#i guess i'm just going through a rough patch

[the-way-astray]

What's your favorite cannon thing you truly like about Keefe Sencen

I DARE you 😈

i've been dared . . .

definitely my favorite thing is the fact that in flashback/legacy he was 100% not only supportive of sophie and fitz's relationship despite having a crush on sophie, but also actively tries to keep sophie from doing something that could even be interpreted as implicative. there was a poll a while ago about whether people thought sophie and keefe were (even unintentionally) emotionally cheating on fitz, and i answered a hard no. and the main reason for that was because of keefe. he does so much to try to keep sophitz together during that time, including telling sophie to confide in fitz, telling her to tell him about the matchmaking thing, shutting ro down (or at least doing his best to), and generally speaking, he did not have to do all that. like, yeah, any decent person would be supportive and not actively try to break their two friends in a relationship up, but keefe goes way beyond that and actively tells sophie exactly what to do in order to keep her relationship with fitz intact. every time fitz "catches" him with sophie it's lowkey painful to think about what keefe must be feeling because he spends so much time trying to prevent that exact thing from happening. there's even a line in legacy where sophie admits this herself. one of the only times he uses his empathy not dubiously is at the end of legacy, where sophie "tells" him (i use the term loosely) that she and fitz broke up. and he immediately says "i'm sorry", expressing out loud his sympathy for their relationship's end.

(one thing i've heard people misinterpret a lot in anti keefe things is the "blond hottie" line, which they say is an inappropriate thing to say about someone in a relationship. that was not said by keefe. that was said by ro. she says that when she's trying to convince sophie that bronte can't be her bio dad, to which keefe then says "unless she gets that from her mom". that's all he says. sophie then wonders whether that meant he agreed with the blond hottie assessment, but that doesn't come from anything he actually says.)

it surprises me that i haven't seen keefe lovers talk more about the fact that fitz literally commissioned him to draw him and sophie in a very romantic pose in a very romantic spot and keefe did it. so i'm going to talk about it. once again, this is not just baseline "my crush is in a relationship, oh well, guess i won't interfere" stuff. this is going above and beyond to keep sophie and fitz together. again, keefe has a crush on sophie. i'm not an artist, but obviously art doesn't just pop up out of thin air. he spent some time making that drawing. and all that time is yet another reminder that his crush is in a relationship. he could've told fitz no, made up some excuse as to why he couldn't do it, and that would've been well within his right. but he didn't. so that's a thing worth mentioning. (i'm going to just say i don't like the argument that fitz knew what he was doing when he asked keefe for the drawing, though. i think fitz just thought "sophie likes keefe's drawings! let me get her one of those" which is sweet in and of itself.)

in unlocked, keefe thinks something like "he definitely should not be happy that two people close to him were going through a rough patch. but, if he was being honest, he wasn't really sad" or something to that effect. and i like that. he has a crush on sophie, so of course part of him will be happy she's now single again. it's realistic. i've definitely talked about this before, but jealousy isn't a character flaw to me. it's only the actions that a character does because of their jealousy that defines whether or not it's a bad thing. but the thing with keefe is that he never allows the fact that he likes sophie to outwardly affect sophie and fitz's relationship in any negative way when they're tentatively dating. sophie and fitz fell apart for a lot of reasons, but the reasons were entirely on sophie and fitz, and had nothing to do with keefe himself. in fact, you could argue they only lasted as long as they did because of keefe.

i complained a lot about how much he doesn't shut up about his hair in my rant. but that was mostly at his humor style and the fact that he literally talks about it at the weirdest times (in his registry file . . . ) more so than the fact itself. and truthfully, he doesn't even talk about it that much. but i think it makes a lot of sense that he takes pride in it. it's the physical manifestation of rebellion against his parents who have controlled every other aspect of his life. he's also an artist, and i think it's a pretty neat thing that that extends to the way he styles his hair. also it looks good. i will die on this hill. just don't look at the laura art. jason chan is my king and keefe's hair is very cool and- *gunshot*

there's also a handful of moments where keefe uses his humor appropriately, to ease tension. best example i can think of is the one katie brought up in this post which is the moment in flashback right before the celestial festival (climax). magnate leto gives them all these sparkler things to light if they're in danger, and keefe sets off a couple prematurely "just to make sure they work" *wink wink nudge nudge* and sophie specifically says the "bit of levity" helped tame the "monster" she's been battling the whole book. when he's able to use his humor appropriately, and not at weird times about weird things, he can be a valuable source of comfort. these moments are unfortunately few and far between, but they do exist.

keefe is also good at calming sophie down when she's panicking, when he's not using his empathy to force her to tell him her feelings. i personally like it more when he's comforting her using his words than his emotional breezes, because that speaks more to his personality than it does to his ability to use his emotional breezes to calm her down. another example katie discusses in the post above is when he's talking to her about the bronte-is-her-bio-dad theory. sophie was panicking because she was thinking about the implications of it (prentice, him acting horrible to her, etc.) and keefe brings her back down to earth with his reassurances that this doesn't change anything about her. when she says bronte can't know she knows, he immediately gets her to reconsider in a gentle way, because like. that's the entire point of her search for her bio parents. he does all this using his words (actually i just checked and he does use his emotional breezes a couple of times but his words do have an impact on their own so we're disregarding that), which does prove that he's very good at knowing what to say to keep her calm.

(also the fact that he was even helping her search for her bio parents is another example of him going above and beyond to keep her relationship to fitz intact. he didn't have to do that at all.)

and lastly, i think i mentioned this in my rant and maybe a couple other places, but i think keefe's jealousy when it comes to family is written very realistically. in neverseen, he's jealous of fitz, biana, sophie, and dex when they hug their parents, and there's a line where he specifically says "i hate watching it. them and della" (them referring to fitz and biana). in unlocked, he's again jealous of dex's family and wishes he'd been born into a family like his. and i think that's written really well. it's pretty subtle and not really shoved in your face, too. i'm pretty sure there's a total of three times it gets brought up: the "them and della" line, one line at the end of neverseen where sophie and dex are hugging edaline and kesler, and then the line in unlocked. very blink and you miss it but i like that. it's one of the few things the narrative doesn't dump a truckload of pity on keefe for, and it makes the few times it is brought up even sadder.

oh, and also i think he's handsome. sue me.

[callsign-bunnie]

Nicknames for the different friendships in COD

I’m leaving common ships out. (Also please don’t take this seriously)

Rodolfo and Soap: Chaos twins. Everyone has to fight to keep them away from the bombs during missions because blowing something up is their solution for everything

Alejandro and Ghost: Dumb and Dumber. They are so fucking smart but when they do anything non mission related, they’re both idiots

Price and Gaz: A father and his child. Even Price and Gaz have stopped denying they act like father and son

Price and Laswell: Mom and Dad. No explanation needed

[cerealbishh]

"You really care about me."

"Yeah. I really, really care about you."

"I- I really care about you too."

"No, but... I like, really, really care about you."

[joyful-soul-collector]

Woke up this morning to a text from my oldest, closest online friend who'd ghosted me a few months ago telling me they'd been cruel to ghost and ignore me like that, but that our friendship had long run it's course, and we were too different now. They said talking to me felt like a chore and wasn't enjoyable anymore. They hope the rest of my life goes well, and they enjoyed the times we had together, but it's time that they left. Then they blocked me on everything, so I can't even say goodbye back.

Idk who needs to hear this but just because you're different people now, doesn't mean you can never speak to each other again. I would've been perfectly happy to catch up with them once or twice a year, or even less than that. I would've sent them my book since they'd been there encouraging me ever since I started writing it. I would've met up with them when I finally got the chance to go to England, and I would've been able to give them the painting I made for their birthday in person. I would've read their books when they published them, I would've loved to just have been able to be casual old friends, even though we're not what we used to be because that's just what happens in life.

Ghosting me and blocking me on everything doesn't make things better. It just made it so the end of our friendship was permanent, and that reconnecting again isn't possible anymore.

What a frustrating way to throw out 4 years of friendship

[doumadono]

doumaaaa! luv ur writing! could ya make dabi x nurse reader? basically him 'seducing' her or smth?

Warnings: smut w/o plot, semi-public, rough smut, pussy fingering, nurse!reader, Touya being Touya, creampie, dubcon

A/N: this request got the highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll I held. I must admit, the difference between this prompt and the second-highest voted one was incredibly small! Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital seemed to flicker in time with the steady beeping of monitors. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee that had become your lifeline through the long shifts. 

You were used to the routine, the endless cycle of patients coming and going. But nothing could have prepared you for him.

Dabi. Or rather Todoroki Touya. The infamous villain, arrested after the chaos of the Paranormal Liberation War. His capture had been nothing short of a miracle - or perhaps, a well-calculated move. 

The new burns that marred his body, the very marks of his quirk, had left him in dire need of medical attention. 

And you, as the head nurse of this ward, had been chosen to treat him.

You approached his room with concern. 

The door slid open with a whisper, revealing the man who had caused so much destruction. He lay on the bed, his body a patchwork of scars and fresh bandages. His turquoise eyes, like chips of ice, flicked up to meet yours, assessing and unyielding. Metal restraints bound his wrists and ankles to the bed, a necessary precaution against the notorious villain. “Here to patch me up, nurse?” His voice was rough, a dark rasp that sent shivers down your spine.

You forced a calm smile. “I’m here to make sure you don’t fall apart any more than you already have.”

He chuckled, a low, almost menacing sound. “Good luck with that, bitch.”

Setting your tray of supplies on the table beside the bed, you began your work in silence. 

The burns on his body were severe, some still fresh from recent battles. You carefully removed the old dressings, your fingers gentle yet efficient. Despite your attempts at professionalism, you couldn’t ignore the heat that radiated from him, a constant reminder of the power he wielded.

As you applied a cooling salve to his burns, you felt his gaze on you, intense and unwavering. “What’s your name, nurse?” he asked suddenly.

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, tasting the syllables. “A pretty name for a pretty nurse.”

You ignored the flush that crept up your neck, shaking your head slightly. 

He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why so cautious, sweetheart?" Dabi's voice broke through the silence, raspy and teasing, as he watched you with an amused smirk. "Afraid I might bite?"

You met his gaze steadily, the corner of your mouth twitching into a small, resigned grimace. "I'm not afraid of you," you replied, adjusting the flow on his IV. "I'm just being professional. And you called me a bitch moments earlier, so don’t expect me to become more friendly towards you."

Dabi chuckled, the sound low and husky. "Professional, huh? I guess that's a first for me. People usually just want to fix me up quickly and get rid of me."

The casual way he spoke of his own status made you pause. "Everyone deserves proper care," you said, securing the IV line. "No matter who they are."

That seemed to catch him off guard, and for a moment, he just stared at you, something flickering behind his eyes before he masked it with another smirk. "You’re different, aren’t you? Not scared, not judgmental. Just doing your job."

You shrugged, feeling his intense gaze as you checked his chart. "That's what I'm here for."

He watched your every move, noting the efficiency and confidence with which you worked. It was clear you weren’t easily intimidated - a trait he found both intriguing and useful. “I suppose it’s your job to keep an eye on me too, huh? Make sure I don’t do anything foolish?”

“Something like that,” you admitted, adjusting the monitor beside his bed. 

His heart rate was steady, too steady for someone who should be in pain. Suspicion flickered in your mind.

“It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? A nurse looking after someone who can burn down entire cities.”

“It is,” you agreed quietly, meeting his eyes. “But pain is pain. Healing is healing. It doesn’t choose sides.”

“Philosophical for a nurse,” he chuckled, shifting slightly. His chains rattled, a jarring sound that matched the slight grimace of pain his movements brought.

“You’d be surprised what you learn in this job,” you responded, checking the restraints to ensure they were secure, a mandatory procedure that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

Two nights later, you approached Dabi’s hospital room, a mix of anxiety and anticipation thrumming through your veins. 

The night was quiet, almost oppressively so, the sterile hallways of the hospital washed in the dim glow of emergency lighting, casting long shadows that flickered softly.

The two guards who were always stationed at the door to Dabi's room and had become a constant fixture in the hallway - silent, stoic sentinels in the muted chaos of the hospital, were absent. Their absence was as puzzling as it was alarming. No explanation, no trace of their whereabouts, just an empty space where they should have been standing guard.

As you reached his room, the usual sound of the monitoring machines greeting you was conspicuously absent. A cold wave of unease washed over you. Pushing the door open fully, you stepped inside, your eyes immediately drawn to the bed that had become so familiar over the past few days.

It was empty.

For a moment, you stood frozen, your mind racing to catch up with what your eyes were seeing. The sheets were askew, tossed aside rather than neatly arranged by a nurse. The heart monitor was silent, its screen dark. Most telling of all, the metal chains designed to secure the villain, to prevent exactly this scenario, lay on the floor, melted into twisted, useless strips of metal.

Panic knotted in your stomach as you hurried forward, searching the room for any sign of him. You checked the bathroom, the small closet, even under the bed, though you knew it was futile. 

Dabi was gone. 

There was no sign of struggle, no alarm raised - it was as if he had simply vanished into the night, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of his presence.

Questions raced through your mind. How had he escaped? Did he plan this all along, or was it a spur-of-the-moment decision driven by some unknown factor? 

Suddenly, the light that was pouring into the room was cut off as the door swung shut with a soft, definitive click. 

A brief moment of tense silence ensued, broken only by the familiar sound of a tongue clicking. Then, a characteristic, raspy voice followed, tinged with a teasing undertone, "Well, hi there, little nurse."

Fear gripped you, paralyzing every muscle in your body. You knew well that Dabi was right behind you, yet the terror that washed over you made it impossible to turn around. Your breath hitched in your throat, heart pounding furiously against your chest as seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. 

Then, a confirmation of his presence came - not through words, but through the rough, unmistakable touch of his hands as they settled on your shoulders.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, his voice a blend of malice and allure. “You know, there’s a lot of things I’ve been thinking about doing to make myself feel better,” he murmured, his tone dripping with a dark, seductive edge. His fingers tightened around your wrists, not enough to hurt, but enough to assert his control. “And since you’re the nurse, always so eager to help, you should be willing to assist with my recovery.”

His words were laced with a mocking sneer, yet his touch wandered with a boldness that betrayed his intent. He was provoking you, testing how far he could push before you’d snap or succumb. Dabi’s hand traced a path up your spine, sending shivers through your body despite your resolve. “I can think of a few therapies that might help,” he continued, his voice low and husky, teasingly listing his twisted desires. “Imagine, all the things you could do to ease my pain, to make me feel alive. Wouldn’t that be fulfilling your duty, little nurse?”

Every fiber in your being screamed to pull away, to reclaim your space and autonomy, yet his presence was overwhelming, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

“You should thank me,” Dabi chuckled darkly, his lips barely grazing the curve of your ear, sending an involuntary shudder through you. “Most don’t even get the chance to hear my voice. They’re not quick enough. Never as quick as my flames,” he taunted, his tone dripping with mockery.

You gasped. His mockery stung, a stark reminder of the dangerous game that played out between you. “How?” you whispered, barely moving your lips.

Dabi's low laugh resonated close to your ear, a sound that mixed amusement with a sinister edge. “Curious, are we?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I just turned up the heat a bit.” His smirk was palpable in his voice as he recounted his escape with a nonchalance that belied the danger of his actions.

Your heart pounded, the implications of his words sinking in. “And the guards?” you managed to ask, your voice a whisper of sound, betraying your fear.

Dabi’s tone took on a sharper edge, his amusement soaring into something darker. “There was some commotion, some urgent cries over their radios, something about a threat to the hospital staff. They ran off to play heroes.” His hand tightened slightly on your forearm, his fingers pressing into your skin as he leaned closer. “Perfect timing, wouldn’t you say? Gave me just the right moment to melt away those pesky chains and walk right out. It was almost too easy.”

Dabi smoothly spun you around to face him, his movements precise and fluid. Catching your chin between his index finger and thumb, he gently tilted your head up to meet his gaze. The touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of his usual demeanor. "You're quite pretty, you know," Dabi murmured, his eyes scanning your face with an appreciative glint. "Even with those dark circles under your eyes." His thumb brushed lightly under your eye socket, his touch featherlight. "It tells a story, doesn't it? All those long hours spent caring for people like me."

Touya smiled, a wry, knowing smirk that hinted at his awareness of the toll his words took on you. "Working too hard, aren't you?" he mused, his gaze lingering on your face as if committing every detail to memory. "Caring for the broken, the dangerous. It's a heavy burden for such delicate shoulders. But what if I told you I want more than just professional care?"

Gathering every ounce of courage, you met Dabi’s intense gaze. “Please, let me go,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone. I'll keep quiet. You'll have time to get away from here.” 

The plea hung in the air between you, underscored by the palpable tension that seemed to stretch out endlessly. Your eyes locked onto his, searching for any sign of compliance or compassion, hoping he would see the sincerity in your offer and realize it was his best chance to escape without further complications.

Dabi chuckled.

You felt a cold wave of fear wash over you, but you refused to let it show. "And I'm not here for your entertainment," you said, your voice steady despite the panic rising within you.

Dabi's laugh echoed through the room, a dark, menacing sound. "Oh, I know that," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you see, I'm not exactly in a position to ask nicely." His hands moved to your waist, pulling you back against him. 

You could feel the heat of his body through your overall, a constant reminder of the power he held. "Let me go," you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Dabi's grip tightened, his breath hot against your ear. "But what if I don't want to?" he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You struggled against his hold, but it was like trying to move a mountain. "Please," you pleaded, your voice breaking. "You don't have to do this."

Dabi's grip loosened, his hands sliding down your arms. "But what if I want to?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt his lips against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. You gasped, your body betraying you as a shiver ran down your spine. "Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He shook his head for no. His hands moved to the buttons of your uniform.

You felt the fabric of your overall give way, the cool air of the room brushing against your exposed skin. Dabi's hands moved to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. His hands were oh so warm...

You gasped.

Dabi's laugh was low and dark. "You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his fingers continuing their assault on your nipples.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan. "Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Dabi's hands moved to your waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants before tugging them down. "Please what?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You hesitated, your mind racing. You knew you should tell him to stop, but your body had other ideas. "Please, don't stop," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dabi's laugh was low and triumphant. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his hands pulling down your pants.

You felt the cool air of the room brush against your exposed skin, your body trembling with anticipation. 

Dabi's hands moved to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you back against him, making you arch your back slightly. 

You could feel his cock, hard and insistent against your ass.

Dabi's hands moved to your thighs, spreading your legs apart. 

You felt his fingers brush against your wetness, a low moan escaping your lips. 

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan.

Dabi's fingers worked fast, pushing the material of your thong aside, and soon they moved inside you, his thumb pressing against your clit. 

You moaned even though you hated yourself for this, your body was trembling with pleasure.

He teased you slowly, his fingers moving in and out, drawing out your moans with every thrust. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake. He didn’t stop himself from leaving a hickey here and there.

You arched against him, your body pleading for more. "Please," you gasped again, your voice breaking.

“Hush,” he whispered, licking a trail up the column of your neck. He pumped his long fingers in you, faster and faster, enjoying all of the sounds you made, just for him. Finally, his fingers withdrew, and you felt a momentary loss before his hands gripped your hips, turning you to face him. His eyes burned with an intense heat as he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as your arms wrapped around his neck.

You could feel his dick, straining his pants, pressing against your slick, naked pussy, and instinctively, your hands moved to his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Dabi's left forearm slipped under your ass, easily securing you in place as his other hand joined yours, and together you managed to free him, the hard length of his dick springing free.

With a swift motion, he aligned the tip of his cock with your dripping entrance, and pushed it up so the head went in between your delicious outer labia. Finally, he slowly shoved himself into your dripping vagina. 

As soon as he entered you, your eyes and mouth both opened wide. You looked like you were in disbelief that you were actually doing this. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his rhythm slow yet deliberate. “Gosh…” Your pussy was stretching painfully to accommodate him. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, his name falling from your lips like a mantra. You hated yourself for that.

His scarred lips found yours, capturing your moans as his pace quickened, each movement driving you closer to the edge. “Fuck. So fucking tight. I love how wet and tight you are f’me,” he growled, pecking your cheek.

You could feel yourself tightening around his cock, your climax building with every hard thrust he delivered. You gasped against his lips. 

Dabi took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, then suck on your bottom lip, all while completely inside you. He began to bounce you on his cock faster, each upward thrust hitting deeper than before, the tip of his throbbing dick brushing against that sweet, spongy spot deep inside you. 

The feeling of being suspended and at his mercy driving you wild. You rolled your hips to meet his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes,” you whined. You were painfully aware you acted like a cheap whore, but you didn’t mind at the time.

The friction between your bodies created a heat that was almost unbearable, every movement bringing you closer to the edge. His warmth of course added to the sensation. And his cock was oh so hot.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "So desperate, so needy. Fucking bitch." He pulled his cock out until only the tip remained between your parted, lower lips, then slammed his hips back against yours, burying himself in your pussy to the hilt of his shaft.

You couldn't respond, your mind lost in the overwhelming sensations. You could only moan, the sound echoing in the room as he continued to bounce you on his cock, the pace quickening. You were trembling in his arms, even though you shouldn’t. Your boobs were swaying forward and backward as he fucked you raw.

“Be fucking quiet, little nurse, or the guards will hear us if they’re back,” he slapped your cheek, and grunted as his balls hit the curve of your ass yet again.

Your bodies made a wet smacking noise each time, and Dabi could see strands of your fluids spider-webbing between your skin each time he pulled away from your heated, dripping core. 

Your tits, still in your bra, pressed firmly against his chest as you leaned into him, already breathless. Your head rolled forward, resting against the crook of his neck where his marred skin was exposed. “Mmmm…. Mmmmm…. I’m gonna… I can’t anymore….” Your pussy clenched around his cock in anticipation, and a growl rose in your throat.

Your needy, seductive voice worked its magic on the scarred man. 

Dabi's head fell back, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips as he came, spilling his thick seed deep within you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm, his thrusts growing sloppier and more frantic. “Fuck, take it, bitch, take it all.” 

With Dabi’s cock nestled within your core, you felt every pulse as he reached his climax. Every pulse and eruption of cum filling your tight pussy sent twin waves of pleasure and a wonderful, comforting warmth through your entire being, and three or four pulses in, you found herself cumming as well, pussy spasming and clenching around Touya’s  cock, milking it of his wonderful, hot cum.

You felt his cum filling you to the brim and beyond, and spilling out of you, dripping to the floor, even though you two were still connected.

Dabi's hands moved to your waist, his fingers gentle as he pulled out of you. He gave himself a few more jerks before grabbing your overall and wiping his flaccid cock in it. After that, he tossed your uniform aside, and improved his pants and belt. Dabi's voice was low and dark as he spoke. "You're quite the little slut, aren't you?"

As you hastily tried to dress, your cheeks burning with a mix of emotions, you muttered, "It was a moment of weakness…" Your gaze drifted nervously toward the door, half-expecting it to burst open at any moment.

Suddenly, Dabi was before you again, his presence imposing. His hand shot out, capturing your cheeks with an intensity that made you wince. He squeezed firmly, his eyes burning into your very soul as he seethed a harsh reminder, "Not a word until five minutes pass. Understand?" The threat in his voice was unmistakable, echoing in the charged air between you.

Releasing your face, he moved swiftly to the window with the fluid grace of a predator. His silhouette framed against the dim light from outside was both menacing and mesmerizing. As he swung one leg over the sill, he paused, turning to fix you with a piercing look. "You'll never be rid of me, not until death takes me." His words hung heavy in the room, a promise or a curse. Then, he jumped out, vanishing into the night like a ghost. 

You stood frozen, the imprint of his fingers still tingling on your skin, his final words echoing in your mind. You waited, counting each second of those five minutes he had demanded. You were scared to see him again, yet part of you wondered, perhaps even hoped, for that very possibility.

[giddyfatherchris]

📱skz texts —how they react/comfort you (when you're going through a rough patch with a friend)

| including. bang chan, lee know

warnings. mentions of homophobia, anxiety and depression (but not going in depth with any of these subjects)

a/n. FINALLY!! channie and lee know’s part babyyyy honestly i kept procrastinating but today i decided enough is enough.😤 again, these are not in order but i cannot be 🎶booOoOoOthereeeddd🎶 so :) hope you enjoy mwah xxx

changbin, seungmin & i.n

hyunjin, han & felix

Lee Know

He knew from your texts you were not in your normal state. You were usually such a bubbly person, but when you answered so drily to his questions, he knew something was wrong.

As he waited for you to come home, he couldn't help but pace in his apartment. You weren't living together yet, but you spent so much time at his flat that you claimed it as your second home comfortably. In the 15 minutes it took for you to arrive, Lee Know had prepared himself for many scenarios, but he could have never predicted how you opened harshly the door and slammed it shut. Your ritual of crouching on the floor, calling for his three cats, was brutally ignored as you stomped to the kitchen.

"Hi, baby." He tentatively tried. Cautious, he kept his distance as you grunted in answer. You opened the fridge door, looked for a milli second before you closed it, then repeated the same process with the pantry. You made yourself a glass of water, didn't even take a sip, and grumbled as you looked in front of you, not really seeing anything. You abandoned it on the counter, ready to stomp away, when Lee Know put himself in your trajectory.

"What's going on?"

You would have kept walking if he hadn't grabbed you by the shoulders and blocked you from carrying on.

"Uh?" you looked at him as if you were just now seeing him. "Nothing, something at work, it's enraging." 

"Then please tell me so I can know who to kill," he replied in an equally angered tone. His hold on your shoulders tightened slightly at the thought someone had hurt you. 

You looked at him, surprised. "What, kill someone?" 

"Please, Y/n. I've never seen you like this. I don't know what happened, but for it to put you in that state, I'm guessing it's pretty serious." 

He had to pull it out of you, but you finally explained how you discovered one of your coworkers, who you considered a friend, was, in fact, a raging homophobic, queer-hating asshole. When you first heard him comment on someone else wearing a rainbow pin, you had laughed it off, thinking he was being dumb, but he kept adding on, and you realized, horrified, that he was being serious. 

Cherry on top, when you told him you were pansexual, he had stared at you with this idiotic air and asked if you were attracted to kitchen appliances. It ended up with you terminating that 'friendship' and leaving the office completely enraged. 

Your boyfriend listened carefully to your story. His piercing eyes set on you when he finally stated, "I have no idea how you managed not to smack him in the face." 

You let out a dry chuckle, telling the story again only egged you on, and brought up a familiar gloom you hadn't felt in a while. Immediately, he noticed the change in your demeanor, how the burning rage had simmered to a profound sadness. "Hey, it's okay, you can report the bastard, you know. He can't go around saying stuff like that."

You wrapped your arms around your middle, your lower lip softly shaking as you exhaled. "It's been a long time since I've been directly in contact with someone like that. I'm mad at myself for not seeing it maybe others knew, and they considered me badly for hanging out with him. I feel so bad."

He pulled you to him, softly resting his chin on top of your head. "Some people are really good at hiding who they truly are. He never said anything before, you never could have known."

"I know, but I somewhat feel like a traitor to my community," you covered your face with your hands before hiding in his chest. "Is that dumb?"  

He softly pushed you back and leveled his gaze with yours. "That is a little dumb because you did not betray your community, okay? You can't betray someone if you've also been fooled. And you know what's the best thing to do now? Report his ass. I'm sure if you do, there will be others who feel comfortable speaking up."

Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. "You're right. I want queer people to feel safe at work. The thought that I might have been seen as someone who would threaten that makes me sick. But if I speak up, that could change. Maybe we could even create a committee to do sensibilization about homophobia in the workplace." The gloom in your eyes was replaced with a fire. "One thing is sure, I won't let it happen again.

He gave you an adorable grin as he softly grabbed your chin. "My little fighter, I'm proud of you."

Your eyes disappeared into a happy smile as you hugged him again. "Thank you for always supporting me, although I am slightly scared of how little it took to convince you to kill someone." 

He laughed before grabbing you over his shoulder and whispered with a diabolical expression. "You shouldn't." 

Because really, there shouldn't be a doubt in your mind that this man was ready to make anyone who hurt you pay a terrible price. 

Bang Chan

The leader rubbed his hands on his face in an attempt to wipe away all the exhaustion. He looked back at his computer screen, feeling a violent cramp in his head causing his eyes to squeeze shut of their own accords. 

"Okay, okay. I get it. No more computer today."

He grabbed his phone before getting up, pleading his eyes to survive one last exposure to the light of a screen. He clicked on your name and quickly typed in, asking you what you wanted to eat for dinner but all signs of fatigue disappeared once he saw your answer. Worry replaced any feelings in his heart, his tired eyes fixed on the device.

What could have happened for you to be so down? He knew you were dealing with a difficult friend lately, but could it have gotten this bad so quickly? He wondered if he should push it, ask you more, but as his eyes started burning again he realized it would probably be of no help and he should wait for you to get home. Chan looked around the apartment, an uneasy feeling in his chest, a restlessness agitating his limbs. You were hurting and he couldn’t stay still, waiting for you to arrive. Then it clicked, he looked at your messages once again, closed the app and started dialing a number he was starting to know very well. As the line rang, a smirk slowly took place on his full lips.

You tiredly entered your apartment, welcomed with a delicious aroma. You kicked your boots off, more than ready to change into comfortable clothes and hug your boyfriend. 

Your heart melted at the sight waiting for you in the kitchen. Chan, his sleeve rolled up, showing his strong forearms, was very focused on the pots and pans burbling in front of him. He softly hummed to the soft jazz music playing in the background, completely oblivious to the world around him. You silently walked to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, loving how his strong back felt on your cheek through his clothes. 

"Jesus! You scared me," he whined, still, you could hear the smile in his voice as his hands wrapped around yours. "How are you?"

You didn't answer, feeling tears prickling your eyes and that burning sensation in your nose when you knew you were about to cry. You buried your face in his clothes, hoping it would muffle the sound of your sobs. 

"Y/n?" he quickly turned around, realizing you were far from okay. "Hey, baby what's going on?"

Violent sobs shook your body as you slid to the floor engulfed in Chan’s reassuring embrace, allowing you to let it all go. Once you calmed down enough to take a big breath, he asked again. "Baby, what happened?" 

Softly, he brushed his fingers through your hair. He was a calm and reassuring presence for you in all the chaos. You knew you could trust him, knew you could tell him anything and he would be there for you.

"You know my ´friend’, our relationship was already rocky, I knew that, but I thought it was getting better. When we studied together the other day, we talked so much, about anything and everything and even personal stuff. I thought we were getting over that petty argument, but today I heard them tell other people from my classes how I was faking my anxiety disorder and depression symptoms. They said I only did it to get attention and that I- I was an addict." Your voice broke on the last word, horrified that such words could have come out of their mouth.

Chan had to fight everything in him not to go after them right now. If there was one thing he despised it was when the ones he loved were hurt. He couldn't bear it. He knew how hard it had been for you to get a diagnosis and start taking medication. How could someone be heartless enough to make such comments? 

"I heard some of the people in the group defend me, but still... I can't believe it. I'm so stupid, I never should have told them about it."

"Y/n. You are not stupid. They are the assholes. You are not stupid for trusting someone you thought was a friend okay? I don't ever want you to think you are stupid for that."

You looked at him with teary eyes. He felt himself melt and soften, all anger disappearing when he realized how badly you needed him. "You are not stupid. You are not faking anything." he softly stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears as he did. "I'm so proud of you for reaching out for help. I'm proud of you every damn day, and you know the people who really love you do too." You closed your eyes, relishing in his warm touch, allowing his soft voice to erase every doubt and fear. He softly kissed your forehead, "Okay?"

"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you I don't know what I would do without you."

"You would still do amazing because you are one of the strongest person I've ever met."

You chuckled at his comment. "You're so cheesy. Still, I'm pretty happy to have you." You lifted your head towards the stove. "Especially if you tell me you've been cooking for me." You took a deep breath in, finally registering what it was you were smelling. You looked back at him, already smiling, a look of surprise on your face. "Is- is that my mom’s… How, how did you do it?"

A proud and satisfied expression was printed on his features. "You wanted your mom’s spaghetti so I called and asked her to help me make it. Turns out the recipe isn’t that hard." He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear while you stared at him like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, which he was.

"I can’t believe you did that. My mother has never told anyone her recipe!"

"Yeah, about that. I might have had to make a deal with her to get it…" You rolled your eyes, ready to hear some embarrassing stunt your mother pulled on your boyfriend. "I had to explain why I wanted the recipe, and she might have made me promise we’d go visit your family in two weeks while you’re on spring break."

You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, asking him a thousand time if he was kidding, if this was really happening, while he promised over and over again it was. You pulled back to look at the satisfied smile growing on his lips. Chan was a sure value in your life, maybe the only true one, and as you looked at him, his dimpled smile and the satisfaction he had in preparing all this for you, you knew this was it. He was everything you would ever need.

[reidswhre]

A vague request for Spencer x reader!! (only if you want too, obviously.) Maybe some hurt/comfort?? I'm such a sucker for those.

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you keep your nightmares and insomnia to yourself till you reach a point where you can’t handle it anymore, it’s great your boyfriend is there for ya.

warnings: nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, low self-esteem due to the lack of sleep, however, it’s hurt and comfort! 🫶🏼

a/n: it's a bit rushed but I'm a little inspired so I did it before my inspiration disappeared, i hope you like it. also english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes. as always my request are open feel free to send me yours!

Sleeping is supposed to be something pleasant. It usually reduces stress and improves your mood. It’s the favorite activity of many people—in fact, it used to be yours too.

Until insomnia and nightmares began. At first, they weren't that bad; they scared you a bit, but nothing more. Then they became terrible, making you feel so awful you wanted to throw up, which led to unstoppable insomnia.

You used to sleep maybe 3 hours a day at most, and it was killing you. Not only were you unbearably tired all day, but you also had a mood so bad that even you couldn’t stand yourself. As a result, you started treating people around you poorly, which made you feel awful, but at this point, it was beyond your control.

You hadn’t told anyone either—you didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily. It wasn’t needed. You were probably just going through a rough patch. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde.

“Hey.” Spencer’s face greeted you when you opened your apartment door to let him in.

“Hi,” you replied with a small smile.

“I really missed you,” he said as he walked into your apartment, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled. “Really? I missed you too,” you said sincerely. “You were gone for a few days.” Spencer’s job often required him to be away, and you handled it pretty well.

“Yeah, the case was tough,” he explained as he placed some bags in your kitchen. “How’ve you been?”

“Me? Well... good, I guess. Nothing new,” you shrugged.

“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows, questioning you.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” You looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

Again, you didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone that you hadn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. There was no point in saying it.

“What’s in the bags?” You pointed at them, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, I read that green tea increases the body's relaxation capacity and helps with sleep. Plus, the amount of L-theanine is higher than caffeine, so it’s a great option to avoid insomnia,” he explained while taking the tea out of the bags.

“You think I need that? Why would you think that?” you said, your mood shifting a bit.

“What? No, I don’t think you need it. I just thought it’d be good to have to relax a bit. Personally, I’m sleeping fine, but I don’t see any harm in drinking it,” he said, looking at you.

“Well, I’m sleeping great too, so I don’t need it, okay?” There it was again. You had no idea why you were treating him this way—he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I never said otherwise,” he said, frowning.

“Good.” You looked at the floor, feeling uncomfortable.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay—”

“I’m perfectly fine,” you interrupted him and walked out of the kitchen.

You entered the bathroom in your room and splashed some water on your face, hoping it would refresh you. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a bit pale, with dark circles under your eyes that you hadn’t had in years, and your lips were dry. You felt terrible—like a completely different person.

But you decided that if you stayed there any longer, Spencer would come looking for you, and you’d have to give explanations you weren’t willing to share.

When you got back to the living room, you saw him sitting on the couch with his cup of tea and another cup next to him that was probably cold by now.

And you felt horrible.

Horrible wasn’t even enough to describe it.

He had bought and made tea just to help you relax a bit, even without knowing that this was the very thing driving you crazy.

And you had responded terribly.

“Spencer, I—” You tried to start.

“I think it’s better if we just go to bed, don’t you? It’s been a long day,” he said, getting up from the couch.

“Uhh... yeah, sure,” you whispered, staring at the floor.

Your heart was racing, sweat was running down your forehead and neck, and your head was spinning as you tried to push away the dreams that had been tormenting you.

“Hey,” you heard a voice in the distance. “Hey, listen to me, love, hey,” the voice repeated in your head.

“Hey!”

You suddenly sat up in bed, completely disoriented.

“Hey, you’re okay, right? You’re here with me,” Spencer said, looking at you while placing his hand on your knee. But you couldn’t really hear him. Your head was ringing so loudly it felt like it was going to explode.

“Sweetheart?” Spencer stroked your cheek, concerned.

Suddenly, you regained a bit of awareness. You looked at him and his worried face, then around the room. The clock read 12:38 AM. Your hands were sweating, and you were cold.

All of a sudden, everything you’d been carrying for weeks collapsed. It just fell apart, and you started crying like you hadn’t in a long time.

“Oh my God,” Spencer whispered as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you tightly.

“I’m so tired,” you sobbed into his neck.

“What’s going on, love? I need you to tell me, okay? So I can help you,” he whispered in your ear, his voice soft.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a few weeks now,” you mumbled against him. “I have insomnia and lots of nightmares. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” he asked, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“I—I don’t know,” you sobbed. “I didn’t want to bother you, and I didn’t want to seem weak, I—” You stumbled over your words.

“Don’t say that. You could never bother me, especially not with something this important. It’s serious, and I don’t think you’re taking it seriously enough,” he said, looking at you with his kind brown eyes, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“I thought I was just having a few bad days, I don’t know—” you tried to explain through your tears.

“It’s okay, we can work through this. Tomorrow, we can see your therapist and check on how you’re doing, alright?” he said, kissing your forehead.

You nodded without saying anything, feeling safe.

“Let’s get that tea, yeah? I’m sure it’ll calm you down a bit—unless you don’t want it now either, hmm?” he teased you a little.

You let out a small laugh. “I want it.”

“Good, because I was going to make you drink it anyway,” he laughed with you.

“Hey!” you frowned.

“Don’t give me that face,” he said, kissing your furrowed brow.

“Thank you,” you said genuinely.

“For what? For making you drink tea?” he laughed.

“No, silly. For helping me, even though I didn’t treat you very well tonight,” you said, looking at the floor.

“Are you kidding? Of course, I’ll help you. It’s the least I can do. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too,” you said, giving him a small kiss on the lips.

You were probably going to sleep well tonight.

[gubsbuubs]

The Sign

Pairing: Chip Taylor x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3.5K

Warnings: Drinking, fluffly smut, creampie.

Summary: As Chip sought an escape from his troubles, a vibrant bar sign beckoned to him. Intrigued, he stepped inside, not knowing what the night had in store for him.

Preview: “Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

A/N: I love Chip so much, just wanna hold him in my arms.

I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

MASTERLIST

The bar had settled into a quiet hum, with a scattering of regulars lounging at their usual spots, half-engaged in a random game flickering on the TV. I seized the opportunity to clean up the sticky residue left behind by a night of beer spills and colorful cocktails, wiping down the counter with rhythmic precision.

A gentle ding echoed through the air as the entrance door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. He took a seat on a stool, keeping his gaze fixed downward. The words spilled out in a wearied tone: "Give me some Jack on the Rocks, please."

Responding to the request, I pivoted towards the top shelf, snagging Jack Daniels. With the clink of ice cubes, I poured a generous amount, recognizing from his demeanor that he could use it.

“There you go," I offered, sliding the drink across the freshly cleaned surface.

Only then that he lifted his head.

His eyes, a rich shade of brown, were captivating yet carried an air of melancholy and fatigue. As they met mine, I couldn't help but notice the subtle weariness etched into his features. A slightly busted lip hinted at a rough patch he might have navigated recently.

The man, who had just walked into the bar, possessed a unique kind of beauty. His eyes, reminiscent of warm mahogany, held stories untold beneath their gaze. The strong bone structure framed a face that seemed to wear the weight of experiences, and his soft and pink lips betrayed a vulnerability hidden behind a worn exterior. In his presence, there was an intriguing blend of strength and fragility—a captivating allure that set him apart in the dimly lit atmosphere of the bar.

His response, a quiet "thanks," hung in the air, leaving an air of mystery around him. Intrigue danced in the atmosphere as I observed him. There was a certain beauty in his quiet gratitude, a sense of vulnerability that added layers to the enigma before me.

His appearance struck a chord, akin to that of a lost puppy finding its way to unfamiliar territory. Despite his undeniable beauty, there was an air of solitude, a silent plea for understanding. As he sat there, seemingly adrift in his thoughts, I couldn't help but feel a tug of compassion, a desire to unravel the story behind those captivating eyes.

“Rough night, hun?” I queried, hoping to ignite a bit of conversation.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he chuckled in response, his eyes briefly meeting mine before lowering again. There was a weight in his words, a heaviness that hinted at the struggles he might be carrying within.

I leaned on the counter, wanting to offer a sympathetic ear. “Well, you’re in good company. People say a bartender is like a makeshift therapist. We listen, pour drinks, and hope things get a little better.”

"I'd rather not talk about it," he said, taking a gulp of his drink.

"Oh...Yeah...that's more than okay. I'll be over there if you need anything." I spoke in a quiet voice, straightening up as if preparing to leave him to his thoughts.

Maybe he just wanted to be alone.

"Hey, no, no, no, stay. I… I´d really appreciate the company," he said, giving me the sweetest half-smile, his look softening.

 The silence embraced us for a bit, before I decided to chime in again.

“So… I’ve never seen you around here before.” I leaned in once more, offering a different approach to the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm not from around here. Just passing through"

"Yeah, I knew I didn’t recognize your face. Small town, you know,” I remarked with a grin. “Do you have a name, or are you going for the mysterious stranger vibe?”

The hearty laugh that echoed from his chest illuminated his features with a small yet captivating smile. He was undeniably attractive; his grin seemed to brighten the entire room.

“It’s Chip, Chip Taylor,” he offered, his eyes carrying a spark of amusement.

"Nice to meet you, Chip. I'm Y/n," I offered, reaching my hand across the counter for a handshake. His grip was firm, yet his touch remained gentle, and the warmth in his hands felt inviting.

"Well, well, Mr. Taylor, what brings you to this little slice of paradise?" I asked as I poured a drink for myself.

He chuckled. "Honestly, I don't even know. I just got in the car and drove. When I saw the sign, I decided to come in.”

I jokingly said, "Guess the universe knew it; you needed a sign—literally."

We both laughed, and he agreed, "Well, I guess signs do work in mysterious ways."

“So, are you planning to stay for a couple of days, or is this just a one-night stop?" I inquired.

"Honestly, I don't even know. I didn't plan anything," he responded with a shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression.

"Sounds like someone will be sleeping in their car tonight," I joked, a playful smile accompanying my words.

"Well, it might just come to that. But who knows?" he said, offering me a smile as he took another sip of his drink.

As the night progressed, Chip and I found ourselves engrossed in conversation, our words flowing effortlessly. He proved to be easygoing and open, making the dialogue naturally enjoyable. Through our exchange, I learned that beneath the busted-out exterior, Chip was genuinely a sweet guy.

Sadly, it became evident that a girl had definitely made a number on his pretty little head, and from what I could gather, that seemed to have left him with a sense of being lost and lonely, undeserving of love.

As Chip shared tales about his ex-girlfriend, Liza, was her name, it was pretty clear that he had experienced a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth and kindness he exuded clashed sharply with the pain inflicted by someone he had once cared deeply for. Each word seemed to carry the weight of a past filled with unsuspecting toxicity.

Listening to him, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for this beautiful soul who had been blindsided by the harsh realities of his last relationship. His genuine belief in love and commitment made the way she treated him more repulsive. I wondered how someone could overlook the treasure that Chip was—someone who radiated sweetness and cared for others with a sincere heart.

Yet, despite the wounds he carried, Chip maintained a certain innocence in his recounting. It was as if he couldn't fathom the depths of the toxicity until it consumed him. My heart ached for him, and I found myself wanting to shield this gentle soul from further harm.

As the other customers gradually left, Chip willingly joined me in tidying up the tables and washing the remaining cups. Amid laughter and shared stories, we closed the bar together, his presence a comforting company that made the tasks feel lighter.

"It might be your lucky day, Taylor," I told him as I watched him close the metal guards at the front.

"How so?" He asked in a gentle tone as he rose to his feet.

"Well, you helped me a lot tonight, and I just feel like I should return the favor. So, how about you crash at my place?" I offered; it was the least I could do for him. “It’s that one, right across the street.”

"Oh, Y/N, no way. I don't want to step into your space like that." He held his hands up as if unsure about accepting the invitation.

I grabbed his arm as I started to walk to my house. "Hey, it's okay, I insist. I bet my couch, although very old, is still more comfortable than your car." I laughed.

I noticed a hesitant yet grateful smile forming on his lips, a silent acceptance of the offer.

“Come on, Chip, you can even take a shower and change into some spare clothes I have lying around.”

“They’re my brother's. He has some spares at my house for when he stays here to help me out with the bar,” I offered a small explanation.

"And your boyfriend won’t mind me wearing his clothes?" His tone held a curious edge, a playful note that suggested a mix of light-hearted banter and genuine interest. There was a subtle spark in his eyes, as if he was testing the waters, teasing to see my reaction.

"His clothes or not, you're letting a stranger stay at your house. I bet he won't like it." He was now fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for me to open the door.

“Chip,” I laughed at his awkwardness, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

As we stepped into the house, I motioned for Chip to get comfortable.

“Can I get you anything?” I offered it in a sweet tone.

"I'm good, thank you,"

I grabbed some spare clothes for him. While he freshened up in the main bathroom, I decided to take a quick shower in my room.

Half-expecting to find him already asleep as I approached the living room, the soft glow of the lamp revealed Chip, not asleep but comfortably seated on the couch, engrossed isome random show playing on tv.

"You clean up nicely. Feeling better?" I asked.

Dressed in a white shirt and comfortable sweats, he seemed at ease.

As I studied his demeanor, it was evident that the stress had lifted off his shoulders. His posture became more relaxed, and the subtle lines of tension that had etched themselves across his face seemed to ease He exuded a sense of calm and peace, looking remarkably beautiful on my sofa. His lip, no longer marred with dried blood, revealed a gentler man, and the earlier signs of roughness had disappeared. He looked not just good, but like he belonged here.

Chip looked up with a soft smile on his lips.

"Much better, thanks to you," he replied.

“Anytime,” I said, returning his smile. “So, do you usually end up in random towns, or is this a first?”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s not a regular occurrence, but life has its surprises. Sometimes you just go with the flow.”

“Must make for some interesting stories,” I commented, settling onto the couch.

“You have no idea,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

As our conversation meandered through the night, Chip’s gaze softened, and a more vulnerable side emerged. He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, his eyes occasionally dropping to his hands.

“You know...” he hesitated, “Meeting you, it’s been a bright spot in a bit of a rough patch.”

I smiled, sensing a genuine sincerity in his words. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” I admitted.

He sighed, a mixture of nervousness and contemplation in the air. “Can I be honest?” Chip looked up, meeting my eyes with a touch of uncertainty.

“Of course,” I encouraged, curious about the turn in our conversation.

He shifted on the couch and said, “I wasn’t expecting to feel this… comfortable. It’s like I’ve known you longer than just tonight.”

The vulnerability in his expression tugged at my heart. “Sometimes, connections happen unexpectedly,” I replied, choosing my words carefully.

Chip nodded, his eyes reflecting gratitude. “Maybe it’s the universe giving me a sign.”

There was a subtle shift in the air, an unspoken understanding between us. As I met his gaze, I noticed a hint of longing, a desire for connection that went beyond words.

He hesitated, then, with a shy smile, he said, “Would it be too forward if I said I’d really like to kiss you right now?”

I felt a warmth spreading within, appreciating his honesty. “Not too forward at all,” I admitted, mirroring his smile.

He inched his way to my face, his nose touching mine. I could feel his breath, smelling of the whiskey I had poured him earlier. His lips brushed over mine as if seeking confirmation, and in that moment, I leaned in, and our kiss began. It was soft, filled with affection, a gentle exploration of each other's feelings.

I brought my hands to his face, cupping it delicately. My fingers played with the soft hairs on the back of his neck. The kiss deepened slightly, each movement a synchronized dance of two souls finding solace in each other's company.

With a mild pull, we found ourselves sinking into the sofa, our lips meeting again in a sweet and unhurried kiss. The room seemed to fade away as we lost ourselves in the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Soft sighs and the light rustle of fabric became a symphony to my ears.

As our kisses deepened, the desire for closeness grew. Chip shifted his weight as he continued to savor the connection that seemed to deepen with each passing second. His hands traced gentle patterns on my back and sides.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my cheek.

"Chip, you have no idea how beautiful you are," I replied, my fingers gently tracing the contours of his face. "You’re so sweet and kind; you deserve nothing but love.” My eyes met his; his lips were open, but no words came out, so I continued, “I want to treat you right, the way you should have been treated before."

He looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "I... I've never had someone say something like that to me."

My hand gently tugged at his neck as I whispered, "She didn't deserve you, Chip. Every little second she spent with you, she didn't deserve it."

He breathed in deeply, and I felt his Adam's apple bobbing under my fingertips as he looked up at me with his big brown eyes.

"Why are you being so good to me?"

In that quiet space right before our lips met again, you could practically feel the tension in the air. It was like this magnetic pull, and I swear, you could almost hear our hearts beating in sync.I could feel the gentle touch of his fingers, a feather-light caress that traced the contours of my face, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. The room was dim, but it felt like everything was glowing. You know those moments when time kinda stops? Yeah, it was one of those. I could sense his breath mixing with mine, and there was this unspoken language passing between our eyes. It was all anticipation, a sweet torture, and then, in a heartbeat, our lips crashed back together.

Our bodies synced in a rhythmic dance, his hips gently pressing into mine. The sensation of his hardness against the warmth between my thighs was like a wildfire spreading through me, making my toes curl in sweet response.

His hands explored the curves of my body, tracing a path that sent shivers down my spine. The touch was electric, making my breath catch in the midst of pleasure. Our mouths collided in a passionate exchange, each kiss leaving us both breathless and wanting more. His lips migrated from mine to my neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. Meanwhile, his hands found a comfortable spot on my hips, gently pulling me closer to him. The squeeze was tender, yet firm.

I guided him backward onto the couch, settling myself on his lap. Leaning in, I pressed soft kisses along his neck, the taste of his skin driving my desire. Running my teeth lightly against it, I elicited a quiet moan from him. Leaning further, our lips met in a fiery kiss, passion igniting between us. The world faded away as I lost myself in the intensity of the moment, our connection deepening with every shared breath and every stolen kiss.

“You’re driving me insane, Y/N," he whispered in my ear as his hands met my hips to guide me as I grinned on his fully hard but still covered dick.

“I’ve barely even started,” I chuckled as I placed small kisses on his collarbone. He responded with a sharp inhale, laying his head back and grinding his hips up to meet mine.

“Will you let me take care of you, Chip?” I ask in the sweetest tone, my voice laced with desire as his eyes met mine.

“Please be gentle with me,” he begged with a pout.

Those pretty brown eyes begging me were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and it made me grow even hotter than before. I responded with a soft smile, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek and lowering myself on the ground in front of him.

“Y/n, you don't have to," but there was a subtle hint of hope in his eyes, secretly wishing I wouldn’t stop what I was doing. And so I didn't. As my hands laid flat on his thighs, I looked at him and said, "But I want to."

The whimper he let out was delicious, clearly growing desperate as my hands worked the string of his sweats. He raised his hips a little so I could help him out of them, freeing him completely.

“Baby... your cock is so pretty,” I told him with a sweet smile.

“Humm.. is it?” He asked in a quiet moan, with uncertainty coaxing his voice.

“Humm..humm” I placed a soft kiss on the tip. “The prettiest.” I then slowly started to kitten-lick before taking him into my mouth as my right hand started to move.

As his head fell back, his hand met the back of my neck. He couldn’t contain himself as he moaned loudly. Fuck, this man was vocal, and his soft moans and whimpers were making me wetter than ever before.

As I sucked on his cock, his hand pulled on my hair, guiding me however he saw fit. Suddenly, he pulled me up. "Please stop, or I’m going to cum," he moaned, his body shuddering with pleasure. “I want to be inside of you.”

Now was my turn to moan at his words; he sounded so sincere, like he longed for it.

As I rose from the ground, I took my pants off and motined for him to also take the rest of his clothes off.

I held a twinkle in my eyes as I suggested, “You want to help me out, pretty boy?”

He immediately lunged forward, grabbing my ass and pulling me close to his mouth. His open-mouth kisses on my stomach sent fireworks of pleasure through my body, and I felt as if every nerve in my body had lit up with desire.

His fingers grazed my sides as he hooked them on the fabric of my panties, pulling them down.

He then took my shirt off before pulling me into his lap once again.

I reached between us, taking his dick in my hand and lining it up with my entrance. As I sank down, he captured my lips once again, moaning in my mouth at the sensation of him filling me up.

“Fuck Chip, you feel so good, so big inside of me,” I said, looking into his eyes. He almost melted, his lips half open, letting a sweet moan escape.

“You’re so warm, Y/N, so tight." He hissed as I stared to move. "Fuck,” he moaned in a high-pitched tone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“Oh my god...” He cried, “So good.”

"I bet Liza never made you feel this good," I teased, kissing his neck softly.

"Never," he moaned, his body shivering with pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet she's nowhere near as good as me at making you feel good," I said, biting his neck hard enough to leave a mark.

"There's nothing that could ever compare to this," he moaned, his hands wrapped around me and his entire body tense with pleasure.

As I moved up and down, I felt his hands travel along my body, sending me a shiver of pleasure. His breath quickened, and his whimpers became more incoherent with each movement.

“Y/n.. y/n I ca..” He tried to speak, but the sentences seemed hard to form.

“What is it, baby boy?” I asked as I grabbed his chin, making him keep his eyes on mine.

"I need to..." He sounded desperate, and my walls squeezed at his neediness.

"Oh, baby,” I moaned. “Am I fucking you so good you can't even hold a conversation?”

He quickly nodded his head in affirmation.

Oh, what a sight! He looked so worked up, and his eyes begged me to not stop my movements as his dick hit my cervix.

“Can I please..." He tried to form the full sentence, but a moan inturremped him. I could feel the fires of passion burning inside me with each stroke, his cock twitching, yearning for release.

He breath in deeply “Can I please cum inside”.

“Yes baby” I moaned “Please cum for me” I held him close as I rode our shared climax. The felling of his load spilling into me made me feel full.

As I reclined on the couch, Chip nestled himself between my legs, his head finding a restful spot on my chest. Despite lingering fatigue, his demeanor shifted to one of contentment and tranquility. With gentle strokes, I caressed his head, feeling the softness of his hair.

"Well, that was unexpected,” he spoke, breaking the moment with a light-hearted chuckle.

I laughed, “The best things usually are.”

Chip’s gaze softened, and he looked at me with a mix of gratitude and realization. “You know, YN, I never thought I could feel so much love from someone. It’s… it’s different.”

I smiled, appreciating the sincerity in his words. “Different can be a beautiful thing. You know? The ordinary becomes extraordinary in the company of the right person.”

Chip sighed contentedly, his eyes drifting closed. "Well, I think I found the right person tonight."

And with those words, he succumbed to the embrace of slumber, the room filled with the soft sounds of a peaceful night.

[spenceragnewfics]

Can you do a fic where you're a crew/cast member and have been in a relationship with Spencer for a few years and he finally proposes? I'm thinking something cute where he proposes on set where the two of you first met after everyone has gone home for the day. Love your work btw!

I love this one so much!

I THINK I WANNA MARRY YOU | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

TW: None

Word Count: 1.1k

Description: When the four newest Smosh cast members are curious as to how Y/N and Spencer met. The story time turns into another heartwarming story.

People always say that you will know when you find the one. The person you’re supposed to be with for the rest of your life. It’d be like a cool wind or just a relaxed feeling when you meet them.

That’s what Y/N thought back in 2016 when she was dating Kevin. He was a nice guy. He had a good job and was pretty attractive, but he was a major cheater. You see, Y/N found him multiple times with multiple different women after promising time and time again not to do it again.

During this time, she started working at a new company called Smosh as a cast member. Her job was to be funny but it was really hard with everything going on in her life at the time. Thankfully, she made many friends with Courtney, Shayne, Keith, and Olivia when she first started but one person stood out in particular. She remembers the day like it was yesterday.

“Court, I’m telling you. I don’t need someone right now. I’m enjoying being single.” She says, she had been at the company only a couple of weeks but was already very close to the blonde. “Please, Y/N/N! You know I can help. I know that Kevin was a bad experience but you can’t let that hang you up.” She looks at Courtney with a bored expression before her eyes move behind her to the editing area, someone catching her attention.

He has curly hair that is styled back with dark stubble that matches his hair color. His skin is light with some olive undertones. He’s focused on the video in front of him but Y/N’s breath is caught in her throat. “Hey, hey, girly, are you okay?” Courtney asks, waving a hand in front of her face.

“Yeah, yeah, just…Court…who is that.” She nods her head towards the man as her friend turns to look, “Oh, that’s Spencer. He’s one of our editors. You haven’t met him yet?” They ask, shocked that she still hasn’t met him. “Well he’s going to be helping with the shoot today, you two can be introduced then,” Courtney says, smirking to themself with a thought.

Later when Y/N, Courtney, Damien, and Keith are getting miced up, Spencer walks in with his head focused on something. “Spencer! Hey, can you come over here?” Shayne asks, in on the plan Courtney thought up. He walks over, his laptop under his arm with raised brows “What’s up, Shayne?” 

“Have you met Y/N yet? Our newest cast member?” Spencer looks over to see her chatting with Courtney, Damien, and Keith. Laughing at something Keith said and is taken aback. “N-No, I haven’t.” He stutters out. Shayne wraps an arm around Spencer’s shoulder, walking him over to the group.

“Y/N.” Shayne says and she turns, a big smile on her face that makes Spencer melt just looking at her. “What’s up?” She asks, looking at Shayne before her eyes widen when she sees Spencer. “I wanted to introduce you to Spencer. He’s one of our best editors here.” He pushes the man closer to her.

The two both look nervous, making their friends smile. It’s adorable. “N-Nice to meet you.” Spencer stutters out again, putting his hand out. She shakes it with a shy smile, “Nice to meet you too, I’m Y/N.”

“And that was how we met all those years ago. When you babies were still just babies.” Y/N says, cuddled into Spencer’s side as she talks to Chanse, Trevor, Angela, and Arasha about how the two met. “So you two have been sickeningly cute since you met? That’s not fair!” Chanse whines, making the couple laugh.

“Eh, I guess. We did have our rough patches though. We made it through, that’s all that matters.” Spencer says, kissing the top of Y/N’s head and she smiles. “Okay, okay, you two are making me sick. I’m going to get lunch. Who wants to join me?” Arasha asks, getting off the floor that the four were sitting on around the couple like it was story time.

“Me.” Trevor and Chanse say, following Arasha. “Wait, I wanna ask more questions!” Angela says while Chanse drags her with him. Y/N waves goodbye to the four, a loving smile on her face.

As the years have passed she has become a welcoming figure in the cast along with Courtney. She’s moved to be mostly on Games with Spencer and the two had become known as the parents of the gaming channel.

“Can you believe it’s been almost ten years? Where has time gone?” She asks, playing with his fingers and enjoying the two of them being alone for once. “I know, it seems to be just passing by. Feels like we just started dating not too long ago.” He says, smiling at her.

She gets off the couch and looks around, “It’s still crazy that Courtney got Shayne in on a plan for us to get together and now they’re married.” She says, giggling at the memory. “And the fact that we met, officially, on a set like this.” He says, getting off the couch and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Yeah, time is weird.” She says, leaning her head onto his shoulder.

“You know, I never really thought about marriage. At least, not until I met you.” He said, making her look at him confused. “You know I’ve dated a few people but I never really saw anything long-term with them. You’re different though, I knew the moment I saw you that I wanted something and I wanted it long-term.” He cups her face before moving to one knee.

“Spence, are you really?” She asks, covering her mouth. “I have loved you for years. I never want to stop loving you. You have been here for me through thick and thin. I cannot think of anyone more I want to spend my life with than you. Y/N L/N, will you marry me.” He asks, pulling out a small velvet box with a beautiful ring inside it.

“Spencer, oh my god.” She says, getting on her knees to be eye level with him. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.” She says grabbing his face and kissing him.

When the two pull away, he slides the ring on her finger as she looks at him lovingly. “Should we go tell everyone?” He asks, “In a minute. I just want to be here with you for now.” She says before kissing him again.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA For telling my partner I'd like to bring my ex into our relationship?

I'm copying this over from r/relationship_advice, because the responses are giving me the impression they don't really get what polyamory is & I'm hoping tumblr does. For reference: there's me (29M), my ex (28, Trans Man), and my partner (30M).

My ex and I were best friends in high school, went to the same college, & dated through the tail end of undergrad, for about a year and change. We ended things on very good terms, the only reason we broke up was a difference in life paths: I stayed in the city to get my Master's, he traveled constantly for his work (he's a sculptor who makes these huge custom multimedia pieces, they're genuinely some of the most beautiful things I've seen). We fell out of touch for the most part, but I'd see him popping up on social media occasionally, or he'd text me when he was in town and we'd hang out, along with some other school friends.

The last time I saw him before our present situation was about 3 1/2 years ago today. We went out for drinks, he came back to my place after, and we ended up hooking up. He stayed in town for about a week, and we hooked up a few more times, and then he left again. He sort of dropped off the face of the earth after that, but he'd always been pretty sporadic, especially when he had a big project, so I didn't think much about it.

Not long after that, I met my current partner. He's truly one of my favorite people in the whole world; he's incredibly thoughtful, and earnest, and passionate about his morals & principles (he's an environmental lawyer), and more than anything, he's someone I never feel like I have to pretend with. He asked for my number, we had our first date a few days later, and ended up staying awake the entire night just talking about anything and everything, so we went ahead and got 5am pancakes and called it our second date. We've been together for a little over 3 years now, we've been moved in together for about 2, and while we've had the occasional fight or rough patch I can definitely say I love this man, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with him.

So, the big change.

About a year ago (~2 years since seeing my ex, my partner and I have lived together for about a year at this point), my partner and I are having a night in, and there's a knock at the door. It's my ex, looking absolutely ragged, holding a 15 month old baby. As in, a baby who was conceived 24 months before then. Yep, it's pretty much what you're guessing. I let them both in, we had a sit down in the kitchen, and he told me everything he'd been doing in the past 2 years in between me cussing him out for keeping it all from me in the first place. I really do want to keep this as short as possible, so to give you the super condensed version:

She's my daughter, he's completely sure about that, there's no one else he's been with the math is even close to correct for

The second he found out he was pregnant, he more or less panicked. He's got a whole Thing about feeling like he's irresponsible/not a "real" adult, and this really set him off, so telling me felt like "admitting to fucking both our lives up" at the time. His OB/GYN said some pretty awful shit to him about not being more careful as a trans man too, which just made it all even worse

Because of all that, he'd genuinely planned to just never tell me I have a daughter & raise her completely on his own, but a few things compounded to force his hand:

The birth was really rough on him, and his recovery was slow enough he was having trouble going back to work, to the point where money was getting tight

On top of that, our daughter has celiac disease, and between paying out of pocket for blood tests & spending more on baby food she's safe to eat, things got desperate enough he went and took out a really dodgy loan from a scummy payday company

He was at our door because all of this had finally spiraled to a point where he'd lost his apartment, they'd been sleeping in his car for about a week, and he couldn't think of anything else to do

I think I was probably feeling every human emotion in existence at the same time through all of this, but the thing I remember most from the whole conversation was the way my partner kept drifting right back to the baby, and the soft way he looked at her. We put my ex & daughter up in a hotel room for the night and told him we needed to talk, and we'd discuss our options in the morning, but I think even then I kind of knew what our answer was going to be.

Sure enough, for the last year and a half we've been co-parenting our little girl, all three of us. We didn't want to juggle who's got her, or force my ex to find a place to stay, so we've turned my partner's home office into our daughter's room, and redid most of the downstairs layout so my ex could move into an actual bedroom, rather than just sleep on our pullout couch in perpetuity. We finally succeeded in convincing him that rest and recovery was more important than trying to contribute to the house finances right away, and it's been magical watching all that stress and terror slowly fall off him. It's like he's a little more alive again every time I look.

Which is where my question comes in.

I'd like to restate, I love my partner 100%. None of this changes that whatsoever. If I ask, and he says no, that will be the end of the discussion for me completely. But I have eyes. My ex is, objectively, a very attractive man. I know we work well together, and I have to admit I'm very curious to see where that same chemistry could lead now that he's not on the other side of the country half the time. I've also been noticing these little moments between him and my partner. Nothing I'd consider crossing a line, but I've caught my partner checking my ex out several times, as well as vice versa, and they get along remarkably well. Sometimes I'll go to enter a room, and see them both sitting there laughing and chatting and playing with our baby, and I'll just hang back to watch because it makes me so happy.

Add to all that, we're pretty deeply ingrained in each other's lives now. My partner and I don't often go out on dates alone anymore, but the last few times we did it felt as if my ex was missing from the table. We watched a movie together last night, and my ex sat in the middle of us with his feet in my partner's lap and his head on my chest, and it felt just as natural as my arm on my partner's shoulder. It's not about just having sex with him, and it's not that I'd want to invite any old person into our relationship. I know we already all love each other, and I think there's potential for that to become romantic between the two of us and my ex.

It just feels as though we're all holding our breath, waiting for someone else to say it first. My ex certainly isn't going to bring it up when he's living rent free in "our" home (it's his home too, but he doesn't seem to see it like that yet). My partner grew up sheltered enough that I'm not sure he's ever heard of polyamory at all, so he's not going to bring it up. That just leaves me.

My problem is, if I'm wrong about what I think I'm seeing, or if I bring it up the wrong way, I can't take it back. I don't want my partner to feel insecure or betrayed, I don't want my ex to feel pressured or put on the spot, and I definitely don't want my daughter to lose any of us, which I know could happen if we aren't all on the same page. Or worse, if we do all date and it goes badly.

Should I just keep this whole thing secret? Is that even worse? Would I be the asshole for opening this can of worms on everyone else?

Help!

[ribbonprincess]

hi love, please ignore if you don’t like this request! After seeing drew and Liliana I was thinking about nanny/ babysitter x drew in Charleston. I would prefer smut but ignore if your not comfortable with it 💕

note: this has been sitting in my inbox for sooo long,I'm so sorry I just couldn't find inspo for it. Also got lost in it and made it super long. Reader has a tongue piercing

🪐࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

you're sitting with Drew on the patio outside the house,his sister Mackeyla went out with her husband for the day, so she left Liliana with you and Drew. You met through mutual friends that you both don't talk to anymore and since you like babies she asks to babysit Lili sometimes; so now you find yourself next to her brother who you may have a crush on.

"Keyla didn't tell me you were over today ya know, thought it was gonna be only me and Lili" "yeah...I thought the same actually" you chuckle,looking over at him as you eye each other with a knowing smile "she set us up!" It comes out at the same moment making you both laugh as the realization hits "I can't believe her" you shake your head at the thought,using your palm as a headrest. "well,guess we should make the most out of it then" Drew says, eyeing your sundress clad body,it was nothing crazy since you were looking after a 8 months old baby but it had incredibly hot in South Carolina so it was the best option if you didn't want to melt.

"Like what?" your eyebrows are furrowed as you smile softly at him "don't know...I would love getting to know you better,Keyla has said great things about you" "oh- did she? I hope so.." His body is slowly shifting closer to you,making the two-seater swing move slightly. "I like your perfume" he says,running a fingertip over the skin of your forearm "thank you" your answer comes out way breathier than you intend to but the feeling of his touch is way too affecting. His hand is slowly moving over your face,running over your shoulder and the curve of your neck where he stops for a second before he cups your cheek with a gentle smile.

"mind if I kiss you?" he whispers,already leaning in as you nod. His lips find yours as you lay a hand over his chest and the other on his shoulder "you taste like Cherries" he mumbles, grabbing your waist to manoeuvre you on his lap "I like it." Your hands are running all over his figure,over his buzzed head and then back down his biceps before they settle on holding on his neck. "I would love- to take you out on a date before this" he's pulling away from your mouth, making you almost whine before you're immediately shut by his lips finding their way over your neck "but I think I might go crazy if I don't feel you Immediately." His words are making you grin from ear to ear as they travel right down your core.

A pair of rough hands set the moves of your hips over the bulge in his jeans,making you moan as the material rubs just right against your cotton clad pussy. "gotta be quiet doll, we're outside and Lili is sleeping -she could wake up any moment" "shit,yeah yeah...I'll be quiet" you reply,knowing damn well it won't happen. One of Drew's hands moves southwards,running over your thigh before disappearing under your skirt immediately finding your mound. His index finger runs over the wet patch of your underwear before rubbing slow but firm circles over your clit "can I take these off, gorgeous?" His voice is soft,making you melt even more against his chest "hmhm.." "I need words,love" "yeah, please" He quickly presses a kiss to your temple muttering a "good girl" under his breath as he pushes your panties down your legs before pocketing them "gotta keep these for memory."

His words make you almost roll your eyes,but before you can even think about it one of his fingers is passing through your walls "there you go...'s fucking warm,hm" the way he's groaning against your collarbone makes you think he's the one getting pleasured. He quickly pushes another finger in finding a steady rhythm as they curl nicely against that sweet spongy spot. "god,you look gorgeous" He quickly undoes the bows holding the straps of your dress, revealing your chest to him "won't you look at these,fucking beautiful" he mumbles,wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as his fingers continue to move in and out of you deliciously.

"fuck-" your voice is muffled,biting into his neck probably leaving an imprint behind as he adds another finger in making you clench around him as you feel yourself getting closer. "you're making such sweet noises,princess. You're getting there hm? You can let go,I'm right here" His lips move away from your breasts, trailing over your neck before they slot themselves back on yours "you're doing so good,just need you to cum for me sweet girl" His words are sending you down a spiral as you grind into his palm,his thumb rubbing circles over the tiny bundle of nerves as your moans start get more louder "cumming" your body shake over him for a long second before you fall completely still over him "good girl...feel much better huh,gonna clean me up?" he smirks, rubbing his sticky fingers over your bottom lip.

Your tongue rolls out to wrap around the digits,tasting yourself as you clean him off "fuck- what's that? you got a piercing I don't know about?" he raises an eyebrow once he pulls his fingers out of your mouth "well,shit...you gonna show me what you can do with it-" Your figure is already moving off the swing and between his legs before a loud cry from inside reminds you of the baby "well,guess that's gotta wait" you smile,standing up on shaky legs as you enter the house,feeling Drew's eyes bore into your skill.

[thegnomelord]

PLEASEEEEE UR IDEA WITH MAGE M!READER AND MONSTER!COD MEN I'D LOVE THAT SO FICKING MUCH AND YES I AGREE THERE IS A LACK OF ALL THE VIOLENCE

Pov of how the world sees the reader Vs how TF141 reader :D. I'm in the middle of writing the first chapter of a fic with this idea, but guess who contracted TB like some coal miner 😞, me! So here's a sneak peak for the sort of vibe I'm going for while I'm trying to recover:

P.S: Ya'll are free to suggest/requests with this idea cause!

P.S.S: Check out bluegiragi who came up with this AU and give her some love!

Mages and Monsters

Mages are strange creatures.

In a world so full of monstrous hybrids and mythical creatures, mages sit on the proverbial line separating man from monster, stuck in both worlds without any hope of fitting in either one.

Because outwardly, they're average. No different from the billions of other humans. They're not born with the marks of monsterdom; they don't possess horns or leathery scales to shrug off small caliber bullets like dragons do, nor the claws and bone crushing jaws of werewolves, not feathered wings and razor sharp talons of harpies, nor the wraiths ghostly ability to become immaterial.

Outwardly, they're average. Ordinary. Mundane. Human...

Almost.

Because Price and Ghost are experienced enough to see the thing laying beneath the paper thin veneer of normality, are seasoned enough to quickly notice the one thing that puts an 'in' before a mage's 'human' description — Magic. Not the smoke and mirror kind magicians or charlatans use to swindle tourists out of money, but real magic.

The ancient kind, the capricious kind, slumbering like a beast inside the hollowed out cavern of a heart until it awakens with a terrible bloodlust. Each of them can attest to this; Price sports gnarled patched of scar tissue on the scaleless parts of his arm from ice burns, his draconic breath having saved him from frostbite that had devoured more than a few good men. Though Ghost doesn't show much skin, one can sometimes catch sight of branching fern patterns on his neck where lightning magic had shot through him. Gaz's back is peppered with hundreds of little cuts where a glass mage's summoned elegant ornaments had shattered into millions of shards, aiming to take out his wings.

And now Soap sports a mark of his own, his side tender red and blistered with a second degree burn. It could have been much worse, your flames were hot enough to melt steel, the only thing having kept him from an early cremation being the two solid concrete walls your magic had had to travel through to hit him and the enhanced regeneration of his thick hide.

But such power demands a cost — one paid in blood. For magic is as fickle and capricious as a rabid dog, just as eager to lunge for your throat as it will at the enemies, leaving lasting wounds for all to see; rough and calloused palms, skin blackened from blazing heat and freezing cold or marked with fern patterns of electricity, fingers stiff and marred with cuts from thorns and crystals and rock and glass, bone deep cuts where the liquid mana had burst out from the skin, leaving faintly glowing scars that never heal right.

All mages are born with this grievous gift, though one never knows whether it will present itself with a pitiful flicker of embers in a man's dying breath, or with a maelstrom of an infant's first hiccup. That's why most mages are sealed, by choice or force, a process which puts chains on the magic, making it and the mage docile.

But you are unsealed. And you flaunt that fact readily by melting the tail of their APC helicopter with one spell, not even waiting for them to crash before flooding the terrain with suffocating ash, the lenses of their gas masks already fogging up from the heat as they get out of the cloud of heavy sediment before it bursts to flames.

Sometimes the magic becomes unsatisfied with the weakness of the body, demanding more than just its pound of flesh and molding the body like clay to better suit it— Mage Marks, they're called — the subtle glow of magic in your eyes, the mana visibly pulsing inside your chest, the skin of your arms slipping away like wet paper before growing anew, this time mimicking the surface of magma, or the rocky barnacle encrusted reef, the gnarled bark of a tree, the crystalline inside of a geode, the ice spiked ground of tundra, or any other form that suits the magic in your veins.

The process is excruciating, the mana burrowing and gnawing on every nerve like a parasite that replaces what it eats with itself. But to you, that's an acceptable loss, because marked mages far surpass their unmarked fellows, your magic stronger and wilder, feral and viscous like the primordial force of nature.

So it becomes concerning when you're laying on the floor, captured, battered and bruised and calm.

Ghost had been waterboarding you for a while now, your body tied to a chair that had been tipped back so you were parallel with the ground. With water pooling around your head, your top half would have been soaked to the bone had your magic not been simmering in your veins, the magic suppression momentarily reducing the raging inferno in your chest to a meager flicker of flames.

They can't kill you, but limiting your magic for even a second is death in and of itself.

Your breathing is harsh as Ghost pulls away the cloth over your mouth, asking you a question as steam rises from your skin. Most would give in long before this point, but you just grin, eyes glowing with a burning glow, and make a comment about how good his arse looks from your viewpoint.

You manage only one small note of laughter, pitiful embers sparking at the corners of your lip, before Ghost drops the rag back over your face and begins anew.

Price watches all of this, sharp draconic eyes noting how the mana glows in your chest, pulsing like a second heart (assuming you had one to begin with), noticing how the water turns to steam a little faster when it splashes over your skin.

And Price knows.

You... You are going to be trouble.

[restinslices]

Stay

Bi-Han x Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 1499

Summary: Just some sad angst about Bi-Han’s significant other leaving him from his POV. Inspired by that scene of Kaz telling Inej to stay and Inej saying she'll have him without his armor. You don't gotta know the scene to know what I'm talking about. Just follow the plot.

Bi-Han had a thousand thoughts spinning in his head and none of them wanted to quiet down.

He couldn't even focus on one. There were multiple voices in his head screaming at him, all of them wanting to be the loudest but all of them failing. It'd been like this ever since you made it clear that you were leaving.

Maybe some of this was his fault. No. Not maybe. This was his fault. He had become neglectful, and the edges he had became sharper and sharper. It seemed like he hurt you every time you got close.

Bi-Han being foolish and prideful thought it'd all go away. There was no need for deep talks, or breathers, or whatever else you managed to think of. He convinced himself it would all smooth over eventually. This was just a rough patch and it didn't seem to actually danger his relationship.

How wrong he was.

Time passed. Neglect built. Finally you two got into a huge argument and it seemed like this tipped the scales against him. You would be leaving.

He stood nearby but refused to look at you. Didn't matter though. His brain punished him anyway, making him relive the moment you slipped your ring off. It slipped off effortlessly, like it was always meant to come off. Like you two were always meant to fail.

Your stuff was gone, so he didn't understand why you were still here, but he didn't complain. You said something about grabbing a necklace, but he never saw you grab it and the last time he looked at you, you weren't wearing one.

Bi-Han had another problem besides his inability to look at you for an extended amount of time. His hands felt empty. He tried to pass time and fill that void by cleaning his mask with a hot rag, but it didn't work. It's not just that his hands were empty, it's that you weren't in them. It was weirdly funny when he thought about it. Bi-Han wasn't big on physical touch and whispering sweet nothings. He was capable of all the cutesy shit that was typical in relationships, he just didn't care for it.

But now? All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you and force you to stay. He wanted to whisper every sweet thought he had about you in your ear. He wanted to praise everything about you, and he didn't mean just your looks. He wanted to praise you about the stupidest things; your walk, how you pronounce certain words, your laugh, how you look when the sun hits you, everything. Anything to make you stay. But he didn't. He stayed silent and he assumed that silence bothered you based on your sigh.

“I guess this is it then” you spoke, and it made his heart clench in his chest as he realized this would probably be one of the last things he heard you say.

He made a small noise of acknowledgement in response.

“Am I to take your grunting as words?”.

“Goodbye” he forced himself to say, but the words came out through gritted teeth. He could hear your footsteps get closer until you were in front of him. Your soft hands touched his, only to slide his mask out his hands and onto the table. He couldn't help but look at you then, taking in and memorizing every feature you had. There were plenty of things you didn't like about yourself. You were only human after all. Bi-Han disagreed about all of it though. If there was one thing he was forced to look at until his final days, he'd choose you everytime. He was just really bad at showing it and he hated himself for it.

“Is… is there nothing else you want to say? Just 'goodbye’?”

“What else should I say?”. You nodded then and a small “ok” left your lips. His fingers started to itch the second you looked away, that emptiness making itself known again. He didn't have his mask in his hands anymore, so his fingers tapped against each other, wanting desperately to grab you.

You had only taken one step.

“Stay”.

He didn't mean to say it. He didn't even notice he said it until you turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Stay” he said more firmly. His hand grabbed your wrist as if that would trap you with him forever. The tapping stopped, finally content now that you were touching. “I want you to stay”.

“And if I don't want to?”

“I need you to stay”.

It went silent then and he wished he could read your mind. Your face gave nothing away but sorrow and as tough as he tried to act, he knew his face looked the same. “I want you…”. He meant to add something else, but what was there to add? He couldn't pinpoint what about you he wanted. He just wanted you. All of you. Good, bad, ugly. He wanted it.

“And how do you want me to be?” You said after a second. “Obedient? Obeying your will? Being at your side when it's convenient and behind you when it's not?”. He looked away, not able to take how your brows furrowed when speaking and his hand slipped from your wrist.

He felt your hand touch his cheek and move his face to look at you. He couldn't help but close his eyes and lean into your touch, finding comfort in how familiar your hand felt against him. The world was incredibly cruel. It gave him the power to freeze everything but time.

“Do you want me to stay silent? To take what you give me and ask for nothing more? To never speak up? To just accept life for what it is?”.

His eyes scrunched together. Each word felt like a dagger being twisted inside him. Your voice narrated his memories and all he could see was how many times he took you for granted. If he could, he'd beat himself over the head and yell at himself to keep you close instead of doing what was natural and pushing you away.

“I want you Bi-Han”.

His eyes opened then, hoping maybe you changed your mind.

“But I want something different. And you… I'm not sure you're capable of change”. Your hand slipped from his face and he immediately grabbed your hand. He was delusional. He hoped the physical contact could somehow reignite the spark. Stupid and wishful thinking, but he hoped the Elder Gods were listening and would answer his prayers.

“I can change” he managed to get out. It was a lot quieter than his previous words, even if he meant for it to come out powerful and assertive. Something had to change your mind and convince you to stay. He'd bring all your stuff back by himself if he has to. He just didn't want you to start moving again.

You sighed and shook your head, “you don't change. This is just who you are and I can't take that from you”.

“Stay with me. Don't go”.

“I thought the Grandmaster would never beg or plead”.

“I do”.

Bi-Han was taught from a very early age that Grandmasters didn't negotiate. They never begged or pleaded or showed any signs of weakness. They ruled over their clan with perfection and always stood tall. Unmoving. There was no such thing as weakness.

But he was so incredibly weak when it came to you. Grandmasters didn't beg or plead but Bi-Han did, and he'd beg over and over for you to stay if it'd work.

That's the thing though. It wasn't working and he knew it.

He was far too late.

“I hope you know I loved you Bi-Han”

“Loved?”

“I love you”

“Then stay”

You smiled then. A smile that had absolutely no joy in it. Only mourning. Your hand slipped out of his and you reached up to wipe away the tears he didn't even know had fell. He wondered why you weren't crying. Whenever you fought recently, you always seemed to cry. Sometimes it'd be a few tears, other times you'd storm away and he'd hear you sob. Did he exhaust you this much? You had no more tears to spill? Did he really push you that far past your limits?

“I hope in our next life we're different. I hope we spend forever together”. Bi-Han wanted to argue with you. He wanted to shout at you and tell you that all of that could happen in this life, but he didn't. You made up your mind. It was clear. He didn't know what to say anymore. You loved him and he loved you so how did he mess it up this bad?

Your hand lingered until it finally left his face for the last time. You walked away, and this time he didn't stop you.

He watched you as you went, replaying your life together in his head and what he should've done differently.

I tried to pick the least threatening gif I saw and that was actually difficult. Where is your kindness sir? Also why is the indented shit spaced out so ugly in the beginning? Summary and word count not having one long line is gonna haunt me.

[neonpaperlanterns]

Hi! I saw that you are taking request, so may I ask for some DogDay x reader? In your latest x reader, I loved the idea of DD sleeping next to us, so I was wondering if you'd be willing to write something fluffy about him comforting reader after she had a nightmare about being caught by CatNap. Reader often sleeps hugging DD because she feels safe that way, so it's only natural he'd notice when she is startled awake. Thanks! <3

[A/n: for one thank you for the request and two I hope you like it!]

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

I'm here

Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap

The faint but unmistakable sound of nails clicking along behind you made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You move faster, you need to get out of here. The clogged dim hallways of Home Sweet Home were more of a hindrance to you than to him.

You just need to get out of here.

Left, left, right, straight, left. You know the front door is around here somewhere. You didn’t go that far in this time. You know you didn’t.

So you turn, and you pivot, and you back track. 

Tap.. Tap.. Tap.. Tap.. Tap

Your breathing deepens. It’s getting closer, He’s getting closer. 

In your haste to move faster you stumble into a claw gouged wall. The rough patches bite into your skin and snags on your clothes. You need to get up but it feels as if there are thousands of tiny little talons pulling at you from the wall. 

Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap.Tap

Tears sting your eyes.

You need to leave.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap

Red, swirling, suffocating smoke is filling the hallway.

Please you just need to get up. 

Please. Please. Please!

Your eyes squeeze shut. Waiting.

There is silence. No more clicking claws. Instead coarse fur brushes along your back. The smell of old blood and rotten poppies invades your nose. It chokes you as you try to not breathe it in. Tears trickle down your cheeks as a heavy paw comes to rest on your head. It jerks you back, making your spine arch uncomfortably. 

A gaping mouth greets you, spilling more poison that you are forced to fill your lungs with. He continues to pull as claws dig into your skull. Your skin gives and thin lines of crimson spiral down your face mixing with your tears. 

Two glowing white eyes stare down at you, judging you. In that gaze you see everything.

Everything you did. Everything you didn’t.

There is no forgiveness. 

You’ve done everything and nothing and you will pay for that.

DogDay is roused from his slumber and at first he isn’t sure why. Mind foggy with sleep he tries to understand what woke him. The answer becomes obvious as small hands dig into his side. His fur bunching up under your fists as you shake. You’re mumbling something and your face is red from crying. As carefully as he can, DogDay goes to wake you up. Keeping his movements slow he brushes a hand through your hair. He watches as you jolt awake. Your eyes wide and damp with tears. You look around, searching for something he can only guess. 

“You’re alright. It’s alright.” He doesn’t pull you closer, not yet. He waits, keeps muttering out reassurances as he looks after you. 

“DogDay, where are we?” you ask softly. He knows you know where they are but he understands. He too needs the assurance that when he wakes up it isn’t back in that hell, strapped to a wall waiting for death.

“We’re in the school.” Your shoulders stiffen. “It’s alright.” he rushes out. “Remember you took care of Miss Delight. We’re safe. You’re safe. I promise.” You nod, relaxing every so slightly. 

“Okay.” Your gaze is still weary but you shuffle closer to him. Head coming to rest underneath his chin. He keeps his grip light as you begin to settle. 

“Thank you and I'm sorry.” it comes out muffled, your face is buried in his shoulder. He can’t imagine that it is the most comfortable place to be. But if you were content then so was he.

“Don’t be, I'm here for you Angel. Always and forever.”

[marieracingteam]

If you do request. I have a idea of lance stroll stepping up to be a father of Esteban kid. Esteban doesn't know he has a kid. After reading Lance stepping up to be a father.

Lancey and the word mine – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 1630

summary: Being away from home is hard for Lance. Esteban, however, is determined to do everything he can to distract his friend from thinking about how much he misses his girlfriend and his little girl, luckily for him, his plan also benefits him a lot.

Lance thought he was still dreaming when he woke up to the cries of a baby. 

Lily rarely cried anymore. She had been through a rough patch when her baby teeth started to fall out and it was common for her to wake them up crying when she couldn't sleep in fear of waking up without teeth. However, the little girl had grown out of that fear and now, luckily, it had been a long time since Lance had last heard the little girl cry.

In any case, that cry wasn't Lily's. Lance could recognise his girl's cry in a million and that, without a doubt, was the cry of another baby, one much smaller than Lily was anyway.

Still disoriented from sleep, Lance sat up in bed trying to find where the crying was coming from. That floor of the hotel was filled with his crew and none of them had hidden a baby in the room, as far as he knew. So where was that noise coming from?

Luckily, Lance didn't have to wonder for long before someone knocked on his door.

On the other side, the driver found his friend Esteban. And the culprit of his crying? The baby in his arms.

“What…?” before Lance could ask anything, Esteban was barging in his hotel room and closing the door behind him.

That baby’s wails becoming even louder in the close space.

“He is sick! I guess? I don’t know what is wrong with him!” Esteban exclaimed handing the baby to his friend.

“Who is this?” asked Lance grabbing the baby.

He couldn't have been more than three years old, despite being tall. Lance hadn't met Lily at that age, but he had memorized enough of all the photos her mother had to recognize the details.

The boy's cheeks were very red and wet from the tears that kept falling. Lance didn't even have to touch his forehead to know that the boy probably had a fever.

“Is that your...?” he tried to confirm.

“I don't know! I guess. His mother left him with me last week, she says he's my son and that I have to take care of him. I'm on the verge of losing my mind, man.” Esteban was pacing the room while covering his ears with his hands.

Lance knew that feeling of desperation when the cries of a child entered your eardrum after a few hours of non-stop wails.

“Ok, don’t panic. He just has a fever. Did he had a runny nose or complained about his ears?” Lance asked checking the baby, who continued his cries.

“I don’t know! I don’t know mate! His mother was at my door after the last Grand Prix, she said she'd come back for him when she was ready. I don't know what to do. I haven’t told anyone else. But I need your help, Lance. He's been eating mashed potatoes, vegetables, or fruit for a week now. And he's got teeth! And now he is sick! Is it because of the flight? They said he is not too young to fly!” Esteban continued rambling for some time.

In the meanwhile, Lance sat down to rock the boy, gently speaking to him in a calming voice. His ear was red and he kept grabbing it, so Lance guessed there was the problem.

Lily also had an ear infection recently after summer vacation. She had been inconsolable and writhing in pain until the children's medicine kicked in. Lance didn't want to even think about the pain the boy had to be going through without treatment.

“Just an ear infection, Esteban. It's okay. Let me get dressed and we'll take him to the ER. He'll be fine soon when he takes something for the pain,” Lance said. And maybe he lied a little when he assured him that everything would pass quickly, but he knew that was what his friend needed to hear. “But you need to call his mother and yours. Probably your lawyer too” he interjected.

“This is too much, man. Too much. I'm not ready to be a father.” Esteban cried. “And what I am going to say to the doctor? I just know is name is Bruno!”

“Ok, relax. Why don’t we call your team’s doctor? They can help you. And you need to tell them anyway. Or what are you going to do with him tomorrow during press? Or while in the car?” Lance questioned while getting dress, the boy still in his arms.

“They are going to fire me!”

“They are goint to fire you anyway if you crash with Pierre one more time! Who cares? Right now you need to think about your son!” Lance exclaimed, making the boy cry harder.

“I don’t even know if he is my son!” Esteban shouted.

“Well, maybe you should start there! Esteban, I know you are terrified right now but you need to put him first while you decide what you are going to do! You need to call your team, first the doctor and next the lawyer.” 

While they waited for the team to arrive at Lance’s room, he couldn’t help but think about how he himself became a father. Unlinke Esteban, he couldn’t point the exact moment he realise he had someone under his care. He had not found Lily one day at his door, instead, Lily had found him one night at her door.

He had never had to make that decision to love and protect her. He had never had to wonder if she was his or not. That had never mattered to him. But he understood why it did matter to Esteban. He understood why he felt the world shif under him and how scary that could be. Lance had been ready for that change but he could blame Esteban if he wasn’t. 

“That was his mother…” Esteban said after he left the room to take a call “She is coming for him”

“What did she said?”

“I texter her to tell her he was sick. She said… She said that he is mine… although she freaked out when I told her I was going to do a paternity test. She probably thought that I would get sick of him and not ask any questions as long as she took him back... in exchange for a good sum of money, obviously. She's on her way and won't bother me again if I don't call the authorities.”

“That's fucked up, man. What kind of mother abandons her son for money without knowing if he's okay? He's just a kid and she's only known you a few nights before he was even bron…” Lance whispered, careful not to wake the little boy that had finally fallen asleep.

“Well yes, but it's not my problem,” Esteban answered, plopping down on the couch in the hotel room. Suddenly much more relaxed and rejuvenated.

“He may not be your son, but it's not right!” 

"So what do you want me to do, Lance? I don’t it is fucked up but it is what it is. I know this all may seem easy for you, man, but you just help raise your girl’s baby, that’s not the same of having a baby or raising one on your own”

Lance knew Esteban was on edge, he knew. Lance knew Esteban was stress and scared, he knew he need to be gentle and understanding with him… but how could Lance be fair when he was the one being questioned about his parenting?

“Why not? Why it is not the same?” 

“Because she is not yours! I know you love her, you know I like her too! But it's not the same as her being your responsibility” Esteban tried to explain.

And Lance did his best not to scream in his face. Esteban was his friend, a good one. He was just stressed and going through some deep issues. But those words were so untrue that it made him see red.

Since when was he entitled to speak about being a father? He had certainly not wanted to be one half an hour ago! Why did no one seem to understand that Lance wanted to be a father to a child who might not be of his own blood, but was so understanding when another man put his lifestyle before raising a child that was his!?

“Lily is mine, Esteban” he said and he realized in that moment that there wasn’t an inch of doubt in him. “She is my baby girl, my responsibility, my duty and my pleasure to care for. When you have a kid for real you would understand. Blood doesn't mean shit when you look at their face and you just know”.

At that, Esteban just nodded even if he didn't quite understand. But it was fine, Lance accepted while caressing Bruno's back when he whimpered. One day Esteban would tell him he was right. Lance himself wouldn't have understood it either before meeting his girls. Life is just crazy like that, taking you to where you belong without expecting it.

And Lance couldn’t be happier with where life had taken him. He just couldn't wait to go back home. To his girls. And he just hoped maybe some day Esteban found something like that too. Bruno too.

Because if there was one thing he would never have doubted, it was that Lily deserved to be loved unconditionally by all the people in her life, her parents above all. Her father hadn't been up to the task, but he would be. Bruno also deserved a family that loved him that way and Lance was not going to let that child go with someone who was not willing to do everything possible to deserve him.

I went a little different with this one, hope you like it!

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 15

Cracker x Reader

TW: Implied parental abuse

"Hold still-" You reached for Cracker's arm with a cotton pad when he swung it away from you.

"What are you doing?!" Cracker glared at you. He just came home to relax.

"I'm trying to clean your wounds," you said, attempting to grab his hand to bring his arm back to you, and he kept holding it out of your reach.

You don't understand why your husband must be so difficult when it comes to cleaning his wounds. If Cracker tended to his injuries better, he wouldn't be so vulnerable to pain. You swear he bruises worse than a banana.

"Leave me alone, woman!" Cracker got up from his seat to move away from you only to bump into a bookshelf behind him and have a few books fall on top of his head. "Ow, STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!"

He picked up the bookshelf and threw it across the living room. Books were now scattered across the floor. You sighed but you knew the servants would clean it up later. You moved over to Cracker who now sat on the floor, pouting and holding his sore head.

"Cracker, would you please let me take care of you now?" You gently laid your hand over his.

"Fine," he grumbled, rolling his eyes to look the other way as you took his arm. Lightly you pressed the cotton pad to his arm, and instantly, he flinched and yonked his arm away. "Ow! What is in that thing?"

"It's rubbing alcohol, it kills the germs on the surface to prevent an infection, which causes severe pain later," you stated trying to grab his arm again.

Reluctantly, he lowers it back in your gasp, wincing with each press to the wound. "Ow... ow..."

"Oh, you poor baby," you coo as you delicately clean his wounds. "Mind telling me why your pain tolerance is so low? I thought all Big Mom's sons had to go through rough training to be strong."

"No-" He winced again before continuing. "We didn't have to train if we didn't want to, we just had to find a way to help Mama out with her dream to find the One Piece. Perospero took to reading books, studying the art of warfare and navigation for example, he can fight but he didn't dedicate himself to training like Katakuri."

"Hmmm, so you trained because you wanted to. Is it because of your admiration for your brother Katakuri?" You guessed.

"No- well- that's not the real reason... I just wanted to get stronger so I couldn't feel pain anymore."

"How come?"

Cracker tilted his head back, debating whether to tell you or not. "You know how Mama discards our fathers once we're born?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she didn't always do that, but my father was the last one." His tone melted into a resenting growl as he brought up his father. "Since Mama was busy a lot of the time, she didn't watch the damage he did to me." Cracker bawled his fist, trying to contain the anger rising with the memories. "It wasn't until Katakuri saw the aftermath of one of the bastard's episodes did Mama find out." His rage died out as he opened his palm again, he then turned to you with a smug smile. "And then I never had to see him again."

You smiled at him, happy your husband is now being more open with you. Finishing the bandage over his arm, you patted his arm. "There, all better now."

"What?" Cracker held up his arm to see the wound was covered in white bandages. "When did you-"

"When you were talking," you giggled heading out of the library. "Don't go anywhere, I'm going to get you an ice packet."

Cracker watched you leave, dumbfounded. Glancing at his patched arm then at the exit again, a smile curled up his lips.

Tag: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar