#i am everything and anything and nothing all at once

[leonsdolly]

Canto V

Plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon's back from Spain, but there's something off about him.

CW: nsfw 18+, p in v, dubcon, implied somnophilia, breeding kink, bruising, titplay, cunnilingus, forced orgasms, overstimulation, lots of spit, choking, reader passes out during sex

WC: 2.4k

It may as well be a universally known concept that when you’re in a relationship with a government agent, you’d better get used to being strangers with the finer details. Who, what, when, where, and why made themselves at home in your vocabulary while you were dating Leon. It was all futile; he couldn't ever tell you where he was going for his next mission or when he was coming back to your grabby hands. Swearing confidentiality with your left hand on the Bible trumps a loving, concerned girlfriend apparently.

Leon had been gone for a few days this time around, and you weren’t sure when exactly he’d be back. You prayed to every divinity who cared to listen that he would come back home safe and sound to you. You did so every time he left. The government calls, he runs, you make your deals with Jesus.

The clock strikes midnight as you flit around your apartment, closing the kitchen and ensuring everything is locked up for the night. You got home from work rather late, and you’re looking forward to falling into a deep slumber, especially since you’ve taken your everything shower, completed your skincare routine, and changed into a cute teddy bear print cami with matching boy shorts. While your heart aches for your absent boyfriend, you throw your shoulders back and keep your chin high, braving another night of sleeping alone in your queen-sized bed. You slide under the covers and turn off your bedside lamp before closing your eyes and ultimately slipping into a welcomed state of unconsciousness.

Scratching, more scratching… Huh? You blearily open your eyes before squinting at the time displayed on your alarm clock - 1:48 am. Did something wake you? You don’t hear anything, yet you have the sinking feeling that something did lull you out of your sleep. You fumble to turn the lamp on - thankfully, there’s nothing standing in the corner of your room or anything else that would have you screaming bloody murder until your lungs collapsed. The covers are pulled aside as you sit up in bed, planting your feet on the hardwood floor. 

Once your feet lightly hit the floor, a terrible shuffling resounds from the living room which makes your blood freeze over. Your limbs are immobilized, but your eyes move towards the door, like you’re in a state of sleep paralysis and your demon’s lurking around the corner. Heavy footsteps grow closer and closer to your door, and you watch the doorknob turn in slow motion. 

The door swings open, and your body dissolves. 

“Leon?” Your eyes blink at him, unsure for a second if he’s the product of a sleep paralysis induced hallucination.

Your lover stands before you with a somewhat dazed expression himself - dark circles engraved below his exhausted eyes, faded bruises on his face, dark veins trailing across his pale skin. He stands transfixed for what feels like forever before he blinks. “Baby.”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your own stupor, and you launch off the bed and straight into his arms. You bury your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around him tightly. “You’re home.”

He shudders violently before his arms encircle you as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling the smell of your shampoo - ah, figs and camellia, a breath of fresh air from guts and mold. “I missed you… I almost didn't…” His voice is unsteady, wavering in a way that makes you want to never let go of him.

“It's okay, my love. You're home now, you’re safe.”

“I almost didn't make it… You don’t know what happened…” His hands shake slightly as he grips onto you a little harder.

A lump forms in your throat at the realization that he could have very well perished during this mission. It’s not often that he lets you see him in such a vulnerable state, so hearing the fear decorate his tone causes your heart to squeeze painfully. 

“What happened?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Fine, at least tell me where you were. S’not like I can head there and foil the government’s plans after it’s already over. ”

“...Spain.”

You wonder what kind of horrors had transpired in Spain, but you know better than to inquire further. You hold him close and rub his back soothingly, trying to make him feel as loved as possible. “It's over now, right?”

“Right…” A hint of worry colors his tone as he presses a kiss to your head. “Can we just go to sleep?”

“Of course,” you reach up to gently rub the shadowy veins visible underneath his eyes and creeping up his neck. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Guess my body just went through a lot back there.”

You take his arms, turning them over and over and examining them closely for any serious wounds. Thankfully, you don’t see anything except for the occasional minuscule scrape, though the unnaturally dark veins worry you. You’re afraid they may be the result of some sort of vascular impairment, so you make a promise to yourself that you’ll drag him to the doctor’s office soon for a proper assessment. You help him wash up, letting him use your products so he’s soft and smelling like you. You hold each other close in bed, relishing the feeling of finally being able to sleep in each other’s arms after time apart.

Ouch. You wince slightly as you wake up to the sun streaming in through your lace curtains. You drowsily fumble for Leon’s hand to hold first thing in the morning like you usually do, but the space next to you is empty. You certainly hope you hadn’t just dreamed of his homecoming.

“Baby?” You croak as you wince again. Are you naked? And why are you so sore? Your eyes trail down to your arms which are littered with bruises. Eyes wide like cherry pies, you tug the comforter off to discover that the rest of your bare body is marked in a similar fashion - bruises bloomed across your neck, teeth marks engraved in your breasts, handprints stamped onto your hips like someone had been gripping onto them for dear life. Trembling, you slowly raise yourself up to a sitting position. You squirm as you feel slick in between your thighs, how fresh it is, you can't say for sure.

“Leon?” Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears as you call out for your lover.

You’re dazed as you take a step forward, feeling your body spinning like a ballerina, a delicate little thing that’s been used and abused and stuffed in a box marked FRAGILE. A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, anchoring you to his bare chest- they’re so much warmer than your Leon’s. Your eyes flutter as they gaze straight up into a pair that look like your Leon's except they’re murkier, hungrier. 

Inky blood vessels coagulate underneath his skin, giving him a mottled appearance. They interweave throughout his body like morbid ribbons decorating his limbs for a funeral. He breathes heavily as he squeezes at your already tender body, causing you to whimper.

“Leon, ‘m sore… What did you do?” A low growl reverberates within him as he pulls you back onto the bed, shoving you onto your back. Before you can interrogate him further, his lips smash against yours. His kisses are all teeth and slobber, filled with nothing but the desire to ravage everything you hold near and dear.

“Mine, all mine,” he groans as he latches his lips onto your neck, decorating it with his very own artistic flair. “Mine to keep forever.” You whimper at the way his lips assault your most sensitive point like a wolf ready to tear out the wide eyed fawn’s throat. 

“Fuck, feels so good,” you moan which further ignites that primal instinct in him that wants to give you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known, all for the sake of claiming you as his very own mate. He squeezes your tits together and spits on them before rubbing it into your nipples with the rough pads of his thumbs. You squeal at the stimulation as he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling at it as hard as he can before letting go with a pop.

“God, Leon,” you cry out as he continues to suck on your tits. He pushes them together as hard as he can and forces both nipples into his mouth so he can lap at them like a creature who stumbled across an eternal spring in the vast desert.

“Love these tits,” he groans. “Sweet fucking nipples, made to suck on all day and night. To think they’re gonna get even bigger when they're full of milk.” He pushes his face in between them before finally pulling away with a slap to each one, watching them jiggle with a carnal gaze.

“M-milk?” You whimper as he kisses across your abdomen and lowers down to your leaking pussy.

“Yeah,” he pants as he spreads your dripping folds open with his thumbs, inspecting the remnants of the now stale cum he had dumped inside while you slept like an unsuspecting angel. “Your body has accepted my gift.” A tinge of fear courses through your veins at this last line; you can’t put your finger on why it makes your skin crawl, but they don’t sound like your Leon’s words.

“Gift?” You involuntarily moan as he lets himself drool on your pussy before pressing sloppy kisses straight onto your clit. 

“You’ll take my seed.” He starts lapping at your pussy ruthlessly, but not before grabbing your thighs and forcing them to clamp around his head, keeping him fused to your most intimate parts. Your sweet noises overflow the room as your back arches like he’s possessing you, dragging you down to flail around for eternity among the powerful black winds. Your voice turns shrill as you cum on his salacious tongue. Canto V.

When he finally emerges for air, his eyes are now murkier than before - the once serene blue that inspired such tranquility is now charred, tenebrous. “Leon,” your eyes tear up as you gaze down at him with your elbows propping you up.

“Shh,” he smirks as he raises himself up to pump his hard cock a few times before aligning himself with your pretty hole. “My baby, my lamb. Gonna get your beautiful belly all swollen for me. Gonna creampie you as many times as it takes.” He pushes himself inside your sopping cunt as you wail for the heavens. Your pussy allows him to enter with ease, clenching around him like it needed him to breathe - which it did. He begins to thrust into you with all the vigor of a madman.

“So good for me, my fucking girl,” he pants as he continues to pound into you. He leers at the way your tits bounce at each thrust before leaning over to spit on them. Your chest gleams with his saliva as you moan louder than you ever have before, like your throat really is being ripped out by the big bad wolf. His cock reaches deep, hitting all the spots you know nothing else can, and before you know it, you’re cumming all over him as he continues to pummel into you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to claw onto anything that can keep you physically grounded through your orgasm.

He laughs a little to himself as he continues to fuck you despite the fact you just came. “L-leon,” you cry out. “S’too much, too sensitive.”

“You can take it, been taking it all night.” His balls slap against your ass as he leans down to jam his lips against yours, licking into your mouth until your head’s all dizzy again. He rears back to push your legs up against your chest as his cock pounds into you; the new angle’s making your eyes roll all the way back into your head. “Oh, fuck,” he murmurs to himself as his breath hitches and he stares down at you losing yourself in the mating press. “That’s a good breeding bitch.” His words are hushed, but they bounce around in your head and yank another orgasm out of you, leaving you sobbing from the overstimulation.

“S’okay baby,” he coos as he kisses your salty tears away and wraps a hand around your smooth throat. “You’re doing so well, accepting my gift.” His eyes unsettle you, damn near pitch black as they peer right into yours. Your battered pussy tightens in tandem with the hand gripping your throat. Your tongue lolls out as you start seeing stars, and he sucks on it. “Give me another one, little lamb.”

“C-can’t,” you slur as your limbs dissolve. You want to give him another one. Want it, want to bear his child, want to exist for him. Want to breathe him, let him pump through your circulatory system. His breathing becomes erratic, damn near hysterical, as he nears his own high. He rubs your swollen clit to bring you closer to yet another orgasm, though you wonder if you’ll live to tell the tale once you reach it. He pounds into you as hard as he can, unrestrained growls falling from his lips as he dumps his load into you. You manage to cum yet again, release so intense on your already wasted form, that it shatters your senses. You’re vaguely aware of someone shrieking, and it takes a while to realize that it’s coming from your own mouth. You did it. Your vision goes black, and you slump into unconsciousness. 

The first thing you perceive when you regain consciousness is the calloused hand gently caressing your face as if you’re a china doll. “Leon?” Your mumble brings him to slowly gaze at you with concern and shame.

“Baby.” He raises his other hand to hold yours with all the love and tenderness he could muster. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore… tired…” You frown slightly as you try to sit up, but he stops you from straining yourself. “What happened, Leon?”

“I’m so sorry.” His eyes are cast downwards as if the floor will be more forgiving than his own lover. “I’m not okay.”

“It’s okay,” you frown as you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I could’ve. I thought this thing had resolved itself in Spain.”

“We’ll figure this out together.” You gently tug his arm, signaling to him that for now, you just want him laying with you. He slides into the bed and cautiously rolls you over on your side so that he’s spooning you from behind. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and gives your belly a pat.

[san8ny]

Hiii i have a request, could u write about ex ellie still totally in love with u, she comes to your house to pick her things up, you guys end up fucking and start to date again?

(Emoji just to identify it was me 🌸)

Sweet Girl.

an: had to contribute to the sub! Ellie shortage..srry if shes pretty pathetic../wc: 1.09k

“We both need to move on.”

Ellie lets out a frustrated huff at your blunt response, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “I don’t want to move on from you. I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” She sighs again, feeling so hopelessly vulnerable like this. But she knows they’re already past the point of holding back.

“But you—“

“Please..” Ellie looks up from where she’s kneeled at your bedpost, her gaze hungry and desperately possessive. She doesn’t want to have to think about anything else right now. She just wants to be this, tangled up in bed with you. “Please..”

“Ugh, ‘els.” You sigh annoyed and obviously irritated with the time of night she’s decided to come bother you.

2:22 AM

Ellie lets out a short whine at the nickname, her body already responding to your exasperation. She leans down and buries her face in your lap, pressing as much of herself against you as possible. “I want you so bad,” she whispers pathetically like you didn’t hear her the last 200 times.

“You know what? Fine, but you’re gonna get the fuck up out of my house after this.” You press, pulling her from the wooden floorboard and onto your bed, “and you’re going to listen to everything I say.”

“I-i always do—“

“Answer.”

Ellie shudders at the menacing tone of your voice, “Everything,” she whispers, her hands running over your body. “ ‘i’ll do everything you want..just, shit, touch me...”

You hum at the soft pleading, massaging her scalp lightly with your fingertips, an attempt to ease her into a state of relaxation; Ellie’s eyes feel heavy as she slumps into you, you’re so pretty..

“ What happened to getting your stuff?”

Ellie groans, letting out a petulant huff when you catch onto her excuse to come over. “I’ll grab my stuff later,” she mutters, lifting her head to look at you with a pleading look in her eyes. “Why won’t you touch me..”

You scoff, taking your hands away from her scalp and pushing her away, “Impatient girls don’t get jack.”

Ellie's eyes widen as you push her away, her breath suddenly hitching in her throat. "W-what?" her voice comes out as a strangled whisper.

She feels utterly humiliated, her heart clenching hard in her chest. "Is this some kind of punishment for what I did? Making me want you this bad, and then turning me away?" She feels foolish and humiliated, tears pricking at her eyes.

“Say you’re sorr—

"I'm sorry," Ellie chokes out before you can even complete the order. The words feel foreign in her mouth, but her heart tightens as she forces them out. "I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for pushing you away. I'm sorry for being so impatient. I'm sorry for..." Her voice breaks, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks up at you, her eyes pleading. "I'm sorry for everything. Please, baby. Let me stay. Let me make it up to you."

She hesitates a moment before she clambers forward to sit on your lap again, her body pressing flush against yours.

you sigh in content, “Such a good girl you are, Ellie.” cupping her cheeks, you tilt her head backwards to slightly face you, “Pick where you want me to touch first.”

A shiver runs down Ellie’s spine at the question, but she doesn’t hesitate in her answer. “Lips,” she whispers. She wants to taste your mouth again, feels like she’s starving for it. “Kiss me,” her voice coming out needy and desperate.

Ellie moans hungrily into the kiss once you give in, her hand coming down to your side to your arm, holding you close as she kisses back. Her tongue pushes past your soft lips, tasting herself as she lets all her pent up desperation and longing bleed out and into the kiss.

“Missed you so much,” she babbles, “Nothing has felt the same without you. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t think. I just need you. I need you so bad..” her back arching involuntarily as your lips start trailing down her neck

You nod against her skin, nose brushing up on her nape where your perky tits were to her toned back, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Hm? ‘dunno if you’re gonna wanna leave after this actually..”

Ellie feels dumbed out from how your smooth hands slowly slither into the waistband of her sweatpants, slipping them off; she also, can’t help the slight smile that grazes her face in the realization of what is just about to occur between the two exes.

loveyouloveyouloveyou

“Gotta let me know what to do, sweet girl. Ungh...you’re so wet..” you preen when the pads of your fingers meet contact with the pleasurable mess Ellie’s made underneath the layering

Your compliments don’t help as much when you begin to rub her puffy mound, constricting hold feeling like sweet death to Ellie in addition to the sticky boxers she still had on.

shittttttt….

After some while, you kiss behind her ear right on a pressure point

“You still with me?” You murmur, knowing how little she can get off on if you tick her just the right way. she’s always been ultrasensitive, “Gonna give me a big one?..” your fingers don’t let up on the assault, occasionally rolling her clit in between your digits all the while,

She lets a small squeak out before leaning an arm back over her shoulder to hold your neck, almost in an attempt to press you closer to her like you both had space inbetween— you didn’t, “Uhn..uhn—! I’m g-gonna cum..” She whimpers,

You kiss the crown of her head before grinding the heel for your palm further onto her, “juust like that, like how I taught you..” She eventually does orgasm, repeating your name like a prayer while you talk her through it,

Ellie is breathless and boneless, her body utterly spent and sated from the intensity of the moment. She lets out long, shaky exhale as she blinks her eyes open, taking in the sight of you in front of her, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “That was…” she begins, her voice coming out a breathy whisper, but the words to describe it don’t come.

“Still gonna leave?” You ask, licking your digits

Ellie almost laughs at the question, still spent from the high she feels. “God, no,” she whispers. She lifts a trembling hand to your face, her fingers dancing over your soft skin. “After that? I’m never letting you kick me out again.” She presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone.

[tetsuskei]

⟣ tartaglia

notes: based off the fact that i am indeed a sleepy drunk, and also inspired by diluc’s lore with firewater, also childe lore. he can smell when something is done cooking?

warnings: self indulgent, childe is referred to by his birth name, russian pet names, suggestive themes, fluff

it’s always a beautiful sight to see your boyfriend, ajax, when he cooks in the kitchen.

second to the battlefield, this place is his domain. the sound of soft music plays in the background, and he’s completely in his element. the ginger moves his hips to the rhythm, swaying ever so gracefully while mumbling the lyrics to the current song under his breath. he’s always been a great dancer, so you’re not surprised. it makes you wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at.

you always adore seeing him in atmospheres such as this one, especially with how much he loves to cook. his lips are pursed in concentration, a cute crinkle to his nose on display from the small frown on his face. all of his movements are skilled and dexterous. his knife abilities—albeit ignoring the fact that he’s a harbinger—are precise and quick, almost like everything he’s doing is a second thought.

it may be the alcohol you had talking, or the everlasting love you have for him—or maybe both that gets you feeling extremely soft. the urge to kiss away the expression on his face is high, but you hold back on distracting him and starting something else entirely.

and speaking of distractions, your handsome boyfriend is sporting a v-neck crew shirt and some sweatpants. much different from his sharp work attire. and although loose, the material of his clothes are still somewhat form fitting. his back muscles had been flexing every so often in a way that makes it hard to peel your eyes away. you silently curse his lean muscular self for looking so soft and domestic. just really, how shameless—

“hey! you’re supposed to be helping, not slacking off!” ajax scolds, pointing a wooden spoon at you in a chastising way. but the playful lit to his tone suggests otherwise as he cocks his head, smiling. “mila, what are you daydreaming about from over there?”

you giggle, “sorry, i’m just admiring the view.”

he hums, his smile growing. “and is the view to your liking?”

“it’s likely.” you answering padding over to him.

“i hope so. i don’t look this good for nothing.”

once in his radius, he pulls you into his side, swaying you both as he stirs the food. he quietly tells you it’s his mother’s recipe and his favorite thing to make.

“may i try some?” you ask.

wordlessly, your boyfriend holds out a spoonful for you, and you happily eat off of the utensil. the juices and flavors evade your mouth, beating the rich aroma you’ve succumbed to long ago.

you close your eyes in bliss, blinking them open happily. “wow! it’s delicious, ‘jax!”

“it’s not done yet.” he explains, humbly. “almost, but not quite.”

“okay, perfectionist.” you laugh, going back for more. “still good enough to me.”

he pushes your hand back. “you’ll spoil your appetite.” he warns, frowning.

“i promise i don’t want a lot. just a smidge more. please?” you look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster, and he falters, trying to look away and focus back on what he’s doing.

as uncharacteristic as it may seem, ajax does not put up very much of a fight. not that he could ever say no to you anyways.

he sighs, “alright…fine.”

while you sit and eat (after clearly giving up on helping), your boyfriend starts to ramble about some theater performance he wants to take you to in fontaine.

“so what do you think?”

you hum quietly in response, your cheek on your hand. “mmh that sounds nice…”

ajax glances over at you, concerned. you had grown awfully quiet.

“are you alright?” he asks, inspecting the rest of you for any strange signs. “we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“i want to, yes!” your thoughts are jumbled. “and m’fine. why?” you add to reassure him, “just tired.”

‘tired? you were fine just fifteen minutes ago. so full of energy, actually’ he thinks, watching the way your eyes are suddenly drooping.

“well don’t worry, i’m almost done.” ajax assures.

“hey. did you put this in the food?” you hold up the open bottle of white wine, and some of the contents spill out. however, your boyfriend is quick to grab it once seeing how you’re swaying.

suddenly it all clicks in his brain. “ahh, i might’ve put in too much.” he chuckles, now noting the smell of the food a little bit different than usual. stronger and sharper like the wine. “that explains things. plus the firewater we had from earlier.” he recalls you taking an impressive amount of shots, trying to out beat him.

“didn’t you once say something about sharing firewater with someone in the cold makes them trustworthy? i’ve done half the battle!” you say with pride, albeit wobbling a little. “let’s go sit outside later! we’ll see who freezes first!”

ajax stares at you in awe before laughing—loudly.

“milaya, you always surprise me with just how cute you can be.” he pinches your cheeks before moving his hand to your lower back, steering you towards the couch. “now come on, sit down. you’re going to fall over at this rate.”

“‘kay.” you mumble, letting him guide you. you don’t really feel yourself moving until the plush cushion under you meets your bottom.

“i’m just going to clean up and i’ll be right back. i promise.” he reassures, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

you jump back up eagerly, “i’ll help!”

“no, you’ll stay here.” he pushes you back down gently before standing up himself. there’s a stern look on his face as he says, “you’ve had too much to drink. that’s my fault.”

a small huff leaves your mouth and you pout. your eyes start to water. “then…at least sit with me!”

“the kitchen has to be cleaned up, lisichka.” he reminds gently.

your eyes grow wetter. “the kitchen is more important than me?”

he gives you a look. “nothing could ever be more important than you. you know that.”

“then…you’ll stay. it is your fault after all.”

he laughs, scratching the back of his head, “alright then. but only for a little bit.”

the minute he sits down, you promptly slide yourself onto his lap, wordlessly making yourself comfortable.

“oh? what’s this?” his heart swells. you’re usually too shy to initiate something like this, often leading him to pulling you onto him.

there’s a confused look on your face. “you said to sit down and stay here, so i’m doing that.” you blink slowly, head tilting. “did i sit wrong?”

“no, of course not.” he answers, kissing your forehead. thankfully you’re too out of it to tease him, or he’d never hear the end of it.

he shifts you so your legs straddle his lap. your face is buried in his neck, breathing in the smell of his aftershave and the pinewood scent of him. one hand reaches up towards his soft locks and mindlessly plays with it.

ajax feels his entire being burning with exhilaration. while he knows how to handle his alcohol way better than you do, he is not immune to your touches. he could get intoxicated and drunk on any little thing you do.

a satisfied exhale leaves the man and he closes his eyes for moment, his nose nuzzling your cheek. the feeling of your warm palms sliding across his face pull him out of the moment before your eyes meet.

you hum, staring at him closely. “have your eyes always looked like this?” you ask.

he blinks. “like what? and why?”

“they’re so blue. i’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”

“no, they haven’t.” he answers honestly. he tries to avert his attention away from you, but your hands grab his face again.

“they’re so pretty…like the ocean…” you breathe, now poking at his freckles. “you’re so pretty…”

the man is pretty sure he’s blushing right now when you speak, rambling and comparing him like the sea. of the comforting warmth and unpredictability of the weather, all comparable to his nature—which you love.

you must be trying to kill him, because what he doesn’t expect next is for you to kiss him on the nose, and then his cheeks.

by the time he’s chasing your lips with his own, you’re pulling back, giggling quietly.

“hey, you can’t just tease like that—“ you slump against him, and he freezes, eyes widening.

“milaya?”

“…”

pulling your face back from his chest, he notes that you’ve passed out.

ajax tugs you tight in his hold, tucking your face in the crook of his neck. the smell of your hair makes his heart grow even bigger and fonder.

“by the tsaritsa, my cute girlfriend can’t hold her alcohol well,” he laughs to himself, absently tracing shapes into your lower back, “i’m sure glad this happened at home, or god knows what would happen out in public.”

he doesn’t really know if he’d be more worried about your own safety, or the things he’d do if someone dared to take advantage of you.

either way, his endless vow to protect you couldn’t be broken anyway anyhow. not even in death. he’d be loyal to you for a thousand life times.

bonus:

waking up groggily, you rub your eyes, shield them from from the unavoidable brightness of the sun.

while warm light hits your face, it only makes you feel hot and cold all at the same time. a feeling that should be welcoming only suffocates you instead as an ache converges the nerve points in your head.

“rise and shine sleeping beauty.”

you turn limply, eyes widening at the sight of ajax standing in the doorway.

“i was really hoping on you waking up soon.” he says pushing the door open further. he holds a tray of food in his hands. padding over to you he nods to the water and ibuprofen on the bedside table. “once you eat some, you should really take that.”

maybe its the sleep in your eyes or the fact that you’re not fully awake yet, but you tear up. “you’re always taking care of me.”

“yep, that is my job.” he places the food down, leaning over to kiss away any stray tears.

“thank you.”

he clicks his tongue. “what did i tell you about thanking me for things like this?”

you roll your eyes. such a stubborn man.

you quietly tell him that your brain is foggy, and while you partially don’t want to know, wish that he recall what last happened when you were awake.

“you should’ve seen how cute you were while drunk. i don’t think i could ever forget it.” he laughs once he��s done recapping.

blood rushes to your cheeks, your face aflame. “i’m not going to be able to live this down, am i?”

ajax laughs again, “don’t think so! although, being passed out for pretty much the whole day is alarming, so i don’t think we will be letting you near any alcohol anytime soon.”

your shoulders droop, “i guess that’s fair…”

“don’t be so sad! here, let me feed you!” he moves behind you, sitting down on the bed so his legs are on either side of you. his chest presses into your backside as he reaches for the food.

“‘jax i can feed myself just fine.” you say, going for the spoon, but his reflexes are faster.

“please?” he looks down at you, hoping his ocean hues favor him.

you sigh. “fine.”

the two of you sit in comfortable silence as he feeds you, and you being hungrier than you realize, finish everything quickly.

“i almost forgot! you owe me something.” he says coyly.

you frown, “huh?”

“after all that teasing yesterday…you left me high and dry…” he sniffs.

you blink, and suddenly it’s clear what he’s insinuating. “a kiss?”

“so you remember?” he asks.

you shrug, “just barely…”

“well, know that you’re aware—“ he scoots towards you, knees bumping your own before he’s pulling you towards him.

a yelp leaves you. “b-but i just ate food! and…and i need to brush my teeth!” you protest, but he’s still hovering close over you.

“so?”

there’s no use, because the minute you open your mouth to reply, ajax swoops down, kissing you wordlessly and hungrily. his tongue brief swipes over yours before he soon pulls back.

there’s a mild grimace on his face, “yeah, go brush your teeth.”

you shove him back on the bed, making him holler with laughter, “i told you!”

“it was still worth it, mila!” he shouts after you.

“fuck you.” you spit.

“with pleasure.” he smiles.

notes: my mom added too much white wine to food she made, so she’s the running inspiration for this. shout out to her!

[wabatle]

Wawawawawawawbatle i am here to req a chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, and bachira meguru ! :3

Im thinking them with a gf who like cooks and cleans and kind of like wife material? But when char ever brings it up she gets all shy and flustered

Ty!

☆~Isagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Nagi, and Reo with a wife material girlfriend

wabatle nonsense:

i added reo and then was like: well i might as well add isagi

so yeah

edit: TY FOR 100 LIKES (also 100+ notes)

warnings: none~

☆~Yoichi Isagi

Honestly…Isagi doesn't really mind what you do, he just loves you anyway

But, with you being so amazing and all, he just wants to love you more

He admires you and how quick you are to respond to things, like if he spills something you're quick to clean it up

Because of this, he wants to compliment you on a regular basis, but feels bad because of how flustered it makes you

He also loves how your food tastes, partly because it's made by you, but mostly because you make it so darn well

He can't help but tell you how good your cooking is, but he'll apologize right after because your face is so red

☆~Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri thinks you're adorable, especially when you get all red when he tells you so

So, sometimes he teases you for it, but other times he'll tell you there's nothing to be embarrassed about and that you're just amazing and then you respond with being even more flustered

I'd like to think that everyday when he's on his way home, all he can think about is getting to eat your cooking. Like, seriously, this man is on his way home thinking, “I wonder what (name) cooked tonight… whatever it is, it's gonna be so good, as per usual from my amazing (name).”

And how you keep the house clean— genuinely he couldn't appreciate you more.

☆~Meguru Bachira

Bachira literally loves this, and you, so much!!

He loves how spotless you keep the house, especially because when he helps you cook, he makes a mess

He also tends to rip his shirts and jerseys a lot, and he loves that you fix them for him so that way here can wear them again

Like Chigiri, he also literally dreams about your food. Like when you're sleeping, wake up and you'll catch him literally drooling while dreaming about your food

He also likes it when you take a cloth and wipe his face if he got dirt or anything on it while he was practicing

He would of course tease you for being so flustered, but he'll apologize in a silly way and continue to compliment you

☆~Seishiro Nagi

Nagi appreciates how much you take care of him, because he finds it to be such a hassle

So, when he gets home to find freshly made food on the table, he can't help but want to kiss you

He actually loves your food though, he thinks that you should open a restaurant because people from all around the world would come to eat your out-of-this-world cooking

And then, you clean up after him perfectly, leaving him to be able to go to bed

And he walks into a spotless room, every speck of clothing or dust taken care of

Yup… he really is gonna want to cling to you as a thank you

☆~Reo Mikage

Ughhhghfh my man

Okay but in all seriousness, he appreciates and loves you for everything!

Reo loves that you're always willing to clean, but he wishes that you would ask him to help every once in a while

He does really like coming home to a hot meal waiting for him, but he has to crash into your arms first

Then, while he's eating, he watches you clean and sweep around the house, but what he really wants is you to sit down and enjoy the meal with him

He'll tell you how much he loves you, not intending for you to get so flustered, so he'll kiss you lots as an apology, but tell you he seriously needs to compliment you

[cutielando]

i don’t know what to do ~ carlos sainz

Summary: After the news broke out that Carlos wouldn’t be extending his contract with Ferrari, it leaves you both wondering what was in store for the driver in the future, if anything at all.

Words: 1.5k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡ Nobody prepares you for the moment when your life is going to change.

There are no warnings, no signs to say “Watch Out! Your life is about to go to hell!”. There is no such thing.

You were on vacation with your fiancé, everything was going smoothly before he had to begin training for the start of the season.

Relaxing on the beach, soaking up the sun and basking in each other’s presence for a couple of more weeks before the chaos would resume.

But you didn’t expect your serenity to be completely blown out of the park with only one phone call.

You hadn’t thought anything of it when Carlos’ manager called him, having been receiving a lot of phone calls as the start of the season grew nearer and nearer. But seeing Carlos’ face as he listened was the first sign that something was definitely wrong.

It wasn’t until he ended the call that you really got a good look at him, at how pale he was and how lost his eyes were. His face held no emotion, his body rigid and his movements almost robotic.

“Amor? What’s wrong?” you took careful steps towards him, not wanting to freak him out or scare him out of his state.

He didn’t respond at first, staring at the floor and seemingly not even hearing what you were saying. He was somewhere deep in thought, not even acknowledging your presence next to him.

It worried you, the way he was staring off into space, a lost look in his eyes telling you more about his problem than he needed.

“They’re replacing me with Hamilton” you would have missed it if you hadn’t been so close to him on the bed.

At first, you thought you hadn’t heard him right. Replacing him with Lewis? Ferrari? That was not possible. Contract negotiations, to be fair, had not been going as well as you guys would have liked, but Carlos had been making progress about his contract for next season.

He had been almost confident about re-signing for another 2 years, minimum.

And yet, now everything seemed like it was for nothing. The call he had just received made his entire world crash down on top of his head, making him feel like he was drowning and there was no way out, your voice calling out to him somewhere far away, out of reach.

“Carlos, baby, I need you to talk to me” you spoke to him softly, trying to coax him out of the state he had been in for the past maybe 10 minutes.

Time seemed to stand still for Carlos, but this time, he heard you. He slowly started blinking, his surroundings coming into clear view once again. The first thing he focused on was the tight hold you had on his hand, the way your soft skin contrasted his rough ones.

Your touch, ever so gentle, lulling him back to reality.

“How could they do this to me? After everything I’ve done for this team, how can they replace me like that?” he questioned, not even knowing if he wanted an answer to his questions.

He was confused, hurt, disappointed, surprised. He didn’t know which of these feelings was more intense.

Your heart broke upon hearing the broken tone in his voice. You couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying, how it was possible that the team just stabbed him in the back like that, completely blindsiding him when they had just started figuring out the renewal of his contract.

“What am I supposed to do now?” his voice brought you back to reality, feeling him squeeze your hand tighter in his.

“I don’t know right now, but we will figure it out, like we always do. Together” you said, turning his face so he could look at you.

The moment he saw the determined look in your eyes, he slowly felt himself calming down a little. Of course, things were far from being solved, but he knew that he would figure it out with you by his side.

A couple of weeks passed since the news broke out that Ferrari would be replacing Carlos with Lewis from 2025, and the atmosphere was slowly starting to get back to normal.

Well, a certain type of normal.

After you let his entire family know about his future at Ferrari now being out of the question, Carlos Sr. had been managing the situation alongside Carlos. That involved many talks about his plans for the future, dozens of calls from team principals regarding possible contracts.

Especially after the Australian Grand Prix, almost every single team principal came calling at Carlos’ door, offering him a contract.

Your fiancé was overwhelmed, for lack of a better word. He seemed to be handling the situation fine from the perspective of someone who didn’t spend every day with him. But from your point of view? He was freaking out on the inside.

A lot of teams have approached him with both good and bad offers, some even with amazing offers any driver would take immediately.

But then why was it so hard for Carlos to settle on a team?

“Amor” you called out to him one night, seeing him hunched over some contracts in his office.

He looked up at you, tired eyes sparkling once landing on you. Your heart broke when you noticed the ever growing bags under his eyes, his forehead lined with creases. He wasn’t your Carlos, he wasn’t the happy and caring man you have come to love over the years.

You missed seeing him smile, seeing him let go of everything during his days off and just enjoying the time he would spend with his family. It seemed like your life nowadays was only filled with contracts and dozens of calls a day.

It was taking a huge toll on Carlos, and you were determined to help him out.

“What are you doing up? What time is it?” Carlos asked, confusedly looking for his phone, his eyes widening once he saw the time.

He had been huddled in his office for almost 4 hours, he even lost track of time.

“I can’t sleep without you, you know that” you explained, walking over to him and rounding the table, taking a seat on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

He sighed heavily, tightening his hold on you and resting his head against the back of his chair.

“I’m sorry, I know I’ve been absent these past few weeks. I’m just really stressed about these contracts and can’t seem to catch a break” he apologized, closing his eyes once he felt your hands waving through his soft hair.

You hummed, focused on doing everything you could to get him to relax, even if for just a couple of minutes.

“I know you’re stressed, and I get it. But you’re overworking yourself, baby. This isn’t healthy for you, you’re wasting the little time you have at home with us on these contracts and we barely see you anymore. We all miss you, the old you” you said, your tone soft.

Carlos knew you were right, he had truly been neglecting everybody except for his manager, Carlos, whom he had been on the phone with almost constantly.

He had been overworking himself, and he needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t risk losing you because he was so caught up in worrying about his contracts. You were more important than them.

“I just don’t know what to do. I feel like whatever I do, I’ll make a mistake. I don’t know who I’ll be racing with next year for the first time in my career and I don’t know how to handle it properly” he confessed, his thumbs lazily drawing circles on the back of your thigh.

“I know, but you have to take some breaks. You’re exhausted, you’ve barely been sleeping or eating. I need you to let me take care of you” you rested your forehead against his, your palm cupping his cheek.

He nodded, closing his eyes and leaning up to peck your lips.

The feeling of his lips on yours felt like a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long. You hadn’t realized just how much you had missed him, how much you were craving his touch and the feeling of his body against yours.

You pulled away, gasping for air due to the intensity with which Carlos was kissing you.

“I promise I’m going to be better. No contracts starting from tomorrow, not anymore” he promised, making you smile and nod.

You pecked his lips once again before standing up, taking his hand and leading him towards your shared bedroom. You helped him change out of his clothes and got into bed, hugging him close to you as he rested his head against your chest.

He was asleep within a minute, the calm and soft strokes of your fingertips through his hair and down his back lulling him into a much-needed sleep.

You kissed his forehead before you let yourself fall asleep as well, basking in the warmth and comfort of your fiancé.

And, at the end of the day, no matter what the future may hold, you would always have each other.

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[lunarcloak]

Blue Lock Chapter 262: Visual Storytelling

Can we talk about the visual imagery this chapter?? Kaneshiro is always cooking but Nomura cooked extra hard this time with his own illustrative storytelling

An almost entirely white panel. Except for the black spot of Kaiser's hunched figure. Almost as if he's the stain on an otherwise perfect game from BM right now. (He's thrown off balance.)

Here, in the first picture, this is Isagi's view of where Kaiser is right now. On top of a puzzle piece— a symbol of Isagi's power, and also a symbol of how off kilter he is. The second picture is part of a larger paneling of how he's being left on the ground as Isagi runs past him in a flurry of puzzle pieces. Almost as if Isagi's kicking the pieces of his perfect puzzle astray, leaving him to rebuild them from scratch. (The theme of this chapter.)

You can tell he's only barely listening. Eyes are always a huge indicator of visual storytelling— i picked this up from looking at BSD panels for too long. Here there's virtually no pupils, smaller, wider eyeballs because he's not listening to Ness's words. They're going in one ear out the other. Because Ness's words are superficial— He's trying to help, he is, but that is desperately NOT what Kaiser needs right now. He needs to figure out how to FIX this. Not to retreat back into the safety of his cocoon so that he can pretend he's still the star on the field.

NOTICE HOW EVERYTHING IN THE SECOND PANEL CAN DIRECTLY BE RELATED TO ISAGI. The offer from Reale— what if Yoichi gets it instead of me? The throne in this team— what if Isagi takes that, too? Am I about to lose everything I worked to get myself? The whole world is watching my worst performance in years. I can't lose here. I can't be defeated here. Not here, of all places, in Blue Lock.

Negative colouring. The previous, prominent memory I have of this is when Rin went to his "flow" state. It's specifically to emphasise the "HUMAN" wording. It's usually used to showcase a very prominent moment, in this case it's Kaiser realising exactly what the core of his worry is right now. It isn't the defeat, not beating Isagi, not anything. At the moment, he's afraid of losing the very humanity he had thought he clawed himself into. To emphasise this, the black and white being reversed are to indicate that time almost freezes, completely changing his perspective and line of thought at that moment.

Less dramatic, still negatively scaled panel. Emphasising how he's really digging into his psyche here and going "Oh, I'm scared. I'm afraid of losing everything I've got for myself." The last time this happened was when his secret money stash was found— he didn't care as much then, because there was nothing to lose that he hadn't already lost. But now? Now, it matters a lot more. Because he's built himself up on an entirely shaky foundation. Note how he's also sliding below here, losing his footing, like he's lost the stable ground he thought he had.

The angle of this panel makes it look like he's climbing upwards, and he's just lost his grip on the wall before him, and is in the process of falling. It's extremely well done.

Plenty people have already pointed this one out— yeah Isagi's just reached a height that's similar to Noa's. The position Kaiser thought he used to have, but now he's not even on the staircase to victory and the treasure he thought he would attain soon is now inching towards his most challenging rival to date.

You will never see him this tired, this defeated, or this melancholic ever again. At this point, his eyes are no longer that wide, shocked stare of not seeing. Now he's comprehended his stance, and he's come back into himself.

Each petal is a memory, a visual representation of the crumbling of the rose he once held. It's gone now, there's no rose in his hand anymore (nothing for him to hold onto anymore). When you have no roses in hand, you grow a new bouquet. When you have nothing, there's nothing to lose if you go reaching for something to hold onto again.

But HERE, the petals can be interpreted in two ways— either he's being reformed from the petals of a new rose (blank petals, not representative ones). OR, you can interpret it as those very petals dissipating from his being, leaving him as this black, blank slate to rebuild himself. Zero— as in no colour, no petals, no gardens to flourish anymore. Only way to move now is up.

Also I'd like to draw your attention to the negative paneling again— inverted this time, the exact opposite of the previously conveyed emotion. Now he's the one in the black, working to redefine himself. He's already redefined the external aspects.

Your Zero— Your Beginning. I LOVE this page, even if it's a repeat. It conveys so much. Kaneshiro and Nomura are such a GOOD TEAM

A black hand clasps around the core memory— the memory of when he truly had only his football. He can't let that petal float away, that's one he wants to keep. That's the idea he wants to hold onto. He crushes the petal into his hand, assimilating it into his new beginning. That's the one he'll hold onto, to recraft the person that is Michael Kaiser.

[smolvenger]

First Lady (President Loki x fem! Reader blurb)

Summary: It's not easy being in the spotlight as First Lady of the Nation. But your President's Husband knows what to do when your online critics take it too far.

Or "Who did this to you?" with President Loki.

Word Count: 1318 (blurb time)

Warnings: SMUT! 18 + (wall diddling, whee), online bullying and harassment (inspired from my own personal experience, whee) mention of sex. Angst and then fluff and hurt/comfort. I steal ideas from Ana Huang and Sadie Kincaid. Bad grammar. I had writer's block with this one and was stuck so not as revised and polished as I could be bc I just wanted this done, I'm not Shakespeare or Donna Tartt okay? If I miss a warning, please inform me at once. Don't victim blame those affected, Report it! If you see something disturbing or triggering that isn't tagged that I missed, then that is on me to take accountability for it and it is your responsibility to report it!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Dick-Tionary: The exact, more explicit smut begins at “Open wide, my dear.” and ends at "He gently let you down."

Something about the internet gave people anonymity and with that came power. They could say and do what they wanted…even the vilest things.

Comment after comment. Ding after ding on your phone. There were posts about how you were wrong. Irresponsible because they didn’t like your cause of supporting raising minimum wages. Even under posts where you were talking about the importance of your cause, so many people went “Well, to be fair-” 

You couldn’t help but look at more about you.

Stupid. 

Ugly. 

A pig.

And those were the tamer ones. 

The constant bullying and demands from these people. You thought you were qualified for this. That you knew your way around tenfold. Dolled up in your nice dress and makeup…and here you were, crying. Wanting to throw a fit. Wanting to scream and call them vile, horrible things. T sob until you couldn’t breathe and crash down, heels, pearls, lipstick and all.  No better than a little girl playing dress up. Not an adult who handled everything with strength and grace. Not a First Lady of an entire country.

You should be strong. Thick-skinned. “Don’t take it personally” was the advice everyone gave you. Every single time. Without fail. But at this point, it just numbed in your head. What did that even mean? It meant nothing. Like “thoughts and prayers” maybe at once it could help, and has helped but now…it was just a phrase people threw out that fixed nothing.  And how could you not take a comment beneath your post telling you to not take it personally?

You found yourself stumbling onto the Oval Office adn there he was- your husband in folden horns. A crowd of suited men around him.

He noticed your state. You had no time to compose yourself. But he raised a hand and their chatting voices silenced.

“Everyone! Leave- now!” he ordered, snapping his fingers.

They ducked and left. A few careful eyes at your frazzled, pensive state.

He went over and looked at you. Then he put one hand and put it under your cheek so you faced him. His voice was soft, yet subtly angry not at you, but at your tormenters. 

“My darling…who did this to you?”

You sniffed. Then you answered him.

“All of the comments…online…I know I have to. It’s part of the platform. A First Lady has to have social media…but…but…”

He wiped a tear. Then you leaned onto him. His cold buttons grazed your cheek and he let you cling to him. Let yourself break down.

“What am I even doing? Why should I say or do anything online? They just want to tear you apart and spit you out! And they just want a lady who looks pretty and does or says nothing. Even when I wear anything, they tell me I look like cat vomit. I can’t win whatever I do, Loki. And the split second I try to do anything, say anything they…they..”

“Give me your phone,” he said.

You handed it to him. From his pocket, he took out a chip and attached it to yours.

“Firstly,  I’m taking this away from you for now. You will get a new one for communication. I will not have my wife and First Lady miserable.”

 He set the chip in.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping track of them. We’re going to track them down. They’re going to regret every word of it…here…”

He sat down on the chair in the center and tapped his lap.

“Sit.”

How could you resist?

He set you on his lap. He pulled out his personal phone and immediately was making calls. You leaned into him, snuggling him close. 

“Yes, Grant, I want you to hire a Social Media manager for the First Lady. Have the comments filtered and in need of approval before posted. Also, look for security. There are several people we must hunt down. They have threatened the security of the first lady. The tracker is on her phone, we’ll analyze the data on the comments and find each and every one of them- they cannot go on without consequence, don’t you think? Freedom of Speech is overrated anyway…hurry along, do it now- no- Grant, I don’t care if you’re about to get a blowjob from the Black Widow this second, I want you to do it!”

He ended the call.

He held you. And then kissed you. You leaned in more. How handsome he looked- his suit fixed up. His smirk was confident, rakish. You found you were straddling him, his hands on your hips. As you kissed again, he pushed his tongue inside.

“Oh…Loki…”

He raised your skirt some, to feel your bare leg.

“I feel if I make you cum, that would make you feel better…wouldn’t it?”

He slid a hand and saw you weren’t wearing underwear at your hip bone. 

He tilted his head, his voice even quieter. 

“And you followed my one little rule, too. Good girl.”

He held up the phone one last time, pressing a call.

“Barton, cancel my meeting for this hour. Reschedule it. Emergency, shall we say.”

Before the man on the other end could ask why he hung it up.

He smiled at you.

“Open wide, my dear.”

Keeping your legs open, he adjusted them to wrap around him. He backed you up to part of the wall. Not caring about the curtains of the window. Not caring about the security cameras.

 In fact, let them watch if they want.

He kissed you intensely, his tongue inside and out. Tasting you. He lifted your skirt to your hips, backing you up. You hung onto him, shaking with wet, desperate need as he undid the zipper of his trousers.

“I’m going to fuck you. Fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk and live the next week curled up in the lap of luxury, how does that sound?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Please- fuck me, Loki-”

“I’m the President-” he corrected.

“Fuck me, Mr. President-” you quietly begged.

He entered briskly. You let out a loud gasp. But you were already so soaked from him, it was clear. He kissed you again. One hand going to move one of your legs to hook around his waist. 

He only slowed down so he could speak, his eyes intense. 

“Yes, moan louder. I want them all to hear- I don’t care who hears- or sees. I want them-to- to know you’re mine- My little doll. My little toy. My First Lady- my wife-”

Your breasts bounced lewdly as he picked up speed, thrusting in and out of you. He pounded you so much, the portraits shook. You held onto his shoulders, and then his horns on his head. He was grunting like a madman.

He fucked hard, his hand digging.

“I want you to cry out, say what I am as you cum. I am Loki, I am your president, I rule you- say it- say it, fuck, I’m cumming-I’m going to-say it.”

You cried his title, your throat scratchy. Pleasure breaking on you, as well as on him.

He gently let you down. You adjusted his dark curls. He smoothed your dress, though your legs wobbled. The bliss of ecstasy makes you forget what even happened just an hour ago.

“Now…how do you feel now?” he asked.

You took in a deep breath, the blood still rushing and the world spinning.

“Better…” you replied. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist. But he traced a finger down your spine, into your skirt.

“Good. Because I’m going to order some…gifts for you tonight. For you to wear beneath these dresses and skirts and blouses. And I want us to have dinner- just us. And when I rip off your clothes, that lace will be on you. Because, my dear, once this next meeting is done…we are far from over with this.”

[vinestaffery]

On pleasing demand, I am here once more to deliver more angst. Since I love it so much and so does everyone else. some bits are written from medkit's and broker's point of view at the start, but it will slowly shift to yours!! enjoy!!!

cw/tw: character death, signs of potential abuse/neglect(?), mentions of injury from another proceed with caution and care!

Scythe wasn't taking anything okay anymore, and she's gotten rougher around Medkit and Broker.

Broker would struggle handling her tempers at points where he didn't know what to do.

Medkit suggested taking a break for Scythe.

Good grief. It was a bad take and ended up bad for Medkit.

Thrown out because he suggested it, it ended up with him now staying with Sword more than with the other three.

Broker ended up leaving himself and staying with Zuka for a bit before finding a proper area to take shelter in.

Scythe was becoming more... explosive, dangerous

She was taken out of the gang! Matches a few times because she had nearly harmed Boombox to the point of recognition.

"I'm too tired to fight anymore,"

"Broker."

"We can't do anything to help her, look at her!"

"You wouldn't understand how it's like to have someone walk out on you,"

"But it just… I just can't handle it. She's gotten more worse and we are sitting here and watching."

Broker and Medkit would have long talks with eachother at nights

Their worried, really worried

Your not there anymore to help support Scythe anymore

So what's the point?

You were the light in her world, and you walked out on it.

When Vine Staff told you about the serious injury she had gotten from Scythe

You panicked.

Was she actively looking for you?

Was she trying to harm people you loved and cherished?

Vine Staff reassured you it was nothing like that at all

Infact, it was because she was upset that you had disappeared

"Dearie, you know how much Scythe appreciates you, maybe you should try approach her this time?"

You were surprised!! To see her again?

"Are you joking?"

"[…]…"

"There is barely a person in her anymore, Vine Staff."

You were deny any chances of seeing her again, but it wasn't too long till Medkit was invited over.

God was he relieved to see you

It ended up being more of a nicer talk with him rather than a forceful one

Turns out he found it understanding and that it was okay for you to leave for your own sake

But leaving out of nowhere was a no-go, specifically for Scythe

"It wasn't suppose to go this far."

"You know how she is, especially with news such as that,"

When Vine Staff had come home that one day, with a large wound, you really wished it didn't go this far to hurting a companion

"I'm too tired of this,"

"So am I, just like how I am with Subspace's worthless attempts at capturing me and taking out 'revenge,' but we can't have everything we want."

His blunt attitude always felt like home.

"She can't keep doing this, she just can't."

"Then come home, and then maybe this all can end."

You took that hope, even though you were at your wits end.

The rough sound of sizzling coming from the home was pushed over with clashing. The tension in the air was palpable as you made your way back to the source of the conflict.

The smell of burnt food wafted through the air, adding to the chaos of the situation. You knew you had to intervene before things escalated further. As you entered the kitchen, you saw the source of the conflict - a pot left unattended on the stove, billowing smoke.

"Scythe?" You called out, hoping to get their attention before the situation got any worse. The sound of footsteps approaching indicated that they had heard you, giving you a sense of relief that the situation might be resolved before any real damage was done.

"What." Scythe turned to face you, their expression a mix of annoyance and surprise. "I just got distracted; I didn't mean for this to happen," they explained, gesturing towards the smoking pot. You could see the tension in their shoulders ease as you reassured them that everything was under control.

It had looked like she had completely forgotten who you were; did she not find your presence familiar? The sound of her tail-shaker sensed an obvious threat and danger towards you. She spat with venom in her words. Her hostility grew ever more.

"Scythe, it's me," you muttered. But she continued to glare at you, suspicion evident in her eyes. It was clear that something had changed in her demeanor towards you, and you couldn't help but wonder what had caused it.

"What do you want? I thought you wanted to never see me again." Her words cut deep, leaving you feeling bewildered and hurt. The distance between you seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. You looked away in disdain.

"What? You just going to stand 'der like a lost puppy?" There was nothing familiar about this Scythe at all. She was cold—not the kind-hearted woman you used to know before. You realized that the warmth and familiarity you once shared with her had vanished. She was replaced by a sense of hostility and indifference. It was a painful realization that left you feeling lost and alone in her presence. "Scythe? What happened to you?" Your words were hard for her to comprehend. Scythe's eyes hardened, a flicker of recognition passing through them before being replaced by a steely resolve. "I've changed," She said it simply, her voice devoid of emotion. It was clear that the person you once knew was gone, replaced by someone unrecognizable and distant.

"I've changed, and I'm not even sure who I am anymore. Broker left; Medkit left. Everyone left." She placed a cold cup of alcohol down. Taking a deep breath, you tried to find the right words to reach the person who seemed like a stranger now. But as you looked into her eyes, you realized that this was a battle she was fighting alone, and all you could do was stand by and watch.

You sat next to her on the dusty bar stool. Feeling helpless, you silently offered your support, knowing that sometimes all someone needs is a listening ear. The silence between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together. "We've both changed."

"I harmed you; I broke your promise, Angel Eyes. I broke everything." Her tone spoke of long, restless nights. "We can't change the past, but we can move forward together," you whispered softly, reaching out to hold her hand. "I forgive you, and I'm here for you now." The weight of her burdens seemed to lift slightly as she squeezed your hand in return, a glimmer of hope shining in her tear-filled eyes.

"Ya, promise? Angel Eyes?" Scythe gleamed.

"Promise, Scythe. I'll never leave your side," you vowed, feeling a sense of peace settle between you both. The bond of trust and understanding between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together.

But that was only nights ago. Scythe stared at her bloodied blade as she let out somber tears. The weight of her burdens seemed to return, heavier than before; she had killed you. All because you had decided to protect the flower demon that you considered family. Something she wished you considered her.

"Angel Eyes, oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, my angel eyes." Scythe's voice trembled as she whispered your name, regret and sorrow evident in her every word. The bond you once shared is now shattered, leaving only heartache and a painful realization of irreversible consequences.

RUNS AWAAYYYY

[lemotmo]

apparently some BT fan on Twitter sent Tim some 18 minute video on BT and string theory and some stupid shit for a couple that doesn’t even have 5 minutes of screen time and he shared it so now people are giving up not realizing Tim is an agent of chaos.

Hi Nonny. I have received about 8 asks about this in the last couple of hours. I have decided to only answer yours because you are the one who seems to know the most of what actually happened.

Okay, apparently I -once again- will have to take a couple of minutes from my precious fandom life to address something that isn't even worth addressing in the first place.

But fine. Whatever.

There is only two episodes left this season. Of course the showrunners want to create as much buzz around this as they can. They want people talking and speculating about the show and the ships. It generates engagement and views and that is the one thing they are after.

Someone sent Tim this video and he was most likely charmed that a fan took the time to make a long video about something he created, so he shared it. He is known to react to messages sent by fans, so nothing new there. But of course, it also has the added benefit that it creates extra buzz for the last two episodes.

Do I have to remind people that Tim willingly shared the 'Vertigo' poster as well? That one was Buddie positive. Now he has shared something that is more Buck/Tommy positive. He is simply trying to engage fandom.

Thirdly, I haven't seen the video myself, nor do I feel the need to go look for it. But apparently the cover of that video is something like: Did 911 find the perfect match for Buck? (the question mark being very obvious) Nowhere on that cover do they talk about Buck/Tommy. (Someone correct me if I'm wrong though.)

It is an interesting question to ask the shippers in general. Did he find his perfect match in Tommy? Or maybe... it's Eddie after all? It riles up both sides equally.

So Tim is once again trolling the fandom. He does this once in a while. I wouldn't put too much stock in it. It's all fun to speculate about, but everything has been filmed already. He has known for a while now where Buck's story is going and I wouldn't be surprised that it eventually collides with Eddie's story. They were always destined to meet somewhere in the middle. Why would anyone give up on them when we are so close? I'm not giving up. Are you giving up? Why on Earth would you do that?

In conclusion: Tim's mind works in mysterious ways. So let's all just sit back, relax and see what plays out on our TV-screens. I, for one, am excited for the last two episodes of the season.

So everyone please stop worrying so much over things you can't control anyway. None of this really means anything. The only thing that matters is what we will see in these last episodes. Just enjoy the show and keep on speculating, because that's what makes fandom a great place to spend time in.

[kidrauhlschik]

Let The World Burn. - I.N. 3

In the end, he managed to forget that a king is nothing without his queen.

~

Part 1, 2, & 4 will be linked in the master list above!

Pairings: Jeongin x Reader (and some love triangles among the way.) enemies to lovers, royalty au!

Warnings: ANGST, implied smut, war, aggression, anxiety, depression, death, please let me know if i miss anything... (this was heavily inspired by the song “Let the world burn” by Chris Grey.

Word Count: 2.1K

~

Life went on as normal. Responsibilities, meetings, and building ties in court. It felt like every day was longer than the last.

Felix took some time off due to personal reasons, but now he was back in full service as your advisor and best friend. It felt great, but you couldn't help but feel distanced from the freckled man.

Bang Chan would always be there when you needed him, it's as if he had abandoned Joengin's side to be there for you. Anytime Felix left you at night to get drunk in his chambers, Chan would keep you company. Humanizing Jeongin in his own way. To you, the king was a ruthless ruler and husband, but to Chan, he was a clueless younger sibling. It was odd and incomprehensible.

One day, months after your wedding, much to your surprise, Jeongin was standing in the middle of your chambers. Dressed in his usual attire. A black suit, golden accents and chains. You have never seen him in casual wear outside of your consummation night. He's only ever seen you as a business partner.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is that a way to address your king?" He stands before you, authoritatively.

"This is how I address anyone who comes into my chambers uninvited." You stand tall as well. Not letting Jeongin make you feel small once again.

"Funny thing, you are staying in my soil, my palace. As far as I am concerned, these are my chambers." He says as he extends his arms in a show of bashfulness.

"As far as I know, this is my soil too. I am the queen. Have you forgotten that, your highness?" You say with a chuckle, almost finding his stance comedic. He hasn't talked to you in months. You'd accepted him as an acquaintance. Now he wants to come into your room to interrogate you, it seemed outrageous to you.

"That." He points at you, before he turns towards your window. "You always do that." His hands rest against the window seal, allowing his weight to rest on his shoulders.

"I am sorry my king, but I am afraid that I am not understanding what you are saying."

You frustrate him. He can’t quite put his feelings into words, but you keep him up at night. He pushes himself off the window in desperation.

"I am saying... That I do not understand how you can be so casual about everything. Despite it all, you stand tall, and stubborn. It truly gets under my skin." His voice slowly gets louder with every word. What he doesn’t say is that the way you switch from innocent and precious, to authoritative and ruthless in the blink of an eye astonishes him. It seems fake, it infuriates him.

"I apologize my king, but I am still clueless as to what is your agenda here."

"STOP!" You take a step back, surprised at his tone.

"You are scared! You are unsure! You are mad! You know how I know this? That’s because that’s what I am going through! I am going absolutely mad. Is this deal not breaking you down the same way it's breaking me?" He runs his hands through his hair, eyes wild.

"Jeongin..."

"How can you be so strong despite the circumstances? Why the hell are you always so happy and chirpy? The world is harsh, and I know that you are aware of that. I’ve seen you with your claws out." He grabs a glass from your table and fills it with the pitcher of wine next to it.

"If all hope dies, then why should I continue living?" You tilt your head while looking at him.

"That's what I mean! You are so foolish. The world isn't made of hope. This world is based on strength. Only the strongest survive." He takes the a swig from the glass of wine. “I don’t want to keep hearing your bullshit! You go on your little act of fairy godmother to the people and then you turn around and make commands in court, and if something doesn’t go your way, you throw a damn tantrum until you get your way. It never makes sense.”

"Sometimes the weakest people win from hope, When you have nothing, there is nothing to lose. Do not underestimate that my king. Also, do not make any assumptions on my character based on what you see in court, you do not know me. I am strong for the sake of my people, it is not an act." You say as you try to guide the wine glass down from his hand, but instead he gathers anger and throws the glass to the nearest wall, causing you to jump when it makes impact.

"How?" His eyes search the ground, at a loss, hoping to find some answers in his own brain. Now it made sense, the king had been drinking. You don’t know him enough to realize it at first, but now you can see. His hair out of place, his eyes glassy, and his usual calm and controlled demeanor is nowhere to be seen.

Feeling bold, you approach him, only a couple of inches away from his face. "Maybe I am foolish, but I would much rather be foolish and confident in a world of tyrants that think they know it all. The higher you stand, the bigger the fall. Do not forget that my king." You say as you leave him in your chambers.

~

After seeing Jeongin in your room, you opted for your safe space, the garden.

Just as you were about to reach the doors leading you to the west side of the palace, you encounter one of your ladies, Rose.

You expected to just curtuoly nod at her, but the second she saw you, she stopped in her tracks. "Your highness." Is all she said.

"Rose?" You responded without turning around as you passed her.

"What are your intentions in court?"

"I am sorry?" You've always been kind to those of lower class, treating them as equals. However, as a princess, you learned very quickly when someone undermines you. Their tone is more aggressive, demanding, and authoritative. The only people that you allow to speak with you in such way, are your own parents, but that was when you were still a princess under their rule. As a queen, it would take pure imurdinance for someone to speak to you in such way.

Yet, Rose stands before you, with the imprudienty of no other.

"Stop acting clueless. You came here trying to stir up the diplomacy at court. We have a way of doing things here and you think you have a right to change them?”

You finally turn to her, "I have every right to change what I please. I am your queen.”

Rose lets out a humorless chuckle, "You may be the queen but you are not my queen."

You wondered if she was stupid or just insane.

Taken aback, you respond, "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play coy, your mind games are getting to the king," that surprises you. "He won't shut up about you. Always ranting over your tantrums and schemes. You make him seem small and weak. A king does not listen to a woman."

"I am not just a woman, should I repeat myself? I am the queen. He has no choice but to listen to me if he means for this alliance to work. Either way, this is none of your concern. You are my lady, what right do you think you have in this manner?" You approach her, standing a foot away from her now. Although you stand tall and straight, she seems to match your energy. Proud and strong.

"I have a right, despite your beliefs. I am the king's mistress." It catches you off guard. Sure, you knew that Jeongin has never loved you, or even liked you, but you thought that he had enough respect for you as a royal to at least be faithful to you.

How foolish.

"Oh." Is all you can say.

"You may be the ruler of the country, but I am the ruler of his heart. your highness. He cares for you out of convenience, if you could even call it that. Just be aware, that I can see through you. You are a stranger in this court, and once I can get rid of you, you will be gone in the blink of an eye." She says with a smirk.

You raise your hand ready to strike her, but she stops your hand by holding your wrist mere inches away from her face.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. The king is rather protective over me. Be aware that he has told me that he will choose me before his rights as a first born, tread carefully queen YN." She throws your hand to the side and turns quickly to walk away.

At her words, you take a second to watch her walk away, "You as well, lady Rose."

~

You only told Felix about what happened with Rose. He tried to convince you to tell the king, but you knew he wouldn't be on your side, especially after seeing how bold his mistress was.

The word, mistress, hurt you. You should have expected it, but the glass in your world seemed to crack a bit more.

"YN, I just want you to be happy." The blonde haired man says to you.

"I know Felix, but realistically, can you see me happy here? The more I think about it, I'm going to live a life of misery next to Jeongin."

"You knew this YN." He is sitting on your bed, trying to console you.

"I don't know what I knew Felix. I thought I had something here. I thought I had pride, I thought I had dignity. Turns out, I am nothing. I am a queen by name. The king only agrees to my terms because he needs my troops. Otherwise, my country would be bare to the rest of the world. I truly don't know what to do." You sit next to him on your bed, tears streaming down your face.

"Hey hey," He holds your hand and looks into your eyes. "You are strong, you're a benevolent queen, you are respected, you do not need an immature king to acknowledge you." Felix wipes your tears away with his left hand, as his right hand hold yours. "You know I will always be here for you." In between sobs, you hold eye contact with your best friend.

Has he always been so handsome? So ethereal that his glossy eyes are enough to mesmerize you? His face, is kind, and beautiful, it's bewildering that you've never noticed that before.

If the king can have a lover, the thought of one crosses your mind.

"Felix?" Your face, inches away from his.

"Yes? Your highness?" You smile at his words, always so light hearted.

"Do you love me?" His heart stops before he could collect himself.

"Of course I do my queen." He says with no hesitation.

Your free hand reaches his face with affection, "No Felix. I am not asking you if you love me as a queen, but as a woman. You are loyal and handsome, maybe I am foolish to think that you may like me as anything other than a friend, but maybe I am feeling bold. Do you think we could be-"

Before you can finish your sentence, your chamber doors fly open.

"Where the hell is the new queen?" His voice booms through the room as if it was amplified.

You and Felix jump away from each other, the moment gone before it began.

You look towards the source of disruption, first with concern but the second your eyes lock with his, your harsh demeanor falls.

"Minho!" You shout as you run to the older mans arms, leaving Felix behind.

"Hey princess..." He whispers softly to you, "How's it been?" In response you only hold him tighter.

After collecting himself, Felix stands as well, "Isn't it rude to ignore your comrade?" He says with his arms crossed against his chest, feigning sadness.

Minho let's you go after a bit while rolling his eyes, "Yeah whatever yongbok, I missed you too."

He goes to give a hearty hug to Felix. "Nice to see you man."

"I've missed you."

Minho breaks the hug first, "Damn, it's been less than a year, why are the two of you acting so sad and proper?"

Both you and Felix look at each other before you respond, "It's been a hell of a year Min."

~

AN: Okay only two chapters left unless I make it a really long one. This was supposed to be the long one, but I worked 60+ hours this week - i did my best :/

[sgiandubh]

Hi!

Fitness anon here… 

Perks of living in Europe and having more than one kid I can actually assure you that everything a certain blogger emphasises as special we do here more or less regularly.

We drive more than two hours on a weekend to go to a beach, visit friends or basically have a nice time with family and friends away from home. Our kids are familiar with this way of life from an early age and adapt in general very well. 

Europeans are really capable of handling these kind of things all at once and we really like to have this kind of experience with our kids like a short sightseeing trip, visiting capitals of our neighbouring countries, exploring different countrysides or visiting historical places or museums.  So nothing special or unusual at all. 

But maybe for some blogger who is not interested in actual facts, it is just mind-blowing and does not fit into the agenda.

I am really sorry (not!) if I have destroyed an illusion someone wanted to create for some people. 

And also as usual - as pointed out in previous posts - all of the reels were down by herself. No doubt about it.

Dear (returning) Fitness Anon,

Thank you, as always for coming back with more witty insight. Lifestyles across the world vary and, of course, US vs Europe is no exception.

But when you are THE Troll of an entire fandom and you do have a history for being used to promote various convenient narratives, you certainly do not bother explaining these to your essentially US-based followers. Who could not care less about anything, unless it fits their own limited views, I am very sorry to say it.

I remember lots of week-ends spent with family and friends, when I was a child. Yes, even in a dark, grey Eastern European country with severe food shortages during the second half of the 80s: we made do and God, we were resourceful!

So much so, in fact, that I kept the week-end travel habit for life. Probably dozens of city breaks, at home and abroad. Never regretted a thing.

That being said, a divorced parents' child would perhaps need to keep a consistent routine of sorts. I remember the absurd fuss about it when I was one of those children, a long time ago, even if my father never wanted shared custody. He just, heh: he just left and that's it. But this is just me, maybe - still, something strikes me as odd, in all this.

And yeah, I totally agree. Clearly a dynamic duo trip: why do people have to make a whole bunch of crazy speculations about it is certainly beyond me.

Here, Anon, to say thanks for dropping by. A random sunset pic from a week-end trip to the Danube Delta. Evening boat tour on Lake Razelm, something not easy to sort out. But my fingers itch already for the wheel, all summer long. To entice all of you with off the beaten track stuff from home:

(Year is 2012, I think)

[yummycrummy]

p1 hcs becuz I am normal abt characters 

-his real name is Rick but he prefers to go by Dude (I like to think that p2's name is Rick too but we aren't talking abt him rn) 

-in his 20s (like...26 or 28???) he looks older to some people though, if he even goes out

-has severe generalised anxiety disorder, PTSD, hypochondria, schizophrenia, social anxiety, and OCD 

- has Anthropophobia, Ataxophobia, Catagelophobia, Claustrophobia, Daemonophobia, and probably way more

-started to take medication at some point but eventually stopped because he thought they wouldn't work and make him more paranoid 

-he owns guns (A LOT of them) probably like, 25. he keeps them perfectly clean and safe, stocked up on his wall or in his panic room. (we'll get to that part soon) he'd probably have a collection of other weapons too, like a bunch of knives and axes (he also keeps them very clean, obsessively) 

-owns a little radio so he can listen to MTV, music that he's into, like Nickelback, KMFDM, Judas Priest, Oingo Boingo and Black Sabbath. helps him relax when he feels like he's really losing it. (he also tries to listen in on the feds, like if they're spying on him. he's that paranoid.)

-cuddles with champ often. especially when hes in bed. he loves that puppy as much as life itself (he'd kill for him) 

-gets sunspots when hes out in the sun for awhile 🌤

-smokes pot frequently. his house probably reeks of it, and so does he lets be real

-smoking too much of the pot can fuck him up, yet he doesn't stop. he doesn't know what else to do, and he doesn't trust doctors.

-fidgets alot. holds onto his cross when hes scared or in need of comfort. bites his nails too.

-has acne scars

-sensitive to bright lights (why he wears sunglasses all the time)

-gets sick really often. all the time. almost died during a few probably

-has shit posture 🦐

-breaks things when hes overwhelmed or angry

-has a bunker/panic room in his basement. keeps way more weapons down there, including MRE's and dog food as well. he thinks about the world coming to an end and so that's basically why he built it. 

-hardly ever leaves his house. feels like the government is going to come for him, so whenever he sees a black vehicle outside, like a van, he freaks the hell out. If he was going to go out and get the mail that day you can forget it. 

-cant hold down a job for long. Idk how this man even has a house (government probably gives him money) that is until he eventually gets evicted (hope this makes sense enough im sleepy)

-can't drive even though he took his learners as a teen. he just can't. makes him more nervous and unable to focus on a lot of things at once, so he either walks or takes the bus. 

-kids would often call him a demon or pull his hair. they thought he was a freak since he never liked to be around any of the other kids, he was always off in some corner or inside at recess, so he was sadly the target of their taunts. 

-his parents weren't redheads like him (recessive genes) so when he was born his mother thought he was the spawn of the devil. she never wanted anything to do with him, as did his dad, so P1 desperately tried everything to get their attention/approval, but nothing ever worked. he eventually left home when he turned 17. 

k thats mostly it ty for reading if u did eee

[outlying-hyppocrate]

i look in the mirror. hello pretty boy. would you like to get stabbed

[biscuitscheesebiscuits]

Reading physical copies of The Queen's Thief series for the first time and realizing that the maps in them are inconsistent???

[blobpsycho]

This gif perfectly encapsulates what I love about Tome. All girls have been this gif. Like remember having undiagnosed mental issues and your family makes you go on an outing that should be fun but you’re just pissed off constantly because youre a 14 year old girl? Tome gets it.

Like YOU’RE GOING SOMEWHERE TO DO SOMETHING THAT SPECIFICALLY PERTAINS TO YOUR INTERESTS. But youre a 14 year old girl and nobody will ever take you seriously and you’ve just got this pit of hopelessness in your stomach despite the fact that nothing is technically wrong

so even though youre on an outing planned for you you can’t shake the feeling that everyone is just making fun of you for being so upset over seemingly nothing. These are your friends and family, you deep down they wouldnt do that, but why else would they go out of their way?

They certainly wouldn’t do it for you, right? I mean nothing’s even technically wrong. You’re just being a crybaby and they all must think youre just being a dramatic teenage girl. And you are and you know that you are so why can’t you just get over it and be normal?

And when you finally can’t take the pain that’s screaming in your chest because everything feels wrong wrong and everything is going wrong and everything is wrong wrong wrong you can’t help but cry. And you’re embarrassed and you’re furious and you’re supposed to be mature and you’re supposed to not care but you cry.

Crying feels worse than the growing internal discomfort did because now everyone is looking at you. They’re staring in uncomfortable suprise at what you’re sure is the most unsuprising sight in the world - a 14 year old girl crying. You want to go home but you can’t. You’re 14. You can’t do anything on your own.

You react to the terrifying ordeal of being reacted to the only way you know how - with anger. You monologue through hot tears and sobs and snot how you didn’t even wanna be here and how you just *know* everyone is just doing this to make fun of you and how they should just go on ahead and leave you wherever you are (you know this can’t happen. They wouldn’t leave a 14 year old girl somewhere unfamiliar on her own) and something in you hopes that they’ll yell back, that they’ll treat you like you’re irrational and make you feel justified in your anger.

…But that doesn’t happen. The silence persists but you realize that it’s more contemplative than judgemental. They’re not afraid of you, though you think they should be. Rather than letting them say something sentimental about caring and being concerned or any sappy bullshit that will only serve to make you cry more, you wipe your face on your sleeve continue on your journey.

The day gets better. After everyone gathers that no, you don’t wanna talk about it, it almost feels like nothing happened to begin with- besides the slight exhaustion you feel every time you blink and the intense stress sweat you choose to blame on anything else.

By the time you get home, the day is mentally logged as a good day. You decide - albeit tentatively - that maybe you’re going to be ok. Maybe you won’t be a 14 year old girl forever.

You go to bed and have the best sleep you’ve had in months.

[jadewritesficshere]

The boy is mine (Jade's edition)

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has a plan for a romantic night, but things go awry (2k words)

Contents: Anxiety, Eddie is self deprecating, hurt/comfort (kinda), no gendered terms for reader except mention that their hand is smaller then Eddie's and reader is called beautiful, a literal fire (please look up fire safety), fluff

A/N: So I saw this the first day it was posted and I thought it was a fun idea and saved the prompt by @carolmunson. I've been writing this for a bit,, but like I have had such bad mental fog and generalized pain recently I have been having a hard time focusing...I think I kind of misinterpreted the rules a bit...so here is sad lump of a contribution. Call me Stitch the way I am telling myself "it may be little and broken but still good".

18+ only

The night had started well, at least Eddie thought it had. He promised you a romantic night in. He even prepped for it.

Eddie rented sappy love movies, getting advice by Harrington and Buckley surprisingly. Harrington stated flowers were the way to go, but then started arguing with Buckley. While entertaining, Eddie learned more about the languages of romance from Buckley then he did about romantic gifts. But he wrote down to get flowers.

So he watched the movies. And Eddie was high paid a lot of attention and basically learned to make a grand speech. Big pour out your heart moment. Which, he felt he always talked your ear off, so he could totally do.

Eddie then read those magazines all the cheerleaders gossiped and giggled over. He didn't learn much except some tips for the best kiss. Cup the person's cheek and lean in slowly. Build the suspense. Eddie could do that.

Give you flowers. Make a speech. Cup your cheek as he kisses you. Eddie had this in the bag! Each point written in his little notebook.

And then the reality of you coming to his trailer hit him when you called to confirm the date was still on that morning. He hung up the phone after flirting a bit and looked around his house. Nerves flooded his system as he looked at it with the perspective of an outsider. He didn't want it to look bad. And it was, well, it wasn't bad but definitely could be cleaner.

So Eddie had vacuumed and dusted the entire trailer. Tossed empty pizza boxes in the trash. Sprayed some cologne around the trailer to cover the scent of weed, then cursed himself for using the expensive cologne when there was a bottle of air freshener in the bathroom.

Had picked up his clothes scattered across his room and shoved them all, clean and dirty, into the closet. Had made sure his bed had more then one pillow, grabbing spare throw pillows and tossing them towards the headboard. Even if he didn't think there was a chance you would enter his bedroom tonight, he wanted to be prepared.

Eddie had even started dinner before you arrived. An easy roast that Wayne had made hundreds of times. Thrown meat, potatoes, onions, and carrots into the pot, seasoned it and thrown it all in the oven.

It was newer, this thing between you, and he wanted to get it all right. You'd been friends for years, just recently evolved into dating. It was easy to hold your hand and throw an arm around your shoulder before, stealing those small intimate moments and pretending it meant something more. But now it does mean more. Truly, it always had, but neither of you had said anything. Because like usual, Eddie was the coward and ran.

He spent what felt like minutes (it had been hours) looking back at the notes, the plan. He had even sketched some pictures of you and him as he studied. Gave himself some sweet new tattoos and piercings and muscles while you had hearts around your head. By the time he stopped rereading the same points over and over again, he realized you would be there within the hour.

And he already failed the first point, flowers. It had completely spaced him what with the studying, but he had other things he had been wanting to give you so he figured he could wing it. He rehearsed everything in his mind, having various conversations with you. He would take your coat, be charming as ever, and you would fall for him even more then you already had.

But the plan immediately left his mind when you had arrived. Eddie could feel his face flush as his eyes trailed up and down your figure. All the rushing thoughts in his head suddenly stopped. All he could think was Damn, how'd I get so lucky?

"You're beautiful." Eddie mumbled in awe as you had shrugged off your coat. And then you smiled and Eddie realized he had messed up the plan. He thought he had went through every variable but he hadn't. It wasn't you that was going to fall more in love with him tonight, but Eddie was going to fall more in love with you.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, unable to meet your eyes. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and his palms were begin to sweat. He couldn't help but shift from foot to foot. "Oh I uh....got you something," Eddie smiled and turned to leave before hesitating and motioning to the couch," You can uh sit...or stand, standing is good too! I'll be right back."

Eddie cursed himself the whole time he walked away because of how stupid he was. He could stage elaborate campaigns but couldn't seem to form a single sentence in your presence. Eddie grabbed the gift off his dresser and inhaled slowly, mentally yelling at himself to be cool for once in his life.

And faltered in his steps.

Because you were sat on the couch. Not just on the edge of the cushion like those who he dealt to who couldn't wait to get out of his presence. No, you were fully relaxed into the cushion. You looked comfortable. You looked like you belonged.

And Eddie couldn't squash the butterflies that took flight in his stomach. And he sat on the cushion next to you, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms and hold you close.

"I got you this," Eddie declared as he handed you a rock. A small, smooth stone that fit in the palm of your hand. Your mouth parted but no words came out. Eddie bit his lip as you slowly turned the stone over in your hands, staring at it.

"I saw it and I thought, well, I thought of you and it matches your eyes and-" Eddie huffed out a laugh and shook his head," Sorry, it's stupid just give it back."

Eddie moved to grab it out of your hand but you slapped at his arm and clenched the stone in your hand. "No, it's mine!" You held your hand to your chest and glared at him. "It's stupid," Eddie looked down. "It is not." "It is!"

"Are you serious? If you don't stop we're gonna have a problem. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me." You beamed at him. Joy and adoration written clearly across your face. Eddie slowly grinned back as you dared to open your palm and look at the stone again. "My precious," you wiggled your eyebrows at him, making him bark out a laugh as he relaxed.

"Let's save a ring for a later date." He joked, even as his mind raced. You quoted Lord of the Rings! You were sitting on his couch holding a rock he thought was the same shade as your eyes and you liked it!! He was done for. Completely head over heels fallen for you. Said he would never marry yet here he was planning his vows and everything.

"Seriously, Eddie, this is so sweet." Your hand grasped his. Your hand was smaller then his, fitting perfectly. Fingers interlocked hesitantly and then more surely. Eddie's eyes fell to your lips. Your tongue darted out slightly and wet them. And he started to lean in.

The air was thick, and not just with the tension, the anticipation. Your lips were milliseconds to coming in contact with his when Eddie's nose twitched as he caught a familiar scent. Your lips landed on Eddie's cheek as he turned so quickly to face the kitchen he gave himself whiplash.

Thick smoke started to waft out of the room. "Oh fuck!" He jumped up as the smoke detector finally started doing its job and screeched out an annoying beep. Eddie ran into the kitchen with you hot on his heels.

Eddie opened the oven door, smoke billowing out," SHITshitshit-" Eddie cursed as he slammed the door shut, coughing slightly. Your hand reached past him to shut off the oven before darting over to the window and throwing it open.

Eddie's eyes darted to the sink below the window. Stop, drop, and roll- wait no that was if you were on fire. But water beats fire in almost every scenario, right? Except oil, shit did he add oil? No, he didn't add anything except the food and the seasoning so it should all be good right?

"Stand back!" Eddie yells over the screeching alarm. Grabbing the pot holders, he throws the oven door open. Smoke billows past him as he makes a mad dash for the pot, grasping the handles and throwing it in the sink. He throws the faucet on, water pouring over the burnt food and pot.

Steam billows up with smoke, mingling in the air before flowing out the window. A hissing sound from the cool water hitting the hot pot fills the air. You fan the flames towards the open window. "Oh fuck." You cough as your eyes fill with tears from the smoke. Eddie winces as flurried apologies fall from his lips.

The pot, not on fire at least, starts to lessen up on producing smoke. Eddie deems it safe to leave and grabs your hand, dragging you outside. His hands on your shoulders guide you to sit on the steps as you continue to intermittently cough. Eddie rushes back into the kitchen, double checking that the oven was off, and quickly grabs a mug holding it under the still running faucet.

Eddie rushes back outside to you, almost missing the step and face planting. And wouldn't that have been the icing on the cake. Would that make Eddie or the embarrassment of faceplanting be the vanilla frosting? Who even created that saying? Cake was good and this was not good. Eddie shook his head of these thoughts as he sank down on the step next to you.

Eddie hands you the mug of water. You drink it in big gulps, a small dribble of water falling out of the side of your mouth towards your chin. Eddie wipes it away with his thumb as he apologizes," I am so sorry, I don't even know what happened."

"Is this Garfield?" You peer at the mug, as if Eddie almost didn't kill you. "Uh yeah, was in a rush, sorry I didn't grab like a nicer cup. I just ran out...to you..." "Don't apologize, I like Garfield," you mumble taking another drink of the water.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, hands running up and down your shoulders, eyes checking you over. "Think I hacked up a lung from all the smoke...," you rub your sternum," Man, my lungs do not like smoke...and you like that?" Eddie let out a nervous laugh," Yeah no sorry, only when its weed. Never really inhaled a straight fire before."

You look up into Eddie's eyes that are full of concern. "Well, I'd recommend like not doing that. But I'm okay, it startled me more then anything," You give a soft smile. "You sure?" "Positive." You knock his shoulder with yours.

Eddie's eyes search your figure, ensuring you aren't lying to him. You ignore him, opting to set the mug down on the ground. Fingers brushing against a dandelion, yellow and bright. You pluck it from the ground and twirl it between your fingers.

You're okay. You're holding a dandelion and you're okay. You aren't acting like you hate him. You aren't making excuses and leaving. You aren't leaving like everyone else-

Eddie's shoulders relax as the tension leaves his body. You're okay. Your relationship is okay. He didn't ruin everything. You're smiling at a fucking dandelion while his heart feels like it has run a marathon.

You're oblivious to his plight as you lean over and tuck the dandelion behind his ear," Maybe don't smoke that. Looks pretty on you." "Not that kind of weed." "Yeah dumb joke sorry."

A slow exhale escapes him as he shakes his head,"No it's good I'm just," Eddie waves his hand in front of him," like what the fuck just happened? I am never cooking again. I'll just take you to Enzo's. I fucked up. Sorry for ruining the date."

Your hand cupped his cheek as you ducked down to meet his eyes," Hey, no. You didn't ruin the date." Eddie rolls his eyes slightly," Almost killing you? Yeah, pretty sure i ruined it." You bump your knee against Eddie's, "it's not ruined and you didn't almost kill me. Small food fire, happens to everyone. I lit popcorn on fire once. Besides, if you did happen to kill me, at least I would have died happy and in love. And you'd be stuck with me cause ghost me is absolutely haunting you."

Eddie can't help but laugh slightly," Oh? You think you'd be a ghost and not get another chance at life? Be reincarnated or whatever?" "Well, even if I was reincarnated, I'd find you again."

Eddie scoffs, "C'mon, don't say that.. That's not even true, you'd totally be able to move on. You wouldn't need little old me." You grab his face and peer into his eyes," Eddie Munson, I will always need you. In this life and whatever happens after. You and me? We're it. Maybe it should be too soon to say, but I feel it in my bones. You're it for me Eddie. Together now, forever, and when everything ceases to exist we'll be in nothing together. I will always be with you because I will always love you."

You lean in and Eddie thinks his heart stops. Your hand holding his cheek in place, thumb lightly brushing back and forth. His eyes flutter shut as your lips finally touch his. It was soft and sweet, lips slowly parting and melding together in a dance that sent shivers down Eddie's spine. He sighed into the kiss as you leaned closer into each other. Your hands threading through his hair, his wrapping around your waist. Lips moving in tandem, tongues darting out tentatively.

You only part when you both are gasping for air. Soft smiles and longing glances shared as the sun sets. "I love you too." Eddie traces your cheekbone with his finger. "You better." You joke. Your combined giggles fill the air as you continue to steal kisses from each other.

The night may not have been the most romantic. Or gone to plan, like, at all. But it was one Eddie already knew that when he thought about he would be able to feel his heart swell with love. And as he kissed you Eddie thought, yeah you were it for him.