#you don’t understand he’s everything to me

[lemonlover1110]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

Toji Fushiguro

Summary: Megumi is insanely jealous of the new addition to the household.

Warnings: Fluff, Jealous!Megumi

*Didn't have anything bigger for Toji for father's day but I had to celebrate it one way or another sfjosjf. Enjoy my lovelies!

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“Papa, up!” Megumi yells, hoping to get his father’s attention when he sees Toji holding the new addition to the family. Megumi has reached the age where he claims to be independent, after all, four is such a big age. He’d cry if you or Toji held him, but he’s changed his mind.

“Your baby sister is crying, give me a minute.” Toji sounds annoyed, knowing that Megumi does it out of jealousy. Jealous of a baby that can’t even hold her own head, kids are so dumb. Megumi lets out a cry before yelling again,

“Papa, up!” He wants attention now. He doesn’t want to wait until Toji is done with some stinky baby. Toji lets out an exasperated sigh as tears begin to stream down Megumi’s face– Crocodile tears, but tears nonetheless. He extends his arms and opens and closes his tiny fists repeatedly, yelling, “Up!”

“Megumi, you don’t want to wake up mommy, do you?” Toji asks, trying his best to calm down the crying baby in his arms while also handling Megumi. Toji goes unheard as Megumi begins to cry his little heart out. 

Toji takes a deep breath, trying to remain collected in this situation. Megumi is only four and getting adjusted to the presence of his little sister. Toji decides that it’s best to walk away, going to the kitchen to get the baby’s bottle and deal with her first since Megumi’s issue isn’t easily resolved. 

“Papa!” Megumi yells, following around Toji as he gets a bottle in the baby’s mouth. 

“Megumi, wait for me in the living room.” Toji says, but Megumi isn’t listening. Daddy isn’t like mommy, whatever mommy says goes but when Toji speaks he goes ignored; Toji’s is far scarier and intimidating than you are, he doesn’t understand why Megumi doesn’t take him seriously. “Megumi, go away!”

“I’m running away!” Megumi stomps his little feet before finally leaving Toji to deal with the baby. Toji breathes in relief, his pesky little bug finally giving him a moment alone. He’s able to go to the living room and sit down comfortably as he finishes feeding his daughter. 

“He’ll come around, princess. He hasn’t witnessed just how cute you are.” Toji coos, as if the baby can understand or care. She finishes her bottle, and Toji burps her before setting her down in her crib. He usually chooses to hold her whenever he can, but right now he has bigger fish to fry.

Toji walks into Megumi’s room, watching how his son tries to fit his most valuable toys into a backpack. Toji is trying his best to not chuckle, knowing that Megumi is deeply hurt. Toji takes a seat on Megumi’s tiny bed, clearing his throat before asking, “Need help packing?”

“You hate me!” Megumi cries, and Toji rolls his eyes. Was he that dramatic when he was Megumi’s age? “Mommy and you don’t love me anymore.”

“Oh c’mon, why do you say that, urchin?” Toji tries to see the little guy’s point of view before attempting to comfort him. The last thing Toji needs is attempting to explain to you why Megumi is packing up all his toys– You leave him alone with the kids for a two hour nap and Megumi’s already moving out. 

“You only care for the new baby.” Megumi angrily muffles, and Toji could’ve guessed as much. 

“C’mere, baby. Let me carry you now.” Toji opens his arms for Megumi, and Megumi glares at his father. He wipes away his tears before deciding that he does want to be carried by his father, after all, the tantrum is simply because of this. Toji picks him up, setting him down on his lap before kissing his forehead. “Is this why you’ve been so sensitive? Because of the new baby?”

“Yeah…” Megumi pouts, and it takes everything in Toji to not laugh.

“I will tell you something but don’t tell mommy, okay?” Toji begins, almost whispering to Megumi. Megumi’s eyes perk up, and Toji is fighting back a smirk. “We… Don’t like the new baby that much. I mean, we just met her. But you, urchin? You’re our favorite.”

“Really?” Megumi’s voice is full of hope, and Toji prays that this means Megumi will stop being so jealous about his baby sister. Toji doesn’t hesitate before nodding. It reminds Megumi that he doesn’t like being held anymore, which makes him get off Toji’s lap.

“Will you behave around her, now?” Toji asks, and Megumi takes a moment to think about it.

“Can we sell her?” Megumi responds, which makes Toji’s jaw drop. Did his cute little urchin seriously just say that?

“Okay, new rule: you’re not allowed near her room.” Toji stands up from the tiny bed, his knees cracking. He leans down and kisses the top of Megumi’s head, “Now unpack all of your toys before mommy wakes up.”

[harryspet]

homestead | r.cameron [p.2]

[warnings]dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, implied jj x reader, kidnapping, NONCON, unprotected sex, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

word count: 3.4k

In which you confront Rafe's unsettling mix of tenderness and manipulation.

part one

Your search of the room for anything useful as a weapon was not fruitful. Most drawers were empty except for clothes. You found more pairs of pajamas and nightgowns, but searching the closet only yielded a few hung sundresses. The bathroom was simple, with a clawfoot tub and another window looking out onto green pastures. On the bathroom counter, you found a wicker basket full of what you assumed were newly bought essentials. Several containers of prenatal vitamins, body washes and creams for sensitive skin, panty liners, Epsom salts, and essential oils. 

Rafe Cameron thought of all of this?

The window offered a view of the other side of the house and a large white barn and Rafe’s blue pickup truck caught your eye. You stepped into the tub to get a closer look out the window. Maybe you could see a road, a way out of here, or even a street sign that might tell you where you were. Just like the bedroom windows, they didn’t budge either. 

The bedroom door swings open once more, and you sink into the empty tub, your head cradled in your hands as you desperately try to force your mind to function. For the sake of your baby, you need to think clearly. The overwhelming situation presses down on you, making it even harder to process what’s happening. You can sense his presence in the doorway, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“I made scrambled eggs,” He said. 

“They make me sick,” You said stoically, “Haven’t eaten them in months.”

“Good to know,” His tall, broad figure stood over you before you heard him kneel down beside the tub, “I also brought yogurt and fresh fruit. How does that sound?”

“All the windows are locked.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said as if it were normal, “I know you’re hungry. You need your strength. I don’t have to remind you why.”

You looked up to see his hand offering a white bowl filled with yogurt, fresh blueberries, and strawberries. He was right—you needed your strength. If not for the baby, then to gather the energy to escape. Perhaps you could think more clearly on a full stomach. You gazed at the food for a full minute, trying to rationalize why you should accept it, wrestling with the cognitive dissonance that churned within you.

You took it from his hands without a thank you and stirred your spoon about twenty times before finally bringing it to your mouth. It tasted heavenly, which you hated. “There’s the cutest farmer’s market a couple of miles from here. The blueberries are incredible but you gotta get there early on Sunday before they’re sold out.”

You met his eyes for a brief moment and realized they were sparkling with joy. You didn’t have to respond to him, he’d happily talk to himself as long as he felt like he was making some progress with you. You couldn’t let me feel that way for long, “You’ve outdone yourself, Rafe, really.”

“Just want you to be comfortable,” He shrugged, and you rolled your eyes, “It’s a lot right now, I know that.”

“A lot,” you scoffed, bitterness laced throughout your tone. “This is insane.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he suppressed it, whatever it was, “You’re safe here. Your baby’s safe here. There’s plenty of room, plenty of food, and you’d never have to work a real jon. You haven’t even seen everything yet, but it’s beautiful. It’s a great place to raise a kid.”

“Rafe, you took the choice away from me.”

He shook his head, “So what? I saved you from suffering even further. Not even a little part of you regrets choosing JJ?”

You went quiet, feeling your temper rising. Instead of responding, you brought another spoonful to your mouth. He didn’t understand why this was so completely wrong, and presenting him with common sense didn’t seem to be working. 

“I love you, Y/N,” He spoke as if to get your attention, but you didn’t meet his eyes this time, “Don’t start thinking anyone’s coming to save you, Y/N. And you won’t overpower me or make it far running. Not in your condition. You know that.”

You knew that, didn’t you? Clearly, JJ didn’t care enough about you to do better. And Pope had a bright future ahead of him. Maybe he’d realize he was better off without you. What were you to do now? Give in when you’ve just realized that Rafe is a monster?

“Finish your food, I’ll be back later,” When you looked again he had the plate in hand and was walking away, not without loudly shutting the door. 

Your head tilted back against the cold porcelain. This would turn out to be a game of endurance. You had to outlast him and perhaps outthink him. He’d been planning to bring you here for weeks, but he couldn’t have planned for everything. 

You finished your food and then spent the next few hours exploring the room in more detail, ensuring you hadn’t missed any detail. After all that time, the only new discovery that you make is under the bed. Still, in its packaging, you find a pregnancy pillow. You wouldn’t admit that you felt a small comfort at the sight of it. Sleeping had started to feel completely uncomfortable over the past few weeks, and you woke up painfully sore each morning.

It felt wrong when you knew it shouldn’t. In the meantime, you’d also take some of the prenatal vitamins. You could only afford one bottle of the generic brand, but Rafe provided several different types. Taking multiple kinds meant you weren’t missing any nutrients your baby might need. In just a matter of hours, you were starting to realize all that you didn’t have. 

You unzipped the pillow from its packaging, letting yourself feel the soft material against your chest. Although the knock at the door wasn’t loud, it startled you. Rafe appeared now in work boots, jeans, and a flannel. He held the doorknob in his hand and looked you over as if he hadn’t just seen you or picked out the exact outfit he wanted to see you in. You noticed he was even taller in those boots.

“What do you think?” He gestured to the pillow.

“Looks expensive,” You said simply.

“It had the best reviews,” he added, “You’ll have to let me know how you like it tomorrow morning.”

You stared back at him, shifting on your feet. "Can I show you something?" he asked, the door still wide open. A chance to leave. Of course, you’d take it. Faking compliance, you carefully stepped towards him. As you crossed the threshold of your room, you allowed him to place a hand on the small of your back. "The room right next door," he said.

Your eyes were anywhere but that door. You were scoping out the entire hallway. There were two more doors across the hallway, perhaps one of them was Rafe’s, and you spotted the staircase. The walls were painted a muted beige and adorned with several rustic paintings. The scent of mahogany lingered in the air, likely one of Rafe’s attempts to make this place feel like a home rather than a prison. You couldn’t turn your head far as Rafe was urging you forward. 

“I’ve been working on something,” When Rafe opened the door, you stepped inside a brand new nursery room, “Rose helped with the decorations, but  I can change anything that you don’t like.”

The wallpaper was decorated with blue flowers and little woodland creatures. A wooden crib sat in the corner, a white canopy draping right next to a rocking chair. The window on the far side of the room also looked out onto green pastures. Shelves on the walls were already adorned with toys and baby books. It was surreal. Beautiful and horrifying. You clutched your chest as you slowly walked around the room. 

“Rafe,” was all you could manage to say.

“I didn’t get a lot of clothes yet. I knew you’d want to pick those out,” His arms raised up, scratching his head as if he was nervous to see your reaction. Over the crib, you noticed the space-themed mobile you had picked out at the store gently hanging down. "It’s a good start, right?" he added, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“It’s literally perfect,” You couldn’t lie at that moment, “Rafe, d-do you really think I would be that horrible of a mom on my own?”

“No,” He rushed out, his face falling, “What? No, I don’t think that.”

“I could never give my baby anything like this.”

He came closer, but you stepped back, “That’s not what I’ve been trying to say with all of this. I think you’d be a great mom. You’re gonna be a great mom.”

You needed to hear those words. Maybe Rafe was the wrong source but you needed that confirmation. In a moment of weakness, you let him closer. He wiped your tears as they began to fall, “It’s not about what you have, but I’m telling you that I won’t let you do it on your own,” He wrapped his arm around your waist and tear-eyed, and you let your head rest on his chest, “I’ll take care of every little worry. All you have to do is agree to be mine.”

“If you really care about me,” you said softly, letting him run his hands over your hair. “You’ll let me make my own choices.”

“Y/N–”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done. I really do,” You lied, “And I want this. I promise. I know JJ is no good for me or the baby. Could you just give me a little bit more time?”

“You’ll go back to him,” Rafe said. His grip on your waist tightened, and you pulled your head away from his chest, gazing up at him. 

“It’s not your baby. You know that, right?” It was the wrong thing to say. His nostrils flared, and your heartbeat quickened. There was no reeling it back, so you pressed him further, “Even if we don’t end up together, I wouldn’t keep his baby from him. That’s wrong.”

“What he’s done to you is worse.”

“You’re right,” You said, trying to maintain the calm, “I know that now. And I understand that you care about me-”

“Do you understand? Really understand? Huh?” 

“Rafe-” You pushed at his chest, and he grabbed your wrists tightly. Your eyes widened as you struggled against him, “Please don’t hurt me.”

Powerless, he held you there, “I’d love your baby like it was mine, I would. And soon after, we could have our own. That’s what I want, for us to be a family,” Each word was low, tight, and controlled as he glared down at you. 

“Okay,” You agreed, scared more than anything, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll show you,” He was completely cold now, “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you. How you deserve to be treated. Everything I can give you. Then you’ll see, huh?”

He forced you down to the plush blue carpet with his body weight. You weren’t used to how your center of gravity had shifted, how your belly was also keeping you from being able to push back against him, “Please,” You said over and over again, your arms flailing until he pinned them above your head. You were out of breath already, and you had to slow your movementsand stop your struggling just to catch your breath. In this position, the baby is pressed against your further against your diaphragm, “Rafe, don’t.”

He just looked at you hungrily, grunting as he pulled down your bottoms and underwear. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” He reached between your legs, and you felt your body freeze, “Fucking gorgeous … I’m so lucky.”

You might’ve swooned in any other context. You were more swollen and much more sensitive, meaning you felt every caress that he made. You didn’t want to, but your head tilted back as he carefully rubbed your sensitive mound, “I’ll make you feel good … haven’t been touched in so long. Daddy’s gonna take care of you,” You told yourself that your body was just reacting, that it didn’t matter how good it felt because you didn’t ask for it. He kept your hands pinned only using one of his, as he used his other to undo his jeans. When he finally freed himself, able to palm his growing hardness through his briefs, he let go of your wrists. On your elbows, you tried to pull yourself away and you caught a glimpse of a smirk on his face. He liked this. Watching you struggle and attempt to crawl away. 

You yelped when he grabbed your hips, pulling you back and lifting them up at the same. He was inside of you before you could fully comprehend it. You could handle it if he thrust hard into you if he destroyed you fast, but Rafe took his time with you. There was no rush or hurry in his movements. He went as deep as you would take him, and his long strokes left you crying out with each one. 

You could handle it if it weren’t personal, but Rafe leaned over you and stared into your eyes with fierce determination. He talked you through every rush of pleasure, “I know, baby,” He’d coo when he knew it was too much, “Feels too good, don’t it?”

“I know you’re gonna cum for me,” He’d say when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head. “Cum all over me, baby,” He said when you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

When he spilled into you, your body froze again. He cursed, his hips rutting into you. You felt every drop of him, and he didn’t pull out until he’d fully emptied himself inside of you. He sits back on his knees, and you hear him pull up his zipper. 

You flinched when you felt his hand on your thigh again.

“I’m sorry.”

What exactly he was apologizing for, you had no idea.

Rafe had gotten what he wanted because you didn’t speak out of turn once over the next two days. At some point, you expected the cavalry to arrive and come save you, but that hope shrank with each passing day. He invited you out of your room, and each time, you denied it. You easily recalled what happened the last time you left your room. You had all you could mentally handle within the room, and Rafe would bring you all three needed meals and snacks. You were quiet when he started the conversation, but you mustered up a few sentences for him when he grew frustrated at the lack of back and forth. 

You should have been focused on escape, but all you could think about was never letting him do to you again what he had done on the nursery floor. Being pregnant already made you feel like you had no control over your body. Rafe amplified that feeling, making you feel even more vulnerable and easily manipulated given your current state.

You spent most of the day sleeping, punctuated by long baths or staring out the window. Rafe woke up early each morning to tend to chores, the animals, and the early summer harvest. The vast expanse of land meant you didn’t see all the animals during the day, but in the afternoons when he fed Wrangler and Sadie, many of the animals rushed to the fence, hoping for scraps.

“Got you some books,” Rafe said when he came to see you around dinner time. To your disappointment, he wasn’t carrying any dinner with him. He set the stack of books on the dresser before adding, “And I ordered pizza.”

“Thank you,” you said, resting your head back down on your pillow, hoping that meant he’d bring it to you later. 

“Come watch a movie with me, I finally got the surround sound set up.”

“I’d like to eat up here, please?” You asked quietly, “I don’t feel good.”

“You haven’t felt good since you got here.” You let him sit in silence, “You’ll come eat downstairs tonight, Y/N.”

This was the first time you felt he was forcing you out of your room. You didn’t have the courage to upset him, so you lifted yourself out of the bed. He watched you intently, as if waiting for your compliance, aware of your recent streak of obedience. The way the look on his face softened was obvious, and you hated how relieved that made you feel. 

This time, he led you down the staircase, his hand gently guiding the small of your back as you held onto the railings. As you descended, you caught a glimpse of the front door, sunlight streaming in from the setting sun, but Rafe guided you in the opposite direction.

You passed through a large dining area with a substantial dark wooden table near the front of the house, then continued into a cozy living room. A plush sectional couch faced a massive stone fireplace, underneath which neatly stacked firewood awaited use. Above, a large flatscreen TV was mounted on the wall, flanked by windows dressed in simple, cream-colored curtains. Adjacent to the windows, a bookcase filled mostly with DVDs caught your eye.

He took the time to show you the downstairs bathroom and laundry room before leading you to the kitchen, which was located toward the back of the house. It was straight out of a magazine, spacious and well-appointed, complete with a charming breakfast nook. Many of the touches seemed to reflect Rose's influence, and seeing the rest of the house gave you a clearer picture of just how well-off he was.

A box of pizza sat atop the kitchen island, and Rafe pulled out one of the stools for you to sit on.

“You take care of this place all by yourself?” You asked as Rafe helped you into the seat.

“I’ve had some help,” He shrugged, “But I won’t need much help anymore now that you’re here.”

“You’re expecting me to take care of the house?” 

“Someday soon,” he spoke nonchalantly, opening the pizza box. He grabbed a slice straight from it and started eating so you assumed you could do the same. He added with a slightly full mouth, “Better than working at The Wreck.”

You took a bite of your pizza, not wanting to delve into that conversation further. You should’ve known he was expecting you to be a homemaker. Now that you were gonna be a Mom, you didn’t need to have any career aspirations. 

You picked at your slice under his careful eye. This house exuded a warmth that almost drowned out the coldness you felt toward Rafe. You took the time to map out all the windows and doors and the downstairs layout. It kept your mind busy and, combined with the food, provided a helpful distraction. 

“Are you feeling better now?” His voice cut through the silence. 

“I’m fine.”

“You still like those cheesy rom-coms?”

A memory flashed in your mind. You saw Rafe sitting across from you on his bed. A huge party was going on downstairs in Tannyhill, but you and he were upstairs watching a movie. You wanted so badly to show him Enchanted. He didn’t act impressed at the time, but you could tell he liked it because he couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen. 

“Yeah,” You answered cautiously, though the truth was that you hadn’t had time to enjoy a movie in long time. 

“I happen to have a few Patrick Dempsey movies … if that interests you,” He smiled, trying to tease you. 

“I really should get some rest . . .”

“A movie will help you relax. Just one? C’mon, we can watch Can’t Buy Me Love,” Realizing he wouldn’t let up, you gave in.

You sat on the couch as he moved to set up the movie. You should’ve known that he would sit right next to you, his arm wrapped around the pillows directly behind you, “Relax, enjoy the movie.” He said as the movie’s intro began, and you did your best to appear more like you were. When it wasn’t sufficient, Rafe pulled you closer until you could only lay against his shoulder to be comfortable. You tried to focus on one of your favorite movies and there were moments that night when you completely forgot your circumstance. 

Yet, every additional touch brought you sharply back to reality—whether it was the gentle circles his thumb traced on your arm or the tender kisses he placed atop your head.

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

[algae-tm]

AGORA HILLS

Daniel Ricciardo x rapper!Reader SMAU

Warnings : SUGGESTIVE content!! Reader and Daniel being horny for eachother on main

face claim : megan thee stallion

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lewishamilton : an amazing show as always y/n! But was that last part really necessary?

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youruser : I see your “Danny Ric is a loser who doesn’t deserve y/n” and raise you “LOOK AT HIM, LOOK AT MY MAN, LOOK AT HIS BIG GORGEOUS, RIDEABLE NOSE, AND HIS TATTED THIGHS AND HIM IN A SUIT!!! RATTLING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!! I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM, GOD FORGIVE ME FOR EVERYTHING IM GOING TO DO TO THIS MAN WHEN I GET HOME FROM THIS DINNER, THE SLOPPIEST TOP THATS EVER GUNNA SLOP IS COMING HIS WAY!” oh btw Agora Hills out like rn! view all comments

maxverstappen1 : oh… uhm okay. NURSE SHES OUT AGAIN

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[formulamoons]

Charles jealousy smut please! 🔥

content.- fem! reader, unprotected sex, crempie, minors do not interact

Charles is not typically the jealous type; he trusts you deeply. However, even the most patient man has his limits. After the DNF, the cookies you baked for Bryan no longer seem like a thoughtful welcome gesture. The way his hand grips your arm feels far from friendly, and he can feel his blood begin to boil.

Still, he doesn't move, watching as you laugh at something his mechanic said. His fist clenches when you throw your head back, holding onto Bryan's arm in your fit of laughter.

He doesn’t even comment about it. Clearly you have forgotten who you’ve been dating for the past few years.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅

“Don’t fucking run from it Ange, take it like a big girl” he commanded, his hand heavy on the back of your head, pushing your face down against the couch in his private driver's room while his cock drilled meanly into your cunt.

The swollen head of his cock pierced your sensitive folds with each forceful thrust while he bullies into your pussy, the loud slap of his balls against your skin echoing in the room, making you worry if anyone could hear.

You let out a cry, your body being jerked back and forth with each of Charles harsh thrusts. His free hand pressing down into your arch deeping it so he could angle his dick into that spot that makes you utterly weak.

“Wonder what was so fucking funny Ange” he grumbled watching tears welling in your eyes while your stomach burned with heat. his hands find its way to grope at your tits, pinching at your hard nipples making you let out a choking whine, leaving no space for a response.

Your body trembled as Charles's fingers traced down your stomach, stopping at your clit to rub the sensitive nub. " m-mmgh, Oh God... Charles," you moaned into the couch, only to cry out when he slapped your clit.

"What were you laughing at, Ange? Answer me," Charles grunted not slowly his thrusts down for even a second his hand still teasing on your clit.

You were too busy drooling onto the couch, fucked out beyond belief, this was probably the hardest Charles has ever fuck you before You were certain your muffled moans could be heard from outside the driver's room.

“Was he mocking your inept boyfriend? How he wants to dick you up? ‘s that why you laughed?” You whimpered when Charles's hand left your clit to strike your ass. “no one gets to fuck you aside from me” he says with a shrug.

“Charles, fuck-oh,mmh—” you babble your brain too consumed in pleasure to care about what was he rambling about.

“You are mine, get it into your head Ange, no one else get to feel this pussy suck their cock” he growled, his chest pressed against your back, his hot breath against your ear. "Do you understand?"

You could only whimper as you felt yourself getting close, pussy clenching around Charles's cock as he thrust deeper. "Answer me."

"J-just you, Charles," you managed, struggling to speak, his large hands gripping your ass, spreading you apart to admire your wet, parted folds sucking his cock. He watched with satisfaction as he buried himself completely inside you, relishing the sensation of your fingers curling against the couch.

"O-oh, Charles... I'm so close," you cried, your eyes rolling back, legs trembling.

"Fuck, I'm going to give you everything," Charles gritted through clenched teeth, his nails digging into your flesh as he thrust harder, his orgasm crashing over him with your scream of his name, your dripping pussy spasming around his cock. Charles groaned deeply, each thrust heavy and loud, his balls slapping against your folds as he savored the feeling of your pussy before emptying himself inside you.

you whimpered, a loud moan escaping your lips, his movements slowing as he pumped his release, filling you with his warmth.

 “Look at that greedy pussy” pulling out of you slowly and watching his cum spilled in tiny spurts as your hole spasmed.

You let out a breath, letting your body fall limp into the couch. “We were laughing at how awful the car is.”

“Oh,” Charles replied, his demeanor shifting as he processed your words.

A/n. It took me ages, but here it is.

[munsonson]

Blurb

Sunshine!Reader x Eddie Angst

She finds him eventually, leaned up against his locker with something crinkled in his hands. His hair, unkempt as it always was, drowned him in its essence, hiding his face from her. She smiles, running up to him with her familiar smile.

“Hey, Eds,” she greets, “did you want to go to that milkshake place after all?”

He doesn’t answer. In fact, he doesn’t move at all. Her eyebrows knit together in concern. She hesitantly brings up a hand to tap him on the shoulder.

“Eds? Hey, you okay?” she asks.

He looks up at her at last. He’s smiling, too, but there’s something strange about it. It was like he was forcing it. Those dimples that she always admired weren’t there. His eyes were still brown, but they didn’t crinkle at the ends. He crumples the paper in his hands even more.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

It startles her when he uses her actual name instead of ‘princess’. She decides not to question it.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you trying to hard to be my friend?”

She was confused. “Huh?”

“Why are you trying so hard to be my friend?”

She was sure he was upset now, if his tone was any indication. He couldn’t possible be angry with her, could he? Did she do something wrong? Did Jonathan tip him off that she was going to ask him out tonight? Maybe she was overstepping her boundaries.

“Um, well I…I don’t really understand the question. I thought we were friends,” she says at last. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Now he was balling up the paper and he actually tossed it at her. It hits her forehead unceremoniously before falling to her feet. It was such a silly moment she nearly laughed. But he wasn’t. He was still forcing a smile.

“You know what I think? I think it’s time we put everything out on the table, really…examine what’s been going on here, you know?” he said. “See, I’ve made it pretty alarmingly clear that most people tend to avoid me, to the point I’m essentially Moses parting the goddam sea of jocks, cheerleaders, and even the burnouts. But for some reason…you won’t budge.”

She tilts her head. “Because I’m your friend.”

“No, it’s because I’m your charity case.” Eddie sneers. He’s not smiling anymore. “It all makes sense, I guess. Can’t find any friends outside of the pervy photographer, so you run off to take your chance with the freak, the super senior.”

“Hey,” she says, offended now. “Please don’t talk about Jonathan like that. And I don’t think you’re a freak, Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“Do you not see the people you surround yourself with?” he asks, incredulous. “Jonathan Byers, the alleged murderer turned non murderer who likes to take pictures of naked unaware chicks. And myself, who’s too stupid for graduation and too stupid to realize he’s been wasting his time on someone who wants to wipe the notion of witchy bitch off her back she’ll find two objectively worse guys just to feel better about herself.”

She had tears gathering in her eyes.

“Why are you saying all of this, Eddie? What is wrong with you?” she asks. Her voice cracks.

“Because I’m done with people using me. Alright? So do me a favor, come next year, put me in your rearview mirror. Just leave me alone,” he snaps, brushing by her.

She watches him. Her heart felt sore and heavy, her stomach nauseated and prepared to empty itself from how upset she was. Did Eddie really think she’d only befriended him to make herself look better by comparison? How could he do that? How could he throw what Jonathan did in her face? She’d told him that in confidence, not for him to weaponize it against her.

She fell into the lockers, the echoing slam not enough to deafen the sounds of her cries as she slid down onto the tiled floor. What could she do now? Should she tell Jonathan what happened, ask what she should do next?

She spots the tiny crumpled piece of paper beside her and picks it up. He’d been reading this when she approached.

Unraveling it and trying her best to smooth out the page, she reads it over. Startled, she quickly rereads it again.

It was for the parent or guardian of Eddie, explaining he’d have to repeat this term over again. He wasn’t graduating. That was why he was so upset.

Despite the words and insults he threw at her, she was still tempted to find him again and hug him. This was clearly what had him so depressed, not her. He was just letting his anger out. Even if that wasn’t right, she found it easier to forgive him now.

But she didn’t want to make him more mad. If avoiding her next year made him feel better about the whole ordeal, she’d oblige him.

[clockwayswrites]

Danny & Cass, Cyan, Bag crinkling @mynewhyperfixation

A bag of chips landed next to Cass, crinkling under its own weight as it hit the concrete roof. Two plastic water bottles were flung up next— Cass caught them both— and then a worn canvas tote joined everything else. She waited patiently for the mop of black and white hair to appear over the edge as Danny hauled himself up to sit next to her on the ledge.

He grinned at her, always cheerful. “Hey black bird! I hadn’t seen you for awhile, I was getting worried.”

Cass smiled back and offered him the water bottle without the label. The thin plastic crinkled as he took it. Instead of opening it, he tilted his head as he looked her over.

“You look good,” he said, “and happy too.”

Cass nodded and held her arms up above her head, fingertips touching in a point. She thought as hard as she could about the others, her new family. She knew Danny would understand, he almost always did.

“You got a home? That’s great Birdie!” he said, smiling even wider. Then the smile faltered, just for a moment. It wasn’t as real after. “Guess I won’t be seeing you anymore then, huh? But that’s a good thing! You have a home now. They’re treating you well, right?”

Cass nodded eagerly. Things were weird and sometimes hard, but she felt safe with them.

“Good. That’s really good.” Danny’s smile had faded into something softer. His shoulders dropped a little and the water bottle was quiet in his hands. He looked away from her and back down to the street.

He was sad.

That wouldn’t do.

Danny had been the first person that was nice to Cass. He was always happy— or tried to be happy— even when things were horrible. He had looked after her even when he had nothing to give.

Cass leaned over and hooked her arm in his.

Danny rolled his eyes. “No, we can’t. It just won’t work like that, black bird. You have a home now and it’s not safe out here. They’d worry about you too much if you keep coming out here. You shouldn’t risk that.”

Rolling her eyes right back, Cass gave a little tug to Danny’s arms.

His eyes widened and he leaned back from her. “What? No, I can’t just come with you! They took you in, Birdie, no one asked for me.”

Cass pressed her free hand against her chest and frowned at him.

“No one but you, Birdie,” Danny said softly. He sighed and leaned over until their shoulders bumped. “I can’t ruin this chance for you. I can’t follow you there. I don’t get a home anymore.”

--- AN: I might keep adding to this with the other prompts for Danny & Cass! Idk I have real sleepy bitch disease right now (chronic fatigue + new migraine meds is a shit combo) so I'm not sure if this all even comes across but I hope you enjoy, darlings. Feel free to add onto this yourself if you want!

[cherryredcheol]

passenger princess

tldr: just use your own car? tf? a/n: could be part two to this but does not have to be!

seungcheol looked up from his phone, “i’ll drive but we can’t take my car.” he was happy to drive across town if it meant he could go check out that cafe that had gone viral for their delicious pastries. he had someone in mind who might love a sweet treat…

seungkwan’s eyebrows shot up, “why not, hyung? is there something wrong with your car?” 

chan, who had been really trying to get anyone else to drive so he didn’t have to, swatted at seungkwan, and muttered under his breath, “shut up.”

seungcheol’s cheeks heated, a blush creeping it’s way across his face, embarrassed at seungkwan’s insinuation, “there’s nothing wrong with it. i just have kkuma’s stuff in there and it’s easier if i don’t have to move it.”

seungkwan rolled his eyes, “sure, hyung. that’s why.”

later, pastry procured and back in his car, seungcheol waited patiently in the parking lot of your office building for your shift to end. your little gasp upon seeing the primly decorated box made his mid-day errand totally worth it. 

“oh my gosh! cheollie, thank you so much. you really didn’t need to do this. i feel so bad you drove across town just for me.” your gratitude came out muffled around a mouthful of pastry but you’re sure he got the sentiment. 

he did, “well, the members were going and i offered to drive. you mentioned this cafe last week so i thought this was the perfect opportunity. besides baby, i’d drive all over the globe to make you happy.” 

you paused, “wait–”

seungcheol, who was in the middle of reversing out of the parking spot, stopped the car, “what’s wrong, baby? is everything okay?” 

you nodded, “yes, cheollie. everything is fine. keep driving.” 

he was relieved but confused, “okay…” 

the car started to move again, “if you drove, how come my seat isn’t all messed up?” 

seungcheol nodded, finally understanding, “i told them we couldn’t take my car because i had kkuma’s stuff. they always mess your seat up because it’s apparently in the perfect position to see my–”

“to see your dimples! yes!” you interrupted him, “and every time you drive someone else around they move my seat and it takes me forever to get things back just right.” you ended your speech with a little chef’s kiss to drive home your point. 

“i know, baby. and it makes you pouty so i drove a different car. just to protect your seat.” as he eased the car to a stop at a red light, he leaned over and kissed your cheek. 

you grabbed his face, not content with just a kiss on the cheek, you smashed your lips into his, really trying to convey your feeling, “you’re the best, cheollie.” 

“anything for you, baby.”

[dervngedgf]

blindfold stays on during sex (it doesn’t)

cw: satoru gojo x fem!reader uhh, sex. little to no plot at all. it’s just sweet porn.

credit to ml @loverboyko for the scrumptious idea of gojo keeping his blindfold on during sex until u tell him u love him :3. they feed my brainworms sm *chews on them*

gojo who keeps his blindfold on during sex because without your cunt clamping down on him everything is super overwhelming, he thinks he may actually combust if there’s no blindfold while he’s buried inside of you. gojo and you had been casually seeing each other, nothing was official- but you were falling. you fell in love with gojo satoru, the strongest.

nights spent together in the penthouse he pays for that you stay in, pampered like a fucking princess. tonight, like many other nights was ending with you being pressed into the mattress while his hips slap against your ass. the wet sounds of ur cunny and skin slapping filled the room mixed with the moans and huffs falling from both of your guys’ mouths.

“s’full ‘toru.. fuuu…” you’re a mess, and he’s eating it up. broken cries and moans only making his hips ram into you harder.

“fuckfuckfuck.. gonna cum ‘toru. pleaseplease don’t stop, fuck— i love y- s’much.” the confession came out broken, but gojo had fucked you enough times to understand exactly what you were saying, no matter how broken on high pitched.

you loved him. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt loved, let alone told that he was loved. he ripped the blindfold off of his head, all worried of being too overstimulated gone, out the window, poofed. surprisingly enough, you were his peace. all of you, that’s the only thing his six eyes were focused on. you you you.

”Look up princess, look at yourself falling apart on me.” And you do, you look up, knowing the mirror gojo had specifically added was sat against the wall the end of your bed. at first your eyes gazed at yourself, but then you saw it.

the blinding blue. his eyes were practically glowing. cutting straight through any resolve you had left, fuck everything about this man was ethereal. he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be. but the way his cock kissed your cervix was very very real.

he noticed you staring directly into his eyes through the mirror. when your eyes met each other you came with no warning, silky walls squeezing around his painfully hard cock. your cunny suffocating him, working on milking him for everything he had.

”Fuck fuck.. s’tight. Shit, I love you. I love you s’much cutie. God you and this fuckin’ cunt are gonna be the death of me.” him saying he loved you only made your orgasm last longer. gojo hissed, his hips struggling to move against the grip your pussy had on his cock. he glanced back into the mirror, tearing his eyes away from where his cock was disappearing inside of you. when he saw you mouthing the words ’love you’ he came. he came so fucking hard it knocked the air out of his lungs.

the rest of the night was spent sickly sweet. a shower where he wouldn’t stop teasing you for how you confessed.

”you’re lucky i’ve fucked you dumb enough times to be able to tell what you said!”

god, he was insufferable.

but, he’d let the world burn for you. he’d burn the world down for you. gojo satoru loved you.

ask/requests: OPEN

[mrsparrasblog]

I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.

TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*

So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)

Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.

"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."

"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"

"This time, I promise."

To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasn’t fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.

Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.

When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.

Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldn’t survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.

Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”

Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldn’t stop you from loving a dead man?

All the conversations came flooding back:

"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."

"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."

"You're beautiful, Ghost."

"You're enough."

"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didn’t even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.

Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.

His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didn’t understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasn’t there anymore.

Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know you’re rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Don’t want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Can’t miss the birth of your princess, can you?"

[amirasainz]

hi i was wondering if you could do a max x kelly x amira where she’s in the red bull paddock and she just gets showered with attention from everybody and carlos gets a bit jealous?

You don’t have to do it if you feel uncomfortable!

Hope this is what you wanted. Enjoy reading and don't be shy to send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Mango-Dragon Fruit Refresher

“- and here is a hot cup of chocolate for you. Oh, and a blanket, so you don’t get cold,” said GP. “If you need anything else, let me know and we will get it for you,” added Christian. “Christian, she isn’t going to stay here. Her and Kelly—” Max started before Geri interrupted him. “While we wait for the food to arrive, let’s do some online shopping with Christian’s card.”

To be honest, it was quite a funny sight in the Red Bull garage. Max and Kelly didn’t realize that the situation would escalate like that. When the couple first woke up, their bodies were filled with excitement. Today was finally the day where Amira would spend her day at the Red Bull garage. They had asked her yesterday when they took her out for dinner. And like the sweet angel she is, she answered with a soft “I would love to spend the day with you guys.”

This morning, everything was fine. Kelly and she got ready together, while Max ordered breakfast for all of them. Afterwards, they drove to Starbucks where Amira got four “Mango Dragon Fruit Iced Refreshers.” They obviously didn’t want their love to get thirsty on their way.

But the moment the three of them entered Max’s garage, everything went downhill. The mechanics and the PR team cheered when they saw the Spanish girl. They stole her from Max and Kelly’s side, showing her the car. Amira, because she honestly is the most polite person on earth, paid attention to every single thing they showed her. Then, out of nowhere, Christian and Geri arrived, catching up with their favorite “daughter.” So one can understand why Kelly and Max are currently pissed off.

But the couple wasn’t the only one being unhappy with the situation. Carlos, who was passing by with Charles and Fred by his side, saw how everyone was hogging his precious little sister. The moment he heard Geri promise her to do some online shopping, he saw red. How dare they buy his sister things when she is only supposed to buy things with HIS money? And the audacity of the whole team has to give her a Red Bull branded blanket! She is the FERRARI princess, NOT the Red Bull one. It’s not Ferrari’s fault that the team doesn’t have any pretty princesses they can cuddle and love (Sorry Kelly.)

So like a man on a mission, Carlos marched into the garage. “Hey, you can’t b—” started one of Max’s mechanics before falling quiet under Carlos’ murderous glare. He marched towards his sister, “ripping” her out of Geri’s arms. “Sainz, you can’t just walk in here; this is not your garage,” said a furious Christian. “And this is not your sister, so you can’t have her,” countered Carlos. “Now wait Carlos; you know she is our guest today,” said Kelly. “Oh yeah? How about you all stop stealing our guest and try to find some fans for your own team?” answered Carlos.

Charles and Fred were heard from outside, both of them encouraging Carlos. “Yes Chilli! Don’t let them take your sister away from you!” Charles yelled. Before anyone could say anything else, Carlos gently took Amira’s hand, saying “Let’s get out of here, hermosa. We can do some shopping with Charles if you like,” receiving a smile from the girl.

The Red Bull team watched with bewildered faces how the Sainz siblings left the pit lane with Charles. Fred, who was still left at the entrance turned towards Christian, pointing his finger at him and yelled a loud and joyous “HA!” before skipping happily towards his team building.

The silence was interrupted when Kelly turned towards Geri and said: “This is all your fault!” “MY FAULT?! How can this possibly be my fault?” asked Geri. This was the moment cameras captured the biggest fight ever in Formula 1.

And Checo? He stood on his side of the garage, enjoying a refreshing “Mango Dragon Fruit Refresher.”

[kendyzzlewp]

The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.

tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”

Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.

“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”

His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”

Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”

“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”

Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“

You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.

“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”

You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.

“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”

Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.

“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”

A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.

They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.

“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”

You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”

Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.

Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Jackson.”

Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.

“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”

Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”

“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.

Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”

Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”

The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.

“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.

He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”

[dazed--xx]

SKZ!Reactions: It Was All a Bet II (Maknae Line)

Part 1 Hyung Line Masterlist

Jisung:

“No.”

You growl as Jisung stood in front of you, a guilty pout on his lips. “But Babe…. —nope. Fix that, like now.” You cut him off. His head drops as he stares at the ground. “Y/N, I understand you’re upset b-but I genuinely care about you. I really want to talk about this. I’m truly so sorry.” He whimpers as he grips your hand lifting it slightly to his chest. You stare at him in disbelief. It hadn’t even been an hour since he confessed the truth. Has he no shame? You wonder to yourself. You pull your hand away “I’m sorry but are you like, dumb? Did you forget what you told me?” You snap. Jisung looks up at you with shock and guilt on his features. “N-No…” He stammers panicked. “B-But, please l-lets talk about this.” He pleads. Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Excuse me?” You snort. “If you haven’t realized, our conversations ended when I told you to go to hell. Cause I mean it. Go to hell Han Jisung. Honestly, any of you that made the bet can go to hell. Was it the guys?” He nods regret evident in his eyes, shame written all over his face. “I’m so sorry….” He whispers, his voice breaking as his eyes well up with tears.

 “What does that do for me?”

He looks at you quizzically, “W-what do you mean?”

“You being sorry doesn’t go back in time and make you not tell me that. It doesn’t change you making the bet in the first place, honestly you saying that right now does nothing but clear your own conscious but of course why am I not surprised? You seem to keep doing things that only benefit you anyway.” He shakes his head rapidly. “No…. Y/N, no…. you’re wrong.—I am? Cause from where I’m standing you confessed to being a disgusting pig and that your friends are disgusting pigs who view women as just simple toys to mess around with as you please, and then after such confession you track me down to my job; ask my manager for me to talk to you for a second then have the nerve to apologize and cry like you deserve anything from me?” You cut him off with a monotonous tone. A look of horror paints his features, his entire demeanor looks crushed as his head hangs low. “At least I said something, I could have never said anything, you could have found out from someone else….” He murmurs, his frustration growing evident. You scoff “Oh?! I’m sorry, of course, you confessed to being crap so I should humor you right?” Jisung looks at you, you notice his jaw clenching in frustration. “Dammit why are you being like this? I’m sorry! I’ve never regretted anything more in my life please just—just talk to me about this…” He snaps before he sighs, letting all his anger leave his body with the sigh. “…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made such a disgusting bet, no matter who it was, but I don’t regret being with you. I don’t regret meeting you; I don’t regret going out with you, I don’t regret loving you. I don’t want to lose you.” He breathed.

 You stare at him blankly. “Again, that does nothing for me. I understand you regret your actions and cool or whatever, but that doesn’t change the fact that you used me. You slept with me……for money…. like a prostitute…which is so utterly degrading. Also, I will point out that again I am at work, so I don’t have time to entertain my ex that I literally broke up with earlier today.” You counter. Jisung sighs in defeat “There’s nothing I could do to change your mind? Please Y/N, I love you…. I-I don’t want to break up. I’m really sorry…I couldn’t be sorrier. Please don’t do this…” He pleads apologetically. You shake your head lifting your hand “You can’t change someone’s mind about your betrayal. You still betrayed them; you haven’t even given me time to process what you did. Look I need time, but I hope it was worth it.” You state as you turn away from him and walk back into your job. Jisung stares at the door you just went through.

“How could it have been worth it when it cost me everything?”

Felix:

“You have to talk to me at some point, we’re literally on tour together for the next 6 months….” Felix mumbles as you shove past him. You scoff at him not saying anything as you hand Changbin a water bottle as he requested and make your way back toward your members. Noticing you have a tail, you turn and glare at Felix, who freezes in his place with a look of surprise on his face. “I know you’re trying to intimidate me, but you look way too cute for me to be able to be fearful right now…” He flirts sweetly as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “…Please just talk to me, I miss hearing your beautiful voice.” He whispers apologetically as he leans in close “Did you make a bet to date me for a year and then dump me after said year?” You question coldly your arms crossed over your chest as you pull your face away from his hand. He closes his eyes as a look of guilt and regret crosses his features. “Y-Yes, but—no buts…that kinda says it all then, doesn’t it?” You cut him off as you turn away from him and try to continue walking but you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist.

“I love you…. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, if you’re still mad at me then I can accept that. If you still want to punish me then fine. But please, it’s been three months since I’ve last been able to talk to you, let alone see you; please let me just have the chance on this tour to fix things.” He urges hopefully. You sigh “Felix…. —Do you still love me?” He cuts you off, his breathing growing heavy as you feel your cheeks heat up. “That doesn’t matter…” You answer, as you attempt to pull yourself from his grip. “Yes, it does…” He whispers, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“No. It really doesn’t. My love for you doesn’t change what you did….”

“It tells me if I have a chance to change your mind though.”

“Why are you so adamant about this? Why can’t you just move on?” You argue. “Because I love you and I don’t want to love anyone else…” Felix states matter of factly. Your heart races at his words. “W-well…I-I’ve moved on…” You lie. You feel Felix’s grip tighten slightly as he buries his face in your neck, you feel a soft rumble on your chest as you hear a chuckle escape Felix’s throat “No, you haven’t…you still love me” He denies. You scoff in offense, turning your head to face him.

“You don’t know that. Not for a fact.”

“I do. Want me to prove I do?”

Your eyes narrow at him “You can’t prove how someone else fee”—your words are cut off by a pair of soft plush lips connecting with yours. Your heart races at the contact as one of Felix’s hands caress your cheek, his lips moving against yours softly. Your cheeks burn a bright scarlet as you instinctively respond to the kiss, a small groan released from your throat when Felix nibbles on your bottom lip. It felt almost like an eternity before either of you pulled away, him being the first to do so. Your lips chasing his for a moment before you hear a chuckle “See…proved it” He whispered in your ear seductively “this is going to be a fun 6 months with you babe” He placed a kiss on your cheek before handing you the water bottle you had given Changbin back and walking away. You stare at the water bottle in confusion “Where did you have this hiding?!” Felix shrugs as he places his hands in his basketball shorts pockets. “I’m an enigma, I’m your boyfriend you should know this…”

Seungmin:

“I’ll tell you now, besides Seungmin. You should be the last person to come and see me.”

You growl at Jeongin who stood with a guilty expression on his face as he stood on your porch. He hangs his head low as he sighs “I’m sorry Y/N, the bet was my idea…I shouldn’t have pushed Seungmin to accept it so much.” He apologized regretfully. “Do you want a medal or something?” You snap as you wipe the tears from your face. “You know what sucks about finding out that Seungmin had this bet going?” Jeongin shakes his head in response, “That he’s a jerk?” Jeongin guesses. “No. that my best friend is just as disgusting as my ex was.” You growl before you slam the door in Jeongin’s face. You sigh as you press your back against the door, your body gliding down the surface until you’re sat on the floor. Tears stream down your cheeks, as sobs wrack your body. The betrayal of Seungmin’s words truly setting in for the first time in days. Pulling your phone out, you press on Seungmin’s contact name and call him.

He answers on the first ring “Babe?” He gasps out quickly. “D-don’t.” Your voice cracks.

“A-are you crying?”

“Yup. Thanks for that by the way….”

“I—I know it doesn’t mean anything to you, but I am really fucking sorry.”

You sigh into the phone as you sniffle “You’re right. That means absolutely nothing to me. I called because I’m really upset and its your fault and I’m really fucking mad at you right now. How could you do this to me? I thought you liked me…. I thought I meant something to you…” you sob. “You do! Please don’t think you don’t…. please…” He pleads desperately. “You mean everything to me. I just made a massively stupid mistake. I-I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to find out this way….” You scoff “This way or at all?” Seungmin pauses for a moment “Honestly, I wish I could say I would have told you but if you didn’t overhear me, I wouldn’t have ever told you about it.” He confesses, his voice cracking toward the end. “Why not? You won right?” You retort sarcastically.

“Don’t.” He groans “Don’t do that, please? I didn’t want you to know because I knew this would happen. I know I deserve this, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me too. You don’t think I hurt myself too? You don’t think I hated myself every time I saw you and you looked at me in that perfectly beautiful way you do, and I knew that it all started from some disgustingly misogynistic bet? But that doesn’t change that I loved you the whole time. It doesn’t change that I knew you were meant for me since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Your heart races at his words. You notice the soft sniffles coming from the other side of the phone. “A-Are you crying?” You ask. “I shouldn’t be. I caused this. I stupidly listened to Jeongin, and I knew it wasn’t a good idea…I knew you had no interest in Jeongin at all, but—sigh—I let my stupid jealousy make a decision for me. I regret it. I’ve regretted it ever since I made it.” He confesses. Your heart feels conflicted. His words sway your resolve more and more. “Can I have some time?” You ask softly. “I need to feel not completely and utterly foolish to continue this conversation…”

“Take your time…I’ll wait as long as you need me to…. but I do love you….”

Jeongin:

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m more than sorry…”

Jeongin pleaded as he trailed behind you on your walk home from work. “God, I hope dispatch doesn’t find out where I live….” You groan as you stand in front of your apartment building. Glaring at Jeongin who stood there, face exposed, exclaiming his love for you. “Does that really matter right now?” Jeongin questioned frustratedly. “I mean considering we broke up over two weeks ago? Yeah. It would be a major problem.” You argue. Jeongin shakes his head in denial, “No. we’re not broken up. I never agreed to breaking up.” He whined, tears forming in his eyes as he continued to argue “I’m giving you space and time to be upset, I deserve you to be mad at me. I know you deserve better than someone as gross as I am who would make a bet like that, but I promise you, when I said it was the easiest 500 dollars, I ever made I meant it in a good way. I meant it was easy to be with you because you’re so amazing. B-because I love you, that’s why it became so easy. Honestly, before the guys said something that day, I forgot I even made the bet.”

 “Can you like…not be so fucking rational all the time?” You groan in frustration, “But I don’t care if you wanted to break up or not. Like you said, you made a gross ass bet with your gross ass friends. I’m not some random desperate insecure girl hoping and praying you’ll stay interested in me. If you mess up this bad it’s not up to me to help you fix it. This shit is gonna take time if I even want to see you again when I’m no longer angry.”

“If? Y-You don’t want to see me anymore?” His voice cracks as he stares at you apologetically, tears now streaming down his cheeks as your words hit him. “Y-You won’t even give me a chance?” You rest your forehead on the palm of your hand for a moment. “You made a bet to sleep with me and then break up with me after I said I love you.” You remind him. Jeongin looks nauseous at the mention of his misdeed. “b-but I didn’t. I-I didn’t do it…I didn’t break up with you. T-the guys—I don’t care” You cut him off “who cares if you and the guys changed their minds after the fact—'b-but we really felt’—I don’t care. You guys should feel guilty. I’m a fun, and nice person, I have awesome memes and I value honesty over everything. The fact that you could lie to me for almost two fucking years is insane.” You snap, your blood boiling as he continues to try to make excuse after excuse. “If you didn’t fall in love with me or whatever, you would have ripped my heart out.” You state matter of factly. Jeongin shakes his head in denial. “T-that’s not true, I’m not like that. I would have told you the truth, I swear I would have said something if I never felt anything for you. I felt like telling you the whole first two weeks of us dating.” He counters. You snort at the irony “So you had no feelings for me the whole first two weeks of us dating? What changed? Why’d you suddenly get feelings? You sure you didn’t just trick yourself into thinking you loved me out of guilt.”

“I’m a good guy, but not that good of a guy. I’d love to say this is not like me but that wouldn’t be true. I’ve done these types of bets with the guys before. I’ve liked some of the girls and some I didn’t either way I always told them the truth at the end of the timeframe. But for you, it was at that party we went to in Seongnam; Felix was really drunk and rambling on and on about the bet when you went to the bathroom and the whole time, he was talking all I could think about was how I didn’t want you to break up with me on the same night I had realized I liked you. I mean how could I not? Y-You’re perfect. You’re so kind and understanding and forgiving….” His voice breaks as he tries to contain his tears “…. You’re the most beautiful person I know, and I-I can’t lose you. Not like this. Please. Not like this” He begs as the tears continue to stream down his face.

You stand there for a moment, silence taking over both of you. For a moment it feels like time has stopped completely and you two are the only ones in this place. “I-I…I can’t.” You whisper, a look of bewilderment is written all over Jeongin’s expression. “N-No…y-you love me…w-we love each other. You can’t—you can’t do this. Please don’t—don’t do this.” He stammers in denial. “I-I’m not saying we have to completely break up…b-but I need time, I can’t trust you anymore. It feels like I don’t know you anymore….” You reject softly. Jeongin sobs “Y-Yes you do! You know me better than anyone, I made a mistake, I know that. But I’ll never hurt you like that again, ill never betray your trust again please….”

“I love you; I do. But I need time….”

“Please…. don’t walk away from us, I care about you so much. It was a mistake, promise you that” He pleads as he walks toward you, his hands encasing your arms. His eyes connecting with yours, you turn your head looking away. His hand caresses your cheek. “I love you please give me a chance to make up for this, please don’t leave me like this. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry I just want to fix this I don’t want to break up.” He urges as he rests his forehead on yours. “I need time I can’t just get over this please give me some time.” You sigh sadly. “B-But—no…. I can’t accept that you did this to me….it hurts too much for me to just jump into something with someone I can’t trust.” You cut him off.

“But you can trust me. Please give me a chance to prove that….”

“I don’t know, I need space…. I need time…. This hurts so much, and I can’t just move on from it. I need to process everything so please give me time and we can talk later—another time.”

His eyes fill with horror as he shakes his head rapidly “I-No….no…. This can’t be happening. P-please….im sorry” you sigh taking a step back. “It is happening, but I need to handle this alone, I can’t be with you please leave….”

He stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched you disappear into your building. “Please, I’m nothing without you….” He whispered nothing.

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[cr4yolaas]

to be fragile — iwaizumi hajime

synopsis: to be gentle is foreign to iwaizumi hajime. you teach him through the seasons.

content: angst, bittersweet fluff. fast burn. implied childhood friends (rdr and iwa). pre-relationship, implied post-relationship at the end. timelines are probably incorrect (i haven’t read the manga in a long time). iwaizumi is probably ooc. gender neutral reader. miscommunication and pushing each other away. coworker akaashi. not proofread.

notes: this was a spur of the moment fic. the pacing is very very swift and somewhat cheesy and i kinda just blew through everything in one go, because i didn't really plan any of this out LOL. hope u enjoy :)

SPRING, 2014

Iwaizumi had always been rough around the edges.

From youth, his shoulders had been burdened with the weight of the world, a result of his overbearing desire to be reliable. It grew increasingly evident as he aged. Even more so when he faced you in the middle of the airport.

“Are you not going to say anything?”

He turned around, his luggage following suit. The crowd swayed around you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his gaze cast to the floor. “I just thought-”

“Hajime.”

Iwaizumi was not delicate. He was not fragile, nor gentle, nor vulnerable. But the call of his name from your lips rendered him a fool.

He watched as you approached him, your fists tight around the strap of your bag. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me anything.” Your footsteps came to a clean halt before him. “I’m sorry if I did something that made you uncomfortable to share this with me. But if all this — pushing me away and leaving without so much as a goodbye — is because you thought it would be better, I don’t want to hear it.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, pretending you didn’t read his intentions. His hand found its way to the hem of his shirt, a tell of his anxiety.

Another apology spilled from his tongue, this time quieter, softer. He braced himself for impact: for tears, for a harsh scolding, anything. Instead, he found himself in your embrace.

“I’m upset you didn’t say anything. But,” you paused, your grip around him tightening. “If you’re happy, I’m happy. Just text me, okay?”

Iwaizumi could only nod. He watched as you released yourself, allowing your fists to return your bag and your eyes to drift away. He waved goodbye, in silence, when you turned around and walked towards the exit. He sat with a heavy heart when your figure was no longer visible, and all he had left to do was wait at his gate.

The promise of a brighter future — one full of success, and passion, and growth — was impossible for Iwaizumi to turn away. Even if it meant casting aside his heart and leaving it in Japan to ache. Even if it meant shouldering the burden of being alone. He never wanted you to see it, in fear of you harboring distaste for him.

When he sat in the plane, Iwaizumi Hajime chewed at his cheek, once more, for he realized he had hurt you in exchange.

FALL, 2019

Against the pleas of his friends, Iwaizumi refused to celebrate his return to Japan. Instead, he found himself searching for you.

His feet were heavy against the asphalt, each second of contact solidifying the gravity of the moment. You sent him your address before he boarded the plane, but before that, there was minimal contact, save for awkward messages checking in on one another out of obligation. Regardless, the dull ache in his chest strung him to your front door.

You opened the door before he could knock.

"Hajime?" you whispered, the syllables of his name seeping from the cracks between your teeth all too easily.

He didn't know where to put his hands, didn't know how to look at you. His fingers found solace in the inseam of his hoodie pocket (which was barely hanging on). The speech he had written during his flight had slipped from his mind, leaving him silent.

You welcomed him in anyways. You had a tendency to do that — to accept him without question. Even if it felt wrong.

"Take a seat anywhere," you spoke, although your attention was elsewhere. The hum of the kettle was the only noise in the room, save for the shuffling of your slippers against the tile or the buzz of the air conditioning. A packet of green tea sat in each mug.

You sat parallel to him. As if to calm your nerves, your hands made their way around the porcelain, the heat of the tea spreading throughout your palms. Iwaizumi slouched in his seat, taking small sips from his mug to make himself look busy. To conceal his fear.

"How was it?"

His eyes darted up to yours, then to the side, then back down to his tea. "It was different. It's warmer there, and the people are louder. I met a lot of good people there, though. I think you would've liked it."

A hum reverberated in your throat. You didn't know how to convey it: your joy at his return, at the fact that you were the first person he chose to see, at him being within arm's reach.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have left like that. I felt like shit afterwards." I missed you.

You smiled warmly, the upturn of your lips filling his lungs with burning hot ichor. "It's alright. I got over it, anyways. I'm just happy you're back." I missed you, too. "What do you plan on doing now?"

"I'm gonna start working with the men's national team, as their trainer. I think I'll-"

"No, I meant, do you have a place to stay? Food to eat?"

He looked away, again, before shaking his head ashamedly. You laughed at his chagrin, your chin slotting itself into your palm. "Stay with me, then."

✧.*

A week passed. Iwaizumi wedged himself back into your life, with ease, after disappearing for five years. Your routine made room for him, now — grocery shopping, for two; breakfast, for two; laundry, for two. You did your best to ensure that he was comfortable, that the guilt from years ago would wash away. And yet, despite your efforts, he was cold. Distant, almost, even though he was around you all the time.

You feared the worst. That, while away, he realized how little he enjoyed your presence. That he wouldn't contact you again once he settled back in completely. That the silly feelings you had burrowed in the underwater reservoir of your heart would resurface, only to be shut down.

His voice in the kitchen pulled you out of your thoughts. You laid on the couch in silence, the calls of your name doing little to quell your worries. "I found an apartment close to my job," he muttered, the words blending in with the stream of water from the sink. "I'll be ready to move out within a few days. I'll let you know when."

"So soon?" you responded absentmindedly.

You watched him pivot towards you, his face blank but his eyes telling. "What do you mean?"

"I feel like I've seen you for such a small amount of time, and you're already leaving. Again." You sat up and met his gaze, calculative as ever. A sigh unleashed itself from his lips, the glass in his hands meeting the countertop.

"I don't want to rely on you too much," he whispered. "I can't. I just- I need to steady myself first." He nibbled at the flesh inside his cheek when you frowned. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to force you to take care of me. You don't have to do that."

"It's not a burden, really. I'm happy to be here for you, I'm happy to even see you after so long. I don't want you to feel like you have to rush yourself into everything."

Iwaizumi shook his head softly, his decision finalized long before the conversation had begun. He escaped to his room before you could protest. His heart sung of somber tunes and a loneliness he could not describe, a result of his never-ending guilt upon leaving you time and time again. He could not help the white hot tears staining his cheeks, nor the heavy breaths escaping his throat. Calloused hands pawed away at his eyes, and once again, Iwaizumi realized he had hardened himself far too much for your liking. He was always too far, too absent. He hated it. And yet, he felt it was necessary; he felt like he would lose himself if he allowed for a moment of rest.

"Hajime?" your voice called from outside his door. "I'll help you pack, okay? Just know I'm here. I'm always here."

He loathed how vulnerable you left him. He hated the fluttering in his stomach, the airiness in his head, the warmth of his skin from every word you spoke. It was a foreign taste on his tongue, one he wished to wash away every time it bubbled to the surface, but it haunted him endlessly. Distance would make him feel less weird, less weak, he figured.

Within a day, Iwaizumi Hajime had moved out of your apartment, this time leaving a small letter thanking you for your care and a bill that was much too unreasonable.

SUMMER, 2020

The heat beat down on your back in waves. Pinpricks of sweat cascaded down your back, evidence of your growing exhaustion.

In the heart of Tokyo, beneath a canopy of trees that accompanied each bustling building and towering skyscraper, a cafe nestled itself in the middle of a busy shopping district. You stood behind the bar five days a week, from nine to five, like clockwork. Akaashi Keiji — a face you barely knew from glances in high school — stood beside you every shift. He spoke minimally, save for rambles shared during late nights in which you were both tired and overwhelmed; all you knew of him was his career as an editor and his tendency to overthink. That was all you needed. Nothing more.

Iwaizumi's name hadn't left your lips since the day he left. The pieces of his being drifted away from you all too naturally. The lack of explanation left too much room for assumption — you believed he hated you or had something to hide from you, anything of that sort. But his existence lingered every now and then — mentions of his work on the news, an ad promoting the Men's National Volleyball Team, a post on social media with his account tagged in it. Efforts to abandon the taste of him on your tongue were all for naught, for he lived in every dusty corner of your life.

As if to haunt you once more, the television propped up on the wall featured his face, tanned and bright and sweaty, an interview about the team's upcoming match playing out on screen. You looked away. Akaashi's eyes followed yours.

"He talks about you sometimes," the boy muttered. His attention was drawn to the wet glass in his hands, his movements nearly robotic as he dried each curve and bump. "Bokuto tells me about it, on occasion. How your name pops up during practice for no reason whatsoever."

You tilted your head from its spot between your sweaty palms. "What does he say? About me?"

He placed the cup down on the counter, his wet cloth forgotten alongside it. Akaashi leaned against his back against the marble before explaining, "Lots of things, apparently. He says he feels bad for leaving you all the time, something along those lines. Bokuto says he never explains anything further than that, though."

You copied his position, the countertop cold against your back. Your jaw grew tense from how tightly you clenched it. The methodical fidgeting of your fingers against the hem of your shirt kept you calm, each thread of cotton consoling the ache bubbling in your stomach. "I hate that. I just- why can't he talk to me? Why does he feel the need to talk about me?"

Akaashi shook his head. "I don't know. Bokuto doesn't understand it either; he says its cuts into their practice time and it gets worse every other day." You didn't notice the drink he prepared for you in the midst of your conversation. The ice soothed your nerves, and you thanked him softly. "I don't think he hates you, for how much he talks about you. I think he just doesn't know where to put his feelings, or how to handle them."

His analysis forced you into silence. Quietly, you began to clean up the counter together, making room for the evening shift. The interview finally came to a close, and the screen flashed to an advertisement for women's hair care.

The bus ride home — which you routinely shared with Akaashi — was spent in thoughtful stillness. His words cycled through your mind, each statement making its rounds before settling in the depths of your chest. Your stop always came before his, and small waves of goodbye were shared before you began ascending the steps to your apartment.

Iwaizumi's contact burned brightly on your phone screen. You never did block him, despite your desperation to do so, in fear that he would contact you in any way. He never did.

You thumbed the call button, with hesitance. It rang three times in your ear before he picked up, the timber of his voice unfamiliar to you.

"What's up?" he answered, all too casually.

"Come over, please."

✧.*

You sat adjacent to him, cross-legged on the carpet in front of your couch. His knees were strewn up to his chests with heavy arms wrapped around them, akin to a child.

"Akaashi told me about you," you mumbled, the words tumbling out of your mouth in quiet jumbles. "He said you talk about me, a lot."

Iwaizumi looked at you briefly before turning his head away. "Yeah."

"Why do you keep leaving? Without saying anything?"

"I don't want you to see me at my worst," he began, his voice resolute yet wavering with anxiety. "I'm at my weakest when I'm around you. You don't need to see that."

Your lips parted, your shock plastered on your face. "I don't understand." He buried his head into his knees while you rambled on. "I just want you to be comfortable. That's all I've ever wanted — to see you truly at ease, at rest, for once. I don't mind." The words spilled too quickly, too rapidly.

An admission of your affection in the midst of your rant nearly slipped past him. His hands, once lost, found their way to your face, his marred skin rough against yours. Your speech died on your tongue, your breath cutting short and falling to a stop. "Hajime?" you whispered, and again, as always, your call of his name dissolved the composure ingrained deep within his bones.

His lips slotted themselves against yours, naturally, as if he were born to do so. The delicacy was alien to his being, for he had only known resilience for years upon years. As you had wished, he felt relaxed. At ease. Fragile, almost. He let go too soon, his hands returning to the ground and his eyes falling to the floor. An apology fell from his mouth.

He prepared himself for the worst. Instead, you smiled at him, toothily, and promised him that it would be okay. That he was allowed to be vulnerable. And finally, he smiled back, his lips curling up tenfold.

WINTER, 2022

Iwaizumi sat on your couch, his back heavy against the cushions. His arms stretched out before him, and under your gaze, each scar and bruise on his flesh was on display. A bottle of alcohol and a roll of gauze were propped up against your legs.

"How did this happen?" you questioned, a lilt of jest to your voice.

"Got into a fight with a guy," he mumbled, wincing only slightly when the alcohol dropped onto his wounds. "Not on the job, if that's what you're gonna ask. We were out and he said some stupid shit. Had to knock some sense into him."

"Uh huh," you muttered under your breath. You wrapped the bandage around his arm daintily, the pressure just enough for him to breath in. "And look where that got you."

He sighed at your remarks, opting to observe rather than retaliate. Your hands were soft, a contrast to his own, and each ghost of your fingertips against his skin left him dizzy. "All done," you exclaimed quietly. He watched as you stood up from your spot on the ground, all while scooping up each tool into your arms. You disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him alone in your living room, his arms covered with your gauze.

Iwaizumi Hajime was always rough around the edges. To be gentle was unfitting for him, and he had always lived in such a manner. And yet, around you, he found himself seeking fragility. He yearned for each tidbit of sensitivity and vulnerability you rung out of him, for he adored the smile that adorned your lips in return. He had learned delicacy from you. And that was more than enough.

[seelestars]

☆ the emortia flower. (jiyan angst)

a/n : i tried looking for a flower similar to the emortia, hopefully this white hyacinth is close enough hehe (*´∇｀*) i haven’t written in a while so sorry if this isn’t that good

“that’s such a silly idea! we’re both dying together of old age in the future, so there would be no need for me to plant a flower here for you!”

oh how it felt like yesterday when you were innocently naive and optimistic.

regret and sorrow seeps into every bone of your body. why would you say that? there was so much more you wanted—no, needed—to say to him. even if they were as little and mundane as where you should go for your next date, or something as big and important as your future together. you should’ve told him everything on your mind. there was never a need to wait.

because now, you don’t even have the chance to wait to tell him anything.

as you were planting the seed into the soil, you felt your tears you were previously unaware of fall into the ground and soak the earth. you could feel your lips and fingers trembling as you covered the seed with soil, kneeling there with puffy eyes. you were sure you’ve been crying for a long time, as you could feel your eyes and face burn painfully. yet… nothing was more painful than losing him.

“…of course. how silly of me.” jiyan had given you a slight nod, his brows slightly furrowed as he smiles fondly at you. though at that time, it was clear he had wanted to say more.

perhaps you both were the same when it came to that. always trying to wait for the perfect opportunity to speak your mind.

you wished both of you were braver, more confident when it came to voicing your thoughts.

maybe then, him slipping through your fingers would’ve hurt less.

you remembered it as if it had just happened a minute ago.

his limp body in your arms as you sobbed, hugging him tightly. “why would you take the hit for me?! you’re so stupid!” you cried, sadness and frustration filling your voice as you look at him. you couldn’t understand how he was still smiling gently at you, even though he was in so much pain.

“i’m sorry for being so stupid, then. i’m afraid… i won’t be able to make it up to you.” jiyan coughs, the blood from his open wound dripping onto your hands. he weakly puts his hand over yours, softly caressing your knuckles as he looks at you with tired eyes.

“no! you can’t die here! just… just wait! i’ll bring you to a medic!” your eyes widen at his implications, panic feeling your voice. …but unfortunately for the both of you, you were currently both on a mission where it just the two of you. the city was quite far from here. you knew it was likely you wouldn’t make it back in time, but you still naively held onto that hope.

with that, the life began draining from his eyes as he whispered his last words to you. “…i… love you. may we… meet.. again… in the.. after life.” immediately, you felt even more tears flow down your cheeks as you sobbed into his lifeless body.

life was cruel.

you should’ve seen it coming. after all, he was a general. positions like that usually came with a hefty price. you wished you had spent more time with him. you wished you had never lashed out at him over things you now viewed as insignificant. you wished you helped him more. you wished you had told him “i love you” more.

you could only smile sadly at the seed. he had told you of its name and meaning once, and you couldn’t forget about it since.

emortia, the flower he bred himself. the word meant both departure and return. it was a resilient flower, similar to how he was. but of course, all flowers wither in the end. all you could do now is make sure to take good care of this flower you planted in his honor.

[turcott3]

come home

adam fantilli x fem! reader

warnings?: angst, light cursing, fluff on fluff, kissing, crying, did i mention fluff

masterlist

-

“hello?” you hear your boyfriend groan through the phone.

“oh, i just realized what time it was. did i wake you?” you ask biting your lip, fighting back your threatening tears.

“yeah.”

“i’m sorry.”

“no no it’s okay baby, is everything okay?” he asks sweetly, in sleepy tone.

“not really,,, just miss you.” you say, letting a tear slip.

“i know, i miss you too.” he replies.

“come home, please adam.” you say softly, voice cracking lightly.

“my flight is in the morning, i promise ill be at your doorstep as soon as i can okay?”

“okay.” you pause, leading to a few long moments of silence.

“baby i can’t sleep.” you finally admit.

“do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.

“just go to sleep my love, i promise i’ll be home soon.” he says lowly, as soothingly as he can.

“okay goodnight adam.”

“g’night. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you reply, heart warming at finally hearing the sound of his voice. you hadn’t called him his entire trip, trying to give him his alone time with his family uninterrupted. even though he said you could call every evening. after a while of tossing and turning, just knowing adam was a word away was enough to send you off into slumber, before you know it, waking up to see adam still on the line.

“hello?” you grumble opening your eyes.

“morning y/n, our flight takes off soon, im glad you woke up because i was gonna have to hang up and i didn’t want you to wake up and i wasn’t there.”

“it’s okay babe, you could’ve hung up.” you say, eyes welling up.

“i just wanted to make sure you were okay.” he replies.

“i know.” you smile to yourself.

“okay i gotta turn my phone off, ill text you when we land.”

“okay, be safe adam.”

“always.” he replies before hanging up the line, texting you a simple red heart on imessage.

truth be told you just wanted adam home because you were struggling, just barely getting by. not making enough money, struggling in your summer class, and not being able to afford gas and groceries. you were overwhelmed. you hated that your parents were paying majority of your rent. you couldn’t believe this is what it’s come to. your roommates have no issue making money but when it came to you, you didn’t have a clue. you just wanted adam there so that all of those problems could disappear for a few hours. burying your stress temporarily so you could love on the one guy that has ever made you feel like you mattered.

you practically watched the hours tick by waiting for the text saying he’d landed. you knew tomorrow morning, or maybe tonight he’d be on the front step of your apartment and that held a little peace in your heart.

“i’ve entered this problem three different ways, what the fuck do you mean it’s not right still?” you yell angrily at your computer as you worked on your summer math class. every few minutes you flipped over your phone, waiting for “adam🤍” to be displayed on your lockscreen.

“fine you win.” you groan, slamming your laptop shut, a tear slipping from your eye. ever since you moved in, you felt insignificant. you weren’t a wimp, so you didn’t understand how people were still able to disrespect you. it almost felt purposeful, yet you didn’t know what you did to deserve it. tears pricked your eyes before streaming down your cheeks at a quick pace. you flipped your phone over and you finally saw the notification you had been waiting, a sigh of relief washing over your stressed body. you felt at ease for a moment knowing adam was a short drive away.

-

“hello.” you said quietly through the phone, sniffling your tears away.

“i’m on my way home, do you want me to come over tonight or tomorrow?”

“now. please.” you reply as your lip quivered.

“is everything okay hun? i’m worried about you.” he asks.

“no, but i don’t wanna talk about it over the phone.” you respond.

“i’ll be there as soon as i can, i promise.” he replies confidently.

“okay.” you sigh lightly.

“an hour tops.” he adds.

“i’ll see you soon adam.”

“very soon my love,” he replies, hanging up the phone. you sat on your couch staring into space an anxious and crying mess, waiting for his familiar knocks on your front door. you’d eventually stopped crying, the light taps coming just less than an hour after he promised.

“he-“ he starts and is cut off by you latching onto him.

“hi y/n.” he finishes, wrapping his arms snuggly around you, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. soon enough your cries returned, this time tears of relief mixed with your overwhelming sea of emotions.

“what’s wrong baby? what’s going on in that little mind of yours?” he asks gently, pulling away, keeping his hands on your waist.

“it’s everything. not our relationship of course but literally everything else.” you preface.

“okay,” he replies, urging you to continue.

“adam, i am struggling right now. with everything. i can barely afford to pay a portion of my rent because i don’t get paid enough and i don’t work enough hours. my parents are all but paying the entire thing. i can’t afford to get gas and groceries, i have to pick one or the other and even still the budget is so slim. my math class is kicking my ass. everything is just so stressful. and when you were gone i was all alone and didn’t know what to do.” you sob to him before he pulled you in for another hug.

“how long has this been going on angel? how long have you been letting your struggles build up?” he asks.

“at least a month.” you reply.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he coos, pulling away from you slightly.

“i didn’t wanna burden you. i didn’t think it would end up digging me a hole like this. i feel so stuck. i can’t even raise any kind of savings.”

“baby, nothing you could ever do would burden me. i’m here to help you, i’m here to catch you if you fall, i’m here to love you. i love you so much. i don’t ever wanna see you this torn up over anything.” he says softly, taking your face into his hands sweetly.

“i know, im sorry.”

“no don’t apologize, you’re struggling. i’m always here for you my love, i’ll take care of everything okay?” he says, looking deeper into your eyes than ever before.

“what do you mean?” you reply.

“the rent, the gas, the groceries. everything y/n. i’ll take care of it, i’ll take care of you. i’ll do whatever it takes to help you get on your feet. i don’t wanna see my girl struggling.” he finishes, running a gentle thumb over your cheek bone.

“i promise ill make it up to you.” you reply.

“no, you don’t need to do that. i’m doing this because i want to and because i love you, okay? it will make me feel better knowing that you’re completely taken care of and comfortable.”

“i love you.” you smile, adam kissing away the last few tears on your cheeks before finally pressing his lips to yours. the feeling of warmth spreading through your whole body. you missed his kisses and the way they made you feel like floating, butterflies flying through your stomach.

“since you’re paying can you at least….. move in with me?” you ask hesitantly after pulling away.

“if that’s what you want.” he replies.

“more than anything.” you smile back.

“there’s that gorgeous smile. god, i missed you so much.” he states, picking you up. your legs wrapped around him quickly, a giggle exiting your mouth.

“you can never leave again.” you stated as he sat down on the edge of your bed, your hips plopping in his lap.

“you’re coming with me next time baby, i wanna show you italy. i wanna show you the whole world if i can.”

“sounds like a dream.” you reply as he kisses you sweetly, bringing you the comfort you’d been longing for, for over a month.

you knew your struggles were long from over, but you knew you were protected and that he would never let you sink.

he truly loved you and that is one thing you would never change. never in a million years.

[queenaeducan]

In Defense of Spirits

Or, alternatively:

I. Introduction

Spirits are one of my favourite parts of the Dragon Age lore, but they didn't start that way! Initially with Origins the various demons I fought I considered little more than cannon fodder, enemies put in my way to cut down so I could move on with my mission. With the introduction of Justice in Awakening and Dragon Age II coupled with Merrill’s alternate perspective also introduced in the latter, my feelings about them started to change. Solas and Cole crack those feelings wide open come Inquisition, and when replaying the games I found myself questioning the motivations of encounters with people I once considered one-note enemies.

I wanted to compile a list of these alternate readings of the various spirits we meet throughout the series, starting first with Origins. I'll be detailing some common themes and, where it’s appropriate, to defend their actions. This list is not comprehensive as there are some encounters I don’t consider significant or interesting enough to mention, although if someone’s curious about a particular spirit I’m happy to oblige. For the purposes of clarity, if I use the word “spirit” I am still referring to all denizens of the Fade, whether they call themselves Pride or Compassion. I may use the word “demon,” as a treat.

The purpose of this retrospective is to reflect upon the motivations of the spirits we kill through the series and how I think Bioware successfully created a world where, in this instance, we were sucked into their preconceived biases regarding spirits. And hopefully to make you feel as bad as I do when I’m forced to kill spirits who probably are better people than my player characters. I am also not arguing that everything I put forth here was intended by the writers. I have the reach and flexibility to pull out threads they didn’t expect me to.

Finally, this won’t be an exhaustive examination. There are a lot of spirits and some don’t invite discussion on my part.

II. Analytical Lens

There are several recurring themes that will crop up when I’m recontextualising the motivations of the spirits throughout the series. We’ll be going over these in detail as we talk about individual spirits, but for now:

The Veil is a construct. There was initially no barrier stopping them from moving back and forth freely, and in many ways their desire to manifest physically outside the Fade is a natural inclination. The problem being that going there and back again isn’t as easy as it once was.

They don’t understand this world. Again, I think the presence of the Veil exacerbates this. Time and again we see spirits who do have enough will to manifest safely have difficulty adjusting. 

Trying to help hurts. Spirits can’t sicken with Blight or the common cold (that we know of), but intense emotions or cruel intentions can twist them from their purposes. Those who reach out in the honest urge to help may find themselves burned, sometimes through no fault of either party.

Their design encourages dehumanisation. For lack of a better word, considering this is a land of elves, dwarves, qunari, and so on. Many of the spirits we’re asked to empathise with are humanoid, with those we are at odds with being more likely to be monstrous or animal in design, making it easier to justify why we need to choose violence.

III. Dragon Age: Origins

Mouse

Mouse is among the first spirit players will meet in Dragon Age, depending on whether or not they play the Mage origin or not. Narratively he is meant to introduce the player to the role spirits often play in the lives of mages, that is to say: an evil that is not always self-evident. He tells a sympathetic lie, presents himself as someone who was once in a position like the protagonist currently is, and wants to make sure they don’t end up like him, only for it to be revealed that the entire reason he’s there is to possess them. At least, nominally that’s his role. A second pass at Mouse’s actions does raise questions as to his true intentions.

Throughout the test Mouse encourages two things within the protagonist: their self-worth and their questioning of the ritual. The former makes sense, he is ultimately revealed to be a spirit of Pride and so to stoke the protagonist’s own pride may inflate their confidence to a point where they can’t see the potential harm in dealing with him. Still, in a society where magic is feared and mages prisoners, there is something radical in encouraging that in someone. Especially when paired with remarks Mouse makes where he questions the logic of the Harrowing itself:

“It isn’t right they do this, the Templars. Not to you, me, anyone.”

This is one of the first things he says to you, and is one of the first pieces of Circle critical rhetoric in the entire series. From the perspective of the protagonist at the time, it would seem he’s referring only to apprentices, but is he? Spirits are drawn into the Harrowing as much as mages, ostensibly willingly with the promise of a body to possess, but we see in rituals such as the one that drew Wisdom into the world that the Circle isn’t above shackling spirits into doing their bidding, be it as a means of protection or garnering information. Once inside, they’re subject to the will of the apprentice, who have been taught to fear and mistrust the Fade since they were first brought to the Circle. So is Mouse expressing bitterness about the situation of the apprentices, or is he looking at the situation as being equally unfair to all involved?

Furthermore, what’s most interesting about Mouse is he never actually tries to possess you. He makes some requests, which Surana or Amell can’t agree to, but even if you avoid catching onto his game for as long as you can it never goes farther than that. He reveals himself as the final test and before the Harrowing ends he dispenses the to-be Warden a warning:

“Simple killing is a warrior’s job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust… pride. Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end.”

A piece of wisdom, if you will.

I don’t believe Mouse ever truly intended to possess you, although it’s impossible to tell if he truly would or not without the ability to agree to his bargain. He gives up the game too quickly, with the Warden only needing to vaguely doubt his story before he reveals it. By following the Warden through their Harrowing he helps them successfully bargain with spirits like Valor and Sloth and safely introduces the idea that not everything here is as it seems. Rather than being purely a Pride demon, I think Mouse is a spirit of Wisdom influenced by the Warden’s preconceptions towards what some might call the darker aspect of the values he represents. 

While I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that Mouse was exactly what we’re led to believe, nevertheless I believe it probable that spirits aren’t always gleeful participants in the Harrowing and that the rite is damaging to them as well as the apprentice mages.

Desire

We go now to another spirit from the Circle, specifically the Desire demon we meet in the Broken Circle quest. When we come across her she’s possessed a Templar and letting him live out a fantasy of having a wife and children. When the Warden and their party come across her, she argues that she’s giving him what he wants and doesn’t see the harm in it. Upon my first playthrough I took this as a lie and killed her, although it was difficult not feeling bad, as from the perspective of the enthralled Templar he died defending his family from bandits. To him the Warden was unequivocally the bad guy, and it’s tragic thinking about what his final thoughts might have been.

As for Desire herself, I think there’s an argument to be made that she simply didn’t see a difference between her making a life for herself and the Templar all within his head and a physical, lived life. We see in Inquisition especially, where we talk to more spirits, that the nature of the physical world is as alien to them as the Fade is to mortals. Command wonders out loud why the rocks do not move at her command, and Cole asks Varric to talk to his shoelaces for him because they “don’t listen to him.” They existed in a world where will mattered more and where dreams were real, so it stands to reason that to Desire there is no discernable difference between giving him what he wants for real and dreaming it.

Interestingly, you can choose to let them both go, and we get no indication of where they go from the Circle. Leliana also approves because she thinks what counts is that he’s happy. Personally I don’t feel there’s a right option in this quest as either leaves the Templar in a tragic spot, but I do think the Desire demon’s motivations aren’t as evil or manipulative as they seemed on my first playthrough.

Lady of the Forest

The Lady is perhaps the first spirit in the series given a more complicated character than “spirit good, demon bad.” We have Valor in the mage origin, Wynne’s spirit of Faith, etc, but they aren’t given much characterisation and their benevolent nature is taken as a matter of fact. We have a biased introduction to her, we see the damage she has done to Zathrian’s clan and hear his side of the story. We go into the forest to carve the heart from her chest.

But when the time comes to actually speak with her, his bias and deception is plain. She has all the trappings of a demon: summoned at a point of great tragedy, as a tool of vengeance, enacting a literal curse upon Zathrian’s enemies. Yet now she is an advocate for non-violent solutions, only compelled to violence by desperation (she sent letters but Zathrian left her on read) or by the player’s encouragement (potentially). I do think this was an end she worked towards, and didn’t come by naturally, saying to the Warden at one point:

“Then the time has come to… set our rage aside. I apologise on Swiftrunner’s behalf. He struggles with his nature.”

While she is speaking of Swiftrunnher, given she is the curse’s origin, I think the same could be said of her nature (as it is her curse). Zathrian implies much the same, saying to her:

“Your nature compels it, as does mine.”

I think it’s very likely that had we encountered the Lady those hundred years ago when she was first made, she would have been to our eyes a demon, rather than the semi-benevolent force of nature she appears as in-game. Interestingly, her outward nature doesn’t change if she is compelled to kill the Dalish. She isn’t thrilled, but neither is her nature twisted. She’s pretty quick to move on, afterwards. Of the major spirits in DA:O, I do think she is an outlier in the series. Killing her is the bad option, especially when a mutually beneficial solution is forced upon you. She also has a stronger presence of mind than many of the other spirits, perhaps accounting to her age and the fact that she is tethered to the world through not only Zathrian but her ‘followers.’ It’s fitting that the Dalish quest is the one where a spirit is presented not only sympathetically, but (as far as I can tell) exclusively referred to as a spirit whether they are doing right or wrong.

Rage

We meet many Rage demons in Origins, and throughout the series, but the spirit I’m referring to are the ones we meet in the Alienage’s orphanage. The recent site of a massacre, the orphanage is now home to a spirit of Rage who attacks those who enter. Rage, I thought, was a curious choice, when Despair and Terror exist. Although the fact that they probably didn’t want to make a new spirit model for this one sidequest would probably explain it on a development level, but then I wondered— whose rage?

The spirits don’t seem to embody the rage of the people who massacred the orphanage, or even the rage of the victims. They tell the Warden and Ser Otto that they “do not belong here” and one is furious that the party has killed “my brood.” I think the presence of the spirits here is indicative of how helpful or benevolent spirits can be twisted by the horrors of our world, that they were drawn by the misery of what happened at the orphanage and upon witnessing it they became enraged. They are ultimately protecting nothing, just an empty building that’s probably best torn down or cleared out, or whatever the elves of Denerim’s Alienage decide they need to properly mourn. Yet as we walk through the building the screams of children still play around us, it’s still happening for its current residents.

In the final encounter of the quest, the Rage demon targets and kills Ser Otto (assuming those mabari you encounter like two minutes in don’t get him first, like they do for me every time if I’m not paying attention) first out of your entire party. It makes sense, although his motivation was pure, he is representative of the human justice that allows horrors like this, and what’s more— how many orphans were taken from the orphanage’s midst by people wearing armour just like his, never to return?

The rage demons had every right to be angry, even if their anger manifested in a harmful way. The tragedy is that, outside of Denerim’s Alienage, most people weren’t.

IV. Other

These are spirits whose roles I don’t have much to say about, for one reason or another.

Kitty. I don’t have much to say about Kitty, who as a reminder is the spirit held captive in the basement of Wilhelm, the former master of Shale. Given Kitty can agree to not possess Amalia, content simply to be free of the basement, and then doubles back on that promise once you complete the puzzle, I don’t have the highest opinion of Kitty. However, can I do want to point out that Wilhelm held Kitty captive in his basement for decades for his research. Research which, by the way, was to find ways to prevent mages from becoming possessed. A little ironic that he essentially possessed a spirit to do so. I want to point this out only because I think it highlights how spirits are casually used by people and at no point do we stop and wonder what decades of being locked up in a basement outside of their intended realm of existence might do to someone, even a metaphysical someone.

Herren. The merchant and life partner of the blacksmith Wade, who may have made your Warden some nice armour from all those endangered dragons they killed. In the Darkspawn Chronicles Herren is fought— as a desire demon. Gaider says this is not canon, but he doesn’t even go here anymore, so instead I’d like to put forth the idea that Herren is a desire demon taken physical form who lives out his existence peacefully (if somewhat grumpily) with his eccentric husband. I have no evidence of this being a fact, in fact I have the opposite of evidence, but I like my version better, so.

The Grand Oak. I think everyone with a modicum of taste likes this guy, but I do think he's an interesting lens to look at how spirits in Elvhenan might have lived. I like to think all of them had a period where they just vibed as a tree for a hundred years or so.