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leclercss · 1 year

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Tainted Love, Part 3 (Charles Leclerc ft. Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: thanks so much for all of your positive feedback so far. really happy that you guys are enjoying this story. i'm hoping my creative juices stay flowing but in the mean time, let's talk about the husband (ifykyk).

word count: 3.7k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader

What time shall I pick you up? x

Baby, I think we need to talk about yesterday x

Call me when you're awake okay? Love you x

You're currently standing in Charles' kitchen as your eyes scan the unread messages that your husband has sent through the night. You're not sure what you think or how you feel about the messages.

It's the first time since you arrived at Charles' apartment that Lewis has even crossed your mind. You're telling yourself that you should feel some guilt as he's starting to sound a little desperate with his messages but you mostly just miss the feeling of Charles.

It's currently 06:10. You haven't slept much throughout the night, probably about thirty minutes altogether. You and Charles had been keeping each other busy and awake. You'd spent a decent amount of time pleasuring one another. Charles' head had spent a considerable amount of time between your thighs. You had returned the favour to Charles by pleasuring him with your mouth, switching between slow and sensual blowjobs to Charles basically fucking your mouth. This was in between you guys trying out different positions with each other - Charles had loved fucking you from behind but he loved seeing you on top of him more, riding him as your boobs bounced in his face. You'd also spent a lot of time having intimate sex, softly kissing one another and running your hands all over each other's bodies as he moved in and out of you.

But your favourite moments were the ones where you lay on each other, limbs intertwined talking about life. You'd come to learn about each other's lives - about your similarities and your differences. Both of your fathers had passed away when you were in your mid-to-late teens. You both had a love for travelling. Charles was a talented piano player, you could barely play the triangle. You were both silly and playful with one another but compassionate and open to learning more about the person laying in their arms.

It was clear you had a connection but how deep this went, only time would tell.

As you stand in the kitchen, your body covered in one of Charles' t-shirts, which happened to be of Ferrari, your eyes go back to the texts on your phone. How and when do you respond to them?

You'd always thought that if you ever took the opportunity to sleep with someone else other than Lewis you'd have been filled with guilt and regret. But here you stood in another man's apartment, spending the last 5 hours of your life having sex with him and telling him your life story. Lewis was an afterthought.

"Can't sleep?"

The voice behind you takes you out of your thoughts. It has caused you to jump a little both from the surprise but also from the fact that it doesn't belong to Charles. You turn to see one of his friends standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest looking at you. You think this one is Hugo.

"Erm, yeah, I guess. I thought I'd take the chance to check my phone. Charles is currently asleep," you respond.

"You're checking to see if your husband has messaged right?"

You're a little taken aback by his question but you answer him out of politeness. "I hadn't checked my phone since I got here last night. Just checking in on life".

The conversation has taken you by surprise, especially at this hour. You're vague with your answer, not really wanting to dive into a conversation about what you're going to say to your husband after you've been fucking somebody else for the whole night. Especially with someone whose name you can barely remember.

"That's not what I asked, but okay".

His bluntness causes you to frown. You don't want to find yourself in an interrogation over something that's none of his business so you grab your phone and handbag and start to make your way back to Charles' room. But before you make your way down the hall, his voice stops you in your tracks.

"It's nothing personal, by the way. But you're a married woman, who's been having sex with my friend all night," his voice is a little softer this time. "Charles seems unfazed by the fact that you're married but it'd be strange if I didn't have questions. I'm just looking out for my friend".

You turn your head slightly to nod, acknowledging him with a half smile before making your way back to Charles.

You quietly make your way into his room, placing your phone and handbag onto his bedside table before climbing back into bed. You lay your head on his chest and begin to make yourself comfortable when you hear a voice beneath you.

"Mmm... you're back," Charles utters. "Thought you'd sneaked out and left me".

You smile as you tilt your head so you're looking up at him. He's looking down at you, his eyes looking like he could fall back asleep at any moment although he doesn't seem to mind that you've woken him up as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his if it was even possible.

"I was just getting some water in the kitchen before getting my bag and phone," you tell him before placing a couple of kisses on his chest.

"I'm glad you're back," he whispers as his eyes slowly close with a smile plastered on his face. He's about to fall back asleep but he manages to tell you one more thing, "by the way, you look so sexy in my Ferrari top".

You can't help but smile at him before he drifts back to sleep. You stare up at him for a moment, mesmerised by his beauty before laying your head on his chest once more and finally closing your eyes for some well-needed sleep.

The feeling of something hard against your thigh was enough to take you out of your slumber. You let out a little groan as the world starts to come back to you. As you have a quick look over your shoulder, you notice that Charles is well and truly awake. His body is pressed against you from behind and the something hard is his penis erect against you.

"Morning, baby," he whispers in your ear and it's you feel a butterfly in your stomach.

"Mmm... Morning Charles," you mumble as you place your hand on top of the one that he has spread across your stomach.

Charles is clearly eager to feel you up and get back down to business as he's beginning to gently grope at your skin and he lightly thrusts his hips against you so his dick is rubbing you. Your hand reaches back so you can run your fingers through his hair but it's not enough for him. He's impatient and ready to fuck you.

"[Y/N], I want you," he growls into your ear before he begins to lick and suck on your skin just below. You're not putting up much of a defence as one of his knees is pushing your legs open so he has better access to the part of you he's so badly craving.

You're already so wet for him as he starts to rub circles on your clit and a soft moan escapes your lips as you lean further back against his chest.

"Mmmm, that feels good," your voice is delicate as the last of the sleep leaves your body.

Charles clearly isn't in the mood to play around as you feel him push his dick against your slit. He pushes it lightly past your folds and thrusts a couple of time.

"Ohh... Charles," you groan with pleasure.

You feel his breath against your ear, he's panting lightly. Clearly ready, you lower your hand that's still on top of Charles' on your stomach and place it between your legs. You don't hesitate as you use your hand to push his dick inside of you. You both moan simultaneously as he begins to fill you.

He wastes no more time and begins to thrust inside of you immediately. He's spent so much time inside of you that your body needs no time to adjust. You're already moaning for him as he's building his speed inside of you rapidly.

"Oh my god!" you cry as he's starting to pound you from behind. The hand in his hair is now pulling at the strands as you're trying not to moan so loudly but it's a difficult task when he's already fucking you this hard and this fast.

"Charles, don't stop" you moan as you dig your nails into the arm that's wrapped around you. You don't need to tell him to keep going, his pace is still relentless.

"You look so sexy when I'm fucking you like this, amour," he pants in your ear as he started to grope at your boobs that are still covered in his Ferrari t-shirt.

You're basically whimpering in his arms at this point. His pace hasn't faltered once and his stamina is admirable. He's just pounding into you from behind, sending your body into overdrive.

"Please," you don't know what you're saying please for exactly. He takes this as a sign to pleasure you even further as his free hand makes his way down to your clit and he begins to rub circles. Your clit is so swollen and sensitive that just feeling his slightest touch is causing you to hiss.

It's another couple of minutes of Charles pounding the life out of you from behind and you can feel your orgasm fast approaching. He senses this and picks up the pace with your clit, driving you even closer to your orgasm.

"Charles, please," you beg him. The assault on you is almost too much to handle.

"[Y/N], I want to feel you cum for me." You're not sure if it's a command but you soon hit your peak and cry out as your orgasm hits you in waves.

Charles continues to fuck you through your high as he's now fast approaching his own climax. He's so lost in fucking you that he almost pulls out too late before he's spilling his cum onto your thigh, grunting in the process.

"Merde!"

His body finally relaxes around you as he lays on his back. You're still recovering from your orgasm when you feel his fingers gently tracing along your spine.

"Amour, that was incredible," he whispers as he's still catching his breath. You finally find the energy to roll over and lay your head against his chest.

"It was," you whisper as you lay a peck on his chest and shut your eyes, taking in this feeling.

It was hard to say goodbye to Charles but you knew that at some point you had to return home. To return to your husband.

After having a shower with Charles, where you used it as one last opportunity to touch and grope one another, you realised that you'd left your spare clothes and bag at Whitney's. Deciding that you weren't ready to rock up at her house in another man's clothes, you made the decision to wear one of Charles' t-shirts and pair of shorts back home and you'd pick up your bags later. You knew she'd have questions about your dancing and kiss with Charles last night.

A kiss you could explain, but rocking up in random clothes when you told her you'd gone home was going to be a lot harder to talk your way out of.

As you sat in the Uber heading back to your apartment, you remembered how you had left Charles with a passionate kiss and a promise that you'd see each other again soon.

Despite the many hours you had spent with Charles, you still weren't 100% sure of how "open relationships" truly worked. And you were beginning to think of the questions you were going to get from Lewis when you rocked up in Charles' clothes.

The thing is, what could he say to you? You hadn't broken the rules you had agreed when you accepted the terms of the open marriage:

No friends, no friends of friends, no colleagues, no ex-colleagues, no falling in love and no pregnancies. Basically, there was to be no evidence or trace left behind to spare the other's feelings. God, how did you buy into this bullshit idea?

But one thing you had never agreed on or discussed was the possibility of sleeping with the same person more than one time - unless it was with each other.

Reality was starting to sink in and you were beginning to realise that you had just as many questions about all of this as you predicted Lewis would have when you finally made it home.

"Hey babe, am I allowed to fuck the same guy over and over again?"

As much as you originally hated this whole arrangement and had told yourself you wouldn't partake in this open marriage, you were beginning to realise that you were getting yourself into dangerous territory. This wasn't your game to play but now you couldn't help yourself. You'd had the taster with Charles and you'd be going back for a second course.

Or a third, or fourth, or fifth.

Shit! You tell yourself to get it together, you're about 10 minutes away from home and you notice that Lewis still hasn't replied to your text saying that you were on the way home. But he's read the text. Based on how constant his texts were last night, you knew he was going to be pissed if he hasn't replied.

Before pulling up outside your apartment building, you send a text to Whitney asking if you could call by at some point to pick up your things before the weekend was up. This could be your excuse to leave if things got heated with Lewis again.

You make your way into your apartment building and say a little prayer to yourself before facing what you expect to be the wrath of your husband.

"Yeah, well how many girls have you fucked?"

That was going to be your argument if things got heated. Surely that was enough, right?

You take a deep breath as you begin to open your front door and make your way inside. It's quiet.

You shut the door and make your way into the living room, not really sure whether to call out Lewis' name to let him know that you're home or to basically sneak in and get changed out of Charles' clothes as soon as possible.

Your choice is made for you as you see Lewis sprawled across the couch with his eyes completely glued to his phone. The British bulldog which you share, Roscoe, is lying by his side.

"Hey," your voice is so quiet you're not sure if Lewis hears you as he's still tapping away on his phone. But he must have decided to ignore you as Roscoe lifts his head at the sound of your voice and pants with excitement as he sees you standing in the doorway. He climbs off of Lewis and makes his way over to you, running around your feet.

"Hey cutie," you giggle as you lean down to hug and pet him.

After a moment of playing with Roscoe, you look over at Lewis to see if he's looking away from his phone yet. He's not. He's still tapping furiously at his phone. His tongue slightly poking out from the side and his eyebrows are crossed.

"Hey, Lew," you say. You stand up and the dog at your feet makes his way back to Lewis on the sofa, placing himself by Lewis' feet.

"Nice to know that someone knows how to come back to me, hey Roscoe," Lewis grunts. He's still looking at his phone.

So this was going to be his attitude? You try not to roll your eyes, knowing that if Lewis catches it his passive-aggressive attitude will only worsen.

"Nice to see you too," you mumble as you sit down on one of the armchairs as you look over to Lewis.

He's silent for a few moments, still tapping away. You want to take the phone out of his hand but that idea is put on hold as he speaks his first words to you since returning home.

"Good night?"

That was it?

"Erm, yeah, it was," you could barely hear your own voice. Now that he was speaking to you, all of the confidence you had in the Uber has left your body.

"Yeah, must have been a good one," he continues. He locks his phone and places it on his stomach so he can finally look at you. And when he does, his dark brown eyes feel like they're staring into your soul. "I can tell it was a good one because you've turned up in someone else's clothes".

Shit.

"Even though you brought a bag with you last night. You stayed at Whitney's right?"

You gulp. You're royally fucked.

"We went back to someone else's for afters," you tell him. I mean, it wasn't really a lie? You did go to someone else's for afters.

"And you didn't go back to Whitney's to get your stuff before coming here?" He's staring at you still. You're not sure if his expression is one of amusement or anger.

"Erm, no... the place was closer to here than to Whitney's," you lie.

He starts laughing. He's actually laughing at you.

"Okay, [Y/N]. You don't need to embarrass yourself with these lies. If you went back to someone else's house and fucked him just say it," he chuckles.

But you don't say anything. Your nerves are growing by the second and you're not sure if you want to pass out or throw up as the conversation is developing. He has some nerve. All of the times he's slept with someone behind your back and he's sitting here laughing at you.

But he doesn't laugh for much longer as his facial expression turns.

"I said say it!" the tone of his voice shocks you and you're no longer confused about the expression in his eyes. He's furious. You're pretty sure the only reason he hasn't shouted at you is to stop Roscoe from barking like mad. The poor dog went crazy when you and Lewis were screaming at each other the other day.

You're not really sure what your next move will be. You're trying to hear your own thoughts but your heart is beating so loudly that it's basically thumping in your ears. You can't think. All you can do is just look at Lewis who's anger and frustration with you is growing by the second.

"You really can't say it huh?" he scoffs before picking himself off the sofa and storming into the kitchen. Roscoe follows suit.

You take a moment before you go after him. You're not sure why you decide to follow him. Curiosity? Stupidity? God knows but you both know the conversation isn't finished.

You walk into Lewis slamming pots and pans around as if he's attempting to make something but all he's doing is causing chaos and poor Roscoe is following him helplessly and confused.

"Go away, [Y/N]".

You let out a sigh as your eyes follow your husband's movements.

"Lewis, can you just stop for a second?" you plead with him but your plea falls on deaf ears.

"What part of go away do you not understand?"

This time you can't help but scoff, growing tired of his antics. After the way he's treated you for the last eighteen months, something inside of you is telling you to finally grow some balls.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You've slept with how many women during our marriage and you're mad at me?" you cry out.

Your eyes are still on Lewis. His hands are gripping onto the counter, his back turned away from you. His fingers are going white with the pressure and tension he's putting on them. "It's not the same thing!"

You scoff again and you're surprised it doesn't cause Lewis to lose it altogether but he's using every restraint in his body not to shout at you.

You want to tell him to fuck off at his hypocrisy. You agreed to this bullshit situation for him and he's the one that's pissed?

"How is it not the same thing?"

This time your voice is louder. You're digging your nails into your hands to stop you from screaming. He doesn't answer you.

You give him another couple of seconds. He says nothing. You notice his body is starting to shake. But you don't care, you're going to push his buttons with your newfound confidence, "Oh! Now you're the one who doesn't want to answer?"

It's almost like you want him to break. You want to push his buttons so hard for him to snap at you. To show that he actually gives an ounce of crap about you.

Roscoe's now barking at the tension in the room. Lewis is still quiet. Still looking away from you.

How has he not snapped yet?

The tension in the room is like a pressure cooker. Ready to explode at any moment.

"Lew-"

"You're wearing his fucking clothes!" His outburst is met with his palms hitting the countertop with pure rage.

He's finally snapped. He finally turns to face you and you have never seen him look so angry. At least not when it came to you.

"You fucked him? Fine! But you broke a fucking rule," his voice is so loud that even Roscoe has stopped barking out of shock.

You say nothing. You just look at him. His chest is rising and falling dramatically. His eyes are almost black with anger and he's now gripping onto his braids to somehow stop himself from doing something stupid.

He's not done. "You barely answer your phone after we've had the biggest argument of our relationship. You stroll in here at 1:30 in the afternoon as if you haven't been gone for almost two days already and you don't even have the decency to change into your own clothes? And you're here, wearing his clothes as if it's some fucking achievement that you've finally shagged someone else. Well, congratulations!"

Silence.

You don't really know what to say. You're not sure if you want to nominate him for an Oscar or burst into tears. Instead, you just look at him, stunned into silence.

Lewis finally makes the first move as he walks towards the doorway, towards you. He's about to pass you but he stops right in front of you, this time he's no longer looking at you as if he's ashamed of you. Like a parent who's disappointed in their child.

"I may have started this whole thing but you've brought a piece of him into our home," he growls before walking past you.

You've broken a rule.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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cinnamonest · 1 year

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Yandere Profile - Mika

I have this rare condition where when a boy is soft and shy I reflexively must make him a horrible little deranged gremlin and then subject others to the horrors I have created, it's incurable I'm afraid

//yandere, dubcon/sorta noncon, somnophilia, abduction, descriptions of psychological problems, very brief/vague potential emetophobia trigger

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

In addition to his obvious shyness and timidness, the primary characteristic that defines Mika's behavior with you might come as quite a surprise to anyone who knows him: Mika has low impulse control.

Not a trait you'd expect, nor is it what most who know him would ever think of him. He often gives off quite the opposite impression, being a very diligent worker and often refraining from the unsavory behaviors many of his peers engage in.

But, see, it's not something that's ever really been an issue. That's the thing — this lack of impulse control is not so much a reflection of his character, and more so due to the simple fact that for the majority of his life, he has never had very strong impulses, and whenever he does, it's never to do anything morally wrong.

He's always been good-natured and benevolent, always wanting to please people and help people, and can't recall a time where he's ever really wanted to do something that harms someone. Even typical human nature impulses like stealing or lying don't really come to him, he's just that naturally sweet and compassionate and morally upright. His impulses are all good impulses, such as impulses to help people, impulses to apologize when someone is inconvenienced.

He's never really done anything malicious or harmful or selfish, and has never had to even learn impulse control, because he's never had an impulse to do anything bad.

Until he does. And when that happens, it's going to become a serious problem very quickly.

Still, that doesn't mean he has zero hesitancy, or no limitations to how far his impulses will go before, under certain circumstances, fear or ethics stops him. Rather, Mika has this back-and-forth, push-and-pull duality between impulse and hesitancy. Sometimes the hesitancy and nervousness has control over his actions for various durations of time before impulse takes over, and sometimes one or the other wins out. Oftentimes, he has almost amusing contradictory behaviors, where he has something he refuses to do and something he'll do without hesitation, where the two things seem to be at odds in severity — some minor offense he tenses and shakes his head at even the thought of committing, alongside some very serious offense he goes through with without a second thought.

In terms of how he initially interacts with you, though, you barely know Mika exists. And frankly, he prefers that.

You had one singular interaction. It didn't last more than a few seconds. A very short, simple, typical interaction — he was carrying a whole armful of various objects to drop them off in another room of the headquarters, dropped one. Turned back to grab it, but by the time he did, you were standing there, having picked it up, holding it out. Smiling.

Here, I got it.

You set it back in his arms, gave a quick no worries, it's fine! when he began to apologize, and turned around and walked off before he could say another word. It was no more than a few seconds. You've probably all but forgotten about it by the end of the day.

But he doesn't forget. You seemed very nice. Nice people give him some conflicting feelings — sure, it's pleasant, but people being nice to him also makes him very uncomfortable at times. Being subject to much attention, even positive attention, can be anxiety-inducing. People looking at him, people having expectations of him, having to try to successfully navigate a conversation without messing up and being awkward somehow, it can be exhausting, even.

Your niceness is no different. Pleasant and appreciated, but somehow discomforting at the same time, a nervousness over potentially doing something wrong. Did you hear the last "thank you" he said, or was he too talking too quietly? What if you didn't and now think he's ungrateful or rude? What if his hair or clothes were disheveled at the time and he didn't notice? There's so many possibilities by which something could be wrong, and it eats away at him.

From that day forward, he always notices you whenever you're nearby. The two of you never interact, you're in an entirely different field of work than him, but he does spot you once every few days or so, usually at a distance.

Don't expect anything more than a distance, though. Mika does pretty much all of his obsessing like that — a ways away from you, quietly observing. It starts as a mere fixation, he simply focuses on you when he happens to see you, but doesn't seek you out. Just watching, observing. He finds himself feeling oddly warm, this tight feeling in his chest. There was one time your eyes met and you smiled at him and he thought he might actually have felt his heart stop for a second.

He's self-aware, at least on this matter, doesn't need anyone to inform him that the flustered feeling and finding a person very pretty is quite obviously a matter of attraction. Just acknowledging that, though, fills him with a horrible feeling of embarrassment. He wouldn't stand a chance, he tells himself. You would never return the sentiment. He has no right to feel this way, and yet he does, and he can't make it stop. Soon he finds himself actually seeking you out in his spare time, finding spots to watch over you. The thought of trying to actually talk to you honestly doesn't even cross his mind. He's sure he'd panic and say something awkward, if not possibly even pass out. So that's definitely a no-go.

His mind does briefly consider the idea that he could try to distance himself and see if he stops thinking about it, which would alleviate him of all the nervousness... but this is where the impulse issue comes in. He considers it, maybe casually half-heartedly decides to do that, but even if any effort is put into trying to stay away, it's immediately broken by the compulsive urge to go find you.

I really should just go home...

So he thinks. But he doesn't. His feet don't even slow down or hesitate as he makes a direct line for where he's pretty sure you'll be at this time.

It progresses. It becomes more frequent that he seeks you out. One day, he watches you from across the room as everyone gathers to eat, they hand out paper cups with water to some people... and he watches you get up to throw yours away when you're done, stand up and leave and... once more, he seems to move without really consciously intending to do so. A few seconds and he's across the room, taking one quick glance over his shoulder to be sure no one is watching before grabbing it and pulling it back out.

This does strike him as odd, once he's walking back home with it in hand. That was definitely a very strange thing to do. He just thought about how it had your mouth on it, and his hands and feet seemed to develop a mind of their own... but now that he has it, there's no point in throwing it away, so he might as well keep it...

While he's self-aware of his feelings, it takes a little while before it registers with him how abnormal the extent of those feelings is. A few more of incidents like that one, where he notices that a certain actions was a little odd, before one day it hits him that he's done quite a few of those recently, actions and choices that seem strange and bizarre. Every single one of said occurrences pertains to you in some way. He makes the connection, he knows it's weird and possibly indicative of unhealthy attachment, but doesn't know what to really do with that information.

He tries to stop doing it. He really does. He tells himself it's weird and that he needs to stop doing those things, stop following you, stop constantly thinking of you.

He doesn't stop.

He did try, really. It just... didn't work. He told himself he wouldn't do anything further, but he just couldn't stop himself, couldn't repress the compulsion.

But it's not harming anyone, is it? So he rationalizes to himself, trying to make himself feel better after a long session of wallowing in shame. So while odd, it should all be okay, nothing bad will happen.

He's never had to deal with these types of feelings before. Never had to try to control himself from doing something that would harm someone, because normally, the very notion that an action would harm someone makes him feel averse to that course of action. He has very little to no experience in refraining or holding himself back from temptations.

It gets worse. Progressively becoming more and more intense and obsessive. He starts to feel other emotions, very negative ones, when watching you go about your day and interact with others. He's still self-aware enough to know that it's jealousy, and frankly he feels embarrassed for getting jealous over something so simple, it makes him feel like he's being immature and pathetic. And he knows he's crossed a line of acceptableness long ago, knows that it's obsessive, knows it's unhealthy. At first, he was able to lie to himself.

But he just can't make it stop.

Thus he begins to adopt what will become a defining trait of his, an interesting balance between lucidity and delusion. He can't outright admit to himself that his actions are ethically bad, because he'll feel too guilty, it would eat him alive. Yet, he initially doesn't want to face that guilt and admit the reality to himself in entirety, because that means the only solution is to stop and he doesn't want to have to stop.

He will try to delude himself, he just... usually sort of half-fails. He'll try to convince himself that his actions are solely altruistic, that what he's doing is selfless... but eventually he gives up, faces the truth he's been pushing to the back of his mind. Yet at the same time, he'll then try to balance it, a sort of moral bargaining. He'll admit to himself that his actions are selfish — but, it's doing good too. He's doing this because of his own urges, but it's not wrong to say that it is also for your own good, because he's watching over you and can protect you should something bad happen. Both can be true. Why think about it as an either-or matter? Taking this frame of mind significantly helps him cope with coming to terms with the selfishness of his actions. So on one hand, he's honest with himself, but he still throws in a few touches of delusional thinking to make himself feel better.

Mika also has a very bad habit of avoidance. With most situations, he's learned how to adapt to the normal world and can, if necessary, confront basic negative social situations, but he has this tendency to really avoid confrontations or social things that make him particularly uncomfortable, to a greater degree than most people. If he has a feeling someone is upset with him (but hasn't had it confirmed yet, or else he'd feel obligated to apologize and thus override the avoidance), he will go to great lengths to avoid confrontation from them. When he has to have a difficult talk with someone, he pushes it as close to the end of the day as possible, arguably making it worse due to dread.

And when he has some thought that makes him uncomfortable or guilty, he pushes it away. He can't push it out of his mind completely, but he tries as much as he can to simply avoid thinking about it.

Such is how his actions towards you become. At first he acknowledged it, and tried to fix it, but the more apparent it becomes that he can't stop himself, the more he adopts this mentality of avoidance. It's the only way he can cope with what would otherwise be a lot of self-directed frustration and guilt. He just avoids it.

He tries to not think about the fact that certain thoughts he has or certain things he does are unusual, or perhaps worse, would even be perceived as inappropriate. He's a people-pleaser by nature, tries hard to make sure no one is upset with him or dislikes him, and thus the thought of doing something that would be perceived that way makes his stomach churn — and thus, he only pushes the thought away even further, along with the alarming dread of the realization that said pushing is not a wise choice. He knows that, at least partially, this is him actively choosing a path that could have severe consequences, and that the thoughts he's dispelling are really his own sense of reason. But, of course, that thought gets cleared along with the others... not that this method can last forever.

He can just push any bad thoughts away, repeat lies to himself over and over until he starts to believe them in some sense, even if he knows they're not true deep deep down. While it certainly won't end well, for now, that's the only solution he has.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

You'd actually be quite surprised at how quickly he'll resort to kidnapping. At first, he might seem like the type to never do so out of guilt or a strong desire for moral correctness, and while it's true that those sentiments are there and quite strong, that difficulty to retain his sense of inhibition comes back to bite him yet again. He's obviously not the sort of person who would do such a thing without shame or care, like some less ethically sound, more brazenly narcissistic, or more mentally unwell individuals might. No, the thought strikes him with a jolt of reprehension and guilt for even allowing that sort of thought, so he pushes it out of his mind.

It just sort of happens. The sort of thing one does where they're almost in a sort of trance or dissociative state, acting in an automated way to go through with something without much conscious intent. An absent-minded action here or there, perhaps with some actual intent to shift his mind into an auto-piloted state as he buys things, arranges things. As with everything else, even if he knows it's not true, he can tell himself little lies over and over, so that even though at this point he actively acknowledges what his desires are, he can present himself with other reasons for each step that soothe his unease... otherwise, if he didn't feed himself those ideas, he might not be able to bring himself to do it. He tells himself that that he went to another town to buy rope because he needed to take a long walk to clear his head, not so that the purchase would be less traceable. He makes up little what-if scenarios to rationalize why he's buying this or that, alternative uses for which it might hypothetically one day be useful. That he's moving to a new place of his own for Independence and all that, and not to have somewhere to store you.

See, that gives him the opportunity to back out. It stops him from having to acknowledge any determined commitment to the fantasies he's run through in his head, and thereby allows him to distance himself from any panic, guilt, or other negative emotion that would drown him if he were to resolutely and firmly commit to fulfilling said fantasy. He can allow himself some false sense of casual undecidedness, because if he acknowledges that there's really one sole reason he's getting these things together, it will eat him up internally.

Likewise, he never sets a specific date to do anything. That would be acknowledgement of intent, he can't have that. He just... gets the necessary things together, sets up all the arrangements with an absent mind, and waits.

There's no particular trigger, actually. Nothing that specifically sets him off or pushes him to make his move. Once more, it just happens. Without any real reason for that specific moment, he just finds his feet wandering, veering a different way than he initially intended to go. He's already memorized where you live and what your route to get there is, and has already absent-mindedly come up with three possible routes from your place to the one he's set up to be his from now on. He shuts down any conscious thought — who can say to what degree was that itself a conscious decision, if he really thought about it at all — and moves.

And such is how, within an hour or so, he finds himself standing to the side of his own bed, wide-eyed and perfectly still, staring down at your peacefully unconscious face, the rise and fall of your chest. It's not until then that it sort of comes crashing down on him all at once. Frankly, it's for the best that you're unconscious for the initial borderline panic attack and subsequent mental breakdown, because any interference from you might have made him worse. He breathes hard and fast, his body starts to shiver, his hands curl up so hard his knuckles go white, his eyes water up, he ends up stumbling over to the nearest trash bin and spends a half-hour too sick to move from the spot. Coming to terms with what has occurred — what he did — is enough to put him in a very bad state for quite some time.

But time passes, and while he's certainly not calmed down, the violently sick and tearful outbursts are soon over, and he finds himself merely sitting sprawled out on the floor, heavy breathing, face buried in his shaking hands as it all sinks in. There's a singular moment then and there where he takes a deep breath in and out, and forces himself to firmly acknowledge the reality of things... he knows he has to, at this point, because not doing so will make things fall apart, and then he's screwed if you get out. Now, he tells himself, he has to get up and move forward and live with his choices... and spend whatever time he has left before you wake up preparing and rehearsing exactly what he'll say to you. Yeah, that's a good start...

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He's very paranoid of the possibility for escape, so he goes all-out in terms of his measures. For starters, for a long while, he keeps you bound by one ankle to the bedpost — but it's leather, he went out of his way to make sure you'd be comfortable! Just to make sure you don't go wandering off. And, of course, adds a series of locks to the door from the outside.

The unfortunate thing for you is that he's also very precise and skillful in anything requiring mathematic-like abilities, and as such, the further measures he takes are very effective. It's not as simple as putting something heavy in front of the door, no, he goes out of his way to get down on the ground, measure the width and height of the door, the surface area it will move over when it opens, the distance to the nearest wall corner and the angle, and from there creates a simple mechanism out of basic materials that he can install and lock into place whenever he leaves, that touches the opposite wall and the door itself, making it impossible to open the door unless removed by someone on the same side as said mechanism.

And that's not all. He's got a snare trap he learned from hunting (loop made a bit bigger for a human foot, of course) set just beyond the door just in case, and every night when you go to bed, he always leaves the room for just a second to do something he refuses to tell you about when you ask, which is actually putting up some mechanisms above the doors so that if they open, it'll make a loud sound. Not that you really stand a chance of getting your ankle unbound and out of his arms anyway, but you know, just in case.

That's what most of his measures are, just precautions for all sorts of possibilities his brain comes up with, all the little things you could use or do. Which is why, in addition to setting up mechanisms to keep you in, he's also extremely careful about what you can get your hands on. He himself has had a lot of experience with situations where he had to get creative and use common everyday items to improvise for tools, so he's very familiar with the concept of makeshift items for purposes like lockpicking, heat conducting, even makeshift weaponry. Consequently, every time he considers giving you something or bringing you something, he runs the idea through his head to think of any possible means by which you may end up using it against him.

Ultimately, there are so many measures taken that even if you manage to get through one, the next will likely catch you, and any potential successful escape will undoubtedly require some trial and error lessons from previous attempts. Should he find you caught in one of said anti-escape traps, he frets over your condition, checking to see if it hurt you or something before rushing you back inside... but thereafter, he just gets quiet, sad, and pitiful-looking for a while. He waits for you to say something first, but if you don't, after a little while of silence he'll finally voice his feelings.

...I want you to be happy here, so... if there's something making you unhappy...

Or so he says, but your most likely complaints — that you want to leave, or want more freedoms or the like — will go in one ear and out the other, with him telling you he can't allow that (for your own well-being, of course!) and telling himself that there must be something else, some other way he can appease your desires without giving you what you actually want. The more he tells himself that, the more he can shove aside the gnawing pessimistic thoughts in the back of his head that you'll never get accustomed to him and never give in. That's not true, no. He'll find a way eventually.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

If anything, you have trouble getting him to believe the truth. He's quite paranoid, and is always suspicious of everything, thinks everything is a potential lie.

Not that he's hostile about it. He's torn between his paranoia and not wanting to offend you by implying you're lying, so whenever you try to convince him of something, he works his way around giving you a direct statement in reply.

Well, I'll have to look into it myself...

I don't know about that...

Maybe we can pick back up on this conversation later, okay?

Trying (and not doing a very great job) to make it less obvious that he doesn't believe you, so you don't get upset. Although he makes it a bit too obvious considering that if it turns out you're right, he'll come back and apologize for not believing you, even though he was clearly trying to hide that fact beforehand.

He never acts on anything you say without going out of his way to check the validity of your statements. Sometimes this can get genuinely very annoying when he consumes unnecessary time doing so, especially because he also gets other bouts of paranoia and refuses to believe your reassurances. Like once when you made food for him (more out of boredom than anything), despite having done so dozens of times by now, this one particular time paranoia strikes and he pauses and asks if you did something to it.

No. Why, does it smell or taste weird?

No...

Then what's wrong with it? Why do you think that?

I just... I don't know...

There really is nothing wrong with it, he just has these intrusive worrisome thoughts and can't shake them. You keep reassuring him it's fine and he just refuses to believe you. He does this a lot with all sorts of things, randomly deciding that you're hiding something or have done something or are plotting something and reassuring him just won't work, he ends up taking all sorts of unnecessary measures to prevent whatever thing he thinks you're done or are doing that isn't actually happening.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Of course, he goes out of his way to do anything he thinks will win your favor or make you like him more, which usually includes using whatever money he has on him to buy as many things for you as he can. Anything related to something you like, some hobby that could occupy your time, or just generic, standard gifts like chocolate and flowers and clothes that he hopes will win at least some favor points.

Otherwise, he's actually not as lenient as you might expect due to sheer paranoia. Sure, he would like to grant your requests to go outside for walks or write to your family, he really would, and it makes him feel so awful and sick to deny you that, but he's just too worried. And as aforementioned, he's very careful about what you can get ahold of, surveys every items within your vicinity to ensure it can't be used for any harmful or unwanted purposes.

This means that your hobbies and requests are also often limited. You can do art, but only paint and wax utensils, no actual pens or pencils, too pointy and too much weapon potential. You can knit with very dull knitting needles, but no sewing or any needles with actual skin-breaking potential. And you can cook, just only while he watches, and no knives other than a butter knife. But... you can just let him do that, he'll gladly make food for you anyway (hope you like knight rations!), so there's no need for you to do so, so he says. Very obviously trying to deter you from a hobby he would prefer you not do out of fear you'll find a way to utilize what you have (what will you do? Boil water and throw it at him? Hit him with a metal pan?), but he allows it if it makes you happy.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

They're more like requests, at least with how he says it.

Just stay in here and don't make any noise... please.

Um, please don't touch that... it's dangerous, I forgot to out it away, so... could you hand it over...?

Are you... ignoring me on purpose? I really wish you wouldn't do that...

But he realizes in a very short time that you do not fear or respect him in any capacity. Which he might have predicted, but it still hurts a bit. Logically, it makes sense, he knows he's perceived as a very meek person, and he knows that you have no real reason to see him as a force to be obeyed. He knows that in order to actually enforce behaviors, he needs to have you intimidated. He doesn't like the idea of making you afraid, but it may be necessary... unfortunately his attempts don't go over very well at first when you show defiance.

Oh yeah? Or what?

Or I'll, uh... I'll do something... bad....

Needless to say, you didn't seem particularly frightened.

Thus, when deciding how to address the issues of your behavior, he runs into a metaphorical wall, can't think of anything at all. Unlike taking you and bringing you here and following you and all those other behaviors, punishment actually does some harm and must be unpleasant for you, and he can't justify punishment to himself. He can't stand the thought of being cruel, or making you hate him, so for a while, he largely just lets you get away with violating the "rules" he sets...

...Until it occurs to him that he might be looking at it from the wrong perspective.

It ties back into his tendency to half-delude himself. Everything else he's done was for your own good, or at least he can rationalize it as such if he tries, even if he knows deep down that wasn't the primary motivation. It still helped you be together. And to keep you here, he has to take measures to ensure you don't leave, including reprimanding behaviors that aren't good for you and him. He wants to not have to do anything bad to you, but by doing so once or twice, you'll learn not to do the things you shouldn't, and he won't have to do anything bad. That's how parents and teachers and the like approach having to punish kids, right? Same idea. Thus, it's a temporary measure, if anything, it takes a lot of care for you to be willing to force himself to do it.

Still, he finds the thought of actually hurting you difficult. What he ends up coming up with is, essentially, deprivation. He read about something similar in a book once, that it was used as a psychological torture tactic at some point. Covering your eyes and ears, binding your hands and feet, and leaving you alone for hours on end. At first you're mad, he can tell you're jerking about and trying to rub the binds off. Then you go quiet, for some time. It's difficult for him to handle, he's constantly looking back at you to ensure you're alright.

It doesn't take as long as he expected. Within forty-eight hours or so, you reach a breaking point, you break down and start to shiver with whimpers and sobs. That's all it takes for him to bolt over to your side, pulling everything off as fast as he can and holding you close, apologizing over and over and assuring you that everything is fine. Look, he even had food ready because he was so concerned... so please don't be mad. It hurts him too.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Much like with kidnapping, he's not unlikely to kill as you might think.

In the initial stages of stalking and following, he takes immediate notice of anyone you hang around a lot. Even from the very start, just seeing you speak to and interact with other people gives him an unpleasant pang of some very negative feeling in his chest, but the severity of it steadily increases each time he sees you interact with the same person.

After a very short time, he figures out who the people you're closest to are, and watches you with each day as you interact. He feels nauseous. There's a twisting, tight feeling in his stomach. A tightness in his chest. He recognizes it as an extension of irritation and resentment, and it doesn't take much though to recognize that, contextually, as jealousy. It makes him bounce back and forth between hurt and sadness and anger.

He feels bad for feeling that way, though. Jealousy is a bad thing, it's an immature and selfish emotion, so he's always believed. At least, that's how he used to view it when observing it in others, but it's an entirely different matter to experience it for oneself. Now he understands the ways he's seen people act in fits of jealousy, what he used to dismiss as unwell or hysterical individuals' behavior now seems so much more understandable.

Initially, he tries to just focus on watching you to ensure your safety and to ignore the feeling — predictably, based on already established tendencies, this does not go over well. The resentment he feels towards the other person swells with each passing day. So does the guilt that he feels for holding so much malice towards another person, but the guilt doesn't stop the malice itself. It just gets worse.

It's also frightening, in a way. He knows that he's developing these negative sentiments, knows it's not healthy, knows it can lead him to rash and potentially dangerous impulsive choices, and the thought that he might do something bad without forethought scares him. Being self-aware of it is almost worse than being purely deluded, because he's aware of decreasing stability, he's aware of the abnormality, he's aware that these sentiments could lead him to make choices that are awful and wrong and could have serious consequences, all the things that outright delusion would keep him blissfully unattuned to. This is especially true the worse it gets, when he starts to actually have brief images flashing through his head or intrusive thoughts come to his mind about how he could get rid of them, ways and means by which he could carry out such an act.

That fear has an upside, though, in that the sheer fear of consequence keeps him from acting upon the urges, at least for some time. See, with something like kidnapping, the evidence itself is gone as a part of the act itself. But murder? What would he do with the body? How would he dispose of it without being seen? Even as the strength of his guilt begins to wane, the uncertainty and fear restrains him enough to not do anything, to sit there and be forced to tolerate it, even if it makes him feel sick. If anything, continuous interaction with someone is just going to hasten getting abducted for you.

If he does end up killing, unfortunately, it's purely impulsive, and consequently not well-planned. It actually takes him a moment to even recognize what he's done — he stands there in a daze, looking back and forth at his hands and the body now slumped over or on the ground or at the bottom of a long fall or whatever method was taken, processing it as his mind catches up to his actions. It doesn't feel "real" at first, as if he can't accept it being the reality before him.

But when he does, he panics. A sort of panic he's never felt before in his entire life, even in the most perilous of situations. Thankfully, out of the two most common responses to this situation — run away or hide the crime — he takes the latter, opting to at least dispose of it before trying to forget about it. Like everything else he does, he'll certainly spend a very long time repeatedly rationalizing it to himself, telling himself it was his only choice or that they were dangerous to you and he was doing something good, so on and so on.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He's slow to truly anger, but he's not that slow to simply get upset. Perhaps the best word for how his emotions manifest would be frustration. Stressful things or rare cases of disagreements where he's very firm on his stance and can't simply bow his head and concede, overwhelm him very easily. He gets tense, fidgety, and depending on who he's interacting with, often intimidated. But if he gets frustrated enough, he starts to ball his hands into fists, arms tense and straight at his side while he tries to deescalate the situation, or, if he's really upset, stand his ground and make it clear he won't be dissuaded.

If you push him into a metaphorical corner and be as argumentative and hostile as possible, though, honestly, he's more likely to cry than anything. He just gets overwhelmed and frustrated and the emotions become too much for him to handle, and his eyes well up with tears and he bites his lip. He feels it coming on, though, and he's very adamant that you not see that, as he finds it embarrassing and thinks it would damage your image of him. Thus, he ends up just making a sharp turn around and walking off to another room, only to come back a while later. If you try to bring the subject up again, he just tenses up and tries to deflect from it, outright saying he doesn't want to talk about it anymore if you're persistent.

This can become something of an issue of avoidance, where he swerves his way around hard conversations and having to hear things he'd rather not. He continuously flees conversations he doesn't like, both out of not wanting to be seen getting emotional and also because it's his way of shutting you down and avoiding having to acknowledge some of the very valid points you have.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Saying that he sees you as "above" him doesn't really capture the exact sentiment that he has.

He does pedestalize you to some extent, which you might have expected, but actually, he's not really the type of person to be sensitive to or even put much thought into the "worth" or "value" of a person, for very logical reasons: there's no set factors or qualities that determine worth and value, it's all subjective, and therefore can't truly be defined. And if it can't be defined, it can't be quantified. It can change based on perspective and mood. What's the point of thinking of people and oneself based on a system so vague and unsteady?

Ultimately, it's not so much a matter of worth or pedestalization, rather, what he gets obsessive and neurotic over is need.

The power dynamic subtly woven into all interpersonal relationships. One always needs the other more. One always cares more. In the social network, that is what matters above all else, whoever "wins" and "loses" in that sort of mind game. And he's painfully aware that he's the loser here, that he needs you more than you do him. He cares more, he wants you more. Acknowledging it hurts, but he can't lie to himself on this matter. At the same time, his mind goes blank when he tries to think of how to resolve the problem. There's really nothing he can do. He just has to hope that keeping you here makes up for what would otherwise be a vulnerability of his.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's incredibly determined, he just doesn't really know how to go about it. Mika has a very analytic, pragmatic brain, one that works well with concepts such as sentential logic, numerical functions and mathematics, and of course, cartography. Concepts with processes set in stone, laid out with a very clear way to arrive at a very specific solution or result. Things that are formulaic and linear.

Relationships between people are not like that. There is no perfect course of action guaranteed to produce the desired result. Everything is uncertain and uneasy, and that makes it such a nerve-wracking thing to deal with. At least he can try. There's not much more he can do, as much as he wishes there was some way to guarantee it.

Perhaps somewhat to his own detriment, in his perpetual attempts to alleviate his negative emotions and worry, when thinking of how to win you over, he sort of completely neglects to take the situation into account. That is, he completes dodges acknowledging the circumstances by which you're even here to begin with, approaches it as if you're in a normal situation and thus that normal things like gifts and kind words should work, avoiding any and all acknowledgement of the fact that having brought you here against your will is kind of an important part of it all, and one that has undoubtedly given you a very negative sentiment towards him. He feels sick even just letting his mind vaguely drift to thinking about what you must feel towards him, given his actions. No, he prefers to not think about that, and choose optimism instead, choose to believe his efforts will work eventually and there's definitely not some huge and possibly impossible obstacle to overcome. Lying to himself just feels better, you know?

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Firstly, his bargaining system. He develops this in his head, a two-part self-comfort mechanism where firstly, he goes back-and-forth rationalizing everything he does with some aspect making it less bad in his mind, and secondly, tries to pair every bad action with a good one. Since he has a strong sense of ethics and guilt, he can't just carelessly do what he does, nor begrudgingly accept himself the way others might. Thus, he spends a lot of time in deep thought, internally struggling with himself and dealing with his feelings. He will quite literally go down the list of everything he has done that he feels bad about, and think of a way it can be spun as something positive.

He bargains when thinking about potential actions as well, rationalizing, just spends so much time thinking about these things. He was always prone to overthinking, but now takes it to an extreme as he spends excessive amounts of time running over things in his head. That this action isn't that bad for this and that reason, this is acceptable because of these circumstances, so on and so on. He spends far more time obsessively going through these sorts of thoughts than others in his situation.

And then, he will literally tally the major offenses, and for each one, he does something good for you. Buys you something, does something for your sake, tries to perform some gesture to make you happy. He deals with his perceived sins on a one-to-one ratio, as if by doing a good thing, he somehow cancels out the bad things, or compensates for them, or something like that. He doesn't really fully understand the exact intent, but he knows that doing this makes him feel better.

There's also another unique factor: the initial impression he makes, the way you and pretty much anyone perceives him at first, begins to unravel over time. You begin to understand his true nature for what it is, even to a degree he himself has never done enough introspection to really understand. You gradually begin to realize that, even though it's subconscious for him, he's far more clever, deliberate, and even selfish than it would seem on the surface.

His tendencies for apologizing can get on your nerves very, very quickly, but you still pity him. At first, you don't think much of it other than him being burdened by guilt, you thought of him as someone with a very bad case of some deep psychological problem, someone who was a very good person deep down, but tormented by some uncontrollable condition or something. You feel bad for him, try to reason with him, thinking that his internal goodness, if invoked, will lead him to do the right thing.

But... perhaps it's because you hear his apologies so much that the words start to lose meaning, sorry becomes a jumbled set of sounds with no significance. And as your initial belief in the sincerity of his remorse wanes, the way you perceive him and his actions starts to shift as well. You have a lot of time to ponder things, and you start to feel like you're beginning to understand a darker element to his psychology that even he might not be fully aware of.

The constant apologies and meekness starts to seem to align with his intentions. That the apologetic sentiments aren't separate from or antithetical to his ultimate desires and goals, but rather, an active means by which he obtains those goals.

You notice little things you didn't before.

That even though he apologizes when doing something he thinks will invoke your anger, he doesn't seem shaky or hesitant. The words come out of his mouth, but his hands nonetheless move with straightforward, unhesitating intent. The illusion of this poor pitiful thing that just wants to love you seems to fade as you notice more, think about it more.

And one day, as he apologizes once more, in a moment of frustration, you narrow your eyes and snap at him.

No you're not. You just say you are to make yourself feel better.

Your words certainly have an effect. He stiffens, shakes his head, immediately begins to insist that's not true, that he really is sorry and that he really doesn't want to hurt you. He insists over and over. And the thought sticks with him, since he keeps trying to reassure you for days on end.

He seems so pitiful as he does that. Admittedly, even though you try not to, he's so very good at making you feel bad for him. You're the one kidnapped and held prisoner by this guy, yet somehow he manages to make you pity him so often. But that too starts to register differently the more you think about it.

Whether it's a conscious or subconscious behavior — likely the latter — that is the intent. He wants you to feel bad for him, and whether or not he realizes it — in fact, you're pretty sure he doesn't realize it, that it's just his nature and not a behavior he does consciously — deep down he's intentionally behaving as pitifully as he can. After all, if he's so meek and desperate to please that you can't help but feel bad for him, then you can't bring yourself to hate him, to be angry.

That, too, you finally one day bring up, on a day where you're in a particularly rough state of mind, having been drained of the fight you had left in you, melancholic and distant and tired. You're laying down, staring up at the ceiling while he's going on about some disagreement you've had, when he says it again, that he's sorry. You exhale a deep breath.

You turn your head towards him, too spiritually exhausted to summon any real anger, voice coming out flat and cold.

No. You want me to feel sorry for you so that you can do whatever you want, and I'll pity you too much to do anything about it.

Unlike your prior accusation of using it for self-soothing, this time, he doesn't immediately rush to defend himself. He just... freezes. He gets quiet. But his eyes are blown wide open, he stands there slack-jawed and still as several seconds pass by. As if your words aren't striking him as a jab at something he was aware of, but an expression of genuine shock, perhaps even realization.

It's quiet for a minute before he finally snaps out of the momentary stupor, shaking his head.

No, no, I just... I'm not...

And then he goes quiet again, looking down at the ground for a moment before taking a step back.

I need to... take a walk.

It's a quiet, uneasy voice you've never heard him use. He turns around and bolts out the door without a second of hesitation, lacking the usual five or so goodbyes he usually gives whenever he leaves. You're pretty sure you struck something he really doesn't want to think about... but in the end, given how he's such a slave to his urges, you doubt it will have much of an effect.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

He's very easily flustered and embarrassed even with topics of a normal and socially appropriate nature, so it only gets that much worse when it comes to anything that even most people would be embarrassed by. He blushes very easily, and it's very easily visible, which, along with general embarrassment, means he's developed a habit of covering his face with his hands whenever he feels embarrassment.

You'll have a somewhat difficult time even getting him to talk about anything of a sexual nature. If it's a joke or innuendo he'll awkwardly laugh it off, but if you actually try to have a serious conversation about it in some way, he goes red in the face, stammers and sputters and tries to give a one-word answer and switch to another topic.

Not that he doesn't have a sex drive or impure thoughts — he very much has both of those things, but as with his other behaviors, he's caught in between hesitancy and impulse, and for some time at least, his hesitancy and sense of moral wrong will keep him in check before that control breaks.

He hesitates for quite some time to touch you, even. He doesn't really keep a huge distance though, interestingly enough. As nervous as he is (and noting that he usually keeps physical space between himself and others), once he has you to himself, his self-control is just on the threshold of touch, where he can't stop himself from being in close proximity (even if it does make his heart race), but he's still too nervous to just reach an arm out and let your skin brush against his, to actually do something. So he stays close, provided you're actually being somewhat nice and non-hostile. It takes him a pretty long while to work up the nerve to actually touch, and if you're too cold and hostile towards him, it will delay it even further.

Once he has, though, he becomes very fond of touch. He likes to just wrap his arms around you and hold you close, can lay silently like that for quite some time. The more fond of it he becomes, though, the more sensitive to rejection of touch he gets, so after a while, if you keep swatting away his hands or jerking away from his touch, it will make him considerably more hurt than it did in the beginning.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Initially, he would be too nervous to really perform even if you were begging him for it, so even consensually that's not going to happen for a while. It takes time to get used to your presence right there, to come to terms with the fact that you're really here and he has you all to himself and it's not even a dream. That what was once so far away, always watched at a distance, is now right in front of him. He needs a while just to really process that and all the emotions that come with that realization.

Beyond that stage, though, as with his general behaviors, it's another issue of impulse.

Granted, he does manage to fight that one off for a long time, and will never bring himself to outright violate you, so it could be argued that he does, in fact, manage to summon some self-control on this one thing. It helps that he has a very "pure" view of you (regardless of your actual level of experience), and feels like he'd "defile" you by doing anything to you. He can ward off "bad" thoughts by instilling a reflexive sense of guilt the moment they emerge.

More importantly, he staves off any such thoughts the moment he considers what it would mean in regards to his own perception of himself. His set of values is borderline self-contradicting and somewhat amusing, where he somehow manages to rationalize everything else he's done, and doesn't see himself as a horrible person for the whole kidnapping and imprisonment thing, yet sexual violation is where he draws the line. He's not a terrible person or anything, but someone who does that definitely would be! He's repulsed by the concept of such individuals, so he could never bring himself to become one. He has a bit of a lack of self-awareness, wherein he believes that there's a world of difference between the two things, that his actions are just each a mild misdeed for complicated reasons, not a heinous crime like that would be.

Eventually, though, like everything else, it starts to slip. He starts bargaining with himself, running loops of logic to absolve himself of fault and diminish the perceived severity of a potential action. First he permits himself to have thoughts — it's just thoughts, it can't hurt you, you won't even know about it, so what's the harm done? By allowing himself to run through fantasies in his head, he'll get the urges out and lower the risk of making a rash choice of action, so it's actually a good thing.

It's only a matter of time before "thoughts" becomes actions. Sneaking a few glances as you shower or undress, letting his hands brush against you just enough to seem accidental, jerking off over you while you sleep, and eventually, it progresses to maybe giving you some medication to make you sleep a bit heavily, so you won't wake when he runs his hands over your body.

But it increasingly begins to feel like it's not enough. He hangs on this fine line balance where his sense of ethics and self creates a strong hesitation and wariness, like an automatic safety-trigger stop function on a piece of machinery, telling himself he can't do such a thing, while at the same time, the urge is so strong that once his inhibition is worn down, it comes out all at once like a broken dam.

But he still loves you, he still wants to respect you, he hates hates hates the thought of hurting you, so he uses whatever inhibition is left to refrain from actually doing something, and instead tells you. Asks you for help, even. Very openly and honestly.

I don't want to do something bad to you. But I can't... I feel like I'm going insane or something...

It's entirely truthful, but acting like it's just for your sake isn't entirely honest. Maybe, just maybe, it's partially with intention. Hoping you feel bad, hoping you take his request for help not in a way to help him stop, but to help him rid himself of the frustration and need. Maybe. And if you do, then it will all be okay. He's sure to emphasize that, if so.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Voyeurism/Somnophilia

These are included together because they serve the same general purpose: allowing him to alleviate his needs without feeling like he's actually committing some act of violation.

It can't hurt to look. Especially when you don't see him. Watching you change, watching you stretch, his eyes run up and down your body as his own begins to feel warm and fuzzy. He used to just glance and be done with it, but finds his eyes lingering longer and longer.

There's also the time he got home a bit early, came in through the back quietly enough that you didn't hear, just to be greeted by the sight of you panting and arching, hand between your legs, arm draped over your eyes, perfectly uncovered. It caught him so off-guard and put him in such a stunned state that he ended up standing there, mouth agape for several seconds processing it, only to quietly sneak back just enough to be able to duck out of sight if necessary, and to be able to hide his own lower half, working himself to watching you do the same. Thankfully you didn't notice him, and he was able to play it off as coming through the door just right after you were done. You probably thought it was perfect timing. And it was... just not for you.

Eventually, as his urges grow stronger, he takes to touching you in your sleep. In a way, it's actually quite nice because it's a calming and reassuring way to interact with your body, no worrying about it being too obvious that he has no idea what he's doing. No embarrassment over blatantly staring, even if it's harder to see in the dark. And even despite your sleep, he still gets an exhilarating rush every time you respond to the touches, when you twitch and make the softest sounds.

Mutual masturbation/instruction

It sort of ties into the former, but with you consciously aware of it. He couldn't exactly say why he has voyeuristic tendencies, but even when you're actively aware of his presence, watching can be just as pleasurable as actively participating. He likes touching you too, so he usually combines the two, so it's not purely voyeuristic per se, but combines the element nonetheless. Basically this means he wants to watch you touch yourself in some way, preferably while he does in another — have his fingers buried inside you while you play with your chest, or the inverse, letting him suck on your nipples while you rub at yourself.

But even if he's not actively doing something, he just really, really likes seeing you masturbate. It takes a while for that inclination to be exposed, because he's very shy about it, but eventually, especially if you're fully receptive and accepting of him, he'll muster up the courage to outright ask for it.

Just... I just want to watch...

Well, of course, he jerks himself off the whole time, but he is watching. It seems like it would be easy to you at first, but it actually turns out that the act is very vulnerable and embarrassing in practice, more so than just sex itself. There's something far more vulnerable about being laid exposed and actively being watched with such intense focus, very different from two active participants.

After a while, he gets confident enough to venture into another desire: he starts telling you what to do, gives instructions. Leans down and murmurs into your ear to touch yourself a certain way or in a certain spot, to arch your back, roll your hips forward against his hand. The only downside is it's very hard for him to not cum before you do.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Funnily enough, it's not that he goes out of his way to achieve this, nor has an "accident" by avoiding proper precautions, nor does he adamantly avoid it. Instead, he just sort of forgets. The possibility doesn't cross his mind, he's too absorbed in feelings of euphoria and excitement and so many intense emotions that his brain sort of skips over the whole, you know, purpose the physical process even exists for on a biological level.

Thus it's more or less inevitable. As you can imagine, his first reaction is intense worry. And to be fair, that's a very normal reaction for the majority of people, not just those prone to worry like he is. It's a pretty big deal, after all. He has far more things to worry about than the average guy in his situation, though. How is this going to work? Are you going to try to use the kid to get away from him? Turn them against him? It bothers him so much it starts to make him feel sick, he loses sleep, he's so distant and spacey that people ask if something is wrong with him. He doesn't really have a plan to counteract any of his fears, so... he just has to go forward and hope for the best. It becomes a constant source of anxiety for him.

On the bright side, he'd be a top-tier father, both with how invested he is in the child's life as well as how good he is at the actual practical aspect of caring for and supervising a kid. He's constantly trying to help with any little thing that he can, always wanting to take burdens off of you. He's particularly invested in the child's education, starts eagerly trying to teach them how to read and write and the like from a young age. The only downside is that he's very paranoid and constantly worried, making up these worst-case scenarios in his head, to the point that you have to reassure him that certain things are normal and not an issue, or that it's okay that the kid has not made a sound in the last 20 seconds, that not every single cough or sneeze means something is horribly wrong, so on and so on.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

If he gets desperate enough, if you're being repetitively disagreeable and hostile to him, the only thing he can think of is to make you need him. This goes hand-in-hand with his usual means of sensory and contact deprivation, but this time, he does it with orgasms. You'll get frustrated eventually, right? Even if you're not someone who has a particularly high drive, you'll inevitably become needy. At least, it's the best thing he can think of.

He's still apologetic and all, the whole time he forces your arms and legs apart, tying each ankle and wrist to a different bed corner. It never ceases to be borderline humorous, were you an onlooker and not the victim, how he will just apologize and apologize yet not waver in his actions for a single second...

This situation has the added perk of the fact that he gets to sit you upright and feed you, give you water. It's very sweet and intimate... at least, he thinks so, although you don't seem particularly happy about it. He still makes sure to leave you with little to occupy your time with, hoping that it will add to the desperation. You don't initially understand what he's after, but it becomes more evident when, after a day or so, he decides it's necessary to take some additional steps to expedite the process. Works his way between your legs and gets you wound up and frustrated with his fingers and tongue, pulling you so, so close, only to pull back at the last second, murmur something about how it's for your own good, and give you a kiss to your forehead before abruptly getting up and going off again. You quickly become irritated, kicking your feet against the restraints and snapping at him, saying a few mean words before relaxing your body with a huff.

With any luck, you'll hopefully have a very short tolerance for this torment... that's his hope, at least. He really wants you to just give in and love him and let him help you, and preferably be nice to him, that's all. And really, it's in your best interest to do so too, lest he start to slowly awaken to a realization that a part of him rather likes you tied and struggling like that... frankly, that's a metaphorical slumbering beast you do not want to wake.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your thighs and legs. No particularly specific reason that he's aware of, just the natural and innate sexual attraction to the other's sensual characteristics. He likes the softness and the warmth of your skin, the way your legs feel wrapped around his waist, the shape and curvature of your hips to your thighs and the back of your calves, the way running his eyes up and down your figure makes him feel all hot and tense and excited. Most of all, he especially likes laying his head on your lap, listening to you talk about anything and everything.

You can also use this to your advantage — come up to him when he's sitting down, sit beside him and swing your legs to rest over his lap and his brain will undergo a shutdown right there on the spot. It's rather cute.

#yandere genshin impact

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shortstrawberry · 9 months

Note

Professor Donna and a stabby Mia in a tense stand off over MC

Okay, lessgooo

TW: mild violence

You were looking lost in a small corner at the college library, searching for a Botany book for your next test. Ideally, this would have never even been required as Donna usually lends you her books all the time.

But your girlfriend is right now in her Professor mode, buried neck deep in grading. It's the exam time, and that means your girlfriend is most time either invigilating the exams or is checking papers.

You sighed, keeping another book back at the shelf. You understand your girlfriend has responsibilities, of course. But it's just been a couple of months since you two started to seriously date. So to have your time cut short so soon has you a little miffed.

It also doesn't help that last time you nagged Donna to get some break, she became a little...snappy at you.

I am busy! I have responsibilities !I cannot be with you all the time!

Those words spoken in Donna's harsh voice made you flinch. You had wanted to retort that no, you just want the overburdened professor to have a break! It's okay if she doesn't spend time with you! But no, instead you just stupidly nodded your head, and left her.

And here you are hiding away in library. Donna has called you thrice by now, probably to apologise, but you just don't want to talk to her right now.

You'll probably end up crying.

Before you can start sniffling at your pathetic state, you heard a rustle behind you. You turn around, and there stood Mia Winters, the local sorority head and treasurer of the student council. And she was leering down at you with murder in her eyes.

You gulped, stepping back. Something doesn't feel right.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

Mia only sighed at you in what looks like pity.

"I wish it didn't have to come to this. Why can't you make the correct choice for once?"

You have absolutely no idea what she's saying. But you get this deja vu feeling, as if this has happened before.

"I have no idea who you are, but I do feel like saying that the correct choice is not necessarily the right choice."

That seems to be the wrong thing to say, because Mia, no kidding, took a knife out and waved at you.

"And this is exactly why this keeps happening, every single time. You always choose her."

Before you could ask who, or run away for that matter, Mia lunged for you. You let out a loud scream, ducking down in hopes it will somehow save you.

But the knife never came for you. Instead there was a loud crash, as if someone was shoved against the library shelf. You heard the books clattering down on floor.

You opened your eyes slowly, and saw a very angry Botany professor holding Mia against the library shelf in a chokehold.

"You fucking bitch. Ti ucciderò una volta per tutte!"

If you thought this morning Donna was angry, this Donna was downright furious. Her pale was was twisted in a murderous rage, just seconds away from killing Mia.

Shit, you have to do something. You cannot have your girlfriend be jailed for murder of a student! Even if she's just defending you!

You hurriedly got up, then slowly approached Donna, who was now tightening her squeeze on Mia's neck.

"Donna, let her go. She's not worth it."

Donna in response squeezed harder, making Mia kick and thrash against her.

"Oh no, cara mia. She tried to kill you! Take you away from me!"

You have a feeling that Donna knows more then she is letting you on. That somehow this has happened before. But you let it go for now.

You place a soft hand on your girlfriend's tense shoulder, trying again.

"Please. If you do this, you'll be taken away from me. People will accuse you, babe. Let her go! I promise, we'll sort it out later!"

Those words seems to get to her, as Donna blinked a few times to get her bearings back. Then with a frustrated cry, she threw Mia down on the floor, with a spitting warning.

"Consider yourself lucky that my girl is so compassionate. Even though you don't deserve a single ounce of it!"

For a moment, just for a moment, guilt flashed on Mia's eyes. But it was soon take over by fear, as she scarmbled away from the scene.

That just leaves the two of you, alone.

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heartsoji · 2 years

Text

meeting and falling in love with sugawara koshi.

strangers → friends → lovers suga x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: not proofread sorry it was too long and i didn't feel like it

a/n: i might make a "dating sugawara koshi" for this! i'll link it if/once i do ^^

suga had always felt like the guy who was so close, yet so far.

you both kind of knew each other because you both went to karasuno and you were kiyoko’s younger sister.

you knew him, and he knew you. however, you had only ever briefly said hi a couple of times, and you had stopped by the gym a few times to give your sister a lunch, a message, or to take her home. he was nothing more than an acquaintance. and due to the fact that he was a year older than you, you assumed that he probably viewed you as shimizu’s little kid sister, which honestly, he did at first.

one day, however, he came over to your house along with daichi-san and asahi-san to study with kiyoko.

he came way too early, (like way too early even for him) so both daichi and asahi weren't there, and your sister was out running errands because she hadn't anticipated that he'd be so early, so she wasn't there either. when he came, you were in the middle of a destress-cooking-sesh (that's what i call them bc i have little cooking sessions to destress)

you couldn't really let one of your sister's closest friends stand outside your house, so you let him, served him some tea, and got back to cooking.

since there wasn't much to do, he just watched you cook while the two of you made small talk.

he was amazed at the skill, precision, and passion that went into the food that you made.

you let him have it because you didn't really want any, you just wanted to cook.

mans was blown away.

it was possibly one of the best things he had ever eaten.

something about the food brought the two of you together, and the room became instantly less awkward. the more he learned about you, the more he realized that you weren't actually a little kid. sure, you were in nishinoya's year, but you had a summer birthday and you were actually the same age as him. plus, despite you in the year below and him being pretty smart, you two somehow were taking some classes of the same level. the more he talked with you, the more he realized that you weren't as little as he initially thought.

the two of you began noticing each other more and more in the hallways. you had always gone the same path to your classes, but the two of you were for some reason only now noticing that you took the same path.

the two of you began to talk more and more, gradually learning more about each other's interests and personality traits.

suga was kind. he was sweet, understanding, compassionate, and had a dorky sense of humor. he was gentle, soothing, caring, and had a very high EQ.

you began visiting the volleyball practices more often, both to support your sister, but also because getting closer to suga made your curiosity in the volleyball club grow.

maybe suga hadn't realized it because he had known you since you were in middle school, but you were gorgeous. i mean, you and kiyoko share the shimizu bloodline, how could you not be absolutely stunning? but perhaps it took tanaka and nishinoya pointing out in a very loud and straightforward manner that you were indeed beautiful was what made him realize it.

you often brought homemade food for you and your sister when you went to the gym to watch, and suga found your lunches so intriguing. your food was thoughtful, smart, complex, and delicious. you would keep in mind kiyoko's preferences, what would and wouldn't be good in a packed bento, and how you could find new flavors with spices, ingredients, and techniques.

when you offered him a bite for the first time, he happily accepted and was in awe of how delicious it was. the first time he ate one of your bentos consisted of odeng, kimchi, oi muchim, kongnamul muchim, hobak bokkeum, mu saengchae, and myeolchi bokkeum, (these r some of my fav korean banchans if ur wondering! im korean btw) an onigiri with a smoked spicy anchovy filling, and extra spicy mapo tofu made with a homemade vegan meat. you offered him some because you got carried away and made too much, but you hadn't expected his reaction.

you hadn't expected his eyes to light up the way they did when he tried your mapo tofu. you hadn't expected him to comment on the flavors of each banchan you made and for him to tell you why he liked that one in particular. you hadn't expected him to be in such awe at the flavors and textures in the onigiri. you hadn't expected his enthusiastic and animated reactions. you hadn't expected him to be so cute.

wait. cute?

from then on, you began bringing extra accidentally on purpose so that you could give some to him while tanaka and nishinoya whined in the back about how it wasn't fair that he got to eat the food made by a goddess. he caught on quickly and began accidentally on purpose forgetting to bring a quick snack to fuel him through practice. it was the kind of thing that the two of you never mentioned you were doing, but you both knew you were doing it.

before you knew it, you and suga were hanging out outside of school. you had a sleepover with him once when you stayed over at his house too late. you were constantly meeting up to hang out, study, or just be in each other's presence. he comforted you at your lowest moments, and you did the same for him. when you were on the verge of tears and all alone, you would facetime suga and cry on camera with him. when exams were stressing you out and you were neglecting your health, suga would pull you apart from your studies and into the biggest hug. when suga was feeling doubtful of his volleyball skill, you would reassure him that despite him not being a genius setter like that kageyama guy, he had things that made him special and set him apart. (no pun intended im sorry) when suga felt incompetent and unimportant, you reminded him that humans are living imperfections, and that he was only human, and doing great. (your food also helped the situation) suga had quickly become your best friend.

and it wasn't until one day when your friend asked, "so, shimizu-chan, what's up with you and that third-year on the volleyball team? are the two of you, like, secretly dating or something?" that it hit you.

you had the fattest crush on sugawara koshi.

at first, you didn't know what to do with this newfound information. with yourself.

you began overanalyzing every interaction the two of you shared.

every conversation, every touch, every text.

you began noticing every detail about him.

his pretty brown eyes.

his fluffy grayish hair.

his gentle smile.

his mole under his left eye.

the way his eyes lit up when he ate your food, or when you two were talking about something really interesting or funny.

the way he let out a soft, breathy laughs whenever he found something hilarious.

the way he studied so diligently and somehow wordlessly inspired you to do the same.

suga liked disney songs. when you two studied together, you would listen to disney tracks. it helped him focus, and the two of you would occasionally take healthy dance breaks whenever the best song ever came on.

suga danced and laughed when he got nervous or felt embarrassed. it was his way of shaking it off and coping.

suga liked ballroom dancing with you for no reason. he would wordlessly turn on an elegant ballroom type song and he would sweep you up with his hands above your hips and your arms around his neck. (he got consent the first time) it didn't matter before, but now that you had realized you had a crush on him, it made you feel slightly giddy.

suga taught you how to pepper (if you don't know what that is, it's when two people pass-set-hit to each other! im a competitive elite vb player if ur wondering :) also i started playing vb before i watched haikyuu. idc if u don't care bc im just saying that i liked vb before it became popular and it's a point of pride hehe) so that the two of you could pepper together.

suga was really happy when you told him you wanted to learn how to play volleyball. he taught you the basics with patience and kindness, and it made him so happy that you, a person that he held very dear to his heart, wanted to learn about the sport that he held very dear to his heart.

suga cried easily. he had a big heart that was broken easier than most people thought. he was good at putting up a strong front for others, but he was just as soft as asahi when it came to certain things on the inside.

you loved suga.

you couldn't deny it, or try to erase your feelings at this point, because you were very aware that you were in love with sugawara koshi.

and you know what? you were fine with that. you felt confident that he didn't like you back, which was sad at first, but you got used to it. you loved suga as a friend too. all you had to do was not take the crush too far, and make sure he felt comfortable. you were perfectly happy to stay the way the two of you were and remain status quo.

until you weren't.

it upset you that every time suga did something cute or attractive, you couldn't just kiss him and embrace him and tell him he was adorable.

it upset you seeing your friends happily in love while you had to suppress your feelings just so that you wouldn't lose him as a friend.

it upset you that you were feeling such emotions when you had promised yourself that you wouldn't take this crush too far.

it upset you. this whole situation upset you. however, you didn't have the courage to confess to him, so you would have to be content with your current situation.

until one day..

"what?" it took you a moment to process what suga had just said.

"i.. really like you, shimizu y/n."

you froze. you didn't know what to say. it hadn't felt out of the ordinary when suga texted you to come outside to that special spot behind the trees for lunch. you had expected the two of you to eat lunch as per usual, but that was not the case. instead, you were greeted by a red-eared sugawara koshi with a bouquet of flowers and chocolate covered strawberries confessing his love to you.

" you are beautiful, smart, kind, funny, sweet, and the best girl i have ever met. you're my best friend, and i'm so glad that you share shimi- uh, kiyoko..?'s blood, because i don't think i would have met you otherwise."

his face and ears were a bright tomato red.

"so, uh- if you don't feel the same way thats totally cool and i respect that, but i just felt like i nee-"

you enveloped suga in the biggest hug and gently whispered, "i like you too," in his ear.

you didn't know that it was physically possible for ears to get any more red, but they did. he teared up a little and hugged you back. tight. life felt crazy at that moment. he had finally won the girl of his dreams. he needed to hug her tight just in case this was a wonderful dream, and she would disappear if he let go. so he did. held you tight as tears fell from his face in bliss. he knew that this moment would be the start of a beautiful adventure.

and it was.

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒, 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

#sugawara x reader #suga x reader #haikyuu suga x reader #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koshi #hq sugawara #hq suga #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #suga imagine #suga fluff #sugawara fluff #haikyuu sugawara fluff #haikyuu suga fluff #sugawara x y/n

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kathrahender · 25 days

Text

This is the actual fic, the other post was the background story to understand this better. This is the second part (2/2), if you want to read the first part (1/2), read the previous post.

Eventually, Tom Kazanky and Pete Mitchell met in Top Gun, but they were a little more hostile towards each other. After all, Tom always saw Konstantin's hurt expression when people mentioned Duke Mitchell, and Pete always saw the pain and betrayal in Duke's eyes when he heard the name "Konstantin Kazansky". Iceman and Maverick's rivalry was similar to the movie, except that the hate they felt for each other was more obvious than in the movie. Their jokes actually meant to hurt the other, and every time they criticized the other, they were meaner than in the canon.

But- like in every Top Gun AU, Iceman became more compassionate after Goose's death, and although Iceman didn't like Mitchell's family, seeing how damaged Maverick was made him realize that he was hating Maverick for the wrong reasons. It wasn't because he was a bad pilot, it was because Duke was his father, and he couldn't stand that. But the pain in his eyes made him think Maverick didn't deserve to pay for Duke's bad actions. That's why he stood by his side. First he was just a teammate who supported him, but after Layton's mission, they became wingmen. The same year they decided to teach at Top Gun together, and they became more than allies or wingmen. They became friends.

At some moment, Maverick realize Iceman made him feel things he didn't feel with his past girlfriends, not even Penny or Charlie. When he saw Iceman at Top Gun, he couldn't help but smile. When Iceman smiled at him during a lesson, it warmed his heart. When some days Iceman decided to stay at his home, and he woke up screaming and crying in his bed, Iceman held him and it made him feel safe. Iceman was always there for him. To help him. To protect him. To catch him when he fell apart. Every time, Tom was there, saying with and without words "I'm here, I'm not going to leave you". So it wasn't a surprise when he realized he liked Iceman (or even loved because his feelings towards him were so intense).

Maverick repressed his feelings, because after all that happened between them, after all the rivalry, after Goose's death, and after Iceman supported him when he needed more help, he wouldn't bear losing him. He knew Iceman was straight, and if he told him he felt something for him, he would leave him, like everyone else (except his father). And he already lost his mother, Goose, Carole and Bradley. He couldn't lose Iceman too. What he didn't expect was how hard it would be to hold back his feelings. A lot of times he avoided Iceman, pretending he was busy with Top Gun's work, because he didn't want him to know the truth. How could he look at his face and say "I like you"? Iceman was his wingman and his friend, but nothing assured him that Iceman wouldn't leave him if he found out he was in love with a guy. Much less if he himself was that guy.

One day, in the afternoon, Iceman knocked at the door of his house, and although Maverick wanted to tell him to get out, he let him in. They stood silent for a moment, and Maverick expected Iceman yelling at him or being angry for ignoring him, but he didn't do that. He talked to him nicely, with a soft tone, like always. And he could deal with Iceman being angry, but Ice was there, looking at him with concern and pain, not forcing him to say anything, holding his arm or wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He got up to stay away from him, trying to hold back his emotions, because he couldn't bear it. It was Iceman's hand in his shoulder and him saying "I'm here for you, Mav, for anything" what broke him. He almost fell to the ground, nearly having a panic attack, but like always, Iceman was there to catch him, to comfort him. Maverick clung to him, as if he was a lifeline. He knew it was probably the last time Iceman would hug him, and he knew Iceman would abandon him, but during that moment, he imagined Iceman staying with him, he imagined he wouldn't be shattered in pieces after Tom left him.

After a few minutes, he slightly got away from Iceman, keeping his hands in his waist, while Iceman was holding his face in his hands, wiping away the tears. "What's happening, Pete?". Maverick closed his eyes, and he muttured, trembling. "I love you". Iceman got paralyzed, and Maverick felt tears in his eyes again "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ice" he said. Before he could see Iceman looking at him with anger, hate or disgust, he went to his bedroom, but Iceman stopped him, hugging him from behind. "You idiot. You don't have to be sorry. You're not mentally ill and you're not disgusting, Maverick" he held him tighter, and when he heard the following Iceman's words, he sobbed. "I'm your wingman, Pete, I will never leave you. And I will always be here for you. I love you too, Mav"

After that, and even after knowing their life would be hard, they decided to be together. They only lived once, and they wouldn't be cowards and let go of each other. Although they would have to hide from the society, and act like friends in front of everyone, their life would be harder if they weren't dating.

Years later, when people knew the truth about Duke's "betrayal", and when the Navy finally allowed them to date people of their same gender, Iceman and Maverick could finally have their happy ending, and Duke and Konstantin couldn't be more happy for them, because their sons were enough strong and brave to fight for their love, and they succeeded.

Additional information about the fic.

Duke is still considered a traitor because Pete needs to be the same Maverick he was in the movie, and that can only happen if the name "Mitchell" still means "problems" and he is not accepted in Annapolis. He's seen as "the son of a traitor", that's why Goose is his only friend here too.

In this AU, Maverick's mother still dies (when he's... 10 years old more or less), so Pete is raised by his father. Almost the same thing happens to Iceman, because her mother also died when he was a kid.

Iceman doesn't have siblings. Sarah is one of his friends, but she isn't his biological sister.

When talking about people leaving Maverick, he mentioned Carole and Bradley because he is convinced they left him and not the place that reminded them of Goose (after Goose's death, Carole decided to move to another city because she couldn't bear being in Miramar without Goose. She didn't do that because she blamed Maverick for Goose's death and wanted to stay away from him)

With them having a happy ending, I mean them having a happy ending. So I'm just ggnna pretend that Top Gun Maverick's scene didn't happen.

#top gun #top gun 1986 #icemav #iceman x maverick #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #iceman kazansky #top gun iceman #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #maverick mitchell #top gun maverick

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003soy · 5 months

Text

Kat’s Character Overanalysis of Murasaki

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

The content below may exhibit multiple instances of confirmation bias due to over a year of brain rotting.

Do not proceed if you dislike excessive analysis of characters that only appear in official tweets and random merchandise.

I treat this guy like an oc so don’t be mean to me ok 💔 just my headcanons and personal observations!!!

Viewer discretion is advised…

Ok so I'm going to start with the basic stuff (i.e. inkipedia)

From 2015-2018(?) Murasaki was the drummer for the band Squid Squad. He was the youngest member of the group.

While this excerpt from Inkipedia may seem small, there are a lot of traits described here that can be further analyzed (if you have nothing better to do)

The Squid Research Lab describes him as rough around the edges.

The term "rough around the edges" is used to describe something that has small imperfections, but is generally good. When describing a person it can mean someone who is unsophisticated or impolite. In this instance, "rough around the edges" could be describing Murasaki's drumming skills as he's said to have potential, but he also needs some practice.

this characterization was probably made to resemble his appearance as well! (sea urchins don't have very smooth edges...)

2. Murasaki is referred to as a wild child.

A "wild child" is usually someone (likely a young person) who is headstrong, rebellious, and/or uncontrollable. To me, this info matches nicely with the impolite interpretation of the phrase "rough around the edges."

3. From here, it sort of goes on about his playing which I sort of addressed in the first point. Basically, he has a natural gift in drumming because he has a good sense of rhythm, and despite lacking in technique, he always tries his best.

4. He is prone to crying

The Squid Research Lab states that he could be caught crying during a drum solo which goes to show how much effort he puts into his playing :). I feel like this part tends to override his other traits in fan stuff (if he gets included at all). I personally view this as a subversive aspect of his personality. Normally he has an abrasive personality because of the rebelliousness and lack of manners, but he is also a sentimental person and his emotions are expressed through tears even if he isn’t sad (samee). Think of how urchins have a spiky hard external shell that hides soft uni inside of it ok...

5. Energetic

I know the energy think is probably referring to his playing style, but I picture him to be a fidgety person who doesn't like to stand still. I guess it matches with the wild child thing.

6. He's the youngest

Expains the previous behavior. rude + rebellious + more talent than practice. teenager.

Moving onto other sources! Bye Inkipedia...

Here is the original japanese text of the Squid Research Lab info on twitter. Yes, I know google translate isn't that accurate, but I think it's interesting and deepl says something similar as well.

7. Ignoring the strange grammar, Murasaki is additionally described as mischievous (やんちゃ?). Definition: playful in a naughty or teasing way or troublesome/irritating.

I guess this was translated into the wild child in the english version because I'm assuming the term in japanese refers to more childish behavior. I think the word mischievous is easier to understand though since I've never heard the term wild child before. Anyway, he's silly.

8. I sort of glossed over this in the english version but apparently he can take the lead when it matters most. In english, the phrasing kinda made this confusing. I thought they were just saying words lol. Anyway, this ties in with him trying his best while in the band + being compassionate/sentimental.

topic-adjacent kinda. I've seen people interpret this in a sort of sad way, but I interpret this as him being mischievous! I think he's walking towards them to scare them. The little star next to his head reminds me of the animal crossing mischief emote.

another bonus thing because it shows that hes silly. a silly goose. I think he likes to doodle.

God I haven't even gotten to the splatune articles yet...

yeah this kinda repeats what I already said but here it says his playing fits well with Ichiya. I think that both of them are kinda similar. Both are sort of lacking in technique but make up for it in other areas. Both have ADHD (lying). To me, Murasaki is if an asshole turned out to be kind, and Ichiya is if a kind person turned out to be an asshole. #crazy

Splatune 1! No more numbered list I forgot what number I was on :)

Cool and edgy urchin

I have no idea what that means. Ok.

Cool means cool.

I don’t know if they mean edgy in the internet way because ???... Anyway, edgy can mean: 1. tense, nervous, or irritable, 2. trend setting, daring, or provocative. I think the word choice was for the sake of an urchin pun.

I think they meant to convey the second definition by saying hes cool and unconventional (I don't think it makes sense to say someone is cool and nervous in the same sentence). Kind of matches with being rough around the edges. I like to apply the first definition sometimes though. I like to stress him out.

he boldly pushes up to the front like a blaster

information about his drum playing is information about his personality! this relates to his previously described energetic playing. I like how this sort of frames him as unusual compared to other drummers. It shows how his playing style relates to his character... energetic, headstrong, he can lead the way if necessary. all things previously stated.

mean to him :(

I think this is trying to say how the others keep him around even though he doesn't match the theme. They keep him around because he looks cool? (this information is probably useless because machine translator. grain of salt)

very brief splatune 3 cameo

can drink in bars now? (old...)

likes to talk in circles (old...)

looks depressed now. aware of the horrors... evil leg bouncer...

thats it for official stuff i think. I like to add on bonus traits to him during the front roe era, but yeag ✌️

#what a cute character design does to a mf #splatbands #splatband #splatoon bands #splatoon #squid squad #front roe #murasaki splatoon #003soy #003soss #my headcanons #idk #sorry for typos

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kikiwooo · 1 year

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Imagine being siblings with Guinevere and Lancelot, running away after their siblings ran away and kinda having to live as a wanderer and we're honestly having fun, then boom we meet the 4saken light.

If it's a older sibling reader I can see them treating Melissa,Yin and Julian as their siblings and being kinda like a parent to them and Xavier is falling hard for us, cue to the kids setting them up.

If it's a younger sibling reader- Julian, Melissa and Yin has a crush on them because reader is so nice,compassionate and smart. It's a love square. Xavier has to deal with these lovesick teenagers + a oblivious one.

Guin and Lance are both protective in both versions

Older! Reader would be the shield between their little siblings Lancelot and Guinevere. Lancelot comes sprinting to Older! Readers side and slides onto their lap to cover himself from Guinevere seeing him. Older! Reader would just chuckle and use the book that they had been reading and blocks Lancelot from Guinevere who just came to the room and looks around to his brother.

Older! Reader would be devastated after the lose of their siblings and just lives the life of a wanderer. Older! Reader uses a different name to cover their family name but their godly face and hair is just gives everything away. Meeting the 4saken light was pure coincidence, Yin was the first one you met after helping him out from the trouble he got himself into it and in return he invites you to join the 4saken light.

Older! Reader would be so skilled in every weapon and hand to hand combat, Yin and Melissa would pester the reader to teach them and Julian is just silently standing there with his eyes shining hoping you would accept their offer. Xavier is just on the side shaking his head in disappointment and quietly offers you that he could take the kids them away if they bother you but you just shake your head smile which makes the corner of his lip tug up to a small smile.

cue Xavier finding it so hard to confess his love to you which catches Melissa's eye, she tells others to set you two up with a perfect plan. Yin giving you a really stupid and obvious reason to leave you alone with Xavier, Julian is beside Yin and quietly nodding at every of his words even if they're full on stupid. You find the light elf leaning against to tree with a ligh blush covering his cheeks and probably thinking about you.

Younger! Reader being the diamond of the house and having everyone looking at them with awe. Lancelot and Guinevere being always by your side and constantly praising you whilst throwing silent glares to those who dares to come near you. Lancelot even daring to point his sword at anyone he sees looking at you with malicious intend, Guinevere..she has never been so scary before.

Younger!Reader just couldn't be able to take anymore and running away from everything and starting to live as a wanderer. Being young didn't put you into a disadvantage at learning magic instead you improved it even more, making your magic much more stronger than those who at your age. Mainly it was Guinevere who helped you with magic, Lancelot would often steal you away from magic lessons to taught you the way of the sword.

It was Melissa who set her eyes on you first, instantly falling in love with you too. Just, just a small crush. After making a tiny chat and getting to know eachother Melissa offers you to join 4saken light which you accept.

Younger!Reader being slightly insecure to meet the rest of the group because they never really got the chance to social with other people because of their protective siblings. Yin was so easy to get along with, he has so many things to talk about and is warm-blooded. Julian however wanted to observe you first, it would be a lie if he said that you didn't interested him. Xavier was welcoming, even told Julian to not scare you too much.

Yin's crush on you is pretty obvious as he is always trying to strike a conversation with you and blushes like a strawberry at any physical contact with you. Julian is..silent as usual but he suddenly talked a bit more when alone with you. He was already protective over his friends but when it came to you he's suddenly acting a bit more aggressive whilst protecting you. Melissa's puppets are always accompanying you, she even made you yours, isn't she's so thoughtful <3 ? Above the others she lives physical contact and is always hanging on your shoulders, draping herself onto you. Xavier is... honestly tired seeing them so lovesick. There was one time where Xavier found all you four sleeping whilst leaning onto eachother. Yin on your left, Julian on the right, you between them and Melissa leaning onto your chest.

#[ x.brainrot ] !#mlbb x reader #mlbb #mobile legends #mobile legends bang bang #mobile legends bang bang x reader #mobile legends x reader #gn reader #x reader #yin #julian #xavier #yin x reader #melissa #melissa x reader #julian x reader #xavier x reader

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avatar-anna · 2 years

Note

Hey I've had a rly rly bad day :( I'm about to breakdown down n trying to do things to distract myself.. would you mind writing a little fluffy blurb about h comforting reader ??? You don't hve to if you're busy :))

hey! i'm sorry you're having a bad day. here is the fluffiest blurb (w a little bit of angst bc reader has to be crying for some reason) enjoy! 💕💕💕

You never knew how little you put yourself first until today.

All your life you considered yourself a compassionate person. Reliable. Dependable. Someone friends and family could count on. And you liked being that person, you liked that you had a prominent role in the lives of the people you loved and cared for most.

And if carried over into your work life too. You were constantly working overtime, saying yes to projects that your boss or co-workers prefaced with, “I knew just the person to come to for this!” And that made you feel valued. Important.

Until today.

You were already behind on a project because one of your co-workers asked you for help with theirs, and without asking why, you agreed as usual. But your own was already kind of kicking your ass and you had a million other things going on outside of work that needed your attention. You really weren’t sure why you couldn’t say no this time. You had valid reasons, yet you still tacked on more work, more stress (and not more pay, either).

“Hey, Y/n, how we doing in here?” your boss said, knocking on the open door of your office.

“A little stressed, but what else is knew?” you said with a smile. It was your normal response, but this time there was a little edge to it you hadn’t expected.

Not even noticing, your boss moved on. “Good, good. I was wondering if I could ask a favor? Our partner office from Hong Kong is coming next week, and I thought who better to show them around than our hardest worker bee?”

He said it with a smile, like it was an honor to be asked such a thing, but all you could say in reply was, “Both of my projects are due next week.”

With a quick look around the room, you saw that you were one of the last ones in the big office space. Either your co-workers took their work home or didn’t have as much to do as you did, and for the first time, that irked you. Why couldn’t your boss ask any of them when you were clearly drowning in meetings and phone calls and spreadsheets and ten minute lunches?

“I know you’ll make it work,” he said, as if he hardly even heard your response. “So you’ll do it?”

“I...”

Tears sprung out of nowhere, perhaps the stress of a task you hadn’t even accepted already weighing down on you. There would be no time, no time for yourself, or anything or anyone other than work.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally said, hoping that your boss would ask someone else in the meantime.

“Well, I kind of need an answer now—”

“Then no, my answer is no,” you blurted, standing up from your desk to pack your things. “Not only can I not do it, I don’t want to do it. You have so many people that work here that could do this for you, and even though you knew I was up to my ears in work, you asked me anyway. So no. I will not be able to help you next week.”

Your boss floundered a bit. At your outburst, or that you said no, you weren’t sure. He probably hadn’t thought to ask anyone else, had just expected you to say yes. And that once would’ve made you proud, but now you absolutely despised that.

“Well, I mean, this might affect your promotion,” he said, a last stitch effort to get you to say yes.

Could he really not see you were on the verge of tears? Or that you were in the same clothes as yesterday because you fell asleep in your office last night? Or did he just not care?

That promotion was dangled over every project, every favor, every little thing you did at work. It was the reason you did so much. You worked hard, and you wanted a paycheck that validated that. But if your boss took one refusal as a reason for you to not get a promotion, when so many of your co-workers turned things down left and right, then...

“Fuck your promotion,” you said before you could filter your words, then hastily left your office, not bothering to look your boss in the eye.

Tears wanted to fall as you rode the elevator, as you got behind the wheel of your car, but you swallowed them down, pushing them away for later.

A minute into driving, your phone rang, your cousin’s name popping up on the screen on your car’s dash.

“Hey! How’s it going?”

You didn’t have it in you to be chipper. “I think I just lost my job.”

“Oh...Well that’s—Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug.

“Great! Well, I was just calling to ask if you and H have locked down a date for the wedding,” your cousin asked.

With a raised brow, you said, “We sent out save the dates three weeks ago.”

“Right, but my wife and I booked a cruise before you and Harry even got engaged, and our flight to get to port is on the same day as the wedding. You see where I’m going with this, right?”

You did, but you were so furious that you said, “I don’t, actually.” You needed him to say it, to admit what he was asking for.

“Well, you know, since we booked this cruise before you and H got engaged, we were wondering if you could change the date. Move it up or something.”

“Or something,” you said, voice completely devoid of emotion. What would that even mean?

Did you really accommodate so much that a family member was asking to move your literal wedding day for them? Did people really expect you to bend over backwards like that?

The answer was yes. You put so many people first, that you’d become the default, friends, families, co-workers were practically on autopilot when asking for favors, you doubted they even tried to come up with solutions themselves at this point.

“So tou’ll do it?”

You were surprised when you started laughing. Not a giggle, but a full-bellied laugh. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the ludicrous favor your cousin just asked you, or maybe you’d finally snapped. Your cousin was still on the other line waiting. Because despite what clearly was a nervous breakdown, he was still expecting you to do this for him.

“Shove it up your ass and don’t bother coming to the wedding,” you said when your laughter subsided, then promptly hung up the phone.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry was on the couch when you got home, watching one of his crime shows he loved so much. He smiled when he saw you, the reaction almost involuntary, but it faltered when he got a better look.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, turning the TV off and coming over to you.

“Bad day. Really bad day,” was all you said, voice empty.

“I’m sorry, lovie. Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, and Harry took that as his cue to pull you in for a hug. He was much taller than you were, so you were completely engulfed in his soft sweater and the fresh scent of his cologne. You sighed, your shoulders sagging as he squeezed you, as if he was trying to wring all the stress and sadness out of you.

After a couple minutes, Harry let go, but only to look down at you. “So I’m thinking that as your fiance, I need to make you feel better.”

“Yeah?” you said, a small smile forming on your face. Harry seemed to be the only one who put you first, or realized when you needed a break.

“Yeah, which is great because I bought stuff at the store to make that dish you really love. The one with chicken and the red sauce? I just need a little help with—”

“You need help?” you asked, smile immediately turning into a frown. “Like a favor?”

Confused, Harry said, “Well, it’s not really a favor, I just need—”

“And I just need people to stop needing me! Why can’t anyone understand that? I give, and I give, and I give, and I never ask for anything in return, so people keep expecting me to give. Well, I have nothing to give anymore. I‘m—I’m...”

You pulled away from your fiance and stormed upstairs, locking yourself in the bathroom the two of you shared. Your were breathing as if you’d just run a marathon, unable to get a sob out before the next one came over you. Tears were hot on your cheeks, and you knew if you looked in the mirror your face would be an angry shade of red. Sliding down to the cool tile floor, you curled in on yourself and just cried.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting like that, how long you stormed away from Harry. If you had the ability to think rationally for a moment, you would’ve realized that he wasn’t trying to use you or take advantage of your kindness. He didn’t even know that asking for help would’ve triggered you like this (you didn’t either, to be fair). But he just happened to be the person you blew up at, and while it wasn’t fair, you couldn’t exactly take it back.

Not that you could, at the moment. You couldn’t stop crying. No matter how much you tried to steady your breathing, or how much you thought you got out of your system, you just kept crying. So much so that you didn’t even hear Harry knock on the door the first time.

“Lovie? Can you unlock the door? Please?”

You didn’t answer, hoping that would be answer enough.

But he persisted. “I hate hearing you cry all by yourself. Will you please let me in? Let me help you, lovie.”

The sobbing stilled for just a moment, long enough to stand up and unlock the door for Harry. He opened it immediately, but you didn’t see his face before he pulled you against him again.

You didn’t know how long you stood there like that, how long you cried in Harry’s arms while he smoothed his hand down your hair soothingly and kissed the top of your head, waiting patiently until you let it all out. When you finally did, he wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. You didn’t know what to say or what to do. You knew you had to do something, explain, apologize, change out of day-old clothes, something, but Harry thankfully spoke first.

“I think you need a long, hot shower.”

While you got undressed, Harry turned the water on and made sure it was the right temperature. You thought he would leave after that, but he began shedding his clothes too. You wanted to ask what he was up to, but you couldn’t find the words.

He led you to the shower and stepped in behind you. Once you were under the stream of hot water, he leaned down to kiss you, his fingers delicate as the held the side of your face. “Just relax,” he breathed, kissing the top of your cheekbone before turning you around.

Something like excitement stirred in you, even though you were much too exhausted for sex currently. But that wasn’t Harry’s intention. You heard the familiar squirt of the shampoo bottle behind you, and before you could utter a single word, Harry’s fingers were in your hair, massaging your scalp and working the shampoo into a nice lather on your head.

It was the greatest feeling, your fiance’s hands applying the right amount of pressure to make it feel soothing. Your eyes closed involuntarily, a small sigh leaving your lips as he combed through the ends of your hair. Harry repeated the process for conditioner, then body wash, and even a body scrub and the hair oil you applied after getting out of the shower. He did it all himself. You didn’t lift a finger.

At some point, as the steam and Harry’s fingers and the lovely scents of all the products used on you, you managed to find your voice. “I...I think I lost my job today,” you said, then proceeded to tell him everything. You left nothing out, not a single detail, and Harry didn’t say a word, just listened to you recount your day, and all the frustrations that came with it.

You were in a fluffy pink robe by the time you finished. Harry stood behind you while he combed your hair, careful not to hurt you with each knot he de-tangled. Only when you were obviously done talking did he say something.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, moving your hair aside to kiss your jaw.

“Really?”

He nodded. “I...I’ve noticed that you go...above and beyond for people, but family can be a touchy subject for you, and I didn’t want to upset you by implying that your family relies on you a little too much. But after hearing all of that, I can’t help but think I should’ve said something sooner. Why didn’t you tell me about work?”

“I just thought I was working hard,” you said.

It was true. You never really complained to Harry about work or let on how much you were actually doing. And maybe it was subconsciously because you knew he felt a certain way about how your family treated you. If you looked back, you could see moments where his caution manifested. Cancelling a date or two to pick someone up at the airport, running late because a family member called you at the last minute asking for a favor. It was almost like your life wasn’t yours anymore, it was everyone else’s.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a long stretch of silence while Harry finished combing your hair. “For letting all of that affect our relationship and for earlier. I wasn’t mad at you, I promise.”

“I know,” he said. He kissed your jaw again, letting his lips linger this time. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

You felt like there was, but Harry didn’t seemed concerned about it, just concerned about you.

He went through your skincare routine, applying everything to your face with gentle fingers. With each cream and serum, he kissed you. On your nose, your cheeks, your eyelids, the corners of your mouth. Every inch of your skin was sealed with a kiss and the mumbling of, “I love you.”

Harry helped you dress in cozy clothes—your favorite sweatshirt of his and your softest sweatpants. And when he was done he led you downstairs where a pot of something was waiting on the stove.

“I didn’t know how to make the red sauce,” he admitted. And you blushed at the way you exploded at him for that. He wasn’t asking just because he was lazy or wanted you to make dinner for him, he just needed a little help.

As if he could read all the thoughts swirling in your mind, he kissed your rouged cheek. “But no matter. I made macaroni and cheese for us. Straight from the box.”

“Sounds delicious,” you said. And you meant it, just appreciative that he did so much for you.

Harry served you and poured you wine. He talked about his day and the cute dog he saw while stopping for coffee, all the while holding your hand. And when you were both done, he sent you upstairs to relax while he cleaned the kitchen, threatening to haul you up himself when you tried to take your bowl to the sink.

It was weird to lay in your bed and do nothing. Usually you worked or tried to get some things done for the wedding, but tonight, you just laid in bed and watched some reality show on the television mounted on the wall that faced your bed.

Harry came up a little while later, two mugs with something steaming in them in his hands. He handed on to you and kissed your forehead before setting his down on the night table on his side of the bed and sliding in next to you. You set yours down too, cuddling into his inviting warmth.

You immediately found a comfortable position, tangled in a way that said he wasn’t letting you stand up for a single thing, except for maybe using the restroom. Harry’s cheek was squished against yours, his hand tracing delicate patterns on your stomach while he kissed you whenever he felt like it. It was the most relaxed you’d ever been, you thought. The most at peace.

“I love you,” you whispered, his hands and warmth and endless supply of kisses lulling you to sleep.

“I love you too. Now go to sleep, lovie.

To be taken care of. To hear the promise of Harry doting on you now and the rest of your life in his voice was enough to put a smile on your face as you did just as he said.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

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