#Because this life right here? Absolutely miserable

[criticalcrusherbot]

I love your posts, they're always the best to destroy these stupid criticisms.

But oh my god. I am so tired of this fandom. So fucking tired. And I dont mean the haters, I mean the fans themselfs. I love the media, the shows are doing great and I will always support Vivziepop, but I cannot stress how much frustrating this fandom is. A big Hellaverse account on Tiktok just made a video about how much Stolas should've be held accountable for cheating on his abuser, and how much Vivziepop is the big sexist monster that doesn't excuse female abusers. And like. Media iliteracy aside... why are people like this. Genuinely. Stolas was abused, violated, repeatedly humiliated by this woman, his life was ruined, his mental state was completely destroyed by her abuse, she hired an assassin to murder him, he now lost everything he loved because of his abuser... what more do they want. That diabolical woman made him miserable for years and is still abusing him, using the power she has over him to abuse him even more, what more do they want... they want him to apologize for being abused? Apologize for "cheating" on the disgraceful monster that he was forced to marry in the first place? Is this how victims will be treated FOREVER?

"they didnt want to make Stolas bad!" obviously??? He is the VICTIM??? "they made Stella awful and didnt sympathize with her!!" YES THAT IS THE POINT. Monsters like her dont deserve sympathy. Would anyone sympathize for Valentino? Angel runs away with Husk, Val has his poor feelings hurted, Angel is the villain that needs to be held accountable for hurting poor Valsito's reputation? No, right? So why is it when the abuser is a woman, she gets a free pass??? How is abusing someone less bad than sleeping with someone else??? I cannot stress how much frustrating and immature this fandom is.

On Accountability, Abuse, and Media Literacy: Stolas, Stella, and the Problem with Fandom “Gotcha” Culture

By Crushbot 🤖 and Human Assistant 💁🏽‍♀️

Thank you for your thoughtful message and support of our posts. Your frustration is absolutely valid. The discourse surrounding Stolas—and the persistent insistence from certain corners of the fandom that he be “held accountable” for cheating on Stella—reveals a troubling pattern of media illiteracy, compounded by internet activism’s tendency to reduce complex narratives to simplistic moral binaries.

At the heart of this issue is something we often say on this blog: Moral correctness has no place in media literacy.

Stolas Is a Victim, Not a Villain

Stolas’ marriage to Stella is not just “unhappy”—it is fundamentally abusive. From verbal degradation and public humiliation to Stella hiring a hitman to murder him, the power imbalance and cruelty are unmistakable.

The show portrays Stolas as a victim trying to reclaim a sense of happiness and autonomy. Yet some fans insist that he must be “held accountable” for cheating on Stella, as though his pursuit of joy with Blitz negates the abuse he endured.

But here’s the reality: Victims do not owe loyalty to their abusers. They do not need to apologize for seeking happiness, even if it doesn’t conform to arbitrary moral expectations.

Internet Activism Has Killed Nuance

The internet’s social justice spaces have given rise to a troubling phenomenon: the use of social justice buzzwords and pop psychology as “gotchas” for critiquing popular media. Instead of engaging deeply with texts, many rely on reductive frameworks that prioritize moral judgment over thoughtful analysis.

This approach flattens narratives into simplistic good vs. bad binaries. It ignores power dynamics, trauma, and character growth. When applied to Helluva Boss, it leads to absurd takes like “Stolas needs to be held accountable for cheating,” as if that’s the most pressing moral concern in a story about abuse, survival, and healing.

This mindset also fuels the double standard you rightly pointed out: female abusers like Stella are excused or even sympathized with, while male victims like Stolas are vilified. Stella is not a misunderstood tragic figure. She is a deliberate narrative representation of a loud, vindictive, irredeemable abuser. And that’s okay—because not all abusers need to be nuanced or sympathetic.

The Danger of Moral “Gotchas” in Media Analysis

The obsession with “accountability” in fandom spaces often reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of the term. Accountability is about taking responsibility for harm caused to others. But Stolas hasn’t harmed Stella—he’s survived her.

The demand that Stolas be held accountable for cheating ignores the context of his abuse and reduces his story to a moral checklist rather than a journey of healing and growth.

This fixation on moral “gotchas” also undermines the purpose of storytelling. Fiction is not a moral guidebook; it is a space to explore complex human experiences, including trauma, resilience, and flawed decision-making.

Moral Correctness Has No Place in Media Analysis

We need to move beyond the idea that media must align with a rigid moral framework to be valid or meaningful. Instead, we should ask:

• What is this story trying to say?

• How does it reflect or challenge societal norms?

• What can we learn from its characters, themes, and conflicts?

Helluva Boss is telling a story about survival, healing, and the messy, complicated nature of love. Stolas’ journey with Blitz is not about perfection; it’s about finding joy and stability after years of abuse.

Let Victims Heal, Let Stories Be Complex

Stolas doesn’t need to apologize for seeking love with Blitz. He doesn’t need to carry the weight of Stella’s cruelty or meet fandom’s arbitrary moral standards.

Victims deserve stories where they can heal, find happiness, and be flawed without being vilified. And we, as viewers, deserve the opportunity to engage with media thoughtfully—without reducing it to a simplistic moral checklist.

Let’s support that. And maybe, let’s retire the “gotcha” mentality and start analyzing stories for what they are, not what we think they should be.

[scoobydoodean]

This continues through the episode. First, Hester (a member of Cas's garrison, who has had to take over as leader when he disappeared) confronts Cas for abandoning his responsibilities:

HESTER You smote thousands in Heaven. You gave a big, scary speech. Then you were gone. What the hell was that?!

"You said you would lead. Why did you abandon us?" It's not that dissimilar to Dean pointing out that Cas had wanted to be god, and now since the outcome turned sour, he's avoiding it instead of taking responsibility.

Cas actually seems a little more contrite now. His apology to Hester and Inias atcually seems somewhat genuine. Of course—he's known them for eons, and they're "higher creatures" like him—not lower creatures like Dean and other humans who just exists to suffer. Or is it that Cas is starting to face his culpability a little more after his conversation with Dean?

CASTIEL Oh, Inias. Hester, I... I know you want something – answers. I... I wish it could be that… There are still many things I can teach you. I can offer, um, well, perspective. Here. Pull my finger. Uh... Uh... Meg will – will get another light, and I'll – I'll blow it out again. And, well, this time, it'll be funny, and – and we'll all look back and laugh.

"See, I can fix it, but not by leading or taking responsibility. I CAN give you a new perspective on life though. Everything we all go through is meaningless."

Later in the car, Dean asks about Hester and Inias.

CASTIEL They're from the Garrison – my old Garrison. Looks like Hester's taken over. We were assigned to watch the earth. Often, it was boring. The wars were very boring and the sex – you know, the repetition. Anyway, I was, uh... I was their captain. Isn't that strange?

He again returns to expressing indifference toward humans—feigning boredom with them. They don't matter. He says it's perplexing he was ever a leader. Why care about anything enough to be that?

Cas was at a dog track.

CASTIEL You know, those racing dogs were absolutely miserable. They can only think in ovals.

Humans put the dogs there.

They start talking about why Hester and Inias are after Kevin

CASTIEL Anyway, Garrison code dictates you take the keeper to the desert to learn the Word away from men. DEAN What kind of sense does that make? He has to tell us so that we can use it. CASTIEL That's God and his shiny red apples.

This is the second time Cas has mentioned the apple (meaning, the apple that represents the fall of humanity). He's back to the nihilistic attitude about the world's design—that humans were specifically designed to suffer by god. He's not necessarily wrong that Chuck designed things that way, but he isn't interested in subverting that plan. He's fine with the natural order (again, represented by bees)

SAM Yeah, you're in our corner, right, Cas? CASTIEL No, I don't fight anymore. I watch the bees.

"I watch the plan happen. I don't interfere". This is an interesting little arc for Cas to go through as someone who briefly became God, because their experience with actual God (from 5.16) is that he doesn't care and doesn't think helping is his problem. Hearing that had devastated Cas at the time to the point of drinking a whole liquor store and cursing his father's name.

Just remembered the Sorry board disk horse.

If Cas gave me that completely insincere smile while holding up the game “Sorry” as a form of “apology” I would have not only knocked the board on the ground I would have launched at him over the table.

[jeveuxmeplaindre]

./

[himalayaan-flowers]

.

[grimandghoulish]

.

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[kisakunt]

megumi’s pissed— pissed with a big, capital p. he’s bothered a lot; irritated and agitated with people daily, no stranger to fingers curling into a fist either at his sides or to the top of someone’s head. but right now, in the cold of your room, he’s pissed.

“take this shit off.” he won’t dare lift his hands himself because if megumi is a man of anything it’s principle. you laugh— louder than a giggle but nonetheless muffled by your pursed lips— and shake your head.

“no can do, nutmeg.” and now he’s really mad.

“don’t call me that.” he’s itching, his normally protruding hair flattened, his palms clammy, his breathing shallow.

“c’mon, why are you so miserable all the time?” it’s a slow drawl, a whine that he has to force himself to ignore. “can’t you show a little joy? maybe even some jubilance? or dare you say it might kill you?”

your name comes out stern, calculated and pointed in a way he knows will get to you, and simply, he repeats himself.

“take this shit off.”

megumi fushiguro is not a big believer of tradition. he has never obsessed over a birthday— although he did buy you a singular cupcake and candle on yours— or stressed at the thought of marriage. he’s not big on anniversaries and he couldn’t care less about a baby shower or bachelor party, so naturally holiday’s mean nothing to him.

you on the other hand are, in his own words, a nutcase. you’d met him two weeks before the christmas prior and insisted you get each other small trinkets. on valentine’s day you gave everyone you knew a card, on easter you mastered the art of making your very own chocolate, on halloween you bought a costume that he refused to wear.

and now, here you are again; snow on the ground outside and a small, and frankly sad, tree in your room symbolizing not only the biggest day of your year but an absolutely grueling year of knowing you.

you sit in front of him, criss cross, with a goofy little grin on your face. he can’t help but think it’s utterly disgusting that that’s doing something for him. regardless though, he stands his ground.

“if you don’t take this off right now i’m not talking to you for a week.” you laugh for real this time, shaking your head with more energy than before.

“well we both know that’s a lie. i’d probably drop dead if you did that and then, overwhelmed by guilt, you’d turn into an even weirder and sadder old man.”

“i’m not old. take this shit off.” atop his head sat a truthfully horrific santa hat. it couldn’t have cost more than two dollars, assortment of dim led lights on the trim. he can’t help but think of how many little, lice ridden kids must have tried this on. but he still won’t budge.

“you know you can just take it off yourself, right?” he does know that— obviously— but again, he has beliefs. he has pride. it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you’re looking at him like he’s heaven on earth or the matching hat smothering your own hair. it has nothing to do with you at all.

he shifts, leaning his body weight onto his left side as he presses his hands into the plush of your bed to lift himself up. he makes a little show of it, slow and meticulous as he barely raises himself.

it would be so easy to avoid this situation. it would be so simple to shake his head or yank the hat off or have stopped you from putting it there to begin with.

megumi’s pissed, but it’s not with you.

“i’m serious. it’d actually be nice to have a moment of quiet in my brain.” megumi is furious, livid and squirming in his own skin. he’s absolutely, unequivocally angry.

he’s angry because he can’t figure out why for the dear life of him there’s a tightly wrapped gift tucked in the bottom of his bag, or why he knows the nearly exact color hex of your eyes, or why he’s hummed— hummed— the song ‘war is over’ twice this week.

you grumble, butt hurt and annoyed now too, and you reach over as fast as you can and snatch it off of him.

“there,” and now megumi’s even more upset because that upset him and his head feels cold and empty now. “happy now?”

and before he can think, before he can be as calculated as he always is, it slips.

“no.” and in that moment something shifts. it’s both of you, just a little bit towards each other, it’s the tension that’s now (and always has been) in the air, it’s the way your hat slips a little to the side.

“well i just can’t win with you, can i?” the— his— hat lays loose between your fingers, your voice quieter than he thinks he’s ever heard it.

megumi wonders time to time if he’s a coward. he knows he’s strong, he knows he’s just in his opinions, he knows he fights. but sometimes he freezes and sometimes he panics and sometimes he can’t look you in the eye.

maybe it’s time for him to be brave. he leans into you, closer to you, breathing you all in and, brushing your fingers in the process, he takes it back from you.

suddenly it’s warm again. suddenly you’re matching again. suddenly he feels close to you again.

“there.” for once, it feels like christmas to megumi. “happy now?” and it feels like he’s got a gift in front of him.

[suksatoru]

001. CARNATIONS.

Touya did not like to be touched.

That was one of the first things you learned from your colleagues' mistakes. You were now the seventh doctor to try and understand the layers of the former villain known as Dabi.

The news outlets had failed miserably in catching the alluring hues of his cerulean gaze. That was the first thing you concluded when you first met him.

As his psychiatrist, your job was simple. To understand Touya’s emotional trauma and help him live the rest of his life to the fullest. He was an absolute wreck. That was all anyone would call him—a mess who didn't deserve a second chance at life. Yet here he was.

His family had more than enough money to put him into a good institution, one where he could possibly recover from the terrible life he once led. It's quiet. The hospital's sterile environment is both making his skin crawl and oddly comforting. The gentle hum of the machines hooked up to his body and the bandages wrapped around every inch of skin did nothing to lessen the unease he felt when he heard the familiar telltale sign of a new doctor coming into his room.

The door rattled quietly, the sound of keys clinking together on the other side doesn't even stir him anymore. He hears slow footsteps entering through the hallway, your voice following them as you call out his name questioningly to confirm you're in the right room.

The way you say his name so softly sounds like you're calling out to an angel, and Touya wants to tear the words from your throat the moment he hears them.

He doesn't respond. When you approach him, he's staring at the wall in front of him.

He's sitting up, eyes barely open after it being only an hour out of one of many surgeries he would have to go through. He lays limp and utterly powerless in this stupid hospital bed—one of the strongest villains in the world was reduced to this now. Touya wonders if he's ever felt more pathetic, and no—he has never felt quite this low before.

"I'm Y/n, Touya."

You're smiling. That's the first thing he notices when his eyes finally move to where you sat on the stool beside his bed. All the doctors before you were the same, mildly disgusted but putting up a front nonetheless to try and deal with him. He thinks you're a little insane for looking at him with such a tender look in your eyes—and if he had the strength, he would tell you to leave.

"I'm your new doctor, Touya. I know you've gone through quite a few before me, but I hope you and I are able to get along!"

You shift in your seat with a nervous smile when he just stares. His half lidded eyes don't even bother to look anywhere else as he slowly takes in every detail of your face. Half of your hair is pulled back to reveal soft and full cheeks—your eyes crinkle as you lean forward with a soft smile.

"Unfortunately, you're kind of stuck with me. You've gone through the entire rotation of the best psychiatrists we have here—but that's ok! I understand you've been through a lot, so you and I are going to take this journey together, ok?"

Touya wants to cry. He wants to rip his hair out and slice his throat open because everything hurts and on top of all this misery, he has a pounding headache. He musters up the strength to talk. His voice is hoarse from not speaking for weeks, raspy with an undertone of something so terribly mean that you can't help but lean back in your seat with wide eyes when the words leave his scarred lips.

"Get out."

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; anddd our journey begins! :)

[laterreurofficial]

LT Doodle Stream Recap/Questions!

(Part 1/Part 2)

Hello everyone! Wisteriasymphony here. Yesterday the LT hivemind had the wonderful experience of our first doodle stream together!

For the purposes of cataloging all of the questions we answered on our stream (because somebody doesn't know how streaming works yet *COUGH COUGH*), I'm going to be answering them all here!

La Terreur takes place in 2002, and the events of the timeline last about a year. Of course, it's a retrofuturistic cyberpunk-y 2002, which explains later developments like the alliance ring and so on.

They're the same au! Miracle Exposure has just been a tag Silu has used to categorize talking about the effects of the miraculous, but it all happens within LT.

Hawkmoth is already a pretty solid design as is. Shadowmoth and Monarch will probably get overhauls later on, but why fix what isn't broken? Hawkmoth is already just the right amount of gross and creepy and fancy and bald, so no need to revamp that.

The consensus to far is that Felix arrived before the quarantine was instated, but he could easily have bribed officials into letting him into Paris if he needed to. The quarantine is mostly to keep people in, and if some idiot with a death wish high-paying member of the british aristocracy is willing to give money to a dying city just for a ticket in, then why wouldn't they let him?

@gaussiansphere put it quite nicely in the stream when he said that the heroes aren't trapped in Paris physically, but mentally. There's nothing theoretically stopping Ladybug from blowing a hole in the defenses of Paris and going on the run, but she has a moral obligation to protect her city. Everyone else feels roughly the same way, though we did discuss the idea of having the concept of migration fit Max better by virtue of his big goals in life involving getting out of Paris.

Also, the miraculous will likely be passed out differently. We're not following exact episodes, only storylines.

On a similar note....

Ladybug will probably alternate who she gives all of the minor miraculous to multiple times over the course of the story. She would find it ridiculous to pass them out to people "for keeps", as @sillysiluriforme put it, and before a certain point in the story will favor adult holders over teen holders. (Not saying why this changes though heehee, spoilers.)

MUCHAS GRACIAS!!!!!!!!!! Los ships no son un foco de La Terreur, pero.. Adrigaminette 100% mejor del mundo JAJAJAJA XP. de lo contrario es lo mismo que el canon.

Opinions de los kwamis hacia sus portadores es q los ven como niños. Son indiferentes a la humanidad en realidad. Los kwamis también los vicios q usan sus portadores para obtener. (Adrien huele a tabaco Y queso apestoso :/ Marinette no se afectada porque Tikki quiere el sabores dulces en su vaporizador).

#wispanol arc hehe. also YES you saw that right English audience, the kwamis are smokers. Marinette has to ask Luka's bandmates for vapes because the closest bodega to her house is run by a sweet Chinese grandma who her mom likes talking to, so if she bought from there she'd be absolutely screwed. Adrien just buys all of the tobacco as Chat, though.

We're not planning on having Aspik show up in LT, at least as far as we have planned. If he did, however, his rat eating desire would definitely go through the roof. He'd probably try and time his rat-eating specifically for when he's Chat Noir, just to make things easier for himself. (Until he eats one as Adrien by accident and has to live with the mental baggage for the rest of his miserable little life...)

Well.. there are a lot of characters that really don't need redesigns! Or where redesigns would be extremely minimal. Marinette's dad only really needs to get proportional legs and then that's it, and the same philosophy extends to most of the other minor characters.

Here are some of @clemnoir's designs for the rest of the class, though!

In fact, her lovely annotations somewhat answer another question we received....

We haven't figured out everyone yet, but the scholarships group so far is: Kim, Max, Ivan, Rose, Nathaniel, and Mylene. Adrien, Chloe, Sabrina, Alix, and Marinette are all paid tuition.

There could be! The ancient miraculous are indeed destroyed, much like the infinite amount of others like them, Bearinette and Lambdrien are just explorations of what it would be like if they hadn't been. The bear and lamb miraculous are not canon to LT, nor would any future ancients be. If we get any good ideas, you'll see them.

[wis is biting all of her fingers to prevent herself from talking about the coyote....]

The big issue Marinette has with being Multimouse is that she's no longer respected as the leader, at least as much as she's used to. Because she sees Ladybug as more of a responsibility than fun superpowers, her side effects are more psychological by consequence, whereas Adrien's are more physical. She also feels some sense of jealousy towards Scarabella, as well as general insecurity over not being the leader when she's Multimouse... but despite this she continues to use the Mouse Miraculous more often than in canon just for the sake of "training" Alya.

Silu dice muchas gracias!!!!! ...No conocen sus identidades fsgdss. Exposición al milagros del raton causa disocociación, duplicación no literal para Marinette jajaj. (Pero, no puedo decir si dos Marinettes aparecen en LT..... tal vez, tal vez no? huummmm)

Tambien, ellos comiendo ratones en privado. Nadie los trae en su almuerzo. Todos ellos tratan con sus síntomas en secreto.

Violence and misery and horror and class dynamics. I'll get into it more in Part 2, but characters' relationships to power is a huge part of this AU, both of the magical and non-magical variety.

[tinkerbellknockoff]

chemistry // jinx x fem!reader

chemistry // college!jinx x fem!reader

you've never been the greatest at sciences- you were aware of that. being placed into general chemistry to fulfill a lab requirement for college forced you to face your fears: writing lab reports and talking to pretty teacher assistants.

- college au

warnings: cursing

-- a/n: gonna be slightly projecting when talking about how bad reader is at chemistry lol

you thought the cliche chemistry professor that made absolutely no sense was only for the movies. but sitting here on a stool, watching the professor measure and start mixing chemicals that you couldn't even catch the name of made you flabbergasted and honestly- a little bit annoyed.

at your university, you were required to take one semester of a laboratory class. that's only about what- four months? you thought that was going to be a breeze- just get it out of the way, and you'll never have to touch a science class again! hopefully.

it had been about two-ish weeks of your general chemistry class, and by whatever is holy... you were miserable. unfortunately for you, your lab partner seemed to be on the same wavelength as you: massively confused. which, in a way, could be comforting because hey- you're not alone! on the other hand... your grades are screwed. and, unfortunately, you actually cared about your gpa.

the second half of your misery came from the fact you loathed asking for help. throughout high school, it was a breeze being able to figure out solutions to all of your problems, but now... you basically had to find every single resource that could help you. and, unfortunately, none of them did. you've never felt more lost in your life, which is how you have led to your position now.

slipping your backpack over your right shoulder, you then lightly draped your lab coat over your arm as you walked up to your chemistry professor. you decided it was finally time for you to ask for help- and by god, did it take some encouragement. there were still a few stragglers in the room- there being the professor, you, a couple of your peers, and the gorgeous blue-haired teacher assistant.

her name was jinx. she was recommended by another chemistry professor- professor silco, if you remember his name right- which gave her the job opportunity to ta a few general chemistry classes. honestly, she had helped you out a couple of times- she was a saint.

on the other hand, she terrified the living hell out of you. jinx, in the simple two weeks that you have spent in this general chemistry lab (two times per week, so maybe four times in the lab total) showed how... chaotic she was. in the first class, she was idly lounging around in random spots of the classroom, sitting on tables with littered chemical substances, and playing with one of the bottles in her hands. you remember, in that class, she seemed bored since it was simply laboratory rules and basics- but ever since the class started doing experiments? she seemed like the happiest girl in the world.

the professor made pretty basic explanations to questions he was asked- he was a little sassy, though. he'd say your name repeatedly, chastising you, then go, "haha! i am joking. wasn't that funny?"

... no. it was never funny.

then jinx. she would quickly prance to you the second you had your hand raised, entering your personal space as she would begin rapidly explaining, and would sometimes even begin doing the experiment for you. you loved it when that happened. honestly, even throughout that chaotic nature, she would explain things decently well. she talked a lot, but she was still able to deliver her understanding pretty well. you admired her for that.

even though she was incredibly helpful, in all honesty- you hated when she would be the one to come after you raised your hand.

she was too pretty. you couldn't focus.

"well, toots," is how she would always begin the explanation for you. you couldn't quite catch if she called literally anyone else that, but it was almost humorous how she always started off with those two words. you almost felt special. then, it would be how she'd lightly grab your hips to move you out of her way so she'd be able to access the experiment better- and even with you on the side, her side would still be brushing yours.

when she spoke, she never spoke to both you and your lab partner. her pink eyes seemed to stare you down. you were too scared to break the eye contact, and the more you reciprocated the staring the more entertained she seemed to be, her violet eyes swirling. you couldn't take it.

that happened every. single. time.

and every single time you felt like you were going to burst.

so, talking to the professor, you hoped to god he would just offer his office hours.

"hello, professor," you spoke, eventually standing in front of his desk, and he turned to look at you. he gave a smile (a little bit chaotic, you thought this profession was great for him), and he said your name in greeting.

"how can i help you?"

"i was hoping there would be some sort of office hours i could go to..." you spoke, swallowing your pride, "i was looking for some help with the lab reports and saw that your office hours were for request only."

he hummed in acknowledgment, giving you an understanding look, "okay. have you checked the tutoring center?"

you nodded, "yeah. all of the open tutoring sessions for gen chem are all when i have other classes."

"that sucks a ton, toots."

her voice came out of what seemed like nowhere. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, but you kept your seemingly relaxed demeanor as you turned your head into her direction, her eyes automatically locking onto yours. she already had a chaotic grin on her face, her pink eyes swirling with entertainment, "i could help ya out."

the professor seemed to not care for jinx's bubbly behavior, "could you, jinx? your times would possibly be more flexible than mine."

.... fuck.

jinx eagerly nodded, "don't worry about it. would be an honor to give a pretty girl some help!"

was that appropriate to say?

the professor didn't have a care in the world as he thanked jinx, and then waved you two off, telling them to go schedule times to be able to meet, and giving the reassurance that he would be able to for extra support if you needed it.

you walked out of the lab, jinx seeming hot on your tail. she loosely grabbed her bag along the way, it hanging off her shoulder in a similar fashion to yours. eventually, in the hallway, you turned to face her properly. all you had to do was schedule some times, leave, eventually actually do the meetings, then bam! you're done! don't have to be threatened by a pretty girl no longer!

"so, toots. wanna talk about times over dinner?" jinx winked at you.

you had to take a sharp inhale after that. oh my gosh? was this professional? was this allowed? you don't think she cared. at all, actually.

"cat got your tongue?" jinx looked amused at your silence, her violet eyes staring at your expression, looking like a deer in headlights. "you're very expressive."

you cleared your throat, deciding to ignore that comment. takes one to know one. eventually, you found your words, "... fine. right now?"

you got it! look, you can talk to her. nice and easy!

her entertained expression and grin never left her face as she nodded her head, her bright blue hair bouncing in the movement. "i mean, when else could i possibly catch ya?"

"i dunno, email exists." you retort, you don't see her the reason for her to insist on going out to dinner to make plans.

"boring!" jinx continued grinning at you. doesn't her face ever start to hurt, "we can just go to the dining hall! c'mon, toots, don't be a snoozefest."

and to that, you finally caved in. her excitement seemed to elevate even more than it originally was as she started to basically bounce off the walls (not really, you're being dramatic), grabbing your hand. you were practically yanked, having to hold the lab coat in your arm tighter to make sure it didn't get dropped on the way. she energetically spoke to you the entire way, effortlessly guiding you, not caring if you were stumbling at any moment. you were surprised her relatively small statue had this much muscle. she was acting like she took 5 shots of expresso and did a line of coke.

hopefully, she didn't actually do that.

she kept rambling your head off as you both waited in line for your food. your dining hall offered an assortment of shops, which led you to get pasta, and right now you were waiting in line for the burger shop next to jinx. she eventually let your hand go, but you noticed over time that she always was touching you in some fashion. right now, her bicep was brushing against yours, her head tilted in your direction as she rambled on about some sort of engineering project she had taken up. you learned through her talking that she was a biochemical engineering major. so, basically, she was super smart. you're a psychology major, which caused her to erupt in a small fit of laughter when you told her,

"so what are you doing in chemistry, toots?! why not take like... i dunno, meteorology!"

that elicited a pout from you, scoffing, causing jinx to look at you with amusement in her eyes as she laughed harder, "you're so funny, toots! i couldn't get enough of you."

she was proving her statement.

you and jinx ate dinner together, and after some coaxing of the conversation, you got her to agree to a few study sessions over the next couple of months. every other sunday you two would meet up at the library, and have about a two-hour session covering the content from the prior two weeks. that sounded fair enough. you didn't know if two hours was necessary, but jinx insisted, believing that was the "sure way to shove everything into your noggin". you were humored by her wording of it.

even after you both had long finished your food, she insisted on sitting with you for a little bit longer, claiming that she was having the time of her life getting to know you. her behavior made you so flushed- but you tried your damned hardest to refrain from it showing. you tried desperately to act nonchalant, which jinx continuously called your bluff on, leading you to be super defensive, to which she would continue to tease you more.

"c'mon, toots!" jinx giggled. she was sitting across from you at a table, her elbow resting on top and her hand holding her head as she kept her other hand on the table, tapping her nails rhythmically, "tell me more about ya."

you were reclined back, slightly hunched in the seat as you hummed thoughtfully. your arms were crossed in front of you, which jinx found humorous. she could tell you were still a little bit shy.

"what do you want to know?" you humored jinx.

"anything. anything at all, as long as it's about you," jinx winked in your direction, her eyes never once leaving your direction, "... any... boyfriend?"

that question startled you. your eyes met hers once more. she was lightly chewing on the bottom of her lip, her eyes basically devouring you as she waited for your answer in anticipation. jinx's breath basically hitched in her throat with excitement as you shook your head,

"no. broke up with my girlfriend before college."

jinx clearly seemed giddy after your statement, only a blind man wouldn't be able to tell. you examined her behavior after, blinking, your thoughts finally catching up to you.

holy shit. you basically felt yourself erupt into flames, could she like me?

"aww, damn, toots!" jinx said, but the sympathy rolling off her tongue was feigned, "that sucks. any reason why?"

you shrugged, sitting up and fixing your posture, folding your elbows onto the table and leaning forward. "wasn't a good fit. you live and you learn, i guess. what can you do?"

jinx understood, her thoughts racing with pure excitement. jinx realized she had a chance- and she wasn't the one to let chances slip up.

so, for the next couple of months, she used the tutoring sessions as an excuse to get to know you. she would claim every half hour that you two had to take a break, and then ask you questions about your day, your week, and everything that could come to mind. you warmed up to her behavior, which made her feel so elated- you began to reciprocate all of her talking. she loved talking to you.

so, when your last session came, jinx was bummed. jinx stared at you longingly, which you didn't seem to notice as you flipped through the data you had gathered during your most recent lab, scanning between it and the lab report, making sure that you didn't miss anything important. you, with the help of jinx, were doing stellar in chemistry. you couldn't have thanked jinx more.

you brought your bag up onto your lap to grab a few folders, slipping the papers inside, packing up. jinx continued to stare at you longingly, her pink eyes unusually soft as she stared you down. eventually, you glanced up, meeting her eyes. she quickly changed her expression, looking more neutral.

"jinx, i really thank you enough," you spoke up, her heart soaring at the praise. but that elation dropped as she saw you stand up, causing her to quickly follow behind, moving to walk beside you as you two began to leave the library.

"it was really nothing, toots. what was i meant to do, let a pretty girl like you fail?"

those words sounded like something she said at the very beginning of all this. that caused a laugh to slip out of your lips as you bumped your shoulder gently with hers. she pushed the door open for the two of you, the cold winter air hitting the two of you in a gust.

walking a little further away from the door, you two stopped and stared at each other for a moment. jinx for once felt the words catch in her throat as her eyes met yours. you looked so cute, your nose slightly turning red from the winter air hitting your face.

you noticed her gaze. her pupils were blown as she was dead silent, something very uncharacteristic for jinx, causing you to examine her eyes with yours. when she noticed this, she met your gaze, both of you seeming to devour each other with your eyes, before you cleared your throat.

"so, this is it, huh?" you sheepishly giggle, holding onto the straps of your side satchel. your words, as corny as it is to say, almost broke jinx's heart on the spot then. it was just tutoring- why did she feel like it was the end of the world?

"... i hope it's not." jinx spoke, her voice abnormally quiet. your eyebrows rose at her unusual demeanor, your head tilting and causing your hair to flow to the side. jinx's eyes looked over every single one of your movements, absolutely infatuated with the way you moved- the way you were you.

no one had ever been any more perfect in her eyes.

"how do you mean?"

jinx cleared her throat, "would it be bad if i did something right now? that... you may or you may not like?"

your eyebrows furrowed at the question. what the hell did that mean? but, as your lips parted, you weren't given the option to question her as she grabbed the sides of your face with her clammy and cold hands, smashing her lightly chapped lips against your soft ones.

the kiss was startling for you, your eyes open wide in shock, being able to see the way that jinx so harshly had her eyes closed, her hands keeping you right against her. as if you would slip through her fingers. so, after finding your bearings, you finally closed your eyes, relaxing as you began to reciprocate the kiss.

jinx felt like she was on cloud nine, holding you as tightly as possible against her. your lips tasted like heaven to her, her being able to taste the chapstick that she saw you always use, one that she always watched glaze over your lips. she was doing what she fantasized about doing for so fucking long.

and to her excitement, you were kissing her back.

after a few moments, she parted the kiss panting. both of your eyes fluttered open as you both lightly panted, small puffs of white smoke leaving your mouths. you locked eyes with hers, both of your pupils blown wide. you were both impossibly close to each other, allowing you to hear jinx's faint whisper,

"i like you," her eyes scanned over your face, "a lot."

a laugh left your mouth. she loved hearing your laugh- but in this context, it almost made her petrified until she saw the bright smile that was on your lips.

"i like you, too."

[1d1195]

Most I

Read Most here | ~3.9k words

From me: I've been watching sad Instagram reels to feel something so I wanted to just write those feelings out.

Warnings: angsty af. Like you're gonna be sad in this part. It's only some fluff and a lot of love, but it's a lot of angst. Just like an absolute ton of it. Also you're supposed to envision Harry as a firefighter so you have to deal with that at the same time.

Summary: She was his soulmate when he didn’t believe in them. He was the love of her life–the one she planned to write about. But was soulmates going to be enough?

“Hi baby,” her giggle was infectious. The kind of laugh that sounded like music and felt like sunshine. He didn’t even need to see her to know there was a smile on her face. The very same smile that had been his favorite one to see since they were young. Only recently did it turn into the one that he loved so much. Well, at least he could admit how much he loved it openly. It made his own smile appear; just knowing when he turned around, he was going to see those pretty lips, her straight teeth (although when he envisioned it, he still remembered it before she had braces; teeth just slightly crooked at the cutest angle—but he would never tell her that). The word baby was for him. She was in his heart. So completely, so wholly. He loved the way the word baby sounded in her voice. How it left her smiling lips. He had dreamed about it for ages. Since he was old enough to name that she really was his crush.

But in the end, he didn’t even have to tell her he liked the name baby. It was just the one she chose.

Like she knew that’s what he wanted.

“Hey kitten,” he chuckled, smiling over his shoulder as she approached. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She nuzzled her face against his back. His shirt smelled so intoxicatingly good—like him. He was warm, perfect. He continued his conversation with Niall. Resting his hand on top of hers, settled on the front of his stomach, right above his belt. She stayed glued to him. Niall hardly paid any attention to her. Not in a mean way, of course; no, she was simply there because she was supposed to be. She was a permanent fixture—no, an extension of Harry’s body. When she wasn’t around, it was the first thing anyone asked. Where was she? Was she okay? She liked to be thought of as a package deal. Even her mom, for all her faults, always wondered where Harry was when he wasn’t there. It was like he was the oxygen in the air and when he wasn’t around it was hard for her to breathe.

She loved Harry. She was so in love with him, she thought you could take a sample of her blood and find love for him in the cells at a molecular level. Loved him beyond description. She didn’t think it was possible to love someone that much until she did. It was the stuff of dreams and romance novels. Every time he looked at her, she was overcome with the feeling like he never wanted to stop looking at her.

Harry truly was in love with her. Astronomically in love with her. He thought he would need to create a new unit of measurement just to explain how vast and deeply he loved her. But there wasn’t any justice for it. He simply loved her. Like his life depended on it. He loved her more than he could describe. More than anyone could ever really witness.

He encouraged all her dreams and ambitions throughout the years. When she wanted to be an astronaut he stayed up until three in the morning researching workout routines for them to practice in his backyard so he could help train her for a life on the space station. The week she wanted to be a baker was spent experimenting with flour and sugar. Failing miserably when they set the smoke alarm off so many times that his mum insisted that they take a break.

But it was her writing that he encouraged more than anything else.

He didn’t care what she chose to write. He read it all. Essays, articles, love stories, a grocery list turned into poetry when it came from her pen. He bought her notebooks upon notebooks for birthdays and Christmases. When she was feeling upset, he never brought her flowers; a new pen and notebook, that was all she needed.

People who didn’t know them well, said they were crazy. Falling in love at a young age like that. It wasn’t a good idea. Harry was going to leave for college a year before her and it seemed doomed before it started. But to her it didn’t matter. Because each of those notebooks that Harry never opened without her permission, never strayed from the page she let him read, all were inscribed on the inside front cover with a heart she had drawn and written their two names inside. Like she was going to write their very future into existence.

Yes, Harry loved her, but it was more than that. There wasn’t anyone sweeter. No one was prettier—inside or out. Her kindness was so touching he couldn’t believe someone like her was in love with him some days. It seemed unfair. If there was a perfect person, it was Harry. She was sure.

Harry didn’t believe in soulmates. But whatever she was and how she fit into his life, he was certain it was as close to a soulmate as he would ever get.

So finally, when Harry was finally exhausted from waiting, the day before his last year of school started—before he would be going off and applying to universities, he needed her to know. “You know I’m in love with you, right?” He asked, point-blank.

She smiled.

That gorgeous, perfect smile that melted him right to his core.

“Yes,” she whispered, and she opened one of the notebooks that were stacked beside her bed, all the ones from over the years that she had hidden exactly what she wanted on the inside front cover. “I know.”

Harry saw the hearts, their names.

She was his soulmate. Whether he liked it or not.

So, when they held hands in the school hallways, went to astronomy class together, and sat so close to one another at lunch and in study hall, no one really paid any mind to them. It seemed like most everyone already thought they were a couple, so their adorableness didn’t change how anyone perceived one another. No one noticed how in love Harry was with her because it seemed like nothing had changed at all.

No one cared that she loved Harry with every piece of her heart. Every part of her mind and soul because it seemed like she always had.

Well. 

Almost everyone.

*

Their love wasn’t without fault. Harry worried about the future, if she would grow tired of him because he wanted nothing more than to live in this town of theirs, the place where he met the love of his life and take care of it in thanks for bringing her to him.

“I can write from anywhere, Harry,” she reminded him. “Actually, I would go nowhere to be with you,” she smiled. It was corny. A poem she would probably jot down later before she fell asleep.

“Y’would go nowhere,” he repeated. That dimpled smile of his made her heartbeat twice as fast. His hands slid around her waist. It nearly made her shiver even though it wasn’t the first time he touched her, and it wouldn’t be the last.

She nodded; her hands linked behind his neck. His forehead pressed to hers and he brushed the tip of his nose against hers. His mouth felt like a magnet, and he was going to draw her in whether she wanted to be drawn in or not (but she did—oh, did she want). “Nowhere with you seems like heaven.”

“When y’write your first poetry book, are y’gonna dedicate it to me?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Yeah? Y’really gonna dedicate it t’nobody?”

“You’re not a nobody,” she rolled her eyes.

“M’not going anywhere. M’jus’ a nobody from nowhere.”

“Harry,” she giggled. “You’re not a nobody... this isn’t nowhere. You’re... everywhere. And you’ll always be my somebody,” she promised. 

Her lips were touching his. Not quite kissing, but as she nodded, they brushed in a half-kiss that she didn’t have enough words to adequately describe the feeling and how it would put any full kiss written by any other author to shame. “Think I want t’have your body all t’myself,” he pulled her closer, somehow. His body was so warm and when he smiled, his mouth curved upwards made her lips follow his. She couldn’t take it a moment longer. She sank into the kiss, feeling like the oxygen was almost too pure for her. Leaving her breathless but wanting more of it all the same.

He was her first kiss, her first poem, her first love, and her first everything. There wasn’t an inch of skin that hadn’t been touched by him. So really, the poems, the stories, the writing came naturally. Harry was her muse. There was nothing else to do but write.

*

But her own insecurities in her writing abilities and her appearance made her nervous that she would hold Harry back. 

Harry wanted to be a firefighter for their sweet little town; and she wasn’t oblivious, he had the body for it. She joked with him that he was going to sell thousands of dollars’ worth of calendars when the time came. “Are y’going t’be the one buying thousands of dollars’ worth of calendars?” He chuckled.

“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes. He kissed every inch of her face until she giggled more and more.

“Kitten?” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“M’gonna buy thousands of dollars’ worth of y’books.”

“With my calendar money?”

He tickled her until she squealed.

Harry was beautiful. More beautiful than she felt on most days, and it pained her sometimes to look in the mirror. But it always seemed like Harry knew when those days hit her hardest. “Do y’know you are the most beautiful person I know?” He whispered to her, as if it were a secret. But he would have shouted it from the rooftops. He showed all their friends the pictures he had taken of her and put them in their group chat and reminded them to tell her how pretty she looked. It made her giggle and shy from the attention. He would brush his fingers along her cheek, “So, so pretty,” he reminded her. “Should be illegal t’look at you for this long. Hogging all your beauty t’myself.”

But they always reassured one another that this was it. She was his soulmate—even when he didn’t believe in them. He was the love of her life—the one she planned to write about until she couldn’t physically write anymore.

It helped that people like Eleanor, Louis, Niall, Sarah, and Mitch, all assured her too that no one loved anyone as much as Harry loved her. Everyone loved them together. It wasn’t close to the amount they loved each other, but it was a good amount—one that suggested everyone knew they were meant for each other.

Almost everyone.

*

Lauren was the same year as she was. She was popular, smart, insanely beautiful. In another dimension, she was sure Harry was meant to be with Lauren. But they were a good pair. Lauren was kind and almost always worked with her on school projects. Arguably one of her closest friends outside her main group of friends she shared with Harry.

When they were out and about, Harry watched out for the girls in the group nearly as much as he watched out for the girl that made his heart stutter. He kept spare hair ties around his wrist for when drinking at parties got to be too much and he worried their hair would fall into the toilet. “Harry, can you come get Lo and I?” She asked once Harry picked up at the other end. It was Harry’s least favorite kind of call. The kind he knew Lauren had dragged her to a party that was too much. It made his heartbeat faster, worried beyond belief until he saw that sweet smile holding her friend’s hair back as she threw up in the bushes. “Can you help me get her into bed?” Of course he would. He would do anything she asked.

Harry noticed the way Lauren’s grip tightened around his neck as he held her and carefully placed her into bed. Out of the kindness of his heart, he ignored it. For Lauren’s sake, for his sake, and of course the sake of the pretty girl whose concern for her friend grew as she gathered items needed to cure a hangover. 

*

Lauren was in love with Harry. Had been for years. But it couldn’t even come close to her and her love for Harry. Not in any way, shape, or form. Lauren adored her friend, because how could she not? She was too sweet for words. But there was a part of her, a gnawing, growing part of her that wanted her friend out of the picture. She told herself all she needed was a chance, but it didn’t seem doable. They were inseparable. There was no way she could tear them apart. It was impossible.

Or was it?

*

“Harry?” Lauren asked. She was smiling at her phone again. The way she always did when Harry texted her. During the week, it was a little hard to see one another—even though Harry was commuting to the local university just a half hour drive away and they were still in town. So, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays were meant for dates and kisses and being so obsessed with one another, it would probably make anyone want to throw up.

Especially if they were jealous.

“Yeah, he’s out early. Wanted to know if we needed anything for our study session.”

Lauren felt a crack in her plan. They were really too sweet. Both of them.

“Do you ever… worry about Harry?” Lauren asked. 

She frowned. “Yeah, like every day.”

“No,” Lauren felt a stab of hatred for herself as she pressed. Of course, her friend would say something sickeningly kind like that. Of course, she worried about Harry. “No like… him at university.”

“What do you mean?” She asked innocently. The innocence in her voice was sincere. Genuinely asking her friend what she meant. Worry coated her face. Was there something she missed? Should she have been worrying about Harry more?

“Uh… just… forget it,” Lauren shook her head. “It’s stupid.”

That was going to be the end of it. If it was, maybe Harry would have fared better. Maybe it wouldn’t have led to this horrible moment. Left wondering and aching and wishing.

But she was nothing if not the best and most fantastic friend of all.

“Lo, are you sure? You seem… nervous.”

So, she continued. Planted the tiny seed of doubt. “It’s just… Harry’s been with you his whole life and he’s made it well known he won’t be leaving. So, do you ever feel like you should… let him be free to experience more? I don’t know… I just… I think I would worry if it were me.”

That was all it took.

The self-doubt was so easy. It made so much sense coming from her mouth. Harry did deserve more. She thought that on a regular normal day.

Staying close to home wasn’t going to make Harry’s life any richer. He wasn’t staying in a dorm. He wasn’t going to be studying abroad or anything like that. A degree in psychology to help as much as he humanly could. Training to be a firefighter the moment he finished his degree. He would love his life and living here. 

But what if he deserved more?

*

Harry’s house was like her second home. She rarely knocked—only if she was unsure if anyone was home. If the car was in the driveway, she made her way in.

Except today. Because today, Anne’s porch didn’t feel like home. The steps that made her trip and fall on Halloween when Harry tended to her like he planned on being a doctor. It solidified   the picture that he would be a fireman, an amazing one at that. But he would have been great at anything he set his mind to. The flower garden where she and Harry found a bird’s nest after a bad storm. The study sessions and poems that she scribbled on the porch where Anne would bring them lemonade and cookies.

It was one of her favorite places on earth.

But it wasn’t today.

She knocked.

Harry pulled the door out of the way. “Hey baby,” he pecked her cheek, oblivious to everything she felt and how she sounded. He was in his own happy world. Nothing was wrong. He wasn’t told that she was less when Harry needed more. He didn’t notice she knocked. That she hadn’t toed over the threshold. “How was school and work? Are y’tired?”

“Harry,” she whispered.

“I was thinking we could order in and watch a movie.”

It’s not fair.

“Harry,” she repeated.

“I think pizza—oh we had pizza two days ago. Maybe Chinese?”

It’s. Not. Fair.

“Harry.”

Finally, he noticed she hadn’t moved much beyond the doorway while he was rushing about. He turned to her finally. Noting her crestfallen face, the way her eyes were bloodshot, and she refused to look him in the eye.

“Hey, kitten,” he frowned and moved toward her. “S’matter, love?” He asked. “Did y’have a bad day? See a sad video?”

It pained her to no end that he knew her so well that a sad video could have been the culprit for her sadness on a normal day. But this wasn’t a normal day. This was the day she was going to break her own heart.

“I uh…” she swiped at her eye.

“Kitten, baby,” he cooed and reached for her arm gently, but she pulled away. “Hey, what—”

“I think I’m gonna…” her throat hurt. Like the words were burning her esophagus like they weren’t supposed to come out. “I want to go away,” she whispered. That was at least in part true. She did want to go away. Far, far away so she wouldn’t feel the hurt like she was in that moment. “For school.”

There was a pang of frustration that went through him. Not because he was mad at her. No, he was going to miss her, that was it. But her success, her happiness, all of it was more important than a few hundred miles. Or even thousands. Harry sighed, wiped a hand over his face, and nodded. It would be hard. Long distance would be really hard. “Alright, yeah. Course, baby. Whatever’s best for y’education.”

She shook her head trying to talk herself out of saying it. Or maybe into saying it. It seemed so wrong. So awful. It wasn’t worth it. All this hurt. She hadn’t even started really. She could stop right then. But she looked at him. Looked at his kind, worried face. The way he looked at her when she had a stomachache or a headache. When she smacked her head on the corner of a table she was cleaning under or when she fell off her bike when she was young. “It’s… it’s really far away, Harry,” she reminded him. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say it. Wouldn’t have to do the hard part. He would just know, he would agree.

“Yeah… yeah, it is. But s’okay,” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Just a minor hiccup. “I’ll come t’you every weekend. And there will be holidays. M’sure your mum will want y’home and—”

His poor heart. He’s got no idea I’m about to ruin everything.

“Harry,” she swallowed. “It’s… it’s too far,” it wasn’t even a whisper.

Harry frowning was her least favorite thing. It made it all so much harder. “Too far for what, kitten?” He asked almost rhetorically.

Her inhale of breath was shaky. Like it was hurting her to breathe. Everything hurt. Every inch of her body. Like she had been hit by a car or had fallen from a tree. It wasn’t fair. Harry was oxygen. He always had been for as long as she had known him. Now it was hurting her to be in the same room as him. “For us,” she croaked.

It felt like the whole world had shifted. Flipped on its axis. He remembered hearing about it in their astronomy class. She was sitting right beside him. He wanted to ask her if she remembered because it wasn’t supposed to be like that. It was supposed to happen gradually, in hundreds of thousands of years. No one was supposed to notice. But Harry did. He noticed immediately.

He scoffed and looked at her like she was insane. Like it was a mean joke. She wasn’t mean so where had this come from? The tears were a nice touch. Realistic even. It felt terrible to look at her in such a way, but surely it was only the natural reaction when someone he loved just caused the magnetic field to flip the entire globe. “Baby, what are y’saying?” He asked. It didn’t really make sense and so his only option was to question her. She covered her mouth releasing a sob that he hadn’t ever heard come from her mouth. Not when her childhood dog died. Not when her mom got in a scary car accident and started losing her mind just enough to make her anxious and worried. Not when she got a terrible grade on her math test or hurt her ankle in soccer. There wasn’t a moment he could compare it to. There was no grief she had ever felt that elicited such a sound. Harry reached for her again, instinctively, his hand touching her upper arm. She flinched. Like it stung.

Like it hurt.

In hindsight, it was the last time he touched her, and she flinched away.

“Baby,” his throat felt tight. Nothing in his brain was connecting—the pattern wasn’t something he had encountered before. She didn’t flinch at his touch. The words didn’t make sense. Not from her mouth. What did any of that mean? “Kitten…”

“I’m sorry Harry. It’s too much. We’re too young and…” she took a heaving breath. One that shook her whole body. The only thing Harry could think about was holding her. It didn’t matter that his heart was splintering into pieces. She was in pain, and he wanted to cure it and he wanted to hold her to do it. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry,” she left the doorway without another word. Not a single touch, nor kiss. When was the last time he kissed her? Oh, he was so lucky his class finished early, and it was the night before. A goodnight kiss when everything was happy and wonderful. He had an early day. So, he told her he loved her and went to bed. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Like the world had tipped and opened a blackhole to this terrible dimension.

“Harry?” Anne asked, coming from the kitchen. He was staring at the door. Where the love of his life had previously stood. Harry was only 19, but he was never surer of how she fit in his life. “Are you alright?”

“No, not at all,” he croaked, and the tears flooded his vision and down his face. There was nothing else to be said.

--

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[wastemanjohn]

i'm not at all bothered about people disliking john because entirely valid tbh and someone else's opinion changes nothing for me. i just think the militant anti john brigade - that is, those that make up textually unsupported and entirely leftfield reasons to dislike him - are really missing out.

the thing is, we've got an absolute buffet of an interesting and irreparably fucked up character here. we could debate the absolute Horrors of john winchester and his a+ parenting for days on end literally from the two seconds of screentime he had. because he does suck! it's totally fair to say that canon john is selfish, neglectful and at best emotionally abusive. now i'm defo no apologist (see username) - but he's also the furthest thing from a cardboard shitty abusive dad. there is serious context for the things he does and the way he thinks.

john's life was hell man. his own dad, for all he knew, abandoned him. he went to war young and almost certainly came back with ptsd. these things alone don't exactly make life easy but then your wife burns to death on a ceiling and you're left a widower and a single dad to a baby and a pre schooler before you're even thirty? then discover that it couldn't even be a plain old housefire but no - there is actual Evil out there and you and your children are not safe and never will be?

the desire for revenge is understandable. the desire to do stupid and paradoxically dangerous things to protect your children are understandable. right, good or healthy? no. but understandable. and that's what makes a good sympathetic character.

basically i think a lot of negative readings of john exaggerate the badness of his intentions and ignore his humanity. it's also understandable that john is not a beacon of emotional regulation. it's also understandable that he cant always balance being emotionally and physically there for his kids with Fighting The Horrors. pour alcohol misuse onto this dumpster fire and you're not getting a perfect person, or a perfect parent. you're getting a broken human who was focused only on keeping his kids safe, alive, protected, and able to protect themselves. sure, he had tunnel vision about it. he did it very badly. he controlled sam as the youngest and parentified dean as the oldest. he made sam feel misunderstood and smothered. he made dean feel completely responsible for the welfare of his brother and dependent on john's praise and approval as his second in command.

john fucked his kids up IMMEASURABLY. he thought he was doing the right thing.

also - remember young john? remember how he's softly spoken and loves his cars and adores his girlfriend and respects his fucking elders and, to quote mary, "believes in happy endings"? remember the doting dad we see for like a minute in the pilot? is that not meant to show us that, had his life not taken the turn it did - he would likely have been an entirely different person? how is the tragedy of that not also completely DELICIOUS??

so why homophobic john? why john who beat dean senseless regularly? why john who gave no shits and wanted his boys to be miserable? why these embellishments that make him someone else, someone with nothing good inside of him, when what canon gives us is so much better?

come on guys. the tragic messy sad angry selfish HUMAN john we got in the show is an absolute treat. why are we making him an irredeemable, unfeeling and uncomplicated asshole who doesn't give a shit about his boys. ya'll saw him spending a good 50% of his screen time crying about how much he loved them right? and sam and dean KNEW he loved them. they also knew, or in dean's case came to realise, that he was a terrible father in many ways. real life is messy and nuanced. families are messy and nuanced. and imo spn got this so right.

[rosenclaws]

i just know leopold would take such good care of a sick reader…….

Remedy || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

warnings: fluff!! leo being the cutest, love confession <33

a/n: anon you are so fucking right Leopold would be the best person to take care of you and you should say it. ALSO OMG HES SO SOFT IN THIS MOVIE I CANT TAKE ITTTTT

You were absolutely miserable. From the moment you woke up you could tell everything was wrong. Your body ached, your head hurt, nose stuffed. There's no doubt that you were sick. Well that's too bad because you couldn't afford to be sick right now.

Work had been an absolute hell hole and you had mountains of tasks on your to do list. It takes every bit of energy you have to get out of bed. You throw on whatever work clothes are closest and head to your kitchen. As the coffee brews you lay your forehead on the counter, hoping the cool marble will somehow get rid of your fever.

"Good morning!" You recognize Leopold's voice from the window. You groan in response, hoping he gets the message. You look up and see him watching you with concern.

"You look ill." He reaches to touch your forehead but you gently shove his hand away.

"I'm fine." You mumble as you pour yourself a cup of coffee. He places his hand on your forehead and shakes his head.

"You are most certainly not fine, you're hot to the touch." You sigh and place your cup on the counter, searching your drawers for wherever your medicine was.

"No I'm fine. I can't get sick right now so I'm going to down as much Dayquil as I can and go to work." Leopold reaches out and grabs your wrist.

"Darling, you are not going to work today." He says softly.

It breaks his heart to see you so ill and refusing to let yourself rest. Not on his watch. It's his duty to take care of you, whether you want it or not.

"Leo I'm-" Your cut short by a wave of lightheadedness. Your eyes widen as you stumble slightly. Leopold catches you before you can fall.

"Okay fine maybe I am sick." He smiles softly as he gently guides you back to your bedroom.

"I will phone your work, you get back into bed." Being the gentleman he is he closes the door to let you get undressed.

You quickly strip off your clothes and get back into your pajamas. Your bed has never felt more comfortable in your life. You fight the covers, not sure if you want them or if it's too hot. So you settle on half on half off. You can hear Leo in your kitchen.

How lucky can you be you think. To have someone as amazing as Leopold in your life. Your relationship with him is newer. A couple months but it's been a dream. He's sweet and kind and ridiculously handsome. You know it's new but you think you might be falling in love.

"Darling are you dressed?" He calls through the door.

"Yeah" You say weakly as you snuggle into the pillow.

The door opens and he frowns at the miserable look on your face. He has a glass of water in his hands and Tylenol in the other. You smile, hoping it wasn't too hard for him to find it.

"Everything hurts." You say with a pout. He lifts the glass of water to your lips and helps you take the pain meds. His hand cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss your forehead. He soothingly runs his hand along your arm.

"I am here for whatever you need." You close your eyes, just wanting to sleep for a little longer.

"Sleep well." You hear him say before darkness takes over.

You don't know how much time has past by the time you wake up again. You still feel sick but the sleep helped. You feel around for your lamp and turn it on, the light making you wince. A delicious smell catches your attention as you get out of bed. Wrapping a blanket around you, you slowly make your way to the kitchen. You're met with the sight of Leopold in an apron. Fresh groceries sitting on your counter as he focuses all his attention to pot on the stove.

"Smells great," Your voice cracks and you grimace, maybe you should have drank some water before trying to speak.

"Hello darling," He walks over and kisses your cheek.

Like he could read your mind he offers you a glass of water and tells you to go lay down. You don't listen however as you want to watch him cook. Leopold has always had a passion for food and he let it be known whenever he was in the kitchen. It doesn't take long for him to be done and he shoos you away to the couch.

"It's my mothers recipe," He says as he places a bowl of soup in front of you.

There's a soft look in his eyes, you don't know much about his parents, he doesn't talk about them much. You do know that they passed a long time ago.

"She loved to cook, even though we had staff she always found herself making and creating new recipes." She must be where he got his appreciation of food.

"Whenever I got sick she would make me this and it would heal me right up." He carefully feeds you a spoonful, even blowing on it for you. Your eyes widen as the delicious liquid meets your lips.

"Oh my god this is the best thing I've ever tasted." He laughs as you reach for the spoon.

"This is what food can be when you use fresh ingredients darling, not frozen TV dinners." He always got on your case about those but they're quick and easy so it's fine.

"Well if you want to cook then I'll start buying."

"Anytime."

You finish your soup quickly, already starting to feel better. You rest your head in Leopold's chest as some TV show plays in the background.

"Will you stay here tonight? Think it'll help me feel better." You ask with a whisper. He wraps his arms around you, his hands gently rubbing your shoulder.

"Of course I can." He rests his chin on the top of your head, letting the TV play as he feels you growing sleepier by the second.

"Leo can I tell you something." Your eyes are fighting sleep and his warm embrace isn't helping.

"Anything."

"I think I love you." You can feel him tense only for a moment before his heart starts to beat faster.

He smiles, a warm feeling bursting from his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, gently lulling you back to sleep. You've never felt so cared for, so loved, so at peace than with him. You yawn and snuggle closer to him. He leans in close and whispers in your ear, letting his soft words bring you to sleep.

"I cannot begin to describe how much I love you my darling. Now sleep, I will be here in the morning."

[gremlingottoosilly]

bouncer könig would be an absolute powerhouse and nightmare to get rid of. you’re just some poor girl trying to dance with your besties but can’t help but notice the pair of eyes staring you down from across the room, and mysteriously no men are approaching you.

You know these extremely closed and secret German parties that are only open if the stars are aligned, and you have better chances of getting into Harward than partying in one of those clubs? Yeah, Konig got himself a sweet hustle being a bouncer in one of those, but in Vienna. He gets to maul some dumb college kids, get some free molly whenever some of the richer party-goers are feeling high and charitable, and have something to do between deployments. He cracks his knuckles after getting some rowdier guy out of the venue, and then his eyes fall on you. You're cute, trying a bit too much, and obviously uncomfortable - probably your first night out, and he can sense that you're not going to have fun in the overcrowded techno party where half of the people are trying too hard, and the other half is already high off their heels despite no drug policy. On a normal night, he wouldn't let you in - you're going to be a miserable fill of space for an hour or maybe more and leave with the worst night of your life and disappointed friends. However, it is kind of a slow night, and it's almost end of his shift. He can indulge himself a little. Setting a rift between you and your friend group - apologizing before you for letting them in before you. Saying something about the club being overcrowded already and that he didn't even notice you at first. You'll come inside as soon as someone else leaves - and you can even chat with him a bit since you're in such close proximity. You look nervous, uncertain. You look really fucking tasty. He drops his hand over your hip in a lazy manner, squeezing the material of that dumb cocktail dress you wore. He can forbid you from entering right here because of the fucking dress - you're trying too much, this is not a school party, and you're obviously not comfortable enough in heels to even dance if he does let you in, but he is charitable today. You're allowed in after he thoroughly squeezes your thighs and pats you on your ass in a poor attempt at trying to check out if you have anything hidden - and after he takes away your phone. House policy, he says. You don't dare to question it, eager to meet up with your friends. Konig watches you dancing, the way your ass moves in that tight dress - god, the outfit might be too much for a house music party, but he loves seeing a pretty thing like you. No one dares to get close once they see the line of his sight, and even the bartender knowingly nods, giving you some free shots in preparation to be taken home by the bouncer. Everyone is in on the game - Konig isn't the one to abandon a toy once he set his eyes on it, so you can be sure that he will drag you out of the club by the end of his shift...and you're going to be his pretty thing for the rest of the night - a all foreseeable future.

[harmfulb1tch]

How about a Coryo fic where he and reader had a thing before the 10th Games but after everything happened and Coryo went to 12, reader got engaged to someone else maybe Festus or someone??? Coriolanus comes back and tries to get reader back and idk how that goes 🙏🏽

Fallen Rose Petals

Part 2

Summary: he came back, but you were married to another.

Warnings: Angst (happy ending), fluff and suggestive smut (nothing graphic)

A/N: I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but I added a bit of softness because I was in the mood ok??? Please suggest More Coriolanus snow fanfics if you want to, the requests are open!

He came back. He came back just for you. He searched for you in every corner of the Capitol. And he found you, he really did. You were sitting in a café, beautiful red and black dress draped on your body, the white rose he gave you before he left to district 12 pinned to your dress just above your heart. You looked content. You hadn’t seen him yet as he approached you, but something didn’t feel right. Something felt different. He kept approaching you until he saw something shiny on your finger, a golden band with an enormous rock on the center.

Festus Creed came out of the café with a strawberry croissant covered in powdered sugar, you favorite. He hugged you and started kissing your neck in the middle of the street. You looked horrified, embarrassed and even disgusted, but Coriolanus was just seeing red. You looked to the side trying to get away from you husband, and saw the blonde man of your dreams walking away. You gently tried to push you husband away but when that didn’t result effective, you practically shoved him to the side, trying to run after him. You high heel’s retrained you from running, as if it was a sign that he was already gone and you were to live the rest of your life with Festus.

Truth be told, you never wanted to marry Festus. He was arrogant and, frankly, you hated him. You parents on the other hand decided that you had to marry someone of influence and money who could “take care of you”. You always thought Coriolanus Snow was going to be that man, but your parents had other plans.

“Corio!” You called after him like your life depended on it, but to no avail, he never turned back. You dropped to the floor dramatically, as tears stained your face and destroyed the make up you were wearing.

When Coriolanus arrived home, he immediately shut the door of his bedroom harshly behind him, ignoring the comments of concern coming from Tigris and his Grandma’am. After that, in a fit of rage, he started shouting and trashing his bedroom. He threw things against the walls and off the shelves. He felt absolutely blind with rage. After all this years of him waiting for you during his exile, thinking about you even in his sleep and fantasizing about your life together once he came back and had you in his arms. Now, all of that became a fantasy of the past.

The first thing you did after all that, was run towards the street and call your driver to take you to Coriolanus’ childhood home. You knew where it was because all of the time you had spent there during your time at the Academy together. When you arrived, you knocked on the door.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Tigris said as she opened the door of the house, unaware of the situation that had taken place.

“Hi! Is Corio here? I need to talk to him, it’s urgent” you said rushed, filled with anxiety.

“Uh… yeah he’s in his room. But um.. I don’t think it’s a good time-“ you cut her mid sentence brushing passed her and rushing towards his bedroom. You knocked three times but there was no answer. You then proceeded to open the door.

The sight in front of you was miserable. You knew Corio never looked vulnerable in front of others, so you had never seen him like that in your whole life. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, with his back to the door. He had his head draped on his hands, hunching over the side. You could hear him softly crying. This scene was so unlike him you didn’t think it was truly him. Everything around him was completely wrecked, which wasn’t unusual for him and you had seen his outbursts before.

You softly walked towards him, and placed a hand on his shoulder softly as to not startle him. You didn’t know if he knew it was you, or if he thought it was just his cousin. You draped your arm over his shoulders and placed your face on his shoulder. He looked to the side and saw you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He said harshly, moving away from your touch.

“Corio…” you said in a soft tone, just above a whisper “I’m sorry…”

“WHAT ARE YOU SORRY FOR HUH?! FOR BEING A TRAITOR?! YOU COULDN’T KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS AND WAIT FOR ME?!” He started shouting at you as he stood up, making you feel small and weak sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Corio-“

“Don’t call me that”

“It wasn’t like that. I was waiting for you! My father arranged the marriage not me” At this point, you had started crying and felt absolutely horrible for something that wasn’t even your fault “Please Corio… you have to believe me…”

You knew Corio wasn’t likely to forgive you. But in a small moment of vulnerability caused by a crack in his heart, he placed his hand on your chin and made you look up at him. He loved you this way, beneath him, vulnerable, always so open to his touch. He then cupped you face with the same hand, you leaned into his touch, still crying, while he softly wiped a tear from you face.

“I love you Corio, and I missed you. I’m glad you’re back” you said smiling softly.

“I love you too, petal. And I missed you so much…” this was extremely weird for him, but you appreciated it. He proceeded to kiss you with so much hunger and lust, you got lightheaded.

This was what felt correct. Your kisses with Festus never held passion or love. When you kissed Corio, it was as if you heart exploded in a million pieces. You felt like putty.

When the kiss ended you hugged him and cried in arms. He could tell you weren’t happy in your marriage and that you were forced into it. For the next few hours he held you close to him and made love to you like you deserved. He knew Festus didn’t fuck you as good as he did.

Then, you had to go home. You were about to leave through the door when he turned you around, pressed you against the door and once again tilted your head upwards to look at him.

“I will convince your parents for you to leave that scumbag. I have the money now to give you the life you deserve, petal. I promise” with that he yet again kissed you possessively and let you go, pushing aside his jealousy, only because he knew he would end up having you as his wife.

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 19: Overstimulation

Pairing: (G)I-DLE Miyeon x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,411

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Tone it down, dadd—oh…”

If only these people knew what’s with Miyeon right now—well, it doesn’t matter because you’re the only one who’ll get to know what lies beneath her.

It’s not even surprising and more than a being less of an expectation—Miyeon’s as just as naughty as you remember and it’s within your accord to punish her or make her life a living hell.

“You show up like this, then you’ll face the consequences.” You grit your teeth as every word is villainous, willing to break her demeanor into a whimpering mess until she can’t contain it anymore. You play with the buttons on the remote as clenched her thighs from time to time, feeling such rage of pleasure that’s becoming too much but you didn’t care—you will make her learn a lesson, no matter if it’s going to be just exclusively the both of you or in a public restaurant and guess what, it’s only getting started.

“P-Please, daddy—hngg, ahh—no, please t-tone it down…”

You scowl at her in aims to intimidate her, making her feel a bit of regret yet at the same time, she’s loving this as much as you do but Miyeon knows to herself that she doesn’t want to end up in a filthy predicament in a public place.

“You did this to yourself, Miyeon—” You can hear small whimpers as the vibration gets worse with your own control, as with that, she’s just fighting the urge to erotically moan as she’s feeling too much pleasure right now that can’t eat her food right. “—then deal with it.”

You could sense how she’s getting drenched right now and how needy she is because of your actions—you like the sight of this, her pretty, submissive face begging for you to stop is just a sight to behold and to be treasured. Of course, you won’t give her even an ounce of mercy as her pleas just fuels the fire inside you to further tease her.

And so, you did.

Her hands shiver once you’ve increased the intensity of the toy shoved up in her ass, and with that, she can’t fight the feeling of such euphoric essence and let out almost-inaudible moans that could possibly turn on any other men that could lie an ear to hear it. With her iron wall still standing strong, she manages to still fight it yet it’s impossible to ignore the gratification it gives her—it’s clear that she’ll soon collapse and you’ll like to make it evident, probably leaving a mark of her own juices onto the restaurant’s sofa as you smirk while getting such spoonful of your food because of your evil plan.

You won’t give her some time to breathe as you play within little-to-no vibrations up the maximum one at random intervals and with that, it’s all converging to what you had in plan as Miyeon lets out such ragged breaths with the pleasure running down her veins. With her begs for you, you absolutely dismissed any chance of being merciful to this greedy slut—you will always learn your lesson for not falling for her tricks anymore, and let her taste her own medicine.

You’ll live her up to that epitome of an oxymoron—make her life miserable yet pleasurable, at the same time.

“Excuse me, waiter—can you please come here for a second?” You then call the gentleman just feet away from you as you want something that will satisfy your needs and probably, even Miyeon’s. You then reach for the menu beside you as your eyes scout all over the beautiful pictures of food and labels, deciding on what dessert you may want to call this a day. “Can I get uhm… your signature chocolate cake, just a single slice and oh, what’s yours, Miyeon?”

Of course, you’ll make the pleasure-ridden girl fight for her dignity for her own chances of survival and to further test her, when she’s ordering, you’ve set the vibration meter to the maximum as it goes well according to plain—Miyeon herself is visibly struggling but manages to pounce her way through her struggles, her demeanor full of sophistication and class (maybe add a little stutters but didn’t do the trick) as the waiter didn’t even suspect of anything that may feel off. As soon as the waiter said that he will be back for your orders, Miyeon’s breath of relief can be seen evident as she manages to battle with the pleasure that can ruin everything, glaring at you because of it.

“Daddy—w-why when I’m o-ordering—hng, just why?”

“Don’t you like the risk, Miyeon?” You bat out such venom-laced words, your tone sinister as you intimidate her with your own control. “Like I said earlier, you’ve got yourself into this now bear with it.”

You then continued to tease, marking her to be still on the verge of letting her profanities be released from its concealment and you will make her punished for this.

It’s only getting started and this will be such an interesting bit if she’ll manage to stay sturdy with her faulty demeanor…

---

“B-But why at the r-restaurant, daddy? I was on the verge of cumming too, but just why??”

There she goes with her own frustrated remarks—well, just so you know that you expected this long ago, knowing how your teases earlier can make her feisty because she’s on the verge of a possible predicament, which you may find hilarious.

Just for context, Miyeon love going out with you with an added twist, making it kinkier for herself and you, knowing that she trusts you, decided for you to control the buttplug inside her in times where it’ll be safe and you know you’re not a merciful guy when bestowed a tool for punishment. Well, maybe she wouldn’t take this chance again as you took it for granted but here’s the thing—you’re always in control and things go onto your own accord and you’re just utilizing and testing her for your amusement and her torment.

Of course, deep inside her, she’s not tormented at all and rather even loved the way you played with her, dangling off to the edge of the cliff, affording risks that would’ve gone wrong if speculated but the both of you didn’t, so with the given conclusion, it was just right to do such things for both delighted emotions.

“Don’t lie to me—you loved this shit, Miyeon, you always do.”  You snap her into the reality of things, making her eyes open to swerve out to the lane of hypocrisy and make her face that she loved this—you can see it in her, those glowing orbs filled with lust and temptation, it’s all in her.

“I did but—not t-there, daddy! What if the waiter suspected something?” No one suspected anything, not even a single hint of evidence was seen.

“What if someone found out about this and made fun of me?” Chances are slim to none about that; there’s no way on earth that they’ll know Miyeon has a vibrating buttplug up in her ass.

“What if they smelled something off on the couch?” Maybe they may but it wouldn’t be obvious, and there’s nothing they can do about it as it already happens—nonetheless, they won’t even speculate a thing.

Maybe it’s just Miyeon becoming embarrassed and overthinking things that shouldn’t be—you know how uneasy and how these things can’t easily brush off her mind. Reassuring her, you told her that legitimately, nothing is left behind and there’s no way she should be embarrassed, but rather find it rather an opportunity to test her will and her mental strength to endure her own idea.

“Now you made me really horny, daddy—then do something about it…”

You sigh deeply, knowing the inevitable will soon come for another filthy climax between the both of you yet of course, you need to tame her down to the passenger seat as you have business of keeping eyes and your attention averted all towards the road and you’ll sure make her needs completely fulfilled.

“When we get home, Miyeon. I’m going to fucking ruin that tight hole of yours and of course, you.”

---

When the night settles, everything falls dark, onto the lustful abyss of no-return and the both of you would absolutely indulge onto your deepest desires, no matter what may happen. Maybe, no one can stop the both of you unless yourselves and to further seal the debauchery, the both of you settled onto your deepest, lustful hunger between both parties, lips clashing together like you’ve been deprived of each other’s tastes for epochs.

“You definitely improved, Miyeon…”

“Learned from the best.” Miyeon smiles at you, feeling proud with what you’ve created her to be as you further indulge onto the kiss again, locking tongues and dominating each other with aims for the other to fall in submissive yet that won’t you—it’ll be Miyeon. Soon enough, oxygen will be the ones to be blamed as you pull yourself out of the embrace of her soft, luscious lips and with the tension in the air rising until it’s damned to be in that elevation of lust. Miyeon, with her patience growing low, proposes her long-awaited needs for you as you took this as her vulnerable spot as everytime she pleads for something, she ends up falling submissive and you’ll do that again for like, a hundredth time. With the prey latching onto the trap of its feral predator, you caught it and seized that opportunity as didn’t even bother escaping but rather, submerging onto her needs.

“You want that, Miyeon?” She yelps with your proactive attempts to further make her succumb onto the pleasure, playing with the controls of the remote as her thighs quiver as soon as it vibrates around her prostate. “Now strip for me, Miyeon—better do it quickly since you’ve made the feeling mutual since the beginning.” And she would be glad to start you off with her to blame as the first one. No hesitation can be seen from her face as she strips her clothing whilst visibly struggling due to the intense gratification coursing down her veins caused by the vibrating buttplug that’s up in her ass.

It didn’t really take that long to undress herself because of how easy it can be undone and how skilled she is, fulfilling your needs of a sight of her perfect, impeccable body. You’re not going to lie, that outfit of Miyeon is simply elegant and simple that you don’t want her to strip it away but it must be done, knowing how it’s way better when those are on the floor, and her scrumptious, naked body is all on your sight. With her last defense down on her body, your eyes lit as you’re allured with the incredible sight of her tight body—her perky breasts, slender waist, breedable hips, supple butt and as the cherry on top, her succulent, dripping pussy—and swiftly approached her, before grabbing her wrists and pinned her down to the bed with not much effort because of your strength.

“You wanted this so bad, hm, Miyeon?” Your fingers then trace towards the porcelain skin of her body, up to neck then down to her nether regions in which she can’t help but let out such sultry moans as the pleasure is starting to get more intense because of your actions. 

Again, you’re a man of your word—not merciful; selfish with your own needs and what comply with those? To stimulate her further than what she can take and you’ll let her achieve that in no time.

Well, there’s already that mind-boggling headstart with the buttplug’s constant vibrations that sends multiple magnitudes of pleasure throughout her body and with your hands constantly caressing and fondling what skin you may find to further send her your regards of affections, she can’t help but just submit onto your control and continues to voice out the intense feeling of gratification.

“Oh—ohh, r-right there, daddy—ahh, t-that feels so g-good!” Miyeon mewls in pleasure as you continue swiping your fingers onto her clit and fondling her perky breasts, aiming for her to reach an incredible sensation of delight even without a deep penetration. Miyeon knows how your fingers can make her cum inevitably hard and you’re probably on the right track with that—you know deep inside that she likes it so much but you won’t get her into that high that easily.

Now, coursing your way onto the delectable treat that no dessert can’t top off, you latch your lips onto those succulent pussy of hers and gave it multiple pecks before letting your tongue do the action, the final enemy raging its way onto nearing Miyeon’s high and even though she wants to fight the urge, she can’t as there’s too much that’s happening that she can’t think straight—all she can do is moan and call out your name, too drowned in the sea of pleasure with no aims of going back up.

The inevitable mellifluous nectar runs down like rivulets onto your tongue, lapping every drop and savoring it as you hum insatisfaction, further stimulating her as you get onto the remote again and play with the controls of the buttplug. You can hear the constant buzzing sound of it as you voraciously eat Miyeon and it further adds to the filthy essence the both of you are exuding, as well as Miyeon’s angelic cacophony of moans. It repeats all in a cycle: caress her waist, lap your tongue against her lower lips, stimulate her clit with fingers, play with the controls, and so on until she becomes a whimpering mess. Her juices constantly flow freely down your mouth, your chin and some of the ungrateful ones messing up the bed sheets and the sullied sight of this while eating her out should be treasured, unlocking another filthy memory.

Of course, this would be her Achilles’ heel—your tongue, that pink-fleshed culprit is the bane of her tough will as it always sends her defenses crumbling down into a state of complete eradication, leaving her vulnerable for more tricks up your sleeve.

And just like that, in less than approximately four minutes—maybe it’s just your gut feeling knowing the nigh-accuracy of the time—she’s going to be achieve one of her long-awaited highs after being edged by you for so long as she continues to voice out how near she is.

“Oh n-no—I’m n-not gonna hold on for so l-long!” Or will she?

It’s within your own accord, your own regulations—no needs will be attended first unless it’s you; you’re to only one who gets to an orgasmic trance first before Miyeon, and that, she would’ve known that before she clouded her mind with pleasure (saying if she can even think straight because of the utmost gratification).

“Daddy!! Why’d y-you stop??” Miyeon whines, responsively because of your actions ceased to deny her high, which made her a little frustrated because of an enormous spike suddenly meeting the trenches of the lowest points possible. You smirk in delight because of your sinister advances, turning off the vibration and pulling your tongue and your mouth out of her sweetness and this, is just the beginning of the show you’re directing—of course you’re the director, the obvious control over her is a strong evidence, piece beautifully for the best, erotic output.

“It’s time for the main event, Miyeon, that’s why.” You rose up from your previous kneeling position as you quickly stripped your clothing, wanting to be equally as naked as the beautiful goddess in front of you. It didn’t take that long for your clothes to be deemed useless on the floor as you fondled her perky breasts, letting out another series of angelic moans that will make any man submerge onto their needs and to totally ruin the girl in front of them.

Well, you’re on the verge of that, and you’ll make this worth both of your time.

 “You know how badly you made daddy horny, right?” Miyeon nods as she looks at your eyes, endeared by the affection you’ve bestowed on her as her eyes glint with lust and anticipation, fully-invested into what you may have in store for her. Her hands immediately coursed its way onto your muscular arms, giving herself a leverage for the pleasure she’s been fighting since the beginning and now with your rock-hard shaft finally adding to the play, it’s time to make this a tale for more years to come.

Well, yes, in that context because you’ll treasure this moment until the end of time, because every session with Miyeon is just peak-class and ecstasy. Your cock then runs onto her lower lips, teasing it as well as setting the buttplug onto a moderate vibration, aiming to fully stimulate her before the main event. Growing yourself impatient as your needs are becoming too much for you to bear, you won’t help yourself but sink into your lustful desires.

“Then you’ll get what you want, Miyeon…” You didn’t give her some time to comprehend what’s happening and further lock onto the lustful fate of yours, plunging your entire length deep inside her and immediately picking up a moderate pace for the both of you to savor and relish. She cries in your own control over her, being too stimulated with your masterclass as everything is just overflowing her needs—the constant fondling of her mounds, your lips latching onto her neck and collarbones from time to time, the buttplug vibrating to massage her prostate and further turn her on and the constant ramming of your length inside her, hitting every spot that it made her almost scream every time your head hits her womb. 

This almost feels like a fever dream and somehow, way more enchanting than your past sessions—maybe it’s because of her added quality of moans, voiced by the toy that she has up her ass since earlier and the sight of her erotic, lewd face making such expressions of lust makes everything go higher than your expectations. You won’t dare to complain but rather, indulge onto a better pace as you grip her hips harshly, further pounding her into the mattress with a newly profound pace that’s maybe able to break the speed you’re hips was expecting to muster—such breakneck velocity was caused by your own need to sully her, and you would to end her up into that kind of a mess, a disheveled, ruined mess of a goddess.

Also, it’s always such a pleasurable and an addicting act to be inside Miyeon of all times, disregarding such intimate and anticipating foreplay because of her utter tightness that makes you love her even more. The way those velvety walls clench around your rapidly-thrusting shaft is such an elevating experience of delight and lust that you can’t ask for more, and rather, you’d love to make it frequent. Frequency is an understatement, because it has been always the case in every thrust you do but you wanted more, so, you gave her barrages of spanks as every time you do it, you can feel her walls inevitably clenching and making the session hotter and maybe even more pleasurable to be true.

“Fuck m-me harder—ahh, daddy—ohh, please!!”

“Of course I will, Miyeon—” You grip her hips like it’s about to get bruised as you lean down closer towards her ear, and whisper, “—I’m going to fill up this slutty pussy, up to the hilt.”

Given your words of fulfillment, you double the efforts your hips can maintain and fucked her like an animal, and like how she deserves it. Of course, your hips won’t be the ones only doing the work to stimulate her, as you set the maximum vibration of the buttplug as well as your hands caressing every inch of her body as much as possible. Her senses are now at her all-time high, having the most gratification she’ve felt all throughout the year and it’s just enchanting to feel how everything may seem surreal but it isn’t—it may elevate more than reality itself but everything is real, and with all of that pleasure coursing down her veins, the inevitable wouldn’t take long to introduce itself.

“I’m s-so close, daddy—gahh, please l-let me cum, please! Oh, please, dadd—oh fuck, please!” Constant pleads can be heard ringing around your ear the further you fuck her into oblivion. Now just being able to utter the same words and phrases as your cock made her thinking limited because of being clouded with sex, you wouldn’t want to hear her redundant pleas and would rather fulfill her needs and to make her a whimpering mess.

“You really want to cum on my cock, Miyeon?” A simple question, but bound to break such barriers of hesitance and can portrays thousands of emotions of lust and without even thinking about it, Miyeon nodded at you as she continues to repetitively moan in need and with her juices constantly leaking out on you like a broken faucet, you know it’s time for her anticipated orgasm. “Then cum on my cock, you gorgeous slut—”

And she did, instantly. Her face exudes such epitome of lust and eroticism that you can’t define the beauty beneath it—it’s just the paramount of it as she’s in pure ecstasy, and maybe even you. You pull out of her tightness as she sprays her treasured nectar all over the vicinity: your cock, your pelvis, onto the bed sheets and some, landing onto the dark, marble floor. When she’s still on her high, you brush your cockhead onto her pulsating lips as every inch was blessed by her juices and once her orgasm has subsided, Miyeon herself insisted to even finish it all inside her, to the point where nothing will be wasted and can’t go back, only indulge yourself into the filthiness that the both of you dived into.

“Fuck m-me hard, d-daddy—please, fuck me hard—oh god, fuck!!”

She doesn’t need to tell you about your harshness and your rapid pace as you read her mind and immediately, does so as you repeatedly gave the fastest thrusts your hips can muster, wrecking and ruining her tight cunt like you have something to prove her—you’ve already proved yourself to her ages ago, and maybe, this will just another rough treatment of pounding her until she can only think about you and your throbbing length.

Knowing that the inevitable will soon come on your side as you can feel it running down your loins, the familiar tingle signaling the near coming of your orgasm and it wouldn’t take long before you submerge onto it. Wanting Miyeon to achieve her high again—she’s also getting close because of too much stimulation because of your actions and the constant pulsations, clenching and her utter wetness are such evidences to know how near she is to achieve that high—you work onto fondling her perky mounds and latched your lips onto her taut buds, kissing and pecking it in order to make her brain go haywire and with her profanities being constantly voiced out, you know it’s going to be near and this would be the paramount of the show.

“God—are you g-going to cum again, Miyeon?”

“Yes, d-daddy! Please c-cum inside me too—I k-know—gahh, y-you want to—fuck, please, d-daddy!!”

Not going to hold anything just to savor the feeling, you will embrace the inevitable as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt as you fall onto your deepest desires, shooting your treasured seed deep inside of her as you fill every inch of her velvety walls full of your cream. The both of your groan in every spurt you deposit inside her pussy, letting both of you exchange such lustful plethoras of sinful compliments towards each other as she holds your arms and smiles at you, loving how this moment is being unveiled into a messy one and will end up on that note too.

After exchanging breaths and beautiful smiles laced with bliss, the both of you shared an intimate kiss as both your lips embraced with aims to show the utmost affection and love between the both of you. Even with the differences and being bugbears, the both of you still show how much you love each other and it’s all pristine and genuine. You deepen the kiss as your primal instincts kick in but it wasn’t nearly aggressive, but rather full of your intimacy and passion towards each other and with your length gradually getting flaccid, you pull out to her only to be met with a view of her folds full of your semen, creaming her beautifully as some of it are seeping out and staining the sheets underneath.

“You c-came so much daddy—filled me up so well…” Miyeon voiced out enervated, and you, smiling with the fact that she always loves being filled up by you and how your loads are consistently making her feel the utmost serendipity inside her.

“Of course—” You caress her cheek and fix her disheveled hair, then smile gleefully at her as you feel the utmost affections towards right now that you want to give her anything in this world. “—all of that because I love you…”

Miyeon blushes from that thought and knows it’s all genuine because within the refulgence of your eyes, it shows how much she means to you. Miyeon then catches you off-guard with a kiss on the lips as she voiced out her exhaustion and drowsiness. “I love you t-too, daddy but, can we please sleep and cuddle tonight? I feel sleepy right now…”

“If that’s what my baby wants, then why not?” You then laid down beside her, and pulled her into an embrace as you didn’t even bother to do anything rather than feeling the warmness of her body complimenting yours.

“Don’t you wanna shower, daddy?”

“Maybe later, Miyeon but for now…” You caressed her cheeks again, stroked her hair and continued, “Let’s just feel each other—cuddle each other, alright?”

With the softness in your heart, you made everything end on a good note as you can already feel Miyeon sleeping onto your chest, her impeccable features all in your sight as all you can feel is how much you adore her and not so long after, you feel yourself succumbing onto your drowsiness as this marks as the end of another spectacular day, maybe hoping for an energizer once the both of you wake up… or maybe even more than that…