#he is carrying a huge burden ALONE and this is what he will turn to what he will become to carry that and more

[lurkingshan]

Phee, New, and a Masterful Misdirect

I know I already said as much, but this week drove home again how strong DFF's writing is. Because the way this show used Phee to throw us off the scent until the end game was so, so smart.

In the first four episodes, our attention was deliberately drawn to Phee. He was established as part of one of the two romantic pairings, and we were encouraged to wonder wtf was up with his relationship with Jin. We were also given many subtle hints that Phee was acting suspicious and seemed to be intentionally investigating the boys, while Tan stayed kind of vague and in the background. Tan seemed to know Phee better than the rest, and many guessed he might be helping Phee, but for the most part, the focus was on Phee.

Then as we moved into the flashback, Tan disappeared for four entire episodes, while we get a major reveal about Phee's relationship with Non and lots of time spent on its dissolution. So of course, the prevailing theory becomes that Phee is the one orchestrating this whole investigation and tormenting these boys in the woods. And the assumption is that he's doing this because of his deep love for Non, his shame for not supporting Non when everything hit the fan, and his conviction that he was done wrong. Tan is once again assumed to be helping him, though theories differed on why, with some guessing he was Non's brother and some speculating on other reasons.

But it turns out, Phee isn't running this operation at all. "Tan" is New, and he has been the driving force the entire time. It's his guilt over leaving Non alone to go abroad that motivates him to investigate, and he pulls Phee along with him.

And Phee? Well, he's not quite as broken up about Non's death as we thought. Sure, he wants to understand where Non went and why, for closure. But he doesn't seem to be carrying any huge burdens of guilt or shame, which makes sense because aside from Non's screenplay that alludes to culprits he doesn't name, he doesn't actually know the truth about Non's situation with Keng or what any of these boys did. He jumps into a romance with Jin incredibly quickly, and it's clear the attraction and his feelings are genuine even as he justifies it to New by claiming it's for the investigation. He takes Jin to the place where he asked Non to be his boyfriend, so apparently this is not something he holds sacred. The morning after he has sex with Jin, Phee is in Jin's room while he's asleep, and does not take the opportunity to investigate. Instead he moons over Jin, cuddles up to him, and instigates morning sex. He is still staring off into space smiling to himself about it until New accuses him of cheating on his brother, at which point he remembers what he's supposed to be doing, makes his excuses, and puts up walls with Jin.

And from then on, they don't seem to learn much of anything, and I suspect that Phee doesn't really want to, because he likes Jin and doesn't want to know what he did to Non. Phee, as it turns out, is just an immature high school boy who liked his boyfriend, but moved on pretty quickly once it was over. He would not be doing any of this if it wasn't for New, and it's clear his heart isn't in it. New is the one who feels deep guilt, who wants to learn what the group did to Non, and whose trauma compounds until he snaps and hatches a plan to trap them at the vacation house and dose them with hallucinogens. Phee goes along with it, but as we saw, his motive seems to be more about reconnecting with Jin before he leaves the country than actually caring about punishing these boys for what happened to Non.

What a great, nuanced little twist to this reveal. New has been the one running the show the whole time, and the show managed to keep that from us via a classic misdirect with Phee. I love that this show manages to keep finding ways to surprise us even when we have some of the picture figured out.

[rainylana]

“My angel baby, I’m here.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie finds out that you self harm.

warnings: reader self harms and is severely depressed, undertones of poor eating habits but very brief, language, lots of tears, blood, angst to the max, mentions of periods.

a/n: this is the longest that i’ve posted yet since getting back into writing and i’m super happy with how it turned out! it is a sensitive topic so it won’t be for everyone. this is dedicated to all the ones who can relate to this fic. i hope you all have an eddie in times when it gets too much. please let me know what you think. it means the world and more than you can imagine.

You knew that what you did was not healthy. You knew it was sick and messed up. You knew that if anyone found out, they’d think that you were insane. The scars you gave yourself had no real reason to be there. You blamed yourself for that. You didn’t know how to deal with your issues any other way. The moment you were alone you’d drift off to the bathroom, turn the shower on and begin your twisted ritual of self abrasions.

Life for you was difficult, but still, marking your self up was no excuse. You had tried to quiet, of course. Many times you had, but it was a habit you could not break. You were too used to doing it. It was an everyday thing. It was like breathing. You breath to live. You can’t not just breath. So for you, cutting yourself was like breathing. You didn’t think you could stop. It helped you deal with your pain.

If you’d have known what the evening was going to hold for you, you would have slit your throat the moment you woke up.

Darkness clouded your mind. Sitting in class, the fog you knew well was storming your brain cells, making everything else fuzzy and hard to understand. Everyone looked blurry, their faces funny and distorted. They sounded odd. Your heart ached and sunk into the pit of your stomach like it always did. You had no way of explaining what this feeling was and what it meant, but you didn’t like it at all. Once it got you, it had you.

You didn’t try to share any of this with Eddie. You didn’t want him to know how much you struggled. Scaring him away was your worst fear. It was why you never let him see the tops of your thighs. Sex was always under the covers. Lights off. Eddie didn’t complain of course. To him, sex was sex.

And god, did you love him. You loved him with your whole heart and soul. You’d be devastated if he knew your secret. It felt awful to bare, this huge burden you carried on your shoulders. You wondered if any of your other classmates shared it too. There was a darkness in your heart that was eating you alive.

“Babe,” A warm, thick hand grabbed your shoulder, pulling you from sinking to the bottom of the pool you were drowning in.

“Huh?” You said a little louder than you’d realized, blinking rapidly as your vision spun around the room. “What?”

You turned around in your seat to find Eddie’s doe eyes narrowed. “You good?” He whispered, leaning closer. “You’ve been staring at the floor for fifteen minutes.” Your class wasn’t even doing anything important. You had a sub, so everyone was doing their own studying or reading. Eddie had been talking to you until you drifted off.

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded with a swallow, grabbing his hand that still laid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Ed.”

“Just checking on my girl.” He gave you a wink that made you blush. “You coming over tonight?”

“Yeah.” You whispered with a fake smile, exhaustion taking over. He could see the way your lips had faltered. You turned back around and laid your head on your desk, arms being your pillow.

Eddie stared at you.

He might not have been the brightest bulb in the shed, but he knew you weren’t the happiest girl in the world. He knew you were sad and weren’t telling him about it. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to pressure you into it, but still, he was worried about you. He wished for one night that they both could talk about you instead of his problems for a change.

Maybe tonight could be the night.

•

You must’ve gotten your period, he figured. Here it was four o’clock in the morning, and for some reason he couldn’t sleep. He had gotten up to get a glass of water but stopped when he’d seen blood seeping through the tops of your sweatpants, the blankets kicked down below your feet.

“Babe,” He said groggily, giving your shoulder a light shake. “Y/n, wake up.”

You hummed back asleep.

“Y/n, I think you got your period,” He rubbed his eyes, leaning over you to switch on the light. “You’re bleeding.”

That woke you up. “Huh?” Your eyes went wide and you sat up. “Oh,” You gasped upon seeing the red leaks of blood seeping from your sweatpants. An inhumane shock of terror left your throat and you leapt from the bed to disappear into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Eddie, thinking it was your period, thought it was a little funny, even if he was exhausted. He got up and followed you to the door. “Baby, hey, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll get some new sheets from the closet, alright? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You didn’t respond. He waited for a moment to see if you would. He even knocked a few times before giving up and switching out the sheets on the bed. In fact, he did a lot before you actually came out. He changed the bed entirely, knocking again until you muttered a shaky response that you’d be out soon. He bit his thumb nail and paced for another five minutes before he went out for a smoke. He remained seated on the bed when you finally came out.

When he saw you, he knew something was deeply wrong. Your face was white and you were visibly shaken. Your face was stained with dried tears, your eyes bloodshot. Your heart felt like it was broken. This was too close. Nobody had ever gotten this close of finding out. The idea of him knowing made you feel sick. It was your burden and yours alone. It was yours. As sick as it was, it was who you were. Who were you if you didn’t do this? You were so used to it. It was routine for you. Half of the time you did it just to….well, just to do it, to feel something. You were addicted.

“Y/n,” Eddie glanced you over. “what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He stepped toward you, grabbing your elbows lightly. “Hey,”

You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go to bed.” You dismissed, now wearing a pair of dark leggings.

“Wait— babe, you’re crying,” He followed you to the bed, watching as you fixed the blanket over yourself. “Are you sick?”

“No, Eddie, I’m fine.” You adjusted your pillow, your body shutting down into survival mode. You needed the situation to be dismissed, shut down. “I’m sorry about the blood, was just my period.”

He sat down on the bed by your thighs. “Don’t be sorry bout’ that, honey. Just want to make sure you’re alright. You need anything? You want some water or something?”

“Eddie, I’m okay.” You stressed, laying down and turning your back to him. “Just forget about it, please.” Your voice broke.

He absolutely did not want to forget about it, not with the way you were trying not to cry. He sat there in the same spot for almost three minutes, eyes glued to your cheek. “Y/n,” He said again. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

You groaned into the pillow. “Damnit, Eddie, lay down!”

“See, I know you,” He shook his head. “You would never be this bothered over your period. Hell, last month you chased me around with your tampon!” He said bewildered, chuckling slightly. “Something else is wrong and you’re not telling me, and when something makes my girl cry, I want to know what it is, so tell me what’s got you so worked up, huh?”

You let out a sob and curled into yourself. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. God, you were so stupid. You shouldn’t have cut so deep.

“Baby,” Eddie frowned, leaning down to lay his torso on you, his chin laying on your shoulder so he could look at you. “Did I hurt your feelings today? Did I say something?”

“No.” You cried into your pillow. “No, Eddie, it’s not you. I promise, it isn’t you.”

He thought maybe he should just drop it, let you go to sleep and maybe it would be okay in the morning, but you were still crying, little puffs and pouts here and there. He couldn’t just dismiss that.

“It’s me.” You found yourself saying, out of the blue.

“What?” He missed what you had said. “I can’t hear you, honey.” He strained his ears to hear you.

“It’s fucking me!” You sobbed into your pillow, chest heaving with a heavy breath that made him jolt. “I’m the fucking problem!”

He had no idea why you were so upset. He didn’t know what to do. He gulped harshly. “Y/n,” He cooed, shushing you gently. He scooted closer, holding you tighter to place a kiss on your temple. “I’m here, baby. Shh, shh, I’m here.”

You let go, sobbing in his arms and into your wet pillow, you broke down in sobs. Most of it was just because you were purely exhausted and you were emotionally drained, depressed. This week you were in a deeper funk than what you’ve normally been in. You hadn’t been eating properly to start. Your showers consisted of laying on the floor and imaging yourself drowning. The idea of Eddie knowing your secret made you want to die, yet you spoke anyway.

“I’m so sad.” You whimpered while Eddie rocked you in his arms, his hands stroking your hair.

He’d thought maybe you’d fallen asleep. You’d been quiet for several minutes. “Why, baby?” He kissed your shoulder.

“I don’t know,” You thought, a crinkle in your nose as you tried to reason why you felt the way you did. “Something is wrong with me, Eddie.”

You were starting to scare him. He’d never heard you talk like this before. He swallowed hard, batting his eyes across the room like his answers were a poster on the wall. “Y/n, if you tell me maybe I can help you.”

God, was help possible? Could you stop? Did you even want to? Who were you if you didn’t have that one constant in your life?

The idea brought on a wave of fresh tears, your lips turning down in a blubbering frown. “You’ll think I’m disgusting.” Your back shook against his broad, bare chest. “You won’t— you won’t ever look at me the same. You’ll think…fuck, you’ll think I’m disgusting.” You sobbed broken-hearted.

Eddie started at your face, features masked in concern. He didn’t know what to do to make you feel better, and his mind was flashing the worst things that could’ve made you so upset, his imagination getting the best of him.

“Sweetheart, I promise whatever you think I’m going to say or do isn’t true.” He leaned over to wipe a tear. “I’m going to love you no matter what you say. That’s how this works, remember? Please, baby, tell me. You’re worrying me.”

Guilt made your heart pound. You let out a long mewl, curling up like a cat so you could cry. Eddie still didn’t let you go. This was your nightmare, yet you, yourself, were making it come true.

“I didn’t get my period.” You said with wet lashes.

“What do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes down at you.

You let out a sob, holding a hand to your stomach. “I mean, I- fuck, I didn’t get my..my- period!” You hyperventilated through your breath.

“Shh, calm down, sweetheart, you don’t have to rush,” He soothed you, rubbing your arms. “Come on, sit up with me.” He gently lifted you by the torso, your hair cascading down your back. You looked like a scared little girl. Your eyes were wet and your face was soaked like you’d been laying in the rain. Eddie sighed, his mouth in a frown as he tried to help you.

“Breath, honey,” He fixed your hair, smoothing it down in rough places.

“I’m so sorry.” You whimpered, grabbing his hands tightly, squeezing them.

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for, angel. Just want you to tell me what’s got you so upset. What is it that you want to tell me?” He knew whatever it was, you wanted to tell him. And deep down, you did. Maybe that was why you couldn’t shut the hell up.

“I’m so scared.” You shuttered a breath. “I’m so scared that you’ll…what you’ll think of me.”

His heart was beating loud in his chest. “You said that you didn’t get your period,” He tried to question you gently. “What does that mean?”

Did you really want to do this? Did you want to just let it all go within a blink of an eye? Truthfully, yeah. Yeah, you did. You couldn’t do it anymore. At least not alone.

You sat up slightly, fingertips grabbing the waistband of your sweats as you tugged them down to your knees. You didn’t look at him as you sank back down to sit on your ankles.

“I cut too deep.” You wept, staring down at your thighs. It was your canvas, your target area. They were scared on every inch. Some white and faded with age, some angry and red.

When Eddie saw them, it connected all dots instantly. His eyes widened in horror at your legs. They looked absolutely terrifying. He couldn’t help let out a gasp. “Oh, god, y/n,”

His large palms ghosted over them, and he leaned down so he could examine them closer. “Jesus,” His own eyes blurred with tears, his bottom lip quivering with emotion.

“I know,” You shook your head shamefully. “I know, Eddie, but I can’t help it.” You lifted your head up as you shuttered out a tearful breath. “I can’t stop no matter how hard I try. It’s the only thing that helps me.”

“God, y/n,” He traced your scars with his fingertips, jaw fallen slack in shock.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You bawled. “I’m so…I don’t know, I’m just- just- so miserable and it’s the only thing that seems to help. I’m just so used to doing it and I don’t think I can stop!” You blubbered, snot dripping onto your cupid’s bow and dipping into your lip.

Eddie’s head snapped up. “Oh, baby, come here.” He grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. You crawled to him immediately. He cradled your back as you threw your legs around his waist, your chests flush together in a bear hug. You sobbed into his shoulder, his kisses peppering your neck. “I’m here, I’m here.” He repeated.

“My angel baby, I’m here.”

Your body wracked with moans and groans of heartbreak, but you couldn’t deny the amount of relief that left your soul. It finally wasn’t alone on your shoulders. “God, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” Eddie hushed you. “You have nothing, nothing at all to be sorry about. I should be apologizing. I should have realized. I had no idea you were unhappy.”

“I’m so fucked up,” Your voice muffled against his skin. “I don’t even know why I’m sad I just- I just am! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Stop saying that.” He held the back of your head with his palm. “How you feel is perfectly understandable. I’m glad you told me. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Baby, I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this alone, but I’m right here now, okay? I’m gonna help you through this. I’m gonna help you rise above this because you’re so strong and you don’t even realize it. But you’re my girl and I know.” He rocked you in his arms, cradled you like a baby as you cried. “I know, baby, I’m here, I’ve got you honey.”

“Please, help me.” You fisted his curls, your chest hollow, yet heavy with emotion. “I need help.”

He nodded, whispering soothing words of encouragement as he fought off a wave of tears. “You can get past this. I did.”

You pulled away, your face an absolute mess. Red, snotty and tearful. Your lips pulled down in the deepest of frowns. “Oh, Eddie,”

He turned his elbow in a 90 degree angle, and angle you’ve never exactly examined, and cried when you saw the faded white scars. You went right back to his chest, holding him like a teddy bear. “Oh, Eddie, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

He held you close and kissed your shoulder, allowing one singular tear to spill that you didn’t have to see. He stopped when he met you. You were his saving grace. He’d be sure and do the same for you. His angel baby.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 25th

Pregnancy, Papa Emeritus I x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.7k.

Warnings: Pregnancy; pregnancy sex; (consensual) groping; cunnilingus (I absolutely did not steal this scene from a previous Primo fic I wrote and change it up slightly, I don’t know what you’re insinuating but it is unappreciated and how very dare you); praise kink (y’all should know me by now); body worship; mild breeding kink; multiple orgasms;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

If Primo had his way, he would have you bed-ridden and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the Ministry. He wasn’t ever a possessive man, nor was he territorial, yet all that changed when you fell pregnant with his child. He hated members of the Clergy even so much as breathing in your direction, let alone looking at you or, Satan forbid, trying to hold a conversation with you. When other people made a reach for your pregnancy bump, he found himself slapping their hands away with his cane. That you were grateful for.

Apparently all personal space went out the window when you became pregnant, your baby bump was free real estate for strangers to touch without permission apparently. But you were always the bad guy when you told them to back off. You loved that Primo listened when you complained about it, and you were incredibly grateful that he was willing to take on the persona of the gumpy old man if it meant you could get some space.

However, behind closed doors, Primo was almost as bad as the rest of the world when it came to your personal space. He fussed, he worried, but he also groped. He simply could not keep his hands off you. Some of it was innocent, especially when he would come up behind you and gently lift your bump, giving you some respite from the heavy burden you had been carrying for so long. But most of the time his hands were just downright naughty with the places he gripped onto.

Your breasts were a particular favourite of his hands. Your pregnancy had made you grow everywhere, tits and ass included, and he was certainly a huge fan of this. The way you were now multiple cup sizes bigger, heavy with milk for your unborn baby - all maternal and ready to sustain the life you were creating. Not to mention the way you jiggled when you moved, the way your ass wobbled as you wandered around your chambers. He couldn’t help himself most of the time, he just had to have his hands on you.

The particular maternity dress you wore today was really pretty, and comfortable for you especially in the coolness of the Italian autumn. But it was particularly triggering for you partner given it showcased your breasts in the most perfect of ways, and fell over your hips giving you a tempting shape that he simply could not resist. All you were doing was standing there pouring yourself a glass of water. But that was a crime in Primo’s eyes that couldn’t go unpunished.

You felt his wandering hands over your hips, gloved digits stroking the clothed flesh and meandering upwards to cup your heavy breasts. His lips, hidden beneath his thin paint, caressed the back of your neck, tickling your sweet and sensitive spot. You giggled at the sensation, but couldn’t deny the instant arousal that flooded your cunt the second you felt his hands on your body. His arousal evident by the hardness pressed against your lower back, and transferring into you.

“What’s got into you?” You asked, turning your head to look at your partner over your shoulder.

“You look positively delectable, fiorellina.” He complimented, his voice muffled by your skin.

“You do realise we have meetings and many other things to do today, right?”

“Frankly, my dear,” he swivelled your hips and turned you around so he could see your face, “Non mi importa. Not when I want to ravish the mother of my child as she deserves, no?”

His lips met yours and grew more passionate the longer he was attached to you; his hands became more and more impatient with the clothes that were separating your body from his. Your own hands moved to grip his robes, pulling them upwards to have access to his hard cock. Primo hated wearing undergarments with his robes - they were long enough to cover everything so why would he bother with them? Though, with your pregnant belly, it was particularly difficult for you to play with him in the way you usually would - or even wanted to. “Papa.” You complained through kisses. “I can’t touch you.”

“To the bedroom, fiorellina. Let me touch you instead, sì?”

You nodded and wandered off to the bedroom, removing your panties when you got there and sitting on the bed to help you kick them off completely. When he walked into the bedroom, he helped you out of your dress, gently pulling the fabric off of you and kissing the exposed flesh. He always wanted to make sure you knew how he loved and appreciated you, even if he was rougher with you than he ought to be. Undressing you and giving you tender kisses was his way of doing that. Your bra was the next to go, and Primo groaned at the sight of your nipples, enlarged and erect, just begging to be played with and sucked on. He gave you one final kiss before sitting you back onto the bed.

“Lay back.” Primo ordered you, removing his mitre and placing it on the dresser where it usually sat. You did as he asked, lying back and watching him disrobe - naked in an instant. That thought always made you laugh.

He situated himself between your legs, staring at your glistening folds and taking in the glorious sight of them, wet and ready for him. Your swollen clit, red and aching, screaming at him to wrap his lips around them and provide you with the most pleasure. You were always ready for him at a moment’s notice before the pregnancy, but the hormones had made you ravenous and insatiable. Not that Primo was complaining, of course. You made him feel young again with the amount of times you wanted to mount him and take what you needed from him. He was always more than happy to oblige, enjoying his pregnant wife bouncing on his cock first thing in the morning.

He first placed kisses to your calves - gentle, soft pecks that were barely there, but sporadically timed so you didn’t know when they’d land. His fingertips delicately caressed any exposed flesh he could reach, adding another layer of sensation to the already soft touches. Though, you knew your thighs would be painted black and white from his paints transferring.

“Always so good for your Papa.” He whispered, his deep voice gravelly with decades of use. “Always so obedient and helpful.” His lips now had moved up to your pubic mound. You could feel his breath flow between your folds before he’d placed a kiss just above them, making you shiver in anticipation for that final touch.

Papa, at times, felt like a walking stereotype given his unmatched patience and languid movements. He liked to blame his age, but you knew he enjoyed torturing you slowly, like he was sustained from your frustrations alone. And so, when you had grown impatient and considered sitting up to tell him to let you please him instead, his tongue finally made contact. But this time it had no softness to it - this time he was brutal in his movements.

The initial lick was broad and rough, causing you to scream out unexpectedly. But this was soon followed by his lips suctioning themselves around your clit and sucking as hard as he could, giving you overwhelming pleasure that bordered on pain. With his mouth still closed around your clit, the tip of his tongue continued to work it in multiple directions, almost erratic with his ministrations. He continued like this for what seemed like eternity; his head even moving in all directions when he sucked on your sensitive bud to keep your pleasure as lively as possible. Usually, such intense pleasure would have your hands flying to his bald head, but your rather large pregnancy belly stopped you from reaching him, and so you had to make do with the sheets below you, gripping onto them as tightly as you could for purchase and to keep yourself from floating away. All the while he remained face-first in your core, unrelenting and unwilling to stop until you reached your peak.

He pulled away briefly so that he could spit on his fingers, placing them inside you and tapping upwards as his mouth worked on your clitoris. He fully intended to be inside you today, and needed to stretch you out to accommodate his size. Though, of course, you appreciated the deep burn that came with his cock filling you up, he couldn’t bear to hurt you, especially while you were hyper-senstive with the hormones your body was pumping through you to create and sustain life. Your walls were extra slippery today, and your g-spot so tender that a single touch had your hips bucking upwards quickly at the shock, despite feeling him stretch you. You called out, much louder than intended at the feel of his fingers perfectly abusing that spot inside you, dragging the utmost pleasure from your body and playing you like a fiddle he’d been playing for years.

“P-Papa!” You breathed, your body feeling like it was on fire. Your hands shifted from the sheets to pinch and play with your nipples. “I’m so close, please - fuck! - Please don’t stop!”

Primo only grunted in response, adding a little extra vibration when he did. He refused to stop what he was doing because he knew you’d lose that feeling. Instead, he upped his movements and heightened the intensity, causing you to finally tip over the edge and climax all over his face. Your back arched and your mouth fell open, with a string of expletives tumbling out of it. And Primo only stopped when you sat up and pushed him away.

He certainly was a sight to see emerging from your wetness; his paint around his mouth had completely dissolved, showing you his swollen pink lips, soiled with your cunt. There was a lazy smile on his face, and a cackle in his throat at the sight of your exhausted face, your eyes half-closed in sleepiness and your mouth wide open as you tried to breathe in as much oxygen as your lungs would hold.

“Are you ready for me, fiorellina?” He asked you, kneeling on the bed and placing your thighs over his.

“Yes, Papa. Please fuck me.”

He groaned at the way your voice moaned the last three words, bottom lip catching between his teeth and eyes roaming lower and lower until he was staring at your cunt again. His cock was placed at your entrance, ready to push his way inside you; and fuck, when he finally did? It felt like magic.

Your sensitive walls welcomed him with proverbial open arms as he slowly sank deeper and deeper into the warm recesses of your cunt. The head of his cock gently kissed your cervix as though it were welcoming him home after being apart for so long. Every inch he fed into you felt delicious as it stretched you out to fit him like a glove; a torturous yet spectacular feeling until his hips were flush to yours and his mouth released a breath of relief followed by a sharp hiss. The noise you made as you felt him breach you went straight to his cock, making it twitch as it was going in, causing you to moan even louder. Had someone been playing with your clit, you were sure you would have cum instantly.

“Papa!” Your voice was a desperate whine, a plead for him to be closer to you, or even start moving inside you. You needed him to do something.

“I know, baby girl. I know. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You shudderred. “Please move!”

The first thrust was so intense you thought you were about to pass out, but all it was was a gentle movement. Your hands immediately moved back to the bed, clutching onto the sheets so tightly, you were ripping them from their tucked state. The second thrust felt just as good, and the third had your eyes rolling back. Soon enough, Primo had picked up the pace, rhythmic yet gentle movements that had your lungs gasping for air and your brain turn to mush. You, an educated and powerful woman, now lay a puddle of hormones and pleasure on your shared bed by the cock of a man significantly older than you.

The more he thrust, the more unbearable the feeling became. Your screams as an outlet to the sheer pleasure were not working anymore, and you’d now resorted to wrapping your teeth around the silk pillowcase that kept your head comfortable below you. Your back arched off the bed as much as it comfortably could, losing your mind even more now that his hips had picked up the pace. You were blissfully unaware of the way you looked, or how much you were making him suffer.

You were divine; a Goddess sent as a reward by Lucifer for all his hard work. Your body, carrying life that he’d helped create jiggling beneath him with the gentle force of his hips. Your thighs wobbling at the movements, your breasts, heavy, round and full, nice and plump and begging to be played with and sucked into his mouth. You always looked absolutely delicious, but right now you looked so tempting he almost wished you weren’t pregnant so he could fuck another baby into you this very moment. He released a deep, gutteral groan from your walls tightening around him after he’d told you that.

“Gonna keep pumping you full of kids, keep you knocked up as much as I can.” He continued. “You want that, fiorellina? You want me to keep fucking babies into you? Keep showing these fucks around the Ministry who you belong to?”

“Yes, Papa!” You screamed when you were finally able to release the pillow from your mouth.

His thumb came down to your clitoris and began rubbing circles in the tender bundle of nerves there, causing another scream to come out of you. “You can give me one more, can’t you?” He asked, his voice gentle and soothing.

You were almost sobbing. “No, Papa. I can’t.”

“Yes you can, fiorellina. Give me one more. Papa’s almost finished. One more.” He felt you tighten around him one more time as both his hand and his words tipped you over the edge. Your ears rang, your vision went white, your body tensed as he worked you through your second and final orgasm of the night. It felt as though you were exploding from the inside out, the feeling so powerful and incredible you could hardly breathe. All the while, despite the ringing, you could hear Primo in the distance somewhere talking you through it. “È tutto qui. That’s it, fiorellina. Breathe for me. Such a good girl for Papa. Cazzo! I’m gonna -”

Primo could barely finish his sentence before he stilled inside you, one final thrust that had him burying himself as deep as he could and emptying himself completely. Your sensitivity had you twitching each time he did, tightening involuntarily around him at each movement causing his orgasm to occur stronger than it usually did.

He pulled out and collapsed next to you, the room filled with nothing but your exhausted grunts and gasps for air at such an intense session. Eventually, when you were both strong enough, you made eye contact and laughed at each other despite nothing being funny. You wanted to move towards him and cuddle into him, but your body wasn’t responding the way you wanted it to today, so you settled for reaching for his hand.

Once you’d both calmed down, you began a conversation, filling the silence with more intimacy and sweetness as you still lay there recovering.

“Oh,” he said, remembering something important, “I will be home late tonight, fiorellina. My fratellini want an Uno night so I promised them I’d be there.”

“Good, it’s about time you got to spend some time with them. I know Papa Terzo has been down recently since they deposed him.”

“Sì. Thank you for understanding, amore mio.” He turned onto his side and cupped your opposite cheek, kissing the one closest to him. “Ti amo.”

“I love you, too.” You told him. “Now go tend to your garden. I need a nap. You’ve broken me.”

“Mi dispiace, fiorellina. Sleep well.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[icarustypicalfall]

you are home

john price x reader

comfort fluff <3

warnings: none

note: i didn't include the huge ahh skin care step by step cuz i am lazy 💅🏻

"will you ever get sick of me?"

"loving you is the antidote"

Once in a while, you and John found solace in the comfort of your home, far away from the base, the burdens of war, and the constant threats that loomed. With his relentless responsibilities, it was rare for the two of you to have a moment alone, as John always seemed to be on the run.

But tonight was different.

After tidying up the kitchen from the delightful mess you had made together earlier. You watched John with immense admiration as he skillfully prepared one of his magnificent recipes. Little did he know what you had planned for him.

As your husband reclined on the bed, oblivious to your intentions, you quietly snuck into the bathroom, gathering an assortment of skincare and body care products.

John looked confused, never quite understanding why you needed so many products or why you spent such a long time in the bathroom every night. Nonetheless, he never minded and generously indulged you by providing for all your skincare needs.

He once mentioned his willingness to learn more about caring for your hair and skin, wanting to pamper his beloved.

"Whoa, love, are you going to teach me how to use all those? Not sure I'll remember everything," John chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement, as you playfully rolled your eyes, a mischievous smile gracing your face. You carefully placed the basket on the bed before turning to your adoring husband.

"Well, I thought tonight I would take care of you, my dear," You'd announce, expression quickly transforming into a genuine smile as John's face brightened.

"Who could resist someone as beautiful as you, love?" John replied, his voice tender. After explaining the plan, he settled himself back on the bed, pulling on the bunny ears of the headband you placed on his head.

"Well, Bonnie, I'm glad my men are away. Can't have them seeing me like this. You're turning this old man into a bunny," he playfully remarked.

Your laughter reverberated softly through the room as you lit your favorite candle and selected some soothing jazz music. The ambiance was warm and inviting, carrying the gentle scents of cinnamon, clove, and the faint aroma of John's morning cigars, creating an atmosphere of peace and contentment.

Feeling a gentle squeeze around your waist and observing the eager military veteran adorned with bunny ears, you were reminded of the task at hand.

Throughout the entire experience, John asked about the different products, attentively memorizing each name and their functions. Although he hesitated in admitting it, he secretly reveled in the divine indulgence of this shared skincare night—having you close, pampering him, and later receiving a massage to soothe his tense muscles. Fatigue started to claim him, and he struggled to stay awake, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time.

By midnight, sleep beckoned, and you had succumbed, donning a sheet mask as you rested your head upon John's leg, which you had just finished massaging. John couldn't help but chuckle, taking in the sight of your comfortable yet slightly awkward posture, the trail of drool from your chin, and your serene expression.

He quietly snapped a photo, deciding that he would tease you about it in the morning. For now, he gently guided you back into bed, setting the skincare basket aside.

He brought your hand to his face, placing a tender kiss on your smooth fingertips. The softness of your skin against his lips felt heavenly.

He nestled his head back, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist, as he gazed at the moon's glow from the crook of the curtains. He couldn't ask for anything more than this perfect moment. In fact, he was content with everything life had given him. Expecially you.

(this was short cuz i wrote it in the morning and cuz im exhausted i hate studying man 🥹💀 but anyway I'll be making more comfort stuff)

[noajakah236482]

The Blue Umbrella

Her POV [Pt.2]

Warnings\ Not proofread, fem!reader, okay so maybe not that slow paced but theres a huge time skip from previous part to this part… maybe two years? She’s like college first year in this oh and I don’t know how colleges work I did a lot of research (watching dramas lol) so I hope this is a good part

♡pt1>>

The last few years of my life were quite uneventful. Just me studying to get into my dream university! Today is my first day and I’m so excited! Mel is helping me move into my dorm, my parents were… too busy to care.

“That’s all Mel! O-oh don’t drop it, NO!” My things scattered on the floor as she accidentally dropped the box. “Ooops” she muttered. I put the box I was carrying down on my bunk before rushing to help her gather my clothes from the floor.

“Oh?”

“What?” I turned to her. Then, I saw what was in her hand. Oops. “Hey! Give that here!!”

“No. Why do you still have this?” She asked pointing to my blue umbrella.

“Because I haven’t met the owner again after that day! Now give that here!”

“You could’ve left this at home”

“Well, I didn’t?”

“AAAAA MY SISTER STILL LIKES HIM!!”

“STOP MAKING ASSUMPTIONS.” I could feel my face starting to get warm, noo!!  I snatched the umbrella from her hand before setting it aside on my table and glaring at her. She just grinned at me. Before I could say something, I heard some voices from outside coming this way. What if it were my roommates? The other three bunks were already decorated and set up.

 As the voices grew closer, I couldn’t help but feel nervous, I looked over at Mel who gave me an assuring smile and thumbs up. “Sounds like your roommates are here sis!”

Sure enough, a second later, three girls walked in animatedly chatting with one another. They stopped in their tracks when they saw me. I gulped. Why are they staring?

“Oh hi! You must be our fourth roommate, nice to meet you. You’re so pretty. What’s your name? I’m Harper, this is Olivia my twin sister.” She pointed to the other brunette. “And that’s Cherry.” She said pointing to the third girl. She had blonde hair with blue streaks.

“My real name is Charlotte,” she laughed “but she’s been calling me that since the day we met.” Charlotte piped in.

“Uh my sister is a bit too extroverted so just tell us if you feel too awkward by that lol” Olivia said.

“Well, I’ll get going now, bye y/n, bye girls have fun” Mel said as she quickly walked away and left me alone. All alone. With no advice on how to talk. And make friends. Yay.

“H-hi. I’m y/n. That was my older sister Mel, she was helping me move in…”

“Hi y/n! That’s such a pretty name. Pretty name for a pretty girl! Do you mind if I call you n/n?” (nickname)

“Lol that’s creative, Harper. Wait… you’re Harper right?” I asked. This is so embarrassing…how did I already forget their names.’ I groaned internally. “She’s Harper, I’m Olivia. Olivia is the calmer one, Harper is the hyperactive one. Exactly like Leo, he’s a bit more eccentric though.” Olivia told

“Who’s Leo?” I asked

“Our brother, you’ll know soon enough. He’s too annoying. “ Harper told.

The initial awkwardness started to fade away after we started talking more. It was almost nightfall and the girls had helped me put the rest of my stuff scattered around. Thankfully it wasn’t too much to be a burden.

Suddenly, Cherry’s eyes fell on the blue umbrella sitting on my table, her curiosity piqued. “Ooo, pretty umbrella! Where’d you get it?”

“Uhm long story”

“Hey! Is that…?” Livi(Olivia) looked at Harper with a confused expression.

“Is that what?” I asked.

“Nothing… our brother had a similar umbrella like that lol. So where’d you get it?” Harper asked

“It’s…quite a long story.” I chuckled awkwardly.

“Oh don’t worry, we love a good story!” Livi chirped.

“Maybe some other day, kinda sleepy right now” I yawned.

“Awww” Harper got disappointed.

“Sorr-“

“It’s okay n/n. Harper she got here today. It must’ve been a hectic day for her, her parents also couldn’t come.” Livi scolded her. Lol

“Oh yeah… why didn’t they?” Cherry asked.

“Later. Good night girls.”

“Night n/n”

I crawled into my bunk and turned of the lamp. Livi was still reading her book but the other two went to sleep too. I couldn’t help but think of the twins’ reaction to my umbrella. There’s no way that… Like that’s absolutely impossible… I mean it isn’t but, this is such a coincidence if it is true! Is the umbrella really their brother’s? And… my parents… Should I tell them? Or will they think I come from a too messed up family, and judge me, and not want to be friends anymore? No, I don’t wanna mess this up… A single tear made it’s way down my face. Followed by a few more… I didn’t bother to wipe them.

My eyes started to close on their own. With a weary sigh, I closed my eyes. Everything will be alright. At least I hope so…

That was my last thought before I felt the gentle tug of sleep. I curled up into a ball and surrendered myself to the comforting embrace of slumber. I can worry about this later. Today was exhausting. I let go of all my anxiety and allowed myself to drift into dreamland.

_____________________________________________________

A/n>>> I feel like this part was kind of short and boring so here’s a little bonus part, livi’s pov after y/n falls asleep. I hope you liked this part though. Sorry for the long wait<3

The Blue Umbrella

Olivia POV [Pt.1]

______________

I sat on my desk, engrossed in the new book I was reading. Today was a day of laughter and chatter as we got to know about y/n. She completed our friend group, our little family. With a contended sigh, I closed my book and got ready to go to sleep. But the sight I saw when I woke up shattered me.

I had noticed the bit of sadness that lingered behind her bright smile, especially after her parents had been mentioned. Maybe she missed them, or maybe there was more to it? She didn’t really seem eager about bringing them up.

But even after that, seeing her tear-stained face, made my heart clench. Does she cry to sleep every night? I truly hope not.

A surge of concern washed over me, mingling with a fierce determination to uncover the source of y/n’s pain. She may have only just arrived but she was already part of our little family, I couldn’t bear to see her suffer alone, in silence. With a silent vow, I resolved to reach out to y/n. I want her to know that she doesn’t need to face the darkness of the world all alone. I want her to know that we’re here for her, always will be. We’re here to support her and comfort her when she feels gloomy, when her skies are grey and cloudy. We’re here for her. No matter what.

_______________________________________________________

main taglist>>> @whoslug @daydreamingmia @peapea-0405 @primordial-space-spaghetti @yeeteddemigod @incorrectenhypen @sammy0is0autistic

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

My First But Not My Last.

Pairing : Gojo x Femreader, Geto x Femreader

Setting : Started from Pre-Cult Suguru Geto // Modified that Kenjaku will not totally take over Geto's subconscious later on // Girl bff Shoko, Mei Mei & Utahime, Strong sorcerer reader // Death, Murder Spree, Romance, Lemons.

Rating : Mature || m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t

Part 2 : Why?

<< Previous ...... Next >>

How did it turn out this way?

You sat on your couch..

On yours & his couch..

Where you would talk about random stuff...

Where you would sit lazily with a book on one hand, while the other mssages his head on your lap...

Where you would argue about something petty which xh would turn into a passionate make out session...

Where he would sit down surfing tv channels while you sit comfortably on his lap, his other hand caressing your thighs...

Where you would find him asleep while waiting for you on days when you did missions apart...

Yours & Suguru's.

Now, you don't know what you did wrong & when did it all fall apart.

You were there as much as Satoru was, as he is an unofficial resident in your place.

You were beside him, always.

How could you have missed it?

You knew his smiles were fake.

His cheerful attitude was a mask.

You knew it, but you trusted his words every time you asked.

"Baby, you worry too much."

"I'm fine, really."

"I love that you care about me, but I'm just tired. That's all. I promise, baby."

Because you wanted to believe that he truly was fine.

Even if your gut tells you that something was wrong.

If only you knew that night would be the last time time you'd hug him, see him, kiss him, make love to him...

If only you knew, then you would never have let him go.

"Come on baby," he rasped against your ear, "I want to hear you.," while he pumped his fingers inside you, rubbing the spot that made your eyes roll at the back of your skull, whimpering as he continuously fuck you with his long, calloused fingers, making you cum in seconds.

You breathed heavily, legs still shaking as he went down on you, hands spreading your legs in front of him, his tongue tracing your wet entrance.

Only then did you undertand why he took his time. It was passionate, it was raw. He traced every part of your body, marked every inch of your body - like memorizing it.

Because it was the last time he would make love to you.

"Mmmm, Suguru," you moaned as you bounced on his huge shaft, your ass tingling from being slapped by his big hands, "Oh fuuuuck," you held on to his shoulders for your dear life as he gripped your ass & thrusted into you mercilessly.

"Like that, baby?"

"Mhmmm," you half moaned, half nodded as he hit your sensitjve spot over & over with his poweful thrusts, "Oh Suguru, yes please please please baby."

You came on his member as he kept his pace using your juices as a lubricant. He bit your shoulder as you dug your nails into his back hissing at the pain & pleasure.

He flipped you on all fours, pushing your head down the bed as he slammed himself into you, making you cry his name. He slapped your ass over & over but you couldn't care less because it feels so good.

If only you knew.

If only you pressed for more... For him to spill it out because you can feel that something is wrong & that he doesn't have to hide from you... That you love him very much that you wanted to carry whatever burdens him together.

Satoru knew how you feel because he is as guilty & puzzled as you are.

You woke up alone in that big bed.

Drawers empty.

His number unattended.

No leads.

No residuals.

Nothing.

"Suguru Geto murdered his entire family along with many other non-sorcerers."

Only then you heard the news from Yaga-sensei...

You couldn't believe it.

Because he's your Suguru.

Your gentle giant.

"... Sentenced to death."

Your safe haven.

Your rock.

Shoko tried to call you, but Suguru stopped her because he said he might be swayed from his motive, from the path that he chose to take.

She said that he knew that you would do everything to stop him, to change his mind & that you would win. But that will make him miserable.

That will make him full of regrets

Full of 'what ifs'.

You loved him

You still do.

But maybe it was not enough for him.

And that broke your heart into pieces.

Because Suguru Geto was your first.

And you always thought he would be your last.

A/N : Typed on my phone. Gradually proofreading typos. Please bear with me.

[not-alien-girl-v]

End Up Here (Ross Macdonald)

warning: SMUTTT SMUTT AHEAD i wrote this so quickly sorey if it’s bad

a/n: part two to kiss me kiss me

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

violet passed out after the third movie in the scream franchise. ross offered to carry her to bed but you had to argue with him to stop being so nice all the time.

so now you’re standing out on the fire escape with him, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. the stars aren’t bright but the moon is full and he’s smoking a cigarette he passes to you each time he takes a slow drag from it.

you’re to his left. with one hand, he smokes his cigarette, and as he passes it over, his other hand comes to you to rest over both your shoulders, tugging you into him a bit harshly. he can be rough sometimes, but especially when he pays no mind to it. sometimes you wonder if it’s his natural way of being, and he’s only ever gentle with you.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“thinkin about our conversation earlier. when we were talking about when we first met. how you thought it was so easy.”

“well, what about it, baby?”

“just can’t believe that’s how you viewed the story. guess that’s a good thing. on my end, at least, i was so focused on being the perfect boyfriend and i suppose i did my job right.”

“course you did,” you turn into him, wrapping both arms around his waist and settling your fingers into the slight dimples on his back. you tilt your head up to be near face to face with him, “you’re perfect to me. you know that?”

“i know that now,” his words are whispered onto your mouth, he’s close enough you can feel his breath. “i was freaked the fuck out at first tho, my love.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

2 years ago

“what’s with you, today?” george speaks loudly over the pumping music in his flat. a week ago, he moved into this apartment, alongside ross, matty, and adam, and today, the four host a housewarming party.

“me?” ross questions stupidly, there’s no one else in the room at the moment other than the two of them.

“you’re all… jumpy. squirrelly. i’ve seen you check your hair in the bathroom 4 times today.”

“my hair? what’s wrong with my hair? is it stupid?” ross is speed walking back to the bathroom again. george sighs and follows him in.

“nothing. but the fact that you care so much… is this about a certain someone?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ross mumbles but his fingers frantically digging into his hair tell a different story.

“is it that girl from backstage the other day?”

ross freezes.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” george leans casually against the doorframe. “she coming tonight?”

“yeah. but matty invited her. what if she comes, and i’m all ready to hangout with her but she’s got eyes for matty all night?”

“you hear yourself right now? you sound ridiculous.”

“am i, though? you know girls flock to him much more than they do me.”

“how about i make you a deal, okay? i’ll keep matty away from your little crush all night, if you promise to throw away the shorts.”

…

“what shorts?” ross plays dumb

“the 3 inch inseam shorts.”

he huffs, as if this is some huge burden he’s to bear, “fine.”

george is thrilled with the news, and leaves ross alone in the bathroom to continue fussing with his appearance. it’s not like george is going to stay and give him a pep talk telling him he’s a real lady killer and that he’s the sexiest guy around. that’s matty’s job.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

george has been very successful in distracting matty tonight. he started out by getting the man tastefully tipsy, then once he was comfortable in his level of intoxication, george introduced a fierce game of beer pong out on the back patio and insisted matty join, as if he would be able to say no to something like that.

she had almost, almost wandered outside to see what all the commotion was about out back but luckily, ross caught her by the arm right as her hand brushed the handle of the sliding glass door.

she whips around, hoping she hasn’t stumbled into trouble, but a warm grin spreads onto her face when she recognizes the man that the hand is attached to. it’s a welcome touch, as well.

“oh, hey bass boy. didn’t know you lived here too,” she steps out of the way of some people aiming to slip out the back door, and he absentmindedly leads her into the kitchen to have a more private moment with her.

“yeah, we all live here, the four of us. like a clown car, but a flat.”

she glances around, taking in the space fully. “i don’t know, i don’t think it’s that small. seems like plenty of space to me.” she almost gets too distracted watching people passing by, but focuses her attention back to him, and a sly smile appears, “you have your own room, handsome?”

ross’s eyes widen just a little bit, and if the lighting was a bit brighter, she’d be willing to bet money that a blush appears on his cheeks.

“um… yeah. i’ll uh… show you,” he mentally facepalms himself for sounding like such a creep about to lure her to her gruesome death. it’s just his bedroom, no promises made other than to show her his space.

through the dense crowd, she grabs onto his bicep without thinking and he does everything he can not to freak out. he keeps walking her, leading her down the hallway, eventually opening a door and motioning for her to go in first.

he closes the door behind himself when he enters after her, and immediately out of habit, shrugs his leather jacket off and tosses it to his unmade bed.

she looks at him, raising a curious eyebrow. “stripping already macdonald? at least pour me a drink, first,” she means it as a joke but continues on with her bit, removing her jean jacket as well, slipping off her shoes and looking ready to start undoing her belt.

“wait, wait, you don’t have to!”

she chuckles. “i know. i’m just fuckin’ with you. got a lighter?” she grabs a pre-rolled joint from her jacket pocket, waving it at him indicating her plans.

he’s frozen for a moment, speechless, then bursts into motion. “yeah, yeah.” he opens the drawer to his nightstand, feeling more than embarrassed when he has to dig through a pile of condoms to grasp his lighter. it’s small, white, and almost empty, but it will do the trick.

she takes it upon herself to sit down on his bed, laying back for a moment to test it out, then gleefully rolling around on top of it. “wow this thing is comfy as hell.”

he hums, watching her, a little concerned. “it’s new. the mattress, at least. bed frame, i’ve had it for years. damn thing squeaks like a mouse when…”

she sits up, a knowing look plastered on her, “when what?”

“when i sit with a beautiful girl and smoke a joint with her on it,” he tests it out like she may smack him across the face if she takes it the wrong way but he mostly means it as a joke, though his words speak the complete truth.

he comes to sit next to her, lighting the joint at his own lips.

“you think i’m beautiful?”

shit. he thought she had moved on from that already. feeling as though, he’s already dug his own grave, he just decides to lay in it, hoping she doesn’t get too uncomfortable by this whole situation and runs for the hills.

“i think you’re very beautiful.” he blows the smoke out the corner of his mouth and passes it over. this is nice, for however long it will last. it’s nice having her in his bedroom, alone, her full attention on him, giving him a good chance to stare at her long and hard.

she gets quiet as she takes a hit, like she’s dropping her confidence out the window for just a moment. “no one’s ever told me that before.”

“that’s a shame, cuz it’s true.”

he’s about to lean in and make his move on her but she swerves, unintentionally, to blow the smoke away from his face, knowing how close he is, it would be rude to blow it right at him. which gives her an idea.

“ever shotgunned before?”

he furrows his eyebrows, never understanding how she can change the subject so effortlessly fast. “don’t believe i have, no.”

“you wanna try?” she’s been sitting crisscrossed on his bed the whole time, him with both feet on the floor, but she is just itching to move closer, to enter his space more. but she needs his permission. needs to know he really does like her like she likes him, that he isn’t just being nice.

typically, this whole situation seems obvious that he’s showing major interest in her, but she’s been in nearly identical situations, only to get hit with a ‘we should do this again sometime, maybe my girlfriend can come too.’

she doesn’t want to repeat that tonight. not with him. never with him.

“yeah.” she sees a look in his eyes that speaks to her that he wants to be closer just as bad as she does, and with that, she makes her move.

she gets up onto her knees, placing one hand on his cheek to hold him steady. if she leaned her hips any further forward, they would be resting against him, but that’s too much. “when i exhale, you inhale. got it? and stay very still.”

dazed by the proximity and the prolonged eye contact, he can only nod and swallow hard.

“ok, get ready.” she takes a medium sized hit, not wanting to overdo it, and places it in his fingers resting on his lap so she can free up her hands to hold his face place properly.

she glances at his eyes, his lips, his eyes, then his lips again before she leans in, merely ghosting her lips onto his, exhaling into his open, waiting mouth. he takes it excellently, like he’s done it a million times. she hopes he didn’t lie just to encourage her to do it, but either way, she wouldn’t mind too much.

the smoke exits from his nose in a long sigh but she doesn’t find it in her to move back. in fact, she moves forward an inch to rest her forehead against his. a curious, patient hand finds it’s way to her waist, testing the waters as if she’s just going to leave right after this.

when she feels his hand and it’s gentle grasp at the bare skin between her tank top and her shorts, she reciprocates by boldly swinging her leg over both of his, resting her weight on him in a straddling position.

he reaches behind her to rest the joint in the ashtray conveniently placed right on his nightstand.

they’ve only been sitting in silence, feeling each others breaths on their faces, awaiting a move to be made. he looks at her needily, and he realizes how fortunate he is to have made it this far with a girl like her. it’s in this exact moment that he knows if he doesn’t make the move he’s been waiting for for ages, he’d regret it for as long as he’d live.

he crashes his lips into hers, urgent and desperate, but he hopes she feels the same, though it’s hard to tell when he’s only focusing on how long he’s waited for this.

she wraps her right arm around the back of his neck, hooking her elbow around it and reaching her hand to rest on his shoulder blade while her left digs into his brown hair.

meanwhile, he’s holding her firmly at the waist, still scared to go any further lest she get freaked out by him. it’s the last thing he wants to do, make her uncomfortable.

she leans in more, deepening the kiss, subtly grinding her hips down into his, and when he responds with a low groan into her mouth, one of the hottest things she’s ever experienced, she knows to continue.

she’s a little upset that he hasn’t taken to feeling her body more, hands still gentlemanly polite on her waist. she moves a hand to grip his jaw, and with the other, she removes one of his from her waist.

he worries for a moment that he’s gone too far, and that her peeling his hand off is an indication of it, so he breaks apart the kiss. a mere hum of a word escapes his mouth when she continues directing his hand, moving it to rest on her clothed breast.

he breathes out a shaky breath, not knowing how to cope with the interaction. knowing she’s going to have to continue the heavy lifting until he gets the memo, she gently massages her breast with his hand, humming out a small moan, and once he hears the hot sound come from her throat, he snaps back into motion, beginning to continue the movements she started with his hand.

she nods with a smile, leaning to kiss him hard again. she grinds her hips once more, harder this time, with more purpose, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. he breaks apart to take a breath, “fuck,” he mutters lowly.

she tugs at the bottom hem of his black tshirt, “can i take this off?” he’s already tugged it off of himself barely before she can finish her sentence. she responds with a giggle and he begins to kiss down her neck, her leaning her head to the side to give him plenty of room for his kisses, his light sucking that eventually turns harsher by the minute, leaving behind soon to be dark purple marks all over.

she moans louder this time to show her appreciation for his work and by the time he’s kissed down to the strap of her tank top, he’s looking back up at her. “can i- is this…okay? if i-“

“mm, please,” is all she says until he begins to slip it off her, fingers toying at the bottom of it, then making his way to carefully peel it off her body, over her head and off her arms. he throws it somewhere random in his room.

she gives him two firm kisses, one on the corner of his mouth and one square on the lips, then reaches behind herself to unhook her own bra. once the back is undone, he grabs it by both the straps and slowly drags it off her arms.

“god, darling, you-“ he’s interrupted by a rogue moan slipping from his lips when she grinds into him again. he decides to abandon his sentence, instead moving his mouth down to pay close attention to the display of skin she’s showing off before him.

he kisses down her sternum, gentle and sweet as he can be, then places one kiss onto he nipple of her left breast, his other hand coming up to lightly toy with the other. on the left, he places more kisses surrounding, some right on her nipple, and he licks around it, swirling his tongue over the bud.

she digs her hand into his hair and tugs on it, feeling him moan onto her skin at her movements, making a mental note to do that again sometime.

he continues to essentially make out with her tit, eventually switching to the other nipple to place wet kisses on it, giving them each equal attention.

after she’s had enough of this teasing, she places both hands on the sides of his head and pulls him up to be face to face.

“please, will you fuck me? please?” she sounds more than ready to burst with pent up arousal and she wants nothing more than to feel him fill her up perfectly like she imagined he would. he is a big man after all, that usually translates down nicely.

“mm, get on your back, he instructs her and taps her thigh twice to set her into motion.

without any hesitation, she detaches from him and crawls to the center of the bed, fussing with the belt and buttons of her shorts but he pushes her hands aside, now hovering over top of her.

“let me, baby.”

she lets him, feeling so utterly gone at the sight of his big hands unbuttoning her shorts and sliding them down her legs. once off, he throws them in the same direction her shirt and bra went.

he grabs her legs at the knees, spreading her thighs open and adjusting himself to be comfortably between them. he kisses down her stomach, enjoying the way she trembles under her touch, a mix of arousal and her being somewhat ticklish under his featherlight kisses.

he keeps going down, kissing down, and continues his way down until he can place one kiss directly onto her clit, through the barrier of her black panties. he moves to the side, kissing the very inside of her bare thighs, watching them twitch under the pressure of it. he kisses down to her knee, then reaches a hand to the waistband of her panties, looking back up at her face as a silent ask for consent.

she nods furiously, ready for him, ready for anything he’s so graciously willing to give to her at this very moment. “can you take your pants off?” it sounds silly when she says it but she knows it’s what she wants.

he takes off both, her panties first, then his own pants, returning to her bare naked body in only his boxing, raging erection on full display. he parts her thighs again, wondering why she felt the need to close them once more when he wasn’t paying active attention to her body.

he lowers his body down further on the bed, near his his head to the place she needs him most and she drips in arousal at the thought of what he’s going to do to her.

he goes in with one prodding finger first, starting at her hole then swiping a finger up, just missing her clit but making careful efforts to work around the area just around it. she feels so done with all this foreplay, she wishes he would just take her now, but she can tell he’s got a plan of his own and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to know where he was going with it.

with his thumb this time, he finally pressed into her clit, rubbing tight circles and figure eights onto it. she mewls and whimpers pathetically at the delicious pressure.

“please…” she begs.

“please what?”

she huffs a sigh, not used to this dominant, confident, and teasing version of him. “please, more, i want your mouth, please.” she speaks the word like it’s the only one she knows.

he grins madly that he has this effect on her, but ultimately follows her desperate instructions.

he leads with a harsh lick that lands right over her clit and she moans out, “ross,” and he wonders if it’s the first time he’s ever heard her speak his actual name.

then, like he’s lost all his gentlemanly manners, he grips her hips mean and moves in with his tongue. his lips wrap around her, flicking his tongue back and forth over her sensitive bud. he takes turns flicking his tongue, swirling it around her clit, and taking hard sucks at it.

meanwhile, she’s an absolute mess, desperately grasping at his hair and tugging if only to feel the vibrations of his moans onto her wet cunt.

“fuck, darling, just like that,” he’s slipping a finger into her now, pumping in and out slowly while he continues his harsh suction on her clit.

she moans out loudly, hoping it will encourage him to give her more, and it does, he begins to pump his middle and ring fingers in and out with great skill and speed, curling upwards at just the right spot to make her see stars.

his licking has gotten much messier at the addition of his fingers fucking into her, like he’s as desperate to find her release as she is. this would be the very first time he would make her cum and he wants it to be as memorable as possible.

he licks broadly over her clit, circling back to suck on it again, pulling back an inch to flick it back and forth with the very tip of his tongue, all while deliciously sliding in and out of her with his fingers.

she’s pulling harder at his locks, the feeling of his stubble burning her sensitive skin just a bit but she couldn’t care less at the moment, as she grinds her hips onto his face, chasing her release. he decides to allow her to do so, enjoying being used as a conduit for pleasure like some sex toy who’s only purpose is to get her off.

with enough weak gasps and whining moans, she finally finds her release, and he licks her through it, eating her up like it’s his last meal on this earth, and she continues grinding onto his face as she rides out the aftershocks of her mind-blowing orgasm.

as soon as she can’t take the unending pleasure any longer, drags him up by his jaw and connects their lips together once more. she doesn’t hate the way she tastes on his lips, and to be honest, it sends butterflies south on her body, she feels just about ready to go again.

“shit, please fuck me now, fuck.” she can barely whine out her words, just as he wanted.

“are you sure?” he asks her, breaking eye contact only to pull out a condom again, conveniently placed in his nightstand drawer where his lighter once was. the joint in the ashtray is pretty much forgotten by this point, burning to ash alone on the stand.

“please, i need it so bad, need you.”

he can’t contain the smile that plasters itself onto his face. how long he’s been waiting to hear her beg for his cock like this.

“as you wish, love,” he’s already slipped his boxers off at some point and she watches him roll the condom onto his length, which she’s finally getting a good look at now, and it almost seems like a challenge too much for her.

she pushes the thoughts aside, however, the moment he lines himself up with her weeping hole.

finally, he pushes into her, filling her up perfectly with just the slightest feeling of a searing stretch, not enough to cause a lot of pain, but enough to have her moaning at the feeling.

he groans loudly, a stark contrast from his previous moans, which were all low and contained.

he places both hands onto her waist, waiting for her permission to go any further, and when she gives her nod, he begins his motions.

he thrusts in and out of her, slowly, feeling like he might break her if he goes as hard and rough as he’d like to, so he stays gentle and sweet with it.

now, it’s him who is grunting and whining a bit as her tight pussy grips his cock so tightly.

she grabs him by the back of his neck to pull their lips together again, as well as to get his body just a little bit closer to hers, and she mutters in his ear while it’s lined up right by her mouth, “harder.”

he chuckles darkly and the noise goes straight to her pussy. he rocks his hips into hers with more purpose, nearing his ideal speed and roughness. she reaches down to flick her clit with a single finger but he almost immediately knocks it out of the way. “let me.”

he rubs it hard and mean, inconsiderate to the previous orgasm he just gave her and how it could be leaving her sensitive.

she clenches around him at the stimulation and he moans openly into her ear.

“fuck baby, you gotta stop or i’m gonna cum.”

“cum, i’m close.”

though he hadn’t even been inside of her for all too long, it only takes her weak command for his thrusts to begin to falter, losing traction and his grip on her hips.

he starts to work double time, eager to help her cum as fast as he is on track to. rocks his hips in and out of her at a perfect pace, spreading dripping arousal all over her clit and not giving controlled circles over it anymore, merely aimless swipes.

she reaches her climax so suddenly that neither see it coming, but her soft moans into his ear and the fluttering of her wet pussy and the wet noises it makes when he plunges into her is just enough for him to be spilling his release into the condom.

he rides her through her orgasm for the second time, milking her for everything she’s worth and finishes his peak with a shaky moan low in her ear.

he pulls out and collapses beside her, careful not to crush her under the weight of himself.

“fuck,” is all she says and it earns a laugh from beside her.

“go out with me.” he blurts it out so sudden she almost doesn’t understand his words.

“what?”

“again, i mean. we’ve been on a few dates, i know. what i’m trying to say is that i like you. a lot. and i’m going to take a leap of faith to say that you like me to. so let’s be official. please?” he sounds so small when he speaks the last word of his confession, it nearly breaks her heart.

“of course, baby. i’d love to,” she rolls over to cuddle into his chest, and he gladly accepts the act of affection.

“so can i call you my girlfriend?” he feels like a giddy teenager but that’s just the effect she has on him.

“yup. we can be all gross in public and stuff, too, if you want.”

“i think i do.”

“i think i do too.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @indierockgirrl @milkluvr8 @americanangel

[krazyyyyyy]

A True Friend Hyugo x Reader

While skipping class, a certain someone joins you

Words: 819

You rested your back against the trunk of an oak tree, your eyes tiredly reading the text of a novel your English professor had recently assigned to you, given your continuous procrastination throughout the week and your avoidance of reading the book. The paper you were supposed to write about the book was due tomorrow morning, and you hadn’t even started it or finished the book itself. That’s how you ended up out here, skipping class in the open fields behind your school, attempting to finish the book before the school day ended. You’d probably have to pull an all-nighter to write the paper, but that was a problem for later on.

You felt at ease where you sat, the soft bark of the oak tree against your back, the cool shade providing a respite from the sun's heat. While a subtle breeze, carrying the scent of grass and earth flowed freely around you. The chirping of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind were the only sounds you heard as you continued reading.

As you focused on the book, a faint sound caught your attention. It was the sound of soft, barely audible footsteps as they drew closer to you.

Suddenly, a cheerful voice rang out from right next to you.

“Whatcha reading?”

A smile appears on your face at the familiar voice of your friend, Hyugo. “Jane Eyre. I guess it’s about an orphan girl struggling in life. It’s actually not that bad.” You reply without looking away from your book.

He smiled as he curiously looked over your shoulder to examine the book's contents. 

He then laughed “Since when do you skip class to read?”

You let out a sigh. “Since today… I have to finish this book and then write a paper about it, all by tomorrow morning, or else I can kiss my A in English goodbye.” You glance at the boy curiously, “What are you doing out here anyway, Hyugo?”

Hyugo kept his usual smile as he sat on the grass next to you, leaning back onto the tree with his hands resting behind his head. “I didn’t feel like going to my history class. It’s so boring (Y/N)!” He pouts.

You laugh, shaking your head in amusement, “You never feel like going to class. How in the world are you still in the student council?”

He shrugs, smiling, “I guess I'm just that amazing.” You suppose he wasn't totally wrong, but you wouldn’t tell him that; Hyugo always managed to be at the top of the class, regardless of whether he showed up to class or not. Knowing his secretive nature, you’d probably never figure out how he does it.

 You roll your eyes, turning your attention back to your book. The two of you sit in comfortable silence—that is, until Hyugo decides to speak again a couple of moments later.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“You think you’ll ever make it to the Higher Class?”

Instantly, the book before you didn’t seem as interesting anymore. Everyone at your school dreamed of being a part of the Higher Class, but only very few actually succeeded in making it in. Even if you’re born rich, it's not always guaranteed you’ll make it, especially when everyone makes mistakes…

You close the book, setting it down beside you. “I hope so. It would take a huge burden off my family’s shoulders…I don’t think I can afford to fail.” You let your head fall against the tree in exasperation, looking to the sky in an attempt to ignore the aching in your chest. Knowing you were your family's last hope broke you in ways you never thought possible.

A sudden weight and softness on your shoulder snap you out of your daze. You look over to see Hyugo resting his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed. “(Y/N), If you ever need anything…and I mean anything, let me know. I’ll be there…Always.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Thank you, Hyugo,” You whisper, keeping your emotions in check. “But I have to do this myself.” You had to endure this burden alone, regardless of the support you were offered. You made a promise to your father, and you intended to keep it.

Hyugo sighs. “I know, but it’s good to remember that there are people who…” He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “... really care about you.”

You smile, resting your head on his. “You worry too much.”. 

He chuckles. “If I don’t, who will?” He then yawns, nestling his head comfortably on your shoulder. It doesn’t take long before he’s fast asleep and quietly snoring.

Although tempted to finish your book, you can’t help but give in to the temptation of sleep as your eyes grow weary. Nuzzling into the softness of Hyugo’s hair, you fall asleep without a single worry on your mind for the first time in a long time.

[ovaryacted]

This is gonna be a longish analysis post but just walk with me for a bit. I don’t even know where I’m going with this, but I’m going to talk about Leon’s humanity and how important it is to his character.

-

The topic of goodness, morality, and humanity when it comes to a zombie apocalypse is something I always find interesting. It’s huge when it comes to depicting what is defined as “good” in a universe where the living are amongst the dead and they are left to survive by any means necessary.

I’m currently rewatching The Walking Dead from the beginning, and I want to focus on Rick Grimes and use him as an example. When we first meet Rick, he’s a sheriff, a good man with a wife and a child (Carl) that he loves dearly. He has community, he has a life, and all of that gets taken away from him when he wakes up in a hospital alone in the middle of an apocalypse. Early on in the show, the first 2 seasons really, Rick is depicted as a man with a big moral compass, he does right by people, he protects who he loves and tries to save whoever he can.

Towards the end of S2 into S3 and beyond, Rick beings to change after he starts killing humans who pose a threat to his livelihood on top of killing the walkers (zombies) as a means of survival. He begins to lose himself the more he kills and the more losses he experiences, because he carries the burden of being the leader and has to protect what he currently has. Killing becomes second nature to him, and he’ll do it without hesitation because he has to.

Within every zombie or monster apocalypse franchise, like TWD, The Last of Us, and Resident Evil included, you quickly learn that zombies aren’t the only things you have to be scared of, but the people that are also surviving alongside you who become corrupt and are a threat to you.

Throughout TWD as the story progresses, Rick faces challenges with other leaders like The Governor and Negan who are seen as a modern depiction of “tyrannical dictators”. These people constantly fighting with Rick in particular, are intended to make the viewers question who is good, and who is evil, because all of these leaders in comparison to Rick are seen as “bad people”. Yet, when Rick goes batshit crazy in S5 and does the things he criticized his late best friend Shane of doing (before he kills him), you start to wonder whether or not Rick is still considered a “good man” or has any humanity left in him.

Why am I talking about this you ask? Well, it’s because the same questions you get when thinking about morally grey characters like Rick Grimes from TWD, it can be applied to perceiving Leon Kennedy’s character from RE. Rick has been through hell and had to do what he could to survive and protect those that he cared for, the same way Leon wanted to do from the beginning except of course it’s a bit different in his particular case.

When we first meet Leon Kennedy as a character, he’s a bright eyed rookie at the age of 21. He’s practically a baby with no proper life experience, and he carries a sense of innocence that he doesn’t really understand until he finds himself smack in the middle of a zombie apocalypse of his own. After experiencing Raccoon City and barely surviving, he gets blackmailed into military service and has to work alongside the corrupt government for years fighting against what essentially ruined his life. He was never meant to be a soldier, or a government lap dog, he was told that from the start of his military career. But he was essentially groomed and molded out to become one by force, and that would make anybody turn cold.

Leon at his core, is someone who is so selfless and heroic that it’s tragic to see how he’s changed as he gets older, of course none of it being his fault. His entire perception of the world gets flipped upside down, and he no longer believes that there is “good” in the world, that there is no justice and the reason why he joined the police force (to protect people) is a fallacy. He’s a good guy that gets thrown into the worst possible situation, and he grows numb and detached from reality because he doesn’t see a point in continuing to fight for a world that will destroy itself.

Despite his thoughts and his traumas, his humanity remains intact. Even when he’s been on so many missions knocking on death’s door, he continues to fight. Of course, a big reason being because of Sherry and because he has nothing else, but at the same time it’s because he still maintains some sense of his moral code after everything happens. He easily could’ve become corrupt with his bitterness and anger towards the government after all the trauma he experienced. If he wanted to he could’ve become like Krauser, or Jason, or even Dylan; trying to gain some power because there is no justice or morality. He also could’ve just ended everything a long time ago if he really didn’t want to live anymore. But he doesn’t. He still helps people, he still wants to save them, and he lives by his own personal mantra: If you don't try to save one life, you'll never save any. (In Degeneration)

And we see that in practice multiple times throughout the times we get to see Leon:

RE2 w/Sherry and Claire, and also trying to save Ada and Marvin

RE4 with Ashley (Luis is questionable but both his death and Krauser’s impacted Leon too)

Infinite Darkness with his team, Claire, and seen in how he treats Patrick

Damnation with how he tells Buddy that he shouldn’t kill himself because he owes it to the people who died to stay alive (kind of questionable cause the delivery was wrong but yeah)

RE6 in general trying to save everyone against Simmons

Vendetta helping Chris to fight against Arias despite being drunk and suicidal

Death Island trying to take down Dylan with everyone else

Leon’s humanity is so fundamental to his character that it’s the one thing that really makes him stand out (of course the main character have their humanity but I’m focusing on Leon in particular). The fact that no matter what happens or what he says or what he’s been through, he still somehow carries the same thinking he had when he became a rookie cop in the first place, and honestly it’s admirable. It’s one of the things that really makes me love him as a character. He’s just a good man with a heart of gold in a shitty situation, even though he doesn’t he’s a good person, and somehow underneath all that trauma, a part of him he still cares enough to keep fighting.

[targaryensluttt]

muse on fire (chapter three)

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: light descriptions of dirty thoughts, this chapter is pretty mild. Gotta make you all wait so you want it reaaallll bad.

notes: WE LOVE HELAENA

word count: 2,334

chapter two

chapter one

chapter four

I'm starting on chapter four today, was going to make this longer but it seemed like a good stopping point? Hopefully will have it up before Monday!!

Drifting back into consciousness, you found yourself surrounded by warmth and fluffy blankets. The morning light was peeking through the deep velvet viridian curtains, and shining through your eyelids, making you see all pink. Sitting up, you made sure to thoroughly stretch your body, and sighed contently, until you suddenly realized where you still were. At this, your eyelids flew open, and you clapped your hand to your mouth in surprise. Aemond’s chambers. 

You also registered that you were alone. A dark feeling of dread and embarrassment began to creep over you, working its way to your insides, until you looked over to the left of the spacious bed, to see a letter with your name on it. After you fell asleep, he must have carried you here and wrapped you in warmth, making sure you were content and comfortable. Still, you hesitated when you reached for the piece of folded parchment. What if he didn’t want to see you any longer? What if he was so horrified by the turn of events last night, he couldn’t bear to even look upon your face to admit it to you? In spite of your dark thoughts, you knew your Aemond (yours?) was no coward, so fingers trembling, you unfolded it, swallowed hard and read:

Y/N, 

I was awoken early with a request from my mother. I was told it was urgent, and I have to leave immediately to meet with her. There is nothing more I wish for than to see your pretty face awaken to the dawn. I hope there will be many more opportunities for this in the future.

                     Aōhon,

                   Aemond

P.S.

kindly leave your panties 

As you were reading, your frown turned into a wide-toothed smile. Aōhon, he had said. That meant yours. The breath that you held out of nervousness was released. Laying back, you stretched once again, and shimmed off your underwear, giggling. You neatly folded them and tucked them under his pillow. They were not your best or most becoming pair, but they were soft and had a pretty embroidered flower pattern. 

Despite the fact that there was nothing you would want to do more than laze around in Aemond’s bed all day, out of curiosity, you rose. This was not your first time here, having lived in the castle since you were but a toddler, but this was one of your more extended stays in his room.  Lining the walls closest to his fireplace were ceiling to floor bookshelves, each equipped with their own rolling ladders. Volumes of all sizes filled them, and you had no doubt your blonde bookworm had read most, if not all. His desk was huge, and filled with stacks of papers. Since such a young age, he had taken as many burdens of the realm on his shoulders that his mother would allow, and even some she would not. The large windows currently covered by the curtains were cracked open, so you could feel a cool morning breeze, and hear the birds chirping in the yard. Looking to your left, the entire wall was bare stone, save for two sconces a light with torches that looked like they were about to burn out. The empty space contrasted against the floor, which had a few ornate rugs scattered about. 

Estimating the time, you became worried again. The later in the morn it got, the buisier the halls. The harder it would make to go unnoticed to go back to where you were expected to be. Although this was the inner castle and random nobles would not be roaming these halls, servants would soon be bustling about cleaning, bringing the royal family breakfast, replacing the candles and wood for the evening, and the like. Reluctantly, you rose. His bed was so large, you had to scoot down it on your bottom, and climb over the mahogany wooden trunk at the end. Reaching for the doorknob, you turned back and smiled, eager to memorize the space in your mind. You so hoped this would not be your last overnight visit to his room. 

Cracking the large door open, you peeked out, and looked left- nothing. And right-still nothing. The coast was indeed clear. Your room was just one hallway down, so thankfully, you only had to peek around corners once and avoid two maids before making your way there. 

Your quarters were more than comfortable. Two windows opened over a spacious stone nook you had lined with cushions and other soft things to create a little reading/sketching area. You had thick, dark blue Persian rugs lining the cold castle floor. Your bed was a four post with matching blue curtains that were currently neatly tied back with thick velvet black bows. Easels surrounded the fireplace area, as you had been working during the cold night before you fell asleep to that wretched dream. You were not royal, but orphaned from a high born northern family and taken in as a ward of Viserys as a young girl. You carried the trauma of your past every day, but so did you carry the strength of your blood in the North. 

Having the morning for yourself, you decided to call for a tub so you could bathe, and also politely requested your favorite scented oils and bubbles. You almost thought twice about bathing, unwilling to wash the Prince’s scent off your body and his desire off of your inner things, but you brushed the silly thought aside, wanting to present yourself to the day proudly and at your best. While you went to take the nightgown off, your hand brushed your neck and you were reminded of the mark Aemond had sucked into your skin, and grew weak at the knees. Expiremently, you pressed in it, and felt the throb of pain that also accompanied the wetness growing between your thighs. Taking a deep breath, you collected yourself, made a mental note to call for some extra powder to cover it from unwanted eyes, and had your bath. 

Halfway through brushing your thick, auburn mane, a maid servant entered your room, accompanied by a small silver tray with a cream colored envelope on top. Smiling, you recognized Helaena’s seal. Opening the envelope, you read-

Dearest Y/N,

Please accompany me for an afternoon trip to the dress shop to pick out fabrics to wear for the portrait for me and the twins? I need your opinion!

See you soon,

Helaena

The Princess could have had any number of fabrics and modiestes to dress her delivered just by a lift of her finger. But you knew it had been a while since she had left the castle grounds, her new motherly instinct to fuss over her darling babies dominating over her desire to get away. Excited she was finally allowing herself some time to breathe, you sent your reply, let her know you would meet her in the front of the castle by the carriages, and finished styling your hair into one long, thick loose braid with wavy hair  coiled to frame the side of your face, and positioned it to cover the slight discoloration that still remained on your neck after you caked on a thick layer of powder. 

Making your way down to the main hall to enter the front courtyard, you encountered the King and Queen making their way to the dining hall, Viserys with his cane and Alicent with Her arm under his free shoulder, helping him down. 

You stepped to the side to allow them room, and bowed your head slightly. 

“Your Graces. I hope you are enjoying this fine morning.”

The King was kind, if not strong of will. He smiled at you weakly, and the Queen slowed down and responded for them both.

“Thank you Lady Y/N, I understand you are accompanying my daughter to the modieste this afternoon, she is overjoyed.”

“Yes, my Queen. An enjoyable afternoon to be had, for sure.” you responded as they passed.

It was hard for you to get a read on Queen Alicent. You suspected she held her true feelings close, revealing them only when either safe or advantageous for her. Despite leaving your guard up around her, you felt for her. She had been selected by the King to wed and bear more heirs for him at a young age, younger than you were now, with only her snake of a father for support. She had to learn to survive. It was all she had been focused on doing for such a long time. With no real close family,having to navigate court on your own, you could relate. 

This was not to say you did not respect Princess Rhaenyra, and her rightful claim to the throne. Although you had no place to have an opinion, you considered the whole family feud silly. If she had been born with a cock between her legs, no one would EVER have dared question her position. You did not believe she was less worthy because she was a woman. Stronger and better suited than most men by default as a result of her sex, if anything. Knowing the Princess had exiled herself to Dragonstone, willingly, you wished things had turned out differently between her and the Queen. Alas, you knew life was never that easy and simple. 

As the knights stationed at the main door to the castle opened it, you stepped outside and inhaled deeply. The air was still crisp, but you felt the morning sun soak into your body, and you felt the morning was perfect for a carriage ride into town. 

Helaena was waiting in the carriage already. Looking out of its window, she saw you and smiled widely. Waving to her, you skipped to the carriage like a young girl, in the best mood, and so looking forward to your afternoon shopping with the Princess.

The ride into town was peaceful and short. Arriving at the shop, you were both seated comfortably by the owner, and had thick rolls of fabrics brought to you. 

Helaena had tasked you with designing the dress she was to wear, so you handed those over as well as a few designs you wanted to have made for yourself. 

Helaena settled on a nice gray with gold embroidery for her and her babies, and asked softly, 

“Do you think Aegon will think this becoming for us?” 

Smiling sadly, you lied, and said yes. She had picked a soft satin for her and Jaehaera, and a thick velvet texture with gold buttons for Jaehaerys. You knew in your heart that the wretched man could care less what his lovely wife and perfect children wore for their first family portrait. But Helaena deserved the world, and although you could not change her situation, you knew how important hope truly was for a person to hold on to. This is why you had no qualms about telling her white lies every now and then, as they would make her smile, even if she knew the truth deep in her heart. You tried to stay positive about the situation yourself, and reminded yourself that Aegon was still young and immature. 

Though Aemond was younger, you reminded yourself, and still surpassed his brother in maturity, physically, intellectually, and in every other way. You wished so much Aegon would take a leaf from his brothers page, and grow more appreciative of his sweet wife and the delicacies his status afforded him. Frustrated at her situation, you watched Helaena pick some additional soft pinks and gold, as she remarked on how the soft rose matched her new mantis. She was so gentle and wonderful, despite the blows life had landed her. 

Looking over the massive pile of spools of fine fabrics of all kinds the shop owner had reserved for the Princess and your selection, a few caught your eye as well. You chose some tuelles of blues, grays, sea foam,violet,and dusty rose. Satins and velvets of deep emerald with gold embroidery, and shades of black with different beautiful hand stitched patterns that adorned them. Just when you believed you were done, one particular spool caught your eye. An off white satin that almost glowed cream, overlaid with tulle of silver foil stars.

“Excuse me,” you said, rifling through the pile to pull it out, “add this one as well.” “Use it for the last sketch in the folio I gave you, please.”

 It would be perfect for the upcoming ball to celebrate the twins first name day. 

There were many traumas and struggles you had endured in your life, but money was never an issue. The only surviving babe of your line, you inherited all the riches your house had accumulated over time. Naturally, you liked to shop. It was a good distraction from reality, and you’d take any. 

“Y/N” Helaena said, interrupting your thought-

“Will you dine with us this evening?” She asked, grasping your hand that was laying in your lap, the one not pointing at the many spools of fabrics you wanted. 

The look in her eye worried you. She looked so lonely, you could not deny her if you wanted to. It was a familiar feeling, and it pained you that she felt the same.

Hugging her to your side, you responded truthfully, “Of course! Nothing would make me happier.” 

The carriage ride back was quiet, with you looking at the window and Helaena staring down, playing with her fingers. You had leaned your face against the window, and began to doze off, until you heard her whispering. 

“What was that, dear friend?” You asked her.

Looking at you with a wide, blank stare, she said this- 

“The moon will wed the second sunrise, and they will  be as one.” 

Even though you didn’t have an inkling of what she meant, you nodded your head kindly, and grabbed the hand she was using to pick at her fingers, holding it the rest of the way back to the castle. 

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[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 1: Secret New Beginnings

Masterlist ° Chapter List (Coming soon)

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Now that you and Michael are somewhat together, you have to navigate your relationship, but there is something hanging over you, untold secrets that keep you from fully trusting each other. But Michael finally feels safe around you and he cares, and you might just be falling for him, after all.

Warnings: Fluff, some angst, self-doubt, cussing, talk about sex and violence as well as murder

Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: SO I finally got the first chapter done, yay me! I struggled a little with the transition from Butterfly Effect to this, but I hope you like it anyway. See it as a kind of prologue to set the scene. It's my starting point for this series. I will be posting a list of Installments soon, I just need to make it look nice.

The butterfly effect is often used in context with chaos theory, but they don’t equal each other. The notion is that a seemingly insignificant event, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, could set in motion a chain of events with far-reaching and unpredictable consequences. 

In the aftermath of a shattered soul, Michael finds himself standing on the precipice that could perhaps lead to a new beginning. No, he is sure that the second chance he was given already set the new beginning in motion, and he owes that to you.

His past, as so often, blurs with his present. It’s tumultuous and it echoes deafeningly loud in his mind, but he can’t help but ponder the path of destiny that led him straight into the arms of a woman that has been looking the darkness inside of him straight into its poisonous eyes from the beginning, not once turning away. 

His past decision had wings that flapped ever so slightly and caused the world around him to collapse. People got hurt. He, himself, got hurt in the process. In the blink of an eye, his life changed. He saw it coming, deep down. He’s been a Kinsella from the beginning and he knew that getting close to him would eventually lead to destruction for every kind soul that decided to have mercy on him. But he was naive, he became careless, he did his work and thought that was enough to keep his loved ones safe – he failed, and then, when he tried to get back up, he failed again and he paid the ultimate price. 

But he has tasted the light. He caught a peak of what his life could look like, and for the first time in a long time, he feels the seeds of hope grow into a field of beautiful flowers in his chest. The sun came, shone its light into his life, and the rain met its rays just right to lay the foundation for a rainbow. 

Michael wouldn’t consider himself happy, but he saw what could be and he thought to himself, “I have to at least try.” So that is what he promises himself to do, every day, as long as it takes for his life to find the right path again. He doesn’t know if there even is happiness in the cards for him, but he can try to fix what he broke, and he finally doesn’t feel alone in it anymore. 

Chaos isn’t limited to the realms of science – it is an undeniable force that ripples through everyone’s existence. And for Michael, the bullet holes in his house and the gaping black void in his chest function as a stark reminder of the chaos that rippled through his existence eight years ago. 

Each decision he makes can change the course of his life and those around him inevitably forever, and that is a huge burden to carry. Once you realize the effect even the smallest events can have, there is no turning back. Anxiety grows fast, faster than poison ivy, and it threatens to consume you whole. 

You – you and him – made a silent promise to take the wheel before it would be too late, take the pen, rewrite your story, and find a way to make a happy ending happen for both of you. You are the one who convinced him to have a little faith, and you taught him that trying to be optimistic might just make life a little easier to deal with. 

Michael doesn’t deserve you and yet, he has you.

 The day he walked into the café looking for something familiar was the best day of his life, even though it was littered with gray clouds. Meeting you changed everything, and all it took was your conviction to sell him a cup of coffee that wouldn’t taste as simple as a double espresso and a gentle smile, and he was hooked. 

The Butterfly Effect brought you together; it has a double meaning. For one, you work at a café with the same name as one of the effects that are born from chaos theory, and two, the day he met you, he is convinced your decision to write that note on his coffee cup was you flapping your wings and setting everything into motion – and now he’s lying in your bed with you by his side, the sun streaming in through the slit in the curtains, and he can’t believe his eyes as he gazes upon you.

Your features are peaceful. You are peaceful. You are his safe haven. He didn’t expect himself to get infatuated with another person so soon after escaping literal hell, but there is something so sweet and innocent about you, so normal, so serene, he couldn’t help himself. It’s what he craved without even knowing, and maybe it’s selfish to ignore the danger just for a little while, but he couldn’t hold back any longer – he needed you and now he has you. If it were that simple, he could rest, but deep down he knows that this is only the beginning, and not all new beginnings are always good. Some beginnings start perfectly fine and then they drop and lose themselves in darkness, and in the process, you fall with them. Deep down he knows that nothing is ever as it seems, not with the life he lives, his history, his past, and his family. 

As he looks at your sleeping frame next to him, he wonders if you have secrets of your own. Well, maybe you have; it would be only human of you to do so. But then he thinks about your tendency to say yes to everything, to forgive and to give back so easily, always ready to please people, always on top of your game, and he begins to worry if there is a darkness in you he hasn’t quite caught yet. He realizes your story isn’t as clear as his. You only told him about your parents briefly, but that’s it. He considers you a breath of fresh air, but behind every bright smile often lies a deeper meaning. 

Michael gets lost in thought, hoping no one seriously hurt you to make you the person you are now – you told him you fought hard to get where you are now, but what problems did you have to tackle in the past? He only then realizes that you are still a mystery to him. But he hasn’t told you everything either, so you both have parts of yourselves you are not ready to share yet, and perhaps that’s good the way it is.  

You stir. His hazel eyes are still glued to you. You look so lovely like this. His lip curls up into a tired smile as he watches you come to life, your fists coming up to your eyes to rub them. You stretch, causing the covers to slip from your body just enough to catch a glimpse of the top of your breasts. You’re an ephemeral creature and he can’t believe he’s allowed to call you his now. 

His lips press to your cheek. Your eyes are still not open, but you smile a little at the gesture. Slowly but steadily, his lips move lower. This is the second night he has stayed with you now, and he is addicted to you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips when he reaches your neck. His hand cups your jaw, the other keeping himself up as he comes closer. His beard tickles, scratching at your sensitive neck as he nips and kisses you everywhere he can reach, but his touch is gentle as if you’re glass in his eyes. His lips suction around your pulse point then, marking you to be his. The blood pools under the skin and it is quick to turn purple. He licks over it with a smirk; it isn’t the first and won’t be the last mark he will leave on your perfect skin that is softer than any silk he has felt before. 

You wrap a sleepy arm around his shoulders. “Mhmm,” you mumble, a subtle sign that you’ve awoken from your slumber. 

He smiles into your neck, giving the hickey another peck before lifting his head to look at you. “Mornin’,” he says. 

You open an eye. “Morning,” you say. 

He brushes a strand of hair out of your face before planting his lips on yours. 

“How long were you staring at me for?”

“A while.”

“Why?”

“Yer just too gorgeous, pet.” His accent is thicker in the early hours of the morning, you’ve noted. “Besides, you look so peaceful when yer sleepin’. Makes me want ta squish your pretty face.” 

A giggle slips past your lips. “That’s a bit extensive, don’t you think?” you tease. 

He shakes his head. “Never.”

You open your eyes fully now and turn your body in his direction. “I could get used to this,” the admission comes in a quiet puff of air.

He tangles his fingers in your hair and only hums in response. He could get used to waking up next to you as well, but words fail him. You look like an Angel in the soft sunlight. He swears he can see a halo above your head, that’s how divine you are. 

“What’s on your mind?” you ask him. 

He blinks out of his daze and meets your eyes. “Nothin’ important,” he says. 

“All of your thoughts are important to me.”

“Not those.”

You furrow your eyebrows, but you leave it be. Forcing him to talk is not something you want to start or you could ruin the trust that persists between you. He will hopefully come to you when he feels ready to talk, or if that ever happens.  

With a peek at the clock, you notice that your alarm is about to ring. With a heavy sigh, you entangle yourself from him and sit up. 

Michael pouts when your warmth leaves him, his fingers slipping from your hair and down your bare back. He brushes the skin there, tracing your moles and stroking down your spine. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you pause your movements, reveling in the feeling of his calloused fingers painting gentle shapes over your heated skin. 

“I have to get ready soon,” you say. It’s torture, almost, to have to leave him like this. 

Michael in your bed, shirtless and with his brown locks standing in all directions is a sight to uphold. You want to capture this moment, brand it into your brain and never erase it again. You want his perfect lips to be etched into your skin, his fingers tattooed, his voice injected into your bloodstream – you’re not sure where this desire comes from, this need to be close to him at all times, you are just getting to know each other, but he makes it impossible to think straight. You get lost in his eyes, his soul, and the desperate need to protect him fills you up like an empty cup until it’s overflowing. 

He’s not trying to sleep with you, you know that, he’s simply trying to keep you close a little while longer. He doesn’t want to face the day. He doesn’t want to be without you. You haven’t talked about how to navigate this, you just thought you would figure it out as you go, but there is sadness in his eyes when you look at him. 

There is a beat of silence before he speaks, and his words deliver cracks to your heart. “I don’t want to go home,” he says, and his voice borders heavily on a breathless whisper. 

You pick your shirt off the floor, slip it on, then turn around to face him. “I know,” you say just as quietly. “I would offer you to stay, but–“

“We haven’t reached tha’ level of trust yet? 

Your silence serves as an answer to his question. Michael nods, understanding where you’re coming from, but part of him is still hurt. You trust him to a certain extent, but he has a dark past and there are things not yet resolved between you, things unsaid that haven’t been addressed, and until you’ve figured that out, you have to take baby steps in the direction you want the both of you to go. 

“It’s okay,” he assures you when he sees the pained expression of guilt and regret flash across your face. “I have ta talk to my brother, to Amanda, about my job. I– I have ta think about Anna. Talk to my solicitor. I couldn’t stay even if I wanted.”

Part of that is a lie; he can easily talk to his attorney over the phone and he doesn’t feel like Amanda or Jimmy deserve even a tad bit of his attention, but he has responsibilities and he can’t ignore them forever. Besides, he has no money left and he has to find a way to get through that, too. Those are the things he can’t tell you because he feels so stupid like he would be a bad influence on you, and they are treacherous thoughts. 

You take a deep breath. “Let’s go through your application tonight,” you offer, picking up on your idea from the day before.

The Butterfly Effect is understaffed to the point you sometimes have to work seven times a week instead of getting your day off like you did yesterday, but that’s not the only reason you suggested offering him a job. You told him that your boss gives everyone a second chance if they need one, especially those fresh out of prison who have nowhere to go because even the most minuscule changes can change the course of what happens next, of what happens in the future. It’s not just the name of the café, it is a metaphor, and everyone you work with is so vulnerable and human, you know Michael would feel a lot more comfortable there than having his family breathing down his neck all the time.

He didn’t tell you much, but you already don’t like them. 

Michael thinks about your words, his chest heaving with a heavy sigh. He looks at the ceiling, his hand, then back at you. He nods. “Okay,” he says. “Yeah.”

“Hey–“ you lean over to press a kiss to his lips. “I care about you, you know that?” 

His hand finds its way to the small of your back, eyes fluttering close as you come closer. “Mhm.” He leans in for another kiss. He knows you care. He can feel it in his bones. You care with utmost devotion, and he doesn’t understand what he did to deserve you. 

“I’ll get you that job, and then I’ll help you get your daughter back. I don’t know her, but you sound like you love her and she should get the chance to reconnect with you. You’re not alone anymore, Mikey. You have me now, and I’m with you, every step of the way. I choose you.” 

God knows your father failed with his duties to actually be one. In Michael’s case, it wasn’t voluntary that he left for so long and he deserves a second chance as much as Anna deserves a father. 

“I choose you too,” he whispers. “And I can’t thank you enough…”

“Lucky for you that you don’t have to thank me. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” – you kiss him again before getting up – “I promise.” You flash him a smile as you make your way out of the bedroom, leaving him behind. 

His hand drops to the mattress in defeat. He wants to spend forever in bed with you, wrapped in your cocoon, but he knows that’s not possible. So he lets you go. 

You wouldn’t go as far as to say you’re in love, not yet, but you’re getting damn close to falling for him. It’s as terrifying as it is exciting, and maybe it’s a little nerve-wracking, too. You’ve never been truly in love, you never learned how to love, and yet Michael pushes you a little closer to the edge every day. You just have to make sure you’re attached to a parachute in case you plummet to your demise. In that case, there’s not much that can help you anymore, and you’re not sure if you’d survive it, either. But probably – highly likely – not. 

You put his dirty clothes in the washer the day before and then hung them out to dry. You spent most of your day in your underwear with him, anyway. But now it’s time to leave and he has to get dressed into something. You don’t want to sound possessive, but this is a sight you want to reserve only for yourself.

You’re doing your makeup when he comes in to brush his teeth. You step aside to make some room for him in your small bathroom that’s meant for one person only, but you make it fit. He stands behind you, watching you through the mirror. You can tell he’s avoiding himself and only staring at you, and you can weirdly relate to that. Some days, or most days, actually, you can’t stand your reflection either. There was a time when it was exceptionally bad, but you don’t want to go into that. Your mind has been reeling enough, and it’s only morning. 

The conversation and the revelations about Michael have lit something inside of you, a candle you had long believed to have gone out, and that candle sparked a wave of nostalgia that you can’t shake now. You are eerily similar when it comes to personality, except you have learned how to handle your burdens, and he hasn’t even begun. Still, there is a part of you that is and will always somehow remain stuck in the past. But you’re not ready to share that with him yet. You doubt you could share it with anyone but the demons in your head, which are luckily still sleeping and haven’t planned to attack and tear you down just yet. 

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” he breaks the silence and the thread of your thoughts. 

You look at him. “Just some things,” you say. 

“Anything you might want ta talk about?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I’m okay.”

“Okay.” He leaves it at that, although his hand lands on your waist almost protectively. 

Michael walks you to work. You insist he doesn’t have to, but he does so anyway. Taking his hand, he stiffens for a moment and you fear he might pull away, that this is too much for him, but then he squeezes your hand back and you realize he doesn’t mind. 

You walk to the café in silence. The birds chirp in the trees around you. A soft breeze moves through the streets of Dublin. The sun is out, which is nice, and the temperatures are a little more bearable today. You watch as the leaf shakes in sync with the wind and the oxygen you breathe tastes clean. 

“You can come in if you want,” you say when you reach it, “I can make you a nice Americano, maybe? Or I could introduce you to the world of caramel Frappucinos...”

Michael’s heart swells, but he shakes his head with a soft smile. “I’m good,” he says. “Thanks though.”

“You sure?” You step closer to cradle his cheek. “You look a little tired, darling. A good caramel Frappucino with extra strong espresso might help you come back to life.” You’re only half-joking.

He chuckles. “I’m gonna be okay, ya said that yerself. Don’t worry, love, I’ll survive without coffee.”

You purse your lips; it’s cute, the way you pout and expect him to change his mind. You don’t want him to leave, he suspects. 

Now that you crossed all boundaries, had sex, and qualify as a couple now, there is nothing more you want than keep your routine. You have gotten used to turning his head with your coffee skills, and he seemed to always enjoy them. But things are different now, there is no denying the obvious. Things won’t go back to the way they were because your dynamic has changed. 

“Okay,” you cave, “Well, call me if anything’s wrong or if you need me.”

“Yer at work, I wouldn’t want ta disturb you.”

“Just do it,” you give him a stern look, “and I’ll text when I’m off so you can come over and we can work on making sure your application fits our requirements.”

“I doubt tha’,” he says, “but I love how much you want ta try.” His smile is genuine, but somehow, his words remind you of what he said only a few days ago.

People would like you more if ya wouldn’t try so hard. 

You swallow. He notices. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“No, it’s okay,” you say. 

People pleaser, a voice calls in your head. You can’t even admit that his kind words today hurt you almost the same as his cruel words did. 

“Hey–” he pulls you closer by the waist. “When I said tha’, I didn’t mean it.” 

Your forehead leans against his almost naturally and you breathe the same air as him. You can feel his heartbeat under where your hand touches his chest, searching for silent support, and his hands cradling your face offers more than that. He’s genuinely sorry. He didn’t mean it. If he had, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand with him here now. He opened old wounds, and he apologized. They’re not fully healed, not fully stitched up, but you can accept that. 

“Your kind heart is special, and I hold it very dear to me,” Michael says. 

You nod. You’re not a lie detector, but you can see in his eyes that he’s determined to mend what he did, especially now that he sees what an effect it had on you, and how much it still affects you. His words cut deeper than a knife ever could. 

“Okay, thank you,” you say softly. “I needed that.”

He kisses your forehead. “Have a good day at work, pet.”

You never thought you would say it, but you love it when he calls you that. It’s intimate, much more than ‘love’ could ever be. 

“And you take care of yourself,” you shoot back at him. 

He smiles, planting another loving kiss on your lips. They move softly against yours, savoring every last second you get with each other. And then, with one last glimpse at your watch, your break free. 

“I’ll see you tonight, Mikey.”

“Yeah,” he says your name, “See ya tonight.”

He’s about to say ‘Love ya’, but he quickly realizes that it’s too soon and you’re not even sure he means it yet. His definition of love got a little confusing over time. After losing Allison, he’s never paid another thought about falling in love again, and he still feels so hollow inside, he’s not sure if he’s even capable of feeling like that again. But he likes you and he cares and he wants to be with you – he wants to see where it goes, and if he ends up feeling the same spark again that he did when he first met his wife, he won’t hesitate to claim you forever. 

It’s a surprising thought, but he accepts it. 

You can’t help the smile on your lips as you enter the café. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine again. Though when you look up and see Sarah behind the counter, her face pale and bewildered as she stares outside at Michael, your smile fades. 

“Damn it,” you curse under your breath. 

You forgot she was working with you today, and you told her about what you found out, so she knows what he did. She doesn’t know the truth behind his story though, which means she thinks he’s some kind of psychopath and would tell you over and over again to stay away from him, and she just saw you kissing the man you both cursed to hell the night you told her about it. 

She’s your friend and she cares, and you probably fucked up now. You and Michael, whatever it is between you, is fresh and you wanted to keep it a secret until you could be sure it wouldn’t be met with too much judgment. That’s too late now, the cat is out of the bag. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Sarah hisses as soon as you’re behind the counter. 

“Sarah–” you begin, but she cuts you off again. 

“Did ya just– why did you kiss the same guy ya told me was a cold-blooded murderer who just got out of prison?!”

“I can explain.”

“Yer insane, that’s the explanation!”

“Would you quiet down?” You look around yourself. The café is crowded with people. 

You take a deep breath, trying to stay as calm as possible as so not to disturb anyone. They don't need to hear about your love life or your bad decisions or how Sarah is out for blood because her eyes darken and you could swear she's ready to tear Michael's head off if he ever comes near the café again. "I understand that you're worried, but you need to trust my judgment on this one," you say. "I can't tell you everything because this is his story to tell, not mine, but he came to my apartment and he needed someone and we talked, and... I've spent time with Michael, and I've seen a different side of him. He's working on changing his life, and he deserves a chance."

She shakes her head, the disbelief evident in her eyes. She is fuming inside, you can tell. If you were alone, she would give you a full run-down and leave you as shocked as you are whenever your boss does the same, and it scares you a little. You know it's tough love, but the way she's talking about him doesn't sit right with you. "I can't wrap me fuckin' head around it, especially after everythin' ya told me about his past. Killing his wife, leaving a daughter behind, eight years in prison... I mean honestly," she says your name, "What is fucking wrong with you? It's like you're willingly walking into a dangerous situation, ready to risk your life for a guy ya barely know. And I don't doubt that the two of you fucked, didn't ya?"

"Sarah, be quiet," you growl. You don't often get angry and you hate confrontation, but this is Michael she's talking about. "If you're gonna slut shame me, at least do it in private."

But she shakes her head, a little bit of guilt coming through. "I didn't mean it like tha', I meant your general tendency to fuck with the wrong guys."

You raise your voice slightly, "It's not like that, Sarah! People can change. I believe in redemption, in giving second chances. And I'm willing to see past his mistakes. If you knew his story... you would think the same because Michael... he is not heartless, okay? He is compassionate and loving and he's been through a lot of shit in the past and he just needs someone. He needs me and he cares just as much as I do. He pushed me away because of his family, to protect me, but I chose to stay. It's not his fault. I accept him, I choose him and I stand by that."

With a groan, he lifts a red towel from the counter. "What color is this?" she asks abruptly.

Confused by the sudden question, you reply, "Red, obviously. But what does that have to do with anything?"

Sarah's voice grows sharper if that is even possible. "Oh, so ya do see colors. Good. Because this is a red towel, and tha' bastard, he's a walkin' red flag. Can't you see that?"

"Don't talk about him like he's evil."

"Oh, I will and I fuckin' am 'cause you can't see clearly fer the life of ya."

You purse your lips. “I can see that you're concerned, Sarah," you say, "but you're also letting your judgment cloud your understanding. Michael's trying to make amends. He's not the same person he was before."

"Yer risking so much for someone who may not even deserve it. Is that what you want? To be with a man with a questionable past, a man who could potentially hurt ya? Are you sexually attracted to danger or somethin'?"

Maybe you are just a little, but that doesn't matter now. Michael is different. Every last bit of doubt you had about your relationship evaporates. 

Hurt and anger blend. "You don't understand. I thought as my friend, you would support me no matter what, but instead, you're just tearing me down because you’re not okay with my decision. Mine. It is my life, Sarah! Michael deserves a chance to prove himself, just like anyone else."

"I care about you," – her expression softens – "and it scares me to see ya making choices that might put you in harm's way. I don't want to lose ya."

"I need you to trust me on this."

Sarah sighs. "Promise me that if you smell even the slightest whiff of danger, ya'll walk away?" she says.

You reach out and grasp her hand. "I promise,” you say. 

But you know that this is far from over.

Unbeknownst to you, her words planted a little seed of an entirely different kind of doubt in the garden of your soul, and it would soon have every right to grow, but not into a flower this time; this seed of doubt has the potential to turn into a terrifyingly large tree, and its roots are going to be the death of you. 

Maybe even quite literally. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @shouldbestudying41 @your-not-invisible-to-me @glowstick-lesbian @ms-murdockswift @acharliecoxedfan @loveroftoomanyfandoms

[class1akids]

As someone who had dropped the manga way back but still know generally what’s happened, why do you hate the “Dark Deku arc” (besides that stupid name)

I think the basic idea - letting Deku react to the war by ditching everyone and break himself to become All Might 2.0 - was a fine one.

Deku's biggest flaw is his self-sacrificing, self-destructive, martyristic tendencies and his saviour syndrome, which is ironically both extreme self-lessness (as in not care about himself) and extreme selfishness (as in not caring about the feeling of others who do care about him). Letting this flaw play out until it leads to an epic downfall that the MC has to suffer so he can rise again is the bread and butter of hero stories.

But the problem was with the execution, and notably Horikoshi's biggest flaw as a writer - he's so scared of making Deku unlikable that every single time he pulls his punches, which in turn stunts Deku's character development. To me, this is the biggest problem of the arc - Deku's fall is so ambiguous that half the fandom is convinced that he could have gotten himself out just fine from the predicament he was in, and then "soloed" all of Class A if he made any effort. This ambiguity shows that it wasn't a real downfall.

Another grave looming consequence of Deku's choices was the heart-breaking scene of him ditching All Might. Both Deku and All Might were meant to learn from this arc that the Symbol of Peace was a flawed concept, that it is insane to place the burden of a nation's security on a single person, no matter how powerful or driven. But despite building a perfect scene, Hori did nothing with it. Neither Deku, nor All Might ever fully confront the reality - they just reconcile, like nothing happened, Stain tells All Might that the Symbol was the right thing and it feels like there is nothing learnt.

Dark Deku that was meant to be a tragic, sad figure of a child driven to the breaking point by the burden he's carrying as a legacy and the pressure both external and self-imposed to step into a role he cannot be and shouldn't ever have to be ready for, becomes nothing but an empty "dark aesthetic" to please Deku-stans who wanted him to be "cool" and "strong" and "edgy".

When half the fandom doesn't realize that Dark Deku is a point in the narrative where Deku is ironically the weakest in heroic spirit - he's driven by fear, by a selfish obsession to do it all alone, by wanting to deny others their ability to step up as heroes because they are not strong enough, when he's slowly becoming everything he was the antithesis of at the beginning of the story and it still goes over the head of the audience, the point was not well-made.

There are a number of other problems with the arc:

Class A's aftermath gets skipped - we get zero emotional pay-off for big things that happened like Midnight's death, Aizawa losing an eye and leg, how the Dabi-reveal affects Shouto, how the class is impacted by the collapse of hero society, how the parents feel about their children being on the frontlines. Tons of issues the war raised and never delivered on.

Deku's power-ups come too quickly and feeling largely "unearned". It led to a huge power-creep where Deku is nothing than empty recipient of free candy. There is no hype of him reaching "faux-100%" because it doesn't feel like he made any effort to get there. There is no learning curve, everything he tries succeeds immediately. It's boring. It cheapens everyone else's hard-earned progress. It’s frustrating how little sense of accomplishment there is now in the final arc as Deku uses all his powers together in a big power-demonstration. It’s just not satisfying to watch at all. 

The HPSC plot that's been brewing in the background since the Licensing Arc fizzles into a non-sensical plot of a single assassin who takes out false heroes to uphold hero society. A person never referenced committing shady black-ops never alluded to, having no impact on the overall story. By Horikoshi's own admission, he basically ripped off the character and plot from an over-the-top assassin movie (Wanted) like the week before. Which really shows. This is one of my biggest disappointments of the arc. There was such a good build-up to exposing the rotten core of HPSC and it felt like it was set-up originally as a Hawks fall-from-grace-become-a-shadowy-operator kind of plot that would have given also Hawks a more satisfying post-war arc than "being optimistic to a fault". But I feel that just like with Deku, Horikoshi has the same issue with Hawks - being too afraid to make him unlikeable.

The Nagant-fight even as a fight is deeply unsatisfying and honestly feels like a Deku-circlejerk, where Nagant is beaten way too easily for all her hype, turned way too easily by the "irresistible heroism of Deku" who does something that every other hero in the story always did. Like, I hope the end-game no-jutsu will be more satisfying.

The OFA-plot and vestiges are in the center, but still, we are given almost no reason to care about the vestiges or their relationship with Deku or the history of AFO vs OFA. The whole mystery of the 2nd and the 3rd ends in an unsatisfying reveal, where Deku doesn't have to do a damn thing again to get those two on his side.

I do like Class A showing up and the one chapter of flashback we get of them. Some of the fight is fun, some of it is extremely cringy though. The message is also wishy-washy. I think the fight should have squarely focused on the class refusing Deku seeing them as useless victims and telling him that he doesn't get to choose who cares about him. But again, 80% of it is just a "Deku-praise-fest".

Bakugou apology is great though and the highlight of the arc.

Deku's return and Uraraka's speech and the straw-manning of the civilians is again pretty terrible, and the only thing that carries those chapters is Horikoshi laying down thick the ham-fisted parallels.

So these are the main issues. I think the arc could have worked but it didn't because the overall execution was really bad. It had beautiful art and some compelling scenes / images, but didn't feel coherent.

But its biggest flaw was Horikoshi pulling his punches. Not letting Deku stumble, doubt, question, fail meant he learnt nothing and didn't get the kind of downfall after which you feel the sweet satisfaction of him standing back up again (these scenes tend to go to Bakugou).

[hyenahunt]

Obbligato: The Punishment of Kaname Tojo - 3

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, two years ago

Characters: Jun

Proofreading: 310mc (JP) & Skyress (ENG)

Translation: hyenahunt

Jun: (No matter what, we're only human in the end. There's no way for us to remove ourselves from that fact, and live on all unsullied and beautiful.)

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Jun: Gyaaaagh!?

Damn 'em all! They seriously threw me out! Kicked and chased me off like a stray dog or some shit...! Goddamn! Goddamn! Goddamn!!!

Jun: Ugh, what a fuckin' useful word this is! GODDAMN!

(By saying that, your anger is directed only at God... That's what Kazehaya-senpai told me.)

(And if we don't say things that'll hurt other people, then maybe we can have "a kind world where no one gets hurt", huh?)

(In this society that's nothing but unreasonable, we should curse God or fate rather than other living, breathing people. In that case, that's right: no one will get hurt.)

(But you know, Senpai... that's a seriously idealistic way to think. It's not some faceless God out there somewhere that pisses us off.)

(Instead, it's the other people around us, each and every time. What we wanna do to them is hurt them and drag 'em through the mud, and even make them disappear if we could.

(In the end, that's what we truly want.)

(That's why it’s impossible for us to live in that idealistic way Kazehaya-senpai so desires.)

Jun: (............)

(No matter what, we're only human in the end. There's no way for us to remove ourselves from that fact, and live on all unsullied and beautiful.)

(And even Kazehaya-senpai, who lives as purely as he can, is no exception to that.)

(He's only human, too. That's why, after taking on such an absurdly huge amount of work upon himself all alone, it's only natural he'd physically fall apart.)

(I couldn't just stand by and watch it happen, and I asked him over and over to let me help, but he turned me down each time. I don't get why, though.)

(I kept a distance from the group in the Catacombs he lead ‘cause it gave me the creeps, but...)

(Kazehaya-senpai had countless "followers" who adored him with a dedication far beyond mine, and yet...)

(Not a single one of them could save him.)

Jun: (Of course, I'm sure they wanted to — after all, everyone loved Kazehaya-senpai. He's the one who’d always help to fill in whatever we were lacking.)

(The one who toiled and suffered away just to grant us what we wanted, all without a single reward.)

(We loved him, relied on him and respected him.)

(So everyone should've wanted to help him out all together. Everyone should've chipped in with the work, or done something — anything — to support him.)

(But he wouldn't hear of it. It seems like no matter what, Kazehaya-senpai rejected each and every offer of help — )

(Everyone who tried to disregard what he said and insisted on helping him anyway just didn't succeed...)

(There's no doubt about it — Kazehaya-senpai was the top idol of Reimei Academy. What he carried upon those delicate shoulders of his was a burden so heavy no one else could have borne it.)

Jun: (His followers tried to take on work requests made to him on their own accord. They tried to stand in as substitutes and bear the work on their own, just so that he could rest —)

(But they were all bound to fail. They couldn't meet the standards for the requested work. And that's because the idol known as "Tatsumi Kazehaya" was in fact a colony headed by Senpai.)

(It was a monster that grew all the stronger for its swarm-like numbers. Even if a fraction of that colony tried to undertake the work meant for the entirety of "Tatsumi Kazehaya", they didn't have a hope in hell of succeeding.)

(It would've been impossible to meet what was required of them.)

(It wouldn't have been enough, no matter what they did. They couldn't do the work properly and just kept making mistakes.)

(And by messing up over and over again, it took a heavy toll on the reputation of the whole of "Tatsumi Kazehaya".)

(When Kazehaya-senpai was in charge and called the shots, everything would go smoothly.)

(But now that he's been run into the ground, it's turned into a vicious circle.)

(Not a thing has been going well... And to make things worse, Kazehaya-senpai's "followers" have started pinning the blame onto him, all to avoid getting hurt themselves, even though he's the very one they're supposed to love.)

(Claiming that it wasn't them that failed, it was the whole of "Tatsumi Kazehaya".)

(By saying shit like that, they could hang onto their self-respect.)

(Even though they owe everything to Kazehaya-senpai…)

(Instead they turned their backs on him and started shitting on him.)

(And that’s how they started to rot to the very core..)

Jun: (They gave me bad vibes from the start, but it's gotten to the point where I don't even wanna breathe the same air as 'em.)

(They gather together in that underground darkness, and do nothing but talk shit about Kazehaya-senpai.)

(They can then go about their normal lives like there's a weight off their shoulders, smiling away to themselves like idiots.)

(Sure, how easy things would be if you could just dump everything you hate onto someone else, right? But y'know, the guy you shoved everything onto is also only human — Kazehaya-senpai is only human!)

(He's nothing like a god. He's a human being made of flesh and blood, just like us.)

Jun: (It's precisely 'cause we're human that we can get hurt. And when those wounds get too much to bear, we'll fall apart. That's why Kazehaya-senpai wound up in the hospital... not just for his ruined physical condition, but for the sheer mental toll it's taken on him, too.)

(Why can't everyone understand something so simple?)

(How could everyone forget something like that?)

[ ☆ ]

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[lovelywooz]

Kim Jungwoo - Enough

Hope you guys enjoy ! Not enough people write for Jungwoo so I only feel a little bit bad that most of my writing will probably be about him teehee! If you have any requests or would like to sat hi just send me a message and I’ll reply when I can :) otherwise please look forward to my next postings when they happen!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning: This is VERY angsty. Mentions of past toxic and mean partners. Hurt-Comfort. All that good stuff.

Not comparing yourself to others is hard. But not comparing yourself to your immaculately perfect boyfriend? That is just plain impossible. You couldn’t possibly measure up.

*******************************************************

When you look at your boyfriend, it’s easy to tell why you love him. His laugh is contagious. He can brighten up a whole room with just his mere presence. He’s responsible and the hardest worker you’ve ever seen. And on top of all that, he is drop dead gorgeous. His delicate yet powerful frame compliments his fluffy hair and soft face. His tall stature doesn’t stop him from bending down uncomfortably just to rest a head on your shoulder. Simply put, he’s a total catch by anyones standards. And you’re so lucky to have him.

When you look at yourself, it’s hard to see the same value. Staring into your sullen eyes in the mirror, on nights like these you can’t help but wonder what he sees in you. How could someone so incredible really stay with someone as mediocre as you? Every day is like walking on eggshells, thinking endlessly on what to do to keep his interest and berating yourself when you do something that might be annoying. It’s a lot of effort to keep up the mask every day but if that’s what it takes then that’s what it takes. If he knew how much baggage you were carrying he would run away and never look back. You wash your face and try not to think about the way your fingers brush over a few forming blemishes on your skin.

You’ll never feel good enough for him.

You make your way downstairs to the dining room, adjusting the huge sweater draped over your frame on the way down. Its Jungwoo’s of course. You just couldn’t resist the idea of having his smell swathed around you and he didn’t seem to mind. You wished you could even be half as comforting to him but you doubt that. Sitting down at the dinner table, you look over the many steaming side dishes scattered about.

It was Jungwoo’s turn to cook dinner tonight. You’ve been trading off every other day as of this month. That way if he didn’t enjoy your food anymore he would only have to eat it for a few nights a week and he wouldn’t be burdened cooking for both of you every night. He’s probably so tired after work and you learned from a previous partner that if dinner isn’t consistently on the table, they would go eat dinner with someone else.

You hope that your little arrangement is a good enough compromise for Woo.

Your mind wanders back to this morning when you asked what he had in mind and he insisted he cook korean food for you. “I miss my mom’s cooking sometimes. I’m not nearly as good as her but… I really want to make something extra nice for you sweetheart”. He looked deep into your eyes, as if searching for something you couldn’t quite figure out. “Okay babe sounds great” you say, absentmindedly breaking eye contact while fixing your outfit in the mirror. You wear it all the time and yet it feels like it doesn’t look as nice as it used to.

You recall the time an ex of yours told you, “you’re too clingy in the morning, just leave me the fuck alone and do your routine and I’ll do mine”.

You don’t say anything more so as not to disturb Jungwoo while he brushes his teeth and fixes his fluffy hair. You want to reach out and brush your fingers over it so badly the way you used to, but you decide it would probably just piss him off. You gave him a short kiss before heading downstairs and out the front door, leaving him standing alone in your shared bathroom.

Jungwoo’s hands fall from his hair to the counter as he hears the door firmly shut. He wipes the mist from his eyes and tries to stop biting his nails before making his way out the door as well.

“… Well it’s not gonna jump onto your plate by itself sweetie”. Jungwoo broke you out of your thoughts with a weak laugh.

“Oh yeah. Sorry ha ha!” You move your chopsticks towards the dakgalbi thats wafting an irresistible aura and grab a few pieces to set on your small dish of rice. “I’ve been spacing out a bit lately.”

“You’ve been spacing out, a lot, lately actually.” Jungwoo clears his throat and stands up a bit from his seat to grab some kimchi. “Sorry. That came out weird... I’m just a little… well I’m worried about you.” He shoves the food in his mouth with gusto then opens it back up to regulate the temperature and swallows after a while. Leaving a very uncomfortable silence. He suddenly sets down his chopsticks and sits ramrod straight.

“I’m worried about us”.

You nearly choked on the rice you had only just started chewing.

“I didn’t want to do this now. I’m sorry I just can’t wait any longer I’ve been so worried lately”. He picks his hands up from the table almost confusedly and then brings them down to his knees, rubbing them quickly. He brings them back up in a matter of seconds though, in favor of running his hands through his hair fervently. His eyes are shifting anywhere but yours. All the habits he shows when he’s most nervous. “Did I do something wrong? Because you just don’t seem as happy to see me lately and, and I feel like, every time I compliment you or kiss you or touch you or anything you just”, he swallows heavily in an attempt to keep his voice from quivering, “You just, hate it. Like you barely even look at me anymore. I thought maybe it was just an off day or two for you, but it’s been weeks now”.

You open your mouth to speak, to offer him some explanation that would hopefully make it all better, but are pointedly interrupted by him. “No- I’m not done”, he stands up from his seat at the table and paces around for a moment before turning to face you directly, “I have to know. Don’t sugar coat it”. He looks up at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, and asks a question you couldn’t have prepared yourself for.

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

What. How could this have happened? The love of your life, in tears in front of you, because he thinks you don’t love him anymore? Him. In all his perfection. In all his kindness and intelligence. The man you’ve obsessed over night and day for years, finding a new detail to love about him every week. Of course you still love him, you’ve never doubted it for even a second. How could you have possibly made him think any differently? You’ve been controlling your actions so carefully so as not to disturb or annoy him. Where could it have gone wrong?

You then remember all the times you’ve said no to dates recently because you didn’t “feel like going out” when in reality you felt too guilty to let him waste even a bit of his hard earned money on you. The times you’ve skipped over romance movies and tv shows he suggests to watch together because they remind you you can’t offer him the fairytale love he deserves. All the nights he’s gently slid a hand up your thigh in bed and you pretended to be asleep because you felt like your body wasn’t pretty enough. Not calling him on the way home from work this week because you’ve been bawling your eyes out on the drive home in fear of losing him.

Oh god. The awful realization hits you all at once.

You’ve been so worried about holding him back. About hurting him. About your love not being enough. So focused on ‘fixing’ every insecurity in a desperate attempt to prove your worth to yourself and to him. So mixed up inside all of that, that the love you’ve been giving him all but dried up. And you upset him regardless. You failed.

“You’re not saying anything damn it why are you not saying anything?!” He is full on sobbing now when you come back to reality. “I love you so much. I don’t want anyone else so just please don’t leave me. I don’t know what I did to push you away but I’ll do anything to have you back. It’s only you. It’s only you…” His desperate pleading trails off as the scalding hot tears stream heavily down his face.

The tears have started in your eyes now as you finally speak. “Jungwoo… I love you so much. I love you just as much as I ever have. I’m head over heels for you. I never meant to make you feel this way I am so, so sorry.” You stand up from your chair as well and walk so slowly towards him. “The truth is, I just- I-“ you’re floundering against the tightness in your throat. Why is this so difficult?

“I feel like I’m not enough for you.”

He looks up from his arms. Oceans still rising underneath his eyes.

“I have so much baggage. From experiences and relationships that I’ve been too scared to tell you about. I just didn’t want to chase you away when you found out how messed up I am. I’m so scared to love because I don’t know how to do it correctly and I’m scared that I will create something that only hurts you. I still can’t even fathom how you could love someone like me. I’ve been agonizing all this time trying to be the best partner for you but I still can’t even do that right. Someone as perfect and beautiful as you deserved so much more than me.” You move a hand up to wipe his teary eyes, not realizing how much closer you are now than when you started. “So I hid everything. And pretended like it never happened. I decided to hide at first and maybe open up later but the years just caught up to me and the stakes grew higher and higher as I saw how amazing you are and fell so far in love with you that the idea of losing you because of my incompetence with love was just not an option anymore.” At some point he must have put his arms around you, because you register his comforting scent all around and feel your forehead land against his chest so softly as if it were a feather.

“How long, have you been feeling this way?” His voice is hoarse and soft from crying but he seems to have gained some control over his tear ducts. “I mean like- how long has it been building up inside?”.

“I don’t know. It’s been much worse lately. I’m so sorry Jungwoo.” Your answer will have to suffice for now because your throat is aching terribly from holding back your tears. You’re the one who hurt him, how could you possibly be letting Him comfort You? Once again you feel like you’re bringing him down. You can hear the harsh words and brutal truths from your previous partners nipping at your mind again. Only this time, his voice is there to break your spiraling.

“I forgive you. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But there’s one thing that you should hear. If nothing else.” He brings you out of his arms to look him in the eye, making sure that you are holding his gaze by placing one hand on your cheek and the other on your shoulder. You’re expecting him to be so angry with you. This is the part where he leaves you forever. You’ve neglected him. You’ve inconvenienced him. You’ve ignored him. And-

“I don’t care what they told you about yourself. Whoever they are. I fucking love-“ his voice breaks in his sincerity, “I love you. I love everything about you. They way you love is perfect just the way it is. You’re my favorite part of life. And if this is something that we have to work on, then we will work on it together. We will get through this. But we can’t do that if you don’t talk to me. You have to let me in. I’m here to help you now. I’m not like them.”

Your body has a physical reaction to his words. They shoot up your spine like an electric shock and land right where your heart is. Never before in your life have you heard someone talk about you with such conviction. You can feel some part of your emotional walls crumbling away. The way he holds you like a treasure. The way he looks at you with more devotion than you can even fathom. Suddenly the voices of your exes get quieter.

“I love you so much sweetheart. You don’t have to be perfect. All you have to do is be yourself. You will Always be more than enough for me.” He presses his soul to yours in the form of a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too Woo, I love you so much.” The dakgalbi is cold, but your hearts are so warm. In this moment you know for certain now. As long as you have each other,

Everything is going to be okay.

[safetycar-restart]

I'm sure you've probably posted something about this, but that photo of Charles in the paddock on Wednesday already looking so done got me thinking!

Clearly, Pierre is living his best life this season. His car is fast, his team adore him, they have options and he's so settled and happy! And you and Charles have a huge part to play in this, of course! Everything has slipped into place for him. Charles however, well, dude had a penalty in race 2 and things are not going too well for him.

What if he doesn't share how much its bothering him with you because he doesn't want to upset Pierre, because his Pierre deserves all the best things in the while wide world and things are finally so good for him, so Charles won't say anything to make his Pierre worry. You know your bunny, you are his mommy after all! You can tell there's something bothering him, so when Pierre is at an Alpine event in Australia, you sit your little bunny down and remind him he can always talk to you and you can't help him if you don't know what's really going on. And he's just so overwhelmed! He gets teary and just starts telling you everything he's been carrying about with him, all of the feelings and tears just come pouring out and he begs you not to tell his Pierre. Your heart breaks for him, he's trying to be so brave and so strong but he's so sad and hurt and tired. So you snuggle him down with his favourite blanket, and snacks and give him all the cuddles and kisses.

Pierre is confused when he gets back to the suite, but in true Pierre fashion, he asks 0 questions, just climbs under the blanket when you raise it for him and snuggles his bunny, giving him lots of kisses. You know he'll ultimately ask you later, but right now he gets head scratches for being good and taking care of Charles.

(If its not taken could I have the 🐼?)

Firstly, of course you can have that emoji! I’ll add it to the claimed list (if you’d like to claim an emoji, there’s a claimed list on my pinned post, if you can’t see the pin post then let me know and I’ll send you the list of claimed emojis). And then secondly, I love this!!!

I fully agree that Charles would try to pretend he’s fine. His Pierre is FINALLY happy!! He doesn’t want to ruin it by being all sad and needy. He just wants his Pierre to really enjoy this time and enjoy finally being in a good team where he’s loved and able to compete.

Charles really couldn’t be happier for his Pierre.

But his season has started so badly and he already feels so sad and unmotivated for the rest of the season. He really wants to talk to his mommy and his Pierre about it, but he doesn’t want to be a burden. He knows the moment he speaks about it, you and Pierre will ignore how well Pierre is doing and turn all your attention to looking after him (which if he’s honest, is exactly what he needs but he doesn’t want to ruin everything for Pierre).

The issue, of course, is that you notice this. You’re his mommy! Of course you’d notice your sweet bunny isn’t himself and is much sadder than usual. He tries so hard to put on a brave face but you see right through him.

And the thing is, I think Pierre might as well? But Pierre knows that you can get Charles to open up more than he can. So he willingly goes to the Alpine event alone, instead of asking you to come with, so that you can talk to Charles.

Firstly, Charles is so relieved to hear that you aren’t going with Pierre to the Alpine event. He really really needs some alone time with his mommy.

The moment it’s just the two of you in the hotel room, you invite him to come sit on the couch with you and wrap your arm around his shoulders. He leans into you so easily, pulling his legs up and over your lap. He’s feeling so sad and so small and some cuddles are exactly what he wants.

But then you start talking and ask him what’s bothering him, reminding him that you’re his mommy and it’s your job to look after him. You can’t do that job properly if he doesn’t tell you what’s wrong.

He sniffles a few times and then it all comes pouring out. It’s half what you expected, about how bad Ferrari are and how sad he is about the start to the season and how hopeless he feels his championship chances.

Then he starts to talk about Pierre, about how bad he feels for ruining Pierre’s happiness, about how he needs to be happy for Pierre finally getting the team he deserves and not be upset about his own troubles. He says he feels bad, like he’s being a bad bunny because he can’t put aside his issues to support Pierre.

Your heart just breaks for him.

And you also feel like you’ve failed him? He shouldn’t have to think like that, shouldn’t even be considering that his needs might upset Pierre. He should always be able to express that, always.

And unfortunately there’s not much you can do for your sweet bunny because you can’t suddenly make Ferrari a reasonable team. But you can give him all the support possible and make sure he knows his needs will never be less important than Pierre’s happiness.

Especially because there’s no way Pierre would want to be kept in the dark about this. Pierre wants to know what his bunny needs, just like you!!

So you bring Charles to bed and let him hide against your chest. He cries for a little while, which you just hold him through because sometimes he just needs to let it all out.

Once he’s cried out, you wipe his face clean and give him kisses and then just put some calming music on. You offer to get something on the tv but Charles says no. He doesn’t want that type of distraction. He just wants to be held and to feel close to his mommy.

So that’s what you do, just running your hands up and down his back and letting Charles hide from the world in your arms, let him be a sad little bunny.

When Pierre comes, he’s concerned. You can see what he wants to ask why Charles is all curled up, but he doesn’t. He just quickly gets changed and climbs into bed.

“Pierre?” Charles asks, he almost seems like he’s about to sit up but you pull him back down. You refuse to let Charles put on a happy face again.

Charles lays back down on your chest, and he relaxes even more when Pierre hugs him from behind. He spoons bunny, kissing his neck and resting his hands on Charles’s tummy.

“Want cuddles bunny?” Pierre asks, “alright, you’ll get your cuddles.”

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t ask anymore questions. Charles clearly needs quiet cuddles, so he’ll get quiet cuddles.

Tomorrow Pierre will ask you what happened, and you’ll tell him to ask Charles. And then you’ll sit them both down and let them talk.

Your bunny will be well cared for.

[katlakitty]

N7Month Challenge - Day 11: Crew

Ever since their first meeting Gil had been attracted to Scott Ryder. The only reason why no one had noticed it before was Gil's perfect poker face, a skill that wasn't only useful whenever he played against someone. The only person on the Tempest who had a hunch that he had an eye on Scott was Vetra, but that was his own fault. He'd gotten carried away after telling her about the poker game against Scott. She hadn't commented on it, but he noticed the way her mandibles twitched whenever Gil caught himself staring at Scott.

The rest of the crew didn't care or didn't pay as close attention to everyone around them. Gil appreciated that though. He didn't really want his crush on the Pathfinder to be known. Romances and affairs happened among the crew of a tiny ship like this, but Scot wasn't a random mechanic or technician. He was the Pathfinder. The one person everyone was relying on and Gil wasn't planning on distracting him. Or become another problem Scott had to solve and think about.

Gil had noticed the signs of stress in Scott's behavior, the position of a Pathfinder wasn't an easy one and everyone, including the crew, came to him expecting him to solve their problems. Even Vetra, who was almost as perceptive as Gil had asked for a huge favor that had almost ended up killing the entire ground team on a deserted moon.

But Gil locked his feelings away, no matter how much he wanted to make a move and be someone Scott could lean on, he wouldn't want to add to the burden he was carrying if his feelings weren't reciprocated. He was fine standing at the sidelines and admire him from afar. He knew the ropes, he would be fine.

Gil happened to look up at that exact moment when Scott stopped in front of the giant window in the engine room. The muscles in Scott's jaw tensed, a clear sign that he was stressed and just wanted to be left alone, but Peepee simply ignored it and had stopped him to talk.

Gil shook his head at her behavior and returned to his work. Some time later the door to the engine room opened and he looked over. A small part of him hoped it would be Scott who came by for a quick chat, but it was just Liam and by the look on his face he was just here to gossip.

"Have you heard?" Liam leaned against the console next to Gil.

"Heard what?" Gil asked.

"The rumors about Ryder and Peebee," Liam said in a low voice and leaned closer to him. Gil stopped working and looked up.

"No?"

“She locked herself and Ryder into the escape pod earlier.” Liam said with an amused expression.

Gil tried hard to keep his face neutral, but his heart started racing. "How would you know?"

“Kallo told me.” Liam grinned. "They've been in there for a while."

“The escape pod?” Gil repeated and remembered some strange readings on the sensors. “Oh. So that’s why the sensors went off. They turned off the gravity.”

“Interesting.” By the look on Liam's face he hadn't known about that. Soon enough the entire ship would know thanks to him. Gil wanted to flinch, he didn't know why he had said it, but he did regret it already.

“Wonder what they were doing in there.” Liam smirked.

“None of our business.” Gil said decidedly and ignored the sting in his chest.

“If you say so,” Liam replied and pushed himself off the console. "I think it's very important information."

Gil let out a sigh of relief when Liam had finally left him alone. He waited for Liam to leave before he rubbed over his eyes and flinched. He had an unrequited crush on someone before, he was fine standing at the sidelines and admire him from afar. He knew the ropes, he would be fine... right?

You can find a collection of all my N7 Month drabbles on AO3.