season they should have done this since they made it canon that she was made from a demon and therefore her instincts were just the same. But they didn’t do that. They didn’t play morally grey. And it’s part of the reason why I just lost all interest.

See it’s been bubbling under the surface all throughout the show but Wynonna’s inner conflict was that she was afraid that she was a killer - a murderer for killing demons or human bad guys. In this season especially, she’s resigned herself to that objective because she doesn’t have a partner in crime with it anymore. There’s no Clyde to her Bonnie basically. And it’s tearing her apart that she cannot connect with someone that literally sold his soul to a demon because he is not okay with what she’s become from having such a defensive attitude towards the problem.

And everybody’s worried about her because she doesn’t communicate how she’s really feeling. What she’s really struggling with inside that’s eating her up. And something like that is one hell of a narrative to not only explore thoroughly, but also conclude and close.

And I am SO HERE FOR IT! I’m more here for this narrative than WayHaught’s because I already know I’m going to get that anyway. More focus on the lead main character at this point in the show is imperative. And I know Season 4 has been more comedy than drama. But there’s always time to change that around. You know it’s not always an equal amount of either in genre shows. Sometimes it’s just on a spectrum depending on what story it is that they’re telling. Which means the vibe and tone always serves the narrative and characters. Not the other way around.

It’s the reason I cannot watch either pure drama or pure comedy. I have to have that balance when it comes to TV art/enterainment. The grey area. And genre shows - particularly supernatural/fantasy - always have that balance. Even if it’s not equal.

But yeah, Buffy would have certainly been a much more interesting character to me than she was if they had went all the way with the “am I a killer?” subject. Like I said - they touched on it. Quite a few times actually. But they don’t make it into a proper arc where she had a breakdown and her team have to come in to help to save her from destroying herself.

Being a hero is fucking hard. Especially when chosen. When you never wanted to be the world’s protector in the first place but you find it’s who you are anyway. You’re eventually going to face up to the price of it. The loss and the grief. But most of all the evolution. And an evolution includes all the highs and lows. The downfalls, the sacrifices, the depression, the loneliness. All of it. You can’t have a true character development without it all. And the thing is Buffy has all of that. Sometimes more than I bear to watch. But the one thing they skip out of truly exploring is - to me - the most important subject that there is to address.

Which is if you’re a fighter - if you have protect and defend through violence - does it make you a killer?

And if you’re a hero - are you okay with not being one and letting somebody else take the reins - including all the pitfalls and burdens you’ve had to bear and overcome. Can you allow yourself to give up heroism?

All of that needed to be addressed with Buffy in the final season. And the way they choose to do it. To wrap up the sap up - is the most insane, nonsensical, confusing, frustrating extremely lazy way ever by her entire team throwing her out of the fucking house and then letting her back in when they realize they’re wrong and they need her and some other character has to be the one to make them face their mistake.

Exploring the extremely strong and substantial subject I’m talking about here is what would have avoided all that ridiculous mess because the take-away from it would have been that there is a necessity to heroism but it comes at the price of being a killer or at least fearing that you are or will become a killer.

So I hope - I fucking hope - that they will do this with Wynonna. Have her face up to her actions and choices because her humanity will not let her just ignore them. Only a demon that feels absolutely nothing would. And that’s not Wynonna. She is such an emotional person when she lets herself be. When she doesn’t block it out. She’s like Faith. The need to shield vulnerability because she fears that letting love in will destroy her. When love and all that love entails is what she needs.

[scrumptiouscloudterrorist]

Sometimes, everything falls apart around you and you can’t stop it. Life is cruel. It robs everything from you. It even took my ability to cry. It took everything from me. It took all the joy and laughter that I still could have had. It took everyone I loved, and the worst part is that life did it kindly. I can’t even hate the people who left me, because they did nothing wrong. Neither did I. I even tried not to push them away for once, but somehow they’re still gone. There is nothing left but loneliness and sorrow. The kind of sorrow that freezes in your chest and makes it ache. I would prefer a stabbing pain that would make me feel like I was dying. At least then I would truly be able to feel it. Instead, what I get is a dull, constant aching that will never stop, and it’s driving me mad. I feel the loss of so many things, but I think I’m mostly mourning the loss of myself. Somewhere among all the things that life took from me, it took me away as well. 

I might as well be a ghost. No one sees me and no one hears me. I don’t feel, and I can’t reach out. I’m stuck in the middle of two different worlds, and I don’t know which one to choose. This space between two realms is a lonely one. The only person I can cling to is myself. No one else can reach me here. I’ve spent days screaming and crying, hoping that someone could reach through the veil and grab onto me. But no one can hear my desperate pleas. I would give everything just to have someone hold me for a while. If I had to, I would give all my remaining time for just a small moment of comfort in the middle of this endless void of sorrow. 

I see the world as clearly as if I were still a part of it, but I’m not. My touch has no effect on anything. When I brushed my hand gently down your cheek, you didn’t even notice. You didn’t hear me when I spent the night crying by your side, wishing I were not a ghost. You didn’t see me when I smiled with tears in my eyes when you found someone new. I know I’m not really dead, but it feels like it when everything else is so far away. No, I never died. It’s funny how I’m not dead, but somehow I’m not a part of the same world as you. It’s like looking through a wall of glass. I’ve cursed at life for placing me in this prison. I never believed in heaven or hell, but now I am in hell. 

I know I could be saved from this hell. If only something gave me the strength to push through and return to the world of the living. If only I got a small spark of happiness. I promise it would be enough to save me. But how could I be happy when there is nothing left? Everything good is gone now. That’s the reason I’m here. Because I lost everything. I don’t even know if I want to return anymore. Would I just suffer even more if I did? So, would it be better to fade away? I refuse to choose. I’ll let life take me where it pleases. If I am meant to come back to you, I will. But I know that you are no longer mine. If I am meant to be a ghost for the rest of this endless time, then that is what I will become.

[frostyjotuns]

I transcribed up Xavier’s monologue from Immortal X-Men #10 bc I’ve been obsessed for months 

Are you suspicious of me? I hope so.

After all, I have done much to be suspicious of. It is one of my ways of protecting everyone. People should be suspicious of me. Let me explain.

I am an idealist who experience has taught to be practical. It’s hard to hold onto an ideal when I know what they really think about us. About me.

We talk about “Xavier’s Dream.” Note the phrasing. It’s not “Xavier’s sensible and achievable policy.” It is not even “Xavier’s Five Year Plan.”

It’s a dream-- intangible, may as well be nothing. Dreams can be forgotten in the morning so easily. I did not form the X-Men to fulfill the dream. I created them to ensure there was a world where the dream-- any dream-- could come true.

Yes, “sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them.” But… protect it from who?

I am a father to many. In turn, I had many fathers. They were each, in their own way, terrible. Even the monster who killed me had a hand in my upbringing, in a failed, foolish attempt to buy himself immortality. Scott and I share Sinister as a meddling Foster Parent. We never talked about it, which is so like us both.

So many terrible fathers. I wished not to become any of them. I succeeded. I became a terrible father in my own way.

I try to dream a world where terrible fathers are gone. But it is, of course, a dream, and we have already talked of the nature of dreams.

“To me, my X-Men.” See what that implies? They are mine. I called them to me. So I choose who to call.

Between my gifts and Cerebro, I knew who was out there. I could have called anyone. The Morlocks, I left them in the tunnels. I ignored so many others who needed help but who I couldn’t save. Not yet. Instead?

Bobby: an ocean of talent, barely touched. Beast: a mutant gift chained to a genius that exceeded mine. Warren: a mutant gift married to wealth that exceeded my own. Jean: a prodigy beyond imagining.

And Scott… a mutant who had already been carved into what a team so badly needs… Then later, when I expanded the ranks?

A goddess with the honed skills of a thief. A trained circus acrobat. An ex-interpol agent… and, of course, let us not forget the black-ops killer. Even little kitty wasn’t a girl next door-- unless you lived next door to a precocious hacker of ludacris talent.

There were so many mutants out there… but I didn’t pick them. I gathered people who could do a job. To protect a world that hates and fears us. In what way do we primarily do that?

Many have noted that we spend most of our time fighting other mutants, confusing-- in the language of programmers-- feature for bug. This is why we exist.

I had a boy and he nearly destroyed the world with runaway thoughts. Moira’s child was a serial killer who could carve reality with his mind. When Jean Grey lost control, a planet burned. And these are weaknesses of character and fortune, not active planned malice.

I have looked at Sinister across the Quiet Council, and shuddered, thinking what he would choose to do if given complete freedom… and how I wish we hadn’t needed him to make our would-be paradise.

You’re starting to understand now. This is the awful truth.

When a child comes out to bigoted parents, it destroys lives. When Magneto came out as a mutant, he killed a whole town in his grief. Being a mutant shares traits with other persecuted groups, but it is unlike it in one key way.

We are dangerous.

They are right to be frightened. Imagine asking those Erik tore apart in his grief for little Anya whether or not we should be feared. I dare say there were mutant corpses in that town, too. We hurt our own. We hurt everyone. If there isn’t someone to stop that.

Look at the X-Men and understand they are born of fear for our worst potential and were my first line of defense in ensuring we do not kill ourselves. It has worked. The Earth beneath our feet is proof. But there is one key question you should ask…

Why do you think I was so worried about the potential of mutants with grandiose power? I have a mirror. I looked in it.

I have often thought how lucky it is that I was given my talents and Erik was given his. Know this with absolute certainty … If our places were switched and Erik had my gifts when he was at his absolute worst, there would be no humans left alive today.

Cerebro lets me find all mutants. In other words’ words, it lets me find all humans.

If I wanted, I could work through them all, placing a psychic trigger in each. A decade's work, perhaps? Most minds aren't difficult. One day, I’d be done.

And on that day, the entire human race would have woken up, walked over to the nearest sharp object and opened up their throats. Humanity would have bled out one bloody morning. And that's if I saw the world as Erik did then. Imagine if I were simply corrupt.

Emma thinks I manipulate this council, and she's right. But she also knows that if I chose, I could have done so in a far more brutal, direct and immoral way. As could she. The entire world could follow our whims and sometimes I wonder if I'm wrong not to do it.

Every time they act with some foolish, hateful policy, I know that I could have stopped it. I am complicit.

I have a secret. There will never be a nuclear war. If the Doomsday Clock ever hit midnight, all those warmongers' hands would hover over the red button… and find themselves incapable of pressing it. If one tried to bypass that, those who are trained to fire the missile would similarly halt in their tracks. There is a Psychic Block in place. I put it there to save the world from ourselves. Like I placed the x-men.

I did it with a thought. Are you petrified? Good. You see things as I do.

I am afraid of my own capabilities, because if you are not afraid of my capabilities, you are simply not thinking hard enough.

That's the thing to understand: Mutants have been victims, but I am not. I am never a victim. I choose to let them persecute me, because the alternative would be the death of us all. I am a martyr.

so I make people suspicious of me, so they are watching me, in case I turn to even shadowier paths, I hope I have succeeded. I am far from a perfect person… but we should all wake up every morning and be grateful that my power and skill is not in the hands of one who is even slightly worse than I am.

It would be a disaster neither species could survive.

[gildinbainas]

Well,  another  year  has  come  and  gone.  I  can’t  remember  the  exact  year  I  started  tumblr,  but  I’ve  been  around  since  peak  Ma/rvel  and  Ga/me  of  Thro/nes  were  dominating.  And  Supernatu/ral  which  I  still  hate  to  this  day.  Not  a  fan.  Anyway,  there’s  like  four  of  you  that  have  been  following  me  since  my  very  first  anime  blog.  I  love  you  guys  and  appreciate  you  so  much  for  dealing  with  my  dramatic  meltdowns  over  life  and,  at  one  time,  when  this  place  played  a  wild  role  in  my  mental  health.

I’ve  disconnected  from  a  lot  of  good  roleplayers  over  time  while  some  we  just  kinda  lost  touch  /  drifted  apart.  It’s  all  good  either  way.  People  come  and   go,  but  in  the  last  month  or  so,  some  new  folks  have  come  along  between  blogs  that  I’ve  been  thoroughly  enjoying  connecting  with  via  writing.  

Adulting  sucks,  but  we  all  have  to  do  it.  I’m  not  around  as  much  as  I  used  to  be  but  one  thing  is  factual:  I  enjoy  writing  and  it’s  the  thing  that  keeps  me  around.  Long  as  folks  are  still  willing  to  create  stories  with  me,  I  plan  to  stick around,  even  if  activity  continues  to  dwindle.

This  past  year  was  very  challenging  for  me.  I  never  thought  mental  health  issues  would  affect  my  family  so  deeply  on  top  of  many  deaths  of  friends  and  loved  ones.  It  was  a  rough  ‘21  and  ‘22.  Who  knows  what  the  next  year  holds?  Won’t  sit  here  and  say  things  will  be  perfect.  They  never  are,  but  I  hope  I’m  better  equipped  to  deal  with  whatever  comes  my  way.

As  for  you  guys,  remember  that  it’s  okay  to  take  breathers.  If  people  leave  you /  abandon  you  for  having  a  life,  its okay.  Tumblr  should  never  define  who  we  are  as  people.  We  don’t  have  to  impress  anyone  here  nor  do  we  owe  them  a  thing.  Enjoy  your  social  time.  Enjoy  the  people  who  love  and  cherish  you.  Tomorrow’s  not  promised  so  appreciate  people  while  they’re  here.  Keep  reaching  for  your  goals.  It’s  never  too  late  to  write  that  book  or  open  that  bakery.  Keep  making  baby  steps  towards  claiming  who  you  really  are  inside.  If  you  get  overwhelmed,  go  ghost.  Social  media  isn’t  the  be  all,  end  all.

Really  hoping  I  can  connect  with  more  people.  Write  with  them  and  continue  doing  what  we  love.  I’m  leaving  any  old  beefs  in  the  past  and  starting  fresh.  Everyone  gets  a  do-over.  People  can  change.  I  know  I  have.

Best  wishes  to  you  all  from  me  and  my  crew!  Happy  New  Year!

[myastrouniverse]

August/2024🌗♏️Look out for that hole.

🌗 < 🦚 I truly do NOT comprehend these filthy creepy perversions of what it is to be a DIVINE couple. The fact that so many fucktarded misogynists, misinterpreted the alchemical allegories of a psychological and emotional bond; which is a source of harmony and creation, to such a level of depravity; that AGAIN I must STRESS the effects create a quantum physics fucking NIGHTMARE. You fucks are literally creating a living fucking hell SO DARK, it could take the collective consciousness of HUMANITY into a false parallel dimension; which would COLLAPSE into a fucking BLACK HOLE. (Yes, Mascis, some could hypothesize it is actually MEL’S HOLE.)

🌗🔺 ♄︎ People have a responsibility to not only APOLOGIZE for their UNFORGIVABLE BEHAVIOR, but they must MAKE AMENDS. I deserve justice and JUST compensation. My entire life has been DESTROYED, OVER AND OVER, AND OVER AGAIN. Every time, I try to build ANY kind of foundation FOR MYSELF, everyone has to INTERFERE and tear MY LIFE apart. What has been done to me and OTHERS I might add, is a ABOMINATION of MIND, BODY, and SPIRIT. It is so fucking backwards behavior for REALITY, again, you MONSTERS will find YOUR WORLD BEGIN TO COLLAPSE.

🌗▪️🌞 My life shouldn’t have been destroyed just because I am too ugly for an ANIMAL to want to breed with. UNDERSTAND? It’s NOT MY FAULT no one loves me. I am very sorry I am unattractive. That doesn’t give anyone the right to keep me from becoming independent. If not one wants me, then LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. I don’t want to be with an asshole who pity fucks me. I don’t want to be with an asshole, who only wants to astral fuck me, because I am too ugly to touch in reality. I would rather LIVE ALONE, study and write or focus on my own ART. I can’t even fucking do that. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO FUCK ME. There are PLENTY of whores for everyone in a capitalist system run by misogynists and pedophiles. I have standards and when Mascis is the best out of the bunch, you know the 🤡💩is knee deep. Oh I am a pig to you? Well then STOP POISONING ME or SITTING ON YOUR FAT ASS watching 🤡💩s POISON ME. It’s not difficult for me get thin, if I am not constantly bloated from FIGHTING INFECTION. PEOPLE HAVE BEEN POISONING ME NONE STOP FOR AT LEAST TWO DECADES🖕

♂️< ♇︎ I AM in no mood to be harassed or harmed by ZIONIST AIPAC WHORES. YOUR narcissistic psychotic behaviors, are obvious and I want every fucking one of you cunts in jail. I should be able to sue EVERYONE, for ALL their ASSETS, over these CRIMES.

🌗 < ☊ Was someone going to try to settle out of court, or kidnap me and murder me before my court date?

🌗 ☌ 🎸 Biden keeps demon possessing my Dad. I know this because my Dad suddenly gets violent and tries to physically assault me. I simply get out of the way. Violent people are losers. If you have to physically beat down a person to ‘win’ YOU have already LOST.

🌗 Λ 🚑 I only hope those whom are too corrupt to change their behaviors in a positive manner, burn in hell, like the literal demons they are.

🌗▪️🦺 I know how to work alone. It used to be lonely, but I’ve grown accustomed to being alone.

Nirvana - All Apologies

I HATE ALL YOUR FUCKING NAZI SCUM CUNTS AND DO NOT EVER PARADE YOUR DUMPSTER WHORES THE FUCK IN MY FACE.

GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE.

COMPENSATE ME FOR EXTREME TORTURE, WHICH SHOULD BE EVERYTHING YOUR ‘FAMILY’ FUCKING HAS, YOU APE SHIT.

[sukirichi]

sweet lies [03.final]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. toxic! megumi, SEXY TOXIC MEGUMI 🥵, toxic college settings, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, explicit smut, car sex, biting, scratching, sukuna is a sex god, MEGUMI WITH A LIP RING, slight angst

note. FINALLY FINISHED THIS SERIES AAAAHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS SERIES TYSM FOR EVERYTHING! lotsa lub lub for each and everyone of you! anyways let me just say...sweet lies sukuna can politely rail me.

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

It’s…a different story when you have to move back and forth between your newly made acquaintance slash fuck buddy, Sukuna, to your actual fuck buddy and crush, Megumi.

Sukuna’s polite enough to not meddle into your business as he’s promised, which you’re extremely thankful for, but you should’ve known the bubble of happiness would pop the moment you stepped out of your apartment. You’ve left your phone unattended and on silent, earbuds always placed inside to ignore Megumi’s calls.

It’s funny, actually, that he’s never replied much to you before other than occasional dick pic and ‘you awake baby?’ but ever since you’ve been…pre-occupied, suddenly you’re on top of his contacts.

You grumble at the vibration of your phone, Megumi’s name flashing on the screen. Back then, you would’ve soared and jumped to pick up the call, voice sultry and toes pointed at the ceiling as you try to keep in your giggles. Now, you’re dreading it, glaring at his annoyingly handsome contact icon that used to make your heart skip a beat. You’re studying in the library and have been doing a terrific job at avoiding him so far, and today won’t be any different.

With a sigh, you completely flip your phone upside down and turn back to your book. You’re on the second line of the paragraph when you feel large, warm hands caress the back of your neck, tilting you upwards to meet his curious – and certainly annoyed – blue eyes.

“Babe,” Megumi drawls out, minty breath fanning your cheeks.

He looks absolutely stunning today, plain and casual yet so handsome in just a black hoodie and sweatpants, his dark hair slicked back to reveal his forehead. For a guy who sure pounded into your skill he had no interest in you that went beyond sexual, he sure did know you well enough, the slight tugging of his lips a sign he could easily read through you. It makes you huff away from him, scooting – trying is the keyword – away from his touch. Megumi’s persistence leads him into you placing you right above his lap and cages you between his arms, chin on your shoulder and his breath floating over your ear.

You can’t help but squirm in embarrassment. Half of the students in the campus library have turned to look at you, and Megumi merely smiles at the attention, audacious enough to kiss the shell of your ear.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! In reality, you really do want to fuck him.

“Why have you been ghosting me?”

“I wasn’t ghosting you, Megumi, it’s called being busy. You ever tried doing homework?”

“You’re so mean to me today,” he pouts, but that pout soon brightens into a smile when you scowl at him. Megumi, albeit never really paying attention to you, your facial expressions have registered as second nature to him now. It doesn’t take much before you soften under his hold, still as mushy as ever, and the nasty fucker basks in it proudly. “There’s a party tonight at Okkotsu’s house, said his parents were away in Greece or some rich family shit. Wanna come and get wasted with me?”

“I don’t know, Megs, I have an essay to finish…”

“Come on, it’s just one night. It won’t hurt,” he shrugs and sways you to side to side, causing your heart to sway side to side in giddiness. It’s this – moments like this – that really fools you into believing Megumi likes you. And that sweet lie only turns sweeter from his words that drip like honey, “Plus, I’ve missed you. Can’t think straight when we’ve been apart for too long, baby.”

You pretend to think about it.

That slight falter in a split second brings about a waver in Megumi’s confident you didn’t think would be possible. Not that you can blame him; you never did have to think about it whenever he invites you to fuck around with him. In fact, you say yes a lot faster than he can ask you something, but something’s been changing you lately – or rather someone.

In the end though, you’ll circle up right where you belong.

Relishing in the rarity of having Megumi coddle you with kisses and affection, his perfume still as boyish and vanilla that deluded you into his faux aura of a sweet boy, you melt one more time. Hopefully, it would transition into a one last time before Megumi’s completely wrapped you around his finger.

“Fine. I’m leaving if it’s too noisy though.”

“Awesome,” Megumi chirps, pulling you in for a long, solid kiss. It takes you back by surprise that you end up wide-eyed above him, stiff hands on his shoulders as you feel him smile through the kiss. Then, just as you’re about to kiss him back with the same passion, Megumi separates himself from you and squeezes your ass. “Promise we’ll have fun, babe. I’ll even bring extra condoms.”

You’re not surprised he left afterwards.

But are you hurt? Most definitely so.

Fuck Fushiguro Megumi.

You were going to leave him, block him, ignore him, avoid him, and carve him out of your heart for good. It’s what you deserve – to be freed from such a toxic guy like him. His pretty face shouldn’t be an excuse for you stick around any longer. That party…well, it would be your last one, you’re never going back!

Still, it’s not that easy to let go. Years of following him around with puppy eyes and spreading your legs open for him like it’s the most natural thing to do isn’t just going to disappear in a day.

It’s for closure, you lie to yourself. That’s all it is – you just need closure. So for one last time, you’ll fuck around with Megumi, then you’d leave him. For good this time.

And yet – your mind still races back to him. His throaty, boyish laughter and the stupid way his eyes crinkle into half moons, his large hands slapping his knees when you tell him a really silly joke. Okay, he didn’t really laugh that much because he’s already passed out in the times you crack jokes after sex, but the few times he did, though? It’s magical, beautiful, phenomenal.

He’s so awful yet so irresistibly charming it’s a huge tug of war between your rational mind and foolish heart.

You couldn’t focus anymore in the library. If you wanted to pass your exams, you need to be somewhere that won’t remind you of him, in a place where a stronger aroma would conceal his lingering scent. The best option was to hang around in a local café closer to your apartment than on campus, and you’ve completely ditched your usual get up to just opting for lookinglike a complete shut in – bags under eyes, heart torn over a stupid boy, the usual Iced Vanilla Latte with the condensation sticking to the wooden table and soft lofi music playing in the background – it’s just the perfect atmosphere for you to wallow in self-pity.

And wallow in self-pity you did, your cheeks squished against the pale furniture while you sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. At the back of your head, Megumi is still giving you one of those slow, long kisses reserved for only when he’s half-sleepy, your heart doing insane back flips as you reminisced whatever moments you once had.

You’re so lost in your own train of thought you fail to hear the scraping of a chair, followed by a heavy body plopping across you. “Well, this is kind of gloomy…”

At the sound of that awfully familiar, deep voice, you sit up straight in a frenzy. Sukuna smirks at your reaction as he loudly sips from his matcha latte – which you would’ve never thought he likes – and sits back at his chair, legs crossed against one another. Unlike Megumi, he doesn’t seem to pose any other malicious intent, so you bury your head in your arms, wishing for the ground to just open up and eat you already.

“I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything except Red Bull and coffee,” you try to explain, “I look horrible.”

“Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous all the time.”

From under your arms, you scowl at nowhere in particular, ignoring the heat rushing from the back of your neck. Sukuna didn’t seem to be flirting with you, and one peek at him swirling his straw inside his cup proves your theories.

However, the offhanded compliment falls so naturally from his lips it takes you a back, and not in a good way. Defensively, you cross your arms against your chest. You knock your toes against Sukuna’s knees under the knees to get his attention, the taller man peering at you under his lashes, tongue innocently swirling around his straw.

I fucking hate men! – is what you want to say, but something different comes out. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you asleep in the morning because of work?”

“It’s my day off,” he sets his cup down, placing his chin on both of his palms. Sukuna’s gaze travels from your face down to the abandoned papers before you, a scowl immediately making its way to his face.  “Got too bored to cook so I came here for a light snack. As for you…ew, are you doing essays? I hated that shit in college.”

“Yeah, I hate it too,” you numbly agree, “Can barely function right now.”

Sukuna’s eyes lit up the moment you nearly fall on the table again, his palm quick to caress your cheek. If he can feel the intense heat of your skin from the sudden gesture, he makes no comment about it. Instead, Sukuna hauls you from your seat, nodding to your bag and papers before he rushes you out the door.

When Sukuna said he could make you feel better, the last thing you thought of was going to the nearby park. Now, you find yourself sitting comfortably with him, aggressively licking on the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten you from an ice cream man that passed by. It’s a great way to kill the time – or just to enjoy the day despite the rough start – because the sunlight feels warm on your skin, the trees above you shading you from extra shade.

Next to you, Sukuna is surveying his ice cream with the least interest, his brows furrowed as he notes, “Your crush is toxic. I suggest you cut ties with him and get it all over with.”

In part of making you feel better, Sukuna’s subtly given you clues you could tell him whatever’s going on in your mind. It makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been that obvious that even Sukuna could read you, but you’re thankful that he understood, because you really did want to rant about it. Your friends are just a one call away, but they’re not any better. They’ll keep claiming ‘Megumi just needs time’ because they know it’s what you want to hear to make yourself feel better. Though, every once in a while, you needed to talk to someone who could actually slap the harsh reality at your face, and who else would be more suitable than a mature adult like Sukuna?

Looking at him now, the contrast between your roommate and your crush is immense. Where Megumi is all bark and no bite, all needy and never giving, Sukuna’s silent and compliant, an extremely good listener with the patience of a monk.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yeah it is. Just block his number and avoid him. He’ll get the answer soon enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you groan in defeat. Sukuna faces you with worry written all over his face, seemingly tender in comparison to the tattoos marking his skin. Sometimes, it’s so easy to forget he’s actually a lot more decent than Fushiguro fucking Megumi, but you end up slipping anyway, turning to the sky just as tears prick at your eyes. “I…I love him, okay? I’ve always been in love with him even though I know I’m just someone who warms his bed. I know that much and yet…I can’t seem to let him go.”

Sukuna is silent for a full minute. You thought he’ll offer you some adult wisdom only people like him would now, but Sukuna simply snorts, happily licking at his ice cream as if you didn’t just break down in front of him. “Shit’s tough then.”

“You’re great at comforting, you know that?”

“Oh, I wasn’t comforting you,” he smiles and pats your knee, “Come on, let’s go home. I know just how to take your mind off things.”

With the way he’s caressing your thigh and his voice turned an octave lower, you chastise yourself for feeling aroused when you wanted to cry just seconds ago. But his fingers are inching closer and closer to your inner thigh, and he’s warm and strong – so fucking nice too that perhaps fucking him wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

But like always, Sukuna never fails to surprise you.

You expected he’d take you right to his room the moment you’ve crossed the door, but Sukuna dashes for the TV before carrying a huge blanket and heaps of pillow. You watch there, stunned. He makes quick work of fluffing the pillows before grabbing your wrist and pulling you above him the same way Megumi did a while ago.

The only difference? Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. You’re not intoxicated by his scent. You’re not trying to squirm away from him nor do you feel like a silly little schoolgirl who’s fallen in love at first sight.

Where Megumi is deceivingly charming, Sukuna is more like a strong pillar to lean on, which you do exactly. Your head rests on his shoulder, both of your legs tangled under the blankets he’s covered you with. He’s blinking as Tangled plays on the TV, the faint sensation of his fingers playing with yours comforting and way too comfortable. It should feel weird to hang out with a guy like this without him wanting to shove his dick deep inside you minutes later (your movie marathons with Megumi never really finish as previously planned) but with Sukuna?

It feels natural. It feels great. It feels like home.

You’re gaping at him long before you realize it, one of your hands absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sukuna hums along to I Have A Dream with a small smile on his face, one that forms into a playful glare as he catches you staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Disney is a classic.”

You fight back a smile. “Wasn’t complaining,” burying yourself deeper into his warm embrace, you’re lulled into an early slumber with Sukuna’s humming combined with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His plan worked efficiently – for a moment, you forget your heart was aching to begin with.

After screaming internally for a good hour and a half, you arrive at the party anyway. The stench of weed, alcohol, and sex hanging thickly in the air is more than familiar to you by now. You ignore the catcalls you receive as you make your way to Megumi and fuck, he just had to look even sexier tonight.

He’s ditched his e-boy getup with a plain white shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a Converse, and that black leather jacket he always refused to wear. Megumi really woke up and chose violence today, the minimalistic silver chain around his neck only adding to his appeal. You should’ve run away then – he literally screams trouble – but you’ve never been one to shy from that. Truth be told, you’re only pulled in harder, swaying your hips side to side as you sashay to where he’s laughing along with his friends.

Clearing your throat to get his attention, Megumi finally lays his eyes on you.

You’re glad you took the extra time to dress in your best outfit today – a lace orange mini dress that accentuates your cleavage just enough for a tease, paired with black combat boots and a white purse slung from your shoulder. Pride pumps through your veins when Megumi steps away from his friends, his hands encircling around your waist almost possessively. He smirks through your hair, those addicting lips trailing lower and lower down to your neck until, “You smell like another man.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He doesn’t seem to be mad, perhaps a little jealous judging by how he’s grinding his crotch to your abdomen and tugs you closer, but this is Megumi in the question. He never gets jealous, so you flatten your palms onto his chest, eyes daring and red lips upturned into a smirk as you ask, “Why do you care?”

Megumi raises a brow – which really shouldn’t have been such a sexy thing – at your spunk. Normally, you’re too sweet and submissive to him, never would’ve even dared to dress something as revealing like this, but maybe you’re tired of being sweet.

Maybe this time, you wanted to match Megumi’s spice, fight fire with fire.

Megumi chuckles above your lips and swipes a thumb over your lower lip, humming when the coating doesn’t stain his fingers. He’s mentioned before he hates washing the lipstick off his dick, and the fact you remember that has him groaning at your ear. Unsurprisingly, Megumi’s already hard. He nibbles at the shell of your ear, possessive hands brushing over your collarbone as a silent promise of what he’ll be doing to you tonight.

“Like I said, this pussy is mine.”

You should say no. It’s evident in the darkness of his eyes he’s daring you to say no, but it’s too much. The cramped space that diminishes space until it becomes a myth, his hands rubbing circles at your hip, the glint of his new lip ring under the disco lights and anything, everything about Fushiguro Megumi just makes you feel so weak you can’t say no.

Satisfied with your silence, Megumi sweeps you upstairs. There’s already a round of Truth or Dare going on with a bunch of drunk and half-high college students, the lights red and the aroma of weed thick in the air.

It bothers you so you stick close to Megumi, nose stuck at the collar of his leather jacket. He’s not satisfied with just you sitting next to him; Megumi is territorial. He makes sure you’re comfy and using his lap like a throne, clasping both your hands in your lap while he boredly stares at his friends. Okkotsu Yuta, the host who used to be super shy in his freshman year but became one of the most sought after guys in his junior year, sits across from you in the circle. He’s already giggling in his drunken state while Nobara Kugisaki makes the mistake of choosing dare, flinging her bra straight at a very enthusiastic Yuuji.

They spin the bottle and it lands straight at you. Megumi hums in anticipation at the crook of your neck, his little sounds mixed with his heated touches sending fire straight down your core. It’s inebriating to have him this close, but you need to keep a straight head if you want to survive.

Fighting the arousal pooling at your stomach, you offer a flat smile. “Truth.” As expected, the crowd isn’t pleased. They holler, “Booooo,” with their hands cupped around their mouths, the others snickering at you, though you’re quite satisfied with the safety of your choice. You could be crazy with Megumi, but being crazy around others isn’t something you’re comfortable with.

Thankfully, Yuta shushes the crowd dramatically with a threat he’ll kick them out with his infamous Katana that’s been passed down by an ancestor. Once everyone’s calmed down, Yuta smirks at you, eyes wiggling as he asks, “Who’s the best dick you ever had?”

You don’t think twice about it. Someone else’s face pops up for a split second, but it’s so natural, so obvious that you would say – “Megumi.”

“Speak louder, baby, they won’t hear.”

“It’s you,” you suddenly grow shy at the attention, whatnot with Megumi shamelessly trailing hot kisses down your neck now for everyone to see. He’s shameless as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, all the while keeping eye contact with the other guys whose eyes are zeroed in on the swell of your breasts that are an inch away from popping out from your dress. It’s the best time to submit, the perfect time to give him what he wants, and his expert hands prompt his name out of you with a single suck at your neck.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Damn, Megumi, you’ve trained your bitch well.”

“’Course I did. My dick does all the disciplining,” Megumi cups your jaw to tilt your face at him, cooing at you as you flush embarrassed from everyone’s snickering. “Aw, don’t pout baby, it’s all just harmless jokes. You know I treat you like a goddess when we’re alone.”

“Yo, man, get a fucking room!”

Megumi ignores Yuuji’s comments and makes an offhanded comment the latter is just jealous because he hasn’t had his dick wet in days, ensuing a close dog fight between the guys. Maki has to step in and kick the strawberry haired boy back to his seat, scolding her cousin to back down. Meanwhile, you cling to Megumi like a scaredy-cat, head empty with nothing but the way he’s never hold you this close and proudly before.

Just one last time.

“Megs, your turn.”

“Dare.”

Yuuji slaps his palm over Yuta who usually gives the dares. The older guy rolls his eyes but lets it slide, knowing that Yuuji could also let loose with his dares. Megumi isn’t afraid though, he stays docile around you, leaving little nibbles at your ear and even squeezing your boobs at one point. You know he’ll never back down from Yuuji’s dares, even as his eyes darken with mischief. Now, Yuuji is a nice guy, but something doesn’t quite feel right with the way he’s staring Megumi down.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

Megumi freezes.

Time must’ve stopped because everyone is chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS!” but he makes no move. You stay there, staring up at him wide eyed with your arms looped around his neck. Your heart is beating a mile a minute in your chest the moment Megumi’s eyes gaze down to your lips, smirking as he leans closer, leans down lower, and you close your eyes, waiting for the salacious kiss that would sear at the back of your mind. But it never comes and a gust of wind flies by through you, and before you know it, Megumi’s leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping the cheek of this girl named Alicia who you’ve heard about from your friends before that she’s Megumi’s current pick.

Alicia was never supposed to kiss him back. Your friends told you, they promised you she wasn’t the type of person to fall for the likes of Megumi, and yet she’s smiling through the kiss. You’re still in Megumi’s lap but your vision is of the audience, their jaws dropped and Yuuji slapping Yuta’s thighs. “Oh, shit! That’s gotta hurt!”

You don’t think twice.

You push yourself off Megumi and run out the room, the sounds of their chaotic laughter mocking you to no end. You know – you fucking know – you’d never quite belong in Megumi’s circle. Everyone knows you’re just another one of his bed warmers, and they also know how much you’re hopelessly in love with him, begging, hoping that one day he might return your affections.

It makes perfect sense with each step you take further from the room. This has to be staged, intentional, because there’s no way Yuuji would’ve said that if he didn’t already have an idea maybe Alicia reciprocated Megumi’s feelings.

But what about your feelings?

Does no one really care? Were you really reduced to just another body count?

Your chest squeezed uncomfortably as you pushed past the crowd, ignoring everyone’s protests from how rough you were. You don’t stop until you’ve locked yourself inside a restroom, tears freely falling down your face. With trembling hands, you fall back to the floor, dialing the only person you could trust right now.

He picks up not three rings later, voice still gruff and laced with sleep. “Hello?”

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper, pathetically wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m – can you please pick me up?”

From the other line, you can hear Sukuna shuffling for something in the background. Keys dangle and he locks the door, the sounds of his rushed footsteps so relieving to your senses. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No, I just…I want to go home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”

You text him the address and end the call. From the outside, the bass is thumping so hard it makes your head pound. You’re already feeling dizzy from crying so much, hands clutched around your chest because it hurts so much.

Stupid Megumi, fucking stupid Megumi – but aren’t you the stupider one? You’re the one who chose to keep being with him despite the warning signs. You’ve heard what everyone said about him, his reputation as a fuckboy isn’t exactly a secret, but you hoped, you sincerely hoped you could at least be good enough. But you’re not not good enough – Megumi just simply doesn’t deserve you. You deserve better and he needs to go to hell, so then why does it hurt so much the more you picture how he’s humiliated you like that?

Your dress is beyond soaked from how much you’ve cried. At this point, you just feel achingly numb. The pounding in your head is matched by the soft knocks rapping against the door, and thinking it’s Megumi or one of his lackeys, you wrap your arms around your knees.

“GO AWAY!”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, let’s get you home,” It’s Sukuna. Scrambling for the door, you push it open and jump into his arms without a second thought. Sukuna effortlestly catches you, and the dam you thought had dried up in you breaks again. He stiffens as you cry on his shoulder, fists balled around his shirt in a vice-like grip. “Who the fuck made you cry? Is it him again?” he growls, “I seriously want to knock the living daylights out of him.”

“Don’t start a ruckus, Sukuna.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he visibly softens at your state. Sukuna rubs your back soothingly and lets you cry like that, shielding your vulnerable state with his arm. He moves you to hide your face in his chest and kisses the crown of your head, so gentle and unbelievably tender. “I don’t pick on someone weaker than me. That’s bullying.”

You don’t utter another word as he leads you out of the house. He mutters under his breath on how kids are so wild these days and he really can’t imagine he was once like that. Sukuna’s car is parked on the curb, and you rush for it, eager to go home until he stops you. He wraps his jacket around your shoulders to offer you some modesty and you offer him a weak smile, allowing him to embrace you from the sides to guide you.

“Hey!” Megumi calls out, “Hey, what are you doing with her? Let her go,” his footsteps echo behind you just as you clench your eyes shit, “I said let her go!”

“Don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid,” Sukuna mutters to himself like a mantra.

“Yo, steroid guy, you deaf or what? I said let my girl go—” Megumi falls on his ass. He stares up at whoever punched him, eyes wide at Sukuna’s arm raised, but his eyes are on you. “Ow! You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!”

“Shit,” Sukuna laughs beside you as you wince at the soreness of your knuckle. “That was hot.” Somehow, you find the ability to smile. You’ve always wanted to top Megumi, but seeing him below you like this, weak and clutching his broken nose while whining about it like a little bitch, it feels a lot more satisfying.

You want to scream at him, to release all the profanities that have manifested your anger throughout the years. But Megumi crawls back with something unreadable in his eyes, the edges of his lips tinted red with a smack of lipstick, probably from Alicia.

The sight has you scoffing. Maybe you don’t have anything to worry about after all – Megumi hates lipstick stains with a passion. If he ever gets with her, they won’t last long enough.

That fact is enough for you to flip your hair over your shoulder, glaring at Megumi one last time before dragging Sukuna down by the collar. His laughter ceases the moment your lips collide, your hands teasing around his neck to brush at his undercut. Sukuna moans through the kiss, the way he’s explicitly grabbing the flesh of your ass a sign he’s aware what kind of game you’re playing. You make a mental note to apologize for this later, but for now, you’ll shamelessly savor his tongue and the minty aftertaste, grabbing at his large frame that picks you up with no ease.

You leave Megumi gaping at the lawn after that, your finger middle raised right before Sukuna speeds off.

Fuck, that has never felt so good. This feeling…it bursts through you. There’s this certain satisfaction in finally having the power at your fingertips this time around, and you you’re your wicked smile through your hair, too absorbed in your own feelings that you don’t register Sukuna’s worried tone at first.

“So…do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He doesn’t pry afterwards, just shoots you a curious look. Just moments ago, you were crying and feeling like you’re on the verge of breaking down, but this adrenaline rushing through absolutely cannot fuck around anymore. The image of Megumi realizing he’s lost you is so exhilarating, and you twist your torso to face your roommate, grinning at his handsome features. He looks so delicious like this, black button up shirt left open at the top, his veiny, muscular arms driving one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently caressing your thigh. You suck in a deep breath, licking your lips as you purr, “Hey, Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Pull over.”

“Wait, why? We’re so close at home.”

“Pull over, I’m done,” you insist with a glare, although the animosity isn’t directed at him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on the road before he spares you a glance, smirking at how you’re already unclasping your bra from your seat.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re going to use me as a stress reliever.”

At his words, your arms still behind you. You glance up at him with wide, worried eyes that immediately reach out for his hands in assurance. “N-No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Usually, sex is a lot crazier when the other is angry. Use me as you will – I don’t really care,” he licks his lips and suddenly slams on the brakes under an empty parking lot, already flipping something in the engine. You’re taken aback as Sukuna discards his shirt in a second, his large arms carrying your frame to the backseat with him. Sukuna spreads your legs as he helps you get rid of your dress but it’s too tight that you just give up, leaving the material bunched under your boobs instead. Sukuna’s eyes darken at the lack of material under your dress, his fierce gaze shooting up to yours as he massages your inner thighs, his breath labored.

“What position do you want?”

“Fu-fuck, I don’t know, just fuck me,” you whine, spreading your legs farther to make space for him. He’s a tall guy with long limbs that he shrinks even with his fancy car, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Sukuna seems a lot more focused in fucking you in that moment because he’s unhooking his belt, diving down for one more kiss that is a lot heated and rushed than the previous one for show.

“I want to get rid of his face from my mind, I fucking hate him so much,” you can’t help but bite down on Sukuna’s lip, hard enough that it draws blood. Sukuna groans into your mouth, the sound so utterly deep and sexy you drip down on his seats even more.

“You’ll still go back to him after this?”

“No…it would be stupid if I did,” you roll your eyes.

“Good girl,” Sukuna praises as his lips leave a wet trail from your jaw down to the valley of your breasts. His smile is quickly replaced with a sinister grin, one of his hands cupping your breasts at the same time his teeth dart out to playfully nip at your breasts. He really shouldn’t look so enticing under you like this, and you’re so caught by his devilishness you fail to realize he’s already rummaging through your purse. “But I think lover boy still doesn’t get the message. We’re gonna have to punch it through his dumb skull.”

He hands you your phone, Megumi’s contact right before you.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?”

“Call him,” Sukuna moves up to fish a condom out of his wallet and slides it to his already throbbing cock, chuckling at the way your eyes widen at his girth as if you hadn’t taken him before. “Call him and let him hear how I fuck you better, sweetheart. Boys like him won’t get the message unless you tell them directly.”

His hands clutch the backseat until his knuckles turn white, aligning himself with your entrance. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily and you moan loudly at the intrusion, pretty little gasps a sign of your pleasure. Helplessly, you grip at his bicep while your legs shake from how tense you are, the tantalizing movement of his hips pulling breathless moans from you. “And what better way than to take what’s his, right? What did he call this? His pretty pussy?” Sukuna scoffs, “Fuck that, stupid little boys can’t even fuck you right, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Ngh, Sukuna, that f-feels good, right there!”

“Right here?” he teases with a stroke of his cock that brushes against your tight walls. Sukuna’s face contort into pleasure when your tight pussy sucks him in, falling forward just to rasp in your ear. “Call him. Then, I’ll fuck you however you want me to.”

You don’t know how you’re able to swipe on Megumi, but he picks up in the speed of light like never before. Sukuna mouths loudspeaker and you follow his commands, Megumi’s voice booming through the sex-filled air of the car. “Where the fuck did you go? The party wasn’t over yet and you’re hanging out with some beefy, tattoed guy? It’s your roommate, isn’t it?” Megumi curses at someone before continuing, the aggravation evident in his tone. “He’s such a fucking creep, I swear if he lays his hands on you again I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Sukuna challenges, “Oh and mind you, she’s the one who asked me to fuck her. As her concerned roommate and the more mature adult, I believe it’s my duty to listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

“Sukuna!” You whine and slap his arm, but you’re smiling, the pleasure and satisfaction of slapping Megumi this harshly making you feel greater than ever.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Megumi sounds like he’s losing his shit, and you sincerely hope he does. “Gosh, Y/N, how low can you be? I thought you were my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Since when?” you attempt to scream, but Sukuna’s gripped your thighs and pulls your lower body closer to his cock in time to meet his thrusts. Your body slides off the seat and you’re left screaming Sukuna’s name, the latter wearing a shit-eating grin at the way you’re creaming around him. Somehow, your attention reverts back to Megumi’s whining. “You’re a fucking dick, Megumi, I honestly hope you choke on your small dick!” you shout and end the call, slapping your hand on your face as you throw your phone away. “I hated saying that.”

“Because you still like him or…?”

“No, because he was actually a good fuck and his dick is huge,” you say through pants. Sukuna must’ve hated how you’re talking about Megumi’s dick when he’s literally rearranging your insides, and Sukuna grabs your leg, manhandling you into the position he likes. You’re immediately on your knees with your back flat to his chest, your arms locked between your bodies as Sukuna takes you from behind. Your head falls back to his shoulders where Sukuna leaves messy open-mouthed kisses to your sweaty skin. “I fucking hate him. He’s such an asshole.”

“Hmm, well don’t spend too much energy thinking about him anymore,” Sukuna snarls at your skin, releasing your hands just to rub at your swollen clit. “Just let loose and let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember meeting him.”

The honest side of you wants to moan, the familiar tightening of your abdomen appearing already. He’s hitting all your sensitive spots that you can barely think, only feel, but you also feel so powerful and enraged that you cup Sukuna’s cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. You hit his thrusts by pushing back against his cock that causes him to slide in deeper, the large man groaning deep within his chest.

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, hundred percent confident, baby.”

“Let’s see what you got then,” you teased him. Pretending you’re not seconds away from coming is an even bigger challenge than leaving Megumi, but for the sake of riling up Sukuna, you would do it.

“You’re challenging me?”

“If I don’t cum at least twice, then that’s going to be a damn shame.”

“Twice? That’s not even the minimum,” he shakes his head tauntingly at you, increasing his pace until the sounds of his balls smacking your ass and both your groans are filling the dead silent night. It’s so lewd and dirty that your tongue lols out from the pleasure, eyes shut tight because you’re close, so fucking close! “You’re going to lose your fucking mind,” Sukuna said as a final warning.

You didn’t think too much of it until he pulls out of you seconds before you came. The crestfallen look written all over your face makes him laugh, but Sukuna only turns your body and goes down on his knees, hitching your legs over his shoulders. Your chest falls up and down as he dives down to your sopping, abused cunt, hands threading through his hair before he rudely flicks it away. “No. Hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me,” he hissed, but his roughness is softened only by a little bit when you whimper so sweetly for him. “Don’t pout, sweetheart, you’ll get your chance when we get home. For now, since you’d so rudely woke me up and left me without inviting me for dinner, I’m starving.”

Sukuna dips between your thighs, tongue poking out to take the first taste of your juices. Your reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; head thrown back, nails dug into the seats, legs quivering and falling open wider to welcome the warm, wet muscle that licks flat from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuuckk, Sukuna, slow down, ngh—”

“He ever ate you out this way?”

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can you take it, sweetheart? Should I stop?” You know he’s teasing you, the sniggers muffled from your pussy lips are still heard but you can’t fight back, not when your legs turn to jelly at his ministrations.

“Keep going, fuck, please, I will slap you if you don’t make me cum tonight,” you threaten, and Sukuna smartly responds by sucking your clit into his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, careful enough not to hurt you while plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling it into a come-hither motion that stretches you pleasurably. “Too, oh, shit!”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he chuckles, and the vibrations that come afterwards shatter your entire world. “And this is just my tongue. Feels too good?”

“Yes, yes, too good!” you cry out, “Sukuna, em coming!”

Your orgasm has no build-up whatsoever. You lay there panting with a silent scream as your nails scratch against his seats, toes curled as it comes down into you in one, hard slap. Sukuna hums as he licks up the arousal trailing down your pussy to not make even more of a mess. “Already? I haven’t even started yet,” he sighs sarcastically, “Don’t think I’m done with you. I did say you’d lose your mind, right?”

Sukuna has now joined you on the seats, flipping you to the side where he hooks one leg under his arm, your other leg extended to your side that remains flushed at the seats, his thighs squishing yours. It’s utterly challenging to move in this position and you’re completely at his mercy, the sight of his tall, dominating figure above you forcing you back into a submissive space. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before his cock is pushing past your pussy once more, bottoming out in one, swift thrust.

“’Kuna, too sensitive, mhhm—”

“You’ll take it,” he breathes out while peppering kisses at your ankle, “Come on, you’re a good girl, yeah? Give me one more.”

“Su-kuna, it’s too much!”

“Just one more.” Sukuna elicits moans from you the harder he thrusts, leaning forward until you’re crying out from the stretch of all the muscles in your body. He’s being nice today by letting you cum more than twice in the exchange of holding back his, because he’s absolutely throbbing inside you. He picks up a rougher pace from where he left off, saying your name through gritted teeth as you tighten around him. You’re squealing and whimpering from behind your fists, overly sensitive still from your previous orgasm.

His hips roll in such a mind-numbing manner before Sukuna rams into you utterly deep, your bodies flushed so close you can feel the heat pulsing from his skin. Sukuna tenses above you before he brings you to your orgasm, with him following not long afterwards.

Sukuna pulls out with a groan and ties his condom in a knot, discarding it above his clothes. Upon hearing your soft sighs, he immediately rushes your side and pats your cheek to wake you up. “Hey, look at me,” he commands, though his voice is gentle and soft. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out through fluttering lashes, “Yeah, I’m just tired,” extending your arms to him, you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him close. “Come here. Want cuddles.”

Sukuna gives in to your request for a few minutes and stays wrapped up with you. It’s perfect to be in this state, to be held so close and not just touched, the intimacy of it all bringing about unfamiliar warmth that only ever makes itself present when he’s here. “As much as I want to stay like this, we’re sweaty and sticky,” Sukuna murmurs through your hair, his hands roaming all over your skin. There’s no other sexual meaning behind it even as his rough palms graze past your mound. His touches are more like him exploring your body out of curiosity, out of the desire to just have you this close. You’re unsure what to feel about it and your mind is uncannily clear after an orgasm, but Sukuna’s already sitting up with you above him before you could ponder about it any longer. “Let me take you home first, then we’ll cuddle. What do you think?”

“Oh fuck,” you cut him off upon seeing the flashing of your screen. “It’s Megumi. Fifteen missed calls.”

“Lover boy is crazy,” Sukuna snickered behind you.

“Good thing I’m crazier,” you shut your phone off and throw it to the passenger’s seat, beaming up at Sukuna and giving him the puppy eyes from behind your shoulder. “Can we get milkshakes on the way?”

“I think you got enough milk.”

“Sukuna!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. You pout until you feel something hard and wet poking your bottoms, and Sukuna smirks, gesturing to his erection that you haven’t noticed. “You do know that I’m still hard, right? I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”

“You could’ve just let me suck you off.”

“Nah,” he refuses, “I want to feel you come around me,” Sukuna cockily winks at you, and your mouth falls open, gasping in disbelief at how vulgar he could be. He steals a quick kiss then as he tugs his pants up, the sight of him rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows thoroughly…compelling that you’re left salivating at the ripples of his muscles. “I’ll just wait ‘til we get home. Right now, I need to treat someone like a princess and get her some food.”

“You should stop saying that,” you blurt out defensively, “Sweet lies won’t get you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t lying about anything. I meant every word I said.”

The tension thickens in an instant. Sukuna looks at you warily – or perhaps worriedly? – before he situates himself back in the driver’s seat, starting the car right after you’ve fixed your appearance. Considering it’s already late, he’s struggling to find any restaurant or diners open to appease your cravings, though he doesn’t complain about it.

You fiddle with your hands on your lap, unable to find a proper explanation to his behavior. “Sukuna…” you start off nervously, refusing to look him in the eye. “Do you uhm…do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that, sweetheart?”

“I meant…maybe you just like me for my body, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head towards you, “I’m too old for drama and playing with people’s feelings. Like I said, the cards are all in your hands now. If you want us to just have casual sex, I don’t mind, but if you also want to be, uhm…” Sukuna awkwardly rubs at the back of his head with a clear of his throat, the tables turned because now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. “…something more, then I won’t refuse that either. I’m up to whatever you want to do.”

“And if I said that…maybe I’m considering getting to know you better?”

“Then maybe I would happily say yes.”

You smile at how easily he lightens up the mood, feeling a smile already playing on your lips as you giggle. “Just a maybe?”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he groans, averting his eyes from the road (it’s empty anyway) to get a quick peck. You whack his arm and his laugh only grows louder; he knows you’re not really angry, because he kisses really good and you like it a lot more than you’ll admit.

“I’ll be a hundred times of a better boyfriend than what you’d expect.”

“You’re really confident, huh?”

“Oh, I’m confident I can treat you well,” he nods proudly, head tipping back to the backseat. “I did just let you ruin my leather exterior and let you walk away while I have a raging boner. Do you have any idea how much self restraint a man has to have to let that happen?”

“Probably an immaculate one. Megumi would never let me go unless he’s came.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy,” Sukuna doesn’t even bother to try and hide his hatred for your former crush, and you’re smiling like a lovesick fool on the seat. “You’re with me now. So, since I want to spoil you, how many milkshakes do you want?”

Back then, you were always too addicted to lies that seemed so sweet that you couldn’t be able to stop. But now that you’ve met Sukuna, perhaps the blissful truth is a lot sweeter, and it’s a much healthier addiction you’ll take any day.

taglist: @thesimpsclub @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma @sklycan​ @ggsmashgg​ @dora-the-grownup​ @ninefuckingoneone​ @ambiguous-something​ 

[starryhyuck]

limit. (m)

pairing: gryffindor!mark x reader

words: 3.4k+

summary: with gryffindor on a continuous losing streak, you have no choice but to push your quidditch player boyfriend to his breaking point.

genre: smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex, degradation, daddy kink, face slapping

“If you keep pushing him, he’ll snap.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

You observe Mark across the Great Hall, fingers clenched tightly around his spoon. The other Gryffindor seated beside him are eyeing him warily, afraid the resident happy Head Boy was slowly losing his mind.

This, of course, is partly due to you.

You’ve refused to give Mark an orgasm until Gryffindor wins a Quidditch match, which has effectively been very hard since the team has been on a losing streak. You and Mark aren’t animals, per se, but the two of you fucked regularly and the fact that he hasn’t gotten the chance to touch you in weeks is taking a toll on him.

Lucas swings an arm around his shoulder and whispers something to him, but Mark’s eyes are locked in on you. You could almost feel the magic radiating off of his form. You smile deviously, arm reaching to wrap around Donghyuck’s, who gladly accepts your touch. Luckily, Donghyuck enjoys pushing Mark’s buttons almost as much as you do.

Donghyuck’s in the middle of feeding you a bite of his chicken when all of the glasses in the Great Hall shatter. A jumbled murmur of shrieks and gasps of surprise echo at the performance of wandless magic. Students whip their heads around, frantically trying to find the source of the fiasco. You already know who the culprit is, watching as Mark stomps out of the Great Hall, fists clenched tightly.

—

Donghyuck snickers beside you.

“You’re really asking for it. Wearing Slytherin gear and sitting with the snakes? He’s going to ruin you.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comment and adjusting the green tie wrapped around your neck. You briefly lock eyes with your irate boyfriend, who is currently on the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the match to begin. You smile and wave at him innocently, only to receive the nastiest look in return.

Donghyuck laughs again at the exchange. “I’ve never seen Mark look like that. Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences?”

You grin as the game begins, the cheering sounds from the Slytherin stands almost drowning out your voice.

“He needs a little push. Gryffindor has lost three games in a row already.”

You prove Donghyuck right a hour into the game. Mark has been scoring goal after goal since the match started. Slytherin’s Keeper tries to block every single throw, but Mark is clearly on a mission, showing no mercy to the Slytherin house. He almost looks like he would Avada someone on the spot just to win.

Every time he scores, he makes a point to look straight at you before zooming off. You smirk to yourself, already feeling your panties dampen at the sight. One part of you is slightly afraid of what Mark will do to you once Gryffindor wins. The other part of you is unabashedly excited.

The Slytherins around you groan and complain as Mark continuously scores. Donghyuck is enjoying the show, knowing you’re truly in for it later after seeing the murderous look painted on Mark’s face.

The game ends after two hours, with the Gryffindor Seeker securing the Snitch and winning the match. The sea of red erupts in a roar of applause and cheers, while the Slytherins grumble and curse their luck. It was the first loss of the season for the Slytherins, and they could all thank your boyfriend for that.

Usually, when Mark wins a game, you would wait outside the locker rooms and congratulate him with a kiss. This time, you want to make him work for it a little more.

Donghyuck chuckles when he sees you turn the opposite direction of the locker rooms.

“You’re in for it now.”

—

You’re laughing at something Doyeon’s telling you when you feel the abrupt tug on your arm. You hiss at the contact, ready to hex whoever it is. Realization seeps within you when you see the look of fury on Mark’s face as he tugs you away from your friends.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You call out, already feeling the slick of your wetness coating your thighs.

“Okay! Great game, Mark!”

The Gryffindor boy doesn’t even thank them, pulling open the door to the empty Potions classroom and shoving you inside. You put on your innocent persona.

“That wasn’t very nice. I was having an interesting conversation with Doyeon, if you must know.”

“On the desk. Now.”

The anger laced in his tone has your body vibrating. You decide to push him even further, frowning and clutching your books tighter to your chest. You still have Donghyuck’s Slytherin scarf wrapped around you, which Mark is heavily glaring at.

“I don’t even get a please? Where are your manners, Mark?”

You gasp when he steps forward, fingers bunching around the locks of your hair and pulling. Hard.

“You think this is so funny, don’t you? Watching me fall apart, breaking all the glasses in the Great Hall and receiving detention for it? How about wanting to injure someone on the field just so we could win? Just so I can come back to you, fuck you so hard your tight cunt stretches out.” His fingers grip the fabric of your skirt and he growls. You swear you can feel your juices start running down the inside of your thigh with how wet you are. “And what about this? This stupid fucking little skirt. You think you could get away with that too?”

You placed a charm on your clothing early this morning, making your button-up shirt just a little tighter around your chest and your skirt a little shorter than normal. You smile and try to raise your chin as much as possible, struggling as Mark continues to pull your hair.

“Daddy likes it? I did it just for you. Just so Daddy could win today.”

Mark’s eyes are the darkest they have ever been, and you try not to glance down at his trousers, which are probably straining from his growing erection. You only play the Daddy card once or twice, mainly because once it’s out in the open, Mark fucks you until you can’t feel your legs. And most days, you would prefer not to limp from class to class.

Another gasp rips out of your throat when he discards your clothing with the flick of his wand. He casts a silencing charm on the room, and you know you’re done for.

He leaves you in your undergarments, and today, you have chosen to wear a nice lacy number in Slytherin green. The sight makes him hiss in frustration, and it isn’t long before he slams you down on a nearby desk. You whimper at the contact, but Mark hardly cares about your well-being at this point.

He snickers at the sight of your ruined underwear, snapping the garter you’re wearing against your skin as you yelp.

“Look at you. Greedy little slut. Who got you this wet?”

“D-Donghyuck,” you manage to say, gathering enough courage.

The answer earns you a slap across the face and you cry at the pain.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Y-You, Daddy. Just y-you.”

He hums in contentment. You shudder when you feel a finger run up and down your slit. “I’m going to make the rules very clear today. You’ll do your best to obey them, or else I’ll use your body how I please without letting you cum. Understood?” At your timid nod, he continues. “I’m going to fuck your tight little cunt raw. I’m going to cum as much as I like, and make you cum as much as I like. If I hear any protests, I’ll add an extra orgasm to the list. I don’t care if you’ve reached your limit. I don’t care if you can’t handle any more. I’ll do whatever I like, and there will be no arguments about it.”

You chew on your bottom lip. Mark has never fucked you raw before — you both always use Muggle condoms or contraceptive charms.

“But, Mark-“

He slaps your clothed slit and you gasp loudly. “That’s another orgasm added to the list. Do you want another one? We’re already at five.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been able to take more than three orgasms from him without passing out. You immediately shake your head, sealing your lips tight.

“Good. Bend over.”

You scramble to follow his orders, shakily positioning yourself over the desk. Another flick of his wand and you’re completely naked. You whimper at the vulnerability, wondering if he also cast locking charms on the doors too. Anyone could walk in and see you bent over like this.

Mark usually likes to see your face when he fucks you so you’ve never really tried this position with him. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel his hands exploring your backside.

“Wish everyone could see you like this for me. Bent over during dinner while I fuck you into the table. They always tease me about you. Gryffindor Head Boy could never satisfy his partner. They think I’m such a goody-two-shoes.” You almost scream when a finger unexpectedly pushes into you. “I wonder what everyone would think now — having you bent over the Potions desk like this, eager to be fucked like a little whore. Waiting for my cock to split you apart, isn’t that right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you garble.

He adds another finger, the squelch of your wetness causing you to grow even warmer. He thrusts his fingers inside of you, skillfully digging them into the spot you love.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about your cunt? Ever since you made that ridiculous bet with me, I knew I was done for. I had to excuse myself so many times from class just to rub one out in the bathroom. Seeing you in this cute little skirt, so eager to earn House Points, so willing to please the professor. I imagined how tight your pussy would feel when I wrapped a hand around myself, how many of those sweet moans I could bring out of you.”

When he pushes a third finger in, you shriek as you cum without warning. You were probably moaning without any sense, writhing on top of the desk as Mark fingers you through your orgasm. He drank up every single one of your sounds, gazing down at you with a feral look in his eyes.

Even as your orgasm subsides, Mark doesn’t stop fucking you. You almost request for him to give you a break, but you know it’ll just earn you another orgasm.

He watches you, waiting for you to beg for him to stop. He smiles when you obey, continuing to thrash and whine as his digits pump into you.

“So pretty, perfect for me. You’re always so tight, it’s not fair to me, you know? I could fuck you every single day and you would still need to be stretched out regardless.” He leans over your frame, mouth beginning to press open mouthed kisses at your throat. The sensation has you jolting, his fingers grinding down to rub at your clit. “But you would like that, wouldn’t you? So hungry for my cock.”

This was true — you couldn’t seem to get enough of Mark on a daily basis. Even if you didn’t fuck every single day, you always had the urge to get on your knees for him and suck his cock. It calmed you in a way. Before exams, Mark would pull you into a nearby alcove and let you suck him off until your worries disappeared.

You could feel your high approaching again. “P-P-Please,” you stutter, gasping and pushing yourself further down his fingers. “Please, Daddy.”

At the sound of your begging, Mark sinks to his ground. He jerks your body until you’re halfway off the desk, pushing your thighs apart so he can see you fully. He takes a moment to marvel at how pretty you are before licking a stripe up your cunt. You groan, fingers tangling into his hair, which is still slightly damp from his after-game shower.

He hums against your folds, exploring them with his tongue. Mark could eat you out for days and remain unbothered by the outside world. There have been multiple times where you’ve woken up to his head in between your legs as he snuck into your dormitory room early in the morning to get a taste of you. There’s also been a few occasions when he would convince you to sneak out while he runs patrol in the hallways, just so he could prop you against a wall and eat you out until you cry.

Your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the feeling of Mark’s mouth on your cunt. He’s groaning with you, hands cupping your thighs and bringing you closer to him. His nose continuously nudges your clit as he licks you, slurping on the remnants of your orgasm.

It doesn’t register for a few seconds that he’s still talking to you.

“This is mine. My cunt for fucking. I’m the only one who’s allowed to see you like this, understand? The only one who gets to make you cum.”

He is, indeed. You topple headfirst into your second orgasm, juices spilling into Mark’s waiting mouth. He cleans you up as your body attempts to recover. You’re lucky he remembered to place a silencing charm, your voice almost giving out with the amount of screams you’ve emitted. He decides to spare you this time, rising from the ground and licking his lips.

“Tastes so good.” He smirks down at you, watching as your chest rises and falls from heavy panting. You feel like you’ve run a marathon, but he looks like he’s only just started. His fingers brush stray hairs away from your face. “Poor baby. All fucked out already? I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You blink deliriously in response and he laughs. His fingers dig into your hips once more as he adjusts you on your back again.

“How about you answer a question for me? If you answer correctly, I’ll give you my cock. If you fail, I’ll add another orgasm to the list.” You blink again in response, brain fuzzy. He grins. “Why don’t you tell me what a bad girl you’ve been these past few weeks?”

He slaps the inside of your thigh to jolt you out of your reverie. “I-I was a b-bad girl, Daddy.”

“Hm? And why’s that?”

“I ignored y-you,” you whisper as his hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “I cheered for S-Slytherin when I-I should have b-been c-c-cheering for Gryffindor.”

Your breath grows more shaky as Mark’s other hand inches towards your entrance again.

“And?”

“And I f-f-flirted with D-Donghyuck when I’m o-only s-s-supposed to have e-eyes for y-you, Daddy.”

“And?”

“And I charmed m-my clothes t-to tempt you.”

“Because?”

“Because I’m a whore.”

He smiles in contentment. “That’s right.”

Instead of pushing his fingers inside of you, you’re taken aback when the tip of his cock sinks into you. You moan loudly, not even noticing he had taken off his trousers.

“Fuck,” he curses, watching himself push into you. “Such a tight little cunt. Only for Daddy’s eyes, right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

His fingers find their way to your throat, curling and gripping your windpipe. You gasp and hear his sinister chuckle.

“There’s my little whore. Back in her place.”

He almost pushes you off the desk with the force of his thrusts. You have another small orgasm when Mark fully bottoms out, and he laughs when he realizes.

“Already? Looks like you’ve been just as desperate as me, baby.”

You’ve never taken more than three orgasms before. Since Hogwarts was a big school with many prying eyes, it was hard to get alone time with Mark like this. You often had to face the judgmental glares from the portraits whenever Mark fingered you behind one of the tapestries. Now that he has you all to himself, however, he intends to make the most out of it.

You’re pushing on the border of exhaustion, watching as your boyfriend continues to furiously push into you. He moves his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping you once more to wake you up.

“Have to stay awake, baby. We still have two more to go.”

You mumble incoherently in response, past the point of comprehension. Once the tip of his cock rubs against your sweet spot, you cry out in pleasure. He grunts, angling himself so that he keeps hitting that spot inside of you. Over and over.

“M-Mark, I-“

“I know. Let me feel you, baby. Want to feel your cunt cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

You can’t begin to explain the tightening feeling in your stomach. You feel like you’re flying up to your peak at an unsteady rate. It almost feels like you need to use the bathroom, but before you can warn Mark, you fall apart.

You think you black out for a bit. You blink dazedly, body twitching and nervously moving on top of the desk. You get the strength to lift your head and check on Mark. His cock has slipped out of you, his gaze locked on your pussy.

“M-Mark?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, baby. You just squirted all over me.”

You gasp. You’ve never been able to squirt before and you eye the mess you’ve made all over Mark’s chest. He grunts, fingers pumping up and down his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck. How can you be so perfect?”

And then he’s pushing back into you. You scream loudly, still trying to recover from such an intense orgasm. You realize that you’ve started crying, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Perfect girl for me,” he hisses, hand returning to paw at your breast. “Cunt is so so sweet. Can never get enough of you. Just give me one more, baby. One more.”

You want to tell him you can’t, you’ve reached your limit and can’t push it any farther. You squeal when he pinches your clit.

“Daddy, please-“

“Daddy wants another, baby. One more for me.”

His thumb circles your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you. When he finds your sweet spot again, he doesn’t rest. He’s on a mission to get you to orgasm again, the same expression painted on his face from the Quidditch game just a hour ago. He’s determined to see you fall apart, filth spewing from his mouth.

“I wish I could take you like this every time. Push you up in the hallways, fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess for me. Having everyone watch while I make you squirt, showing them I can fuck you better than anyone else can. I bet they would all be jealous. They could never have you falling apart for them, begging for them to fill you up with their seed.”

It dawns on you that Mark still hasn’t cast a contraceptive charm of any kind. He seems to be on the same wavelength as you, digging his heels to the floor and thrusting harder at the thought of cumming inside you. The lewd sound of your wetness fills the room, along with his grunts and your whimpers from oversensitivity.

“I want to fuck you everywhere before we leave this place. Want you to ride me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for everyone to see. Want all the Gryffindors to watch as their Head Boy plows into his girlfriend in the common room. Want you to bounce on my cock during every meal. Fuck, I want you so badly, baby.”

When you squirt this time, you’re coherent enough to watch it happen. Drops of your slick pour out of you, gushing onto Mark’s cock and the floor. The sound of his thighs slapping against yours only grows louder and wetter with your orgasm.

Mark hisses. “Want my cum, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you echo back to him, barely staying awake.

He groans when he reaches his high, pushing deep inside of you to empty his load. He cums more than you expected, but you suppose he’s been holding it in for weeks. He finally finishes a minute later, collapsing on top of you. He subconsciously places kisses on your neck.

“Never act up like that again. I don’t think I have the stamina to do another round.”

You giggle, about to respond when the booming voice of your Potions professor echoes throughout the room.

“Mark Lee! What on earth do you children think you’re doing? Fifty points from Gryffindor!”

[oddaodd]

· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

·

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @slytherinicequeen @lilymurphy03