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#thinking about him all the time now i never thought this would happen to me
fandomxo00 · 2 days
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can you do a headcannon about Hugh getting reader pregnant and he’s like “omg how am I gonna have a kid at 55!?” But reader tells him he’s gonna be great and Hugh is like all dad mode now
hope this makes sense 😭😭
note: i'm so deulu is not funny, when i was younger i would come up with these same time of plots where like i'm related to a celebrity so i meet famous ppl and whatever or literally anything, ive come up hundrds of scenarios while i was playing outside, completely enveloped in the world. if i did that now....well lets just say im not going to and can go into so much detail when writing that its so much better.
Hugh never thought he was gonna be a father again, he never that he would have a biological child. It wasn't a loss for him, he loved his children so much. But he's nervous about how he was going to fit to your standards. He had many mistakes the first time around, and this was different for him. The love he has for you is something he hadn't ever felt before, he did need more children but Hugh wanted to give you everything. You didn't come from a loving family, you didn't feel safe for such a long time, in the beginning of the relationship you couldn't believe that he actually liked you.
You didn't think you were his type and you were in your early thirties. You'd met through the grapevine, your little sister, Gracie was getting really close with Taylor. The two of you being huge fans, you couldn't believe the two actually connected. You were closer to Taylor's age than Gracie was and the two of you became fast friends. She even invited you to help with The Era's Tour, being one of the backstage managers. That's when you met Hugh, he'd been heading towards divorce with his wife for a long time, and they were in the middle of it. You were hesitant when he was confident and respectful, the two of you getting to know each other better through different dinners and hangouts before you officially started going out with him when the divorce was finalized.
But after that things moved pretty quickly and within two years you were married to him, and deeply in love. Hugh couldn't believe that he had met you know. He'd wish that you had been a little older and he could've met you sooner. When he met you, there was this innate attraction and comfortably around each other. You were never comfortable around people you didn't know well, but Hugh made it seem like he'd known you forever. He knew about what you wanted, and he didn't even hesitate when it came to you. There wasn't anything that Hugh wouldn't do for you and vise versa.
Even though he wanted to give you children one day, he didn't realize it would be so soon. Though it wasn't and you'd been trying for awhile when you finally got a positive pregnancy test. You were so excited, even in your mood swings, weird pregnancy craves, and constant pain literally everywhere. Hugh did everything to soothe you asking you what you needed and doing that exactly for you. Listening to you carefully especially when you were so upset you were crying over something as simple as a snack or spilling a glass of water. Taking care of you reminded him of what his past looked like and what his future would consist of. He felt a warmness come over him as he did some refreshers on different parenting books. Going through a list of questions with you, things that were important for your parenting journey. It was important to compromise and listen to each other.
But one night he let out that he was indeed nervous, "I mean I'm 55, what if I'm not good at this, anymore? What if I can't be a good husband and a good dad? I mean look what happened-." He rambled, as your hand came up to his cheek. Hugh's hand coming to round pregnant belly, as you looked into his eyes.
"You are a great dad, and a great husband. And the difference between when you did this with your ex and me, is that our love is different. Right? You always told me that."
"Yeah baby, our love is different." Hugh hummed, leaning in to lightly kiss your lips.
The two of you balanced each other, it wasn't that you couldn't handle yourself without him. But rather it was just easier to be when you were with him. When you feeling like you were lacking he never forgot to remind you how valued and how much you meant to him. You tried to do the same, trying to give him hope at the end of the tunnel.
@ me for forgetting to tag ppl : @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland
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daydreamerwoah · 3 days
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Love Through It All Pt. 6
tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; mentions of therapy/counseling; a jealous and worried Ghost; slightly dirty thoughts by Ghost and Y/n
Read Part 1 for author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.
Simon usually didn't think about his job other than the typical it's a job feeling that every soldier had. But he couldn't help but hate his job more than he did when Kate Laswell informed Taskforce 141 that they would be going back to Al-Qatala at the end of the week. It meant more training, more paperwork, and more attention on the mission. He knew he had to. He was their Lieutenant after all.
But he couldn't stomach the thought of leaving you, even if it was for a few weeks this time. Not after what you two were going through. Not after what happened during the last therapy session you two had. He was still beating himself up over your confession. You - the love of his life - saying you'd be his slut? Every time he thought about it, he internally groaned. It was a battle between picturing you under him the way he truly wanted and scolding himself for doing it... at least for now. You probably didn't even want to touch him anymore.
He tried to bring up the topic that evening when he got home, but you hadn't made it easy. You were avoiding him like the damn plague, more so because you couldn't help the blush on your cheeks when he asked if you meant what you said. He was crushed to see that you even reacted to him in a way that fueled those dirty thoughts of his, only to run to the bathroom and shut the door, locking you and your feelings in there. You felt something, even for a fraction of a second, and he noticed.
"L.T.," John MacTavish - to Simon, just Johnny - walked into the small conference room where the lieutenant sat. Papers were displayed on the table as he looked at reports about the upcoming mission. Simon glanced up from the paper in his hand to look at the Sergeant. "Cap wants me to pick up dinner for us since it'll be a late one. Want somethin'?"
Simon hummed before glancing down at the papers again, "Sure."
It wasn't uncommon for the Ghost to be a man of few words. Everyone knew that. But Johnny had learned to pick up on the difference in tone when his lieutenant spoke. It made his eyebrows draw together as he slowly stepped further into the room, standing on the opposite side of the table.
"Still havin' issues at home?" he asked. It was a stupid question. Johnny knew the answer already, but it was an attempt to open up the conversation.
When Simon's eyes snapped up to look at him again, he almost gulped. It was a touchy subject, no doubt, but he knew. Simon was a private person... but his teammates were different. They had seen plenty of death and war together to not be close like brothers. The day you and Simon went to counseling, he told Johnny and Kyle since the Captain already knew. As expected, both men were shocked to learn what happened.
Just like Price, they wanted to scold him immediately. Johnny, not holding back his tongue, blurted out so many questions that his Scottish accent slipped through, and Kyle and Simon almost didn't pick up on what he was saying every few sentences. But it all came back to that simple word - why.
"Mmhm," Simon responded.
"She know ya leavin' at the end of the week?"
"Yeah."
His words were curt, and Johnny frowned, "Wanna talk 'bout it?"
The man sighed. He wanted to talk about it... but wasn't he doing that in counseling already?
"Just.... she- I know she's worried. But I.. feel like she's relieved a bit."
Johnny stuck in hands in his pockets, "How so?"
"We hadn't exactly had space to think 'bout everythin' I guess."
The Sergeant hummed as if he understood... even if he didn't. He had never gone through something like that before. Like Price, he couldn't understand how Simon spoke so highly of you at the times that he did. Whenever he asked the lieutenant how you were, Simon gave a short answer, but he could see the way his brown eyes lit up just talking about you. Yet, he cheated... with some fucking private - a new recruit at that.
But Simon was right... Every day he came home, not giving either of you any space to think.. about anything. He could have slept in his office. He should have slept in his office. But he didn't want you to think he was continuing to cheat on you. And while you could have asked to stay at Ava's house, you felt a little embarrassed about intruding on her family.
If anything, it was a good thing he was being sent off somewhere... even if it was killing him inside. His stomach twisted in knots at the thought of you packing up your things and leaving while he wasn't there. Or worse... bringing some random fucking guy home. His and your home. The home you two made so many memories in.
"Could be a good thing?" Johnny shrugged, "Who knows... maybe you'll come back and she's thought about working on your marriage more."
Or she'll think about leaving, Simon wanted to say. But he only hummed at the Sergeant once more. Johnny left, continuing his quest to get food for his teammates while Simon tried to focus back on the papers in front of him.
************************************************************************
When you received the text from Simon that he'd be home later than normal, you almost didn't react. At least on the outside, you didn't. On the inside, your heart was twisting and curling into itself. You could be mad at him all you wanted, but the other day, when he told you he was leaving at the end of the week, you almost wanted to cry... not because of him leaving in particular, but because of his job. Simon was who he was - Ghost... he was sent on dangerous missions all the time. He usually came back with bruises and cuts on his body - some deeper than others. You always worried when he left for a mission, those horrible thoughts that one day he might not come back safe...and alive. He never wanted you to worry, but that would never change.
So when the words left his mouth, you just nodded, not saying anything because you thought you would have screamed at him if you did. Not in anger... but in terror. Would he be safe? Would he think about you? Did you want him to? What if he was too busy thinking about you that he made a mistake... a mistake that could cost him his life.
Ugh.
You argued with yourself so much. You thought about the opportunity; the space you would get. It would give you time to think... really think. You could breathe a little, at least.
It was as if the universe knew you needed something to at least put a small smile on your face. Ava's sister was in town, and she invited (more so demanded) you to get dressed and go have drinks with them. If you didn't... she would be on her way to bang on your door until you opened it.
Hanging up from her, you sighed, knowing she was right. You needed a drink for sure.
Walking into the restaurant, you felt nervous yet strangely confident. Ava made sure that you put on one of the sexy dresses that she picked out for you to buy. Specifically, the one with the low v-cut. Her eyes brightened so much when you walked up to the table you couldn't but giggle at her reaction. Her sister even gushed over how beautiful you looked.
The compliments, of course, made you smile, but the silent stares of the other patrons in the building made you blush. You tried to ignore it, you really did. But when you heard a low hum from the gentleman who was sitting at the table next to you, you found your head turning to see him smiling at you. And he wasn't alone... his friend who was sitting across the table also glanced your way, taking in the sight of the smooth skin of your legs.
The noise of a snicker caught your attention as you glanced at Ava sitting beside you, "Guess they're interested in you now," she teased.
You giggled as she whispered about the two men attempting to flirt with her and her sister ever since they sat down at the table. Now that you were there... it was probably going to just get more entertaining.
Continuing to ignore the slight advances from the guys, you ordered a drink while Ava's sister started talking about her job, travels, and the last hookup she had with a random girl in Italy. It was certainly hilarious; her just don't give a fuck attitude.
"God I can't believe you're my sister," Ava joked as she sipped her martini.
"I know... you're so boring," she retorted, making the three of you laugh.
Your phone vibrated in your purse, so you pulled it out to see what the notification was.
Simon: After your session tomorrow, thought we could get lunch?
Whatever liveliness that was in your system seemed to drain away as you read your husband's text, and it was noticeable to the two women that whatever you were looking at on your phone put a damper on your mood.
Ava was the first to say something, "What's wrong?"
You quickly shook your head and put the phone back in your purse, "Nothing." When she narrowed her eyes, you blew out a huff of air, "He wants to get lunch tomorrow."
"Who does?" Ava's sister chimed in. There was a slight pause, making her glance between you and Ava with a curious look.
Ava cleared her throat, "Her husband. They're just going through a rough period. That's all." she turned her attention to you, "But that's good yeah?"
You fought to roll your eyes. He probably was using it as an excuse to ask you questions. He had been bringing up the topic of the last session ever since you walked out of that room. It was like he couldn't believe what you said... if you meant it.
Of course you did. You would have gladly let him do whatever he wanted to you. It would have turned you on so much knowing his hand was wrapped around your throat as he made you take all of him. Him. Your husband. Opening new doors and spicing things up in your marriage.
Instead, you wanted to blurt out question after question, asking him what did she have that you didn't. What was so special about her? Was it because she was a soldier and knew what it meant to be tough? But you were too afraid to ask, feeling like you would vomit if he opened his mouth to answer you.
And hurt. All of it did.
Sleeping in the same bed as him hurt. Using the shower after he was in there hurt. But what hurt the most was the fact that your heart was reaching out to him every day, begging him to go back in time and stop himself from cheating. A ridiculous thought.
Having lunch with him would only make you want to forget about it all and just act like none of it ever happened.
You quietly excused yourself before getting up from the table and walking to the bathroom. Pull yourself together Y/n, you said over and over in your head. You were out with your friend and her sister having a great time. You couldn't be crying. Especially in front of so many people who were already staring at you because of your outfit.
After taking a few deep breaths in the bathroom, you quickly glanced over yourself in the mirror. The smokey eye and dark red lip color on your face made you look... different; dark and sensual. You thought about if Simon would have even talked to you if you had always dressed this way. What he have fucked you like he did her?
You groaned and walked out before any other plaguing thoughts crowded your mind. Right as you turned the corner, you bumped into something. More like someone.
"Ah shit, sorry!" the man said. When you glanced up, your eyes widened as they met the bright blues of John MacTavish. Johnny. Simon's teammate. Shit. His own eyes narrowed for a moment before widening, "Y/n?"
"Johnny? Hi." You nervously said.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck
Johnny's eyes glanced up and down your body. Not in a sexual way... but definitely in a what the fuck are you doing here dressed beautiful like that way.
"What're y'doin' here?" He asked.
"Oh.. uh I'm here with a friend." you nervously smiled, wishing the ground would consume you by now.
"A friend?"
"Friends," you immediately corrected, "my coworker and her sister. They're over there." You pointed behind him, making him look over his shoulders to see the two women at the table glancing your way.
He faced you again and hummed, eyeing you up and down again in a way that made you blush... and not the way you did when you walked in earlier.
Was he judging you?
A frown formed on your face, "What?"
"Ghost know y'here?"
You scoffed, "Ghost is busy... like he always is," you answered, annoyance laced in your voice.
Johnny instantly realized how that question came across, and his eyes softened in an apologetic expression, "Lass that's not what I meant-"
"Whatever," you started to walk past him. Right before you got too far, you turned around, finding him already facing you, "Tell my husband I said hi. Maybe I'll be home late tonight, hm?"
"Y/n," he tried calling you, but you rolled your eyes and walked away, taking your seat back at the table.
You lied. You were going straight home after you left there. But he didn't need to know that.
************************************************************************
The moment Johnny got back to base with the food, Price, Kyle, and Simon were in the conference discussing things with Kate, who was on the monitor on the wall.
"Took ya long enough," Kyle teased as Johnny set the takeout on the table.
"Yeah yeah," he retorted.
As they took a short break to eat, Simon couldn't help but pull his phone out of his pocket, hoping to see that you responded to his text. A deep sigh escaped his throat, and Johnny couldn't help but ask if he was alright. When Simon didn't respond, Johnny felt a twinge of confusion in his stomach.
Before he brought that food back, he told himself he wouldn't say anything to his lieutenant. He didn't want to get in the middle of things. But when he saw Simon glance down at his phone several more times, he had to put the man out of his misery.
"L.T.," he said, making Simon glance away from his phone once more to pay attention, "I saw Y/n."
Simon's eyes widened slightly but it was only for a second, "Where?"
"She was at the restaurant. With her friends... might be why she hasn't texted you back yet."
He sighed, nerves calming slightly as he looked back at his phone, "Could you tell if she just come from work?"
Johnny visibly froze. The muscles in his face tensed so hard it almost looked like his face was going to burst. Surely you couldn't have just left work.. wearing those clothes. Before he knew it, Johnny commented under his breath like the idiot that he was, "Sure hope not with that dress on."
Simon's head snapped up so hard, Kyle and Price heard the popping sound it made in his bones. Johnny's eyes widened so big at his own mistake, he was about to leap out of the chair and run for his life. The room fell silent; eerily silent.
"What dress?" Simon asked, louder than he intended. When Johnny didn't answer, he damn near thought about grabbing the Sergeant by the back of his neck as he flexed his hands, "What fuckin' dress?"
"Alright alright... was just a.... very... revealing dress?" It came out more of a question than an answer.
Simon's breathing quickened upon hearing him say that. It wasn't about what Johnny said; it was the fact that he could only imagine which dress you put on. Of course, he knew you were looking stunning it in.... but he knew that if Johnny thought it was revealing, then it was fucking revealing to other men. And you probably had their eyes watching you walk in it.
He didn't like it. God he didn't like it all.
His fingers started working at typing on the screen. The other three men glanced between each other, seeing their lieutenant's body posture change. He was holding the phone so hard, they thought it might shatter in his grip.
"Ghost," Price decided to speak up. This somehow got Simon's attention before he hit the send button on the screen. "Let her be." Simon's eyes looked down at his phone, "I'm serious."
Simon groaned before tossing his phone on the table, sending it flying to the edge of the other side.
"He's right," Kyle chimed in, "I'm sure she's not doin' anythin'... she's not cheatin'"
He didn't mean it that way, but Kyle's choice of words made Simon cringe. They all knew he fucked up, and in some way, they all made sure he knew how much they were disappointed in him, even if they didn't verbally say it.
But Simon couldn't help but worry. You had asked for a divorce in the beginning. It only fueled his desperate mind with more thoughts about how going on this mission was going to mentally and emotionally kill him.
Honestly don't know how I feel about this chapter... let me know what yall think :)
Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife
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paarksunghoon · 1 day
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Hi I love your content so much I was wondering if you would to this that Jake mistakenly ordered few or one s.x toy that he would use on my later
ugh I’m so mad because I wrote this request, dropped my phone, then it disappeared. anyway hope you don’t mind I switched up the request juuuust a little.
***
Should he put it back where he found it?
Jake holds a baby blue bullet vibrator and inspects it in his hands. The whole reason why he’s in your room is because you asked him to grab a few pens from your desk before you started a study session. But now he’s discovered one of your toys and feels like he could be holding a bomb. He’d have to be a fool to pretend it isn’t a sex toy.
He gulps. Jake isn’t a stranger to this. He’s seen far too many Twitter porn videos to ignore the nature of the device and feels himself growing hotter with every passing second that ticks by. So begs the question: should he put it back where he found it?”
“Whatcha looking at?”
Jake turns around to see you standing in the doorway.
“N-Nothing!”
He panics when you step closer towards him and grab the vibrator from his hands. He watches you hold it up as if to inspect the toy, bringing it eye level until you finally look at him. Jake feels his cheeks warm up and looks down at the floor.
“Now, what are you doing with this?”
“I was just looking.”
“I asked you to grab some pens, not my vibrator.”
He wants to sink into the floor.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t have your sex toys lying around!”
The man before you swallows when you chuckle. “It’s my room, Jakey.”
He tries to picture you as you are, in your pajama bottoms and tank top with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet. You look respectable like this. You look like his friend who invited him over for yet another study session that will likely go late into the night.
Instead, all he can picture is you sitting naked on the middle of your bed with this toy pressed right up against you. Jake thinks about what you might look like when your face is contorted in pleasure and what you sound like when you come. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that before now.
“What about all the guys you’ve been sleeping with?”
You shrug. “Some were good and others were mediocre. I need something to tie me over in between hooking up with people.”
His silence makes you laugh.
“Wanna see me use it?”
Jake finds himself rock hard and hovering over your body. He doesn’t have to wonder what you look like underneath your clothes anymore. They’re discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor and you’ve got the toy pressed right against your exposed slit.
He watches in wonder and amazement when you drag the toy over yourself and studies the way your eyes close shut and how your mouth parts open to emit soft pants. Jake doesn’t know if he should look at your face or pussy. He tries to do both.
Amidst his own inner turmoil, Jake feels you pull his hand to cover your own until he’s holding the device. It feels so foreign in his hands when you push it against your pussy but he loves the way you sound when it happens. Jake loves watching the wetness ooze out of you. He can feel the vibrations against his fingertips. It’s so hot.
He fidgets with the toy, dragging it all over your pussy like he’s trying to find the spots that make you tick. He memorizes all of them and indulges your pleasure every time you moan from beneath him.
Jake wonders how you’d react if he turned the volume up a notch. He presses the button again and it roars like a small lion.
“Ah!”
The gasp alone pulls a deep moan from the back of Jake’s throat. He pushes the toy against your clit until your legs shake and hips buck against his hand. Jake uses his free one to hold your legs open and coaxes you into your orgasm, and he swears he’s never seen anything so angelic before.
Slowly, he turns the vibrations down as not to abruptly end your orgasm. He turns the device off when he sees your legs begin to still and allows you to catch your breath.
Although, it seems like the fun isn’t over. You smile at him like you know something he doesn’t.
“We should try it on you next.”
“Me?!”
***
comments and reblogs are appreciated! x
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cosmicdahlias · 1 day
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Take Me Under
a ford x reader fic
MINORS DNI
Tumblr media
warnings: NONCON, drugging, somnophilia, oral, smut
so this is a spiritual successor to my last fic, it’s not a continuation but the themes are similar
It was a warm summer night in Gravity Falls. The crickets chirped as you sat out on the porch with your research partner, Stanford Pines. You nursed your glass of whiskey that Ford had poured for you. It had been a long night of research, Ford was trying to build an interdimensional gateway, stuff you would’ve thought five years ago only existed in science fiction, but he really was a genius.
His other partner had already gone home for the night, Fiddleford. He was a good guy, a family man with a son, you believed his name was Tate. Tonight you were kind of happy Fiddleford had left already, you liked him just fine but the truth was you had feelings for his cohort.
You blushed whenever Ford looked your way, eyed his hands as they fiddled with the laboratory devices, wondering to yourself how his hands would feel on you. There were so many times you wanted to tell him how you felt, to confess your true feelings. With Fiddleford almost always present the timing never felt right, but tonight you had Ford all to yourself.
Neither of you said much, just taking in the night air. You bounced your leg nervously, you started to feel light headed but decided to ignore it. Ford studied your face, it was clear you were anxious about something.
“Y/n, are you okay?”
You bit the bullet and took a deep breath.
“Ford, I-“
But before you could get another word out the world around you began to sway, the corners of your vision going black, the darkness slowly creeping in. You felt yourself falling forward. The last thing you heard was Ford’s voice.
“Y/n? Y/n!”
-
Ford caught you in his arms, he looked down at you, not sure what to do. He shook you.
“Y/n! Y/n!”
He tried to collect his thoughts, what the hell had just happened? You were fine all day and now you were out cold. He put a hand to your forehead, it felt normal, you weren’t sick.
A chilling laugh that made the hairs on his neck stand on end echoed through his head.
“Well well well well well well well well well, looks like the perfect opportunity is right in front of you, sixer.”
Ford swallowed. “Bill?”
“The one and only. So what do you think of my handiwork?”
“Handiwork? What handiwork?”
“Oh come on, you’ve been pining after this kid for ages and you’ve been too darn afraid to do anything so I figured I’d throw you a bone.”
Ford felt a pit grow in his stomach “Bill… what did you do?”
“It’s really not that big of a deal, sixer. I just had you add a little something special to their drink.”
Ford was horrified. “Bill, that’s- you can’t-“
“Oh come off it Fordsy, you and I both know this is a golden opportunity. Do you seriously think you’re gonna have the guts to even kiss them when they’re awake?”
Ford bit his lip, Bill was right, he was a coward when it came to you.
“Mull it over, I’ll leave you two alone for now, don’t be a pussy. Byyyyyyeeeee.”
And with that things were quiet again, it was just Ford and you lying unconscious in his arms. He felt his pulse in his throat. He had wanted to kiss you, to know you intimately for so long. Would he really get another chance like this?
He stood up, and carried you through the front door. He walked through the dark shack, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet. He opened the door to his room and walked to the edge of his bed, setting you down gently on the plush covers.
He cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. He knew it was sick, but thought you looked incredibly cute passed out. Your lips were parted slightly, so kissable. He couldn’t resist, he leaned down and kissed you deeply and felt himself grow achingly hard. Fuck, this felt so wrong but he didn’t have the will to stop himself now.
His fingers traced the top button of your blouse, undoing each of them slowly, kissing his way down the valley between your breasts as he did so.
He thumbed the delicate lace of your bra, god if you hadn’t planned to be seen like this why would you wear something so sexy underneath? He slipped a hand down your back to sit you up so he could undo your bra.
He sucked in a breath as he laid you back down and took in the sight of your breasts, they were so fucking perfect. He had pictured it in his mind thousands of times but the real thing was even better than he imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. Taking your other breast in his hand, he circled your nipple with his index finger.
His cock throbbed through his pants. If this was wrong why was he so turned on? Was he really that depraved? He shook his head, trying to escape the thoughts and enjoy the moment.
He ran his calloused hands up your thighs and started to pull down your pants. He let out a small dark chuckle, matching underwear. Yeah, you were asking for this. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slid them off your legs. The sight of you elicited another sinister laugh from him. You were soaking wet, even in your unconscious state your body begged for him.
He pulled his hands off of you and began removing his trench coat, next his sweater vest and collared shirt. He unbuckled his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud thud. He slid his boxers off of his hips and let them fall over his discarded pants.
He stroked himself absentmindedly as he studied your naked body. He wished he had a polaroid camera so he could save this moment forever. He wanted to ravage you, claim you. Then it occurred to him that it would only be fair to make you cum if he was going to destroy you.
He slid himself down the length of your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His hot breath tickled your pussy. He took your clit in his mouth, his tongue flicking it rapidly. He moaned into your pussy, you tasted so fucking good. He wished that you were awake so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. He slid his index and middle finger inside of you, pumping roughly into you.
He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, your wetness dripping out of you. He worked you with a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you.
He sucked your clit furiously, his fingers fucking you with a brutal intensity. Your pussy began to spasm around his fingers, he knew you were close. He kept at his pace, wanting to push you to orgasm.
“That’s it, baby, cum for me.”
You began to pulse around his fingers, a small moan escaped your lips. He reveled in your orgasm. His cock leaked precum and twitched wildly. Nothing had ever gotten him this aroused.
He got up, dragging you head first to the edge of the bed, tilting your head back. He swiped his finger on your tongue, feeling the warmth of your mouth. He angled his cock to your lips and shoved himself down your throat.
He fucked your mouth aggressively, panting and swearing. You looked so pretty with his cock in your throat. He bucked his hips into your face, holding a hand to your neck, feeling his cock bulge in your throat.
He felt himself getting close, and pulled out. His breathing was ragged. He took a moment to collect himself before picking you up and laying you back down with your head on the pillow.
He climbed on top of you and kissed you deeply, hands fondling your breasts. He aligned his cock with your entrance and with a loud groan forced himself into you all the way to the hilt. The way your pussy gripped his cock was perfect.
-
Your eyes fluttered open, all you could see from the dim light of the bedside table lamp was a figure moving on top of you. As your eyes adjusted and you started to come back to reality it hit you just what was happening and who it was.
“FORD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“Oh, you’re awake. I’m sorry but you passed out and you just looked so perfect that I had to have you.”
You desperately tried to free yourself from underneath him, you clawed at his arms. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them down above your head.
“Don’t- ah, don’t struggle. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
“Ford, stop. Please.” You cried.
“I can’t, nngh, you feel too good.”
He fucked you hard, pumping his thick cock into you. The slick, wet sounds filling the room. He forced his lips on yours and moaned into your mouth, his tongue shoving its way to the back of your throat.
You wrestled yourself out of his grip and pushed him off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and ran for your life for the door, but Ford was faster. He tackled you and pinned you to the floor.
“Baby please don’t make this, ugh, harder than it has to be.” He whispered into your ear as you fought back against him.
He pulled you to your feet and shoved you back down on the bed, pinning your wrists once more. He was going to finish what he started. He violently forced himself into you again, his rhythm punishing. He groaned loudly and bit your neck, you whimpered. His cock twitching at the noise.
He stopped for a second, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that he had stolen off a cop during a night of possession by Bill. He cuffed your hands above your head. His hand now free to travel south, making its way to your clit. He drew circles with his fingers while continuing to brutally fuck you, causing your pussy clench around his cock. The pleasure was indescribable, god he loved it.
You tried to struggle again, but Ford held you down by the waist with his free hand. His breathing quickened, he was close, you were too. He pounded you into the mattress, the bed frame shaking.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum, I need you to cum around my cock.”
His fingers didn’t let up, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You bit into his into his shoulder and felt the skin break, the sickly metallic taste of blood flooding your mouth. That was enough to send Ford over, he cocked his head back and his moan echoed throughout the shack. You cried out as you came, tears welling in your eyes.
Ford shuddered and panted, he was spent. He rolled off of you and collapsed beside you. You laid there, shaking and crying. Ford took your face in his hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb.
“Shh shh shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He cooed. “Let me get those cuffs off of you.”
With a click of the little key your hands were released. You thought about using this as an opportunity to run, but you felt frozen. He kissed you lazily on your lips and neck, then he pulled you against his chest. His big calloused hands stroked your back. You felt strangely comforted, safe almost. You had always wanted this, to be wrapped in Ford’s arms.
Ford had desired you for so long, and now that he finally had you he wasn’t going to let you go.
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angellayercake · 2 days
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Banchetto: Formaggi e Frutta
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Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW
AO3 | Insalata | Masterpost
Selecting the pairings for cheese can be deceptively complicated. Anyone can put some cheese on a tray and call it done but for it to be truly good some serious thought needs to be done. Texture, flavour, sweet vs savoury, creamy vs crunchy, all build up to a well rounded dish. The first bite of a juicy grape paired with tang of a strong cheddar, or the sweet bitterness of cranberry with the mellow creaminess of a brie. Every element has to work together to create a bigger experience. If you make these choices with care then you will have a show stopping course and all you had to do was some slicing.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
You had been lingering in his office. He was perched on the edge of his desk with his arms locked around you, preventing you from leaving and ending your time together for the day. The two of you had been in this position for at least half an hour, every time you tried to extricate yourself he would pull you in for one last kiss which became two, then three, then he would remember another important matter you just had to discuss right now. So far you had covered Cabaret the musical, why linen was the superior summer material, his favourite type of pen to do signings and the lies he used to tell people about ghoul mating habits. And now you were discussing your favourite cheeses.
‘I honestly have to say I don’t think I have tried a cheese I didn't like,’ you admit after listening to him explain why Italian cheeses were by far the best in the world. He wrinkles his nose at you, shaking his head in disgust. As inconsequential as these topics were, you enjoyed hearing his typically outlandish opinions and his passionate defence of them. You may have even been guilty of disagreeing with him deliberately from time to time just to enjoy his attempts to convince you of his point of view. 
‘Even the stinky ones?’ He looks like even just thinking of them is a displeasure he can’t abide, the charmingly emphasised wrinkles above the bridge of his nose almost distracting you from his argument. ‘The French, thinking they can get away with crimes against dairy just because of a few good ones,’ he grumbles, pulling a laugh from you. 
‘I think the English are guilty of that too, I am afraid,’ you remind him. ‘Have you ever tried Stinking Bishop?’
‘Ugh!! Never and I never will,’ he shakes his head again refusing to even entertain the thought. ‘But, cara mia, that is why everything Italian is far superior,’ he says, lifting his eyebrows suggestively and you suspect he isn’t just talking about cheese any more.
‘With what I have learned in the last few months I can’t say I disagree,’ you reply against his lips as he is already reeling you in for another kiss. You don’t let him distract you for too much longer though this time. ‘I don’t think you should judge a cheese until you try it with accompaniments though. The right flavours paired with the right cheese can make all the difference.’ 
‘I suppose there is some truth to what you say, mia cuocoina,’ he trails off for a moment looking like he is waging a battle internally before he takes a deep breath and continues. ‘Speaking of cheese, did you know there is a farmers market in town this weekend? I have heard they have very many types of cheese on sale there.’
‘I had heard, yes. It happens every month.’ You think back fondly to those trips out of the Abbey with Mona. ‘We used to take it in turns to go and pick up some obscure ingredients as a challenge for the others. I haven’t had a chance to go for a while.’
‘Would you like to go to this one? With me?’ His hesitancy makes your heart melt. How this man could ever think you wouldn’t want to go with him you have no idea? As if you don’t willingly spend almost every moment of your free time with him.
‘Are you asking me on a date, Terzo?’ You tease, hoping to ease his worry a little. The two of you may have done everything backwards but you can’t help the little thrill you get from the idea of him taking you on a proper date. He had been watching you nervously as he waited for your response but at your gentle teasing the corner of his lips pulled up in a smile even as a light blush crawled across his cheeks. 
‘Si, I am,’ he says simply, lifting his head and looking you directly in the eyes, hypnotising you for a moment in his gaze.
‘I would love to go with you,’ you reply as soon as you snap out of it, not wanting to leave him hanging any longer. His wide smile always takes your breath away and you stand there for far too long, just grinning at each other before you realise you do really need to leave. You give him one last kiss before making your way back to your room, mind full of your upcoming date. 
The morning arrives and you are up early having explained to Terzo that the earlier you get there the better. It would be less busy, you got the best pick of the produce and all the tasters won’t have sat out for so long. Taking your advice he had agreed to leave the Abbey around nine, and also on your advice you both were skipping breakfast, not wanting to fill yourselves up before you get there. But his morning coffee is non-negotiable… 
After getting ready you let yourself into his rooms and start the coffee machine. You can hear him moving about already so you don’t worry about getting him up, but instead have time to fuss about… well, everything. You smooth your hands over your outfit as you wait letting your nerves get the better of you for a second. It’s not to say you didn’t usually make an effort with your appearance, you did, but your clothes and hair had to be practical when cooking even if just for him. This was the first time you had had the opportunity to dress up and for some reason it had your stomach in knots. 
You wore your hair down today, letting the dark waves cascade down your back where they were usually secured in a bun and your make up was light as you had considered the time of day - just a subtle base and some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick to add a little emphasis to your features. The dress you picked was one you had never worn before. It was black, as was the majority of your wardrobe, but the light cotton fell softly over your figure, the hem ending at your mid-calf. It was buttoned up from your chest to your knees, giving a glimpse of leg and decolletage you hoped would capture his attention without flaunting too much. The puff sleeves and broderie anglaise finish the look and make it, in your opinion, the perfect dress for a date at the farmers market.
Just as you finish the coffee you hear him come to the door. You turn around a cup in each hand to catch him frozen in the doorway. With one hand he is clinging to the door frame and then other is laid dramatically over his heart. He is looking at you as if he has never seen you before. He looks incredible himself, his hair slicked back as you had not seen it for a long time and his face surprisingly clear of his paints, given you were leaving the Abbey. He is wearing an off-white revere collar shirt, habitually unbuttoned half way down his chest over tailored linen trousers in a soft dove grey with black woven loafers. He has a matching linen blazer over his arm, and he looks like he has just stepped out of the pages of a Milanese fashion magazine.
‘Good morning, Terzo,’ you greet as you go to hand him his coffee but he ignores it in favour of pulling you in for a kiss, letting go of the door frame and instead wrapping his arm around your waist and letting his hand glide down your body over the smooth fabric. You hum into his mouth enjoying his attentions but slightly worried about spilling coffee on you both as you hold them over his shoulders. ‘I could get used to this sort of greeting,’ you say when he lets you pull away, still seemingly at a loss for words. 
‘Grazie,’ he whispers, finally taking his coffee and savouring the first sip before continuing, letting his eyes roam all over you. ‘You are, well… beautiful doesn’t even cover it, I think. Sei una visione di bellezza, come non ne ho mai viste.’ He does this every now and then, slipping into his native tongue when he can’t seem to find the words to express himself in English. You don’t understand what he is saying but the sentiment is clear, so you let the melodic words wash over you and let your smile widen in response. 
‘You are looking very handsome today too.’ You cup his cheek with your now free hand and let him nuzzle into your palm. ‘I have been looking forward to this all week.’ 
‘Me too, cara mia.’ He places his hand over yours before taking it in his. ‘Are you ready to go?’
‘I’ve got my coffee, I've got you, I don't think I need anything else. And if we leave now everyone will still be at breakfast so we shouldn’t be bothered.’ With a nod and a smile he leads you from the kitchen through his rooms and out to the corridor, pausing only to lock the door behind you. You realise then that this is probably going to be the first time he has left the Abbey since returning from the last tour and what a big step this must be for him, as well as the two of you. You walk through the corridors quickly, leaving a plausible distance between you in case you were seen by anyone but before you reach the main entrance he leads you down an old corridor that, as far as you knew, only led to an older unused wing of the Abbey. 
‘Where are we going?’ You ask him as you follow him along the twists and turns of the dusty corridor but he just shushes you and continues as though he is looking for something. To your surprise he ignores the few doors you pass coming to a stop at an old painting covered in dust, which depicts what you can only assume is a life-sized satanic knight posing in his armour in the landscape of hell. Without any further explanation he feels around the edge of the frame until you hear a click and the painting swings forward revealing a secret set of stairs leading down to a door where you can see slivers of daylight seeping in where it has warped in its frame. Taking your hand he helps you down the steps before having to give the door a shove once, then twice before it opens and you find yourselves at the side of the main Abbey just outside the tall garden wall.  
‘This is the way we used to go when we didn’t want anyone to see us leaving,’ he says, shooting you a mischievous grin. ‘When we were boys especially and the older sisters wouldn’t give us the time of day we would sneak into town…’ He trails off realising the story he was about to tell you and his expression turns a little sheepish. ‘Well, you know how teenage boys can be.’ You shake your head at him good naturedly but take his offered hand so he can lead you down what is clearly a well trodden path through the public gardens to a side gate that opens on the main road into town.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The first and arguably most important consideration when preparing a dish like this is making everything bitesize. Slice things too small and the flavours will not balance well, slice things too big and you will end up with all sorts of mess, but getting it just right? A slice of cheese, a piece of fruit, a spoonful of chutney, a sliver of meat could all fit on a cracker and be eaten in one perfect bite.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It is a short pleasant walk especially on a morning like this. The Abbey is about half a mile from the town and despite the occasional comment or funny look, the residents seem to have accepted sharing the area with a satanic church a long time ago. The residents of the Abbey brought a lot of business to the local shops and trades people, doing their best to contribute to the community they were fringe members of which served to strengthen the tolerance of their presence. You yourself had good relationships with the local food stores, avoiding spending your budget at the supermarket as much as you could, so you had never experienced anything but a sideways glance from some of the more conservative members of the community. 
After about fifteen minutes you reach the town square which is already bustling with life even at this early hour of the weekend. Rows and rows of stalls fill the usually open space and there are already plenty of shoppers drifting from stall to stall. Having finished your coffees, you take his and put them in the nearest bin before pausing so you can come up with a plan of action.
‘When I come with Mona we try to be strategic,’ you explain as you try and suss out what the closest stalls are selling.
‘Oh, and why is this? To get the best produce? The best deals?’ He asks inquisitively, tilting his head as he thinks. You wish you could say those were the reasons but it was much less professional.
‘Nope. It is so we don’t get too full before we have eaten everything we want.’ He laughs loudly, clearly surprised at your reasoning but you try your best to keep your face straight. ‘It is important you know!’ you insist as his laughter calms.
‘You have been training me up for this moment, no?’ he says, patting his belly and winking at you knowingly.
‘Bigger appetites than yours have been defeated by the farmer’s market tasters, I will have you know,’ you respond, doing your best not to get distracted by his insinuation.
‘Psh, I could eat one of everything and still have room for whatever delicious dish you have planned for tonight.’ He winds his arm around your waist pulling you against his side as you walk together to the first stall. You can’t keep up your serious façade, his confidence and manhandling bringing a flush to your cheeks, at least until you realise what he said.
‘Need I remind you it is Saturday and my day off.’ You prod him in the side in retaliation and he jumps slightly when you catch his ticklish spot. He grabs your finger before you can poke him again, a little tug of war ensuing before he lets you free with a stern look.
‘Well I can cook for you then,’ he says, snapping his fingers as the idea comes to him. You dip your head for a moment, your chest feeling full at his insistence you spend even more of today together. Until the reality of him cooking anything for you sinks in. You had long suspected that he lacked even the most basic cooking skills, which was confirmed the only time you ever let him try to help you.
‘And what exactly are you going to cook for me?’ You ask as you reach the first stall filled with assorted jars of conserves and jams.
‘I will cook…’ He pauses, looking around at the closet stalls. ‘Cheese!’ he exclaims loudly, drawing some looks and a chuckle from the cheesemonger a couple of stalls over. He clears his throat, quieting his voice. ‘Cheese, cara mia, like we talked about the other night. Cheese and crackers and fruit and chutney. Like this!’ He picks up a jar of spiced cranberry chutney from the stall.
‘That will be 55 krona please, sir,’ the lady behind the stall tells him. He hands the jar to you and fishes his wallet out of his pocket, handing her cash and insisting she keep the change. 
‘That’s not exactly cooking is it,’ you scoff, putting the jar in one of the many tote bags you had thought to bring along. ‘But that being said, I would be happy to join you this evening.’ 
‘Maybe not but I can assure you I will put a lot more effort into dessert,’ he replies with a smirk as he pulls you towards the cheesemonger. ‘Now, Signior, I need a selection of your best cheese for mia cuocoina, and a little advice.’ 
He leads the way around the market, insisting on tasting this and that and asking questions of the vendors about flavour pairings and serving suggestions until your tote bags are beginning to weigh you both down. You find a bench at the edge of the square and flop down onto it taking the weight off your aching shoulders. He follows after you, sliding the bags to one side so he can sit right beside you. 
‘Try this, cara mia,’ he holds a small pastry to your lips, one he has already tried if the tell tale crumbs around his lips were anything to go buy. You almost refuse, your tactical plan having flown out the window long ago at his insistence you taste test almost everything. He looks at you beseechingly though and you cave, opening your mouth and allowing him to feed it to you. Before he can pull away though you close your lips around his fingers, getting your own back the only way you can right now. He freezes, his pupils blown wide as he watches you suck the tips of his fingers. 
‘Fancy seeing you here.’ A voice you recognise breaks through your lustful haze. You almost choke between the pastry and Terzo whipping his fingers from your mouth as if they were burning. You swallow your mouthful without even registering if it was nice or not as you turn to see Lilly and Rich stood before you. You jump up quickly, offering them each a hug, then trying to stand between them and Terzo, wracking your brain to explain why you were out in public with Papa's fingers in your mouth. 
‘Hi guys, what a lovely surprise. You should really try the pastries from over there, they are very good…’ You can feel your face burning completely at a loss on how to explain away what they must have seen.
‘Will Papa hand feed them to us as well?’ Rich asks sardonically, looking at you with your eyebrows raised as if waiting for an answer. At least until Lilly elbows him sharply in the ribs. 
‘It’s so nice to see you and to see you too, Papa. Hello!’ She says leaning around you to offer Terzo a wave. He stands dusting crumbs from his face and his shirt and carefully keeping some space between you as he shifts to see them both. 
‘Hello, Sister…’ He glances at you and you realise he has never met them before and some introductions are in order.
‘Lilly, Ter… Papa, this is Lilly and Rich. We work together in the kitchens.’ Lilly smiles at him offering another wave which he returns but Rich still doesn’t look impressed, clearly wanting to confront you both on what he saw.
‘Ah, si. Hello, Sister Lilly and Brother Rich. And I can assure you those pastries are delicious whether fed from my own hands or not.’ He switches his Papa persona on, and it’s a little jarring after all this time. ‘Sorella here, I have tired her out having her carry all these bags of things I wanted. I thought I better not tire her arms any further.’ 
‘Right,’ Rich replies slightly at a loss for words. You don’t think his story has helped the situation at all but though he looks a little awkward and uncomfortable, it doesn’t seem like Terzo really minds the two of you getting caught, so you take a deep breath and relax.
‘All this shopping and eating… I could do with another coffee, I think. Si…’ He nods to himself, already heading towards the coffee stall. ‘Anyone else?’ He asks almost as an afterthought and you all nod. ‘Four coffees then, ok.’ The three of you watch him go but as soon as he is out of earshot, they both turn to you.
‘What the hell was that?’ Rich asks in an angry whisper. ‘I thought you were just doing your job and he was far too stressed about getting fired to try it on? Not that it looked like he had to try that hard…’ He had always been protective of the three of you, but you couldn’t help feeling defensive when he had no idea what had been growing between you.
‘Oh leave her be, they both looked happy while they were doing it. What does it matter?’ You smile at Lilly appreciatively, thankful for her understanding.
‘Guys, please just listen.’ You knew you had to explain something. ‘We, well, look, we just-’ You can’t even find the words to start. It’s not like with Mona where you can tell her everything and she just understands, not that you have time for that anyway. You glance over to the stall and see him standing in line, carefully studying the menu and certainly not looking back over every few seconds. ‘I… I can’t really explain what we are; not at the moment,’ you sigh. ‘But Lilly is right, we are happy, everything is fine.’ 
‘You do look happy, and he looks better too.’ Lilly says reassuringly and you breathe a sigh of relief. 
‘Yeah, no one can accuse you of slacking on feeding him.’ Both you and Lilly turn to glare at him.
‘Don’t be a dick, Rich!’ she admonishes him, treating him to another elbow to the ribs.
‘What?’ He says defensively rubbing his side. ‘He is looking a lot more well-fed than he ever did before.’ It isn’t an apology but it is probably as close as you will get from Rich. 
‘Could you guys just keep this between us, please?’ You feel like you are begging, but the last thing you want is people finding out about the two of you through gossip. You hadn’t really thought about it or discussed it but you were sure that Terzo would like to tell his brothers himself when the time was right.
‘Keep what? There’s nothing to tell anyway, right Rich?’ She threatens him with her elbow one last time but relents when he agrees with a flinch.  
‘Right, nothing to tell.’ The three of you look at him just as he looks away sharply and he gets handed the tray of coffees. You feel a little relief but the silence is awkward as you wait for him to make his way back over. 
‘Caffè for everyone!’ He announces on his return and you each take a cup.
‘Thank you Papa, that was very kind,’ Lilly thanked him genuinely. ‘But we better get going. We have a list. Mona has really taken to bossing us around since you've been gone.’ You know she is joking, but it still sends a pang through you. As happy as you are in your current position, you do miss them. ‘Anyway, it was lovely to see you! Bye!’ She grabs Rich by the elbow and drags him away with only one last glare over his shoulder. 
‘Terzo, I’m sorry,’ You say slumping back onto the bench.  
‘They didn’t know about us?’ He asks cautiously. He sits beside you but leaves enough space to be considered decent and keeps his hands to himself. You can’t decide if you are disappointed or not. 
‘No, they didn’t.’ You shoot him a sideways glance and he is looking down at his coffee, his expression unreadable. 
‘So, you haven’t spoken to anyone about…?’ He trails off, neither of you at a point of being able to define what is going on between you. ‘Even before, you didn’t seek out your friends?’
‘Well I did… Mona, but I trust her. She would never say anything.’ He holds up a hand to halt you and you feel a bubble of panic starting to grow in your chest.
‘That’s not what I meant, cara mia.’ He finally looks at you now and the bubble dissolves. His eyes are warm, full of care. ‘I am glad you spoke to your friend about this, just as I am glad of her discretion. I would hate to think about you being so upset and also alone.’
‘You were dealing with it all alone.’ His hand rests on the bench between you and you place yours over the top. It feels wrong not to be touching at all during such a conversation. 
‘Ah, I am used to it,’ he says, brushing you off. ‘I am used to it.’ He turns his hand under yours loosely lacing your fingers together. ‘And anyway, I am not alone anymore am I?’ It’s a slow smile that grows across his face, like he is only just realising it now. 
‘No you aren’t,’ you confirm, squeezing his hand and returning his smile. If you had your way he would never be alone again. 
‘May I ask,’ he pauses like he isn’t sure he wants to ask what he is about to say. ‘Why you didn’t tell your other friends?’ But this is something you can easily offer him an answer to.
‘Well it’s just… Lilly is young, she is only twenty. It feels a little odd talking to her about relationships when she feels like a little sister, and Rich? Well, he is the biggest gossip in the whole kitchen. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but he just gets a little carried away sometimes.’ You can’t help your fond smile. ‘And he is pretty protective of us, even if he can be a little bit of a dick about it.’
‘I see, I see.’ He seems happy enough accepting your reasons. ‘Are you ok?’ He inches a little closer now, already over keeping a sensible distance. 
‘Yeah, I am.’ You decide even as you are saying it. The confrontation with your friends could have gone better, but it could have gone a lot worse. And it’s better you get caught by your friends then any other random inhabitant of the Abbey. In fact, you should have foreseen this happening, going out together so close to home. You wonder if he feels the same though. ‘Are you?’
‘Si, I think it is time to go home though,’ he says and you nod in agreement. You think you have both had enough excitement for today. ‘I called for a car while I was waiting for the coffee,’ he admits a little sheepishly. 
‘Oh, thank Satan.’ Your relief is palpable, both your full stomach and your sore shoulders thankful. ‘I thought we were going to have to carry all of this back.’ 
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Presentation is the second most important consideration and for that you need a suitable foundation. Depending on the number of people you are catering for you need a vessel large enough to hold enough food. The material is less important, dictated by aesthetic preference, whether you prefer wood, glass, slate or porcelain. Consider whether you need vessels for particular ingredients, additional cutlery to serve. By planning for all eventualities you make sure the meal is a success.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
With a plea from you and an order from Terzo a ghoul assists in carrying the bags back to his rooms, leaving them on the kitchen table before departing to wherever it is ghouls go when off duty. You begin to unpack, starting to sort out the haul to put in the appropriate storage but he comes behind you taking your wrists in his hands and steers you back out of the kitchen. 
‘Mia cuocoina please,’ he murmurs against the back of my head. ‘I need peace for the art I am about to create.’ You try to suppress your laugh but it comes out an inelegant snort.
‘I can help,’ you reply, twisting in his arms to look at him. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do.’ 
‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘It is my turn to make food for you!’ He continues shepherding you backwards towards his office. ‘Go have a nap, visit friends, whatever.’ he drops a kiss on your lips before spinning you back around. 
‘You may come back in two hours,’ he swats at your ass as he opens the door and lets you out into the hallway. 
You pause for a moment wondering where you even wanted to go. Going back to your rooms wasn’t very appealing, there were no distractions there and you knew the time would crawl by. The kitchens were out of the question right now if you didn't want to be subjected to the interrogation you were spared in town, something you were keen to avoid as long as possible. The gardens were an option except you could still feel the ache in your arms from carrying the bags around the market and you know for certain if Primo catches you in the garden there was no chance you would be leaving unencumbered by whatever vegetables he could give you. 
Your wandering takes you past the upper clergy offices, mostly dark and unused of a Saturday afternoon but you spot movement behind one of the doors and you are not surprised when you realise whose it is. There is only one person you know that would willingly work on a Saturday and fortunately that was a person you had been meaning to speak to. Since you and Terzo had joined his brothers for lunch in fact. You had no sweet treats prepared for him today but you were sure he could do with a break. He could always do with a break. 
Approaching the closed door you knock softly and wait for him to answer and the slightly frantic scuffling you can hear lets you know you won’t have to wait long. But a few moments pass before he answers the door. His exhaustion is plain on his face, sadly not much different than any of the other times you have seen him lately. 
‘Sorella,’ he says with a tired smile when he registers it is you at his door. ‘How can I help you today?’
‘I found myself at a loose end and saw you were working!’ You explain as he holds the door open for you and gestures to the seat before his desk. ‘And why are you working on a Saturday?’
‘There is so much to do and so little time,’ he says, flopping back into his chair with a heavy sigh. ‘I was not busy today anyway so I thought why waste time when there is so much to catch up on.’ The clergy’s decision to remove Terzo from his position has caused more problems than you had first thought. You can’t help thinking how odd it is that no new Papa had been appointed after all these months when there was clearly a need but you set that aside for now.
‘Even you need a break Cardinal.’ You struggle to keep the worry from your voice.
‘Well you are here, let's have a break now.’ His smiles grows more genuine as he speaks. ‘I wished to speak with you anyway.’ 
‘Yes me too,’ you agree. It makes it easier now that he has brought it up himself. ‘I have been meaning to come and see you since the lunch but well, you know Papa, he was keeping me busy. Even on my day off he had me going into town with him to the farmers market.’ You are starting to worry your blush is becoming permanent and you hope your smile isn’t as sappy as it feels. If you plan to continue keeping your relationship quiet you really need to get better at schooling your reactions. 
‘Si, I imagine Papa has lots to keep you busy.’ he agrees laughing but his face turns serious. ‘He is.. Well he is treating you well Sorella?’ He pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully, his fingers coming up to play with his moustache nervously. ‘Like a gentleman? When things are hard I think sometimes he can forget he is a good man.’ You sense that Copia may be talking from personal experience and having seen that side of Terzo yourself you are keen to reassure him.
‘I think I understand what you mean, Cardinal, he …’ You pause thinking over your wording just as carefully. ‘When I first began working for him he was different, while everything was fresh but he, we, found a compromise. He has apologised for some of his more thoughtless actions.’ Copia raises his eyebrows and you panic momentarily. ‘Oh nothing so bad and really, I had a lot of sympathy for his situation. I wasn’t expecting him to be at his best.’ 
‘It was regrettable what happened.’ He takes off his beretta and runs his hands through his hair. ‘It .. well it was unexpected for all of us, I think but it is good to see him doing better.’ He does look genuinely relieved even though the situation has clearly impacted him. ‘All this food seems to be doing the trick eh?’
‘The food probably has helped, yes,’ you laugh, and the rest you thought, keeping that to yourself. ‘But I think it is really just time, Cardinal.’ He would have improved with or without you over time but you do like to think you have helped him move on a little faster then he may have done otherwise. 
‘Now, can we discuss those notes you brought me to translate?’ His direct questions bring you straight back down from your romantic imaginings.
‘I was waiting for you to bring them up.’ You know you owe him something of an explanation  but you are not above waiting to see what he has worked out for himself.  
‘They, well I suppose I don’t know enough to say really,’ he begins confidently before tailing off. ‘But they didn’t read like professional recipes.’
‘That's because they weren’t but Cardinal, it’s not my place to say more, not that I even really know anymore.’ In this at least you can be honest. You could probably make a good guess as to who wrote out the recipes but you aren’t willing to voice that now. ‘He gave me some recipes and he never said where they came from or why that was all he wanted and I didn’t feel it was my place to ask. There were things said at lunch that might have given me some clues but even so.’ 
‘Si, before. I noticed that too.’ He takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘It has not been long since I was considered an outsider to them and outsiders really know very little by design. If it hadn’t been announced that I was also Nihils son then that would still be the case. But even though I never grew up the way that they did, well Secondo and Terzo anyway, I was here in the Ministry already and I saw what happened.’ 
You say nothing, waiting for him to continue sensing his need to unburden himself. 
‘I was brought up as an orphan you see and while most children in the church are brought up communally, orphan or otherwise, the Emeritus brothers were always separate.’ He switches into lecture mode but you still hang on his every word. There were very few people you mixed with who had been a member of the church for so long. ‘Primo has always been here, his mother was a Sister of great reputation chosen especially to birth an heir but Terzo and Secondo, their mothers must have met Nihil on his travels because they weren’t brought to the church until the were ten, Secondo only a few months before Terzo.’  
‘What happened to their mothers?’ A part of you feels bad even asking but your curiosity wins out. You would not feel comfortable asking Terzo himself this but it feels like the last piece in a puzzle you had been building since you had accepted this position. 
‘They just carried on with their lives I suppose. I know Primo fought with Nihil about it, that their mother’s should have been invited to join them or at least to visit but it was decided. No distractions, they had had ten years of normal life and now they were to prepare for their future as men of the Emeritus line.’ His expression turns wry as he continues. ‘It makes me almost glad that he didn’t acknowledge me until recently. I might have liked having brothers growing up though.’ You pat his arm where it rests on the desk offering what little comfort you can.  
‘Anyway I know Terzo’s mother tried for a while, sending packages of food and presents for him but I don’t know what happened after that. One day they just stopped coming.’ Your heart clenches, for Terzo, for Copia, for all of them. They may be in some of the most powerful positions in the Clergy but it was clear they had all been forced to sacrifice a lot for the privilege. 
‘It sounds like it wasn’t easy for any of you.’ Like any organisation there were machinations going on far above the notice of normal members like yourself, you weren’t naïve enough to think otherwise but you found it jarring learning that somewhere that had felt immediately like home and safety to you had treated these men so poorly.  
‘No I suppose not.’ He rubs his hands over his face, the conversation having turned heavier than either of you expected. After a moment he offers you a tired smile. ‘Now tell me more about this farmers market.’ You while away the rest of the time describing in detail the stalls and the tasters and when you eventually leave you hope you both are feeling a little lighter. 
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Once you have your vessel and your ingredients prepared then all that is left is the arrangement. There are endless ways to arrange the food enticingly. If you want your dish to be eye-catching and mouth watering you must consider the balance of colour and texture. You can create contrast with light and dark meats or cheeses. You may introduce pops of colours with fresh fruits and berries and mix textures with a soft cheese, a juicy fruit and a crisp cracker. Complimentary flavours could be grouped, the arrangement of your board encouraging certain combinations both traditional and daring. Your final result will be a visually appealing and delicious dish to present.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It’s been a long time since you have had to knock before entering his quarters but it feels appropriate now, giving him a chance to finish the final touches to his creation before you enter. You almost reach the point of knocking again, wondering if he hadn’t heard you when he pulls the door open. He was still wearing his shirt and trousers but he had borrowed your apron.
‘This looks good on you,’ you tease, pulling at the strap around his neck, but he only takes your hand and leads you inside.
‘Now cara mia you are in for a treat if I do say so myself.’ When you reach the dining room he stops you, placing his hands over your eyes as he guides you the final distance. ‘No peaking now,’ He says as he positions you at the end of the table. 
‘Ta daaa,’ He uncovers your eyes and as you blink you can’t help but be impressed. The centre of the table is covered in what may be every plate in the kitchen; each one has a different cheese and its suggested accompaniments arranged around it. You had fought valiantly for any cheeses other than Italian but he had refused to budge keen for you to taste all of his favourites. He pours you a glass of wine, a deep red and hands you a glass. 
‘This is Barolo, aged in oak caskets it is the most decadent of Italian wines. The King of wines they call it.’ You take a sip and examine the flavours. It is rich, fruity and floral but with an earthiness that should pair well with your meal this evening. You were by no means a wine expert but your palette was well developed over your career and you can tell an expensive wine when you taste one. 
‘Terzo this is very extravagant,’ you stop when he raises his hand.
‘You deserve the best, cara mia, as does this cheese!.’ He gestures across the table and you survey all the options before you, savouring another sip of the wine. In the middle he has laid out a selection of crackers, water, butter and grain in a variety of different shapes. There was crumbling gorgonzola drizzled with honey to calm the bite of the blue veins and topped with quartered grapes and shelled pistachios. Slices of nutty pecorino sit between folded slices of ham generously filled with halved figs and walnuts. Cubes of provolone mixed with slices of olive oil, cured sopressata and green olives and taleggio and apple slices wrapped in salty prosciutto. Finally a bowl of whipped mascarpone, dark red cherry and balsamic dressing pooling between the peaks and whole cherries and pecans sinking into the soft cheese. 
He pulls out your chair for you, getting you comfortably seated then he goes to take off the apron before joining you at the table waiting as you take in the whole spread. It is strange being on the receiving end of such a gesture. You can’t remember the last time someone had prepared an extravagant meal for you like this, even if he had only sliced and arranged the food, it was clear how much effort he has put in to impress you.
He lets you start helping yourself to the plate closest to you when you struggle to decide where to begin with so many enticing options. The two of you are quiet for a time only pausing to express your pleasure with the flavours to each other. After trying at least two helpings of each cheese you sit back with your wine before your stomach begins protesting after your second round of overindulging for the day.
‘Thank you for doing this Terzo,’ you say as you watch him assemble another mouthful. ‘I’m not sure I remember the last time someone did this for me.’ He pauses before taking a bite, looking at you in surprise.
‘Is that so?’ He looks thoughtful as he finishes off his mouthful, getting every trace from his fingers. ‘You are very welcome, cara mia. In fact I enjoyed doing this more than I thought.’ 
‘Am I out of a job now?’ You joke just to watch his eyes widen in panic.
‘Hold on no no!’ He shakes his head emphatically. ‘I did not mean that at all. I will always prefer your incredible cooking.’ 
‘I suppose I will stick around then,’ you reassure him.
‘Thank Satan as much as this was fun. I could not imagine doing it everyday, multiple times.’ He looks exhausted just thinking about it. ‘You are a superwoman, mia cuocoina.’ 
‘I’m not, I just enjoy it,’ you explain. You always had since you were young and had followed your mother around the kitchen.
 ‘Why do you think you were so drawn to cooking?’ He asks. It wasn’t something you had thought much about before. It had just been a fact of your life. 
‘Well I like food obviously,’ you say with a laugh but you pause as you think of what it is you enjoy most about it. ‘I think it's just such a big part of our lives, we have to eat to survive so why not make that as enjoyable as we can?’ Of course it is your job and has been for the longest time but there is a more personal element to it, especially when it comes to people you care about. ‘And you know if you can cook you can make your friend a delicious soup when they are ill, you can make their favourite pasta dish after they just got dumped or you can bewitch a man by making his stomach fall for you first,’ you finish with a wink.
‘Mmmm I see,’ he says sipping his wine, his eyes going heavy lidded as he regards you. ‘So this was your plan was it?’ His voice goes deep and teasing and you shift in your seat. 
‘No, just a happy accident.’ You lean towards him without even noticing, so easily drawn into his orbit. ‘I think my food was just too good for you to resist.’ He nods in agreement, conceding to your point but this conversation is far from its end.
‘And what about you?’ He holds your gaze, keeping you attentive to his every word. 
‘What about me?’ You ask, tilting your head not quite understanding his question.
‘What made you unable to resist your Papa?’ You swallow thickly. There are so many reasons you wouldn’t even know where to start.
‘You don’t need me to tell you how irresistible you are.’ you say instead. You aren’t against stroking his ego usually but you know he is well aware of his affect on people and you in particular. 
‘I have my own charms. I am in no doubt about that.’ He says confidently and you know it is true. ‘You though? I think it is a little different than any I have seduced before.’
‘Oh?’ You have an inkling where he is going with this. You had your suspicions that there were a lot more feelings involved then either of you were used to in your past relationships but this didn’t feel like the build up to a heartfelt confession. He was looking at you as if he had been leading you to a trap and you had just fallen in. 
‘You like feeding me.’ he states, matter of fact, placing his wine glass down on the table.
‘Yes we have discussed that.’ You are sure the two of you had discussed how you enjoyed taking care of him even as early as your first dinner together.  
‘No we haven’t. Feed me.’ His voice is hard but not cold as he orders you but you hesitate.
‘What?’ You think back trying to clear your confusion and you remember the lunch or more specifically just before when you had been reassuring him in his bedroom. You had known then that he wouldn’t drop that forever but it still didn’t make you any more prepared. 
‘I am not yet satisfied. Feed me.’ You swallow again, unable to control your body's reaction to his strict demands. You want to obey him, to feed him but again you hesitate. 
‘Terzo …’ He gives you a stern look cutting you off before you can continue. ‘Papa?’ It comes out as a question but it seems obvious what he wants. He rewards you with a smirk. 
‘I want some more gorgonzola, si,’ He encourages as you take a water cracker and begin to load it with cheese. ‘Plenty of honey too per favore then be a brava cuocoina and feed it to me. Then I will explain.’ You offer him the cracker and he tuts at you shaking his head.
‘Uh uh,’ he sighs. ‘Do it properly.’ He pushes the plates to the side and pats the table in front of him. You stand uncertainly but he pats the table again until you sit before him and offer him the cracker a second time. He scoots his chair forward forcing you to spread your legs to accommodate him but now he is in the perfect position for you to place the food in his waiting mouth. He chews slowly, moaning low as the flavours combine and harmonise on his tongue. 
‘Mia cuocoina, I think the taleggio now, no?’ You take his suggestion, the rolls of prosciutto and apple are much easier to feed him. He watches you for a moment before continuing. ‘There were clues you see but I did not notice at first. Now though, now your Papa understands.’ You offer him the next bite but his warm hand closes around your wrist holding you in place. 
‘You kiss me differently, did you know this? After we have eaten, you like me tasting of food you made me I think.’ You feel like you can’t breathe as he begins listing all the things he has noticed. ‘And my clothes, you look at me differently too, when things get a little tighter, tighter than they used to be. You like seeing how I have changed with every meal you have fed me I think.’ You can’t deny it because what he says is true. A part of you had hoped he might not have noticed everything but with every word that hope gets smaller and smaller. 
‘And now here. Your heart is racing and yet all I have done is eat a little from your own hands.’ He pauses to take a bite, his teeth sinking into the soft cheese and crisp apple and just grazing the tip of your fingers. ‘You enjoy feeding me, more than you realise I think.’ 
‘Papa I …’ You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look angry or upset but you feel the urge to apologise even as words fail you. He swallows the last bite freeing your wrist.
‘Shhh it is ok mia cuocoina.’ His hands trail down to your ankles tracing miscellaneous shapes into your skin. ‘Cherries now per favore. The balsamic cherries with the mascarpone. His fingers creep up your calves ghosting the shape of you before hooking behind your knees. He pulls you forward until you are sitting at the edge of the table. You lean across him, choosing a butter cracker, the thicker texture better to support the soft cheese. 
‘I am craving something sweeter,’ he explains. You bring it to his lips, the cherry juice starting to drip down your fingers and he catches it with his tongue leaving a sticky trail behind it before closing his lips over the mouthful. Your breath catches in your throat and his eyelids droop seductively as he sucks the last traces of juice and cheese from your fingers. 
‘That didn’t quite hit the spot,’ he says, hands already sliding your skirt up your thighs until he can clearly see your underwear and the wet patch there is little point trying to hide. ‘Ah so I was right. You do enjoy hand feeding your Papa.’ He spreads your legs even further so he can lean close enough that you feel his steady breathing against you. ‘After all that fuss.’ He grazes his teeth over your clit, the material of your underwear protecting you but the threat still makes your thighs shake. When he does bite down it’s only on the hem of your underwear as he pulls them to the side leaving you bare to him for the first time.
He just looks at first holding you in suspense but in a split second his tongue is all over you yet somehow still not hitting any places you wanted him, needed him. Around and around he swirls his tongue over your folds, then the most gentle suction. Little sounds of enjoyment he seems unaware of that vibrate through you as he tastes you thoroughly. But his teasing as you fed him, his sucking and nipping at your fingers had already got you ready for so much more. Giving in you lace your fingers through his hair to guide him to exactly where you want his attention most but he resists all your attempts, making the frustration inside you build and build. You try another tactic grinding your hips against his face but he pulls away pressing your hips down onto the table and stopping any further movement and forcing a whine from deep in your chest.
‘Cuocoina, please. I am just trying to properly enjoy my meal.’ He pauses to lick a long stripe, tongue flat and broad to give you as much friction as possible. You can’t breathe, not for a moment, the sudden rush of pleasure the only thing your mind can comprehend but almost as soon as it starts it ends the only thing you can feel are the puffs of his warm breath.
‘But perhaps you would prefer to feed me this too?’ He positions himself that he is a hair's breadth away from you before his vice-like grip on your hips loosens. ‘Feed me’ he growls and you have to obey.
You grind your hips against him over and over, his tongue finding your entrance making your thighs shake as you fight to get him even deeper. Your foot loses purchase where it had settled on the arm of his chair and you scream as your clit catches the tip of his nose. One of his hands finds its way to your thigh helping to steady you but the other creeps up your body underneath your dress. He cups your breast over bra, his maddening fingers finding your already hard nipple through the light material pinching and twisting until you can't decide if you want to arch into his teasing hand or push back against his face. 
‘Papa! Terzooo,’ you moan his name in frustration, struggling as your pleasure builds to take what you need from him but he finally takes pity on you, hooking both your legs over his shoulders and lifting your hips clean off the table.
‘Fuck mia cuocoina,’ he growls against your core. He sucks your clit long and hard until you scream your toes curling against his back. ‘Sei la cosa migliore che abbia mai assaggiato, cazzo.’ You barely register his switch to Italian, too busy chanting his name in your pleasure fuelled delirium.
You are so close to the edge when his lips close over you sucking and sucking while his tongue swipes over your clit over and over again. You can feel it building, a charge shooting through your nerves from the soles of your feet to the palms of your hand and you continue babbling his name, repeating until it is almost meaningless. He pinches your nipple, hard, and you arch up from the table with a gasp just as he slides a finger inside you curling it perfectly to press against your g spot. 
Every bit of air is forced from your lungs as your orgasm overtakes you. Your ears begin to ring as the force of it pulses through your body and what feels like every muscle contracting and releasing as you gasp for air. Your hands are still gripping at his hair keeping him in place not that it is needed as he laps at you greedily, catching every last drop of your orgasm. 
‘Making sure you are well fed?’ You giggle deliriously, still feeling somewhat detached from reality. You release your death grip on his hair and he sets your hips back down on the table helping you ease the vice-like grip of your thighs around him. His face is wet with your slick but it only emphasises his flushed cheeks. He grins at you in satisfaction, his eyes sparkling as he takes in the state he has made of you.
He pulls you back upright by your hands after straightening your underwear and your dress but this time no one could mistake the treatment you had just received. Your balance has not yet returned and so helps you into his lap where you can lean against his warm body. As you get settled you can feel his hardness trapped beneath you but as you reach for him cupping him through his trousers, he catches your wrist gently and instead wraps your arms around his neck. He distracts you by stealing kisses and you discover you almost enjoy the taste of you on his lips as much as you enjoy the taste of the food you make him.   
He slows your frantic kisses down, only offering you slow pecks to help you actually catch your breath. He rubs your back soothingly over your dress and encourages you to rest against him but you still end up clinging to his shoulders to help keep you upright as the haze of your pleasure recedes leaving you exhausted. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand settling at the back of your neck.
‘Mmm, now I am satisfied,’ he whispers against your lips before distracting you again with his captivating kisses. 
102 notes · View notes
geotjwrs · 2 days
Note
Hey is it possible if you could do Jenna x male reader based off the song Dark Red by Steve Lacy? Thank you
only you babe
Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader
Warning/s ; none
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The faint sound of music hummed in the background, barely loud enough to be heard over the quiet tension in the room. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his phone clutched in his hand, his eyes staring blankly at the screen. It had been an hour since Jenna had texted, and her silence felt louder than anything else in his life right now.
"I think you know that I miss you…"
The lyrics echoed in his mind, but all he could focus on was the gnawing feeling in his gut—the one that told him something was wrong. He hadn’t heard from her since their last conversation, and now every passing second felt like a countdown to something he didn’t want to face.
He stood up, pacing the small apartment. He’d always had this fear, deep down, that Jenna might slip away. That one day, she would realize she didn’t need him. And lately, that fear had started to feel more real. The way she’d been distant, the way her messages came less frequently, it all pointed to something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
"Something bad is ’bout to happen to me…"
The words from the song buzzed in his head, like a warning he couldn’t ignore.
Y/N ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything bearing down on him. He knew he should call her, talk to her, ask her what was really going on. But every time he thought about it, that voice in the back of his mind whispered, What if she’s done? What if you push her away?
Just as he was about to give in to the anxiety, his phone buzzed. A message.
Jenna: “Can we talk?”
Y/N’s heart dropped. He stared at the screen, his hands shaking slightly. Those words—“Can we talk?”—were never a good sign. He could feel the blood draining from his face, and the room suddenly felt too small, too hot.
He sat down again, his mind racing with every possible worst-case scenario. She was leaving, wasn’t she? She had found someone else, or maybe she had finally gotten tired of him. Y/N’s thoughts spiraled out of control, and before he could stop himself, he typed out a response.
Y/N: “Is everything okay?”
The seconds stretched into minutes, and still no response. Y/N stood up again, pacing even faster now, his palms sweaty as he waited for her reply. He couldn’t breathe. His mind was clouded with every possible thing that could go wrong.
"I think I’m losin’ it…"
He looked around the apartment, his gaze falling on the little things that reminded him of her. The jacket she’d left hanging on the back of his chair. The coffee mug she always used. The picture of the two of them sitting on the shelf, smiling like nothing in the world could ever come between them.
But now, Y/N wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t been sure for a while, and it scared him more than anything.
Finally, his phone buzzed again. He snatched it up, his heart pounding in his chest as he read her message.
Jenna: “Yeah, but… I just feel like things have been off between us lately.”
Y/N closed his eyes, feeling a lump form in his throat. He had known this was coming. He had felt it in every silence, in every missed call, in every time she had looked at him like she was seeing someone else. But hearing her say it, seeing it in black and white on his screen, made it real.
Y/N: “I know… I’ve felt it too.”
He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to tell her how scared he was, how much he loved her, how the thought of losing her made him feel like he was drowning. But he didn’t. Instead, he just waited, feeling like the walls were closing in around him.
An hour later, Jenna showed up at his door. She stood there, her arms crossed, looking at him with those dark eyes that had always been able to read him like a book. There was something different in them tonight, though—something he couldn’t quite place.
Y/N stepped aside, letting her in. They hadn’t talked in person for a couple of days, and the air between them felt heavy, loaded with everything left unsaid.
“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice almost fragile as she walked past him.
“Hey,” Y/N replied, his throat tight. He closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a second before following her into the living room.
They sat on opposite ends of the couch, the space between them feeling much bigger than it had ever felt before. Y/N fidgeted with his hands, trying to come up with something to say, but his mind was blank.
Jenna looked at him, her expression soft but serious. “Y/N… I don’t know what’s been going on with us lately. But I can’t shake this feeling that something’s wrong.”
Y/N swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted to tell her everything—about how terrified he was of losing her, how he’d been feeling this weight of uncertainty pressing down on him for weeks. But instead, he just nodded, afraid that if he said the wrong thing, he’d make everything worse.
“Me too,” he finally managed to say. “I’ve felt it too.”
Jenna sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t want us to fall apart, Y/N. But lately, it feels like we’re not even on the same page anymore. Like we’re both just waiting for something bad to happen.”
Y/N’s heart sank. That was exactly how he had been feeling. Like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to say she was done with him. He hadn’t realized she was feeling the same way.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N said, his voice cracking slightly. He hated how vulnerable he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. This was Jenna, the girl he had loved for longer than he could remember, and the thought of her walking out of his life was unbearable.
Jenna’s eyes softened at his words. She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “I don’t want to lose you either. But we need to figure this out, Y/N. We can’t keep going on like this, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”
Y/N nodded, squeezing her hand tightly. “I know. I just… I’ve been so scared, Jenna. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize you didn’t want this anymore. That you didn’t want me.”
Jenna’s expression softened even more, and she moved closer to him, her hand still gripping his. “Y/N… that’s not it. I love you. I always have. But we can’t keep letting fear control us. We need to talk to each other, not shut down every time things get hard.”
Y/N closed his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. She wasn’t leaving. She didn’t want to leave. But the fear, the doubt, had been eating him alive for weeks, and now that it was out in the open, he realized just how much it had been affecting them.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head that I didn’t realize I was pushing you away.”
Jenna shook her head, her thumb gently brushing over the back of his hand. “We’ve both been doing it. But it doesn’t have to be like this. We can fix this, Y/N. We just need to be honest with each other.”
Y/N nodded, finally meeting her gaze. “I want that. I want us to be okay.”
Jenna smiled softly, leaning in to press her forehead against his. “We will be. But we have to stop letting fear get in the way.”
They sat there like that for a while, their foreheads touching, the weight of their unspoken fears slowly lifting. The tension between them wasn’t gone, but it felt lighter now, more manageable.
As the night wore on, Y/N realized that the dark cloud that had been hanging over them for so long was starting to fade. There were still things they needed to work through, still conversations they needed to have, but for the first time in weeks, Y/N felt like maybe they could make it through this.
And as he held Jenna close, he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t going to let fear take her away from him. Not again.
73 notes · View notes
vitaminkyeom · 2 days
Text
[22:21]
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PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader
GENRES || Angst, Best Friends To Lovers(?)
WARNINGS || angst, just angst
WORD COUNT || 0.5k
A/N || @ksoology ni remember talking about this? a big thanks to kiki @nonuify for beta reading for me!
TAGLIST || @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @athanasiasakura @sea-moon-star @hrts4hanniehae @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo @hoichi-02 @uri-boo @dinossaurz @nonononranghaee @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @iamawkwardandshy @hoeforcheol @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @hyneyedfiz @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @escoupseu @wonvsmile [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]
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“come on, how could jo say no!” your best friend complained, before slumping back into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest in a pout. you laughed at him, feeling the familiar warmth fill your stomach as you glanced at mingyu softly.
“well yeah no one i know alive ships laurie and amy. i mean, look at their chemistry!” you said, still unable to take your eyes off mingyu.
as if you hadn’t sinned enough by falling for your best friend, but you also to make it painfully obvious that kim mingyu aka your best friend (maybe repeating those words would stop the feelings) was the most attractive and beautiful man you had ever seen even in pyjamas and you just loved looking at him.
looking at him always put you at ease, like he was the island you had been swimming for all your life and finally got to rest, like he could anchor your soul to a stable rock and could cool down your fervent body. 
“seen a lot of people say ‘oh now that i’ve grown up i feel like amy and laurie were perfect!’. like what a load of crap.” your other best friend, gahyeon said before leaning back to look at you.
finally tearing your eyes away from a still pouting mingyu, you giggled at her. “man, we’re such a sucker for best friends to lovers right?”
“right, when’s my best friends to lover happening?” she wailed, causing the two of you to laugh even more.
“um, th second you confess to me?” mingyu joked, causing gahyeon to glare at him before melting into a smile when he gave back his soft signature smile.
and that’s when it hit you.
you watched your two best friends stare back at each other softly, carrying so much love in their eyes that you felt the popcorn you had eaten threaten to rush out of your mouth.
no way. it couldn’t be-
there was no way your best friends were in love with each other right? there was no way there were secretly yearning for each other-
but then again, so were you reading for mingyu despite him being your best friend. you too wished he would want you the way you wanted him.
but now he would never…
all of sudden, something seungkwan had said months ago flashed into your head. something about love being in the air and then him looking at you in disgust.
only it wasn’t you he was looking at, it wasn’t even you he was talking about. it had been gahyeon and mingyu all this time.
you swallowed the bile that had risen to your throat as you literally felt your heart shatter in your chest. your eyes prickled with tears as your head swam.
what were you going to do? oh, just what were you going to-
no.
you were not going to think like that.
forcing a smile back on to your face you turned back to your obliviously in love best friends and felt your heart shatter for a second time that day.
and then heal a little immediately.
because you realised mingyu never looked more beautiful as he did now, smiling sweetly as gahyeon and she too never looked more dazzling that now as she matched his beam. 
and at that moment, you knew exactly what you were going to do.
even if it killed you, you would make sure your best friends ended up with each other.
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A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!
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© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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vigilskeep · 2 days
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wait, Minerva "canonically" has a baby?? i want to know everything!! when how what - how does motherhood change her, pls elaborate, srry if you talked about this before, i just love them so much
she does!! i talk abt this less bc i think its self-indulgent jghsskks and that people are less interested in this, but it’s super fun to think about for me
the baby was a surprise, minerva was kind of being stupid about it lmao because she was being less careful than she might have been in the circle, especially because she’s a warden now so she’s less likely to get pregnant at all, without really thinking through what might happen. (i’m sure our local kinloch hold spirit healer companions both had their field days telling her off for this at some point.) but as soon as it does happen she wants the baby so badly. as a circle mage and then a warden she had never really seriously considered it a possibility for herself, but she loves children, and it’s been so long since she had a real family
it’s zevran’s and zevran is in antiva most of the time. i think she has a weird crisis about whether he’ll want anything to do with a baby, and she would despise for him to come back just out of obligation but also what if he doesn’t come back, and she ends up procrastinating telling him for, like, months. just a stupid amount of time. bc she was born to stress her man out and to give her wardens unnecessary grudges against him because they thought he had obviously chosen not to be here because obviously she would have told him. truly when will his suffering end. anyway he’s thrilled when somebody eventually does him the courtesy of letting him know
the baby’s a boy, she names him duncan, it sparks a whole other argument with alistair that we won’t get into here. he gets nicknamed junior a lot, partly bc he’s duncan jr, partly bc of the ongoing joke that he’s the resident Junior Warden. he was very much raised in warden blue since the cradle. because minerva is so busy and zevran is often away, he’s pretty much collectively raised in vigil’s keep by the awakening squad and whoever else gets added to that trusted inner circle. which works out bc wardens don’t often have kids of their own so they all just kind of... share this one lmao. (and possibly sometimes also oghren and felsi’s kid if they stick around?) it’s velanna who instigates this bc that’s what the dalish do and she’s also literally the only one here who knows what to do with a baby so thank the maker she’s here (minerva’s practised with kids but by nature they don’t have babies in the circle)
i’m so thrilled that spellblade is a crow-themed rogue-like mage subclass bc that’s exactly what i always pictured for duncan jr eventually. he’s a mage, his magic manifests very young, but minerva is very strict abt his studies and it has the unfortunate reverse effect of making getting his dad or nathaniel or sigrun to teach him combat much more fun. it works out really bc his magic having manifested is a tightly kept secret so it’s good for him not to have to rely on it
being a mother kind of changes/crystallises a lot of minerva’s priorities. it’s one thing to say, like, i would like to improve the situation for my fellow mages at some point, or, it sure would be nice to live past a warden’s usual limits. it’s another thing entirely to have a mage child and need to make a world that’s safe for him and live long enough to see it done. it ends up being a key issue of her conflict with the chantry between origins and inquisition because nobody’s quite certain what the rules are. obviously if she were still a circle mage any child of hers would be taken away. but she’s not a circle mage and arguably the chantry has no right to a child born outside of the circle, with no sign yet (as far as anyone outside vigil’s keep knows) of magic. (like i say it manifested younger than normal so this is believable even to those who think he will eventually show.) it definitely exacerbates tensions, shall we say, because obviously they can pry him out of her cold dead hands
he’s probably still only quite young in inquisition. six or seven? somewhere around there, i hate timelines. not sure where he is while minerva and her squad are on their quest, but given the very short list of people she trusts that much, i have to say that the most insane answer is likely: he’s in denerim as a temporary ward of the king. probably the first elven kid to be such
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merakiui · 15 hours
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Okay, but serial killer Azul getting revenge on everybody after he's presumed dead in a prank gone wrong.
Maybe you were a popular girl that he was always in love with, since you were the only one who wasn't outright cruel to him. One day you end up asking him to the prom and for him it's a dream come true, his true love is finally recognizing him. Unaware that it's a Carrie situation where you and your friends plan to humiliate him at the dance. He's so happy to spend the night with you, wanting everything to be perfect.
But when the prank happens, something goes wrong, leaving Azul worse for wear and you and your friends believe he's dead and get rid of the body. But he's still alive and not happy about what happened on the best night of his life.
Suddenly your friends begin to go missing one by one, until you're the only one left. It's then that Azul reveals that he's still alive. Except he believes that you weren't apart of the prank, that you were tricked into it somehow Delusional Tako. Now that all your friends are out of the way, you two can finally be happy together.
I hope you don't mind my rambling. Slasher Azul just gave me ideas.
AAAAAAAAA OTL oh, the wrath of a scorned octopus... this is so good!!! Being a popular bully and thinking it would be so funny to take that loser Azul to prom, only to then prank him alongside your friends. And when it goes terribly wrong the lot of you are in a panic. Suddenly, you have to delete all of the videos and pictures you took, and you all take an oath to never tell anyone about it, making sure to keep your stories and alibis in check in case you're questioned. All of you need to remain innocent when they start investigating his disappearance.
Dumping Azul's body somewhere in the woods and then going on with your lives, hoping no one will ever find him. >_< the heartbreak and betrayal and fear Azul must have felt that night... now he's just angry and so vengeful. He already hated your friends; he always thought they were a terrible lot. This was the final push he needed to do something about them once and for all.
It could never be you, though!! You must have been pressured into it by those bullies. After all, you asked him to prom! You were so excited, so sweet! He got you a pretty corsage with your favorite flowers. He made sure to look his absolute best, and you told him he looked handsome in his suit. So it definitely couldn't have been you!
He doesn't understand why you're crying, why you're fleeing. He should be the one crying! It's his life that was ruined, and your friends laughed at his suffering! Your friends tossed him aside so easily when they thought he was dead because they wanted to save their skins. You don't get to run away. Not this time. He's going to have that dance with you no matter what—the dance you promised him! A blood-stained, masked Azul is closing in on you, and you've run yourself into a dead end. :)
No one hears from you ever again.
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2amriize · 20 hours
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˚⟡˖ RIIZE angry confessions
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader
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ᯓ★ SHOTARO
Shotaro had been in love with you for a while, but he always felt that you only saw him as a good friend. Because of this, he decided not to confess his feelings. You two had known each other for years, and although he only realized his feelings a few months ago, he had always felt a bit strange when he saw you with other guys. Back then, he didn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't understand why, despite laughing with him more than anyone else, you still seemed to prefer other guys. Deep down, he felt like he wasn't enough.
Since he realized he was in love with you, you hadn’t mentioned liking any other guys, so Shotaro hadn't felt jealous in a while—until it happened.
One day, while you were having an afternoon snack at a café with Shotaro, something you did often, you spotted a guy from your class who you thought was really cute entering the café. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.
"Oh my god..." you murmured, trying to look away.
“What’s up?” Shotaro asked, turning to see what had caught your attention.
“It’s that guy from my class… He’s…”
“Oh, do you have a crush on him?” Shotaro glanced at the guy for a few seconds before turning back around and letting out a small sigh. “He’s not good for you.”
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“He looks like trouble. And I don’t think he’s right for you.”
Shotaro had never said anything like that to you before, and it made you a bit angry. What was he implying?
“Since when do you care about what's good for me, Shotaro?” you asked, giving him a serious look, clearly upset by his words. He looked back at you in silence for a few seconds.
“Since I…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nevermind.”
“Since what, Shotaro? Why do you suddenly care about the guys I like? It’s none of your business…”
“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” Shotaro cut you off, standing up and looking at you intensely. “That’s why, alright? Are you happy now?” He grabbed his things and stormed out of the café.
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
It was the way Eunseok looked at you that made everyone else realize how much he liked you. Well, everyone except for you. From the moment he met you, Eunseok knew he had feelings for you, but there wasn’t much he could do about it because at the time, you were dating someone else.
When you broke up with that guy, Eunseok was there for you whenever you needed him, supporting you. But that was all he could do—be by your side—because he felt like you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. Even though everyone always mentioned how Eunseok looked at you, you would always reply with, “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that, Eunseok looks at everyone like that…”
To be honest, sometimes you had thought about it—whether Eunseok really had feelings for you like everyone said—but it didn’t make sense to you, so you would quickly brush it off. On the other hand, Eunseok was finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings. It never seemed like the right moment to confess, especially since you had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with the same guy for a while, something Eunseok couldn’t stand.
“You got back with him again?” Eunseok asked with a sigh as you both sat on the grass at a friend’s birthday party. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air.
“Yeah… I feel like it’s what I should do.”
“Why, Y/N? Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions…”
“Excuse me?” You looked at him, surprised by the way he spoke. Eunseok had always supported you, and this was the first time he sounded frustrated. “It’s not dumb…”
“Isn’t it? To keep chasing after someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve?”
“What do you mean, Eunseok? He treats me well… we just have a few little fights sometimes. Besides, I go back to him because he’s the only one who cares about me at the end of the day, because…”
“Oh my god, Y/N, how can you be so blind?” Eunseok interrupted, looking at you with clear frustration.
“What…?”
As he stood up to go back inside, he murmured, “I don’t understand how you can’t see that the person who loves you the most is right in front of you…”
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
Sungchan had been looking out for you since day one. You had known each other since elementary school, and ever since then, you had always been together. He was always by your side, making sure you were okay and safe. You two spent so much time together that people who didn’t know you well often thought you were dating, something you always denied immediately to avoid awkwardness.
Sungchan never took it personally when you denied it—he tried to brush it off quickly—until it happened in a situation unlike any other before. You had never had a boyfriend, mostly because you hadn’t really been interested in any guys… until now. There was this one guy you’d been noticing lately, someone you found intriguing, but you hadn’t told anyone about it because it made you a little shy.
To your surprise, your friends invited this guy to a lunch gathering that you and Sungchan were also attending. When you saw him approaching with your friends, you couldn’t hide your nervousness, which Sungchan immediately noticed. And, as usual, the guy asked how long you and Sungchan had been together.
“No, him and me? We’re not a couple. Not at all. Never,” you said quickly, letting out a nervous laugh.
Sungchan stared at you in silence. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. Normally, you would simply say, “No, we’re just friends,” but this time, it felt like you had overreacted, and it hurt him. As you continued talking more with the guy, Sungchan started to feel left out (and jealous), so he let out a small laugh and walked away to another spot.
It took you a few minutes to realize Sungchan was no longer there, behind you, where he had always been. Confused, you quietly excused yourself from the group to go find him. After searching for a bit, you finally found him leaning against a tree, sipping his drink. You approached and touched his shoulder, and he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.
“Why did you leave, Sungchan? Did something happen?”
“It seemed like you didn’t need me there anymore,” he said, turning his gaze away from you.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you hated the idea of people seeing us as a couple… or rather, that he saw us as a couple.”
“Sungchan, you know that’s not it. We’re not dating, you know? I always say the same thing. I don’t get why you’re acting like this now…”
“I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn’t see?” Sungchan turned to face you, locking eyes with you for a few seconds.
“What… what do you mean…?” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“It’s… nevermind,” he said, walking away.
ᯓ★ WONBIN
Wonbin was a friend of one of your friends, and although you had met him several times before, you didn’t really start talking until a few months ago. To both of your surprise, you had a lot of common interests, which meant you had been talking more and more lately.
Whenever you hung out with your group of friends, it wasn’t unusual for you and Wonbin to spend the entire time together, which led to people starting to suspect there was something going on between you two. However, everyone knew that you had been interested in another guy for a while, a guy who constantly gave you mixed signals. But you were so blinded by the way he treated you that you couldn’t see he was just playing with your feelings.
This was something Wonbin knew, and it was starting to bother him more and more. At first, he didn’t care much, but the more he got to know you, the more frustrated he became with how this guy was treating you. And that’s when he realized that maybe he didn’t see you just as a friend anymore. The moment he came to that realization, he regretted it, knowing that you only had eyes for someone else, and he felt like you’d never notice him.
One evening, you were hanging out with your friends, and for some reason, you all decided to drink. Wonbin wasn’t very good at drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get tipsy, his cheeks flushed. When Wonbin got drunk, he became even more affectionate than usual. You had also been drinking, but it didn’t affect you as much.
At one point, Wonbin went outside to get some fresh air because he was feeling a bit dizzy, and you followed him to check if he was okay. While outside, you started talking about the guy you liked, and unlike usual, Wonbin didn’t respond or pay much attention. When you noticed he was staring off into the distance, you looked at him.
“Wonbin? Are you okay?”
He stared at you for a few seconds, and just when it seemed like he was about to say something, he sighed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Do you like that guy so much that you can’t see what he’s doing to you?”
“Huh? What are you talking about, Wonbin? He treats me really well…”
“Yeah, that’s what you think…”
“You don’t have the right to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him,” you said, getting annoyed at how Wonbin was speaking badly about him.
After a few seconds of silence, Wonbin looked at you and shook his head.
“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
“What are you talking about, Wonbin?”
“I just… wish you wouldn’t keep seeing that guy.”
“You don’t have the right to say that.”
“I wish I did.”
ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN
Everyone, even you, knew how much Seunghan liked you. But you always ignored his feelings because you preferred not to face that reality. You had been friends for so many years that you didn't want to risk your friendship over it. Still, you couldn't deny that you treated him differently from everyone else, being much more affectionate and always relying on him when you needed someone. Seunghan was always there for you, no matter what. It didn’t matter if you were on the other side of the city and only needed a pen—he would come and bring it to you. That’s how much you meant to him, and everyone could see it.
That’s why, when he heard from others that you were starting to get to know another guy, he felt his heart break a little. He knew you two weren’t a couple and that he had never confessed his feelings, but it still hurt to find out from someone else, especially when you knew how he felt. The thought of you with another guy was something he couldn't stand.
He tried to distance himself from you for a while after hearing the news, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t say no when you asked him to pick you up from class to take you home, even though he knew you probably had an important date. Despite knowing this date might be with the other guy, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he picked you up just as you had asked.
The whole ride, he was quiet and serious, something you found odd since Seunghan had never behaved like this around you. He was always so sweet and cheerful when he was with you.
"Seunghan, is something wrong? You seem really serious," you asked when he parked in front of your house after the silent ride.
"No, don't worry," he murmured without looking at you.
"I know something’s bothering you…"
"Don't you have to go get ready for your date?"
The way Seunghan looked at you and the tone he used when mentioning your date made you realize he knew about it, and he seemed quite upset.
"Seunghan, you know I care about you a lot, but it’s just…"
"You know. You know I love you and took full advantage of the fact that I'd do anything for you. And I know that. I just kept at it, hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."
You froze after hearing Seunghan’s words. You couldn’t help but feel bad for making him feel this way, though it was never your intention. Before you could even respond, Seunghan spoke again.
"Just… get out. You’re going to be late."
ᯓ★ SOHEE
There had always been a sort of romantic tension between you and Sohee. Both of you were playful and touchy with each other, but that was all—just tension. Even though you both probably had feelings for each other, neither of you had confessed.
In fact, you were always waiting for him to confess, but that moment never seemed to come. The longer you waited, the more tired you grew of holding onto hope. Yet, despite that, you couldn’t seem to let go of the idea of him.
Knowing all of this, you still couldn’t ignore the guy who approached you at the party. You had come to the university party with Sohee, but he had gone off to talk to his friends. The guy, someone you hadn’t seen before, wasted no time approaching you once he saw Sohee wasn’t by your side.
You two talked for a while, and the guy even brushed your arm occasionally while locking eyes with you. You couldn’t deny feeling a bit nervous around him. He was charming and very attractive. After chatting for a bit, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, promising you’d be right back.
You didn’t expect to find Sohee waiting for you outside the bathroom. You quickly noticed he’d had a few drinks.
"Sohee, have you been drinking?"
"Who was that guy?"
"Are you talking about the one I was talking to earlier? He’s a new guy at our faculty. He’s pretty nice. I was about to go back and talk to him."
"Don’t go back to him," Sohee muttered, lowering his head.
"Sohee, you can’t decide what I do."
"I know I can’t, but I don’t want you to talk to him again."
"Sohee, you’re just drunk and saying things that don’t make sense," you said, walking past him, heading back to the party.
"Y/n, I love you," you heard Sohee murmur as he grabbed your wrist, only to let it go after a few seconds. You looked at him, stunned, for a moment. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?" he said before walking away into the party, leaving you standing in the hallway, unsure of what to say or do.
ᯓ★ ANTON
You and Anton had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You went to the same school, and your mothers were close friends, so you spent many summers together. Even after graduating, you both ended up attending the same university, so you still saw each other daily.
It felt like you two were inseparable—until you started getting to know another guy. It took you a while to tell Anton about him since you’d never really talked about that kind of stuff before. When you finally did, you thought he took it well at first, but you noticed him starting to act strange, becoming more distant.
Although he said nothing was wrong, he always had excuses to avoid walking home with you, claiming he had plans to study with classmates in a café, something you found odd since he didn’t like studying in public. Even so, you decided to trust him and give him the space he seemed to need.
One day, as you were heading home, you spotted Anton walking in the distance. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, so you decided to catch up with him. He smiled briefly when he saw you, but then quickly looked away and started walking faster.
"Anton, I feel like you’ve been acting weird these past weeks. Is something wrong?"
"Huh? No, you know… exams, new people… It’s just that. Nothing’s wrong."
"Are you sure? I feel like you’re pulling away from me, and if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know."
"Nothing’s wrong, y/n. You’ve just got other friends now, and I get it," he mumbled coldly. You stood there, thinking for a moment. In high school, you’d made new friends, and yet you and Anton still acted like you always had. Why was this time different?
"I feel like you’ve been off ever since I told you about Ricky…"
"Y/n. I just… don’t want to talk about it."
"Well, I do, Anton. I feel like you’re being selfish, only thinking about how you feel and not about how you’re making me feel," you said, frustrated, stopping in the middle of the street. Anton turned to look at you, serious.
"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened, and I can’t do shit about it."
"You… what?"
Anton stared at you for a few seconds, pressing his lips together before turning his back on you.
"Forget it, y/n. I’m just tired from all the studying."
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori
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fandomxo00 · 21 hours
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Ok but imagine:
Your first autistic burnout with Logan
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It was days like today that got you. It didn't happen all at once you noticed that things begin to get harder. Self care was a necessity but sometimes you just didn't have energy for it. For you it felt like time was speeding up, like you thought it was Friday but it's really Monday. Like the world spinning but your stuck where you are. That your trying to process every day and everything that happens but it's already tomorrow.
But you don't stop pushing yourself, they tell you have to push through. That you have the break time you need so why would you need anymore? That you barely taught any classes anyway, barely a teacher there. You felt selfish most of the time because if you listened to yourself you'd try to put yourself first. But no one else understands you? Unless your autistic it's hard to understand what it feels like to be burnout.
You started having bad mood swings, unable to regulate your emotions, as you usually would be to. It was hard to get around, to do just about anything because your body was tired. Your mind was fatigued, and the wrong words come out of your mouth a lot easier. Because you weren't acting normal you usually started beating yourself up because you shouldn't feel this tired. You shouldn't feel like even breathing can be hard for you. Which in these moments because a problem because of your unrelentless anxiety about having to put your mind to anything, or having to be social situations that you didn't want to be in.
But you had to show up for your job or you were going to lose it. Charles could only be so patient with you right? Even with accommodations in place, there was a certain point where you felt like in other people's brains there was no coming back, you just didn't want to get better. That you decided one day that you were just coming to become depressed. For so long doctors who didn't know you assumed you were bipolar, though you didn't have manic epsiodes. You just really intense happiness that could last for a little while but it was usually because you were in a mood swing.
Logan was instantly drawn to the moment he met you. You had the same type of darkness he recognized in himself. When you looked at him you had the same pain in his eyes that were reflected in his. The two of you had gone through very different pain and trauma, but when he learned about yours it didn't think it was any easier. Not with the mental and emotional manipulation you grew up with. The hours you spent alone and isolated because the world was simply too much for you. That you rather stay in your little bubble and never leave.
You'd been doing good for so long, you could have a bad day or a bad week, but you always got back up. Logan had never seen you practically paralyzed. You could barely keep your eyes open, you could barely move without groaning or crying, it was like your limbs were almost lifeless.
The room was pitch black, something he knew you didn't like. You always had a night light on, and now you couldn't even open your eyes long enough. You'd even covered your ears when he tried talking to you, a faint 'shh' coming out of your mouth. He felt the pain shoot through him as he saw the pain all over your face, you almost looked lifeless. Logan spoke quietly as he checked on you, before reaching for his hand and grasping on tightly while you started to cry. "What's wrong?" He whispered.
"I-is just too much." You bawled. "H-hold me tight please." Logan's arms wrapped around you without hesitation, listening to you as you laid your head against his chest, his arms tight around your body.
Eventually you needed space, feeling almost suffocated, but you didn't want him to leave. You didn't know how to communicate this, your own anxiety of just having to talk practically making you mute. You just climbed away from him, before whispering, "Stay." Laying your head on the pillow, and he laid next to you. You moved forward eventually, wanting the comfort of his hand in yours. Logan traced your features with his hazel green eyes, trying to make sure he was prepared for whatever you were feeling. Trying to understand something that he knew you couldn't explain to him right now.
All he knew was that you needed him and he wasn't going anywhere.
note: cried while writing this, i'm sorry i'm not filling in requests rn feeling a lot executive dysfunction and just trying to remain positive.
tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland
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xclowniex · 1 day
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So if that terror attack on Lebanon is justified for the death of those 12 Druze children (which I'm sure you wouldn't be as heartbroken about them if they were killed by the IDF instead), what should the IDF punishment be for killing thousands of Palestinians children and how many Israeli civilians are you willing to let die in order to get to those Israeli terrorists? Assuming you think Israelis should even be punished for killing children (or that the word terrorists can be used to describe someone that isn't Muslim)
I wasn't going to answer this as I know it's obviously in bad faith but I'll bite
Stop putting your US centric views onto me. Here in New Zealand, we considering March 15th a terror attack. If you don't know what happened that day, a white supremist opened fire on two mosques in Christchurch. The white supremist who did it? He is a terrorist. I consider him a terrorist. All the media here considers him a terrorist. He is a terrorist.
New Zealand has designated a few white supremist groups and individuals as terrorists
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Do you know who else is on this list?
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Hezbollah.
Do you know who is not on this list? The IDF. You can check for yourself too
To quote the Terrorism Suppression Act 2002, which is ya know, laws surrounding terrorism, the IDF currently is exempt from it.
"However, an act does not fall within subsection (2) if it occurs in a situation of armed conflict and is, at the time and in the place that it occurs, in accordance with rules of international law applicable to the conflict."
(Sub section two refers to civilians being harmed or killed)
Fun fact about war crimes! Individuals get arrested for them and designated as war criminals, not everyone who is apart of the military. Bibi can be arrested for war crimes. Any individual IDF member who did the war crime can be arrested for war crimes. Whatever the Israeli version of John Smith is, who has never committed a war crime during his service, cannot be arrested for a war crime, and therefore cannot be labeled a terrorist.
But wouldn't Hamas and hezbollah be excempt from being a terrorist group as they're in an armed conflict? They've both committed terrorist acts outside of armed conflicts, ergo, terrorist organizations.
Also, you can read the act I was quoting if you want
https://www.legislation.govt.nz/act/public/2002/0034/latest/DLM152702.html?search=ts_act%40bill%40regulation%40deemedreg_terrorism+suppression+act_resel_25_a&p=1
So, now that we have established that the IDF has not committed a terror attack as they're currently in armed conflict with Hezbollah, the rest of what you said falls apart, but to address it.
1. I would be equally as sad if the IDF killed 12 druze children
2. I think that any IDF members who have committed war crimes + bibi should be arrested for war crimes as I've stated so many times
3. If I lived in an ideal world, all hezbollah members would simply be arrested and there would be no loss of life. But we don't live in an ideal world. Hezbollah won't allow themselves to be arrested. Hezbollah also remains an active threat. If IDF members who have committed war crimes + Bibi refuse to be arrested and are still an active threat to people (key word active threat), yeah killing them would be best. Considering the exploding pagers had a mortality rate of 0.3%, and not all of that were civilians, I would expect a mortality rate of less than 0.3% of civilians near the individual war criminal to be killed.
Oh whats that? Not the answer you expected yeah I thought so. How about instead of frothing at the mouth trying to find a gotcha you can use to dehumanize me, you actually A) read up on laws* and definitions and B) read through my blog first because I've said many times that individuals who have committed war crimes should be arrested
*I know that NZ law may differ from laws elsewhere but they're pretty similar in the US, Canada and the UK
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fools
WARNINGS: insecurity of stretch marks, weight, appearance and smut
••••••••••
All those long lonely nights, while you were tucked away in bed and your man was in the army. Training and disciplining himself along with other boys that were turning into men. You had time to really take a good look at yourself.
To look at the stretch marks that were mapped across your thighs, the pouch you’ve put on above your belt, anything on your body, you happened to find something wrong about it.
But you never had these thoughts around Elvis, of course that was before he was drafted. You felt perfect and all precious, because he showed you all that you deserved.
You and your doubtful mind just had to ruin an intimate moment, with your husband that’s as finally back and awaiting.
As he peeled off his pants, panting softly above you he noticed your sadden demeanor. He immediately pulled back, and there was a dead silence.
He was already aching hard, with this delicious bare sight in front of him, but that subsided as he looked into your worried eyes and insecure soul.
“B-baby? What’s wrong?…” he spoke out so gently, those baby blues softened from the dark lust clouding his want and mind. And you felt so guilty that he was so concerned and that you’ve ruined everything just by not thinking your worth.
You shrug and shake your head, reaching for a blanket besides you against the silky white sheets you both lay, “n-nothing, it’s stupid.” you spat at yourself, furrowing your eyebrows and looking away.
He frowns, shaking his sharp jaw and taking a gentle caress to your chin. He ushers you to look into his eyes, and he instantly senses your rush of insecurity and pain. He can feel himself soften lightly, and he clicks his tongue. “Nah baby, if something’s making my doll worried, and you’re calling it stupid, then you’re acting a fool. But if I were to follow that lil frown of yours, we’d both be damned fools.”
He smiles gently and nudges you to speak your mind, and you can’t help but flutter with warmth at his care. He never changed in or out of that army, no uniform or hairstyle could ever fix him out of this sweet, gentle side.
“I-it’s just…Elvis take a real good look at me.” You huff softly and pout. And that’s exactly what he does.
Scanning your bare breasts that heaved along with your frustrated breaths, that cute tummy that carried all the delicious food he made sure nurtured you just right, the thighs that would hopefully soon be wrapped deliciously around his head, that ran along to your pretty sooties.
He draws in a sharp breath, feeling his manhood twitch alive in his burdened slacks, reaching out with a sweaty, needy palm to knead your smooth side. “I see alotta woman.” He breathers out heavily, needing to shake his head a little to process right.
Doubtful and still not amused, “e, I mean real good, look at me closely.” He just shrugs and you swear you see him slurp back drool that’s running a glossy line down his chin.
“like I said baby, I see a whole lotta woman, that’s all mine.” He growls playfully, his hands kneading a little firmer now. But you sigh and shake your head, “Elvis…look, don’t you see these ugly lines across my legs, o-or the weight I’ve put on. You don’t see any of that?” You quip, quite upset that he ain’t on the same page.
He only shakes his head clueless, but draws a fist to his puffy lips to bite down on a knuckle, suppressing a moan.
As you open your lips again to protest against anything, he’s had enough of this. So he just gruffly places you on the edge of the bed, still bare and naked, while he seats himself across in the velvety red, smooth, wooden chair. Truly made for a king.
Unzipping his slacks, he huffs as he yanks them off and your eyes widen to just see how being naked has done to him.
He’s almost purple at the tip, his foreskin peeling back to stream precum down his tight balls, his manhood twitches and pulses with his panting.
“I-imma show ya just how much I dig ya, ya head baby?” He whispers out in a strained voice, looking up to connect with his baby blue pupils. You only nod in return, and glance back.
It’s almost immediate, as he clutches both hands to the arm handles and thrusts into the air. His cock wagging pathetically that drips more sticky arousal. He throws his head back and whimpers so prettily, “b-baby, you see them beauties that map on yer legs? F-fuck, I could jus’ ah!” He lets out a stream of profanities at just the thought of rubbing his swollen, purple tip against your stretch marks.
“Look atcha, j-jus sittin’ there, and I-I’m over here like a bitch in heat.” He heaves out heavily, stomping his feet to plant onto the ground and ruttting into the air.
The sight is truly breath-taking. No hands, just hips and sudden movements. All because you’re yourself and bare.
His eyes dart to your stomach, that has gentle rolls and your jiggling breasts. Immediately, his eyes roll to the back of his head, hips stuttering into the stuffy, room air. “A-ah shit, y-you see, hah, that precious belly you’ve got on? Oh, y-you just wait til ah’m oh a-ah” he can’t even form a proper sentence. His eyes shut close as his length flickers and produces wet juices down the seam of his balls and the girth of his swollen cock.
At the mere thought of seeing you bigger. Not because of delicious treats, but full of him. Of his sperm, round and swollen, carrying his baby. Permanently marking you his by the twitch of his cock. All’s gotta take is a smudge of his acorn tip into your cervix, his manhood jus’ gotta pulse real good into that beaver, and his seed’ll catch.
You would think that he’d be done for by just seeing your body, but it’s when he sees your blown out pupils, is when he boils over the top.
His hips shake and he grips at the wooden arm handles, growling and chomping at the air as his cock pulses wickedly into the air, spurting out hot, thick creams that lands on his own juicy thighs.
Face scrunched in absolute pleasure, lips puffy, while his cock swells to waste more of his semen that drips down onto the carpeted floor. All insecurities are out the windows
your cheeks burn crimson at what had just happened when he finally sits back and his bare chest catches his breathing, he had just gone off of the image of you. No hands, no touch, hell, you didn’t have to speak.
“Ya see baby? I guess we ain’t fools, huh,”
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queenie-ofthe-void · 3 days
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A Desperate Fool - Part 9
Part 8
Last time: Eddie finds out about Becky
~~~
"How can he lo–" he coughs to clear the word from his throat. "The person you're marrying's supposed to know everything about you. How can she just, not? And apparently everyone’s just ok with that?"
Nancy's moved to lay down on the floor next to him. Her face even with his, and when he tilts his head to look at her, she reaches out to hold his hand. The warm, yellow lighting softens her features, reminding Eddie of all they have in common despite their own fathers. Curly hair, big brown eyes, an angled jaw and high cheekbones. A flair for the dramatic. Strong, driving passions for their careers. They're two people who get what they want, if they want it bad enough, and they'll do whatever it takes to get it. Even if it means breaking Steve Harrington's heart along the way.
Nancy smiles at him, gentle and small, like she can read exactly where his thoughts have taken him. "She's really good for him, Eddie. Becky loves sports, wants kids. She's patient when he's having an off day. Doesn't poke fun at him when he loses track of the conversation, and explains what he's misunderstood. She takes care of him. She loves taking care of him and isn't that something he deserves?" Eddie squeezes her hand when the first tear slips from the corner of her eye, tracing her cheekbone until it drips onto the dark green rug beneath them. "After his parents, you and I, and every other shitty hand he's been dealt– doesn't he deserve someone like that? Like her?"
“Then why send Max?” he asks in a last ditch effort. “Why send her and Lucas saying Steve wants to talk to me, when he’s finally happy with someone else.”
She frowns, guilt radiating off her in waves. “He does want to talk to you. I just wanted you to talk to me first, so you could really understand what we all went through– what you put him through. I love you, but I need you to think hard about what would happen if you walked back into Steve’s life right now.” Nancy wipes a tear from his eye as she cups his cheek. “Eddie, he’s happy. If you walk through his front door, he could lose everything you know he deserves.”
As Eddie releases a deep, cleansing breath, he nods again. Not hollow, but clogged with resignation. She squeezes his hand before standing. She reaches out her hand again and he takes it, only to be pulled up and into her small arms in a crushing embrace. Nancy rubs soft circles into his back, until they're both breathing just a bit easier.
The rest of the night's a quiet affair. Nancy shows him to the guest room where he unpacks the small duffle of clothes he brought with. For his rockstar sleep schedule, the night's still young. But the wear of the day drags him under the covers. He's thankful she's letting him stay when he didn't even expect her to answer the door. Except that's Nancy Wheeler, isn't it? A woman willing to push through any obstacle for the people she loves. Never letting them fall when they trip, and always there to offer a steady hand. Eddie drifts off to sleep wrapped in the comfort of knowing, without a doubt, that that includes him.
~~~
Part 10 coming soon!
Tag List!!!
@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings @thewickedkat
@stripey82
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triangle-dog · 22 hours
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TW pet death
(Not one of mine, don't worry. You won't miss anything if you skip this post.)
I will always and forever be a collar and tags person (or, look, if you are really concerned about strangulation then a harness & tags person or a breakaway collar or whatever). Microchips are great, all my beasts are microchiped, but if one of them gets out I want to be able to find them and bring them home no matter what has happened to them.
Two years ago, almost exactly I think, friends and I were three miles into a beautiful autumn hike with the dogs. The leaves were turning, the wildlife was active, and there was a crisp breeze. We rounded a corner and immediately saw a body floating out on the lake, a dog, its long black fur drifting back and forth in the small waves. After some deliberation on what to do, and if it was safe, I waded out to the dog while the others in the party held our dogs way back from the lake in case the water was bad. He wasn't that far out really, but it felt like it took forever to get there because I was fervently hoping he'd have tags. I could actually feel the relief wash over me when I got there and saw patches of blue collar peeking out between the drifting fur.
I towed him into the shallows by the collar. I'm the most familiar with bodies, which is why I was the one who went out to him, and I know that they age differently in the water but by my judgment he'd died farily recently - less than a day ago. When he's in close enough to shore that I don't think he'll drift away any time soon, I unclip his collar and return to the group. We sit down and strategize for a few minutes. How do you make a call like that without raising their hopes? (Answer: you can't - just the phone ringing will be enough).
"I'm very sorry," I say, "but I found a dog in the lake and I thought you would want to know." She tells me she was half expecting a call like this, that the gate didn't latch correctly and both dogs got out but only one came home. She tells me that they were so worried he wouldn't be able to find his way home in the storm last night. She tells me he was very old, that his mind had been going for awhile now. She tells me that most of his life, until the last few years as his body became less able to manage the walk, they would come down to a beach near here and that he loved to swim. She tells me she hopes he at least got to relive those memories for a bit before he went.
I give her the coordinates, it's not too far from a road if you bushwhack - certainly less than the 3mi we did, and tell her we'll bring him to shore. I pick him up out of the shallows, he feels frail, yet he's so so heavy from the weight of the water in his fur. He's much smaller than Nova, yet lifting Nova has never felt like that. I lay him gently on the rocky beach in what I hope is a natural looking, less-traumatizing-to-the-kids position. I clip his collar back on, with the fur no longer drifting around in the water obscuring it, you can now see the little tag saying "Poochie" on the front. We head back the way we came. That was walk enough for all of us, it would feel wrong to seek a different ending, and it was an out and back trail anyway.
Ever since then, every dead cat or dog I see reminds me of those lakeside discussions. We are all overly dedicated animal people, we're fully aware of microchips and all of our own pets are microchiped, but carrying a waterlogged body 3mi to the car to drive it to the vet's office was just not feasible - I don't think it would occur to most people that that was even an option. Even if they did think of it, most people would be opposed to putting a dead animal in their vehicle. I'm just gonna make it easy on people and put my phone number on my animals.
(Sorry, that post was so much longer than it needed to be, but my brain must have recorded that experience in a different kind of memory than usual because it is so so clear and comes all as a set like that so that's what you got too)
TLDR: OP found a dead dog once and has big feelings about it. Put collars/etc. on your pets
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pattyaifread · 2 days
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Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World - Hatenai Omoi Vol. 2, Richter Abend Excerpts
I translated the first and last parts of Richter's chapter in the second volume of Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World - Feelings Without End by Sara Yajima.
The chapter begins post-game with Richter alone in Ginnungagap, and he starts to reminisce about the time he spent with Aster. The novel covers up from just before the time he got captured and locked away in the Research Academy, up to Aster's death.
Occasionally, he felt a throbbing sensation on his forehead. Richter Abend lightly touched the spot with his fingers, reaffirming that Ratatosk’s core was implanted there. It had been some time since the Summon Spirit Ratatosk had left Ginnungagap, and although the strange sensation hadn’t disappeared, he was now used to it.
Just how much time had passed since then?
Ratatosk split his body from his core and returned to that world as Emil Castagnier, and should be spending his time as a short-lived human alongside Marta Lualdi and their friends. Perhaps this throbbing sensation is responding to Emil’s feelings, Richter thought.
He knew it was a little too convenient to think that Ratatosk living as Emil was making up for what should have been Aster’s life. However, that thought was the only solace for Richter who was sealed inside Ginnungagap as a human sacrifice, and had to live with the core.
Nothing happened in this place. The flow of time couldn’t be felt. Even the demons from Niflheim were silent.
“A thousand years.” Ratatosks’s voice rose to his mind. “It will take a thousand years to separate mana from all living beings on this planet. After mana is no longer needed to support this world, the remaining mana will be used to create a new seal. I’ll release you then.”
I suppose it’s an offer I should be grateful for considering I sold my soul to demons and tried to destroy the world.
Richter’s lips curved into a smile at the edges, and as he gazed at the dark space spreading out before him, he recalled his best friend.
They had read books together, devoted their all to research, fiercely debated with one another, and had shared bread on their travels together. Aster was carefree and never discriminated against him, and in the end all that was left behind was a cold corpse.
Aster… Even once I’m released, you won’t exist in the world that I return to…
Richter wondered what that foolishly good-natured Aster would think of him spending a thousand years in the place of his death, and quietly closed his eyes.
—---------
After they enter Ginnungagap
“Richter!” Aster called for Richter. “Look. Over there.”
Richter followed Aster’s line of sight, and there he saw a being looking down upon them. Aster took one step towards it.
“Aster…”
Aster signaled it would be okay and made a fist, and swallowed hard while nodding. “You’re Ratatosk, the Summon Spirit of the Great Kharlan Tree, right?” His shaking voice seemed to reach the being.
“Some have called me by that name.” Ratatosk’s voice was deep and rattled the air. Those on the other side of the door reacted to that voice and became boisterous.
Richter took notice that Ratatosk’s gaze was fixed above them, and moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Aster. “Ratatosk,” Richter called out as he gazed upon the Summon Spirit, “right now, the flow of mana in the world is out of balance and is in a state of chaos. We believe that to restore that balance, your power is needed.”
“Even if I restore the balance, the world will once again fall into chaos without a tree,” Ratatosk coldly stated.
“We heard that a new tree was born!” Aster started speaking again, this time with a firm voice. “But from what we researched, the spirit of the new tree doesn’t have the power to control the flow of mana like you do.”
“Hmph. And?”
“I beg of you! Please use the Centurions to restore the balance of mana in the world! If you do, the world will be saved!”
There was a momentary silence. Then suddenly, the Summon Spirit’s voice boomed. “Awaken, Centurions! Form pacts with monsters, and restore the balance of mana. And then eradicate humanity who destroyed my tree!”
W-what?!
Richter doubted his ears.
“W-what on earth are you saying!” Aster went white as a sheet.
“I thought you wanted to save the world?”
“Why do you have to kill people to do that?!” Aster picked a fight with the Summon Spirit.
Ratatosk became furious at his words. The room trembled with his next words. “Who was it who destroyed the Great Kharlan Tree?! Humans and half-elves, that’s who! So I’ll destroy them in return!”
“B-but a new World Tree was born!” Aster replied frantically.
“And in time you’ll destroy it once more. Your kind are nothing but parasites to this world!”
“That’s not true!” Aster looked hurt, and continued to frantically appeal. “Humans and half-elves are an important part of this world, and—”
This is bad, Richter thought. At that very moment—
“Silence!” Ratatosk’s callous voice roared.
?!?!
Richter saw white fly by at the edge of his vision. Aster was hit by the full brunt of Ratatosk’s power, and went flying. He crashed down against the floor violently, and continued to tumble. By the time his body had stopped rolling, all Richter saw a white lump that was twisted unnaturally, and Aster was no longer moving.
“Aster?!” Richter yelled out, wide-eyed.
“See? The death of one parasite had no effect on the world.”
“Aster?!” Richter approached Aster unsteadily. Why was he yelling for him even though he knew it was too late? Even though nothing would change in the world? His feet stopped.
“Aster… Aster.” Richter turned to look behind him. “You bastard! How could you… How dare you do that to Aster!”
Richter grabbed his sword and axe as the blood rushed to his head. He rushed towards the Summon Spirit.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!”
Ratatosk recoiled at the sword raised high. The sharp edge of the blade cut into the Summon Spirit. “Guh!”
If I kill Ratatosk, the world will fall into ruin. Richter realized this fact, but it mattered not.
“How dare you do that to Aster! Mortal Summer!”
Flames burst out from the swinging axe and raced across the floor in the space between him and Ratatosk. However, it had no effect on the spirit.
“Dammit!”
He threw his axe and it cut through Ratatosk’s leg and lodged into the floor. Taking that chance, Richter grabbed his sword with both arms and raised it above his head. “Towering Inferno!”
It didn’t matter who his opponent was. He went on the attack against Ratatosk who was blinded by the dizzying light. 
But then at the perfect timing— “Ain Soph Aur!”—Ratatosk sent the axe flying and retaliated.
“Aghhhhh!!!!” Richter felt like his body would break into pieces upon impact, but scraped together all his remaining power for one last attack.
I don’t care if I die. Aster was already killed like some bug!
“Tch!” Ratatosk clicked his tongue at the tenacious half-elf.
On the verge of insanity and death, Richter raised his sword once more above his head as it gleamed. Through the violent bursts of light, he had just barely glimpsed Ratatosk’s figure bending back. When the light faded, the spirit was nowhere to be seen.
“Where… did you go…” Richter was breathing heavily and collapsed to his knees. He then noticed a shining red gem rolling on the floor.
What… is that? Don’t tell… me… that’s… Rata…tosk? The sound of blood gushing out felt like it would tear apart his eardrums. He crouched down for a moment.
Aster!
He started to crawl towards Aster with a desperate look on his face.
…Aster!!
A blue figure passed by several times overhead. Richter didn’t notice that Centurion Aqua was there at all. She hid herself in the darkness. “As..ter…”
He finally grasped the edge of that white coat. With a sliver of hope, Richter looked up towards that twisted body. However, with a pale face and closed eyes, Aster was unmoving.
“I always figured I’d hand it all over to you once you eventually left the Research Academy and went out into the world.” “I want to entrust everything to you, Richter. When I die, please make sure my research lives on.” “Rather than interactive, it’s more like circulation!”
Whose voices were those? It echoed repeatedly in his head, causing pain. “Rata…tosk… I’ll never… forgive you!”
Richter picked up the gem—Ratatosk’s core—and though he lacked knowledge surrounding it, he knew he should destroy it.
While holding Aster up, he thought to go grab the core, but his consciousness was already dim due to the wound. Even so, he struggled with all his might to support his body, but just sitting up was his limit.
Suddenly, a black shadow jumped out of midair.
What?!
The black shadow swiftly grabbed the core in its mouth and ran off into the darkness.
“D-damn… it… Augh!”
When he looked down, he noticed that Aster’s white clothes had been dyed crimson in his arms.
Everything was over. Richter had finally understood that. He would never come back to life. Knowing that, he couldn’t contain his cries. Using the remainder of his life, he wanted to become empty.
“Aster! Aster! ASTER!!”
Richter slanted over and collapsed onto the floor as his screams continued reverberating.
Just how long had he immersed himself in memories of Aster?
Whether it was only for an instant, or for a year or even ten, it made no difference to his current predicament. When he opened his eyes, the unchanging view of Ginnungagap spread out before him. If he had been left like that, he no doubt would have lost his life, he recalled.
By the time he came to, Centurion Aqua was staring at him worriedly. “It’s all my fault for taking you there in the first place…”
She had taken Richter, who was on the verge of death, to a safe place and nursed him back to health. She had greatly lamented the death of Richter’s friend, and mourned. So she had listened to his story, and opened her heart to him. Richter made contact with the demons, and exchanged a contract with them: “If you open the door to the demonic realm, Aster will be revived.” Aqua of the eight Centurions betrayed the Summon Spirit Ratatosk, and chose to work together with Richter.
Richter gave Solum’s core that he had received from the demons to Brute, the leader of the Sylvaranti Liberation Front, and in return received a high ranking in the Vanguard’s troops.
The Summon Spirit Ratatosk was the face of Richter’s revenge–a face stolen from Aster. And now, he had given his body to that very same Summon Spirit and was spending a thousand years in the place where Aster had been killed. Richter had begun to gradually think he was finally making peace with everything.
I wonder what Emil is up to now.
He wondered if Emil was forging his own path forward together with Marta.
Richter had a secret hope that he would never dare voice.
He hoped that once Emil saw his life through as a human, that he would return to this place in Emil’s form. If it was Emil in old age, then perhaps he would be able to get a glimpse of Aster’s life, who he should have watched over. If it was the sixteen year old Emil… Richter let out a faint laugh. It seemed like something Ratatosk would do. He wouldn’t mind spending a thousand years here in that case.
He would gladly repay that kindness for the sake of the world that gave birth to Aster and allowed them to meet. He prayed to be able to once again research day in and out alongside Aster once he was released. He knew it was impossible, but that feeling revived in Richter’s chest again and again, carrying him away to those nostalgic days.
He heard giggling as he began to space out again. He cleared his throat. Once again, there were giggles.
Centurion Aqua and Centurion Tenebrae—they dispersed to escape at that moment. He wasn’t able to see them, but he could sense them. Those two, along with the rest of the Centurions, were busy controlling monsters and working on separating mana from the world, but occasionally they would return and tease Richter. It was their own form of consideration.
Richter put his hand against the core on his forehead. He was looking forward to hearing about Ratatosk’s happy travels as a human. Richter believed that somewhere in there, he would find proof that Aster was still alive.
End
Flashback quotes:
The first one is after the worlds were merged, and half-elves were released. The line is from Richter, who never thought he'd be able to leave. The second one is from Aster, when he's lamenting he only has so many more decades left as a human, and wishes he could continue to research for eternity. (This is just before they enter Ginnungagap) (Sorry kid).
The third one is Rilena, talking about the relationship between Aster and Richter and how well they've been able to get along. They're using scientific terms here rather than normal terms to describe human relationships, in terms of humans and half-elves getting along, so out of context it doesn't make much sense. But she's saying that they built a really well relationship, to the point she's even a little jealous of it.
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