#I could cook an egg on this phone

[cyclone360]

Tumblr is starting to make my phone overheat I think it’s because all the hot and sexy posts on my dash

[princyvish]

realistic hand jumpscare

[cryingpariah]

Felt so strongly about that Dragon/Yassop post that I went out and found a One Piece Dad tier ranking to properly express my thoughts

[theo4eve]

This might be the origin of my newfound ed

[staryarn]

Season with your heart

[

Tip 2: to make mashed potatoes easy style get enough small potatoes, fill pot till like. A third the way up with potatoes, cover with water (make sure it barely covered the potatoes), then lightly season with salt. Boil for about 20-40 minutes so they're tender as hell. Pulverize those fucks in a bowl (strained). Add seasoning to your liking (added salt, pepper, onion powder because I wasn't assed to reach for garlic powder, agave syrup / maple, cheese, sour cream. Loosen with water and add half and half (or better cream but. Didn't have it) to liking. Microwave that fucker then rapidly mix so the cheese strings)

]

[wibble-wobbegong]

could a more perfect man exist

[peepthatbish]

Does anyone else’s phone get unusually hot when you use tumblr?? Istg it’s the equivalent of playing a game on a laptop without an annoying fan to cool it off

[sagi-tori-ous]

Simon sighs, his left hand coming up to press against his anguish ridden face. He had just gotten off the phone with work and it was expressed that they needed him there earlier than his allotted time.

He knew you wouldn't take the news well, early mornings were your favorite time to spend with him. Simon wasn't an early bird like you even though his profession called for punctuality. He loved the bed you'd share, snuggling up to you till his alarm shrieked through the master bedroom, every so often tempting him to throw it afar without care. Nevertheless, he knew what mornings meant to you. There was always a reason why he dragged himself out of bed an hour, almost two before he had to leave the house. There was an obligation, one where he had to sit at the round oak table with you perched on his lap, your surroundings smothered in the scent of the steaming cooked breakfast and freshly brewed tea you prepared, faithfully.

"fuck me," he groans, dragging himself around the spacious bedroom, begrudgingly getting ready for the day, "s'gonna be so mad."

Simon could hear the faint pitter-patter of your feet as you danced around the kitchen, fretting over what you should cook today for the both of you.

"Baby!" You call out, looking through the ingredients, "Pancakes and bacon? How bout it?" The thought was a bit mouthwatering, there weren't many things at the moment better to you than some syrup-covered buttermilk pancakes and crispy bacon.

"y'know I'm fine with it." Simon calls back, fastening his attire promptly, "Everything you make is delicious." His attempt to butter you up.

Which doesn't fall flat— you soak it up as if you were just like the pancakes you were preparing, dubious as ever to what was in store for your morning. You noted that the tone of his voice was preppier, more awake than usual. You briefly questioned why he even was fully awake, seeing as you were usually the one to drag him out of bed in the morning. Literally.

Simon, still dwelling in the bedroom, shakes his head, stumped on how to go about this, in a way wanting to just slide out of the front door and ultimately deal with the consequences later but that'd be too rude. Too disrespectful.

"Love," Simon calls out to you, the combat boots strapped to his feet sounding thunderous as he finally rounds the corner into the quaint ivory plastered kitchen.

"yes," you sing, your mouth upturns into a small smile, "I'm actually almost done. I had already made the dry mix, remember before that recipe I found, I just had to add the eggs and but-" Your sentence falters as you gaze up at Simon, eyes going up and down taking in his wear, you weren't a fool and picked up on the circumstances quickly.

The pout that pulled your lips down was instantaneous. "No."

Simon steps towards you, "I know love, they just called me. There s'nothing I could do. I'm sorry."

"mornings are for us." You whine— you didn't want him to go. You wanted to finish cooking and take your rightful seat in his lap while you fed both of you breakfast. You wanted his heavy head to lay on your shoulder, leaning up occasionally to nibble on the bites of food that you pressed to his lips. You wanted his muscular arms to wrap around you, holding you tight against his broad frame as you babbled about any and everything. You wanted that every morning and wouldn't be subjected to change.

"I know," Simon repeats, attempting to move closer to you but the attempt was futile. You blew air into your cheeks, slightly puffing them as you turned back to the stove. "the food." you grumble.

Yes, you knew what Simon's job consisted of, you knew that it required of him to be available at times, even if they were inconvenient. Were you being unreasonable? Slightly. Could you see through your heedlessness? Not at the moment. You couldn't help but feel wronged like this was to spite you.

The silence lingered for some time until you broke it, "when do you have to leave?" you reluctantly ask, absentmindedly tapping the fluffy pancakes with your spatula.

"got'to be there by 6," Simon glances down at his wristwatch, "I should be out the door in the next 15 minutes." His gaze was swift to shift back to you, perturbed by your behavior.

Your shoulders hump, movements becoming a tad more aggressive, "Well guess I have to hurry." The comment is not as endearing as it seemed, there was a snarky nuance to it.

Simon wasn't oblivious to your attitude, he knew the little backhand comment was supposed to be a jab at him but the animosity didn't resonate. He found the slightest of amusement with your current demeanor. The almost undetectable smirk was amiss from your view since your back was to him. He found your displeasure the least bit adorable. Anger wasn't a reoccurring emotion for you, there was no familiarity but when you did encounter it, it could be misplaced at times.

You were upset and it showed easily; it was evident in your expressions, fluid in your movements. Regardless of how you felt, you still packed the heaping breakfast in his sack, and bottled up his piping hot tea, momentarily wishing for him to burn his tongue later on, before pushing his belongings into his hardened chest.

Your hands momentarily brushed against his pecs, recoiling from the touch as if he'd burnt you, dramatics in full effect until your wrists were clasped in one of his large worn hands, reeling you back into him.

"I'll be back," he reassures, looking down at you even though you refused to look up at him, " y'know this." His declaration falls on deaf ears, yet still, he pushes forward, inching his lips closer to your forehead to leave his standard kiss, "I always come back to you." He whispers, lips almost flush with your skin.

Before he can, you pull away, an action that shocks you both. It was unfamiliar to you both, upsetting in many ways but no more than the other.

"stop being a brat," Simon says, his eyes now hard, glaring "You've been playing this little game for too long. Enough." His gaze is unwavering as he once again inclines towards you, his pace treacherous, but to his displeasure you still deny his affection, pulling away from him, prompting him to snag your chin between his fingers, now forcing the eye contact.

"Keep on, y'know this is a game I can play really well."

Later that day...

"feels s'good," your voice whines, breath hitching ever so often from the stimulation Simon gave you. Your head is fuzzy from his calculated touches, eyes unfocused from the momentous pleasure, "m'gonna cum."

"like hell you are," he reproves, "keep those legs up."

Simon's right hand latches on to your thigh, applying a bit of pressure as he nestles between them. He fists his angry cock in his other hand, purposefully nudging your clothed cunt in the process. His movements were harsh, self seeking, paying no mind to your throbbing pussy as it drooled through the thin fabric of cloth that separated your bare flesh from his.

"brats like you don't get to cum." He condemns, his voice laced in the disappointment he felt, "don't deserve t'cum."

Your thighs trembled under his hold, "I do, I do." you cry, chest rapidly rising as the knot in the pit of your stomach grows, begging to be undone. He was ruining you, he was showing you why certain games were too dangerous to play.

"but you don't," he grunts, he fucks his palm faster, crowning your aching clit. The hand that was on your thigh plants you, knowing as you try to roll your hips and meet the thrusts of his cock.

"please! please! Si!" You beg, tears threatening to fall, "mmm fuck-" His bottom lip slips between his teeth, he blatantly ignores your pleading, instead he focuses on his orgasm as his hot cum paints your cunt through the skimpy cloth. His touch is gone as soon as he's sated, leaving you high and dry.

"like I said, brats like you don't get to cum."

Press this 💨❄️❄️

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part III

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: It's your last day together with Marcus and you're going to make it count.

Chapter Warnings: language, SO much angst, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food consumption, time travel?

WC: 6.3K

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta'ing ❤️

Series Masterlist

Time stood still when you looked at your phone the following morning, you were certain of it.

The mighty General shall be out of your hair b4 you know it.

The words left a pit in your stomach, making you feel sick. How didn't you think this through? What happened between you was fast, sure, but not one time the night before did you pause to think how hurt you were going to be when Marcus left.

It wasn't like he was going to a different state or country. He would be gone for good. Never again would you know the feel of his lips or hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"Good morning," Marcus said from behind you, slipping his arms around your waist while you cooked eggs for breakfast. You flipped your phone over and turned around in his arms, pressing a firm kiss to his lips that lingered to the point where the eggs burned a little, but it was worth it.

You hadn't checked your phone until he went to the bathroom to wash up and you had breakfast underway, but you had already decided not to tell him. If you didn't speak it into existence, then maybe it wasn't real.

"Good morning," you said shyly, giving him one last quick peck on the lips before scooping eggs and sausage onto plates for you both.

"Was your superior quite angry with you?" he asked while he attempted to help you with the toast but ended up burning his fingertips.

You shook your head and picked up both plates to take to your small kitchen table.

"Nah, I never call in sick," you told him with a smile. "Besides the park, what did you want to see today?"

He settled next to you at the table, one hand dropping casually to rest on your leg while he picked up his fork with the other. "To me it does not matter, so long as it is with you."

You grinned and felt your cheeks warm. "You know, you said you didn't have much experience with romance in your life but you could have fooled me. Every word you say is romantic."

He chuckled and dropped his gaze to his plate, feeling a bit shy. "Does simply wishing to spend time with a lover make one a romantic?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Kind of. At least, in my experience."

Marcus hummed and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "We must change that, my lady."

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, turning to lock your lips with his. His grip on your thigh tightened when he heard the little noise escape from the back of your throat and you squirmed in your seat. "Well, you've changed a lot, already," you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He grinned and leaned forward to chase your lips, making you giggle and toss your arms around his neck.

Before you even had a chance to register the noise, the front door unlocked and swung open.

"Morning! Why are you still - oh, gross," Danny said when he turned from closing the door and saw the two of you intertwined.

Marcus withdrew his arms from around you and stood solemnly with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Daniel, I apologize," he said, his voice deep. "Courtesy demands I request permission from a lady's father, or in this case, closest living male relative, before pursuing her. I hope you can forgive me for my transgression." Marcus bowed his head and you quickly stood up, waving your hands in between them.

"No, no, no, you do not need my little brother's permission, Marcus," you told him. Danny folded his arms together and stifled a laugh.

"I don't know, Sis, I think he's onto something. Maybe if more guys went through me, you wouldn't be left on read so much."

"Shut up, Danny!" you seethed, fists clenched at your sides.

Marcus just looked back and forth between you, trying to keep up.

"I'm just kidding! Marcus, it's totally fine," Danny said, clapping him on the shoulder before slipping into the kitchen for your leftovers. "If you really want to spend your last day in the twentieth century with my sister, don't let me stop you. I mean, personally, I would have picked the girl who works at the Java Hut, or maybe the one at the comic book store..."

Both of you tuned him out when Marcus absorbed what he said.

"My... last day?" he questioned. You swallowed and nodded.

"He texted me last night but I didn't see it til you were in the shower," you said quietly, gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you."

"Oh," he said softly, eyebrows pinching together in thought. And just like that, the fun, playful mood between the two of you vanished only to be replaced with despair.

"We can still do exactly what we said we would do," you assured him while Danny kept talking to himself in the kitchen, adding to the long list of people he would rather spend his last day with other than you.

"Of course," Marcus replied, but you could see the distant look in his eye. It was probably the same one you had when you first read Danny's text.

"Let's just... enjoy what time we have left."

He nodded and inhaled sharply, avoiding your eye while he processed everything he had just learned, both of you too nervous to say what you really wanted to say.

"Why aren't you working?" Danny asked, emerging from the kitchen with a piece of buttered toast.

"I called in sick."

He nodded, not even questioning it before heading to his room. "I'm gonna get some shut eye and head back over to Lizard's later. Gotta run a few diagnostic tests before we send you home, General."

His words were like taking a bullet. Appetite suddenly gone, you sunk down into your chair and tried not to let your emotions show but he must have sensed it because Marcus was sitting down next to you with one arm around your shoulders and the other on your thigh.

"We still have today, cor mea."

You sniffled and leaned into his shoulder, hiding your face against his neck. "You said that yesterday, too. What does it mean?"

You felt his lips on the top of your head before he answered.

"It means, my heart."

Tears stung your eyes so you quickly closed them, doing your very best to remember everything about that moment. The way he smelled, all fresh from his shower, the roughness of his hand against your skin, the sound of his heart beating soundly in his broad chest.

Don't go, you wanted to beg. Please stay with me. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Was it ridiculous to want a man you just met to leave everything behind and stay with you? In a world he knew nothing about? Even if you did ask and by some miracle he agreed, would you be able to make him happy? Would this world make him happy?

No, you couldn't ask that of him. He had a whole life waiting for him in Ancient Rome.

You took a deep breath and reluctantly extracted yourself from his arms.

"Okay," you said, quickly swiping at your eye. "Let's go check out the park and once we're done, we'll see what else you want to do."

He nodded, helping you clean up from breakfast while pretending not to notice how red your eyes looked, but by the time you were both ready to leave your apartment, you had collected yourself. You refused to spend your last day together wallowing in misery.

You were going to make sure it was perfect.

"This place is magnificent," Marcus said breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from the rich greenery surrounding you while dodging tourists laughing and posing for pictures. Nearby, bicyclists and joggers zipped by and dogs barked, pulling at their leashes to get at one another while their owners struggled to rein them in but as far as the two of you were concerned, you were the only ones there.

"C'mon, this way," you said, looping your arm with his and leading him off a different path. The smile was permanently stretched across his face the entire time, especially when you had to come to an unexpected stop so a carriage led by a massive Clydesdale could pass by on the trail.

"That horse looks double the size of the horses back home," he remarked in awe when you resumed walking.

"There's all sorts of different breeds," you explained, "we'll probably see a few more before we leave."

You could hear water trickling and you grinned when you looked up at him. "Almost there."

When you finally emerged from your shaded trail to view the massive fountain, Marcus couldn't believe his eyes. He skid to a stop and just stared in wonder at the shallow water surrounded by people eating lunch, families taking pictures, couples sitting close together and children running and playing. Slowly, his gaze drifted around the wide open space, taking in every feature, every flower, every stunning piece of architecture until you finally tugged on his elbow.

"It's called the Bethesda Fountain," you said, pointing to the statue in the middle. "It's an angel, see?"

He nodded, eyes wide with wonder. "She is... beautiful," he whispered, looking like he was in complete awe of the stone statue of the angel draped in long robes with widespread wings behind her, looking over the entire park.

"I think she's holding her arm out as a symbol to bless the waters," you told him, pulling him closer so you could read some of the signage.

"This place is wonderful," he told you, twisting around so he didn't miss a thing. "I cannot believe a place like this exists in such a busy and thriving metropolis."

"Yeah, it is really amazing, isn't it?" you replied. You had lived in New York for so long that you realized you had grown numb to some of its wonder, but seeing it through Marcus's eyes felt like you were seeing it for the first time again.

"You are fortunate to live here," he said, finally looking down at you. "I have never seen a place so grand and spectacular in all my life."

You grinned and stretched up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Looks a lot better with you here," you said with a wink, and you swore you saw his face flush a bit.

The pair of you found an empty bench and sat down for a while. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he hooked an arm around you as you quietly watched the city pass you by.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he murmured as he nuzzled the top of your head. You titled your face up to give him a smile.

"I think this is the most fun I've ever had in this city."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling and his one cheek creating a dimple that you found too irresistible not to kiss, so you did.

"Would you like to just spend the day here or do you want to see something else?"

He looked around the park again with a deep sigh and you could feel his body relax against you. "I am content to do anything, so long as it is with you."

You thought about it for a moment before pulling out your phone and tapping away.

"There's a museum not too far from there that has an exhibition on Ancient Rome," you said. His interest was piqued and he squinted down at your phone. "Would you be interested in that? You could teach me something," you told him with a poke to his ribs. He chuckled and shrugged.

"I fear you are too brilliant for me to teach you anything, but I am intrigued."

You giggled and stood up, hauling him to his feet as you began to lead him back the way you came.

"We can grab something quick to eat along the way."

Marcus was very quiet the first ten minutes inside the museum. He silently read the informative plaques on the walls next to replicas of gladiator helmets and broken spears with his hands clasped behind his back and his expression unreadable. He studied maps and watched a video of a historian talking about the rise of the Roman Empire playing on a loop, and all the while you followed him from room to room, reading what he read and trying to see things through his eyes.

He had a proud smile on his face when you came to a room about the technological advancements of the Roman Empire and how it impacted present day. He had just finished reading about the ways Rome impacted the design of modern day roads and bridges when he saw the next display and his smile faltered.

"What is it?" you asked him softly. His eyes flickered back and forth between a photograph of the Colosseum and an NFL stadium with a little blurb underneath comparing the two.

"You still have..." he drifted off and pointed to the stadium. "Your people still fight to the death?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head furiously, immediately picking up on the tension in his voice.

"Oh, no. No, Marcus. They don't fight, it's a sport. Nobody dies. The stadiums are just built to look like the Colosseum."

He nodded in understanding but you saw the look on his face. Something troubled him and it made your chest ache. You glanced around the room, noticing it was mostly empty, then stepped forward so you stood between him and the display. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, drawing his attention down to you and off the photos.

"What is it?"

He gave you a sad smile and his arms circled your waist.

"There is something I have not told you."

Once again, your eyes flickered around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear before looking back up at him expectantly.

"Daniel and Victor found me because I was fleeing Rome," he said solemnly, and already you could see the shame in his face.

"Why were you fleeing?"

He pressed his lips together tightly before sighing. "I displeased the emperor. I refused to carry out his orders. Orders that would kill thousands of young men simply to make a statement. I could not do it, my love." His hands grew tighter around your middle and you swore you saw tears begin to form but he blinked them away. "As punishment, I was sentenced to become a gladiator. To fight for my life and their entertainment in the arena. So... I fled. I was a coward and I fled."

"You weren't a coward," you whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke his bearded cheek. "You would have died, Marcus. That's not cowardly."

"It was cowardly to not die an honorable death," he argued, but you shook your head.

"It's barbaric and wasteful," you told him. You felt him lean into your touch for comfort. "I'm glad you ran away. If you didn't, I never would have met you."

He couldn't resist. Marcus leaned down and captured your mouth with his, committing the feel of your lips to memory before he had to return home and face his destiny.

"C'mon," you said, stepping away from him and taking his hand in yours with a little smile. "Let's keep looking around."

He didn't let go of your hand after that. You walked together through the rest of the room, reading to yourselves about the architecture of Ancient Rome and how the buildings influenced the White House and the Lincoln Memorial when he stopped dead in his tracks and gawked at the very last photo.

"Is this..." he trailed off, reading the caption before looking at you in shock. "The arena still stands? This image looks to be present day." He pointed to the people standing around the outside of the Colosseum, specifically their clothes and how they looked similar to yours, and you nodded.

"Yeah, it's still there," you told him, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he continued to stare at the picture. "I'm sure it looks different and some of it collapsed with time but it's been maintained and well cared for. It's one of the seven wonders of the world."

He looked at you curiously and you smiled. "It's kind of a big deal," you explained simply.

His fingertips dragged over the glass like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"May we see it before I leave?"

Your face fell and sadness swelled deep in your chest. "No, Marcus, I'm sorry. It's too far away."

He nodded, catching the regret in your eye before dropping the subject and moving on. He would see it soon enough, anyway.

It seemed both of you were determined to keep the rest of your museum visit as light as possible. When you reached the area about art, he told you a story of an artist who created a beautiful portrait of him and presented it to him after winning a huge battle for Rome. With a smile, he told you how pompous he felt when he had it hung in his living space at home but he felt bad not honoring the artist's hard work.

When he excused himself to use the restroom, you sat on a bench and did something you refrained from doing since the moment you met.

You Googled his name.

The cell service was spotty and it took an extra minute, but sure enough his name pulled up some results. You picked the first one, quickly scanning down his multiple military accomplishments until you reached the end. You held your breath as you read the small paragraph, fearful of what you would find out but it was a question that had been plaguing your mind for the past two days and you needed to know.

General Marcus Acacius presumably died in 215 A.D. It was believed he met his demise in battle, however his body was never recovered.

Glancing up to make sure Marcus was still in the bathroom, you shot off a quick text to Danny.

You: What year did you set that time machine when you picked up Marcus?

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you watched your text slowly go from delivered to read, then three little dots appeared.

Danny: 215 A.D.

You closed your eyes and sniffled before tucking your phone into your pocket.

How could you go through with this now that you knew you were sending him back to certain death?

You did your damndest to not let it bother you, but it was hard. Every time you looked at him you wondered what fate had in store when he returned and the pit in your stomach just got heavier and heavier.

You arrived home to a note from Danny reminding you he had to run diagnostic tests on the machine and he wouldn't be home until late, so you both decided to stay in for dinner on your last night together. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill but you could make a decent pasta. Marcus lingered and tried to help but it was evident he was used to others cooking for him, and that was okay. You didn't mind.

When you each sat down to eat, his left hand falling easily to your leg again as he picked up his fork, you had to bite your tongue from screaming stay, please stay. By the way he was glancing in your direction throughout the meal, you had a feeling he wanted to say something, too, but either didn't know how or was too afraid to pop the bubble you had found yourselves in.

After you ate, Marcus made a move to wash the dishes but you quickly stopped him. The time you had left now was too precious to waste on things like that. You didn't say that, of course, but instead you wrapped his arm around you so you could burrow into his chest. Neither of you said a word. You didn't need to. You could both feel each minute ticking away, bringing you closer and closer to morning. You closed your watery eyes and pressed your ear against his chest, listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart, wishing you could somehow bottle it so you could listen to it when he was long gone and you were all alone.

You wished you knew what to say to make it easier, but you couldn't think of a single thing. You tried to put into words how he made you feel without sounding like a complete psychopath, but you came up empty. So you continued to stand quietly in your kitchen, holding one another close, breathing each other in and trying to savor every single second you had together.

He whispered your name so you forced your eyes open and looked up. His eyes were also shiny with unshed tears and that was all it took for your face to crumple and tears to flow freely down your cheeks. He quickly cupped the back of your head and feverishly pressed his lips against yours as his own tears began to fall. How would you be able to get up and make breakfast in that kitchen without thinking of him? How would you be able to ever wash your sheets for fear of losing his scent? Christ, how on earth would you be able to write that month's article without being institutionalized?

"Marcus," you sobbed before locking your lips together again. It was the desperation in your voice that made him bend his knees, grab the backs of your thighs and wrap your legs around his middle so he could walk you both to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

With all the care in the world, he delicately removed your clothes until your naked bodies were tangled together in bed, hands roaming over each other's skin as if you were trying to draw a map.

"Do not cry, my sweet girl," he whispered while hooking one of your legs over his forearm. He tipped his head down for just a moment so he could line himself up with your center before focusing back on you. His thumb wiped the tears from your cheek and he gave you a sad smile. "It would be a waste to spend what time we have left crying."

You nodded and took a few deep breaths before wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss right as he sunk himself inside you. He groaned into your mouth and his grip around your leg tightened until his hips became flush with yours.

"Please, allow me to see you, cor mea," he murmured, and you hadn't even realized your eyes squeezed shut. You opened them and stared up at him looking at you like you were his only salvation. The words crawled up your throat and slid down to the tip of your tongue, begging to be said, but you swallowed them back down.

It was too fast. It was all too fast and you didn't have the luxury of time to figure it out. But what you did have was him, in that very moment, and you refused to waste it.

You bucked your hips up slightly, giving him the green light to move, so he did. He went slow. He took his time dragging the heavy length of him in and out while his mouth never left your skin. If he wasn't kissing your lips then he was kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - anywhere he could reach, he left his mark. It was the type of mark that burned your skin and settled deep below the surface, flowing through your veins and directly into your soul. The kind of mark that made you want to say something your brain thought was incredibly foolish but your heart was screaming otherwise.

To distract yourself from your thoughts, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and tilted to your side. He understood what you wanted and rolled the both of you over so you were on top, gasping for air. The new position had him reaching a spot that made you see stars and you needed to take a moment to collect yourself before you began to move.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, tilting your head back towards the ceiling and shifting your hips ever so slightly. Marcus grinned up at you, his big hands sliding up your thighs to settle on your hips.

"You are so beautiful like this," he told you softly. You dropped your chin back down to look at him, your entire being vibrating with adoration. "You fit around me so perfectly, my love. Do you feel that?" he asked when his cock pulsed inside of you. Your jaw dropped and you nodded. "That is what you do to me. You make me harder than I ever thought imaginable, yet your beautiful body takes me so well."

The praise made your chest warm. You began to roll your hips slowly, savoring every inch of him inside you with your hands braced on his broad shoulders for support when Marcus groaned and leaned forward to catch your breast in his mouth. The feel of his prickly beard against your skin combined with the way he flicked his tongue over your nipple made your back arch and your face pinch with pleasure.

Without warning, Marcus sat up and wrapped one arm around your waist while the other braced himself on the mattress so he could rock his hips in rhythm with yours. Your mouths hovered over each other as you began to move a little faster, your gasps and pants mingling together in the otherwise quiet room.

You could feel the familiar crest building deep inside you and you tried to fight it. Marcus, ever attentive, quickly figured it out and frowned.

"Let go, my sweet," he ordered, but you shook your head.

"I don't want it to end," you whimpered, forehead falling to rest on his shoulder. His arm squeezed around you tighter and his jaw clenched, desperately trying to hold off until you found your release first.

"I plan on taking you as many times as you will allow tonight," he said, lips brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. "Please, let go," he urged, grinding his hips up against you. "My only wish is to take care of you."

Your heart rattled in its cage at his words, your body growing weak and melting into his hold, giving into his request far too easily. With a raspy moan that resembled his name, you reached your climax, body shuddering in his lap while he whispered words of encouragement in your ear.

When he felt you relax, he groaned and started to move faster, your slick coating his length more and more with each deep thrust. You tilted your face from your spot on his shoulder to find his lips, your tongue plunging languidly into his mouth while he continued to fuck up into you. You had never felt so at peace than in that moment with Marcus. His presence was everywhere; his arms were wrapped tightly around your middle, pressing your sweaty chests together so close, you could feel his heart beating in time with yours. His spend, thick and sticky, was leaking out of you and down his shaft after he came. He was so warm and strong and powerful that it had your head spinning and your heart aching for more. And that is exactly what he gave you.

Marcus spent the rest of the night worshipping you. He cleaned you in the shower only to make a mess of you half an hour later. He massaged your hips and legs when they grew too shaky and weak. He held you close, lovingly stroking your hair when you needed a break. And when you finally couldn't keep your eyes open any longer, he wrapped you up in his arms and let you fall asleep on his chest, perfectly calm and content for the last time.

But it wasn't enough.

"Are you alright?"

You kept your eyes squeezed shut and you shook your head. Marcus sighed from his place next to your bed and bent down to tilt your chin up, unearthing your face from your pillow.

"Please look at me," he pleaded. You couldn't deny him anything, but especially so given you only had a few hours left, so you opened your eyes and gazed at him mournfully. He gave you a small smile and lovingly stroked your cheek.

"I will never forget this for as long as I live. You have given me something I never felt worthy of," he said softly. Tears instantly stung your eyes and your lip began to quiver.

"Don't," you whispered thickly. His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and he eagerly leaned forward.

"What?" he whispered. "Do not what?"

Don't go, don't go, don't go.

You were going to say it. You were going to be selfish and beg him not to go, to stay with you because now that you've had him, you can't imagine a life without him. And you fucking swore by the way he was looking at you that he might actually stay.

With your heart pounding nervously in your chest, you reached out for his hand and opened your mouth just to be interrupted by a sharp knock on your bedroom door.

"You guys in there?" Danny called through the wood. "We're all ready to go here. Lizard's waiting in a tow away zone out front, we gotta jet."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to get up, not catching the disappointed look on Marcus's face. You probably looked like shit, your hair was a mess and you hardly got enough sleep, but you didn't care. You tugged on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood over your head before taking Marcus's hand and opening the door. Danny was waiting, leaning against the wall looking at his phone, when you emerged.

"Fun night?" he asked with a wink. You shoved his shoulder and pulled Marcus down the hallway towards your front door, only pausing to grab his weapons and the clothes he arrived in.

"Did you call into work again?" Danny asked just to cut the unbearable silence that filled Lizard's fifteen year old shitty sedan. You nodded and continued to solemnly stare out the window. Marcus took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze but you were finding it difficult to look at him because if you did, you were certain you would burst into tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeated to yourself when you pulled up to the familiar split level, faded green home Lizard grew up in. You took Marcus's hand as you walked behind Danny and Lizard, each heavy step bringing you closer and closer to heartbreak.

"We'll distract his mom, you sneak Marcus down to the basement," Danny told you. You nodded and stared down at the ground, your unusual silence giving your brother pause before he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and turned back around.

"Hey, Mrs. Delio! We're back!" Danny called extra loudly into the house. You quietly snuck in after them while they hurried to the kitchen to stop her from stepping out and seeing you before you could sneak downstairs.

"Are we in a dungeon?" Marcus asked when you turned on the light and he saw the concrete walls and floors with only one small window in the corner of the room. You were about to explain it to him when you spotted the time machine in all it's glory, sitting proudly next to the washer and dryer, and you froze. Marcus felt you stiffen next to him and he turned around only to sadly drop his gaze when he noticed what caught your attention. He twisted your body towards him and took you by both shoulders before taking a deep breath and looking you dead in the eye.

"My love-" he began softly, but then Danny and Lizard came rushing down the stairs. You sniffled and looked away so they wouldn't see how emotional you were, but Marcus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to him.

"We're all set! She's heading out in a few to play bridge, she won't even notice we're gone til we're back," Lizard said as he began to power up the time machine, completely oblivious. You swallowed thickly, eyes still glued to Marcus and heart thumping so fast that you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

"You ready, big guy?" Lizard asked excitedly as he opened the door and peeked inside the tiny vessel. Danny cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Give 'em a minute," he said quietly, and for the first time all week you felt thankful for your little brother. Lizard turned around, his eyes bouncing back and forth between you two until it dawned on him. He nodded before taking a few steps away to pretend to look at something on his computer with Danny in order to give you a little privacy.

"My love," Marcus began again, holding both your hands tightly in his. "It is difficult to put into words how I feel," he said, taking in a shaky breath. "I wish I were able to show you, but I do not have any talents. If I were a poet, I would write sonnets of your eyes. If I were a musician, I would write ballads of your laughter. If I could create art, I would sculpt and paint for hours to capture the essence of your beauty. But I am just a man, and my foolish words will have to suffice."

Fat, hot tears began to unabashedly roll down your cheeks and your eyebrows pinched together as you tried to memorize every single second before it was gone.

One tear fell from the corner of his eye and he gave you a sad smile. "I have never felt like this before-" he said, but you stopped him, unable to hold back any longer.

"I love you," you sobbed, not even noticing the way Danny's head snapped to look at you in surprise. "I know it's fast and stupid but I love you and I'm sorry but I couldn't let you go without telling you."

Marcus grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. Both your lips were trembling and your tears were mixing together on your cheeks but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours before whispering, "And I love you, cor mea. You are my sanctuary. I wish to spend the rest of my days cherishing you and making you happy."

"Then stay," you begged, the words finally slipping past your lips with such earnest desperation, your voice cracked. "Please. Stay with me. Please-"

He pulled you in for another urgent kiss but this time, he wrapped both arms around you and pinned you tightly to his chest, pouring every ounce of emotion he had into it.

"Are- are you certain?" he stammered when he finally released your swollen lips. You gazed up at him with bleary eyes and nodded with a wide smile. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your hand, which was pressed firmly against his chest, and he broke out in a huge grin.

"They couldn't have this conversation before I got a parking ticket this morning?" Lizard muttered to Danny under his breath, but Danny just elbowed him in the side, unable to look away from the two of you with a big smile of his own.

"I never thought I would feel happiness such as this," Marcus whispered in your ear, tears falling freely from both of you but for an entirely different reason now. You giggled into his neck, tugging him even closer, afraid to let him go even though he agreed to stay.

Danny clapped his hands, breaking the two of you up but Marcus still held you protectively against his side and you kept one arm wrapped around his waist when you turned to face your brother.

"So, no time travel today?" he asked, cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

"There is nothing left for me there," Marcus announced, the dread of being a disgraced man on the run or a gladiator becoming a distant memory. "Everything I ever wanted is right here. I apologize to you both for any additional work this has caused."

"No apology necessary," Danny said, squeezing Marcus on the shoulder good-naturedly. Lizard cleared his throat and took a few steps forward. You narrowed your eyes when you saw he was about to speak and quickly cut him off.

"I'll pay for the goddamn parking ticket, Lizard!"

He smiled at you sweetly, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. "So happy for you both, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back up at Marcus.

"Do you want to go home?"

He smiled down at you warmly, his eyes dancing with adoration and happiness before bending forward to brush his lips tenderly over yours.

"Yes, my love. Let us go home."

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[ornateorchid]

poly!141 x reader but when they come home from a mission, you're unable to take off work the following day :(

a/n: yes, this is a repost. i accidentally deleted it instead of making it private so i could fix something.

cw: domestic fluff, gn!reader, gaz and soap are clingy but in a cute way

they often get home at night, so it's not unusual for you to take off the following day. but this time was different.

whether it be a work party or an upcoming project, you were unable to take the day off. you knew your boys would be upset, but you were sure they would understand. they were excited to spend time with their lover after they came home from the grueling mission, so they were understandably dissapointed when they found out. but you weren't going to risk losing your job or an upcoming promotion, and they knew that.

so that is how you found yourself in the bathroom at 7 in the morning, brushing your teeth while your four companions are sleeping in the alaskan king-sized bed. they have no problem staying asleep despite the sound of running water as you get ready for the day. you were lucky that your alarm didn't wake any of them, or so you thought. moments after you finish rinsing your mouth out, kyle shuffles his way into the bathroom and stands in front of the toilet, where he shucks his pants down to relieve himself.

"kyle," you groan, "there's another bathroom, y'know?"

" 'm aware," he grumbles. "this one was just closer. and you're in here," he says as he finishes up his business and makes his way over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes his arms around your side to wash his hands. he takes his time scrubbing his palms together, making sure the soap is all over his hands and between his fingers, before turning the water off. he reaches over to grab the hand towel, but he doesn't leave after he hangs it back up. instead, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses soft and light kisses against your neck.

"don't want you to go," he mutters. "stay in bed and cuddle."

"kyle, i have to," you tell him as you turn around in his arms and lean against the countertop. he leans forward, pressing his body against yours, and rests his head in the crook of your neck. "now go back to bed, or you're going to be grouchy," you insist.

he inhales your scent and gives you one last squeeze before reluctantly following your orders and making his way back towards the bedroom. you finish up in the bathroom before heading to the bedroom to change out of your pajamas. you notice that john and simon are no longer in bed, and kyle and johnny are cuddled up against each other. you grab your phone to take a quick picture of your boys before changing. once you're dressed and ready to go, you place a kiss against each of their cheeks.

the scent of eggs, coffee, and tea fills your nose as you exit the bedroom. you hear quiet chatter coming from the kitchen, which is where you are headed. you walk in to find john at the stove with simon behind him, his arms wrapped around the other man's waist, much like kyle's when you were in the bathroom. you smile at the two before moving towards the island, where there's a plate of bacon, eggs, and a mug filled with tea. simon is the first one to notice your presence.

"good morning, love," he greets. john turns around in his arms and flashes you a tired smile.

"morning," he mumbles.

"morning guys, what are you both doing up?" you ask as you take a sip from the mug sitting on the island.

"simon woke up when kyle left the bed and asked if i wanted some breakfast," john answers. "i was already awake so there was no point in saying no. plus, you and the boys deserve some breakfast as well."

"well, thank you," you say. the three of you continue to make small talk until john and simon finish cooking. johnny and kyle make their way into the kitchen not long after.

"thought i told you to go back to bed," you tell kyle, to which he rolls his eyes.

"johnny was the one who wanted to get up, and that bed is lonely when there's nobody else in it," he replies. you hum and nod before being crushed by johnny in a bear hug.

"missed you this morning, didn't even get a proper kiss!" he whines. you giggle and give him a quick peck on the lips before rubbing his back.

"didn't want to wake you," you justify, and he tsks.

"that's the whole point of a good morning kiss," he states. the five of you chat while finishing your breakfast and washing dishes, and the next thing you know, it's time for you to head out.

"have a good day at work, love," simon says as he places a kiss against your forehead. you give him a sweet smile and nod.

"yeah, we'll miss you," johnny says with a pout.

"it's only 8 hours, don't worry," you assure him, and he huffs.

"you're gonna have to make it up to us later," he replies, and you chuckle.

"and you're going to have to make it up to me for being gone for almost a month," you say before giving him a peck on the lips. you make your way around the room and kiss everyone before grabbing your bag and keys and heading out. they all watch out the window like sad puppies as you get in your car and wave goodbye.

they totally didn't mope around all day until you got home.

banner creds: @cafekitsune

[upsidedownmvnson]

tell me you love me vol 2 | steve harrington

warnings: fluff, more pining

a/n: AHHHHHHHH thanks for the love

tell me you love me vol 1

Steve barely slept. He couldn't focus with you this close to him. He couldn't not love you anymore. And it was worse now, like the entire burden of knowing you love each other was crushing his chest. He wanted you to remember your conversation last night. He needed you to. But also, he didn't. What if you were just drunk? What if you thought your friendship was too valuable to risk?

It was already at risk... he sighed, giving up on trying to sleep and instead just laid with you. Steve couldn't fathom a world without you in it, he didn't want to live a life where he didn't see you every day. He needed you, more than he needed a girlfriend, maybe... maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Steve was in agony.

You shuffled in your sleep, groaning and stretching. The blankets kicked off in the night, and wrapped around your legs, and when you stretched he was forced to endure the torture of your beautiful half naked body. He couldn't look elsewhere, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

He had to get out of here.

The phone ringing was a good excuse to get out of bed, but he didn't know who the hell would be calling this early. It was quickly answered when he picked up only to be met with a word vomit of questions from Robin.

"I don't really remember but I think I just left y/n at the party," Robin was saying, "Is she there? Is she with you?"

"Yeah, she's here," Steve whispered, hoping he didn't sound as exhausted as he felt. "You left her sleeping, dude. Not cool."

"That's fucked," she said, disappointed in herself. "I was not thinking clearly, I woke up in a panic. But she's okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She's still in bed," he said.

"Good, good. I'm really sorry, tell her I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, okay..."

"You okay, Steve? You sound weird."

"No, I'm fine I just..." he sighed, "Robin I can't pretend not to love her anymore. I just - I know it's bad to date in the friend group but... I love her."

"I know you do," she said, "I only said don't date her if you weren't sure. If you're sure then go for it."

"Really? Do you think... do you think it'll work?"

"I don't know," she answered, "but I know you guys are crazy about each other and it's probably time to find out."

Steve hung up the call after promising to tell you that Robin was sorry, very sorry. He didn't want to go upstairs, he still felt confused. Would you remember what you guys had talked about? Would you change your mind? He decided on breakfast, and got to work making some bacon and eggs, deciding he would wake you up when it was ready. But first, he needed coffee.

When you woke up in Steve's bed you were confused, and disappointed he wasn't there. What time was it? The clock read just after eight, and you could smell the breakfast cooking downstairs. You groaned, stretching as much as you could before contemplated getting up or just staying here.

You didn't really remember much after the party, it all got a little fuzzy when you first started falling asleep. You loved this bed, you were staying in this bed every time you stayed over from here on out. In fact, you were never leaving it.

Except the distant call of food being prepared made you get up. The least you could do was go lend a hand.

You tiptoed down the stairs, and tried to peak at Steve in the kitchen. He was still shirtless, drinking his coffee while leaning against the counter, shuffling scrambled eggs around lazily.

The sight of him made you sigh. The ache in your chest only grew with the sight. He was so beautiful, and he just looked so... boyfriend. You wished he could be yours, you wished that you could wake up to this more often.

"Good morning," you said, joining him on the main level.

"Morning," he said, smiling at you. But it was different, it didn't reach his eyes.

"Can I help?" you asked, padding over to him and looking at all the good stuff he had going on.

"No it's okay," he said, "I'm just about done. Make yourself a coffee."

You nodded. But his demeanor was bothering you. He was being cold, distant. He wasn't acting like himself. You wondered if you did something wrong.

"Do you uh, remember much about your party?" he asked, trying to seem casual but you could tell he was prying. Looking for answers about something.

"Most of it yeah," you smiled, sipping the hot coffee. "But I don't really remember leaving, or coming here."

And it would've been impossible to miss how Steve dropped his shoulders, clearly disappointed by your answer. You wanted to say something, but you forgot how to speak. You didn't know what to say.

"Do you want to plate everything?" he asked, slinking out of the kitchen. He mumbled some excuse about the bathroom, and left you alone, thinking about what happened last night.

Breakfast was quiet, save for the tv playing quietly in the background. This was typically your favourite kind of morning, lazily getting up at Steve's, making breakfast together, just hanging out. But the air just felt different today, he didn't want your sous chef help in the kitchen, and there was no charming banter. In fact, he barely looked at you.

When you finished he said, "I guess I should get you home," as if you didn't usually hang around all weekend, and added, "I just gotta change."

And he pushed away from the table, leaving his dirty dishes abandoned. So, you guess he didn't want your help do the dishes either? Something obviously happened, or he wouldn't be this cold with you. You felt your throat getting tight, and held it together as you gathered the dishes, bringing them over to the sink.

You both got dressed, with him loaning you some sweat pants to go with the big shirt you wore to bed so you didn't have to climb into your party outfit. It still reeked of booze.

"Did something happen, Steve?" you asked, unable to tolerate the uneasy air as you both slipped your shoes on. Maybe you... maybe you confessed your feelings to him, and he felt uncomfortable, you did this... Did you ruin everything?

"What?" he asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Uh, nothing," you muttered, not wanting to push his buttons. You didn't want to pry.

"Everything's fine, babe." He put his hand on your shoulder, letting it slide off, and back to his side. "Just a lot on my mind."

Even the drive was quiet, and the tension made you feel like crying. He had the radio playing quietly, but he just didn't seem like he was totally there. But still, every question got stuck in your throat. You guys didn't say a word until he was parked in your driveway, hands remained clutched on the wheel.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked, hoping that your movie plans with Robin were even still on.

"Yeah, of course. I'll call you later..."

Now or never. "Is everything okay, Steve? You're being so quiet. I feel like you're trying to push me away."

He looked at you with those beautiful eyes, those beautiful, sad eyes and you could see his anguish, you could see there was something he couldn't say. Words were being left unsaid. Was he scared? What was he scared of? You thought... you really thought he could tell you anything.

"I'm fine," he said finally, giving you another small, fake smile.

You faked a smile, trying not to show that your heart dropped into your stomach. You had this painful fear that you'd told him that you loved him, and he'd wished you hadn't. What the fuck happened between the party and Steve's house? It was killing you. His pain was torture, and you wouldn't forgive yourself if you'd ruined the most important relationship in your life.

You nodded, and patted his leg before climbing out the car, shuffling inside before he could see how concerned you were about him.

You leaned on a wall near the door, just pondering what happened. You woke up in his bed, usually you slept in the guest room, or when you were really drunk you'd even crash on the couch. Did you being in his space make him unhappy? Maybe you were stubborn, refusing to leave his bed until he loved you. But, that didn't seem like something you would do.

A knock on the door kicked you out of your thoughts.

You opened it, and Steve was there, standing still, breathing heavy. When the door fully opened, he nearly sprung at you, not intimidatingly but like... like he couldn't stop himself from scooping up your cheeks in his hands and kissing you.

And Steve was kissing you like a starving man. Like this was the moment he'd waited for his whole life. He was soft, and tender but also desperate and passionate and you could feel everything. You could feel how he felt. Like you were one person. You kissed him back, taken by surprise but delighted. You loved him. And he loved you. And being together like this just felt right.

You moaned, unable to deny the sparks between the two of you for one more moment.

His lips were just so soft, and warm. And as his thumbs rubbed your cheeks soothingly, you thought for sure your knees would buckle from the romance of it all. You swooned, this was real life swooning.

"Tell me you love me," he whispered, barely pulling away to say it. You realize he's crying, barely, lightly, but he is, because this is the scariest thing he's ever done. He thinks that he'll perish, die if you don't actually love him back. And he's immediately returned to kissing you, backing you both up until your back hit the living room wall. "Please," he begged, breathless and desperate to hear it. He had to hear it. He was sure he would die if you didn't say it. He has to know he wasn't wrong to risk it all...

And everything came rushing back. Laying across from Steve, asking him if you were in love. Confessing your love for him and telling him him that you would still love him in the morning...

And you did.

Of course you did.

You think there's a part of you that has loved Steve since the moment you met.

He feels like home. Just being near him makes you feel safe, and comfortable. He was everything you needed, and you two were idiots to wait this long to confess. But, better late than never.

"I love you," you whispered, mumbling against his lips, returning his feverish kisses. His hands trailed down to your hips, gripping tightly and pressing himself into you. Trying to mold himself to you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close as he could get. He was a part of you, a part of your heart.

His tongue rolled into your mouth, and the grip he had on your hips tightened, making you moan again. And then he slowed, kissing you slowly. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, and pulled away, letting it slip out of his grip and back into place. He kissed you tenderly a few times.

"Say it again," he said, pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. It wasn't demanding, it was loving. He wanted to hear you say it over and over for the rest of his life.

You were breathless, but you still whispered, "I love you."

"I love you," he said, kissing you one more time. "I can't stop it, I don't want to stop it," he said. "I love you, y/n. And I want to be with you... if you'll have me."

"I love you Steve," you said, relieved that you could just love him without the longing, without the pining, and the hiding. You two were free.

"Again," he demanded, smiling, and the smile made it all the way back to his eyes. And he was himself again.

"Don't want to wear it out," you laughed, pulling him into a hug. And you held him there for a while.

"Never," he whispered, "I'll never get tired of it, I promise you that."

TAGLIST: @thebeatles-world @thatbItchs-world @plk-18 @pausmoon @onlyangle1

[henza-hex]

My Husband's Secret 4

Edward's POV

Leo came back from work yesterday a little aloof, he didn't talk much and spent most of the time reading something on his phone. I quickly got bored and went to sleep mad that he didn't give me any attention, and woke up even worse now that he's not on the other side of the bed.

I got out of bed and went stomping downstairs, he would hear a lot from me, don't wanna know how busy he was.

When I got to the kitchen, where I heard some noise, I couldn't help but gasp to this view:

Sagging, cheeks almost eating his underwear, and a slobby demeanor. Leo is not usually like this, even in our intimacy, although hot, I found it weird.

While he was trying to find something on the lower shelves, he noticed me.

"Finally youre awake, bro. I'm so hungry this morning that I almost thought of making ny own breakfast." He says, as he makes himself comfortable in the chair, putting his feet on the table. "Now you can make one for me."

I was very outraged. Horny, but mad. What is this? It's like he opened my secret diary and read all my fantasies.

"I'm not your bro, baby! What are you talking about? Can't you make breakfast for yourself?" I ask.

He gets up and look me straight into the eye: "What's the point of having a roomate then?"

When he said that, I got chills. So he was playing that? I remember having a roomate way before I met Leo. He was very hot, but wasn't one straight out of those 'alpha doms' fictions, so I could only imagine... and now finally becoming true? I decided to play along.

"The point of a roomate is to keep this house balanced together!" I say as I knock his feet off the table.

He got out of character just for a second to acknowledge that I got it. That stupid smirk.

He gets up and tower over me. I can only feel his hand grabbing the back of my head, burrying me on his hairy pits. How is he so sweaty this hour in the morning?

"The balance is you beneath me, gotcha? If I cook our breakfast, you are eating it straight of my feet." He said in a dominating tone.

Ugh. The same time his pits are warm and damp, I nodded with my head in agreement, cause the stink was too much.

"Good boy. Eggs, bacon, and milk."

"But you-"

"Don't wanna hear about my intolerance, or else youre down to the pits again."

I made our breakfast while he waited scratching his balls.

"Not gonna wash it?" I asked just to tease, and recieved a smash of his hands on my face.

"Clean, haha." He mocked and started to eat. Before I could grab anything, he took my plate too, and that left me a little pissed... play or not, I had to eat.

"Hey! That was mine!" I said with some anger this time. He completely ignored me, and finished his meal by chugging the glass of milk.

EEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP

He shamelessly belched, patting his belly. "Oh, you want some? Here." In a quick move, he got up and turned around, taking advantage that I was sat, and my face was on the level of his ass. Hos cheeks molded all over my face, as he rubbed it to try to pry my mouth open.

"Eat that... HNNNG-"

PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

RIght on my mouth. It rumbled deeply by it's bassiness, and I can't even start with the taste. Terrible. I gagged and suffocated, passing out slowly, the last words I heard were: "Bon appetit, loser haha."

Leo's POV

It worked! Now quick, before he wakes up, I need to get the next character ready...

I was never a bully, but yesterday I found his old diary, and he wrote about that a lot, luckily I practiced some sports and still have some of my team's old gear... at least smells like it's not washed since high school too, good lord.

I check myself on the mirror, and those are so tight too, got so much bigger. Pretty sure he will love it.

I come back to where I left him and see that he is waking up. Think of something bully-ish...

OOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!

I easily rip a monstruous belch that takes him out of this lazy state in a second. Aa he opens his eyes, I make sure this the first thing he sees:

"Where am I?" He loosely asked.

"Where are you? In the locker room, loser. Now begin to do your job and sniff it!" I didn't give time for him to respond, I did. I sat on his face, full on his face. It kinda felt good to sense his nose finding his way into my crack, speacilly that I know he is secretely taking a big whiff of that... I could get used to this.

"Yeeah, take a big whiff of that..." I said as I felt my stomach churn wildly because of my earlier breakfast. Now was time for his real lunch.

HNNG.... FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTT... it bubbled and rumbled so disgustingly that I felt bad for his poor face.

Me, not the bully Leo. "No, no, no, I got a lot more..." I said as I refused to give him a breath of fresh air and push another nasty one... PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBBBBFFFFTTTT...

I lifted my ass a little just to have a look at his face and see if he is alright. Sweating, teary eyed, red from suffocating, and even though he managed to wink at me. Top tier bastard.

He was about to say something, and bully Leo took control. I descended my ass on his face again, and...

"Shouldn't have kept your mouth open, loser..." I enjoyed his feeble attempts to take me off of him, as I knew the next one was going to ne serious, I clenched my fists, closed my eyes and pushed real hard

"FART BOMB!" PBPBPBPBPPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBBBBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Edward's POV

The last one felt like a punch, I'm never feeding him milk and eggs at the morning, I fear for my life. But let me ask again...

"Where am I?" I hear footsteps into the room, and he comes in... now in a suit. I'm sure he wants to kill me.

"Mr. Rogers, you failed the last exam. I'm afraid I'll have to punish you."

"P-punish me? But I can assure you I'll study harder fir the next one, please!"

"If you get the answers right, I won't inflict you any punishment."

"But if I get it wrong?" I knew the answer and of course had to ask. He slowly descends to my level, face to face, answering me with long and deep belch.

OOOOOoooOOOOOUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrppppppp...Phoooshhh

And blowing it all afterwards.

"Understood? Now let's begin." Leo turns around and points his ass to my face. "Mr. Rogers, could you answer about..."

He proceeded to ask, and the only thing I could pay attention was this:

"Unfortunately oogling at my ass is not the right answer, mr. Rogers." He finished his sentence with a bang, farting full and real loud on my face.

FFRDRDRFFFFFFFRFRRRFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

Couldn't ask for a better punishment...

[sunsetsimon]

i love your stuff about big eater simon with a reader who doesn't eat a lot, but i was wondering if you could do something with a reader whose appetite is as big as his?

☼ quality time is simon’s main love language, and eating is one of his favorite things to do, so being able to have you keep up with him in terms of appetite? he’s even more in love than he already was before.

it’s no surprise that a man his size with his lifestyle has to eat a lot to maintain himself, but i think people underestimate how much simon can really eat.

he’s not big on eating out, so most meals he’s making himself unless you offer to cook instead. a normal breakfast for him would consist of 5 or 6 eggs scrambled (or over-easy depending on his mood), at least 4 links of sausage, a side of potatoes, and some mixed veggies. sometimes he’ll even have baked beans and toast as well before topping it off with a homemade protein shake.

your grocery bill is hundreds because of how much the two of you eat, which he pays for of course, but he tries to be really good about using all the ingredients you already have at home to not be wasteful.

☼ so when big si is scarfing down his breakfast, his heart just swells seeing you keeping up with him. it’s a bonding experience for him to sit next to you while eating meals, talking about your day or watching a show in between each bite. your plate isn’t as big as his of course, but watching you eat a bigger amount of food makes him feel whole. simon just wants you to be happy and healthy, and knowing you’re eating well just marks those things off of his list.

plus he has so much fun cooking with you! he isn’t the best chef and only has a few things he knows how to make, but being led in the kitchen by you is so hot to him. he's a man who can take orders, but fuck they're so much better when they come from you.

☼ he eats pretty healthily for the most part, but he loves snacking. you can't be sitting on the couch for more than 10 minutes before he's standing up, "do you want some donuts, love?"

"simon we just ate dinner 20 minutes ago."

"okay... so is that a no?"

"hmm.. no, give me a few."

he chuckles as he already knew your answer, grabbing his favorite snack of white powdered donuts and cold milk to share with you. the entire bag ends up gone in that one sitting, and he just complains about how it's not his fault because they're so small! even though he purposely grabs the mini's every time, saying it'll make him eat less - yeah right.

☼ it's a breath of fresh air for him to be with someone who doesn't judge him on his consumption, he's just a big hungry man. although he has normal confidence and understands he has to eat a lot to maintain his shape, it can make anyone feel a bit insecure hearing comments of "wow you're eating all of that?!" si loves to indulge on anything food related, so the second you mention wanting something he's ready to go get it!

☼ also, he totally studies the menu before he goes anywhere new. opening the safari app on his phone, there's at least 1 menu to a restaurant in his tabs at all times. while trying to choose where to go for your dinner date, he's searching every restaurant, naming dishes off the menu he thinks you'd like. the choice is always yours though! he just wants to eat with you :)

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 5)

Word count: 2700

Warnings: super brief mention of smut

Taglist:@stayevildarling @i-just-cannot @hazey-g @buttercandy16 @320viada @evilangels-stuff @rmaximoff @morganismspam23 @aboutcustardcreams @sasheemo @rigglemethat @walkethisway @mommywandas

A/N: I apologize in advance for this one hehe. Next chapter will be more satisying ;)

When you wake up, you are alone with a pounding headache. You roll over with a grunt and reach a hand out to touch the pillow next to you, see if it still has Agatha’s warmth, but doesn’t. You can’t help but feel stung even though you know you’re being irrational. Of course she wasn’t going to spend the night with you. She probably untangled herself from you the second you’d fallen asleep. 

But you remember the way her body felt curled around yours and you sigh. You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. Her words from the pool last night echo in your head. Last night, they were daring almost, but in the cold light of morning, they are a warning. She is married to your father and twice your age. You can’t be doing this with her, whatever it is. 

You check the time and realize you’ve slept in later than you usually do. You begrudgingly get out of bed and brush your teeth, staring at your pale face in the mirror. Agatha doesn’t want you, you tell yourself. You’re just reading into things. 

More than just a small part of you is disappointed. 

You dig around your closet and are able to find a pair of shorts and a sweater in your closet to throw on. You’re spending the day with Agatha and your dad, still unsure of the plans. 

You check your phone and see five missed calls and 27 texts from Wanda, checking to make sure you were alright. You hadn’t been able to find her before you left the party last night but according to her texts, Rio had seen you get into a car and told Wanda. 

You shoot her a quick text letting her know you’re alive and that you made it home safely. You want to open up to your friend about your night with Agatha but you don’t think Wanda would understand. 

When you go downstairs, the smell of bacon and eggs reaches your nose and you see your step-mother at the stove cooking. 

“Good morning,” you say groggily, taking a seat on a stool at the island. The bacon sizzles and you wince at the noise. She turns around and smiles, always the picture of perfection.

“How are you feeling?” 

You moan in response, dropping your head onto the cool countertop. It feels good and dulls the pain in your head just a little. 

“I remember those days,” she says fondly with a chuckle. And then she places a plate down next to you just a bit too loudly for it to be an accident. 

“Heyyy,” you whine, lifting your head slightly to glare at her. 

“Eat up. You’ll feel better.” You grumble and do as you’re told. While you’re eating, she continues talking. “Your father will be home soon. Have you thought about what you want to do today?”

“Is laying on the couch for the next seven hours an option?”

Agatha smirks. “Unfortunately for you, no. But we could watch a movie or something.” She regards the miserable state you’re in. “Do you want me to get you some advil?” You nod pathetically. 

She leaves the kitchen and you hear her footsteps on the stairs. You’re a little hurt that she hasn’t even mentioned last night. Should you bring it up? You scoff at yourself. What would you even say? Why didn’t you stay with me? or Hey, wanna get back in the pool? 

She is obviously trying to set boundaries and you can do that. You can be good. Better for everyone that way. 

And then she comes back in, places two pills in front of you, and casually says, “You talk in your sleep.” 

Your cheeks heat up immediately. “Um, what did I say?” 

She smirks. “Sounded like you were having a good dream.”

“I don’t even remember what I was–” And fuck, your dream comes back to you in flashes. Agatha pushing you against the side of her pool, grinding her thigh up between your legs. Her telling you to hump it like the desperate little girl that you are. Your eyes widen, horrified. Was that the reason she left? You must’ve been moaning, or even worse, did you say her name? You vaguely remember her leg between yours last night before drifting off, were you moving on it? You drop your head into your hands, the flush from your face spreading all down your neck.“I’m so sorry,” you say through your fingers, determined to never look at Agatha ever again. 

She laughs. “Don’t be, it’s not like you could control it. So, who were you thinking about?” You peek up to see her leaning on her elbows over the counter, eyes wide. You definitely don’t notice how her position pushes her breasts up and closer together, giving you a much better look at her cleavage. 

At least you didn’t moan her name in your sleep. 

“Uh-” you say, mind racing to think of literally anyone besides her. Thankfully, that’s the moment you hear the garage open. You’ve never been so excited for your dad to be home. Agatha winks knowingly and takes your empty plate, rinsing it off in the sink.

“My favorite ladies!” Your dad exclaims as he walks into the kitchen. You offer him a tight-lipped smile and Agatha pats his arm when he leans in to kiss her cheek. You tune out when Agatha asks him about his meetings and he starts recounting his trip. You’ve listened to your fair share of boring work stories from him. 

“So, sweet pea, what’s on the agenda today?” He asks, bringing you back to focus.

“Maybe we can watch some Desperate Housewives?” Before the divorce, you and your dad had spent quite a lot of time together watching TV shows, Desperate Housewives being one of your favorites. 

He smiles. “Sounds perfect. Let me go take a shower and then we can start.”

Agatha busies herself by cleaning up the kitchen while you flop onto the couch. Your headache is starting to subside but you still feel gross from the hangover. You close your eyes and float somewhere between consciousness and sleep until your dad finally comes back downstairs. 

“Alright, what season are we watching?” He asks, handing you the remote. Agatha sits down next to you, pulling a blanket over the two of you and he sits on the other side of her. You flick through the episodes, picking one from season 6 at random. 

You had to admit, it is actually nice to sit here with Agatha and your dad. You feel a sense of peace that you usually don’t when you’re at this house. 

And then you remember what episode this is. The one where Katherine realizes that she might have feelings for Robin and has a fantasy about her. A hot fantasy. You swallow and squirm, your leg starting to bounce anxiously. Normally, you wouldn’t be so affected by the scene on the TV, but you’re suddenly hyper aware of the woman sitting next to you. 

Agatha, seemingly having enough of your leg tapping, reaches her hand out underneath the blanket and places it squarely on your thigh. 

You stifle a gasp and freeze. You forget how to breathe when she starts to slowly drag her nails up and down your leg, pausing every time when they reach the juncture between your leg and hip. You can literally feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. 

She continues doing that for the rest of the episode and you just grow needier and needier with every passing second. So you slowly let your legs fall more open. She glances at you out of the corner of her eye so your dad doesn’t notice, the hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. 

Her hand slides to the inside of your thigh and this time you can’t hold back your sharp intake of air. 

“You okay?” Your dad asks, looking over Agatha to check on you. She squeezes your leg playfully, sending jolts of electricity right to your cunt. 

You nod, not trusting that your voice won’t waver and give your state of arousal away. 

Agatha slowly leans into you, mouth pressing against your ear, hand moving closer to the center of your legs, and whispers, “Good girl.” 

An honest-to-god whimper slips out of your mouth and you cover it up with a cough. “I’m gonna go get some water,” you choke out and practically jump off the couch like you’ve been burned. 

Agatha just smirks. 

In the kitchen, you take deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves. You can’t be imagining it now. Whatever Agatha is doing, it is completely on purpose. You can still feel her heated touch on your thigh and your stomach is still in flames. 

You grab a glass of water and head back to the living room, mentally preparing for more of Agatha’s touches. 

You walk back in the living room and stop dead in your tracks. On the couch, illuminated by the glow of the TV, is Agatha and your dad kissing. 

You drop the glass. It’s the fourth thing you’ve broken in their house in the past two days, if anyone is keeping track. But that’s not what you’re focused on. 

They break apart and whirl toward the sound of the noise. Your dad stands up, apologizing, but you don’t even see him. You’re too busy staring at Agatha, who is chewing on her lip, looking back at you. Her gaze is filled with concern and – fuck, is that pity? 

You scoff. Of course it is. You inwardly curse at letting yourself be so stupid, feelings of betrayal and anger coursing through your veins replacing the desire you had just been feeling. 

You turn on your heel and rush upstairs, throwing your clothes from last night that are folded on your bed into a bag. You pick up your phone and scroll through your contact list, hitting the call button. 

“Please pick up,” you mutter to yourself, pacing back and forth. 

Finally on the third ring, she does. “Hello?” Rio Vidal asks, sounding surprised. 

“Hey, Rio. Do you want to go do something right now?” 

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I’d love to. What do you want to do?” 

“Let’s go to a bar and get older people to buy us drinks,” you say, your stomach already protesting at the thought of consuming more alcohol after last night. 

You can tell she feels the same way by her long groan.

“Okay, fine. We don’t have to drink. But we can still go dance and have fun. Please?” 

“Okay. What time?”

You check your watch. It’s early in the afternoon but you can’t stand to spend another minute in this house. “How about in an hour? I’ll pick you up?” 

She agrees and you hang up. And now for getting out of here. 

Both your dad and Agatha watch you as you walk back down the stairs. “Everything okay?” Your dad asks tentatively. 

“Wanda’s kind of having an emergency right now. Would you be able to take me back to Mom’s house so I can go be with her? My car’s there.” You don’t even look at Agatha but you can feel her eyes locked on you.

Your dad frowns. “How did you get here then?” 

You can’t help but glance at the older woman, your brain trying to think of something quick. 

“I picked her up this morning,” Agatha quickly jumps in. “I just figured it would be easier that way if we went somewhere.” You fight the urge to give her a grateful look, rage still curling around your insides. 

“Okay, yeah, sure,” your dad sighs. “I was kind of hoping we could spend the day together.” 

“Me, too,” you say half-heartedly. “Maybe next weekend though? I’m sorry, Wanda really needs me.” 

“Let me grab my keys,” he says, leaving the room. You walk straight to the front door, ignoring Agatha saying your name. 

The car ride home is filled with awkward conversation about school and work. Nothing out of the usual there, though. He pulls into the driveway and parks the car, turning towards you. You can hardly wait for whatever he’s going to say next. 

“How’s your mother doing?” He used to ask you that all the time when the divorce first happened, but not so much anymore. Not since Agatha. 

“She’s good,” you say softly. He nods like he’s glad to hear it. And then you step out of the car and go into your mom’s house to get ready. 

***

Rio swings open the door almost immediately after your first knock. She’s wearing a cute green dress that pairs nicely with your purple dress. 

“You ready?” You ask and she shuts the door behind her, following you to your car. “How was the rest of the party last night?

She shrugs. “It was fine. I threw up a few times. Nat and Marie won like three more games of beer pong.”

“Of course they did.” The rest of the ride is silent. Rio’s not a big talker and you don’t feel like saying much. 

The Hex is the only 18+ bar in Westview and you’ve been a couple times before. You find it slightly disgusting, but you need to take your mind off Agatha. You were being stupid, you realize that now. 

The line is short, on account of it still being pretty early, and not many people are in the bar. You and Rio find a secluded table to sit at and you order some chips and queso and drinks. The two of you fall into easy conversation now, pointing out things about the other people there. You’re both in the middle of giggling when all of a sudden the music turns on and people start to make their way to the middle of the floor that’s clear. 

“Come on!” You jump up and grab Rio, leading her to the center. She rolls her eyes amusedly but comes willingly. You lose yourself in the music, spinning around with Rio until you see someone with long dark hair. You suddenly stop. The woman turns around and it’s someone you don’t recognize. 

You scowl. 

There’s another brunette dancing with a man, arms around his shoulders. They’re kissing and all you can think about is your dad and Agatha. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Rio shouts over the music. She’s stopped dancing now too and is gently touching your shoulder. Before you can even think, you grasp her cheeks with your hands and pull her into a kiss. 

She kisses you back, her hands flying to your shoulders but you can’t get the thought of Agatha out of your head. Rio’s mouth feels good against yours but you just keep picturing that you’re kissing the older woman. 

“Fuck,” you say in frustration, pulling away, realizing that your eyes are welling up. “I’m sorry.” And then you’re storming off to the bathroom, Rio hot on your heels. 

You’re breathing hard, fists clenching the sink, when the door opens. 

“Hey,” Rio says with uncharacteristic gentleness. She strokes her fingers through your hair, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. You turn around, blinking back tears. “What’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, sniffling. “There’s this woman that I like but she’s with someone else and I thought that she might like me but I’m just an idiot.” Venting about it feels good, even if you can’t tell her the exact details. 

Her face softens. “Well, she’s a fool.” You choke out a laugh, wiping the snot from your nose with the back of your hand. 

“Thank you. For saying that, for coming with me tonight.”

She smiles. “Of course.” 

“Could you, um, could you give me a minute?” You ask and she nods with understanding and slips out the door. You take a shaky breath and look back at yourself in the mirror. You have a cute girl out there who likes you. Stop acting pathetic over a middle-aged woman and get your act together, you tell yourself. 

You straighten yourself up and leave the bathroom. You spot Rio across the bar and you’re making your way over to her when someone grabs your wrist tightly. 

“Hey, ouch!” You exclaim, turning to see who it is. 

Now, this time, it’s a brunette you do know. 

And she looks pissed. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Agatha hisses. 

[megaderping]

I feel like when people compare Akechi to Light Yagami, they fundamentally misunderstand his character. Their similarities really end at their designs, and Light is the kind of person Akechi would despise. Light Yagami lives a pretty privileged life at the start of Death Note. He has a stable home, with two parents and a sister who care about him. He's a successful student. There isn't really inherent tragedy to his life. The whole reason he starts using the Death Note is a mix of curiosity and a jaded worldview, and when it works it empowers him, very quickly goes to his head, as he believes he is one who can be a god of a "new world" once the shock of his initial kills wears off. While his first kill was to help someone, that altruism didn't last. He is in charge of his choices, while Ryuk mostly vibes and maybe eggs him on a little. Fundamentally, Light has something Akechi lacks: agency, and a comfortable life he took for granted. Meanwhile, Akechi is someone who lived on the bottom rung of Japanese society. His very existence is shameful there, between his mother being a sex worker, his status as an illegitimate/"throw away" child, and his mother's suicide. Years languishing in a foster system that is notoriously inhumane, in a country where 90% of the adoptions are grown men for inheritance and patriarchal reasons, while very few children in the system find permanent homes. When Akechi awakens his power, he approaches Shido not because he wants to kill people but for a stupid revenge plan cooked up by a traumatized child who's been nudged along by a malevolent god. He wants to build Shido up so that at the height of his power, he can expose him for the monster he really is, while another part of him genuinely wants to be useful to Shido, as Cogkechi later calls out. His feelings are a mess of contradictions, and so it's no surprise that Shido was able to mold him into his assassin at only 15 years old. It's also worth noting that Akechi only approaches Shido with his ability to cause psychotic breakdowns. Shido is the one who teaches and instructs him to do shutdowns. He's still complicit, very sunk cost with his revenge plan, but as I spoke of here, even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't alone. Shido's cleaner and control of the law and ability to effortlessly turn him in would render the Metaverse his only safe haven. I think people look at 11/20 Akechi and Akechi in the early parts of the engine room and assume that's just his "true self," when in reality it's another mask. Royal makes it very clear because in Rank 7, he outright warns Joker of what's to come via a pool metaphor and offers an out (though he's MUCH happier if you don't take it/stick to your principles), and in Rank 8, he goes on that big "I hate you" speech... while Sunset Bridge is playing. Y'know, the song that plays at the end of most confidants to reaffirm bonds. So when he smiles as he shoots what he assumes to be Joker, that doesn't mean he's genuinely happy. More likely, he's an emotional clusterfuck, given he also is disoriented enough to namedrop "Shido-san" over the phone, and in the subsequent meeting with Shido, tells him not to kill the Phantom Thieves and that Morgana is "just a cat." Yes, he says they'll make them fear for the rest of their lives, but remember, he's talking to Shido. The things he says are likely all incredibly calculated to sound appealing to Shido. And when you consider that he planned to utterly destroy Shido's reputation after the election, the "delay" makes even more sense.

Later, Akechi goes on about how the people he induced shutdowns on were deserving of their fates, but I don't think he believes it so much as it's the only way he could convince himself that it was worth it, and given how much society failed him, and given how many of the people he targeted were likely rivals/competitors or rich fucks, I think he'd be less inclined to assume good faith. Kunikazu Okumura was not an innocent little victim, after all. He was one of the people who requested breakdowns and shutdowns the most. I think Akechi enjoyed killing him not because of how it'd hurt Haru, but because of catharsis. Because Okumura is just as monstrous as Shido, so why should he feel remorse? However, I don't believe he feels the same about Wakaba, as when he discusses her with Shido, he mentions how her fate was because she refused to willingly work for him. It's another justification, but I personally think Wakaba's death was the most painful for him because he was effectively making Futaba just like him. That's why I think his reaction to Sae threatening Sojiro's custody was genuine. Anyway, evil grinning Akechi is just another mask, as I said. Keep in mind, this is someone who laments not meeting Joker years ago, someone who Morgana outright points out is lying about his hatred. And that's the thing. Light Yagami, while a really fascinating character, is not someone who had all this childhood suffering or lack of agency. He does not regret his actions in the slightest and goes down due to his own hubris in both the anime and the manga. While you can argue that Ryuk set him up by dropping the Death Note, Light was the one who picked it up and chose to use it. Any nudging from Ryuk didn't coerce Light into doing it because Light seized the opportunity. No, if Light Yagami is like anyone in Persona 5, it's Masayoshi Shido, not Goro Akechi. Both believe they are god/god's chosen, that they are the ones who will reshape the world to their ideals, and to be frank, both use and abuse women to serve their own purposes. Goro Akechi goes down sacrificing himself for the Thieves and pleading with them to stop his father and again in Maruki's reality when he refuses to let Joker accept a gilded prison of a world for his sake when he knows better than anyone what it's like to have no true freedom. If you max his confidant, you see him in the postcredits, leaving his survival entirely possible, and I think it works because at the end of the day, Akechi was meant to be a victim and a foil. Light is a villain protagonist and a cautionary tale. Though its his POV we follow, he isn't someone we're meant to root for, but I definitely don't think enjoying the character is a bad thing at all. He's really interesting! I just think that a lot of the Akechi and Light comparisons are surface level at best.

[goldfades]

COCKY ─── QUINN HUGHES

request: "omg could you pls do quinn hughes + couple tiktok trends <3"

The living room is flooded with the soft glow of the TV, casting a cozy haze over the slightly cluttered space. Quinn is sprawled out on the couch, hoodie half-zipped, and socks mismatched, scrolling through his phone with the kind of focus he usually reserves for hockey tape jobs. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, phone propped up on the coffee table, the TikTok app open and taunting you with its endless rabbit hole of trends.

It started as a joke—something to pass the time while Quinn’s team was on a rare break. But it didn’t take long for you to realize that getting him to participate in TikTok couple trends was way too easy. He’d say no at first, always the picture of stoic reluctance, but then you’d bat your eyes, tilt your head just enough, and he’d sigh in defeat like clockwork. “Fine, but only one,” he’d always mutter, knowing full well he was about to film at least five.

Tonight, though, you’ve got something special in mind. You’ve seen the trend a dozen times: girlfriends quizzing their boyfriends on things they’re almost guaranteed to get hilariously wrong, but reacting like they’ve just unlocked the secrets of the universe. The best part? Quinn’s sweet spot is his competitiveness—he genuinely likes being good at things. Even if those things are, well, completely unrelated to reality.

“Babe,” you call, dragging out the word as you wiggle your way onto the couch beside him.

He glances up, suspicion already brewing in his eyes. “What?”

“You trust me, right?”

“That’s a dangerous question.”

“C’mon, it’s just a quick TikTok. Super easy.”

He squints at you, leaning back into the cushions. “You said that last time, and then you made me guess your favorite color while holding an egg. What was the point of the egg?”

“None, but it was hilarious. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” You grab his hand and tug him upright. “This one’s even easier, I promise. All you have to do is guess what things mean.”

“Like trivia?” He perks up slightly, his competitive streak flickering to life.

“Exactly,” you say, biting back a grin. Oh, this is going to be so good.

Quinn sits cross-legged on the couch now, facing you with his arms loosely folded over his chest, his expression a mix of cautious interest and the tiniest sliver of smug confidence. You set the phone up on the coffee table, adjusting the angle until the two of you are perfectly framed. He leans in to inspect it, pointing at the screen.

“Wait, is this live?” he asks, eyebrows shooting up.

“No, it’s a draft. We’re not live. Relax,” you laugh, lightly swatting at his arm. “Okay, are you ready?”

“I was born ready,” he says with a mock-serious tone, earning an eye-roll from you. He smirks.

“Alright,” you begin, sitting up straighter, adopting your most serious, quizmaster tone. “First question: what is a pap smear?”

His brow furrows as he leans back, clearly thrown off by the question. He taps his fingers against his knee like he’s analyzing game footage. “Pap smear…” he repeats, drawing the words out as if they might reveal their meaning if he says them slowly enough. “It’s… a type of makeup? Like… winged liner or something?”

Your jaw drops in mock shock, and you let out a gasp that could win an Oscar. “Oh my god, yes! That’s exactly it!” you exclaim, clapping your hands together.

His face lights up, the corners of his mouth quirking into a proud grin. “Really? I was just guessing.”

“Quinn, you’re so smart,” you gush, leaning closer like you’re genuinely in awe. “I don’t know how you do it.”

He straightens up, his shoulders squaring. “Well, you know, I pay attention. I pick things up.”

You suppress a laugh and move on, scrolling to the next “question” in your mental list. “Okay, next one. What’s the difference between toner and micellar water?”

“Oh, easy,” he says immediately, waving a dismissive hand. “Toner is for your hair, and micellar water is… like, for cooking. Like rice water or something.”

You press your lips together, eyes widening in faux amazement. “Stop it right now. That’s… exactly right. Are you secretly a dermatologist or something?”

He runs a hand through his hair, his grin growing even wider. “Nah, I just know stuff. You’d be surprised how much I pick up from you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, the way he’s sitting there all puffed up like he just nailed a final exam making it almost too much to handle. But you’re committed.

“Okay, okay, next one’s a little harder,” you say, putting on a thoughtful expression. “What’s a menstrual cup?”

He pauses for a moment, his confidence faltering just a touch. “Uh…” His fingers drum against his thigh as he considers it. “Like… a trophy? For… women’s sports?”

You gasp dramatically again, throwing your hands up like he’s just hit the jackpot. “Yes! Oh my god, Quinn, you’re literally on fire right now. I didn’t think you’d get that one.”

He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “I mean, come on, you’re not giving me enough credit here. I know things.”

“You really do,” you say earnestly, watching as he practically glows under the praise. You’re pretty sure his ego has reached dangerous levels, but the sight of him so genuinely excited—and so hilariously wrong—has you biting back giggles.

“Okay, last one,” you say, holding up a finger. “What is… a cuticle pusher?”

His face twists in concentration. “A cuticle pusher… that’s gotta be, like, a tiny rake? For gardening? Like… for plants in small pots or something?”

You slap your hands over your mouth, your eyes going wide with mock amazement. “Oh. My. God. YES. How did you even know that? Did you take a secret gardening class or something?”

He throws his head back, laughing, clearly reveling in his perfect score. “I knew that one would get you. I told you, I’m good at this stuff.”

You can’t hold it in anymore and dissolve into laughter, leaning into his shoulder as he looks down at you, still grinning. “What?” he asks, a little suspicious now.

“Nothing,” you manage between giggles, waving him off. “You’re just… amazing, Quinn.”

He shakes his head, his expression softening. “Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”

You reach for the phone to stop recording, already knowing this TikTok is going to break the internet.

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