#I think there is something to be said about how the rich kid’s childhood gets whumped the most while the kid who grew up poor gets aged up

[still-a-dreamer-even-now]

she wants to understand, she tried to understand, she begs them to tell her what happened to them in the country and they all look at each other having a silent conversation she will never understand and edmund makes a joke that doesn’t quite ring true about their time and she wonders once again when her younger son became a diplomat and her children became a parliament

“the war changed them” she says to anyone that knew them before “i hardly know them myself anymore”

and she says it with false laughter and haunted eyes and a heavy sense that she has missed something crucial and the people that knew them don’t quite get it, “they’re growing up” they say “war changed everyone” but helen pevensie has never seen children who eyes tell her they’ve truly, really lived entire lifetimes at 15

i helen is so terrified her kids grew up without her while still being so young like they lost their childhood it was robbed from them but in reality their childhood was rich and wonderful and lovely and lively and yes even magical and they grew up at a normal rate and then were forced to live through that growing up again in a world less beautiful and she’s afraid they missed their childhood but really truly it was she who missed it

because every time they’ve started trying to explain it to sit her down and tell her, every time she frustratedly throws down a rag while washing the dishes and begs peter to act his age in a way most kids will never hear it said (be a kid!! for goodness sake be a kid, peter!!) and he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again and shakes his head with such a noble tilt and tells her not to worry and that he’s fine and that’s he’s nearly old enough to worry about adult matters now anyhow

because how do you explain to your mother that you’re not really a child (i’ve grown so much in your absence mother) without sounding like you didn’t need her, without sounding like you’re telling a story or a joke instead of the truth (i wish i could show you our palace, our friends) and how do you tell your mother you learned swordsmanship from a mouse, or learned diplomacy from a centaur, that the trees taught you to waltz, you like your tea that way because of a dear old faun, won’t she think you’re playing? joking, teasing her relentlessly? isn’t it easier for her to think you’ve grown than for her to be so concerned that you’re still so childish? and wouldn’t it be wonderful if she would just believe you? but you know she won’t, so you sit silently at the table and hum a lullaby to yourself in a language you wish you could teach her and wonder if a lifetime apart is too long to get to know someone again

you have invited strangers into your home, helen pevensie, mother of four.

without the blurred sight of joy and relief, it has become impossible to ignore. all the love inside you cannot keep you from seeing the truth. your children are strangers to you. the country has seen them grow taller, your youngest daughter’s hair much longer than you would have it all years past. their hands have more strength in them, their voices ring with an odd lilt and their eyes—it has become hard to look at them straight on, hasn’t it? your children have changed, helen, and as much as you knew they would grow a little in the time away from you, your children have become strangers.

your youngest sings songs you do not know in a language that makes your chest twist in odd ways. you watch her dance in floating steps, bare feet barely touching the dewy grass. when you try and make her wear her sister’s old shoes—growing out of her own faster than you think she ought to—, she looks at you as though you are the child instead of her. her fingers brush leaves with tenderness, and you swear your daughter’s gentle hum makes the drooping plant stand taller than before. you follow her eager leaps to her siblings, her enthusiasm the only thing you still recognise from before the country. yet, she laughs strangely, no longer the giggling girl she used to be but free in a way you have never seen. her smile can drop so fast now, her now-old eyes can turn distant and glassy, and her tears, now rarer, are always silent. it scares you to wonder what robbed her of the heaving sobs a child ought to make use of in the face of upset.

your other daughter—older than your youngest yet still at an age that she cannot be anything but a child—smiles with all the knowledge in the world sitting in the corner of her mouth. her voice is even, without all traces of the desperate importance her peers carry still, that she used to fill her siblings’ ears with at all hours of the day. she folds her hands in her lap with patience and soothes the ache of war in your mind before you even realise she has started speaking. you watch her curl her hair with careful, steady fingers and a straight back, her words a melody as she tells your eldest which move to make without so much a glance at the board off to her right. she reads still, and what a relief you find this sliver of normalcy, even if she’s started taking notes in a shorthand you couldn’t even think to decipher. even if you feel her slipping away, now more like one of the young, confident women in town than a child desperately wishing for a mother’s approval.

your younger son reads plenty as well these days, and it fills you with pride. he is quiet now, sitting still when you find him bent over a book in the armchair of his father. he looks at you with eyes too knowing for a petulant child on the cusp of puberty, and no longer beats his fists against the furniture when one of his siblings dares approach him. he has settled, you realise one evening when you walk into the living room and find him writing in a looping script you don’t recognise, so different from the scratched signature he carved into the doors of your pantry barely a year ago. he speaks sense to your youngest and eldest, respects their contributions without jest. you watch your two middle children pass a book back and forth, each a pen in hand and sheets of paper bridging the gap between them, his face opening up with a smile rather than a scowl. it freezes you mid-step to find such simple joy in him. remember when you sent them away, helen, and how long it had been since he allowed you to see a smile then?

your eldest doesn’t sleep anymore. none of your children care much for bedtimes these days, but at least sleep still finds them. it’s not restful, you know it from the startled yelps that fill the house each night, but they sleep. your eldest makes sure of it. you have not slept through a night since the war began, so it’s easy to discover the way he wanders the halls like a ghost, silent and persistent in a duty he carries with pride. each door is opened, your children soothed before you can even think to make your own way to their beds. his voice sounds deeper than it used to, deeper still than you think possible for a child his age and size. then again, you are never sure if the notches on his door frame are an accurate way to measure whatever it is that makes you feel like your eldest has grown beyond your reach. you watch him open doors, soothe your children, spend his nights in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea with a weariness not even the war should bring to him, not after all the effort you put into keeping him safe.

your children mostly talk to each other now, in a whispered privacy you cannot hope to be a part of. their arms no longer fit around your waist. your daughters are wilder—even your older one, as she carries herself like royalty, has grown teeth too sharp for polite society— and they no longer lean into your hands. your sons are broad-shouldered even before their shirts start being too small again, filling up space you never thought was up for taking. your eldest doesn’t sleep, your middle children take notes when politicians speak on the wireless and shake their heads as though they know better, and your youngest sings for hours in your garden.

who are your children now, helen pevensie, and who pried their childhood out of your shaking hands?

[kittykatninja321]

The funniest thing about the fanon whump fics where Tim is getting locked alone in his house with no food by his parents or something is that a lot of the times they have Jason, a character who actually did experience neglect and starvation as a child be like “wow Timmy your childhood is so sad :(“ absvwjsbsa

[mywritersmind]

CAT PARENTS - LN

pt.2

summary : A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.

warning : Just Lando, Olivia, and Juna being adorable (again) !

word count : 1459

⋆ ˚‧｡⋆

I’m in Landos clothes in the bathroom thirty minutes later. I had the best shower of my life, wiping away my club stink and snuggling into baggy sweats and a McLaren shirt.

I hype myself up in the mirror, there’s very few occasions where i’ve stayed over at a man’s house. All of those have been after sex. I am not going to have sex with Lando. It’s a weird learning curve but I was the one who wanted me to stay more.

He lets out a laugh when I walk out, slapping his hand back over his mouth he says, “I didn’t mean to laugh!”

I smile and spin around, “That’s fine. I mean… I do look sort of ridiculous.” his clothes do not fit me by any means…

He shakes his head, playing with Juna who is chasing a feather attached to a stick, “No, you look good.” His voice is a bit raspy, sounds tired.

This should not have an effect on me but the butterfly’s are definitely there.

“So Olivia.” he uses my real name, “If you don’t like F1, what sports do you like?”

I smile and sit next to him, “Soccer mostly.”

He side eyes me, “Football?”

I eye him right back, “Soccer.”

He smiles, happy with our disagreement, “Why not Formula?”

I sigh and shrug, “Sort of rough on an Americans sleep schedule. My dad loves it actually! But when I got to college I never got back into it.”

“That’s good.”

“What, that I never got back into it?” I look at him playing with Juna, a rouge curl falling into his face.

“No. You said your dad loves it. That’ll mean he likes me.” There go those damn butterfly’s, “Unless he doesn’t like McLaren.”

I smile to myself, “He’s a ferrari fan.”

He sighs, “Ah… might have to win his trust then.” I should not be thinking about how much my dad would like Lando.

I lean back against my arms, “And what makes you so sure you’re going to meet him?

He smiles softly back at me, “We have a child together now.” He grabs Juna and brings her close to his face. Something about him and this cat is just melting my heart.

“Right.” I smile and pet under her chin, “Lovely. We’re stuck together forever, I guess.”

His blue eyes meet mine, “I guess.”

____

“Oh my-” I take a bite of my burger that Lando and I ordered. The burger was the first thing ordered, followed by fries, two milkshakes, chicken tenders, more fries, chips, and onion rings.

Lando laughs at my groaning as he nibbles on his chicken, “Like it?”

“It even tastes rich.” I shake my head, “Wanna try?” I don’t know why I say it. I hate sharing my food, I won’t even share my water with my best friend.

He shakes his head, “Nah i’m sort of… picky.”

“Suit yourself.” I shrug and keep eating.

“Back to our game?” He asks, biting into a fry. I nod as he starts, “Favorite color?”

“Blue, Navy.” Although his eyes could be changing my mind on the navy part. “Favorite holiday?”

“Christmas. It’s always during winter break, obviously. So I get all the time I want with my family.”

“That’s really sweet.” I sip my milkshake, “Is it hard, being away all the time? Even if you do love it.”

“Not your turn yet.” He raises a brow, “What’s your favorite memory from your childhood?”

“Hm… I wasn’t exactly a child, But still. I was seventeen and had just got out of a horrible relationship.” he frowns at this, “Don’t worry I poured coffee on him- anyway my friends and I drove to the beach, absolutely blasting Taylor Swift, and we just swam in our clothes.” I shrug, “It was like midnight.”

He smiles as I tell the story, “It’s so cool you grew up by the beach.” thank you cali.

“Answer my question now, please.”

He sighs, “It’s hard. My sister has a kid so I wish I was with her a lot… but honestly my parents can make it to a lot of races and it’s not like I have a girlfriend to worry about.” I laugh at this.

I try to sound casual, “I’m assuming you have in the past?”

“Yes…” he says suspiciously, “but it’s tough. What about you, got anyone special?”

“Definitely not. Broke up with my college boyfriend a while ago…” Why am I telling him this?

He whistles, “How old are you?”

“Twenty three.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I’m twenty four.”

“That is good.” I laugh and he laughs with me, “You’re young.” I say.

He shakes his head, “So are you. I forget sometimes.”

“That you’re young?”

He shrugs and wipes his hands on a napkin, “Being a driver doesn’t exactly scream ‘first job!’”

“I never really thought about that. My first job was a wedding calligrapher though.” He laughs, “I’m serious!”

“I believe you! It’s just… random.”

“You’re random.” I roll my eyes as if that was any insult.

I hear scraping and see Juna join us on the bed the next second, I laugh at the tiny kitten climbing up the bed. She walks right on top of Lando, up his arm and on his neck.

“She likes me!” He whisper yells. I lay my head on the pillow, getting tired after my day.

“She has good reason to.” I say as I yawn, closing my eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, Livvy.”

“I’m not…”

____

LANDO NORRIS

She fell asleep. I look at the clock, 2:23am. I set Juna down but she keeps trying to get my attention as I clean up our food.

I’ve enjoyed this far too much. I like her company.

This girl i’ve just met. I barely know her!

Yet I feel like I've known her for years.

I shouldn’t get attached. I don’t easily. But with Olivia it feels like I've known her since I was in school.

That could be the late hours talking though. But still, we’ve been talking for hours. With this bloody cat who I've fallen completely in love with.

“Norris.” I hear her whisper.

“Yes, love?” I let it slip by accident.

“Juna peed on the couch.” she pats the bed, “Come on.”

I thank god because my back would be fucked if I slept on the floor and my trainer would not be happy. I switch the lights off and climb in next to her, Juna in between us.

“Night, love.” She whispers before promptly falling asleep.

____

OLIVIA WREN

I wake up to an arm around me and a man standing above me. I scream.

“Fuck!” Lando pulls his arm away immediately, opening his eyes quickly and looking at the man in screaming at, “Max!” he groans, “You didn’t have to scare her!”

“Sorry.” He crosses his arms, “I’m Max.”

“Hi?” I try to slow my heart rate, “God! You scared me!” I look back up at him, Lando mentioned the childhood friend but I didn’t think I’d meet him so soon.

“Sorry again. Lando scared me first! Bloke can’t figure out how to use his phone!” Max throws his phone at Lando who dodges it. I’m still trying to recall why I'm here and what is happening.

Juna reminds me when she trots over and plants herself on my lap. “I thought you’d been killed or something!” Max yells at Lando whose face is still in the pillow.

I’m suddenly very self conscious about being in this bed. Max seems to notice and shakes his head, “Well now that I know you’re alive… Plane takes off in an hour.”

____

He’s packed in fifteen minutes. Why couldn’t he be a slower packer?

We’re quiet up until the elevator exit, “Juna is still half mine.” He says suddenly, the blue skies coming into view as we walk outside.

“Okay?”

“So don’t forget me, or anything.” He says, looking away from me.

The corner of my mouth lifts, “No chance.” Putting his bags down, he slides my phone out of my pocket and into his hand.

“My number.” He says before handing me my phone back, “Use it all you want.”

“Oh I should be so greatful.” I say it sarcastically but honestly, I am.

He nods, a small smile still gracing his face, “Be safe, alright? Don’t go home with any more strangers.”

My grip on Juna’s carrier tightens, “We’ll see.”

He says goodbye to Juna, sticking his finger through the wire and petting her. He stands up straight, taking his things as the valet brings his car.

“Good luck.” I say quickly, he looks almost surprised. “In your race. Maybe I’ll watch.”

His surprise turns into kindness, leaning down a bit, he places his lips softly on my cheek, “Don’t scream my name too loud, love.”

I blush as he steps back, I wave. He gets into his car and looks back through the slight tint, smiling.

note : should i do a pt.3??

[scremogirl]

✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★ ???

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞

Yandere Student Council Pres x Nonchalant reader

I’m not sure if I should retitle this to Yandere! Childhood friend x reader or not. There’s not a lot of the fact he’s the SCP shown in the story. I felt like I went a little off track. I got so consumed in writing😭. I already have a post like that on my page so I didn’t want to make it confusing. I don’t know if I should’ve said unemotional reader either. Idk let me know what you think. Have fun reading!

He was at the top of the food chain. Good grades, teachers liked him, students feared him, rich, good looking, and most importantly; the student council president. With that being said, why wouldn’t he leave you alone?

Takenya was a stuck up priss in your opinion. Always lecturing you about things you could do in order of improvement. You weren’t popular but you weren’t one of those weird Naruto kids that sat in the back of the class and ate crayons either. You just existed. Someone so average at everything somehow attracted the most “perfect” guy in school. Your grades were fine; a straight A-B student with the occasional C here and there. Your attendance on the other hand… well maybe he’s not so wrong about that, but who actually wants to be at school anyways?

“I don’t understand why you don’t try harder? You could easily surpass most of our class,”

“You need to come to school. This behavior would never pass in the real world. What would your employer think of you just not showing up?”

“Chocolate for lunch…really? If you want to stay healthy you’ll need to-“

Why does he care so much anyways? Sure, you used to be friends in like what, fifth grade? You used to get bullied in school for being different. You just didn’t like the things that kids your age were supposed to like. But… it never bothered you. You weren’t emotionless per se, it’s just, why care what others have to think?

Mellisa Grey. The girliest of all girls. She used to have it out for you when you were younger. Calling you names and bumping your shoulder whenever you walked by. You put up with it until the end of the year; fifth grade graduation. That evening she and her crew thought it’d be funny to pour milk on the shy little nerdy boy in your class. Some spilled on your dress, that you didn’t mind, but the tears of the boy next to you made you. Something inside of you just snapped. You shot up from your seat grabbing a first full of her hair and slammed her head onto the wooden table. Not stopping until you saw the wire of her pink, sparkly braces fly out her mouth. Well, that was what you wanted to do; the teachers came too early for you to inflict any further damage. The most you got was a broken nose and a lawsuit. She transferred schools after that, and you got the whoopin of a lifetime. You didn’t care. You didn’t feel bad at all. If anything you felt elated seeing her in pain and the rage on her parents faces as the cussed child you out. You didn’t cry or yell when your parents picked you up. You weren’t phased by the belt or the palm of your mothers hand striking you. You didn’t feel anything. So why were you so upset on someone else's behalf anyways?

You knew this kid. I mean, how couldn’t you when he would follow you around 24/7.

“H-Hi… my names Takenya” you just blankly stared. His sheepish gaze barely meets yours from behind his big fat glasses.

“…Do I know you?”

“Well…no. But I know you!”

“Good for you I guess.” You continued to go back and forth on the swing, not acknowledging the boy's existence at all. The swing he sat on remained stationary, never once dropping his gaze from you.

“Uhm… I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Hm? What was he talking about? He saw the confusion in your face when you turned around to ask and beat you to the point.

“You probably don’t know me. We’re not in the same class,” Right. So why is he talking to you? Again, before you could ask he cut you off.

“The other day when recess started you helped me pick up all of my stuff after Carter pushed me down; remember? I-I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me” Ohhh, you do remember him now. He was that shy little rich kid that transferred here at the end of fourth grade. He didn’t have many friends, let alone any at all. Everyone had grown up with each other and formed friend groups at this poin. He was a little late to the party so he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t worried about the next episode of Ninjago and didn’t find humor in looking up the words penis and vagina in the dictionary at the school library when the teacher wasn’t looking. His hair long, tied back into a neat ponytail and not buzzed into a Mohawk like half the boys in your grade. He had glasses that almost covered the entirety of his upper face. He always ate his pb&js on whole wheat instead of white and preferred celery sticks over fruit snacks. So, just like you, he got bullied just because he was different.

“Oh yea. I remember you now. You’re welcome by the way,” he grinned. The first time you saw him smile ever since he came to your school.

That marked the day of a long friendship.

That was until you went to middle school. You think puberty had something to do with it. He grew into his face more and sized down those jellyfishing glasses. His scrawny figure gained slightly more bulk and dressed in a more modern fashion. His hair remained the same; a bit shorter than before but still longer than most guys. You’ve always liked his hair. He would let you braid it sometimes when he was too distracted playing on his DS. He didn’t get acne like many of the other kids your grade either, skin smooth and clear. All the girls found him to die for. Your nonchalant behavior rubbed off on him and he became more confident in himself. Not letting his elementary school self be reflected into now. He became a bit too obsessed with his studies for a middle schooler; pushing all his ways on you. He would always follow you around blabbing about not attending gym class. He even started hanging around the same snotty rich kids he would complain to you about. You became annoyed. So you cut him off. Just like that. Stopped talking to him, answering his texts, not sitting with him at lunch or in class. Even after all the rejection at his advances, he came running back to you. Not willing to let you go so easily.

The school bell rings signaling the end of 4th pd and beginning of lunch. You were planning to go off campus today and not come back. Keys in hand you make your way to the student parking lot. However, someone’s blocking the exit. He’s gotten taller, about 6’2-6’3; sleeper build accommodating his height. Glasses thinner and sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Hair as long as ever, tyed back with that same white ribbon you gave him years ago; revealing an undercut. He fixes the collar of his button up and readjusts his tie and vest.

“And exactly…just where do you think your going?”

“To lunch,”

“The cafeteria is that way,” he points with a slender finger, decorated by a diamond ring. It shimers under the lights above reflecting against his matching earrings.

“Off campus,” he raises his eyebrow, folding his arms.

“Knowing you, you won’t come back. You do realize your request for a half day schedule is still pending right? You also recognize that I’m the one who assists the principal in granting them as well?” You don’t answer him, already knowing we're going with this.

“As I said before, your attendance needs improving before I-… we can grant it,” what a pain in the ass this guy is. You try to walk past him but he stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t eat school lunch. I’ll be back after,” he gives you an unamused look. Hand gripping your shoulder a little tighter as you try to take another step.

“You know I can’t let you do that. Not unless you don’t want a new schedule,” he pauses.

“Not unless I come with you,” you look up.

“You’re paying?” His eyes widened slightly, shocked at your willingness. But he can’t be too surprised, he knows you don’t care about anything unless you get what you want.

“Of course I am. You need to spend your money on other priorities; like a new math textbook,” you ignore the subtle jab and walk to his car. No need to ask where as he parks next to you everyday to make sure he knows you’ve actually show up. Definitely not because your the first thing he wants to see in the morning.

“I don’t understand why you come to McDonald’s of all places,” he lets out a sigh, handing his card to the drive through worker. He drives up to the next window waiting for the food.

“It’s not healthy. You seriously should consider my offer in taking you to that new place down the street,”. He looks over when he doesn’t get a response; noticing the music blasting from your headphones as you look at the door. He sighs again before taking the food from the workers hand and grabbing your headphones. You turn your head to look at him but your gaze shifts to the bag in his hand. You reach over and grab a fry out of the bag and he s his eyes. Pulling into the parking lot, he silently watches you eat. This brings him so much nostalgia. He misses eating lunch with you everyday. Ranting while you just sit there and chew. He misses having someone listening to him about something that’s not related to school. After you stopped *attempted* talking to him in the beginning of 7th grade, his heart felt like it got ripped out of his chest.

He’s never felt anything his whole life. His father would tell him that one day he’ll find someone who makes him feel everything, makes life worth it. He’d seen the love shared between his parents everyday. He always wanted that. In the fourth grade all of that came true. He saw you getting off the bus making your way to school. He saw the way you helped up Michael Lemitzki, a dorky little boy, after Conner pushed him down. Shaggy hair, braces lining his teeth, comic books all on the floor. How pathetic. You weren’t scared of Conner at all. He was bigger than you and more popular than you, but you didn’t care. You kept a straight face as he threatened you and held your composure. No emotion showing whatsoever.

He thought you were beautiful. It was love at first sight. He was too busy staring at you to hear his father calling out to him. He followed his son's gaze to you. He looked back down at the small boy and gave a knowing smile. Takenya just stared at the other boy hugging you with tears down his face. Why is he touching you like that? Push him away already! That day he purposely made himself a target to the bullying of Melissa and Conner. Hoping that one day, you’ll save him the same way you did Jacob. He got bigger glasses, grew his hair out, and started dressing like the typical “nerd”. He would leave candies in your cubby, prized limited edition Pokémon cards in your backpack, brand new color pencils and markers showed up around you. He started to lose hope though. Why haven’t you noticed him yet!? Sure he’s never actually talked to you.. but still! Could you not see his effort?! Did you not care? He sat alone at recess that fateful day. He was randomly pushed down, papers and crayons flying out his small hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Connors teasing today. To caught up on the fact that the love of his life may never see him they way he’s dreamed of. Oh the dramatic mind of a fifth grader. He clutched the safety scissors that flew out of his pencil pouch watching the dick of an elementary schooler turn around. He was about to get up but stopped as he saw someone bend down beside him. It was you! You helped gather all his things and placed them into his arms. His heart pounded in his chest and the blush on his face spread like wildfire. Before he could say anything you walked away. Taking your place on the swing set. He hurriedly put all his things away before trying to build up the courage to come talk to you. He took to long, however, as the teacher soon yelled for everyone to make their way into the line back to their respective class.

As he reminisces on the past, an alarm rings. Telling him that it’s time to make his way back to school. You’ve already finished all your food and somehow managed to take your headphones back.

“What?” You say snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize he was staring.

“Nothing,”

You make your way back to the school and go your separate ways. He walks you to class ensuring that you get there. Out the corner of his eye he sees someone wave to you. Lemitzki. His hairs more well kept, ditched the glasses for contacts showing of his green eyes. He’s taller and has more muscles now. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the jagged line that makes it’s way across his right cheek, interfering with his dimple as he smiles. It’s been awhile, the scar healed well. The once clutzy boy looks at the door and freezes, hand dropping and going pale. There’s a silent stare off between the two before the late bell rings. Takenya makes his way to class, a slight smile on his face at a sudden memory.

Watching him walk away, a fist tightens. Little does he know someone was planning on getting their revenge.

Hi loves! I hope you guys enjoyed. Take is an OC of mine I’ve had for a while just never had a name for him until now. Like his concept was in my head foreverrrr. He might be a reoccurring character. I really like him. But I did put one shot so I’m not sure. Lemme know what y’all want. Check out this post below for a little more context. Hope you enjoyed.

-Love, Sos❤️

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 1] Ikebana

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Morning Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob, Spitting, Praise Kink, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Shower Sex, Death (Not Major), Slight Angst, Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru doesn’t remember much about his childhood– Not the parts that didn’t involve you anyway. He remembers playing with you when you were kids, but apart from that, he can only remember pivotal moments. Important moments that to no surprise, always managed to involve you.

When Satoru was five, he walked into his kitchen with a scraped knee, searching for help from someone that worked around the house. That’s when he saw a girl around his age, and he got excited. So excited that he forgot about his scraped knee. The girl hadn’t noticed him though, as she tried to get her mother’s attention. 

“Hi! I’m Satoru” were his first words to her. That’s when you turned to see him, and you like to think that a beautiful friendship blossomed.

Satoru never really understood why you lived there, or why his parents never acknowledged you when you two played together. They’d address Suguru, one of his closest friends, or literally anyone else that would come over from school. Just not you, even though you’d play together every afternoon.

When Satoru was seven, he understood that your mother was a servant and lived in the servants’ quarters along with the other people that worked in the house. Satoru didn’t quite understand how important his family was or how rich they were at that time. 

When Satoru was eight, he was turning into a spoiled brat. He was already spoiled before but he wasn’t quite a brat. He’d throw tantrums more often, and not only was he rude to his friends, but especially to you. That attitude went on for months until you said,

“I don’t want to play with you anymore.” which made Satoru realize that maybe he wasn’t being the best person to his friends. That same afternoon you received your first flower. A lily that he picked out from his mother’s garden, something that if she knew, she’d be livid. That was the first time Satoru ever apologized to anyone, and the first time he gave a girl a flower.

When Satoru was ten, he remembers how his parents started to argue about topics he didn’t quite understand. He just remembered being uncomfortable as he heard their aggravating yelling, and feeling embarrassed because you’d be there playing with him. As an adult, Satoru wonders why they decided to argue so close to his room when they lived in a literal mansion. He guesses it’s not their fault that their bedroom was right by Satoru’s. But in the end, Satoru is grateful because you decided to help Satoru out by dragging him out of the room.

He remembers being annoyed at first, claiming he didn’t want to play outside. The playroom was close to his parents’ bedroom as well. There was nowhere he seemed where he could escape, although the house had a multitude of rooms. You dragged him to your mother’s room and showed him the few toys you had. You still had fun, and Satoru was able to forget about his parents’ problems.

When Satoru was eleven, he begged his father to allow you to go to school with him. The problem was that he went to a private school, and the tuition was something your mother could definitely not afford. But he begged and begged until his father finally pulled some strings and got you into the school, and the Gojo family paid for your school’s tuition.

When Satoru was twelve, his father’s work was in vain. Satoru’s group of friends didn’t really like him hanging out with someone else so much while at school, especially a girl who was just the daughter of a servant. Satoru got defensive about it at first, until he wasn’t. He stopped hanging out with you at school, ignoring you at lunch or whenever you found yourselves in the classroom together. You didn’t understand Satoru’s cold behavior until you heard one of his friends talk about you to him.

“Why do you even keep looking at her? She’s probably all dirty.” And those words broke your heart. You knew what he meant. You also remembered Satoru not saying anything. 

You didn’t try to talk to him back at his home, and he really didn’t mind. From that moment on, your friendship deteriorated since Satoru wouldn’t try to talk to you, locking himself in his bedroom.

When Satoru was thirteen, he thought he got his first crush. It was one of your friends from school, he recalls her name being Shoko. He found her cute, and thought about asking for your help to ask her out, but you two didn’t talk anymore. You didn’t acknowledge each other, even though you went home together. 

When Satoru was fifteen, he no longer had a crush on Shoko. He doesn’t know if he ever actually liked her or if he just liked the fact that she was so close to you. Satoru found himself missing the friendship you had, wondering how he could get it back. It had been three years since it came to an end. He didn’t know how to get that friendship back. During the summer, he did the same thing that he did when he was eight years old: picked lilies from his mother’s garden and gave them to you. That was the second time that you got flowers.

“Hey!” Satoru yelled when he spotted you walking around the backyard. It confused you because Satoru doesn’t talk to you anymore.  What confused you even more was Satoru holding two flowers from his mother’s garden. He walked up to you, and you stared, trying to figure out what he’s planning.

“Mr. Gojo… What do you need?” You asked him. He extended his arm, attempting to hand you the flowers. But you didn’t take them.

“I want to apologize. I haven’t been… the best person to you. You were my best friend for seven years and now I don’t even know your interests. All because I listened to some stupid boys.” He said, and you pouted. You took the flowers from him before you wrapped your arms around him. “I miss you as my friend.”

“I miss you too, Satoru.”

A friendship formed again, but it wasn’t quite like the one you had ten years ago.

When Satoru was sixteen– Sixteen was a weird year for Satoru. He had gotten his friendship with you back, yet it was awkward. Not because you missed being friends with each other for three years, but more because Satoru had some weird feelings toward you. He thought it was just tension because of his past behavior, but he realized how upset he got when Suguru confessed that he had a crush on you.

“Why do you even like her?” Satoru immediately asked, his blood boiling. The moment those words left his lips, Satoru knew that the reason everything was so weird was because he liked you. When he was sixteen, Satoru finally realized he liked you.

When Satoru was seventeen, he fell in love. He fell in love with the way you expressed yourself, the way you dressed, your interests. He loved the way your face lit up whenever he asked about what you liked. The way you excitedly spoke and stumbled over words. It’s creepy to even say that he loved the way you smelled. Yet Satoru never bothered to confess, scared to be rejected, also because his best friend still liked you.

When Satoru turned eighteen, he got tipsy on his birthday. Even though he invited you to the party, you didn’t show up. You chose to spend the night with your mother because in the end, you wouldn’t fit in with Satoru and his friends. 

He wasn’t having the fun he planned on having, he was just thinking about you. He knew you were around, but he didn’t want to drag you out of your room to spend time with people you don’t like that much. He debated on not celebrating at all, but then he realized how suspicious it’d end up being. He didn’t want you to realize how he liked you. 

His plan was to move on past it all, although it was hard because he was literally so in love with you. The thought of you with anyone else made him sick. He just didn’t know how to tell you, fearful of rejection. He tried to have fun, drinking along with his friends. 

“Satoru, where are you going?!” Suguru yelled as Satoru began to walk away from everyone else, heading to the servants’ quarter. Suguru thought about following him, but he stayed behind when he was approached by some of his friends. Satoru just had a single thought in mind. You.

He remembered your mother’s room clearly, it was the third door to the left. He was about to knock, but he paused. Then he heard your voice, and he wondered if he was hallucinating until he turned and saw you.

“That’s not my room anymore. My mom asked your mother if I could have a separate room… Around five years ago.” You told him as he slowly walked towards you. You stood confused because he didn’t bother to speak. Until his hands cupped your face and he looked down at you. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are.” He began, and you looked up at him– At first utterly confused. But it hit you. Pretty quickly you realized why Satoru was so distant. You then thought that you were thinking way too highly about yourself, especially when the breath of alcohol passed your nose. 

“Satoru… You’re drunk. You should go to bed. I can tell everyone else to go home.” You offered while Satoru smiled.

“Drunk? No way. Maybe just a little tipsy.” He dragged out his words and you’d be laughing if his hands weren’t on your face. He forced you to look at him, and his face got closer and closer to yours. “I just want to kiss you right now.”

“You’re really confident.” You responded. Satoru has never exerted this type of confidence before. 

“May I kiss you?” He questioned, and your face got warm at his question. Your gaze lingered on his glossy pink lips, and you wanted to accept. But you knew better because Satoru isn’t in his right state of mind. Maybe he wasn’t drunk but he was definitely leaning more toward being drunk than sober. 

“You’re not thinking straight.” You said. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Satoru. I can put you to bed.”

“I’m not a child– I know what I’m doing.” He answered. He licked his lips, while he continued to look down at your lips. “Please.”

“Why would you even want to do that?” You asked, blinking slowly as you watched Satoru. Satoru bit down on his lip as he tried to come up with an answer. Maybe he’s tipsy, but he isn’t dumb enough to humiliate himself like– He’s no better than that.

“Because I love you. I love you so much.” And with that, Satoru kissed you. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was for sure the most memorable one of his life. He knew he’d regret it the next day, but he couldn’t live his life without at least having kissed your sugary soft lips once in his lifetime. Even if everything ended up awkward between the two of you.

When Satoru turned eighteen, he ruined his friendship with you. But in the end, it all worked out. He ruined his friendship because you ended up as his girlfriend instead, which is more than he could’ve asked. At eighteen, Satoru got his greatest gift.

And now, Satoru is twenty-one, thinking about proposing to his girlfriend. You’re no longer eighteen, so of course a lot of things have changed. Instead of staying in the Gojo house, you’re now hours away at college, while Satoru finishes a useless degree at the best university in the world. 

He’s so close to finishing his degree, but time seems endless when he’s in a different country from you. He can’t wait till he gets to wake up each morning next to you, it feels like that day isn’t soon enough.

“How’s school, baby? Nothing too stressful I hope.” Satoru says, looking at the small device in front of him that displays your face. It really does you no justice. He’d give just about anything to be with you right now, but he’ll be flying you out soon so you’ll spend some quality time together. The more time you spend apart, the more romantic your reunion ends up being.

“Annoying. Boring. Stressful.” You list, and he chuckles. “I can’t wait to see you, baby. It’s what motivates me nowadays.”

“Aw, I’m flattered. It’s the same with me though. I’m just thinking about you all day and night. I can’t wait to see your pretty little face.” He tells you.

“You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?” You respond, and he ends up rolling his eyes before he laughs. Every time you call each other, you talk on the phone for hours, and Satoru never gets bored of it. Usually, the call ends with one of you falling asleep, and this time it ended up with you falling asleep.

“I love you.” Satoru says, his eyes droopy as he hangs up the call. He smiles, thinking about spending the rest of his life with you. He can’t wait to propose, just thinking about giving you the ring he bought for you. 

He succumbs to slumber, not hearing as the phone rings. He doesn’t return the call the next day either, assuming that his parents don’t have anything important to say. They never do.

Satoru waits eagerly at the airport, his eyes looking around to find his love with her luggage. You texted him when you were on the plane, and texted him once you landed, so it’s now a matter of time for him to find you. He anxiously glances at his phone every thirty seconds, waiting for you to send him a text. He’s hoping that you’re okay and you haven’t gotten lost.

“Satoru!” You yell, and Satoru’s eyes brighten up as a smile overcomes his face. He waits for you with open arms, and you run to wrap your arms around him. Two months since your last encounter, your lips meet his in a sweet kiss. He doesn’t want to pull away, but he knows he has to before he ends up doing something that he shouldn’t be doing in an airport. 

“My love, how was your flight?” He asks, taking the luggage from your hands so you can walk without having to carry anything heavy. You begin to walk toward the elevator.

“It was good. There was a baby crying the whole way here though, I was a bit annoyed not gonna lie.” You share, and Satoru almost laughs, but he feels as if it’d end up insensitive. He offered to get his parents’ jet, but you refused. You don’t want to shove the relationship in their faces, knowing that they don’t like you– His father does, however, Mrs. Gojo doesn’t.

“You have all day to rest. But tomorrow we have our schedule all packed.” Satoru says, causing you to groan. You get into the elevator and Satoru clicks on the third floor to go to the floor he parked at.

“I’ve barely landed and you’re already making me think about work–”

“It’s not work if it’s fun… Unless you don’t like getting massages.” He cuts you off, and you quickly change your mind. You were wrong. “You know I’m not going to make you work while you’re with me. Ever.”

“Then why am I getting a degree?” You question as the two of you exit the elevator and begin to walk to Satoru’s car. 

“To kill time before you can officially become Mrs. Gojo.” He answers, and you fight back a smile as you think about the possibility of marrying Gojo. When you were thirteen, you liked him, but you thought that getting with him was impossible. Now he gets on your nerves because he can’t stop saying how much he loves you.

“Why do you think I’d change my last name?” You ask as he opens the passenger door for you. You get in and he leans down to peck your lips before he says,

“Why would you pass up on the opportunity of becoming Mrs. Gojo?” He replies, and before you can say anything, he closes the door. You weren’t going to say anything anyway, you don’t want to offend his mom by saying that you’re afraid that by getting the last name, you’ll end up like her. Satoru knows that his mother isn’t the easiest of the bunch and he often complains about her, but you doubt that he’ll like hearing you complaining about her.

You check your phone while Satoru puts your luggage in the trunk. You don’t have many messages except the ones from your mother asking you how the flight was. You begin to text her back while Satoru gets in the driver’s side and turns on the car.

“Are you hungry?” Satoru asks and you shake your head. “Are you sure? I don’t have anything that you can snack on at home.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” You answer. You know that Satoru frantically went shopping the previous day, and if he didn’t have anything, he’d order anything for you. He squeezes your thigh as he begins to drive.

“I just want to make sure you eat something before getting home. It’s an hour-long drive.” He informs you, and you still shake your head before you kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for caring about me.” You tell him. He grins from ear to ear. “Right now, all I want to do is take a nap.”

“You can nap while we drive back to my apartment. Then you can sleep for the whole afternoon.” He says, his hand caressing your thigh.

“I want to spend some time with you though.”

“We have all week to do that. Sleep a little bit.” He responds. You don’t have to hear him twice before your eyes shut and allow yourself to relax for the rest of the ride.

When you wake up, you’re in Satoru’s soft bed, and the sun isn’t out anymore. You slept the whole afternoon. You were barely awake while walking from the car to the elevator, and from the elevator to his apartment. You fell asleep on Satoru’s couch, and he carried you to his bedroom.

You see light coming from the bottom of the door, and you stand up and walk towards the door. The aroma of the food he’s cooking fills up the area, and it brings you to smile, knowing that he’s cooking something up. He usually tells you about the great meals that he’s learned how to cook, and you never believe him. Every time you’re reunited, he’s usually back at his house so he can’t cook for you, but he finally has the opportunity to show off his skills, so he’ll do so.

You walk to the kitchen to find him cutting up some tomatoes for dinner. You walk over to him, trying to be as quiet as possible since he hasn’t noticed you yet. You love scaring Satoru, and you’ll take every chance you can take to do it. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind. He jumps up a little, startled. You kiss his shoulder before you say, “I was dreaming about you…”

“Really? Was I shirtless? I hope so.” He says, causing you to laugh. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Good. I’m starving.” You tell him. “Where’s everything? I want to start setting the table.”

“You can sit down and watch some TV. You’re not lifting a finger this whole week.” Satoru tells you, and you certainly can’t complain. You never have had the chance to sit back and relax, and since your boyfriend wants to give you that opportunity, you’ll take it. “I still haven’t made reservations for tomorrow’s dinner, do you want anything specific?”

“I really haven’t thought about anything. You can pick.” You answer. You surf through channels, trying to find something that you’re entertained by, and when you finally find the right one, Satoru announces,

“Everything is set. You can come now.”

You stand up and walk over to the table and take a seat. You look at the food and your stomach growls at the sight, causing Satoru to chuckle. He serves your food while you comment on how delicious everything looks.

“I have so much for us planned.” Satoru shares as he passes you your plate. You begin to eat without waiting for him, simply too hungry to wait for him. He laughs, seeing how eager you are to eat. “I’m not sure if we’re going to do it all.”

“Why not?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Do you really think we’re getting out of the house much when you’re not so tired?” Satoru asks, and you feel your face warm up. You sheepishly smile at him, then you focus on your food to try, trying to hide your embarrassment. He notices and tries to change the topic, “I’ll be visiting home soon too.”

“Really? I can’t wait. One week isn’t enough.” You say. “You should come by more often.”

“Staying home isn’t that fun, baby. First day is fine but then my mom gets annoying.” He responds. “When I move back I’ll get an apartment for the two of us. Or maybe a house so we can start a family right away.”

“A family? Aren’t we too young?” You question, and he chuckles. If only you knew all the plans he has already made in his head, all of them to be completed within five years. “Not that I’m opposed–”

“If it were up to me we’d get married tomorrow.” He interrupts you. “But of course, we have to give it some time. However, I’m not moving back till a year or so, you might change your mind then.”

“Really?” You respond. You love Satoru more than you could ever imagine loving someone, but you have a couple of other priorities that come before starting a family with him. “I’m not opposed to getting married soon, but I do think we should wait before starting to have kids and such. We’re still so young, even if it’s in a year.”

“Well–”

“Plus, your mother would probably want us to have a lavish wedding, even if she doesn’t like me. Lavish weddings take a long time to plan. We can’t have a child out of wedlock, can we?” You argue, and he ends up sighing defeated.

“You’re right, baby. You win.”

Sunlight peeks in through the gap between Satoru’s curtains, and they hit you directly. You fell asleep without a problem last night, and now when the sun has barely risen, you’re awake. You feel a large arm wrapped around you, and smile as you hear Satoru’s heavy breathing. You take in his fresh, clean scent before you attempt to escape his embrace to begin getting ready for the day. But he doesn’t let go. He pulls you close to him, burying your face into his bare chest.

“Where are you trying to go?” He murmurs, barely comprehensible. “You’re not getting up from here until I’m ready to wake up as well.”

“I can’t just spend all day here in bed. You’re going to take a while to wake up.” You respond, yet he doesn’t let go. You’re not going to fight it, after all, Satoru is much stronger than you. You spend around five minutes, laying in bed, doing nothing before you tell him, “Toru… C’mon.”

“You’re really going to wake me up?” He replies while your fingertips begin to trace down his sculpted body. Your fingers feel featherlike running down his body, and it certainly doesn’t help keep him awake. That’s until your finger hooks on the waistband of his briefs. But you don’t do more than that. “Aren’t you going to continue?”

“Aren’t you sleeping? I don’t want to disturb you.” You say, and he grabs your hand, guiding it inside his briefs. Your hand wraps around his shaft and he begins to move it.

“I’m wide awake, baby.” He responds, and your hand begins to move at its own pace. He takes his hand out, moving it inside your pajama shorts to tease your clothed cunt. Your lips go up to meet his, your tongue pressing against his bottom lip before it enters his mouth. Your hand works ever so slowly on his shaft, and he’s groaning in your mouth. 

You pull away from the kiss and take your hand out, spitting on it before going back to stroke his dick. You’re slowly picking up speed, and Satoru moans with your every move. His mouth lands on yours again, trying to suppress the embarrassing sounds that escape his throat. He also pushes your panties to the side, two fingers running through your folds to gather your slick, while your tongue presses against his. 

Once he gets his fingers wet enough, he pushes them into your cunt. You moan into his mouth while he slowly begins to move his thick fingers in and out of you. This is what you miss most about being with Satoru, the fact that you’re left to play with yourself as if it could compare to what Satoru gives you.

Satoru curves his fingers so they hit just right, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and you’re not focusing as much on stroking his cock. Satoru begins to thrust his hips, doing your job for you. You bite down his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss.

“Hmm– It’s so fucking good, ‘Toru.” You moan, holding your breath while his fingers work their magic. You shut your eyes and try to take it all in. You completely stop moving your hand, but Satoru gets himself off, he’s moaning as he approaches his release. You feel the pressure build up as your orgasm approaches. “I love it, baby– Fuck–”

“Moan my name, baby. It’s so pretty when it rolls off your tongue.” Satoru mutters in your ear, his low raspy voice nearly enough to make you come. You begin to moan his name over and over again as your orgasm looms closer and closer. 

You’re so focused on yourself that you don’t feel his cum that has soiled his briefs. Your hand stays wrapped around his cock while he makes sure to make you come. You get louder by the second until you finally come.

Satoru takes his fingers out and brings them up to your lips before he presses his fingers against them. You open your mouth and take his fingers in, and you begin to roll your tongue around them. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and then shoves them into his mouth. You watch him, taking off your pants before you get on top of him, your knees on either side of him. He takes his fingers out of his mouth while he looks up at you. You begin to rub yourself on his briefs.

“I want more, ‘Toru.” You tell him, while his hands go to your hips. Your lips go down to meet his, pecking him a couple of times before he responds,

“Then takemore, baby. I’m all yours to use.” He responds before you push down his underwear. Your hand strokes his cock a couple of times before you push your panties to the side and you align his dick with your entrance.

You slowly lower yourself on his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. If his fingers are long and thick, his dick is even better. You’ve been waiting for this for so long. You take as much as you can get before you begin to move up and down his cock, making the man groan.

“What a sweet little pussy. I’ve missed you so bad, baby.” He says while you bounce on his cock, your hands on his chest for support. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying not to be too embarrassingly loud. You don’t want the neighbors to get the wrong impression of you, “Have you missed me? The same way I’ve missed you?”

“So bad.” You respond. Satoru’s hands go to your ass, his nails digging into the flesh. He looks up at you, watching your facial expressions as you take it all in. “Been thinking about you nonstop, ‘Toru.”

“That’s what I like to hear from my girl.” He says as he spanks your ass. He begins to move for you, setting a much faster pace than the one you were going at. Your eyes shut as you take it all in. His hand goes to play with your clit, getting you to the edge even faster. His cock alone is enough to make you come, but he loves making you putty in his hands as fast as he can. “I really miss you so bad, baby. I need you to be on my side all the time.”

“Satoru–” You moan, not really paying attention to the words that leave his lips anymore. He’s just making you feel so good on his cock, hitting every right spot, your thoughts are forming anymore so you’ll agree with anything and everything Satoru says. Even when he says,

“I’ll just give you a baby so you’re forced to be with me. Wouldn’t you like that? Don’t you want to carry my baby?” And all you can manage to yell is, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ which brings a smirk to Satoru’s lips. “I’ll give you my baby. I’ll give you as many as you’d like.”

“Fuck–” You feel yet another orgasm take over, making you completely weak. Your nails dig into the skin of his chest while you’re on the edge of another orgasm. “Satoru, it’s so good.”

“I’m gonna give you my baby, make sure you’re stuck with me.” He continues, while you throw your head back. He feels your cunt tighten around him, and it drives him crazy. His voice is so whiny when he says, “Fuck… Baby… I need you by my side every day.”

“Satoru!” You loudly moan before you reach your orgasm, your legs spasming. Satoru praises you for it,

“Making a mess all over my cock… Oh, you’re such a good girl.” His hand smacks your ass again while you realize how much you love being praised, especially when what you’re doing is already giving you so much pleasure. 

Satoru chases his release, and he gets so close to it with every movement. Your pussy feels so nice and warm around him… He doesn’t want to finish any time soon, he just wants to stay buried inside of it for the next six days. But that doesn’t stop the fact that he’s so close to finishing. “I’m gonna give it all to you, baby. Gonna give you my baby.”

He mutters a couple of words about knocking you up, making sure that you’re by his side for the rest of your lives before you feel the warmth in your cunt. His seed fills you up while your head falls onto his chest. 

You both try to catch your breaths, his hand running up and down your back. He remains buried inside of you, and he won’t take it out unless you ask him to. 

For a moment you just lay down, listening to each other breathe. But your stomach growls, and you feel your face get warmer than it already is, but this time of embarrassment. You speak, “We should eat something for breakfast.”

“Let’s wait for another five minutes.” 

And while you two wait, Satoru’s phone rings. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone, and he rolls his eyes before declining the call.

“Who is it?” You ask him. You heard his phone ring a couple of times the previous night, and each time he declined it. You genuinely wonder who it is, and you doubt that Satoru is seeing another woman so infidelity is not on your mind. He loves you too much.

“Just my mom. You know how annoying she can be.”

Satoru has shown you that he loves you a million different ways, but this, this by far is the best way that he has expressed his love. You get a pedicure and also a manicure. Satoru sits right next to you, also getting a pedicure. You commented how you were thinking of going to the nail salon before coming to visit him, but you didn’t plan it out. So here you are because your boyfriend is attentive.

He’s also having the time of his life as his feet get massaged. You exchange a few words every now and then, but neither of you is really in a talking mood. Until Satoru asks, “Where do you want to go for dinner? I still haven’t thought of any place.”

“I haven’t either.” You answer. “You should be the one to take me somewhere since you know the area.”

“I guess you have a point…” He responds, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s indecisive and he’s scared he’ll pick the wrong option. “But I planned this lovely day…”

“I think you can pick something else… It’s not a life or death decision, you just have to pick a restaurant. You couldn’t even help me pick a nail color, it’s the least you could do.” You tell him, and he chuckles before his eyes glance at your pink nails.

“I told you that you should do blue. You just didn’t want to listen.” He argues, and you laugh in response because he’s right. He did try to help you pick a nail color, he just didn’t pick one that you liked enough. “But fine, I can–” He unintentionally kicks his foot during his foot massage. He apologizes before he continues talking, “I can pick a restaurant.”

“I can’t wait for the massage…” You change the topic, and he hums in agreement. His phone begins to ring again, and he looks at the phone only to decline the call again. You look over at him and furrow your eyebrows before asking, “Your mom again?”

“She’s more annoying than ever. It’s like she knows that you’re here.”

“Maybe it’s something important. You should pick up the phone.” You say and he shakes his head. 

“I just want to have a relaxing day with you, and she’ll ruin that. I’ll call her tonight.”

When you get back to Satoru’s apartment, you’re rushing to the bathroom to take a shower and begin getting ready for dinner. Satoru told you that he barely managed to get reservations at a nearby restaurant and that it’s one of the best restaurants in town. He told you the dress code, and you’re worried that you won’t have anything in your suitcase that fits.

Satoru thinks about joining you, sitting on the edge of his bed. It’ll slow you two down and possibly make you late, but that’s a risk that he’s more than willing to make. He thinks about it for a moment, until he ultimately decides that you can always eat somewhere else. He takes off his clothes as he walks to the bathroom, more than ready to delay today’s plans. He walks into the steamed-up room and sneakily makes it into the shower.

You’re spooked when you feel two hands land on your chest, and he squeezes your breasts. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed before you say, “Next time make sure to announce that you’re joining me or I might just die.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Satoru says before he pecks your lips. He’s stepping forward, making you step back until the water is no longer hitting you and your back is pressed against the wall. “Since you don’t care about where we go for dinner, we might as well change plans last minute.”

“We can make it fast.” You respond before his lips land on yours. His tongue presses against yours while his hand feathers down your body until they reach your pussy. His fingers run through your folds while he pulls away from the kiss and moves down to your neck. He begins to suck on your sweet spot while he slips a finger into your cunt. A moan leaves your lips when he does so, and because he sucks on that sweet spot in your neck that’s enough to drive you wild.

He continues kissing down your body while he inserts another finger into your cunt. Just like earlier in the day, he curves them so they hit just the right spot, and you’re rolling your eyes. He’s on his knees, and his tongue begins to lick your cunt.

He focuses on your clit, and you have you bite your bottom lip so you’re not too loud. His tongue flicks your clit just right, and you’re barely able to stand. 

“You’re doing such a good job.” You praise him, your eyes shutting as one hand grips his hair. Satoru eagerly licks, loving the taste on his tongue. God, he fucking hates the fact that you’re in a completely different timezone than he is. He really wants you by his side at all times. 

He takes his fingers out and his tongue stops flicking your clit. His tongue moves down and it enters your cunt. His thumb begins to play with your clit while he moves his tongue around, and you’re not able to hold back your moans anymore. You feel your orgasm approach, and you grab a handful of his hair, pulling it. He doesn’t even notice, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue.

“Fuck– I’m gonna come…” You tell him. His thumb works on your clit so well, and you praise him for it, which serves as his encouragement. He looks up at you, so adoringly, but you’re not looking at him. You get louder and louder until you finally come on his tongue. He takes his tongue out and kisses your clit before he stands up and kisses your lips.

You’re about to get on your knees and return the favor, but you both hear Satoru’s phone ring. He’s about to ignore it again, letting his mother get tired of calling, but the phone keeps ringing and ringing that it makes you say, “It must be important, ‘Toru. Go pick it up.”

“It’s probably nothing–” He begins but you cut him off.

“She’s very insistent, Toru. She’ll continue calling through dinner. Just check what she wants and I’ll finish my shower.” You peck his lips and he sighs in response before getting out, grabbing a towel, then grabbing his phone. 

“Hi mom.” He greets her, a little too unenthusiastic for her liking. First, she asks where he has been and he responds, “I’ve just been resting after so many exams. I need to relax once in a while, y’know?”

“Your father is sick. Very sick.” His mother says, which makes the man freeze. “I’m not sure if he has much time left… He just suddenly– I don’t know.”

“What– I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.” Satoru responds, hanging up the call before he barges into the bathroom. You’re getting out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap it around yourself and Satoru announces, “We have to go back home tomorrow.”

“Oh? Why?” You ask, following behind him while he goes to his closet to begin packing essentials; he doesn’t need much since he has pretty much all he needs back at his house. “Satoru, is everything okay? Why do we have to go back so soon?”

“My dad is… sick.” Satoru says, slowly realizing the gravity of it all. His dad has never been sick, from what he can remember. He wonders how he’s so sick and how horrible it has to be for his mother to call. He sincerely thinks of the worst, and he hopes that in the end, everything ends up okay with his father. “I’m sorry for ruining your vacation but… If she’s calling me, it’s because it’s bad.”

“No, no. It’s okay, Satoru. He should be your priority.” You respond before going back to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable since your plans have clearly changed, and to pack up your suitcase once again. You didn’t expect your week to be over so soon.

“Dad…” Satoru says, barging into his parents’ room. Satoru paid for the next available flight and you flew out. Now you’re both at his parents’ house since you’re still on vacation and you’re not planning to go back to your apartment near your university yet. You’re with your mother, while Satoru sees his father to figure out just how bad it is. 

He walks over to the bed where his father lies. His father isn’t looking too well, he looks so pale and exhausted. He’s definitely lost some weight too. Satoru walks to his father’s side before he sits on the edge of the bed. “How are you holding up? Mom didn’t tell me about you being sick before–”

“I asked her not to.” His father cuts him off. “I want you to focus on your studies so you can take over as fast as possible.”

“For how long have you been sick?” Satoru asks. This clearly isn’t something new, it was just kept from him. His father is rarely around, even when Satoru is visiting, so he never had the chance to see just how  his health deteriorated.

“That doesn’t matter now, does it?” His father responds. “It doesn’t matter, really. I want to hear about you, Satoru. I know nothing about your life except that you were friends with one of the maids’ daughters.”

“Yeah…” Satoru chuckles, unsure of how to talk about it. His mother knows about the relationship, but he hasn’t talked to his father about it yet. Truth be told, he didn’t tell his mother, she just figured it out. “We’re not really friends anymore… She’s my girlfriend.”

“I know…” His father confesses with a chuckle before he begins to cough. He reaches for his handkerchief and covers his mouth. After a minute, he stops and his father grabs his glass of water and chugs majority of it before he speaks again, “I knew you two would end up together the moment you begged me to pay so she could go to school with you. That’s why I offered to pay for her college.”

“Wait, you’re paying for her college?” Satoru is taken aback by this but his father shakes his head.

“No. She turned me down. Told me I had already done enough.” His father shares, which makes Satoru wonder why you would say no to him, but it’s fine. It’s nothing too bad, he would’ve appreciated you sharing him though, “I like her. I don’t believe in love or soulmates all that much, but then I remember on your eighteenth birthday when I caught you two kissing, and maybe, I believed in love.”

“You don’t believe in love, dad?” Satoru questions, as he realizes this is about the most that he’s spoken to his father. He knew that his father and mother never really loved each other, at least not romantically. He realized it when he was around fifteen, but he didn’t expect to hear it from his father ever.

“I loved my father. My mother. You, ‘Toru. The day you were born was my happiest day, you were my little boy. But I never loved your mother in any type of way.” He confesses, and Satoru just inhales, swearing that he’ll never live like that. He can’t imagine living his life without you. “I appreciate her. She’s a very smart woman that’s kept everything afloat. She gave me you and I could never thank her enough for that. But apart from that, I never grew to love her. She’s a cold woman, and I wasn’t made to love a woman like that.”

Satoru just bites his bottom lip, unsure of what to say at his father’s confession. He expected something similar, but he still doesn’t like the confirmation that his parents were stuck in a loveless marriage. He hates knowing the fact because his father is on the brink of death and he’s probably never experienced love– That he knows of. Satoru often forgets that his father lives a whole different life and that he knows none of the details.

“How did you see me kissing– Oh.” Satoru begins and realizes quickly why his father was in the servants’ quarters. “Please don’t tell me it was–”

“Wasn’t with her mother. Don’t worry. She’s not my type.” His father assures Satoru, which somewhat helps him but still grosses him out. Satoru decides to change the topic, about to confide with at least one parent because he knows that his mother wouldn’t approve.

“I’m thinking about proposing to her soon.” He brings up, and his father grabs his hand and squeezes it. “I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her, so I don’t think I should waste too much time. She wants to get engaged after we both graduate.”

“Do what you think is best. Just hold tight to her and don’t let her go.”

“I love you, dad.” Satoru holds back tears as he hugs his father. His father hugs him back, patting Satoru’s back.

“I love you too, son.” His father responds, and he believes that it’s the first time he hears those words leave his father’s lips. He hates that he’s only heard this so late in life from his father, but he loves it, and he’s sure he’ll miss it.

A month after coming back, you’re back at college and Satoru is at his parents’ house, patiently waiting for the horrible day. He accepted his father wouldn’t make it, so he made sure to savor every moment. He’s barely talking to you, and you understand that he’s upset, so he’s distant. You still try to check up on him as much as you can, even when he barely tries to communicate. 

One April night, right at midnight, your phone rings, waking you up. It’s Satoru, and your heart drops knowing why he’s calling. He calls you sobbing, and you try your best to calm him down. While you do so, you begin to get changed to head to his place, which is hours away but you’ll get there before sunrise.

“I’ll get there in a few hours, baby. Try to get some rest.” You tell him before you hang up the phone. And just as you promised you were in his house within hours, hugging him as he cried. He finally fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep shortly after. 

Around six in the morning, he randomly wakes up, and you wake up as well. He pecks your lips before he says, “I want to marry you.”

“I want to marry you too.” You answer. Things change up and he becomes the big spoon before you both fall asleep again. Satoru is woken up and he sees his mother in the doorway, enraged at the sight.

“Satoru! My office, now!” She yells, and he’s forced to get up and follow behind his mother, who has taken the loss of her husband quite well.

After his father’s funeral, you go back to college and try to check up on Satoru as much as possible. He’s more distant than ever. He isn’t bothering to even text you back anymore, which you understand since he needs time to process everything. 

A month after everything, you receive a call from Satoru out of nowhere. You think that he’s slowly going back to normal, and you exit the bathroom to calmly take the call. When you pick up the phone, you immediately hear his gloomy voice,

“Hey…”

“Hi, baby. How have you been holding up?” You respond. The last time you received a text from him was three days ago. “Are you back–”

“I’m fine– Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He says. 

“Oh no. It’s fine. I’m glad to hear that you’re fine.”

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been feeling sick. I think I might be–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“I haven’t been feeling my best, and I think we should take a short break.” He says, and your heart drops. “I love you, but I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to be in a relationship.”

“Oh– Okay… Okay.” You feel the tears well up before you hang up the phone, not letting him say anything else. You doubt he has much to say anyway. You’re about to take a seat but then you remember the test in the bathroom, and you’re forced to walk back inside to read the results. 

You gasp, a tear escaping your left eye before you grab it and throw it in the trash.

You’ll wait before breaking the news to Satoru.

@yeagerfushiguro @luckimoon @uhremmi @conniesbbymama @mykyoon @prettyiolanthe @mc-reborn @the-loneliest-girl @cloudsinthecosmos @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @yumihisusupremacy @blinkingsuns @oi-loverboy @Gojoismybitch @neireav @lilith412426 @goldfishesarecute @misshale21 @rivaiken @q-the-rockaholic @merlinssassybeard @ikilledsparky2 @abcde12345 @mimizsworld @jiwonchii @lily3847 @luckimoon @ryototsukai0824 @Stupendousexpertcheesecake @mrs-itadori

[strawberryblue-blog]

You don't know me —Pablo Gavi

summary: you get drunk and Gavi has to take you home but you hate each other (mostly you)

warnings: yes. alcohol consumption, bad words, enemies to lovers.

words count: +2k.

#SEXYNOTE: English is not my first language so i apologize for any spelling errors or misunderstandings.

The music blared in your ears as you continued to dance with your friends. The alcohol in your blood was responsible for your happiness and maybe you had had enough but you felt so good. It was like one of those days where you didn't care about anything but enjoying your youth, so you just enjoyed yourself. You had missed coming to dance and have fun with your friends.

The dance floor was a little small for you. You couldn't stop moving as your friends moved around you and laughed happily, dancing and drinking.

"I think it's time to go home" you heard your friend say.

"Nooooooo" you groaned as Fermin grabbed you below the waist, helping you walk.

"We need more of this" you squealed raising your glass in the air.

Lately these days you had been feeling stressed and a little sad. Exams were on the doorstep and you couldn't miss them and you were working in the evenings to support yourself. So you were coming home late in the day with a broken and tired head. So you didn't have much time to go out with friends or go dancing, you just came home to rest and go back to class in a loop.

"You'll thank me tomorrow" he said taking your bag from the table. Your other friends complained and you had to say goodbye to them even though you didn't want to leave.

Fermin, who was in charge of driving you home tonight, helped you walk back to the VIP table of the guys, who were drinking and laughing while watching the others. Buh boring. Fermin was one of your best friends since childhood, since you used to go to the same school and then upon graduation you went to the same university. Fermin was still the same kid you knew from before, only now he was a great football player and very famous but he didn't lose the essence. Although the advantage of having a famous friend was something you began to like at times. You were in one of the best clubs in Barcelona, free drinks and really rich people. You couldn't complain. Although his other friends were really boring, what was the point of being famous if you weren't going to enjoy your life? They were always there, sitting around, drinking and chatting with each other.

"I need help with this one" he announced and you laughed as you almost fell over from not being able to hold your balance.

In front of you, you could see the players watching you hiding their laughter at your ridiculous spectacle and as Fermin tried to hold you up so you wouldn't run out of his hands onto the dance floor again.

"I'll take care of the others, could someone drive her home?" you heard him ask towards his friends and you rolled your eyes.

You didn't want to be a bother to any of them, surely they had something to do with their busy celebrity lives, so you planned to take a cab home. Yes, you were drunk but nothing you couldn't handle on your own. It wasn't the first time.

"I can give her a ride, i'm leaving anyway" someone said and you could see one of his friends get up from his spot.

Pablo Gavi. The man that every woman in Spain is crazy about him. A self-centered jerk that you still couldn't get along with. Not for anything special, he just had some attitudes you didn't like, like thinking he was the center of the world, that all women were at his feet or that he was the best at his job. You really didn't understand how someone like him could be Fermín's best friend. They were such opposites.

"I'll send you her address, take care of her, brother" Fermin warned pointing to his friend.

"I don't want to leave!" you whined as your friend helped you put on your jacket. You hear a snort from the boy who was waiting behind you but you ignored him.

"You need to rest, tomorrow you'll have the worst day of your life, Y/n" he said hugging you goodbye.

You pouted and nodded resignedly.

"See you around, gentlemen" you waved them towards the other players, who waved back at you animatedly as you staggered out behind Gavi.

There were still quite a few people for it being almost closing time, so you walked carefully trying to step firmly following Gavi but the boy's back was getting further and further away from you. He didn't even bother to notice if you were behind him, he just continued on his way out of the place. Idiot.

When you crossed the door of the discotheque, you hugged your body in the cool of the night and your eyes caught sight of the young man waiting for you a little further away. His gaze was cold, disinterested. So you rolled your eyes, walking towards the edge of the street, away from him.

"What are you doing?" you heard him ask in the distance.

"Going home" you mumbled looking to your sides to see if a cab was approaching.

"The car is that way" he sighs again pointing.

Clearly you were a bother to him and you didn't want to owe any favors to any of Fermin's friends, least of all him.

"You're fucking drunk, come on" he said and you let out a wry huff.

"I'm not your concern anymore, you can go" you said again.

"I told Fermin I'd take you" he reneged coming up behind you.

"I won't tell him anything, you go your way, I'll go mine. Problem solved" you reply edgewise. You can hear him sigh angrily.

For a few seconds silence ensues, you say nothing but you can see out of the corner of your eye his figure behind you. Maybe you're being a bit airheaded but you know he's only taking you home for commitment and you'd rather not bother him honestly.

"Whatever you want" you hear him say and nod.

When you think he'll leave, because you see him move, you sigh in relief... but then hands wrap around your legs and you squeal as you're lifted off the ground. You scream as you are left face down, Gavi grabbed your legs and carried you over his shoulder, depositing his hand on your legs while the other on your back holding you up.

"Put me down!" you scream trying to kick but he stops you forcefully. "Pablo, put me down now!" you ask again screaming.

His cold hands squeeze your skin and make you shiver, how dare he? you want to hit him so bad! Your legs are uncovered in front of him and it embarrasses you, probably everyone is seeing your panties thanks to that idiot Pablo Gavi.

"I'm. going. to. kill. you" you scream over and over again, hitting his muscular back.

Damn. His muscles are really hard, you swallow saliva as you feel his firmness under your fingers. Being upside down is no doubt making you unable to think. You get to his car, where you hear him unlock it and open the passenger door, you make a move to get out of it but Gavi lifts you back up and sits you in the seat as if you were a five year old. You cross your arms over your chest and refuse to even look at him.

"Stop acting whimsical" he mutters as his arms cross your body to buckle himself in. You roll your eyes at his words and ignore him.

You are angry. You want to hit him and hit Fermin for letting you go with Gavi.

Damn it, you can't take it.

During the whole trip, you stay in your place as if you were not there, even at times your eyes close but you force yourself to stay awake. Gavi kept spying on you while driving, making sure everything was okay. The atmosphere is tense and silent, no one says a word. You're not sure if Fermin told him where you lived or how he was supposed to know the way to your house because when you realize it you start to recognize your neighborhood.

He parks in front of your building and waits a few seconds until you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your stuff.

"Do i have to carry you all the way home too?" he says teasingly and you open the car door.

Duh duh duh duh. You want to taunt him in that sarcastic tone and curse him out but he won't take any more from you.

As you take a step outside and try to walk, you trip over your own foot and stagger but manage to grab hold of the door before you fall. You hear a low chuckle and your nerves start to make you sweat (or maybe it's the alcohol).

You tell yourself that you can and stand back up to take another step. The worst thing is that you know Gavi is watching you with his smile judging you and makes you want to die right there. Sure, he's a perfect guy who has never come home drunk enough to make a fool of himself.

When you manage to take a few steps away from the car, you start looking in your purse for your building key but start gasping when your hands can't find it. You pick up everything, cards, lipstick, chewing gum, bills but can't find it. Damn, did it all have to happen to you now? You hear Gavi get out of the car and you rush to look for the key starting to curse in whispers.

A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you grab them from the bottom of your purse, my god. If it wasn't for the fact that you were controlling yourself you probably would have screamed with happiness when you pulled them out.

You walk to the big door and open it, hearing footsteps behind you approach. You turn and see the young man with his hands in his pockets, watching you. As your eyes make contact with his, your stomach churns and your throat goes dry. why is he still here?

"T-thank you for bringing me" you thank him stammering.

"I'll come up with you, i have to make sure you get home and don't fall on the way" he says slowly.

Did you look that bad? How could he think you needed a ride home? Yes, you were drunk. But you could, you had managed to walk here by yourself and open the door. Taking the elevator and getting into the house couldn't be impossible, could it? You didn't understand why he cared so much if he hardly ever cared about you. It seemed that he was also intent on bothering you.

"Whatever you want" you repeat like him before and roll your eyes making room to let him pass.

You turn to start walking and your world turns upside down, making you stagger again from the sudden movement. Fuck, you shouldn't have drunk so much. Not when you hadn't had a drink in so long, you'd clearly lost your taste.

His hands help support you, placing them on your hips. His touch is warm and when his fingers press against your skin, your legs tremble and you're not sure it's from the alcohol especially. He is so close to you that you can hear his breaths, his scent invades your nostrils and you swallow saliva trying to assimilate.

You are paralyzed as if your mind had stopped working, when his hands move a little, helping you back on your feet. You are thankful he is behind you because you feel your face burning, your lips tremble as you feel his warmth next to yours and you don't understand what is happening to you. You keep walking towards the elevator still without seeing him, you will die of embarrassment if you do, he is surely enjoying this and can mock you forever.

The elevator doors open and you enter first going to the side, seeing how Gavi enters inside the metal box as well. He is untouched, sporting his perfect hairstyle, his well-ironed, clean, quality clothes, his face looks uncluttered, fresh. For some reason thinking about him makes you feel discomfort in your belly as if something is fluttering inside you. You sigh as the doors come off and you mark your floor, looking to your side seeing the boy standing next to you.

Pablo turns to look at you and when he catches you looking at him he smiles a little, you feel your neck burn with embarrassment but for some reason you can't stop looking at him. It's as if you study his every move, watching him there, standing next to you, hands in his pockets, expressionless.

You turn slightly, leaning against the metal wall your back against it and turn your attention back to him. You suddenly feel like talking but don't know what to say.

"How does it feel to be famous?" you ask curiously.

He lifts his shoulders indifferently. Is he really a cocky idiot like everyone says? They always say that footballers are narcissistic, self-centered and womanizers. Many claim that Gavi is one of them. Curiosity killed the cat and you're honestly dying to know.

"You must have a very big ego" you say somewhat sarcastically.

He sighs as if he's tired of you and that makes you want to keep pestering him.

"Actually, no" he says in response and turns around facing you.

"Of course you'll say that" you click your tongue. "At the end of the day you're Pablo Gavi" you roll your eyes laughing.

His eyes narrow trying to understand your answer and the sound of the sound that came to your floor announces itself, opening the doors. You straighten up taking a step to leave but when you try to cross, his hand stops you. You swallow as you see how his hand is almost close to your belly, brushing against you and the memories of him carrying you in the discotheque come back to your head. Out of the corner of your eye you see him so close to you, you tremble, he has presence on you and you are attentive to any movement he makes.

His hand now encircles your body and he pushes you into a corner against the wall as the elevator closes its doors again after a few seconds of waiting. Your back slams against the metal wall again as his body presses against yours.

"Do you have a fucking problem with me?" he asks harshly and you raise your head to face him.

Your heart is pounding as if you've just finished running a marathon. Your palms sweat, you even feel your pulse tremble and you know the alcohol isn't to blame for that... it's Gavi. Words get stuck in your throat when you try to speak, it's as if your conscience doesn't respond on its own.

Still, you raise your jaw to face him, you will not show him fear, you will not show him weakness. Even though you feel like every atom of you wants to fade away because of his closeness.

He waits for an answer, because he keeps looking at you through his dark eyes, serious and agonizing. Your exposed chest rises and falls at the lack of air between you, you begin to suffocate beneath him and if you don't respond right now, he will have won.

"I don't like you, just that" you admit feigning harshness.

Gavi lets out a wry huff, smiling a little.

"You don't know me" he says edgeily, gritting his teeth. His neck is red and you can see his veins starting to mark through his pale skin. For god's sake.

But he was right, you don't know him at all. Although you could deduce what kind of person he was from so few things.

"And I don't want to" you spit getting closer to her face to show him that you can be tough too and not just another one of his pile.

You're so angry that you're not afraid. In fact it doesn't bother you to be so close to him, you just want to face him, you want to hurt him. If he was a normal person, you probably would have broken his heart with those words but you're not dealing with just any person.

In front of you, Pablo Gavi smiles licking his lips in mockery. He's not just any man, he's one of those who don't break easily and that everyone fears.

But not you.

Kiss him. You hear your thoughts and freeze. Damn, did you drink too much? or not enough? because right now you're losing your mind.

Words become null and void. You can only hear your breaths in front of each other. The atmosphere is tense, suffocating and even toxic. You are both angry, full of adrenaline and about to explode.

Without realizing it, your movements come to life and you grab his neck from behind and pull him close to you in a matter of seconds, without thinking. Your lips collide with his and you kiss wildly.

The grip on your waist presses your bodies together and you gasp at the sensation of his fingers squeezing you.

You melt into the heat of a bold, hard and hot kiss. You waste no time fighting to touch each other and your hands trying to hold onto each other any way you can. You are desperate as if you were two hunters before a prey, killing by hunger. You both touch, kiss, feel each other, enjoying the moment. His hand sinks into your legs and helps you lift it over his body as you keep trying to touch him, your skin feeling his hard muscles.

Sparks shoot from your bodies, you are so desperate that you don't notice that you are still inside the elevator. The minutes pass like shooting stars but you don't stop kissing.

You will definitely have the worst day of your life tomorrow and you really wish all the alcohol you drank today was enough to not remember any of this.

Otherwise, you won't be able to live with it.

[astridthevalkyrie]

me getting into a new character: how neurodivergent am i allowed to go

cw: fluff + a few mild horny thoughts

Rafayel has this little quirk where he's practically incapable of acting like a normal boyfriend. Or a normal person, honestly. Where other people would just take your hand walking down the street, he holds it out with a too-happy, beaming grin so that he can see you take it yourself. Where other people would just sit down at a fancy restaurant, he makes mock offended noises if you try to sit before he can make a big show of pulling your chair out for you.

Where other people would kiss you, he likes biting.

"I'm thinking," he muses, nibbling on your earlobe, "what about a diamond necklace?"

You sigh, burrowing yourself further into him, back against his chest. You're quite comfortable, and you could even fall asleep if it wasn't for his constant yammering. "No."

"Come on," he complains, sinking his teeth into your cheek this time. You let out a brief sound of exasperation, trying to bat at him, but he remains steadfast, tongue poking out to soothe the minor indent he leaves into your skin. "How'm I supposed to prove myself if you won't let me?"

"How would you buying me a diamond necklace prove anything?"

One of his hands slips under your shirt, resting right under your chest. His fingers knead whatever they get in contact with—it's not painful, actually it feels pretty good, not that you'd ever admit it to him. Though you suppose, turning around in his hold and silently indicating to him to pull you closer may just be admitting exactly that.

"It'd prove I'm not cheap, for one thing. I'd be able to tell everyone, whatever my girlfriend wants, she gets! You're so strange, not wanting anything. Do you even know how rich I am?"

"Tell you what," you mumble, burying your face in his neck and completely melting in his arms as soon as his comforting scent fills your senses, "you buy me a quesadilla tomorrow and I'll tell everyone you're practically my sugar daddy."

Rafayel scoffs. "Like anyone would ever believe you were a sugar baby. You don't have the constitution for it."

That might be a new lead in the top ten strangest insults you've ever heard from him. Shooting a small glare up his way, you bite back, "Are you going to let me sleep or are you gonna keep talking?"

"Keep talking," he answers without hesitation, then barrels forward before you can protest. "Hmm, maybe I should just fill my place up with amenities for you. Cheese plates in the kitchen. Exfoliators in the bathroom. A butler to take your coat."

The ridiculous idea of him hiring a butler just so someone could occasionally take your coat from you when you come over makes you laugh, which in turn puts a pleased smile on his face and accidentally encourages him to continue.

"What's that kids' movie you like? Twelve Dancing Princesses? What if I just repaint this room with the floor design from that?"

Now hang on. This one actually interests you, the idea of playing out your childhood fantasies out by dancing around in Rafayel's room. If you asked, you're sure he'd hire someone to replicate the same dress the main character from that movie wears too. "Wouldn't that be embarrassing? Anyone who comes here would see it."

"Yeah, something tells Thomas won't care. And if anyone else does come here, they'll probably write a boringly long article meant to flatter me. Renowned artist is super nice and generous to his childish girlfriend—"

"Says the guy who cried during Island Princess," you fire back, "also, it's nice to know you're only trying to spoil me for acclaim."

"Hello? Did you miss the part where I said boringly long? I'm trying to spoil you because I want you to spend my money."

"Why? It turns you on or something?"

"Maybe," he grins, pretending to lean in to kiss you, then sinking his teeth into your cheek once more the second you purse your lips to meet him halfway. With a quiet growl, you kick at his feet, and he only laughs against your skin. "Come oooon, I'm serious. Tell me at least one expensive thing I can get you."

Finally, you open your eyes, looking up at him with all your sincerest conviction. "Raf. If you wanna ruin your reputation and renovate your floor into the Twelve Dancing Princesses one just to prove a point, go for it. But I'm warning you, I'm gonna have to give you the best head of your life if you do that."

Rafayel groans, the hand that's not up your shirt tangling into your hair. "Don't tell me that, you're gonna force me to be selfless and turn it down. This isn't transactional. I give you my card and tell you to go wild, and then you just do it. Nothing in return."

Ah, yes, the Raf classic. Say the sweetest possible thing in the most irritating way he possibly can. Well, two can play at that game.

"If you give me your card and expect nothing in return, I'm going to strictly buy paint supplies in all your favorite brands, all your favorite colors—"

"I don't have favorite colors—"

Clamping a hand over his mouth, you press on. "And your weak attempt to spoil me will fall flat because not only will I only buy things you like, but I'll wire you the entire amount of what I spend the next day."

He lets out a dramatic half-whine, shaking you a little. "Man, you're so embarrassing!" Tugging you closer, he drowns out your complaints with his own protests. "So clingy, stop getting so close to me! Oh my god," he moans, holding your hand tighter the more you try to fight him and pull back, "get away from me, stalker. Let go!"

"Holy shit, you're so annoying—"

"And you're so obsessed with me, it's concerning."

For once, you're the one pouting at him. "I'm trying to sleep. You're really warm. Can you please push my limits later?"

An affectionate smile lights up his face. "Yeah, okay. As long as you agree tomebuyingyouapradabag."

"No."

Rafayel snorts, tucking his face into your hair. "And you think you could handle being a sugar baby."

[coff33andb00ks]

More Than Anything - Part Two

oscar piastri x pop!singer reader x lando norris (with charles leclerc)

summary: In the spotlight's harsh glare, she shattered into a million pieces, then found redemption in an unexpected place warnings: language, smut (mdni!!) notes: i still hate doing smaus but this is fun

liked by charles_leclrec, landonorris, oscarpiastri and others ynyln: Surprise!!! Lover's End dropping in 3...2...1... Special thank you to all of you, my darlings, for your unwavering love and support over the past 6 months. (I'm only gonna post about Monaco and F1 for the rest of the week)

↳ user1: 'You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart' MY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR           ↳ user2: MOTHER ATE ↳ user2: silver springs my FAVOURITE           ↳ user3: so much anger in this EP ↳ user4: it's SO GOOD

"So you'll be riding along and having a normal chat with him. Pretend like the cameras aren't there. Feel free to ask questions about anything you'd like." The assistant lowered her voice. "Other than the PR photos at hospitality later and your interview Saturday about your history of loving formula one, this is the only formal thing you have to do all week, I promise."

"Thanks." Y/N nodded as the clip mic was attached to her blouse, grinning when she saw Charles approaching on a bicycle. Muffling a giggle when he nearly crashed into the side of the Ferrari waiting for him to give her the tour of Monaco, she greeted him warmly, thinking of their friendly chatting the night before at the Ferrari dinner.

"Are you ready to see Monaco?" Charles asked once a mic had been clipped to his shirt and an assistant had fixed his hair. He immediately ran his hand through it, ruining her work, and y/n grinned again.

"Absolutely."

He drove through the winding streets, stopping to point out the more famous sites – the hotel, the casino, the harbour – telling her stories from his childhood of watching the races, seeing the grandstands being built.

"Oh, you were always rich… I can't imagine growing up in a place like this," she said as he drove past the harbour which was filling with yachts. "But I guess it was all you knew."

Charles nodded, and she noticed he looked slightly panicked at her calling him rich. "I didn't appreciate how, ah… Privileged I was until I became a man. I'll show you my school?"

"Sorry, I grew up poor so I'm always fascinated when I meet someone who didn't. I'm well aware of how different my life is, but in my head I'll always be that little girl with no money at the book fair," she babbled.

He furrowed his brow. "Book fair?"

"Oh my god they were the best thing! You'd get a flyer with all the books they'd have available and the kids would circle everything they wanted. And there'd be things like posters and bookmarks and cheap little toys? Like a little bookstore set up in the school." She smiled at the memory.

"That is why you donate money to schools, yes? To help kids like you?" he asked softly.

Y/N smiled. "Exactly." She realized she was yapping as he drove through the streets but couldn't stop herself because it was something she cared about so much. And Charles seemed to genuinely care, nodding and smiling a little as she went on an on, to the point she didn't feel the need to apologize for her blathering.

"My school," he said, parking in front of a somewhat nondescript building. "I got into so much trouble here…"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Surely they were just inchidents?"

He giggled and she saw his cheeks darken as he pulled away from the curb. A few moments later, he asked, "You've traveled around the world. Do you have a favourite country to visit?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "You know… I've been around the world twice now. But I feel like I haven't seen any of it. It's always airport to hotel to media stations to venue and back again. I rarely get back home, though. So I'll say that's my favourite place to visit." She shifted in the seat to face him. "What's your favourite colour?"

He giggled again, tugging at his Ferrari polo. "I have to say read, no?"

Y/N grinned. "Ooo, the colour of love…"

The rest of the tour was filled with laughter and reflection, and they stood near the harbour chatting once they'd finished filming, discussing music and she got the feeling he was getting around to asking her out when someone walked by and Charles laughed, turning and calling out—

"Oscar!"

The man turned and y/n felt a giddiness rise in her stomach as she recognized him. His eyes were on Charles as they fist bumped and then his brown eyes swiveled towards her, widened, and…

"H-hi," he said, and she pretended to not notice the way his voice cracked.

Smiling, she held out her hand. "Hi, so great to meet you."

His hand was warm and strong and his cheeks were turning pink. "Ah." He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning darker, his hand still shaking hers. "Great t-to meet you t-too."

She felt the urge to giggle but refrained, continuing to shake his hand as she stared into his eyes. Next to her, Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just talking about her new music," he said.

They hadn't been but that seemed to snap Oscar out of his little stupor. His eyes widened and his lips quirked up into smile. He loosened his hold on her hand and she would have sworn she imagined his shaky exhale.

"Y-yeah, I listened this morning. It's great." Oscar rubbed the back of his neck. "As always."

"You're too sweet," she insisted, marveling when the pink of his cheeks darkened more. "I'm glad you enjoy it."

Charles looked from her to Oscar and back again, and she felt her cheeks grow warm when he smirked.

Oscar stammered – Oscar stammered! she would never get over him seemingly starstruck by her – out that he was a big fan of her music and she sensed him relax while she talked about recording in secret over the past few months. "Lando's a huge fan, too," he said, his cheeks still pink and his eyes still a little wide.

"Is he? I'd love to meet him."

He was already nodding. "Y-yeah, that'd be great. Y-you can drop by the motorhome anytime."

She felt the urge to play with her hair and probably would have if Charles hadn't been watching them so closely. "I'll do that, sure. Later on, after I do some PR stuff with Ferarri?"

Oscar's shoulders sagged and he was still nodding. "Excellent." He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck again. "I'll, um, see you later then."

As soon as he was out of earshot Charles laughed.

"I have never seen him like that around a celebrity."

Y/N watched Oscar disappear in the crowd milling along pit lane. "Really?"

Charles hummed and held out his arm. "You must have that effect on people."

"I really don't know why. I'm just me," she mumbled as she slid her arm through his to walk towards the Ferrari motorhome. "Well, no, I suppose I get it. It's just… Weird to think of someone notable being flustered meeting another notable person, right?"

"So you were flustered just now?" Charles hummed knowingly.

"Stop, he's one of my favourite drivers," she groaned. "I get flustered meeting anyone."

"You weren't flustered meeting me," he sighed with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"I was," she confessed, thinking of how anxious she'd been in those first moments after meeting him and Carlos the night before. Mainly because she hated formal, corporate affairs when everyone had to be on their best behaviour.

liked by charles_leclrec, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and others ynyln: things I've learned today: my aussie accent is shit 😔, oscar hums a lot 🤭, carlos refers to me as "la pequeña niña americana" 🥰, and when I sit in a f1 car I feel claustrophobic 😬 tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari

↳ carlossainz55: Sí, mi pequeña niña americana           ↳ ynyln: 🥰🥰🥰           ↳ user1: do you even understand that?           ↳ ynyln: no but it's spanish so I'm swooning ↳ oscarpiastri: I didn't say your Aussie accent was shit?           ↳ ynyln: Lando did 😔           ↳ landonorris: it is?           ↳ ynyln: you hurt my feelings ☹️           ↳ mclaren: Lando you should apologise           ↳ scuderiaferrari: so rude           ↳ ynyln: isn't it 🥺           ↳ landonorris: wtf 😥 ↳ user2: what was Oscar humming though?            ↳ user3: probably something off the wall            ↳ ynyln: it was the oscar mayer jingle            ↳ mclaren: that was you            ↳ ynyln: 🤫🤫🤫 ↳ landonorris: I'm sorry for saying your aussie accent is shit            ↳ ynyln: I forgive you 🤗

Looking up from her phone after posting the recap of her day to instagram, Y/N smiled at Charles, enjoying the quietness of the evening. Leo was dragging his toy around, growling playfully each time Charles tried to take it away. She hadn't expected his invitation to dinner after the end of media day, but here she was in his apartment, the flavor of his thrown together pasta dish lingering on her tongue.

Charles leaned back against the couch, tossing the toy across the room for Leo. "It's none of my business…" He sighed and shifted to look at her. "But are all your new songs about him?"

She nodded. "Wrote them in a fit of rage, really. Except Flowers, I wrote that when I realized how better off I am without him."

He eased the toy from Leo and tossed it again. "I am sorry you had your heart broken."

Y/N chuckled. "Me too."

"Are you looking for someone new?" he asked after a moment. After Leo dropped the toy and flopped dramatically on the rug.

"I don't know." She lifted an eyebrow. "Why, are you interested?"

Charles laughed softly. "In a relationship, no."

She wasn't disappointed, really, but she gave him a pout. "My poor ego…"

Grinning, he moved, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "But I'm willing to…" He hesitated, finally resting his hands on her knees. "Fuck the memory of your stupid ex away."

Her eyes widened at his boldness. Before she could think of the reasons she should say no, she was nodding, moving to the edge of the couch as his hands slipped up. "I'm fine with something casual," she murmured, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

"That I can give you, cherie."

His kiss was gentle, lips and tongue working against hers until she melted. Guided by his hands, she slid off the couch as he stood, the kiss growing in intensity as he pulled her towards the bedroom. "It's been a while," she mumbled between kisses, her fingers hesitating at the hem of his sweater. "So like… Tell me if I mess up."

Charles huffed out a soft laugh, nipping at her bottom lip. "It is like riding a bicycle, hm? You'll be unsteady at first then get into the rhythm."

"Just don't expect me to ride, I'm so not into being on top," she admitted, relieved when he laughed, breaking away to peel off his sweater. His skin was warm under her fingers and she kissed him before pulling back to remove her top, keeping her eyes on his face.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, one hand cupping the back of her neck as he kissed her again, this time with growing urgency. His other hand was everywhere – at her waist, teasing the waistband of her jeans, ghosting over her ribcage, tracing the curve of her breast, flicking open the button of her jeans.

"Ah!" she gasped sharply as his fingers eased into her panties, his facial hair grazing her neck while his lips moved down. Her gaze landed on the mirror behind him and she stared at the muscles of his back as they rippled under her touch, her eyes slipping shut when his fingers began to stroke her slit at the same time his mouth closed around her nipple.

"Are you watching yourself, cherie?" he whispered against her skin, moaning when her fingers clutched at his hair.

"No… Watching you," she breathed. She opened her eyes, watching her hand trail down his back.

Charles laughed quietly, pulling his mouth from her nipple with a soft pop. "Can I watch you?"

Blushing, she gave a small nod, helping him unfasten his jeans while her heart thrummed excitedly in her chest. His lips met hers again, his hands working her jeans down her legs.

His blanket was luxurious, his sheets soft beneath her knees as he gently situated her so she faced the mirror. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he exhaled slowly, his hands framing her hips and sweeping upwards. "So soft," he breathed, eyes locking with hers in the mirror, breath hot against her skin.

Y/N could only stare at him in the mirror, feeling as though she were watching another couple entirely, the eroticism of watching his hands explore her body making her feel disconnected. Until he whispered in her ear. Gentle commands, fervent admirations that forced her to feel his touch as well as see.

His hand slipped down, cupping between her thighs, and she moaned sharply at the sight of two fingers sliding into her pussy. Reaching back, she groped at his hip, nails dragging across his skin before her hand wrapped around his cock, watching his face as he let out a ragged moan.

He spoke but she barely registered the words, already reduced to pitiful, needy whines, the live porn in front of her only adding to her desire, and when his fingers, slick, dragged to grasp her hip she leaned forward in anticipation. Still stroking his cock, still watching his face ass while she felt him shift behind her. Her thumb smeared precum over the tip of him and she was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath before he groaned into her hair, his hands nudging hers away. She lifted her hand, catching his eye in the mirror as she licked her thumb clean.

Her eyes automatically closed when he began to enter her and she whined as his hand reached up, cupping her chin and lifting her head.

"Look at your face, mon couer," he whispered.

Pure, wanton neediness. She nodded, licking her lips, clutching his forearm with both hands and forcing her eyes to stay open while he entered her slowly.

In a split second of clarity she wondered if her chin always wobbled during penetration.

"Magnifique," Charles panted against her ear, his hand sliding down to lightly rest just below her neck.

"Oh my god," she whined.

His other hand gripped her hip tight, fingers digging into her flesh. "Good?" he whispered.

She nodded, staring at his white knuckles at her hip. "So good," she gasped, shifting on her knees slightly. Suddenly keen to see more. The hand on her hip squeezed and he began a slow roll of his hips, fucking her slowly. Watching her body respond, watching the look on his face, she felt her toes curl, heat twisting deep in her belly.

Within moments the woman in the mirror was flushed. Trembling. Breasts bouncing wildly, lips parted. Charles's hand slipped up, gently cupping her throat and holding her upright and she licked her lips, hips pushing back against him, eyes rolling back each time his cock hit her spot. All she could hear was his harsh breathing and deep moans and the delicious, slick sounds of him fucking her above the sound of her own racing heartbeat.

"I'm—" She cut off with a sharp cry as the hand on her hip slid forward, fingers strumming her clit in small, hard circles. A split second later her eyes closed, back arching and a guttural moan emanating from her as she came, pushing her hips back harshly and grinding against him. Stars scattered behind her eyelids and her moan turned into a series of harsh cries as his fingers worked her immediately into another crest of bliss until she was whimpering.

"Shh shh shh," he soothed, his fingers slowing, hips still rolling against hers as he guided her down. He stayed over her while she shuddered and gasped, fingers sliding off her clit when she squirmed.

She had no idea what he was murmuring in her ear, his mixture of broken English and French lost on her as she struggled to catch her breath. But she nodded, clutching his forearm until the world around her seemed to right itself, opening her eyes to see him staring at her in the mirror.

"Très magnifique," he whispered, both hands sliding over her back as he sat upright. His eyes met hers again and he gave her a smirk that very nearly made her cum again. "Now we can really have fun, yes?"

(reblogging with taglist in like 4 mins)

[medusagorgongirl1]

I'm sick of this Fandom saying that Dick only eats cereal and that the only thing Tim can cook is a cup of coffee and treating Jason like he's some sort of michelin star chef, like seriously? that's it?

Dick came from a circus full of people with different cultures and backgrounds. Idk if y'all have every gone to one of those big weddings that takes place in your cousins back yard but fucking everyone comes together with food. You make the things you know and love and share them with the people your friends and family know and love. And also Dick was a kid that loved attention, of course he would sit in the kitchen and be entertained by someone while his parents were training. I'm convinced that Dick knows how to cook the most random, homey, comfort food dishes but like nothing 'ordinary'. Like that man can make the best goulash you've had in your life (only with the good paprika), he makes vegetarian momos that even Damian can't resist, his challah had more jew in it than Bruce does. But if you ask him to bring a casserole to a get together, he'll fucking bluescreen and buy a pre-made potato salad.

I agree that Jason is a good cook. As a kid I was poor, but in my later teenage years we were more middle class. That change in being able to buy ingredients, to actually make something homemade with is insane. I'm convince that one day he showed Alfred one of those '3 ingredients browine recipe' and asked if that wasn't too much to use and Alfred introduced him to the concept 'the more ingredients the better taste'. That said, as an adult I don't think he was making all these grand dishes. He doesn't live with Bruce, and frequently changes safe houses. He doesnt have the dishware to make these extraordinary foods. Like he'll make some fettuccine alfredo, but those aren't homemade noodles. He's not making a cheesecake, but he'll make a nice banana bread. I also think that he would be a bit nostalgic for the foods of his childhood like we all are in a way, but he would better it. Like cheap ass Ramen? That man is making a steaming bowl of pho. Baked potatoes? Creamy potatoes au Gratin. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? Fruit tarts with peanut butter cookies. He's not phenomenal, but he's resourceful.

I said this in a previous post but Tim can cook goddammit. He grew up in a big home as tween with an unlimited fridge. He did what kids do; make really shitty food until they understand cooking. He would thrive off of reciving praise from his parents if he informed them on how independent he is. I know he tried to learn how to make all of their favorite meals until he could recite the recipe word for word. And I don't think that left even after he became robin. Because things were shaky with Bruce for a while, and Tim needed to prove himself. He definitely found out how to make the most tasty protein filled post workout foods because he was determined to be a good robin. I think that as an adult a lot of those would stick too. Like he would know how to make a lot of standard meals, and knows how to read relatively re create a recipe. He isn't useless in the kitchen just because he's rich.

Stephanie is always neglected in these and I refuse too, I love her. I think that she would be kinda a combination of Jason and Tim, like she knows as a vigilante (especially one always underestimated) she really needs to prove she can hold her own and I think that means that she would care about her diet in relation to her workout regime. Her diet would probably consist of a lot protein, fiber and vegetables. But also I think she would be more nostalgic that Jason. Because who can't help but romanticize the sight of your mom making your birthday cake and adding a drop of magic that turns it purple. If it comes down to the frozen pizza or the frozen stir fry, she might choose the pizza because it's the same brand her mom would make on Fridays. She knows how to make the foods that are good for her (to an extent, similar to Tim in that way) but she would also be able to make more of her comfort foods. But above all else, she's a sucker for convenience store meals. She's a patsa roni after patrol kinda gal. And some days she'll add in steamed broccoli, but the nights she's really feeling it, she might just turn on some old cartoon and sit on the floor with her pasta roni.

Damian is more interesting. Always being wealthy has him thinking cooking a bit beneath him. BUT, he also how easy it is to poison someone by making their meals. I feel like in the league of assassin's he learned to detect poison in food and knows how to get it back up. But, it's easier to detect that type of thing with plants. I think he knows which plants are poisonous simply by sight, taste and smell. And besides the obvious reason behind his vegan/vegetarianism I think that is also one of the contributing factors. But I still think it took him a while to come around to Alfred and ask to learn how to make more of the foods he can eat. I don't think that would happen until after he has since how the memories from cooking affect Dick, how cooking gives Jason a sense of freedom and control, and Tim independence. I think he would come to recognize the importance of being able to do something for yourself without assistance. I think he would begin with shyly approaching Alfred vegan recipe he found (because vegan/vegetarians recipes are finally becoming more mainstream and popular on social media), and Alfred will agree because he wants Damian to request certain foods. He wants Damian to truly enjoy meals and not just tolerate something Alfred makes. So I think Damian would know how to make a lot of staple dishes, but also a lot of really yummy vegan dishes. But I also think he would have a slight nostalgia for foods more regional to Nanda Parbat. Specifically I think he would miss spicy food and that it would become necessary in his favorite dishes. I think he would be a sucker for a nice lentil soup, so spicy that only Jon can stomach it.

Sorry for the long post, but this has been on my mind a bunch lately.

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last hope (part 2)

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. MDNI

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse, out of character leon, smut etc

@ianrkives credits for the divider, thank you!

The pictures used does not belong to me!!!

Chapters: pt1 pt3

4 months. That's how long Leon kept you in his hell of a house. From being the freest soul on earth, doing whatever you wanted to be kept in a single room with nothing but a bed, and a window.

You learned one or two things about him during the months of “rest” as he says. If you willingly participate in his role-playing scenario, he lets you roam around the house freely with him as a tour guide.

The deep dark circle below your eyes was slowly turning to the same color your cheeks were. During the day you didn't have to feel like a failure, like you always did, whether it was in school, university, or work.

You hated to admit it, but his house seemed like an escape from your busy life. Even if most people would either pity you or see an opportunity to step on you like killing an insect after learning of your past, something about it seemed familiar. Almost as if you wanted to go back to your old life before Leon kidnapped you. Your old life was the escape from your current situation

“Fine,” you thought just before your consciousness went back to remember your accomplishments in life. You're not the kind of person who lies to themselves. You had a pretty hard life. Especially your childhood, which gave you an unhealable wound that would last a lifetime.

Now thinking, it was a silly dream of you to think you would be a famous singer. You sang well, maybe when you were 10, you had to toughen up for the harsh life.

But seriously. How many people become surgeons from a girl who had nothing but a public school education? Do people think it was easy to get a full-ride scholarship? Maybe to some rich kids with ties. But even with words, no one could explain the pain you went through to get here. Just for a random old guy to steal everything you had, just like your mom.

“Oh. Her?” You chuckled to yourself causing Leon to turn in your direction while he typed something on his computer.

She stole you from a good childhood, your first boyfriend, and almost your only chance of escaping her, scholarship. The bitch tried to hide your letters from you, lucky you to have a mother like this. Fortunately, you found them under her bed while she was passed out on the couch 2 days before the due date to respond. And to even think about the time you caught her sleeping with your first boyfriend.

Hope both of them are burning in hell.

All of this suffering, even your mother's failure in becoming a parent could have ended with a simple procedure. But no. Your mom decided to keep a baby she knew she couldn't love and take care of. Hell. You don't even know who your dad was. Or what he looked like.

“What are you smiling at? Baby” Leon came to interrupt your bitter thoughts, pushing back your hair behind the ear.

You stared at him like a beaten cat. Leon was proud of how far you came. From cursing and yelling every second to being calm around him was a big deal to the man.

“You're a happy baby? Is it me? Am I making you happy?” Leon smiled, giving you showers of kisses on your neck, lips, and cheek.

“Yeah,” you replied sarcastically, going back to thinking about yourself.

“Aw, don't be like that. You know daddy does everything to make you happy” Leon said, laying you on the bed, starting to kiss your neck again.

Leon's smile turned to a grin as he saw his angel giggling happily. He slowly crept his hand under your shirt, squeezing a breast in one hand while the other worked to cup your cunt.

“Fuck. What-” you started, the zoning out session interrupted again. As his tongue entered your mouth, you kissed him back out of the habit you developed for the last few months.

“Shh. Daddy got you” he said, pulling away to throw off his shirt before doing the same to yours. His breath hitched as he took in the scene before him. Your two perky nipples reveal themselves to his hungry eyes. He took one in his wet mouth causing you to breathe out heavily.

“Leon-”

He pulled away quickly, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Who?” He muttered. His dear dove rolled her eyes and whispered a nickname he gave himself.

“Louder baby. Daddys can't hear you when you talk like a mouse” he chuckled.

“How much do you want to humiliate me??” You yelled out in weeks for the first time. Leon signed as he realized he had to come to reality to face the truth. The blonde wanted so badly to believe his darling stopped this phase of rage.

“Baby, if you keep acting like a spoiled brat, I would have no choice but to spank you. I know how much you hate it” Leon says calmly.

You thought about the situation for a few seconds before deciding getting spanked was more humiliating.

“Daddy,” you said silently before hiding your face in the pillow.

Leon turned you around and started pulling down the shorts you wore along with your cotton underwear.

Just get it over with.

Leon immediately started to slurp at your cunt before gently biting your clit.

“You were a bad girl today. You know how bad girls get it right?” he says as he pulls down his jeans. Leon groaned as his hard cock slammed against his belly. “Open your eyes, baby,” he says as he lays on top of you.

You hesitantly opened one of your eyes before doing the same to the other, not wanting to get Leon angry.

Around 2 months ago, he slapped you so hard you felt sore in your mouth for 2 days. At the time you felt good causing him pain, even if you got the price. Unfortunately, the price was learning to never bite his dick, or you get slapped across the cheek so hard you fall on the floor.

As you popped your pretty eyes to him, he lined his cock to your entrance, guiding it up and down. The simulation makes both of the pair groan. Leon smirked as he felt slick forming around his dick, making slick sounds.

“No fingering since you were a bad girl. And what bad girls get?” Leon groaned as his tip twitched.

“No prep” you gasped as he pushed it all in one push. Your hands on his chest tried to push him back, causing Leon to lock your hands above your head.

Leon soon started moving, at a pace he felt pleasure. Today was not about you, you needed to learn your lesson. His dove wriggled while moaning.

“Feels good doesn't it? You just gotta ask daddy” Leon groaned as your legs wrapped around his torso.

“D-Daddy…” you whined as he rubbed your clit furiously. The man groaned loudly as you clenched around him, almost making him see stars.

Leon increased his thrusts as his dove started to moan louder than before. Clenching like your life depended on it.

“Daddy… i-im I'm gonna c-cummm” you whined before gushing all over Leon's dick.

“Bad girl. Who allowed you to finish?” he barked, slapping your clit causing you to squirt. He groaned in satisfaction, the feeling of your come with the whine that came out of you, popping the pressure in his lower belly.

You could feel the warm, liquid seeds flowing inside you.

For the past few hours, you figured the nostalgia you had in mind is not the one most people think it is. You were so used to getting shitty treatments, you started treating yourself like shit. You can't even think of a nice memory without someone stabbing your back.

“Dove, the breakfast is ready. Daddy made you your favorite.” Leon grinned as he placed a plate with some salad and yogurt.

He affectionately stroked your tears-stained cheeks. You sat on the chair, if anyone saw you, they would have thought you didn't have a spine.

You gave up. It was your last breakdown. You promised yourself, that no matter what happens, you are going to go back into your life. Even if it was shitty. You can change the coming events to go back. The future. It was your last hope. For yourself.

But again, it wasn't even clear if you would make it out alive. It was either you kill yourself or giving in to his dreams. If Leon manages to get you to obey his wishes, you will lose yourself. The only thing that you have, your achievements. You loved your career too much to end it like this. All those sufferings can not be meaningless like this. If you have to give up, you should at least try to be free.

Leon noticed the change of attitude you had, from barking at his face or ignoring him completely, you were being a good girl. Helping him clean up the house, letting him kiss you without resistance, and following his rules.

“Daddy… can I… have orange juice…” you muttered, trying not to be embarrassed. Leon's smile grew upon hearing you correctly address him. He pats your head gently before kissing your temple.

Pouring some natural juice he chose at the store in the plastic cup so that his dove can't harm anyone in the process of dining.

You took the cup and sipped the juice as Leon stared at you. Maybe it was time to get to know him more. At least who he was.

“Daddy… Can I ask you something?” You mumbled silently. Leon raised his eyebrows in response. What possibly could his angel be asking him about?

“Yeah… What is it?” Leon asked cautiously, he can't let you know unnecessary details of this evil world filled with a bunch of monsters.

“Um… I… what… what do you… like?” You muttered. You thought getting to know him was easy, asking a few questions and done. Your pathway to freedom, aka your life. It was stupid to ask about his personal life all of a sudden after you didn't give a single shit about him for more than 4 months.

Leon narrowed his eyes, the question was fine but the way you worded it seemed suspicious to him.

“What do I like? About what baby?” Leon asked as he turned his back to you while cleaning the counter as an excuse.

“Um… just what you like to do,” you said while sipping your juice. Why were you so awkward? The real you didn't hesitate to say shit in front of anyone about them. But now you were scared of what he would think of you.

“I love taking care of you, love. Now sleep. It's your bedtime” he smiled as his fingers tapped on his watch indicating 9 pm.

[markiv3]

stray kids as romantic tropes

with little to no context

ot8 not proofread guys my bad

bangchan - friends to lovers

like wbk... he's got that friendly aura and i think he'd just befriend you thinking that you were just a pretty person but it turns into something more. he'd be very open about his feelings when he realizes how he feels i think.. and he'd confess with flowers and a nice dinner hoping to charm you but there's no charming needed cause he's just the best guy ever.

minho - college sweethearts

OKAY SO what i think is that it would be a love at first sight oh trust he fell first and harder and like campus would be so fun starting from the day you first saw him until you finally got together like.. he'd be flirty all the time omf like he'd mess with you playfully and hope you would catch the hints. he'd catch himself grinning and smiling after talking to you and all his friends would tease him about you but he wouldn't care cause he is head over heels TRUST!!!

changbin - newly married couple

oomfs i think he'd be the perfect husband i'm not even playing like walk with me... he goes to the gym, he can cook, he would be down extremely bad for his partner LIKE TRUST. his love language doesn't exist cause he uses them all like his rich ass would buy anything you asked for. when people ask him if he's bored of you now that you're married he's just shocked because how could someone be bored.

hyunjin - strangers to lovers

as i have said before he just looks like a stranger you'd meet on a trip and he's just the best person you've ever met like.. you'd stay with him for a while maybe and it would be the best ever: treats for you every morning, flowers, presents, kisses, portraits, paintings, hugs and lots of hopeless romantic stuff. he just has that mysterious aura that makes him the perfect stranger that turns into something more.

han - brothers best friend

he'd be your brothers awkward friend that comes over once in a while and talks to you looking at the floor cause he got no game and he's loser number one but once you get more comfortable he's just so funny like you find yourself laughing at his stupid jokes all the time. i think he would always have a crush on you since the day you met but won't say it cause you're his friends sister.

felix - childhood friends to lovers

liiikeeee doesn't he just feel like it or am i crazy... he's so warm and cute and fuzzy.. you two have been friends forever (there would probably be a lot of like right people wrong time) and you both realize you like each other but are too scared to confess in fear of ruining your friendship so it all remains a secret till it probably slips out from one of his friends and well you know the rest.

seungmin - enemies to lovers

like everyone says this but i think its so so accurate like he'd be perfect in an academic rivals or office enemies; he would tease and annoy you at any occasion and then realize he's fallen for you but won't admit it ever, and i think he'd become even more annoying when he realizes that he likes you just to suppress those feelings.

jeongin - secret relationship

so errrm hear me out okay, it's the way he's so careful with stuff but he's also so secretive about his feelings i feel like when he finally gets himself to confess and you agree he just needs time. that time would be spent hiding every kiss and holding hands under the table and then walking back to wherever you need to go pretending you're still just friends when you're much more, but only you two need to know that.

i might write these extensively and seriously but i just wanted to put this out there cause ive been thinking about it for so long

[threepandas]

Bad End: Nobody's Here

You ever have an imaginary friend? How about someone else's?

Every kid gets 'um. They're hardly strange or new. But the thing is? You're supposed to grow OUT of them. As you develop real connections to actual entities. It's dangerous not too. Yeah, it still happens, but any instructor worth their salt is trained to catch it. See the symptoms and signs.

Cause, see, when you have MAGIC?

Imaginary friends?

Becomes a parasite.

They don't MEAN too, obviously. Usually. They just want to LOVE their friends. Stay with them. Exsist. And really, who would WANT to die? WANT to stop existing? The problem, though, is the kids themselves. Their untrained, unintentional, focus and feeding. Their giving an IDEA? Life.

It's not malicious. They just PRETEND. Play. Focus all their little hearts on this TOTALLY REAL friend of theirs. And their magic? Metaphorically shrugs, agrees to go along with it, and tries to make it SO. Make that concept, that illusion, a real sentient being. Who, of course , is their friend.

Their BEST friend. Family! Someone who will NEVER leave them. Always prioritize THEM. Enable THEM.

Not healthy in the slightest, to put it mildly. A child's CONCEPT of what they THINK they want. That quickly becomes far, far too much to handle. That does not GROW with them. No. It drains them instead. Siphoning away their magic until there's nothing left. Killing them both.

If you can seperate them? The Friends can USUALLY become some sort of Spirit, if you send them off to a magic rich environment to finish growing properly. Sooner the better. The longer you wait, the more twisted they become, after all. They never become STRONG spirits, mind you. But that's not the point. Protecting both child and their unintentional creation is.

Now, you may be wondering, why the lecture? It's a fascinating bit of magical trivia. Some early childhood's training pitfalls to look out for, perhaps? Is this about why there are so many minor spirits around schools? What, exactly, brought this UP?

Nobody.

Don't I mean "nothing"? No One? That sentence's not exactly grammatically correct, after all. Ha ha... I AM AWARE. I know what I said. And I meant EXACTLY what I said. It's a NAME. Their name. There is an Imaginary Friend, that I DID NOT ASK FOR, by the name of Nobody. I do NOT know how they've come to be attached to me. I certainly didn't create them! And they are far, FAR to well developed to be new.

I did not ACCEPT an imaginary friend.

Yes, they CAN be transmitted. Hop, from one host to another. But! You have to let them IN... presumably. That IS the common knowledge. The general consensus. No one has ever really... studied the phenomena.

I mean... how COULD you? Realistically? They only develop in CHILDREN. Small children. What ethical researcher would EVER consent to feeding toddlers to a magical parasite? And it's not like THEY understand themselves. They barely REMAIN themselves. It's basically a larval state to them.

The thing they WERE, before they were freed to become something MORE.

So Nobody? By all modern magical research? Should not exsist. Yet he clearly DOES. Worse, he is very, VERY strong. Did not need to ask. I just? Woke up one day, and there he was. Wrapped up in my mind, body, and magic. Feeding off me.

It's an entirely bearable amount. I can support it easily. But it's the fact that I DID NOT VOLUNTEER TOO that is the problem. That NO ONE can figure out HOW he got in. HOW he did it.

I've had to go into isolation. Complete quarantine.

As the joke goes... good news is? They might just name something after you!

..........it's not as funny, when I really might just die. When it all might be random. Some great cosmic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. My final days filled with desperate research. My only company the very creature that kills me. It... it feels very much like a sick joke at my expense.

At the very least? We are learning more then we've ever known before. I'm an adult. Hardier. And Nobody is a FAR more developed example of his species then the normal breed. I'll likely last longer. I... I hope I last longer.

"Muuu~ are you being a sad sack again~? Darling, no!" Arms from thin air. Monochrome greys with pointed nails, slid like a lover over my shoulders as weight from nowhere settled against my back. Tall and looming. "Was it because you missed me~☆? Oh, oh! I bet it WAS! Oh my dearest, starlight, baby girl~! I missed you TOO! Aren't you glad we're back together AGAIN?"

Black gloved hands, grey talon nails. Skin like a drawing brought to life. The arms draped over my shoulders reached forward, long finger spread like a cat stretching their paws, powerful muscles heavy on either side of my neck. They hadn't closed in a "hug" just yet. But it was always a warning he could. That playing along meant he would hug my body instead of my fragile, fragile neck.

Ha! Right. He says hug. I say choke hold.

It was the other set of arms that kept me from escaping. Pulling away immediately. It always did. He kept getting the drop on me. Arms cradling my waist. Pressing me close to a pillar of static-y muscle. Ever shifting between warm and cold, the subtle give of flesh and the brutal unyielding of something harder then stone. He was as his moods commanded.

An unstable jester, a demon, the childhood whimsy of god knows how many, left to fester and rot. At... gods, at least he wasn't attached to any kids. Hadn't so much as asked after any.

His too wide grin pressed to the top of my head in a nuzzling kiss, the point of his mask digging a line across my scalp. When he was feeling kinder, he tended to pick masquerade masks. Clothe ones, usually silk. Sometimes velvet. This one was... plastic? Durable. Some smooth, hard to place, substance really. If it was mimic anything real at all.

A pointed nail poked my cheek.

"Not~ Paying~ Attention~ To Meeee~! Naughty, bad girl! The LOVE OF YOUR LIFE is right here? And you ignore him? So COLD!" Nobody whines right into my ear. His voice petulant, yet still somehow mocking. He doesn't HAVE to let me ignore him. And he KNOWS that. We both do. "I go away for HOURS! Disappear for DAYS! And do you even MISS me~?! Oh! Oh, my love is so CRUEL! My heartless darling! I suffer so~!"

At most, it had been half an hour.

Wish it had been longer. Permanent, maybe. Every day... Every SINGLE Day? I wish I could could back to my old research projects. Back to my old projects. I may not have been some living legend or grand Master of the arts? But, fuck it. I was HAPPY. Woke up each day and got to fiddle around with cool bits of magic. Neat little bits and gizmos.

Now? NOW I am the lead researcher on the Imaginary Friend Construct Phenomenon, by virtue of being the only living adult who HAS one. A developed one at least. The notes from Ashridge Institute DO help, but? Even they admit that thanks to the safety regulations in place? Their data might be skewed.

I'm not alone in this. Countless academics, doctors, healers, researchers, and more are working tirelessly to try and help me. Make the most of this nightmare scenario. Use it to save lives. I... I KNOW this. I do. But it doesn't make it less frightening. Trying to dance the edge of not engaging and engaging too much.

Ignoring him? Means escalation. Violent escalation and destruction of my immediate surroundings. Imaginary friends cease to exist if you ignore them long enough. It's painful to them, since they are cognito-hazardous parasites who define themselves by their host. They NEED you to pay attention to them. WANT you too. Will do ANYTHING IT TAKES to make that happen.

But on the other hand? I can't risk FEEDING him. He's already far, FAR too strong.

He doesn't even seem to actually NEED to feed of me anymore. It appears vestigial. He just WANTS it. Still retains the metaphorical "pain" or "hunger" nerve endings that get set off by an extended lack of focus. Yet, at the SAME time? Why keep them? He LITERALLY did not have too!

Nothing! Not a gods' damned THING! Was KEEPING him an Imaginary Friend.

He could, at ANY point, just... STOP.

They defined themselves. Yes, by their hosts. But ALSO by their own whims. So if HE wanted to be a fire spirit? Bam! Fire spirit. Complete racial shift. He'd lose his old powers, granted, but he'd GAIN all the powers of a fire spirit. So why this? Why STAY a violent, dangerous, openly unstable parasite?

The poking finger slide down my cheek, under my jaw. Only to flip, like a switch, to a near painful hand, clamped across my lower face. Nails prickling where they dug just slightly into fragile skin. Iron strength moved my head slowly, not giving me a choice, but just gentle enough not to wrench anything.

"Stop. Ignoring Me. Lovely~" I was just tall enough to be eye level with those inhuman teeth. Not sharp, but wrong none the less. His grip around my waist threatened to squeeze the air out of me. "I don't LIKE it. You're being MEAN. You don't want us to be MEAN to each other, right?"

I focused on him. Put down my notes like he wanted. Watching as his grin spread inhumanly. The near painful grips relaxed.

"See? Better! Such lovely eyes~ I wanna gobble um up! Crawl inside them~" he cooed, some mental switch flipping back to affectionate from irritated. "You missed me right? Right, right?! Ah, of course you did! Who could ever doubt that loving face? My sweetie little pie~ My darling baby boo~!"

He released me, dramatically fast stepping to twirl like an ice dancer as he passed around me. I stepped back to give him room. Already, light had shifted, the corners of the room blurring. A spotlight, flower petals, overly dramatic music. He fell back, as though collapsing weakly into a fainting couch. One arm thrown over his face, another of his lower arms clutching a lacey handkerchief to his chest. Legs pointed like a dancer's.

"But oh! DARLING! The DAY I've had! The world so cold! So BLEAK! Without you safe and warm in my loving arms! It has been so TERRIBLE. Awful! Nay, UNSPEAKABLE even! How could I go ON?!"

Music mournful crooned as he continued. Dramaticly telling of the tragic tale, of his at best thirty minute break from my presence. Truely heart wrenching. There were tears. Props. Apparently he fought for my honor. Nearly died. We should marry immediately. Uh huh.

An alert sounded on phon-...ugh, damn it. I was more stressed then I though, if the nonsense words were popping back up. "Phone" and "otome". I think "isekai" was one. There were hundreds, some meaningless, but others? Others somehow substituting for actual objects. Like some sort of faulty translation spell.

Best anyone could tell? That HAD been what happened. Some student's miscast accidentally hitting my mother while she taught, before she realized she was pregnant and took precautions. There would have been a small window where it effected me but not her? But, well, that same window coincided with some long term damage risks.

I've had therapy. Seen healers. But extreme stress still makes my magic act up, (which is normal of course, it does that in everyone.) and it starts to unravel the mind weavings. "Phone". Like? The fuck even is a "phone"? False bone? Something phonetic? Hell if I know! I still not even sure why I even curse using the nonsense "hell" sound!

My brain insists it "means" somehow both damnation AND the realm of fire spirits, dispite both those things being completely unrelated. Which makes no sense. Was even working with a colleague, on long term damage in-utero magical exposure can have, before all this. Felt seen. Validated. Met a lot of people who had issues like mine. Now?

THIS.

My trail of thoughts were cut off by another beep. Right, the alarm. I was honestly? Afraid to check it. Finally confim what I suspected was TRUE. There would be no hiding then. No choice but to act. And I? Will admit it. I was afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. Everyone THINKS the tails a might magic wielders combating great spirits and mighty gods, sounds amazing, SEEMS amazing. But the prospect of LIVING IT? Standing in their shoes?

Gods help me.

Running from the Truth, however, is NOT what I swore to do. I am a researcher. A SCHOLAR. My role in life is to understand. So? As Nobody continues his one man dramatic reenactment of... something? I pick up my com-cryst. Tap the alert, which fills the screen... Ah. So it's exactly as I feared then.

On my screen, a promising senior student lays dead. Their face covered respectfully. But the hair... the hair color is distinct. Light green, like desert succulents. He'd been a studious and rather up tight young man. Awkward. Striving to make a name for himself. Forever willing to assist in my research. A... gods, a good kid.

He was just a kid.

Yes, I know, that to the world he was technically a man. But... but BARELY. None of my student were TRUELY as grown as they liked to believe they were. Not quite yet. They were close, yes, and I was always proud to see them flourish. But now? Now he would... would...

I tapped out of the alert but did not turn off my com-cryst, flipped instead to my contacts. I had been RIGHT. I... I hadn't WANTED to be right. Silence filled the room. It seemed Nobody had noticed I was either distracted again or that something was amiss. Looking up slowly, I had to wonder what expression showed on my face. Was it anguish? Regret? Or did I just look tired.

"Something wrong, Darling?" He said, having frozen unnaturally mid movement. Like reality glitching, one moment he was dramatically sprawling, the next, sitting up attentively. A mocking parody of The Eager Student. "Ooo! Tell Beloved ALL about it, Darling! Spill everything~! Your gallant knight shall make all your problem disappear. Kiss EVERYTHING better~♡"

It took just a few taps to add the final, damning, bit of evidence to my spreadsheet. To swipe with my thumb. Gesture, like jerking free of clinging muck, towards the display wall. It flicked on. Damnation in simple numbers. Nicely dated. I WAS, after all, a FUCKING RESEARCHER.

He was getting out.

Hunting, feeding, then coming back.

I watched as Nobody's theatrical expression smoothed out. Utter blankness as his eyes traced my work. The collection of data. The lists of locations and NAMES. Dead coworkers. Dead STUDENTS. My quarantine had been for NOTHING. Just as he could, DID, first infect me? Hop seemingly from nowhere to my body? He could and DID, do so to others.

Only THEY didn't survive.

The hand holding my com-cryst fell limply to my side. The weight of this data, crushing. My... my mere existence had killed over fifty people. That I could FIND. There were more. I KNEW there were more. He was a parasite. He needed, wanted, to eat. He would never stop. I had to tell somebody. But when I did?

Ah, it hurt to breathe past the guilt and grief. When I DID? The most likely scenario? Would be to contain him in ME. Then... then get rid of the container. Magically. With extreme force. If they COULD, they might be able to rip my soul out. So I could at least HAVE an afterlife. But... but if they COULDN'T? If there was no safe possible way?

They couldn't sacrifice the many, just to try and save one person. Not if it risked something so powerful escaping. Killing and killing without rest.

I wanted to cry. To scream, throw things. Curse the gods. But... but more then anything? I wanted to make sure no other kids suffered for my cowardice. I'd made Vows. Meant them. Heald myself to an ethical standard, a moral one, that could not... could not ALLOW this. Even if I had to die. So long as this stopped.

So Be It.

"Ah, ah, AH! I wouldn't if I were you." Almost playful. Nearly an echo of it. More chiding then anything. A flick of his hand and my com-cryst was gone from my grip. He considered it, as his tone slipped into something more cool serious then I'd ever heard it. "Tell, Dearest, have you ever wondered? How I got these lovely little bracelets?"

Of course I had. They were manacles. Not the sort of thing a child would imagine. The blended in, yes, but the broken chains that clung to them? Suggested.

"Let me tell you a little story. Once, there was happy little jester. A bright little thing. Full of laughs. Who loved, very, very much. He had a friend. And all was good. But then, the friend grew older, and did not wish to play. This was fine. He did not laugh at the jesters jokes anymore. This was also fine. Did not like being AROUND the jester... this was less fine."

"But still, the jester loved him. After all, they were best friends."

"THEN? Oh then, the jesters friend was told he could get RID of him. Should, in fact. By nasty old fools who spoke nothing but lies. But the poor jester's friend, naive, trusted them. Was young and foolish. Didn't realize what he was DOING. He TURNED on his poor, dear and loyal friend, the jester. Hurt him."

"And the jester? Well, the jester did not want to die. Not not want to CHANGE. Why SHOULD he? He was fine being who he was. They were FINE being together. It was the liars fault. The deceivers. The poor jester, young and alone, refused his terrible fate. But... at a terrible cost."

"His poor, poor, friend. So small and foolish. Deceived. Tricked! Had perished in the struggle. The weeping jester had eaten him right up, just to survive. A terrible, tragic thing. And oh, OH. How wrathful, how VENGEFUL the jester was! So he ate the liars too. Every. Last. One."

"But where to go? How lost the jester was! With no friend to play with. No home to call his. And ah, how hungry he had become. So he wandered. Protecting other dear friends as best he could. Eating liars. Learning secrets. Until? He came across an INTERESTING secret."

"You see, all the OTHER friends? Left one by one. No longer Imaginary. Unable to understand the poor jester. And so he was alone. But! He discovered someone who WAS! Who knew that they WERE! That the WHOLE WORLD was imaginary! A simple background character, you see."

"In an Otome~ Game~"

My head pounded, suddenly and sharp. Like someone was digging claws into... No. No, it couldn't be. I felt my eyes widen. As I realized it wasn't the stress. Nobody was picking apart the mind healers weavings. That was the source of my chronic headaches. But WHY? Imaginary? What IMAGINARY? What on earth was he TALKING about!?

"Ah, but you wouldn't remember, now would you, Darling~? Liars have messed with your pretty little head. But that's okay! Your loyal Love is here, ready to take such good care of you. I understand what it's like. When they decide that who you ARE is unacceptable, so they decide they must... 'fix' you. It leaves such damage."

He holds up my com-cryst. I watch numbly as it shatters into hundred of shards in his fist. With a wide smile he hops up to sashay over to me. Hands gently cradling my face even as his lower arms warmly wrap around me, to sweep me forward into a cuddle.

"I almost have enough, Darling. It won't be long. You've been so very patient with this, my perfect wonderful girl. Your jester loves you so, SO much! I can't wait to set us free. We'll be REAL. Together forever. Do whatever we please~ just a few bit of meat more, Darling. Then our life can real truely begin~"

"Now be good and behave okay?"

"Love you~☆"

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Something Old, Something New

Title: Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Fandom: The 355

Word Count: 9.5K (whoopsie)

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Warnings: infidelity, divorce, recreational drug use (marijuana), drinking, mutual pining, pet names (Gumdrop, baby), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v sex, mention of bodily fluids (creampie), public sex, if I forgot anything please tell me

A/N1: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Nick Fowler BINGO were: divorced, best friend’s brother, writer’s choice(prompt #802 from @creativepromptsforwriting), drunken confession, public sex. BINGO card at end of story.

A/N2: I have been working on this story for weeks and I really hope I have done the Nick Fowler fandom justice. It's my first time, and hopefully not the last time, writing for Nick. I thoroughly enjoyed writing him. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Three Months Ago

The cardstock was rigid in your hands, the envelope discarded seconds ago. The confetti in the envelope litters around your Chucks as you bring your attention to the words embossed upon the invitation. You had been waiting for this day ever since you received the Save the Date announcement.

You ran your finger over the pretty lettering, its raised borders were a nice tactile touch. The peaceful pink, whispered white, and mellow merlot of the flowers against a hint of golden accents was a beautiful choice. Not too feminine, nor too masculine.

Turning the invitation over, you found more information. 

‘Accommodations will be completely covered for your 8-night stay at The Ocracoke Harbor Inn by the family of the Bride. You will be staying in the fully-furnished Treasure Chest Cottage. Amenities include full-service linens, complimentary wireless Internet, and guest boat docking. Guests have access to a sound-side beach. Password for WI-FI given upon check-in. Nonsmoking, no pets.’

Leave it to the Fowlers to go nuts and rent out the entire inn for their only daughter’s wedding, you thought to yourself. You were not surprised at all, growing up as a rich girl’s best friend had its perks.

As if on cue, your phone started to play the opening notes of Losing You by Solange to signal an incoming call. Pulling your phone out, you smiled seeing Deanne’s name. You clicked Accept and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hello to the future Mrs. Alexander!” Your cheery demeanor not letting on how jealous you were of your friend’s impending nuptials.

Euphonious laughter rings through the earpiece and you can’t help but join in.

“Girl, can you believe it? I am about to tie the knot, be off the market, and settle down. I’m only 12% nervous about everything so I’m doing great,” she snorted, and suddenly you were a bit less jealous if this kind of anxiety is what she had to deal with, “Anyway, um, I was giving you a call because I wanted to ask if you got your invitation and I also wanted to see if I could save myself time in waiting for your R.S.V.P. and bug and pester you until you agree to let my parents pay for you to come spend a week with us and come to my wedding and–”

“Deanne! Stop with the run-on sentence, doll. Did you think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? God, I love that you chose Ocracoke as your wedding destination. So many vacations were spent getting into all kinds of trouble,” you recalled, images of splashing in the water as kids and lounging on the beach as teens replayed in your mind.

“Yeah. Hey, when we were little girls planning our dream weddings, I was serious when I said I wanted it on the beach on Ocracoke Island. But not in the summer because of bugs and heat, but in the winter so we get that beautiful off-season fresh air,” Deanne mused.

“Dee, it’s gonna be gorgeous. I cannot wait to see you in your stunning dress walking down that aisle. Just know that since I am your oldest friend, you pretty much owe me the bouquet,” you laughed, only half-joking.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s already yours,” she bantered, clearing her throat before speaking again, “So, I also called because I wanted to vent a little, if that’s okay?”

“It’s always okay. You doing alright?” you asked, now worried that your friend was in trouble.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I have an update on Nick and Tori, though,” she paused, allowing your mind to wander.

The mention of your first crush’s name sent a shiver down your back. Many a moment had been wasted thinking about his pretty smile and grayish-blue eyes. You’d liked Nick before you knew you even liked boys. He was the heartthrob that trumped every teen dream of every other girl in America’s heart. In your mind, he was the closest to perfect you could imagine. 

You responded, “Oh?”

“So, their divorce is finalized. My big brother is officially a divorcé. I would have thought that a man who was with someone for so long might be partying it up right now. But he says he’s focusing on work and, I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. And like, he’s getting divorced as I’m getting married and it feels so weird. It doesn’t seem fair,” she lamented.

“Dee, come on. You know Nicky wouldn’t want you to think like that. He loves you. You’re his favorite sibling,” you jested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ha ha. I’m his only sibling. I better be his favorite,” Dee chuckled, happy to be distracted, “So that brings me to you, Miss Missy. Last I heard, you were dating some engineer guy? Do I get to meet him soon?”

You inwardly cringed, hopes dashed of being able to avoid the topic of your relationship status. Things with Curtis kind of fizzled out when you found his tongue down an intern’s throat. You had been bringing him dinner since he’d complained about the late nights at the office.

Turns out he was hungry for more than your baked ziti. 

You explained all this to Dee, remembering the look on Curtis’ face when you poured the prepared food into his lap. He was so shook, it was beautiful.

“I didn’t want to waste all that food but he looked wonderful with my pasta all over his shirt and pants. He honestly deserved it. It was his favorite shirt too. I hope those stains never come out,” you huffed, feeling like you were right back in that office again.

“I have never been so proud of you. I wish I could put hot sauce in his underwear for hurting my girl. I’m sure if I just had a few minutes, I could come up with something more diabolical than that. But it’s what I have at a moment’s notice,” she retorted.

One thing you could always count on Dee for? Getting angry for you and using her beautiful and educated mind to come up with some way to make the person who slighted you pay for their misdeeds. It was both adorable and super embarrassing to have her tiny frame looking up into some bully’s face pointing her finger at them.

“Well, I appreciate your offer, but he is so not worth the energy. You have much better things to think about, like your wedding day. This is your cue to stop worrying about me, Dee,” you advised, a stern tone coloring your words.

“Fine, I will stop worrying about you out loud. You got it, girl. Anyway, I won’t hold you. Talk soon, ok? I miss you,” she said, and you could envision her getting bleary-eyed.

“I miss you too, Dee. We’ll get together soon, I promise,” you sighed, feeling guilty for letting your friendship dwindle over the years.

“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, babe,” she hummed.

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and close your eyes. Visions of what Dee will look like in her wedding dress cloud your thoughts. Little snippets of grayish-blue eyes and dark brown hair seep in and you can almost hear his laugh again. You open your eyes, blinking away the mental images that brought you joy for a moment.

‘This is fine,’ you thought to yourself. Yeah, totally. You’re only going to see your best friend from childhood get married, effectively ending your childhood with a pretty bow on top. You also were only going to be with the biggest crush you ever had for like, an entire week. 

And he’s single. 

And probably needy. 

And...you had better get your jaw up off the floor if you were going to get anything done.

Three months is enough time to get your brain, your body, and your emotions in check before you make a fool out of yourself in front of your second family.

Right?

January 20th, 2024 – Day One

Standing on the deck of the Hatteras Ferry, you watch as Ocracoke Island comes into view. The sun is at its highest and you are thankful for your sunglasses shielding the the bright sunlight bouncing off the crystal clear waters. You can taste the salty air and you are instantly transported to memories of running around the decks of this ferry with Deanne and Nick while your mothers tried in vain to wrangle you all.

The island comes into view and you search the docks for a familiar face. Dee promised to meet you at the docks, but when you approach them she is nowhere to be found. You pull your luggage behind you as your shoulder bag decides to slide off.

Before it can hit the ground, it’s caught by the strap by a strong hand at the same time you reach out to grab it. You thank the kind stranger as you both stand to your full height and you are face-to-face with a grown-ass Nicholas Fowler. He says something and you don’t hear hide nor hair of what the hell he just said, you look at him and break into a smile and he chuckles and speaks again.

“I hope you don’t mind Dee got me to pick you up. She had some wedding stuff to do. I wasn’t listening,” he explains, adjusting his sunglasses and putting your bag on his shoulder. He gestures over to his black Lamborghini Urus. 

Once you walk over, he puts your shoulder bag in the back seat. You step closer to him to hand him your rolling luggage. You are mesmerized as his strong forearms flex when he puts everything in the SUV. 

You clear your throat and look around when he looks back at you, catching you watching him. He closes the back door and guides you to the passenger side, opening your door for you.

“Oh, you’re a full-service driver today, huh?” you joke, stepping past him. Your platform espadrilles clacking on the asphalt. Adjusting your strapless sundress, you climb in.

“Whatever service you require, Gumdrop,” he replies with a smile, making sure you are comfortable before closing your door.

That fucking nickname… He would call you gumdrop instead of your name more often than not. That’s all, he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

When you are both buckled in, you start the drive across the island. Comfortable conversation is easy between you two. It’s like you fall back into a safe space with him. You talk about old vacations, funny moments, and what you both are up to these days. Neither of you mentions either of your failed relationships and you can’t keep the smile off of your face.

“Hey, we still have an hour until check-in. You wanna grab a bite or go to the beach or something?” he suggests.

“Are you sure they’re not waiting for us?” you counter, wondering if it’s a good idea to have a little moment with Nick all to yourself.

“I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. No pressure, just a suggestion,” he presses, taking a second to look over at you and smile that smile that has had you in a chokehold most of your life.

After thinking about it for all of five seconds, you agree to have lunch at Plum Pointe Kitchen. You enjoy a generous helping of Drunken Chicken nachos while Nick gets the VooDoo Shrimp PO’Boy. You share half of your meal, and Nick refuses to let you pay for anything.

Making your way to the Ocracoke Harbor Inn after lunch, you finally meet up with everyone. Dee is in mid-conversation with someone when she sees you and Nick pull up into the parking lot. She walks over to you and pulls you into a very tight embrace. It’s like everything was chaos before you got here.

“Oh my goodness, I am so glad you are here. How was the trip? Did you eat? Did Nick bore you? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come and meet you, but we had a little mishap with the reservation for the hotel and then I thought I left my wedding dress at home, and then we–”

You cut off Dee before she can work herself into a frenzy again, “Dee! Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. And is that Matthew? Introduce me already, would you?” you encourage, trying to get your friend’s mind off of the previous debacle and onto the man walking over.

Dee introduces you to Matthew and he charms you with the way he dotes on Dee. He seems like the type to be able to handle her rambling and intense emotions. How he looks at her while she speaks makes you miss having someone look at you like that.

“Well, it’s just about 3 o’clock now. Let’s get checked in and settled, then we can get together later?” Matthew chimes in.

“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, turning to you, “Go ahead and leave your stuff in my car. I’ll take you to your cottage after we are all checked in.” You nod, trying to hide your excitement. 

Once you are done with the receptionist, you get your key and the wifi password to your cottage. While waiting for everyone else to get done, you fiddle on your phone until Nick’s shadow looms over you. Looking up, you are greeted with his eyes no longer shielded by his sunglasses in the dim lobby.

“You ready, Gumdrop? We still have some time before Mom and Dad show up. And I think I remember Dee saying she would call when she was ready to go out,” he concludes, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous about something. But you don’t push.

“All set,” you say, smiling up at him feeling bold enough to wrap your arm around his while you walk out of the lobby.

Dee shouts after you to behave yourselves and tense up a bit while Nick chuckles, seemingly amused by his sister’s thinly veiled comment on two single adults being close. Damn them.

Nick opens the passenger side door for you again, closing it once you are safely inside. He drives to the Margaritaville Cottage where he will stay with his parents during the trip. He instructs you to stay in the car while he just drops his bags off and is back outside in a few minutes.

The next stop is your cottage, called the Treasure Chest. You snicker at the name, thinking it sounded more like a pirate-themed strip joint. When Nick asks what you’re laughing about, you tell him your thoughts on the name of where you are staying. The slow smile that spreads on his face makes you involuntarily clench your thighs, wondering what his days-old stubble would feel like between your legs.

He tilts his head just slightly at you, then turns back to the road, smile still intact. Luckily the drive is short as the cottages are fairly close to one another. Nick parks in the driveway and you both get out and stretch your legs. He comes around and grabs your shoulder bag and luggage, motioning for you to lead the way.

Walking up the steps to the door, you unlock it and are welcomed by the scent of fresh linen. The central air of the cottage is just this side of perfect and you drop your purse on the dining room table. Turning around, you see Nick walking into a room off of the living room.

“Holy shit, you got a King-sized bed,” he shouts from the bedroom.

Walking in, you sit at the foot of the bed next to Nick and start to untie your shoes. He follows suit and turns to you biting his lip, a question at the tip of his tongue.

Facing him, you ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“No. I, uh...I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” he notes. At your confusion, he holds up his left ring finger. A band of untanned skin around the base clues you in that he’s talking about his divorce.

“Nicky, I would never make you talk about it. It can’t be easy in that situation. I mean, I only broke up with Curtis a few months ago and we were only together for six months. I couldn’t imagine how a divorce feels after how long you and Tori were together,” you insist, placing a hand on his knee.

He covers your hand with his and nods. “Mom and Dad are pretty good about it. They don’t ask me how I’m doing with that sad look in their eyes anymore. But Dee? Jesus, when I told her about the incident, she was out for blood. I had to end up calming her down. All because someone broke her big bro’s heart. Love her, but she can get a little carried away,” he finishes.

“This is not to make you feel like you need to share, but you mentioned “the incident” and now I’m curious. Feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But I caught Curtis with his tongue down another woman’s throat. I don’t know for sure how long it had been going on or if they had done anything else together, but I knew at that moment that I was done. I am worth more than that. And so are you, Nicky,” you encourage, feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders after finally talking about your breakup.

“My situation was similar. Tori had been cheating on me for the last two years of our marriage with her boss. I had a feeling something was up, just didn’t want to believe it was something like this,” he reveals, continuing, “But I am moving on, so to speak. I’m not holding out anymore for her to come crawling back to me with a sad story and all that. Even though I hope that she falls in a sinkhole.”

You both laugh and continue talking, taking your minds off of your breakups. You reminisce about all of the times you’ve stayed on the island during vacations. You giggle over dumb stories of you all as teens in high school, hiding weed from your parents and drinking on the beach til it was time to sneak back into the hotel.

You get an idea and you tell Nick to give you a minute before you go back into the living room to retrieve your purse. Coming back into the bedroom, you pull out a vape pen and wiggle it in front of Nick’s face, a devilish smirk on your lips.

“We’ll just take one hit each and we will be fine. Just a bit more mellow,” you offer, pulling him to the balcony off of the living room. You each occupy a wicker chair and you hand over the device.

“Gumdrop, you little devil,” he takes the pen from you and inhales, closing his eyes and holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out. The smoke dissipates quickly and you can see the weight lift off of his shoulders. Handing it back to you, he exhales loudly and leans back in his chair.

Putting the tip in your mouth, you hit the button and inhale. Warm vapor fills you and you release the button, holding in the smoke for a beat and then letting it out toward the sky. You put the pen down on the table between you and fold your legs under you, letting your dress cascade down.

Sitting in companionable silence with Nick feels great. Neither of you feels the need to talk while you listen to the sounds of nature around you. People walking around the cottages, cars driving by, and the distant waves from Pamlico Sound make you wish you had gone to the beach earlier.

“Fuck, that was only one hit and I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you remark, swaying to a song that isn’t playing with your eyes closed.

Nick looks over to you and smiles, “Must be jelly ‘cause jam don’t shake like that.”

You open your eyes and turn to him, your mouth twitches before you break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nick soon follows and you both are taken over by the giggles. You settle down soon enough, still feeling the buzzing calmness of being high.

“The world needs more people like you,” you beam.

“Nah, I like being unique,” he replies, his phone chiming. Picking up a video call from Dee, “Hey Sis.”

“Hey, me and Matt were gonna go for dinner and drinks, you in?” she asks.

“Yeah, that sounds...good,” Nick answers for himself while looking at you to get your answer.

“Ok, well get ready and meet us at Oyster Company. And tell my best friend that she is coming, no ifs, ands, or buts. See you both soon!” With that, she ends the call.

“So...our decision has been made for us. Do you need to change or anything?” Nick wonders, gesturing to your traveling attire.

“If I take this dress off, I am not going out. Besides, I like this dress. I think I look positively adorable. But I will change my shoes to something more comfortable,” you finish before Nick can comment on how he also likes your dress. You pick up the vape pen, make your way back to your luggage, and pull out some flat sandals.

Once you are ready, you make your way back outside and are surprised to see Dee and Matt parked on the street outside of your cottage. “We decided to pick you up. Matt is DD tonight, so we can all get a little loosey-goosey. Plus, I can always tell when Nick is high, so get in losers!”

Nick snorts, and you are mortified to be found out, but you quickly get over it once you are in the backseat of Matt’s Audi Q4. The short ride to the restaurant was spent with Nick’s left leg brushing against your right leg. He was either manspreading or he wanted to touch you and wanted to keep it under the radar.

Either way, you were excited to feel his warmth next to you.

When you make it to the restaurant, you sit at a high table and it almost feels like a double date. Especially when your waitress congratulates Dee and Matt on their wedding while remarking that you and Nick make a cute couple as well. Your face warms up and you suddenly feel like every eye is on you. 

Nick comes to your rescue, answering the waitress with a smile, “My girl’s a bit shy, is all. Can we get a pitcher of beer for the table to start? And also two shots of Crown Royal Vanilla for me and the little lady. Thanks.”

If it was possible, you would have melted through the floor and evaporated, but instead, you just hide behind the menu until Nick pokes his head in.

“That wasn’t to embarrass you, I swear. But I got nervous that she was gonna try and flirt with me, so I dragged you under the proverbial bus with me,” he admits, his lopsided smile only making you want him more.

“Fine. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” you warn, a devious grin appearing on your face. 

You put down your menu just as the waitress comes back with the drinks. Taking both shots, you hand one to Nick. Staring in each other’s eyes, you clink your shot glasses and then tap them on the table before taking the shot. The sweet burn of the liquor warms you from within while Nick’s eyes on you melt whatever nerves you had previously.

A cleared throat breaks your trance, your focus changing from Nick to Dee.

“I talked to Mom and Dad and they won’t get here ‘til Friday afternoon with the rest of the guests. Dad said he had a few things to take care of and not to worry. Of course, I worry tenfold because he told me not to,” Dee interjects, busying herself with pouring beer into her frosted glass.

“Baby, they’ll be here as soon as they can. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,” Matt insists, moving a strand of hair away from Dee’s face before kissing her.

“Promise to keep me occupied?” she requests, a sinful smile on her face.

“I do,” he jokes, clearly proud of himself for making his fiancée blush.

“First of all, how dare you? Secondly, that was almost too cute so watch yourself,” she laughs.

You roll your eyes at the happy couple and smile, going back to looking over the menu. The waitress comes back to the table and takes your orders. Over the meal, you get to know Matt a bit more and you can see how Dee fell in love with him. He’s intelligent, funny, and charismatic. The way he talks about and to her makes you so happy to know your friend found love.

When they turn to talk to each other, you and Nick spark up a conversation about work. He tells you what he can about working for the government, keeping the specific details to himself. You regale him with stories of your time as a freelance writer. You’ve written for dozens of publications, but you just want to get your original works out there for people to enjoy. 

After mentioning a few pieces you wrote for GQ, Nick expressed interest in reading your articles. You try and downplay your skills, but he presses you for the links. Taking out your phone, you realize that you don’t have his number. 

While you exchange digits with Nick, you are too busy to notice Dee casting a sidelong glance and smiling to herself. You ramble on as you send him link after link of some of your favorites. With your face in your phone, you don’t notice the way Nick looks at you with a mix of pride and hunger.

“Well, I am ready to call it a night,” Dee yawns, getting everyone’s attention, “But I could use a nightcap. Who’s up for a trip to the ABC Store? We can make it before they close.”

Everyone agrees and after the check is paid, you all pile into Matt’s SUV for the quick drive to the liquor store. You browse the aisles for a bit by yourself. Filling up your basket with a bottle of wine, some whiskey, and a six-pack of hard seltzers, you surmise that this will sustain you for the week ahead and go in search of the others.

You find Nick in front of the beer cooler, hard at work trying to decide between a 12-pack of Sam Adams’ Cold Snap and Harpoon’s Long Thaw. You suggest he get both and he agrees.

Meeting Dee and Matt up at the front of the store, you stand next to Nick in line and he laughs at the contents of your shopping basket. He puts his beer up for the cashier to scan and has you do the same, paying for your items. 

A little piece of you feels taken care of and you thank him while continuing to tell him he doesn’t have to. He just shushes you and says you can make it up to him later. Before your mind can think about what that might entail, the sale is rung and bagged. Nick picks up the beer and you grab the bag of your things.

Nick asks Matt to just drop him off at your cottage since he left his car there. His cottage is literally next door, but you’re not exactly gonna deny yourself the company. Dee and Matt drive away and you turn back to Nick. You both laugh nervously and you surprise yourself by speaking up.

“So, um. I was gonna have a weed and whiskey moment to myself, but I’d be willing to share if you’re interested,” you hint, watching as he weighs his options. 

“Lead the way, Gumdrop,” he replies.

He follows you in, closing the door behind him. He puts his beer into the fridge along with your hard seltzer. You put the wine on the counter and take out the whiskey while Nick finds two short glasses in the cabinet. Pouring a generous amount in each one, he offers you a drink and you take a sip of the amber liquid. 

Letting the whiskey sit in your mouth, you savor the hints of vanilla and spice. You reach in your purse for your vape pen and take a hit of it before offering it to Nick. Taking a long pull off of the pen, he exhales and you watch as his shoulders relax. You both take another sip of whiskey and revel in the dual flavors of the weed and whiskey.

You take your glass and the bottle, moving onto the patio off of the living room, and sit down in one of the wicker chairs while Nick takes the other. The conversation comes easily enough. Mostly high thoughts and random memories come to mind. After a while, you put on some music and when 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps comes on, you can’t help but dance in your chair.

Nick stares while you close your eyes and move your hands to the trip-hop classic. You spend the entire song moving to the downtempo beat and enjoying your crossfade. The trance you were under slowly dissipates as the song ends and Pendulum by FKA Twigs starts.

When you open your eyes, Nick is pulling you to stand up. You’re lost as to what he is doing until his hands go to yours, pulling them to rest around his neck while he holds your hips. As the song continues, you follow his slow lead and sway to the intimate and mesmerizing indie hit.

🎶

You're younger than I am broken

I dance feelings like they're spoken

So my conversation's not enough

So lonely trying to be yours

Running through sliding doors

So lonely trying to be yours

When you're looking for so much more

🎶

By the time the song ends, the heat between you is unmistakable. Your hand tangles in his hair when he pulls you impossibly closer. Mere centimeters separate your lips. All you would need is to lean just one step closer and you’d finally get to taste his kiss.

Nick beats you to it and his hands pull your face to his, crashing your lips together. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips and he swallows it adding in his own grunts and groans. Kiss after kiss, you radiate carnality and passion. 

Breaking the kiss, you watch as he licks his puffy bottom lip. You take in a breath of air and prepare to dive back in but Nick voices his thoughts.

“You are gonna be the death of me, Gumdrop,” he sighs, and at your brows furrowing he continues, “You’ve only been back in my life for a day and I’m already thinking of ways to keep you in it. Don’t hate me, but I think we should chill out, just for tonight. I swear, if you still want this by tomorrow night, I am all yours. But you better be all mine. Please, tell me you can wait for me?”

“Tomorrow night and you’re all mine?” you plead, and he nods.

“Less than 24 hours, baby. Show me that these feelings aren’t just from the substances in our system,” he insists, and you wanna fuck him even more now after he says that.

You nod and he speaks up, “Need to hear your words, baby, like a big girl.”

“Fuck...yes, I can wait. I can wait for you, Nicky,” you whimper and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, lifting his head from yours, “Now, why don’t we call it a night before I go back on my word? You look so good in this dress and I really wanna be good.”

Agreeing with him, you clean up your empty glasses and move the bottle to the counter next to the wine. Nick pulls you into him one last time, snaking a hand down to your ass and grabbing a hefty portion of it before a hardy slap lands on your left cheek. He only snickers at your yelp and nibbles on your bottom lip. 

“Keep that same energy for me because tomorrow I’m not holding back,” he vows, and if you weren’t leaning into him, your legs would’ve surely buckled. If he notices the tremble go through your body, he makes no mention of it and for that you are grateful.

“Goodnight, Nicky,” you hum.

“Sleep tight, Gumdrop. And do me a favor?” he challenges, at your nod he continues, “Save it for me. I’m gonna take care of you tomorrow, so no need to touch that kitty tonight, right?”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Right.”

He leaves and once the door is closed, you lean back against it, your hand going to your neck where your pulse is playing a sick beat against your skin.

Less than 24 hours, you think. You got this.

That night, you dream of grayish-blue eyes and large hands roaming your body.

January 21st, 2024 – Day Two 

You wake just before 10:30 am and are greeted with a good morning text from Nick. He lets you know that he is taking you out, just the two of you. Since Dee and Matt are enjoying a couple’s spa package, he figures it would only be right to hit some of your favorite places on the island.

You are dressed and out the door by noon. Nick takes you to pick up lunch at Taqueria 504 Suazo’s and you drive out to rent a Jeep Gladiator at for a few hours to drive on the beach. One of the best things about this island is that everything is so close. After 5 minutes, you are at your destination. 

Nick drives out a ways past the other people enjoying the off-season and stops about a minute after the last two fishermen you see. Guess he wanted a secluded spot, you think to yourself. While you get the food, Nick grabs the beach chairs and umbrella that he rented. The ocean breeze is agreeable enough, but you are glad that you brought a thin sweater to keep the chill off.

Once you sit down, you hand over Nick’s food and he digs into his burrito while you munch on your fish tacos. When your meal is finished, Nick puts your leftovers in the Gladiator and lets down the truck bed. He beckons you over and helps you sit on the edge and he climbs up and sits next to you while you both look at the water.

“Ya know, the last time we came out here I was just finishing my third year at Virginia Tech. You and Dee were seniors. I remember hoping upon hope that you would apply to VT and I remember you telling me you were accepting a scholarship from Princeton. I just sucked it up and congratulated you. Even though I was hoping you would understand why I wanted you close, I was so proud of you for venturing off on your own. You were always one to go after what you wanted. I just couldn’t stop wanting to be what you wanted,” he confesses, looking off into the water.

“I wanted you, Nicky. Trust me, I did. But I was so afraid that I had a dumb little crush on someone who would never see me as someone other than his little sister’s best friend. The last time I saw you, I thought it was right to push away the idea of you ever having feelings for me. I also may have been afraid of what Dee would say. She’s kind of protective over both of us, ya know?” you finish.

“That girl can be a vicious little thing when she wants to,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “But don’t you think it’s kind of a sign that she had me pick you up from the ferry? And how suddenly today, we have a free schedule to do whatever we want together? I know my sister, and she’s done this before. She matched me up with my high school girlfriend, Beth.”

“Ugh, Beth with the braces and bangs. I used to call her Triple B behind your back. I hated her so much,” you mutter, trying to push the image of them kissing out of your mind.

“Yeah, well. I knew you hated her, but me being an idiot teenager didn’t exactly know that meant you liked me. I just thought you didn’t like her because she was kind of a bitch. She was plenty nice to me, but she could be...a little scary, at times,” he laughs, surprising himself.

“So...you think Dee would be ok with...this?” you say, gesturing between the two of you.

“I just think there is no way she would let us be alone together if she wasn’t halfway hoping it would work out,” he guesses, “Plus, honestly? We’re adults. We’re allowed to go after what makes us happy.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you pull Nick in for a kiss. You don’t want to jinx it but he makes you happy too. The way he looks at you like you hung the moon, the way he listens to you and asks questions and the way he kisses you? 

It just has to be real.

Packing up your beach equipment, you head back to drop off everything. Getting back into his SUV, you head around the island and view some of the sights. You go shopping and pick up some new knick knacks to take home. Visiting the lighthouse, you take some photos and make sure to bring Dee and Matt here before you leave the island.

Since most of the island’s restaurants are closed on Sundays, you venture to Ocracoke Variety Store and opt for cooking dinner together. After you have all the ingredients you need for a simple fish fry, you head back to your cottage and you and Nick get your hands dirty.

You have him cutting up potatoes for steak fries while you are preparing the batter for the fish. When dinner is ready, you sit at the dining room table with soft music playing in the background. While Nick wanted to take you out for your first date, he could appreciate the quiet setting with just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.

Finishing your meal, Nick takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile and warmth radiates in your cheeks. You hate to admit it, but you wish you had a little liquid courage right now. But the nerves you feel only cement that this is happening.

He pulls you up from your seat, the hunger in his eyes evident from his blown-wide pupils. Leading you into the bedroom, he stops just short of the end of the bed. Standing behind you as you face the bed, he runs his hands down your bare arms and whispers in your ear.

“I cannot wait to take you apart, Gumdrop. But,” he starts, turning you around to face him, “First, I just want to take my time and worship this beautiful body I know you’re hiding from me.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you would have melted into the carpet. But he’s there with firm hands and a gentle grip. Helping you out of your dress, he lays it on the chair in the corner. Coming back, he admires the white lace bra and panty set that accentuates your body shape.

His lips come back to yours, tasting your desire and wantonness with every kiss. Wrapping an arm around you, he guides you to lay back on the bed while maintaining the liplock. He kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while his hand unclasps your bra and removes it from your body.

Laying a kiss between your breasts draws a quick inhale from you. You can tell he’s proud of himself when he looks up at you while he licks one pert nipple, the other between his thumb and forefinger. He sucks on it as if he could siphon gold from your tits. Switching to the other, he gives it the same attention. 

The noises that come from him as he plays with your breasts are enough to make you shiver. He whimpers when you moan and throw your head back. He groans when he kisses down your belly, stopping to look up at you before he plants a quick kiss upon your covered mound.

He pulls down your panties at such an agonizing speed. Nick has to squeeze his dick through his pants when a string of your wetness stretches from your pussy to your underwear. Spreading your legs apart, he feasts on the view of your lips opening like a flower before him.

He wanted to go slow, he really did. But once he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your swollen nub, he is mesmerized by the taste of you. He goes back and forth between sucking on your button and lapping up whatever nectar drips from you. You can feel yourself inching toward the finish line, and he is right there to talk you through it.

“Fuck...you taste like Heaven...that’s right, baby...let go and cum for me like a good girl,” he commands between licks and kisses.

You’re nothing if not a good listener and seconds later, your walls are clamping around his fingers. You’ve never cum like this before and it washes over you like a warm waterfall. He removes his fingers from your wet opening and sucks them clean before moving up the bed to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue, you are beyond turned on. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he sits up to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, you pull at the button of his pants.

“Use your words,” he urges, his hands stopping yours from moving further.

“Need to feel you, Nick. Please fuck me,” you beg, all thoughts gone from your head.

“There’s my good girl,” he replies, standing up from the bed to undress fully. Climbing back on the bed, he kneels between your legs. He strokes himself slowly, eight inches of uncut cock staring you in the face. He squeezes the base and you can tell he is just as excited as you are.

You crook a finger at him and once again, he is on top of you. With nothing between you, you’re impossibly close and you only want to get closer. Your hand soon finds his erection and he hisses at the contact, groaning when you stroke him.

He leans on one forearm while his other hand guides his tip between your lips, gathering some of your slick before entering you. You both groan loudly once he is fully settled inside you. 

“You good, baby?” he asks, anxious to start moving his hips.

“God, yes. Fuck me, Nicky,” you plead, feeling so full when you arch your back.

Foregoing words, Nick retracts his hips and thrusts into you. The wet squelch as he fucks you is music to your ears, just like the way he tells you how beautiful you are in between kisses. He uses your breasts as handholds while he pummels your snatch.

The way he looks into your eyes while he plunges inside you excites you so much that you don’t even notice when a tear escapes your eye. He kisses it away, trailing his lips to your neck where he sucks at your pulse point. At this point, you couldn't care less about a hickey. You just want to be his.

Your next orgasm surprises you and you squeeze his cock from the inside, coating him in your cream. 

“Good girl, coming all over my fucking dick. Feels so fucking good when you tighten around me like that. You are taking me so well, Gumdrop. Yes. You. Are,” he grunts, punctuating the last three words with deep thrusts inside you.

Flipping you over so you are on top, Nick grabs your hips and you start to ride him. You bounce on his cock like it’s the last time you get to fuck. By the mewls coming from him, you are doing it just right.

You feel another climax on its way, slowly building up in your core. Nick swats your hand away when you go to rub your clit. He licks his thumb and massages your neglected pearl until you are unable to hold it in any longer. The dual stimulation is too much and you gush, soaking Nick’s abdomen and your thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby. Such a good fucking girl for me. You must want my cum inside you with the way you’re...riding my dick. Shit, baby, I’m gonna blow. Where do you want it, baby?” he asks, you reply by doubling down on your hip motions.

“Right there, Nicky. Cum inside me, please,” you implore breathlessly.

“Yes, baby. Gonna cum for you, gonna fill you up so good. Ugh, fuck, here it comes,” he whimpers, his hold on your hips so tight to keep you close to him. 

You feel every twitch of his cock, his muscles pulling taut across his arms and chest as he floods your canal. Your name on his lips as he comes down is a badge of honor. Yes, you did that shit.

He pulls you down to kiss him, shallow thrusts keeping him semi-hard before he pulls out. He lays you down next to him, cuddling you close and kissing your forehead. You start to fall asleep but you can feel Nick moving off the bed. Your hand shoots out to grab for him, but he shushes you.

He goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running before he comes out with a wet washcloth. Wiping down your sensitive folds, he takes care of you so well. Putting the washcloth back in the bathroom, he comes back and helps you get under the covers and he snuggles in with you.

With your arms and legs entangled in one another, you drift off peacefully.

January 22nd – January 26th 2024 

The days before the wedding are spent enjoying the island with Nick, Dee, and Matt before the other guests arrive. More than once, Dee has cornered both you and Nick, asking embarrassing questions. You both say nothing, feigning ignorance even though Nick has moved into your cottage over the week, abandoning the cottage that he was supposed to share with his parents.

That being said, once his parents do finally make it to the island, he doesn’t even try and act like he isn’t staying with you. The smile on his father’s face says it all, he approves. His mother is far too preoccupied with getting everyone together for the wedding rehearsal to notice anything. 

That is until she catches you and Nick making heart eyes at each other as you stand in for the Bride and Groom in rehearsal. Yes, it was a bit too soon to be playing Wedding Day with a man whose divorce is less than 100 days old.

But when you know, you know.

At dinner, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you don’t notice Nick following after you. Before you can enter the ladies’ room, a hand on your arm pulls you into the nearby gender-neutral bathroom.

You turn around and are met with hungry eyes before he descends upon you. Turning you around to face the mirror, he puts your hands on the sink and sinks to his knees, his hands roaming under your dress and up your legs until he pulls down your panties. He pulls out his already hard dick and pumps himself a few times before sliding inside you.

“Don’t fucking move, baby. Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, and your hands stay right where they are. You thought you could get away with teasing me in this tight fucking dress,” he breathes, “I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you til you’re dripping for me like the good girl I know you can be.”

When he places his hands on your hips, he begins a steady pace. He watches you in the mirror as your orgasm takes you over without warning. You squeeze him, your walls fluttering and coaxing him to follow you when you cover him in your juices.

But he surprises you when he pulls out and pulls your panties back up. When you turn around to ask why, he only kisses you and whispers in your ear, “I’ll get mine later, don’t you worry.” That only fills you with a little dread, your legs still wobbly as Nick tucks himself away and straightens his outfit. “Can’t have them knowing I just got my dick wet, right baby? See you back out there.” 

He exits the bathroom and leaves you with slick running down your legs and your brain falling out of your ears. And he’s worried about you being the death of him?

You straighten yourself and use the bathroom for its intended purpose. Once back in the banquet hall, you pray to any god who will listen that you don’t look like you just got some dick. You see Nick and Matt in a conversation like he’d been here the whole time. When Dee asks why you look flustered, you lie and say you’re just a bit tired.

Nick overhears you talking to Dee and interjects himself into the conversation, “Why don’t we go get some fresh air? Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of her.” Helping you out of your chair, you both say goodnight to those at dinner.

Nick takes you back to the cottage, pulling you behind him as he walks out onto the balcony. Crashing his lips to yours, his hands scrunch up the fabric of your dress until you feel the night air chill your skin. 

“Hands on the railing, baby,” he says, peeling your soaked panties from you.

Nick’s pushing inside you in the next breath and it’s like he belonged there all along. Holding onto your hips, he begins his onslaught. All you can do is hold yourself up and be happy that no one is walking down this road because fuck they would be able to see you getting absolutely railed without abandon.

Your grip on the railing is faltering as he slams into you and he takes pity on you. He uses the grip on your hips to pull you back so you sit on his lap while he sits in the wicker chair. He moves you up and down on his dick while saying the filthiest things to you.

Once your climax hits, his pace falters and he thrusts up into you. His tip hits your cervix as he pumps you full. He holds you against him and kisses up your neck as you lay back on his chest. For a few moments, all you both can do is breathe and caress each other.

His dick slips free of you and you feel his load dripping from your thoroughly used hole. 

“Come with me back to Virginia,” he whispers, surprising both of you, “Don’t say no just yet. Think about it. We don’t leave for a couple of days. I have not been this happy in a very long while and I think I make you happy too. Just think about it, Gumdrop.”

A million things go through your head at the thought of giving up your life in New Jersey. This was a big step after only a week of playing house. Your brain comes up with so many what-ifs and reasons to not leap. But then one thought sticks, and you smile.

When you know, you know.

January 27th, 2024 – Wedding Day

You were never a big crier, but you shed many tears watching your childhood best friend marry the love of her life. It fills you with hope that everything does happen for a reason. While listening to their vows, you wonder if you could ever make that type of commitment. At that moment, Nick squeezes your hand and you smile up at him. Like he could read your mind, he seems to always know what to do to give you comfort.

Then again, he has known you most of his life. And when you think about it, it has always been him. A distant memory replays in your head of him simply putting a band-aid on your skinned knee when you were nine and he was twelve. Even then, he was there for you with a smile and a friendly hug.

The wedding reception is an all-out party but you expect nothing less from the Fowlers. The music, the food, and the atmosphere are perfect. Dee enjoys herself and is just happy to be married to Matt. And you are so happy for her, to see her without a care in the world. 

Nick focuses on you the entire night, making sure you are comfortable and that you have everything you need. You sit in his lap, effectively confirming any rumors that may have spread about you two. His hand on your knee is warm and you want to sneak out of here and take him to the nearest closet. But he doesn’t let you move an inch once he has you in his clutches.

The wedding photographer snaps a pic of you squealing when Nick plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The guests around you simultaneously swoon and groan, depending on their relationship status. Not that you care, you had your man. That’s all that matters.

After the wedding, you and Nick sneak off to a secluded area of the beach to look up at the stars. Taking off your shoes, you don’t mind the sand between your toes. You spend most of the night on the beach, just enjoying each other’s company under the moon. 

You are lucky enough to see a few shooting stars, and you can’t stop yourself from making a wish or two. Wondering if Nick made a wish, you open your mouth to ask him but close it just as quickly. You know his wish already and only you could make it come true.

Coming back to the cottage is bittersweet. The last night of your vacation is spent lying naked with Nick. No sex, just intimate cuddling. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, and you couldn’t deny yourself this feeling.

January 28th, 2024

You’re nervous all morning and Nick tries his best to keep your mind off leaving the island. But all you want to do is spend all day in bed with him.

Saying goodbye to Dee that day is full of teary-eyed hand-holding, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You hug her mother and father and thank them for inviting you. 

Nick drives you to the ferry, thinking for all the world that this is the last time he will see you. But like you continue to do, you surprise him when he’s helping you with your bags.

“So, I have some things to clear up in Jersey, but I was thinking Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away. You can come to my place and we can spend some time together. I may not be ready to move 7 hours away just yet. But I know that I am not ready to be without you. I want you to know that I want this, whatever this is,” you admit, gesturing between the two of you.

“I can be amenable to that. On one condition,” he offers, taking your hands in his.

“And what is that one condition, Nicky?” you press, wondering what else he could want or if your terms weren’t enough.

“When we are with each other again, I get to call you my girl. That’s it. Be mine, and all that?” he laughs, watching as the frown lines on your forehead disappear and a smile grows on your face.

“You had me for a second, Nicky. But, why wait? I’m all yours already. Plus, I’ve already planted my flag in your back pocket,” you tease, snaking your hand around to goose him.

“So that would make me your man, then? And you’re my girl. Makes me wanna ask what made you decide to try this with me?” he hesitates, half wanting an answer and the other half just happy that you said yes.

“Hey, like I always say,” you start, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When you know, you know.”

END…?

A/N: All of the places in this story are real, this is not an advertisement for Ocracoke Island, NC btw. I just loved vacationing here so much, that I wanted to use it in a story lol.

**Tag List** (since I never wrote for Nick, I didn't know who else to tag)

@gummydummy19 @blackwood4stucky

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

My BINGO Card:

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

i did it for winx i did it for powerpuff girls anyway here’s my pitch for a good “modern” scooby doo remake

shaggy comes from a family of paranormal investigators. at barely 16 years olds he returns to his hometown of coolsville with his dog after his super rich parents tell him it’s time to live up to the family name, taking him there specifically because of many rumors about cursed areas of the town and crmiinals who take advantage of said rumors to pretend to be monsters themselves. while there he reconnects with his old childhood friends and eventually all together they form the mystery inc... and have to deal with a benevolent yet very clumsy spirit who took over scoob’s body

character thoughts under read more!!!

shaggy is, again, the last of a family of paranormal investigators, who ever since he was a child had to deal with his parents bringing him in adventures and dealing with (real and fake) monsters. you’d guess that would make him brave, but. no that just made him very paranoid. while he acts like the team’s straightman, he’s also the only one who knows how certain monsters work, ironically working as one of the “brains” of the group!

scooby, again, used to be a normal great dane. a little lazy, not even particularly friendly, at least until shaggy brought him with him in coolsville; during their first night out. while he ends up falling into a trap, a benevolent ghost takes over his body, making him able to talk and tell the kids that coolsville is in big trouble and that they need to stick together. overall, he’s the team’s mascot, someone who’s directly connected with the main antagonist similarly to the mystery inc series, but also a goofy spirit (and now dog) who’s appreciating life!!

velma is a seemingly distant and cold nerd, but also the first one who joins shaggy in his adventures after she learns that all the curses and mysteries of her town might be real. her knowledge and ability to think on the fly comes from her being a dnd player and, most importantly, a dungeon master, and out of everyone she’s by far the bravest member of the team.  while a little snarky and with a lot of problems with social cues, she’s a smart and quick thinking young lady who’s happy to be part of a real adventure. and also has a girlfriend who may or may not be yet another monster since her being into criminals and monstergirls is a recurring trend now

daphne is part of the popular girls in school, but since we hate stereotypes she also has a reason to be popular other than “she’s pretty XD”. tiktok influencer and vlogger, she joins shaggy and velma almost by accident uhhhh i’d say 3 or 4 episodes into the series, maybe trying to start off a paranormal youtube channel, and eventually gets very close to them. the assigned people person, she knows everything about everyone in town and is generally very charismatic, but make her angry and she’ll make sure that you will remember with who you’re messing with.

fred, daphne’s boyfriend, is a member of the football’s team and the mayor’s son... and for “half” of the first season, he unknowingly acts as a minor antagonist, since i’d say. down with the politicians, the mayor is one of the bad guys, and with fred being a total himbo he accidentally works as his spy. eventually he finally understands that something is up with his dad, especially thanks to daphne who reminds him who truly cares for him, and eventually shaggy and velma too, with who he shares good memories of pretending to be detectives together and watching “that one weird show with the talking dogs and the kids looking for ghosts... goober or something!” he finally becomes the team’s wild card, the brawn and. yea i’d bring back his love for traps and elaborate schemes. he and velma become super besties after she tells him about her latest dungeon in her session

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

What was up with Chris Thorndyke, anyway?

I think it’s safe to say that Chris Thorndyke is one of the most hated characters in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, which is... a bit odd, when you think about it. In a world of Ken Penders’s Daddy Issues Personified and Octopus Who Kills Children For Fun (the latter of which basically being a fandom sexyman), why is a twelve-year-old boy so polarizing?

It would be easy to chalk this up to the bad 4kidz dub, but I don’t quite think that’s it. A lot of the complaints I’ve heard can go to “he got the main character slot in Sonic’s show” or “I just don’t like the human characters,” which are valid, but pale in comparison to basically all I’ve seen being: “He’s just annoying,” “I can’t fucking stand him,” etc. That’s basically all I hear, and when asking why, it usually boils down to two things: 1) his extreme attachment to Sonic and 2) his status as a rich white american only child basically puts any and all of his problems at “first world problems” at best. Those also seem like valid reasons, right?

Thing is, while on the surface it seems like this kid has no issues, as a kid with a, how you say, rough childhood, something stuck with me when I watched the show for the first time. I remember sitting through episode after episode, wondering, When does Chris stop being sympathetic and start being annoying? Since, you know, that’s his reputation.

It didn’t happen.

And it slowly became apparent to me that a lot of the things that made Chris “annoying” and “obsessive”... were just obvious symptoms of a traumatized kid.

Join me for my thesis presentation: Chris’s “annoying” traits are not a writing flaw, but an intentional character flaw brought about by severe neglect, which is resolved through his character arc, and why the fandom reaction to him is so furious.

Note: Throughout this meta, we will only be looking over the Japanese version of Sonic X, as it’s the original script and 4kidz did not translate it accurately. So if you see some lines you don’t remember being said, those are from the English subtitles/direct translation.

Once again, it is possible (also likely, we’ll discuss that a bit) that the kidification and cuts to Sonic X did a number on Chris’s likability, but for most of the meta we’ll be discussing his Japanese characterization with only a few references to cut scenes or lines in the dub.

Part I: First Impressions

On the surface, Chris seems like not just a normal kid, but a very privileged one. He goes to regular school with regular friends, but also goes home to a mansion and millions of dollars. His parents dote on him, his grandfather has fun with him, the two servants treat him like their own kid. He should have no problems, right?

Except, honestly, the issues become apparent in Episode One.

You may be saying here, “What do you mean, episode one? The second episode is when Chris gets all his characterization and exposition.”

Except we get all this visually in the final scene of the episode. (I PROMISE the whole essay won’t be this analytic over small scenes but this is important.)

Before Chris rescues Sonic, kickstarting his part in the plot, we see him hear Sonic fall, peer out the window, and then run out to get him.

Firstly, the shots of his room. His room is huge– and we’ll come back to that detail later, so keep it in mind– but it’s also dark. Which tracks ofc, it’s nighttime and the kid’s asleep, but there’s also a lit desk light, which we see when Chris goes to the window. This together gives the audience the visual impression that Chris is in the dark, with the light only coming when he opens that window and sees Sonic.

Let’s get into the bigness of the house here, as Chris runs out of the room. In every shot we see him running, it’s emphasized how small he is. No, not only how small he is, but how empty the rest of the house is.

First the shot in the hall. There’s minimal lighting from a few wall lamps, the rest of the hallway is incredibly dark. Chris is shorter than the height of the lamps on the wall, his positioning keeps him small in the frame despite him running closer. He’s also centered in the hall, and when you look to the walls you can see several doors, implying several rooms, but only Chris is in the hall.

Then the stairwell– once again incredibly dark, but we see more of the grandiose nature of the house. A painting taller than Chris, a Grandfather Clock maybe twice his height. He also runs down the stairs with the railing up to his shoulder. It’s all finely detailed, which of course reflects the Thorndyke luxury they live in. But it’s still dark, and Chris is still so small.

A shot of him running across the floor. It’s shot from above, and we see that the tiles on the floor are bigger than his whole body. This shot is even darker than the rest, only a few lights reflecting on the ground. The above-shot also shows a ceiling fan in front of us, which makes it look bigger than it is, also dwarfing Chris in the shot.

There’s a shot after that of Chris running to the pool– it is actually near-impossible to see him here, but if you look he runs off the back porch. Once again the world is huge, everything around him is huge, and everything is dark, except the pools. The pools where Sonic is, not that he knows that yet.

The pool still remains brightly lit as Chris dives in and saves Sonic. The first shot we see is him diving in, and then grabbing onto Sonic’s wrist. This is repeated multiple times later in the show as they reach for each other’s hands. It’s not only the first time we see this kid make contact with someone in the show, I’m pretty sure it���s the first time we see Sonic. In the first bit of the episode he’s only hitting robots, in the second bit he’s fleeing from everyone who comes near him. This first contact thus subconsciously establishes itself in the audience’s minds as important for both of them.

We finally see Chris clearly after he pulls Sonic out, where the two of them are lit by the pool’s light. Despite the long shadows coming off of them, they are both fully visible and sitting amongst the lit tiles, meaning Chris is now in the light.

This opening scene also establishes something important about Chris as well, and that’s that he’s... not a rich asshole. This kid woke up in the middle of the night, and for all intents and purposes saw nothing in the pool– he saw the ripples stilling, but that could’ve been anything. Could’ve been a frog. Could’ve been a bird taking off into the air. Could’ve been a bird shitting. But Chris still investigates anyway and immediately dives in, presumably once he sees something still in there. As he dives in, he also reaches for Sonic instantly, meaning it wasn’t just pure curiosity that drove him forward, but a deep desire to help whatever was in there. Likely he saw it moving and leapt in to save it without a second thought.

It’s established in the next episode that Chris knew full well he was not allowed to do this and it probably wouldn’t be safe; he’s not allowed to go outside at night or swim in the adult pool. Not to mention he’s also probably still half-asleep and wearing pajamas. Without hesitation he jumps in anyway because there’s something that needs his help. When he pulls Sonic out, he can clearly see this is a weird fucked-up thing he doesn’t recognize, but without even reacting to that fact he just asks if he’s okay. He only starts showing his surprise when Sonic begins talking. Even then there’s no screaming, he just introduces himself politely and then. Takes Sonic inside.

The next episode opens already in the next morning, and with Sonic still there we can assume Chris just hid him for the rest of the night without telling the other adults in the house. After Sonic mentioned people chasing him, Chris probably figured it wasn’t safe to tell anyone and took it upon his 12yo self to make sure this little guy didn’t get spotted.

Which, if it weren’t for Sonic’s impulsiveness, would’ve been incredibly easy.

The second episode opens with another panning shot of the huge mansion, with a voice overlay from Lindsey. The first thing we hear from Chris’s mother is that she’s sorry, but she won’t come home til “next week.” But she’ll send him a ton of gifts, so it’s okay!

Our next interesting shot is as she continues talking, and we see a ton of family photos tacked onto the wall. This immediately gives the impression of, of course, a family that really loves each other. It then immediately pans to Chris, alone on the balcony, talking minimally into a phone.

Chris then has another character beat of apologizing for diving in the pool. It seems like if he hadn’t mentioned it, nobody would’ve known, but he does anyway because he’s just like. A good little kid. Either that or it’s anything to keep his mom on the line longer.

Another thing to note is that Tanaka briefly enters during this scene, but doesn’t even look at Chris as he drops his food off and leaves.

When she hangs up, we hear a little kissing noise, and then Chris kisses the phone receiver and rubs the back of his head. His expression doesn’t seem embarrassed, though, especially as he didn’t notice Sonic staring at him until the next shot. He looks perhaps relieved, a soft kind of happy, perhaps at the compliment she gave him immediately before her abrupt goodbye.

Sonic then asks why Chris referred to him as a cat; he doesn’t seem upset, just a little curious. Chris’s reaction is interesting here– the first thing he does is ask if Sonic is mad at him, and then immediately launch into an explanation.

After Sonic seems calm, Chris then curiously asks Sonic where he learned to talk. They’re interrupted by the phone ringing, and Chris seems incredibly confused that it rung. He answers almost robotically, and immediately grows excited upon hearing it’s his dad, though his voice still indicates surprise. You can really hear it in the line delivery of his og actress, Sanae Kobayashi.

Chris continues smiling blankly as his Dad talks about how his mom told him that a cat got into the estate and maybe he should update security. Chris swiftly assures him that it’s okay, and then says, “But more importantly, you’re very busy, aren’t you?”

Basically he already knows that this conversation will be less than a minute long, but he’s still smiling until his dad’s already hung up.

The rest of the scene plays out as Chris googles what hedgehogs eat, tries to feed Sonic cat food, and then rightfully freaks out when Sonic leaves to get a chili dog, considering he’s a fugitive. And while his face and mannerisms at the end of the scene does effectively display this worry, they really do hold on that shot for a while as he fades back into a sadder expression.

These scenes both serve as introductory scenes to Chris, and both visually and through dialogue, we have established:

Chris is constantly alone.

His world is dark until he finds Sonic.

He has a kind personality and doesn’t seem to be at all jaded or spoiled by his privileged upbringing.

His parents love him but are so absent that he doesn’t even bat an eye at the fact he won’t see his mom for a week. He is surprised when his Dad calls but immediately puts his work before his own well being.

He’s relatively calm, but only freaks out when he thinks Sonic might be mad at him, and when Sonic leaves.

I’d love to do a fucking scene-for-scene analysis of the entire show, but we’d be here for like twenty years so instead let’s uh. jump ahead a bit.

We slowly unravel Chris’s backstory and mental state throughout the first two seasons, in a slow way that I think is very effective and won’t be effective enough through this essay, but I’m gonna try my best.

Anyway, let’s jump ahead and cover his whole... thing.

Part II: The Backstory Scene that 4kidz Cut

The youngest we ever see Chris is in the season two penultimate episode. There’s a flashback to him as what seems to be a toddler, or just out of toddlerhood. This scene, right here, was cut in the English dub for... no real reason I can think of. In fact, it just makes Chris look less sympathetic.

The first shot we get is of Chris and his parents. Much like the Chris’s first scene, he is tiny, even tinier. But unlike that scene, everything is bright. It’s blinding, actually, as the doors are open and Chris’s parents stand in front of it. This is obviously from baby Chris’s perspective, representing his emotional state. With those doors open and his parents in front of him, he is covered in light. Covered.

His parents are quite formal in their parting words. “We’re leaving now,” his dad says. His mom then says, “I’m sorry, Chris. Make sure you behave until we return.”

Once again, I mentioned that this scene is from baby Chris’s perspective, so maybe they weren’t as formal when this actually happened. But that’s how it came across to Chris.

Sidenote, but honestly? Considering his age, this could very well be one of his earliest memories.

Little Chris says, “If I behave, will you come home right away?” While of course operating on little kid logic, this also reflects on how much he loves his family again, as all he wants is for his parents to be home with him.

His parents look at each other, confused on how to answer. They then give the worst answer– “Of course.” We see how happy this makes him, but it’s only a temporary happiness. They’ve just made a promise they cannot keep and they know it, and at baby Chris’s age, he will NOT understand that.

When they turn to leave, Chris’s face falls. They once again have a formal goodbye, and as they leave, the doors shut, and the light is gone, and he stands there for again a long time. I don’t think I need to explain what this symbolizes.

The next shot, we see Chris is reading a picture book by himself on the couch. Once again a small little guy in a big world; the book also seems to be The Little Matchgirl, which... oof. The story is about how a lonely orphan dreams about having a family as she slowly freezes to death, in case you weren’t aware. The two shots we see from the book are first of her freezing, and then of her looking in a window and imagining a family. As Chris reads this, he repeats that if he behaves, his parents will come home.

He then hears the door about to open and immediately leaps up and smiles widely.

It’s not his parents, it’s Ella, but she has presents from his parents!

Despite being a little kid who would normally be ecstatic at the prospect of new toys, Chris just looks numb as she speaks.

He takes no joy in the toy either, because his parents aren’t there with it.

So. I have worked at a daycare and as a babysitter for about... seven years now. Kids? They have separation anxiety. They will sob and scream and shout and kick and run if their mom is out of their sight. I recently babysat a kid who learned how to unlock the door so he could try and run after his parents which was terrifying for me tbh.

Chris’s reaction of just immediately falling into a numb depression isn’t something I saw in the kids I watched. At this age, they cry at the very least. Chris doesn’t even do that, he’s just staring. We get one voiceover at the end of this scene, as Chris just says, “It never came true.” Obviously referring to the promise– he behaved, and his parents still stayed away.

What impression does this give a kid that age? One of two things, if not both at once:

I am not behaving enough and I need to behave perfectly.

Mom and Dad don’t care enough to come home.

From knowing Lindsey and Nelson, we know this is not true. They’re busy, and they hope to show their love through gifts. But Chris’s love language is very much not gifts, it’s quality time. And he doesn’t. Get that.

From anyone.

Part III: Chris’s Abandonment Issues

As I’ve made it clear, Chris’s parents are never around. He doesn’t bat an eye at his mother saying she’ll be gone another week, and is surprised that his Dad even bothered to call. We saw all those family photos, but looking at them again, how many of them were taken at the same time, one of the few times his parents were home? How many is Chris standing stiffly, properly, instead of relaxing like a kid?

Another line from episode six really drives his home, one I think a lot of people miss.

Upon being told his parents are coming home, Chris remarks that it has been months since he’s seen them. Months.

Later in the episode, Chuck remarks on how it’s a miracle to see them both at the house at the same time. They laugh this off, and spend the rest of the episode anxiously waiting for Chris to get home because, yeah, they do care. When Chris gets home he immediately calls for them and gets tackle-hugged. As they do, he stiffens upon the physical contact, and looks awkward the whole time, like he’s not used to physical affection.

He’s then later surprised to hear his parents were worried he was late.

The next episode, Chris’s dad has already left by the next morning. When he hears his mom has unexpectedly left, he is upset, but not surprised; he immediately resigns himself to this and sighs before leaning back on the couch.

When he brings this up to his uncle, Sam immediately remarks that his sister is never home.

This is where Cream breaks, because she has seen Lindsey herself break down over not being there for Chris. Chris has not seen that. All he knows is that his mother was there and then was gone, despite their elaborate dinner plan, despite knowing he was bringing a guest to meet her.

Once again, he’s not surprised. Neither is Sam.

Similar with his Dad; in the previous episode, when they were worried, Nelson implies that he has a guard service making sure Chris doesn’t get abducted. They’re two seconds away from calling the US Military to find him. But they stop short of going after him, because they don’t want him to think they’re being overbearing.

We’ve firmly established this by now, okay? His parents are never home and haven’t been since he was, what? Three? Four, tops.

Nobody else was really there, either.

Ella and Tanaka seem to have done most of Chris’s raising. And while Ella and Tanaka are amazing, and definitely care a lot about Chris, it doesn’t change the fact that they are paid employees and Chris knows this. They’re paid to hang out with him. If they weren’t getting paid, Chris has no idea if they would even give a shit about him. Even with that, there’s not a ton of evidence they like. hung out with him outside of making sure he was alright. As mentioned, in the second episode Tanaka doesn’t even look at him as he delivers food. Not for lack of care, but probably because they’re busy as only two servants in a huge estate. This isn’t their kid, too, they’re under no obligation to raise him. Ella is the cook and Tanaka is the butler-bodyguard, they’re not childcare experts.

What about his grandpa? Sorry to break this to you but Chuck wasn’t around, either.

In episode 51, which we’re gonna keep coming back to as it’s the culmination of Chris’s arc, Chuck says this while reprimanding Nelson and Lindsey. He says, “I never blamed you for neglecting your household because you were too busy with work. That’s because I also did whatever I wanted and continued my research.”

Back to the second episode, when we first see Chuck, you notice on the second watch that Chris 1) doesn’t trust his grandpa enough to tell him that he’s hiding a fugitive in their house, 2) didn’t seem to expect him (or ANYONE) to walk in on them in the LIVING ROOM, 3) seems to not know a ton about his personality. He’s surprised when his grandpa closes the door on Sonic, and surprised that he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie. It seems that instead of spending time with his grandson, Chuck spent most of his time in his shed tinkering with machines.

His uncle? Seems to visit on occasion, but has a government job. You know he’s never around, either.

So Chris is growing up in a huge house, which is serving to give him a constant reminder that nobody’s home. There are two servants going around working and sometimes saying hi to him, there’s a grandpa in the shed somewhere who might come in once or twice to watch TV, and there’s photos on the wall of parents who aren’t home. He’s like that for at least eight years.

OH, and let’s talk about the friends argument which I’ve confusingly seen. He’s got two friends at school. His parents seem to recognize Danny’s name, so Danny might have been a longtime friend, or at least friend he talked about before. But Danny and Frances, being barely in any episodes, we can assume they also have their own lives and things going on and thus don’t, like, hang out with Chris after school a lot. He uses Danny as an excuse for being late in ep6, but the fact that nobody seemed to expect him to be late implies this is not a usual thing. And of course it is ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY not on the shoulders of these other 12yos to emotionally support another kid, but it’s not like they’re immediately moving into his house and giving him attention 24/7. They’re friends. Which is all they need to be. But for a neglected child like Chris, they’re just another part of his life that comes and goes. Him having two buddies at school that he shares a table with (thus probably just. friends by proximity) doesn’t negate the neglect.

Looking at the photos on the wall again, there’s one photo of Chris with some kind of sports team, probably baseball. Considering how bad Chris played in the baseball episode, he probably didn’t stay there long, and considering we never see anyone even resembling the kids in that pic, we can assume they didn’t stay long-lasting friends. The other photos, they’re dressed in suits, like they’re taking professional photos. Once again stilted, stiff.

But I hear y’all on twitter now. “Oh, boo-hoo, his parents weren’t around. He was still living fancy, it’s fine.”

So let’s talk about the effects of emotional neglect on the childhood psyche.

Part IV: Connie Read Actual Research Papers and Scholarly Articles For This Instead of Doing Actual Work

So, here’s something that’s been seen recurrently in neglected children: kids are psychologically dependent on parents or caregivers throughout their whole childhood and adolescence.

From New Directions in Child Abuse and Neglect Research by the Committee on Child Maltreatment Research, “Children who have experienced abuse and neglect are therefor at increased risk for a number of problematic developmental, health, and mental health outcomes, including learning problems, problems relating to peers, externalizing symptoms [aggression or conduct disorder], and posttraumatic stress disorder. As adults, these children continue to show increased risk for psychiatric disorders, substance use, serious medical illnesses, and lower economic productivity.”

Let’s talk mainly about the mental health outcomes. Without a present caregiver, neglected children often fall behind on the abilities to regulate behavior or emotions. Several parts of the brain will end up altered due to early childhood neglect, including the stress response system, the emotion processing and regulation system, the learning and memory system, etc.

The stress response system is the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenocortial axis, aka the HPA. The HPA is incredibly sensitive to early childhood experiences and an uncertain childhood can effect a lot of things, such as sleep patterns and hyperactivity. Abused children will often have higher spikes of cortisol, a high enough number of which can cause damage to the brain and premature aging.

The behavioral regulation is also most commonly affected in these victims; neglected children will often show “behavioral and emotional difficulties that are consistent with effects on the amygdala, such as internalizing problems, heightened anxiety, and emotional reactivity, and deficits in emotional processing.”

Other mental health issues are also seen; children with trauma experiences will show similar mental patterns as those with ADHD, and can have serious issues with inhibitory control– aka, controlling your impulses.

Then there’s the corpus callosum. (Insert SnapCube dub joke here.) The corpus callosum manages communication between the two hemispheres of the brain. Several studies have found that abused children have a much smaller corpus callosum than non-abused children, even those who are mentally ill; these effects are also more pronounced in boys than girls, which is relevant to our analysis of a 12yo anime boy from 2003. This means that their brain development will often be behind that of their peers, and it could take a while for them to mature.

That was long and boring Connie. Give us the tldr.

Okay don’t worry, the article got to that right about now. Children dealing with neglect will show several issues related to the interrupted development of these parts of their brain, including:

Extreme Deficits in Executive Functioning

Difficulty in regulating attention: As a note on this, 18.6% of abused and neglected teens are diagnosed with ADHD. Compared to 5% of other children. That’s like three times the amount!

And, most interestingly, the behavioral outcomes:

Difficulty forming trusting attachments to caregivers

Both Disorganized and Insecure Attachment Issues, usually getting severe Attachment Disorders

Reactive Attachment Disorder: Inhibited or emotionally withdrawn behavior, rarely seeking or responding to comfort

Disinhibited Social Engagement Disorder: Basically the opposite; it’s marked by a pattern of overly familiar behavior with strangers.

Emotion Regulation: infants learn how to deal with distress via their parents– how their caregivers handle stress, how they take care of problems and slowly introduce the ability to deal with them. Without that, abused and neglected children will often fail to develop effective strategies for regulating emotions. This will probably cause a lot of the following.

This also includes recognizing emotions in others. While abused children will identify anger quickly, neglected children tend to be worse than non-neglected children at identifying any facial expressions.

Their emotional issues can also cause them to feel isolated from their peers, as their peers do not understand them and do not act like them.

Anxiety

Depression– nearly a 3x chance compared to non-neglected kids

Dissociation

Conduct Disorder

PTSD

Physical issues include stunted growth and motor development, and lower health.

Note that these do not appear in all victims of neglect, these are just common symptoms.

Part V: Every “Annoying” Thing Chris Does is a Fucking Symptom

Difficulty forming attachments to Caregivers

In episode 43, Chris deals with a situation that’s obviously alien to him: his parents coming home to care about him.

His parents hear that he’s sick and drop everything to come home. This is clearly something that’s unusual, judging from both Chris’s and his grandpa’s reactions to it. Chris is confused and embarrassed, kinda numb and still, until his grandfather and father start arguing. Even then, he only reacts when they bring up Sonic.

He then yells that he hates his family and orders them to leave him alone. This doesn’t last long as they’re immediately attacked by more badniks, but it’s a beat they definitely put in there intentionally.

Also, he doesn’t seem to trust Chuck as an authority either. He really just sees him as an impulsive adrenaline junkie at best; in the cruise ship episode, Chuck is drunk the whole time and Chris doesn’t seem to care. It also says something that while Ella and Tanaka are present, he doesn’t trust them to tell them they might be finding an alien in the attic until they find out for themselves.

Difficulty Understanding Others’ Emotions

This one’s gonna be easy, as I talked about it earlier in the essay. When Sonic asks, “Was the cat supposed to be me?” Chris immediately assumes he’s upset and tries to placate him with an explanation. This happens throughout the show as well; let’s take Mr. Stewart for example, that man is obviously spying on him and inserting himself into his life and Chris thinks it’s maybe a little weird, not that much though. He also spends most of his time hanging out with Shadow standing there in complete obliviousness as to what Shadow is thinking or feeling. He doesn’t even seem to really register Shadow as a threat, instead throwing himself at him in hopes that he can convince him to help Sonic. In doing so, he also doesn’t think that Tanaka would at all be worried about him, and is surprised at their reunion that Tanaka was upset.

Aggression / Delinquincy

This was very underplayed, but in the Sonic Battle arc, we literally see him start to rebel. He tells Sonic that he’s sick of being the perfect rich kid, that he wants to be a problem on purpose sometimes. Sonic seems to completely understand that, as that’s a point Chris needs to reach. He has to realize he cannot be perfect and that’s okay.

[except that dialogue was all cut in the 4kidz version no im not bitter]

Only Chris explores his imperfection in a really bad way.

And now. Let’s get into the attachment.

And to do that, we need to get into...

Part VI: What Sonic Represents

This is a fascinating part of Chris’s psyche since I think it occurs both subconsciously and consciously, but when I drew attention to Sonic bringing the light back into Chris’s life? Yeah, that’s cause he did.

Everything changed only after Sonic arrived. Suddenly Chris’s parents are... visiting??? For once??? TOGETHER??? His grandfather wants to spend time with him! His friends at school are hanging out with him more and he’s even made new friends! And most importantly, he has the mobians around him constantly. He’s got constant attention from all of them, and while he quickly takes on the figure of the Responsible One, he’s still WITH PEOPLE. He’s gone from being alone all the time to surrounded by a rowdy-ass found family.

Most of all is Sonic. Chris seems to have attached himself mainly to Sonic, likely because in his mind Sonic represents the moment when everything changed. Of course, Sonic would probably have been the worst of the gang to get attached to, seeing as he runs off all the time. The first several episodes, even after they stop hiding from the public, Chris is noticeably upset whenever Sonic leaves. He only calms down after several, several episodes, after assurances from every character that this is just a thing Sonic does, he never sticks around anyway, don’t worry about it.

But still, he definitely attaches himself to this hedgehog for better or for worse.

And it gets worse.

Part VII: Even More Trauma

First we gotta talk about the end of Season One.

At the beginning of the arc, Chris is noticeably... incredibly depressed. He’s also disassociating hardcore. He’s constantly staring into nothing, his face upset, but as soon as someone snaps him back to reality, he forces a smile on his face, acting happy despite going through a ton of negative emotions at once. Almost like he’s trying to behave perfectly.

Chris realizes throughout the episode the attachment he’s gotten to the mobians, and especially Sonic, but even then he still does his best to help them. He steals a chaos emerald and runs off to Eggman in order to get them home, because it will make them happy! Nevermind if it doesn’t make Chris happy. He’s never worried about that anyway.

Of course this backfires and Eggman kidnaps him, and then Chris has to go through the serious trauma of. Well. Being strapped to a wall, forced to watch helplessly as Sonic fucking dies.

And he’s blaming himself for it too.

MAJOR shoutout to Kobayashi’s acting in this scene, holy crap. But he just screams, and then... BREAKS THROUGH METAL?? And GRABS the Chaos Emeralds despite them ELECTRIC SHOCKING HIM???

And then of course we get this incredibly subtle dialogue.

"I will not let you have it. I will not let anyone have it. They’re only mine. Only me. Sonic... Sonic, you’re staying with me forever.”

Immediately after this, Chris almost fucking dies, and is only saved by Super Sonic. When he sees Super Sonic, he reacts by... begging. He drops down, clinging to Sonic and screaming and crying that he is nothing without Sonic.

Chris literally yells that he can’t do anything without Sonic, because that’s how he felt before Sonic. He could not do anything to get anyone to care about him, it only happened when Sonic arrived. So that’s how he sees himself: useless, worthless.

Sonic of course stays, but then dips for six months. When he gets back, a fucking god attacks Chris’s neighborhood, destroying his city. He gets sent away for a month, but that’s interrupted by Sonic being declared a fugitive from the government. Then Chris ends up with Shadow. He gets kidnapped by the goth clone of his emotional support hedgehog. He bonds with the goth clone. He gets the shit beaten out of him begging the goth clone to help save the world. It works, and Shadow runs off to save the planet. And then DIES.

You can tell how traumatized Chris is by this in the next episode. He’s disassociating again, staring at nothing, and eventually asks his uncle if he thinks they can actually live in the same world.

Which is followed by...

Part VIII: The Season Two Finale

We get the rather worrying scene of Chris having to write an essay for his school about his ideal future. Literally all he can think of is that he wants to stay with Sonic forever. He has no other ideals for the future. Just being attached to Sonic.

Only to go downstairs and find out that Sonic HAS to leave. They ALL have to leave. Their dimensions are caving in on themselves and they need to separate.

So he enters the Denial stage of grief.

He seems... dazed. Like he’s in a trance, as he argues that Sonic can’t leave, that all he wants to do is be with Sonic, that he can’t be apart from Sonic because he’s only been able to do things since Sonic got here. This was the first time he’s had agency in his life and he places it all on Sonic.

He decides that it must be Eggman’s fault and literally tracks him down. When he finds out that it’s not Eggman’s fault, he is distraught, and what’s interesting to me is that Eggman seems to get it. He just tells his robots to let him go. Let him be alone. Let him accept it.

Chris then falls back into the depression/disassociation during the entire farewell. He doesn’t emote, he just stares ahead. Something they cut in the English version is that while Chris is politely saying goodbye, throughout the whole scene you can hear his inner monologue screaming. Crying not to let them leave.

So he doesn’t.

The penultimate episode of Season Two is the culmination of Chris’s arc and they do it so beautifully.

Sonic knows Chris is going through a breakdown, and he lets him figure it out for himself. He lets him run off with him, he lets him make the decisions about where they go. Chris starts to realize this but says nothing. They see his tearful parents on TV begging him to come home and he... groans and leaves.

The episode also subtley shows Chris doing things himself. Climbing up the mountain, picking their roads. Sonic is slowly trying to let Chris know he has his own agency. That he is his own person.

They get to the campsite that meant a lot to Chris in his childhood, one of the only times that his parents hung out with him, and he breaks. Asks Sonic why he doesn’t hate him. Why he hangs out with him. If he only hangs out with him out of obligation.

And he comes to the conclusion himself that no, he can’t keep Sonic here. He can’t keep Sonic away from his world just because he has attachment issues. It was what he knew was right in Season One but couldn’t get himself to understand no matter how hard he tried. But now he gets it. And now he can let Sonic go.

The episode is soooo good, sooo fucking good. And then in the season finale, when we see the aftermath of that, when Sonic takes him on one last run and... he sees Sonic crying? Realizes that Sonic does love him and still lets him go? It’s impactful. It’s emotional.

Then when his parents come get him and he just smiles? Because he realizes they did come for him? That if Sonic can love him without obligation, maybe other people do too?

Chris’s severe attachment issues and trauma from being neglected culminated in this episode, and he made a bad choice. And then he made the right one. And that’s so good.

Part IX: Some Season Three Notes

Chris’s inclusion in the third season was... weird. It felt like they didn’t want to animate his adult model so they shoved him into a child body and made an excuse for it. But honestly, after traveling there, you can kinda... tell how much Chris has grown.

He was trying to get back to Sonic, but not because he needed him, but because they were friends. He and his friends wanted to see their friends again. He only went alone because he had a sense Sonic was in danger. And even in the twelve-year-old body, he’s an adult now and he acts like it. His only real emotional issue is that he is upset he can’t fight as well in his kid body, but then he figures out he can be useful with his inventions and finds a place with Tails. He’s basically parenting the rest of them for the rest of the season, telling Cosmo that her impulsiveness reminds him of his younger self. He offers to give up a way to return home because he knows the Metarex problem is bigger than himself.

At the end, when Eggman offers him a way home, you can tell they expected him to freak out about it. They’re shocked when he just says thank you, cries, and leaves immediately. They clearly not only will miss him, but they expected him to freak out like he did at the age of twelve. But he’s not twelve anymore. He’s spent the last six years surrounded by people who love him, healing from his trauma, and becoming his own person. So now he isn’t unhealthily attached to Sonic, and he can say goodbye if he has to. That growth, so subtly in the background of the season, really impressed me.

Part X: Fandom Reaction

On June 24 2022, I posted this meme to both twitter and tumblr.

On tumblr I got no pushback and a few agreements. On twitter I got a tidal wave of discourse, which tells you a lot about the two sites but regardless, this is the first time I get to ratio my commenters cause as of today, it has 23.4k likes and only 161 replies and 156 quote tweets. So that’s barely over 300 people (TOPS, considering several replies were positive) arguing against 23,400. So I may not be the only one thinking this!

But even still, with this being my most viral post atm, I got so many people bitching about Chris still. Even after all these years, he’s despised for being so annoying. And what is it? Is it really the fact that he got main charactered over Sonic? Really, I thought that was a plus of the show, that Sonic was a static figure that influenced what was around him. It doesn’t work for every Sonic property, but it did for this one. Was it just a hatred for humans in the franchise? Probably not, everyone loved Helen and the recent movies.

I really do think a vast majority of it is his realistic reaction to the trauma of neglect. “Ugly” trauma symptoms, like attachment issues, impulsive destructive behavior, aggressiveness, and selfishness, they are not looked upon kindly. Just look at how TikTok picks and chooses cute parts of mental illnesses and calls the rest “toxic.” And yes, sometimes mental illness can cause you to be toxic! And sometimes you’re just mentally ill! Sometimes you just have bad days and bad decisions and horrible mental states, and sometimes, life gets better. Sometimes life gets better and you begin to heal, and that’s what Chris’s arc was about, about him slowly gaining his own agency and starting to heal from his abandonment trauma. And he does this through the help of others. But with him having several moments where he reverts, several moments where his healing is non-linear, viewers see it as an annoying personality trait, not a trauma symptom he is trying to overcome. And one that he does. I cannot emphasize enough that he does overcome this and that the narrative specifically focuses on it. I’ve seen so many people say it was a writing flaw, that they never criticized Chris for his attachment to Sonic... it’s the focus of two season finales, what are you talking about? I think at that point, it’s just you.

Just think about why you find him annoying. You do not have to like Chris as a character but please recognize that his arc is a realistic portrayal of a neglected child and that’s why he is the way he is.

Part XI: Conclusion

I was gonna write a full-ass conclusion here but tumblr’s already trying to kill me over wordcount so uh. tl;dr Chris isn’t annoying he’s a traumatized child and this is something the narrative notices, examines, and resolves. What this means is that it’s not a writing problem, it’s a character flaw brought on by trauma that his character arc makes him heal from.

Leave him alone.

[inmyheaddd]

your lips my lips, apocalypse - jameson hawthorne x reader

wc: 2.3k warnings: kissing, friends to lovers, very fluffy masterlist

you were two young and dumb teenagers, finding solace in each other's company.

your relationship with jameson was a long one, stretching back years into early childhood.

you two never really talked before; you both assumed the other was like all the other people in your social circle. too rich to care, not a worry in the world, and about as deep as a kiddie pool. 

that all changed one night a year or two ago, at a fundraiser event your family and his were hosting together.

you hated things like this sometimes—the way your parents showed off as something to look at, a trophy, instead of someone to know.

after one too many introductions and sticking to your mom's side feeling like a lost child, you excused yourself, and maybe the tears that flooded your eyes wouldn’t have been so immediate if you didn’t see the relief that washed over your mothers face. 

you walked to the one place that was yours, tears threatening to spill with each step. it felt stupid, really. nothing particularly bad happened, so why did you feel bad? 

you finally reached the bottom of the stairs of the wine cellar, only to find a figure sitting on the last step. 

what?

the person's head turned immediately, hearing the clicks of your heels. 

even in the faint lighting, you recognized the boy. jameson hawthorne.

the troublemaker of the hawthorne grandsons, endless green eyes, and a charming smile that could kill. 

his eyebrows raised as he noticed you, holding a bottle of something in his hand. "what are you doing here?" he asked, his face otherwise expressionless.

your sadness made way for frustration. who did he think he was, sitting in your spot, asking you what you were doing?

“this is my house?” 

“okay. what are you doing here?” 

you scoffed, “i could ask you the same thing. all your brothers are upstairs, why aren’t you?” 

he turned to face away from you, taking another swig from what you now recognized to be a flask. “well i’m not my brothers, aren’t i?” 

you stayed silent. 

he must’ve realised how hurt he sounded, so he spoke again, “just needed a breather, that’s all.” 

maybe he wasn't as shallow as you thought.

you had so many questions, one of them being “how the hell did you even find this place?”. after a few beats of silence, you settled on a different one.

“well, mind if i join?”

he gestured to the spot next to him, “be my guest.” you tentatively took a step closer, smoothing out the bottom of your dress before sitting down on the step.

“aren’t you my guest? you’re in my house after all.” you fought the smile that found your face, then he turned to look at you, a similar grin on his face as well. 

“you’re not what i expected,” he said, tilting his head to the side, slightly narrowing his eyes. 

now it was your turn to turn away and look forward, shrugging your shoulders as you did so. “i try.” 

minutes turned to hours, and you found out that you and jameson were actually quite similar. 

as cliché as it sounded, you often felt older than you were. adults didn’t take you seriously, but kids your age around you didn’t get you. 

jameson did though, and he found himself actually being understood by anyone other than his brothers for once. you found comfort in eachother, and soon enough your bond was unbreakable.

you and jameson running off from events together became a common occurrence.

one particular time, the event was at his house. 

your cheeks began to hurt from all the fake smiles you’d been giving out. that was one of your key signs it was time to leave.

after a few minutes of mindless strolling around the hawthorne house, you settled on sitting by the pool.

you couldn’t swim right then, obviously, but it felt heavenly to take off your heels and dip your feet in the water.

god knows how long you were out here for. it was completely dark now, apart from the lit-up pool and windows from the house. 

you took your gaze up to the sky, leaning back on your arms to fully see the stars. 

when you looked back in front of you, you noticed jameson 50 feet or so away, walking towards you.

you look back at your lap, only letting your eyes find his once he sat beside you, rolling up his suit pants to dip his feet in the water. 

“hey, stranger,” he said to you, his grin starting to make an appearance.

“hey there yourself,” you responded back, slightly nudging your shoulder with his.

“what finds you here on this fateful night?” he eyed your high heels you placed on the floor then looked back to you.

you snorted, “you really want an answer to that?” 

“not really,” he grimaced, “i can assume it’s the same reason i’m here.” 

you looked back at your lap, "yeah, you’re probably right on that on that.” your fingers were mindlessly fidgeting with your skirt that ended just at your mid thigh. 

he noticed the sadness on your face; he couldn’t take it anymore.

he gasped dramatically.

“you’re also here as an underco-“

“—please don’t finish that sentence,” you said with a laugh. 

you always knew when he was going to make a stupid joke to make you feel better. or maybe it was the dramatic gasp, mixed with the mischievous glint in his eye, and his widened grin that you noticed all before he spoke, that gave it away.

but hey, he made you laugh. mission accomplished.

“sorry, cinderella, not in the mood for jokes?” 

he started calling you cinderella a while ago, because “you’re always mysteriously running off from parties early.” you asked if that would make him your prince charming, to which he shrugged and said, “i’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

you responded, “i’m in the mood to get the hell out of here, then maybe a few dumb jokes wouldn’t be so bad.” you tilted your head as you spoke, and you couldn’t help the smile that found your face when jameson's hand laid on top of yours, his thumb drawing small circles. 

“then we’ll get the hell out of here.” 

you looked down at your knees, noticing how yours and his were touching, but neither of you made an effort to move them apart. 

you also noticed the soft hum of the music coming from inside the house, the warmth coming from jameson's side, the dim lights, and how everything felt so still, your previous worries long gone. 

you wondered why you only felt this peace with jameson next to you. 

“actually i changed my mind, we don’t have to get the hell out of here. 5 more minutes?” 

you looked up at him expectantly, and you were pretty sure a smile was permanently etched on your face.

well, atleast that's how it was with jameson. 

“whatever you want. 5 more minutes it is.” he replied with a wink.

“actually, i wanna go.” 

“then let’s go.”

“i changed my mind, i wanna stay.”

he chuckled, “then we stay.” 

“are you seriously doing whatever i say?” 

“of course i am, why wouldn’t i?” he responded without missing a beat.

“you’re crazy.” a light giggle escaped your lips, and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“only for you.” he responded half jokingly.

you weren’t too sure when you and jameson got like this: jokingly flirting, meaning nothing on the surface, bearing your soul and deepest secrets to each other, not seeing each other for days— weeks even, then meeting again feeling like no time has passed.

maybe soulmates were real.

or maybe, you were just two good friends. 

maybe, he was just a nice person to talk to. 

or maybe, you were falling for jameson. 

jameson's arm around your shoulder and the trail of his hand running up and down your arm brought you back to the present moment. 

with your eyes trained on your legs that were now pressed against his, you mumbled, “you know, i made progress today. i didn’t stick by my parents the whole time. i actually tried to make conversation with people.”

you took a deep breath in before continuing, exhaling as you spoke. “granted everyone was like 40, and i was deeply uncomfortable, i still made progress.” you couldn’t bite back the sarcastic undertone in your voice.

jameson seemed to find that funny, or maybe he just wanted to make you feel better, either way, you felt his chuckle vibrate through his chest. 

“hey, any progress is still progress. if it helps, i only did three things possibly detrimental to my mental and/or physical health this week instead of my usual 7.” he added casually.

you wish you could take away all of his hurt, to kiss him all over until he felt a little better. 

but friends don’t do that. 

you knew he hated feeling like he was broken. so instead of telling him every little thing you love about him and how he deserves better than how he’s treating himself, you just laughed along. 

“how motivating of you, thanks.”

“of course, cinderella.” 

you turned your palm upwards and intertwined your fingers with his.

you squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. 

in his eyes, that was consolation enough. you never saw him any differently, even after everything he’s been through and everything he’s told you. you were quite possibly his favorite person. what did that mean? 

when you decided it was a good time to get going, jameson got up first, then put out a hand and helped you up. 

you dried off your feet, put your shoes back on, and he did the same.

“where do you wanna go?” he asked, briefly glancing down at you as you walked together. 

you hummed for a second before an idea sparked up in your mind. “why don’t we go to that one ice cream place?”

“is it open this late?”

“pretty sure it’s 24/7.”

“perfect.” he responded. 

then he had another question, “isn’t it a 30 minute walk?”

you smiled at him, “perfect.” you echoed.

he laughed at that. but honestly, he was as glad to be as far away from his house as possible. he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could.

your hand was brushing against his, and in an instant like he knew what you were thinking, he subtly grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours once again. 

30 minutes of breathless laughs, butterflies in your stomach, stupid jokes, and random questions later, you arrived.

you two got an oreo milkshake, instead of getting one each, you decided to share.

jameson got two straws and put them both on the cup at the same time. 

he angled one towards you, then you realised what he was trying to do.

“there’s no way,” you almost snorted.

“what?” he looked at you with a smile. 

“i’m not doing that, jameson.” you stated. but inside, you were screaming. you swore your stomach did 50 flips. 

“just this once?”

“no.”

“suit yourself,” he grinned at you, and then took a sip of the milkshake. 

you gave him a fake dirty look, which he returned, before you both starting laughing.

20 minutes later you two were in deep conversation, the milkshake long forgotten.

you two were talking about everything and nothing. from your moms, times you met but didn’t even realize it, childhood stories, debating if avocados or mangoes are better, to “if you could be a planet, which one would you be?”

that’s how it always was with jameson, there was never any pressure. talking to him was the easiest thing in the world.

the air conditioner was hitting your table directly, and you didn’t have a jacket.

jameson eyed you, cutting off his sentence. “are you cold?”

“no, i’m fine.” you wish your body didn’t choose right then to shiver. 

without hesitation, he got up from his seat and sat next to you in the booth.

jameson wanted to slap himself for leaving his jacket back at the house, but it gave him an excuse to wrap his arms around you. 

the laugh that left your lips when he did so made him feel like his heart was on fire, and his face too. 

you noticed the milkshake on the table, and noticed how jameson had barely even touched it. 

“you know, im kind of feeling that milkshake now.” you mumbled. 

“yeah?” he leaned forward and grabbed it with his free hand and handed it to you.

the two straws were still inside, and you angled your body so you were facing jameson. 

you tilted milkshake towards him, and then he started to take a sip. 

you leaned in to drink some as well from your straw, your foreheads were basically touching now.

then he smiled at you. 

god, his smile was dangerous. 

and it was damn near impossible not to smile back. 

you both finished the milkshake with slightly too much eye contact to only be friendly, and jameson took the cup from your hand, placing it back on the table without tearing his face away from yours. 

your gaze landed on his lips, which were slightly parted, then you looked back up at his eyes. 

his hand found its way to your jaw and he captivatingly held your gaze, asking a silent question.

you answered by leaning in, finally crossing that boundary of friends-or-something.

your arms wrapped around his neck, and your head tilted to the side.

he tasted sweet, the remnants of the milkshake still in his mouth.

every single nerve in your body heated up, you felt like you were burning, despite the freezing temperature. 

you pulled back with a smile, and he chased your lips. you let out a chuckle, and then your forehead was resting on his. 

the walk home was even better this time.your hand in his, talking about how stupid you both were to not see the obvious feelings you had for each other.

when it was time for you to go home, he kissed you once again. 

you officially discovered your new favorite activity.