#This is the shit he would fucking say in this situation for sure

[butyoudidthis4what]

Would You Believe Me If...

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

3.5k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CWs: mentions of alcohol; reference to sex; mental health issues; reader is not having a great time; reader doesn't like beer; depression; being sad for no articulable reason; self-hate; ass grab; kissing with tongue; little to no editing/proofreading; Jack being the BEST; hurt/comfort type situation (reader's brain is the hurt, Jack is the comfort)

Summary: Jack sees the sadness you're hiding from everyone and pulls you aside to talk and love on you.

AN: I was sent this ask and inspired to write whatever this is!!!! A short little fluffy comfort fic! I very much agree with that anon that Jack is very much an "On purpose. On purpose I am going to care about you" and "I never loved you on accident?" man. He would see all of you, good and bad, and still love you. I tried to give him that kind of vibe in You're Okay too and we see it here again (I hope, I don't really know what I'm doing anymore). I have absolutely zero fucking clue what the end is or where that came from but here we are friends. ALSO there is a very small Star Wars nod in here since I’m posting on May 4th! Thank you for reading!!

Jack’s eyes find you the second he hears you laugh. 

Quite literally a second because he’s always keeping an eye on you when you’re out together, not controlling or because he cares who you’re with. He just always wants to know where you are relative to him, just in case something happens and he needs to get to you. Military training, he supposes.

His eyes find you because he knows that laugh. It’s not your real laugh. It’s fake, the one you put on when you’re not super present and are hiding your sadness. To anyone else it’s very convincing, they don’t blink at it. 

He narrows his eyes a little to watch you better as you chat with McKay, Samira and Parker. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see your leg bouncing under the picnic table, can see the way you chew on the side of your cheek every so often. 

“You gonna pay attention to this conversation or just stare at your girl all day?” Robby asks Jack. Most of the crew is at a local park for a picnic celebrating Dana’s birthday.

“I’ve been paying attention and heard everything you said. Unlike you I can multitask.” Jack finally lets his eyes leave you as he turns to look back at Robby. Shen and Whitaker stifle laughs. Everyone knows it’s not true and just Jack giving Robby shit. You have to be able to multitask to be a good emergentologist, and Robby is one of the best, Jack’s told him that many times. 

“I agree though,” Jack nods at Robby. “The patient satisfaction scores are bullshit. They should automatically be a ten or whatever the highest thing on the fucking form is if they’re brough in via ambulance and survive.”

“People come in by ambulance for really stupid things that don’t really require us saving them,” Whitaker observes. 

“And people walk in with injuries they really should have come in an ambulance for,” Robby shrugs. “It would even itself out.” 

“Exactly,” Jack nods. He looks back over at you for a second and then stands up. “I’ll be back.”

“Sure you will,” Robby drawls, smirking. 

Jack ignores him as he starts walking over to you. “Hey,” he says to the group as he reaches you, sets his hands on your shoulders from behind and squeezes. You feel a little better already, just from being closer to him. The rest of the group continues chatting as he leans down to speak just to you. “Take a walk with me for a few minutes?”

You furrow your brows, tilt your head and look back a little to see him. “Um, sure. Is there a reason why? Are you sure? It seemed like you guys were having a good conversation.” You flick your head towards Robby, Shen and Whitaker. 

“I’m sure. And does there need to be a reason why I want to take a walk with my girl?” He turns his head a little more and places a soft kiss just below your ear. 

My girl. Even though you’ve been together for a while now it still makes you a little dizzy to hear. 

“No, I guess not.” You give him one of those fake smiles and he knows it’s not because you’re trying to fool him, not really, deep down you know better than to even try by this point, but because you’re in public. Have to keep up appearances. 

“Well I know not, so.” He leans back up and moves his hands from your shoulders. “I’m stealing her for a minute.” He nods at the group. It pulls some smirks but nobody says anything, they all just nod. As you get up Jack finishes off the little bit of cider left in the bottle you were nursing. 

Once you’re up Jack laces his hand with yours and leads you over to the park’s path, walks down it a ways with you in silence before pulling you off it. He walks with you on the grass until you come to a spot where the ground starts to slope down, the top of a little hill that provides a nice view of the sun setting over the city. You’re more than far away enough that nobody can hear or see you.

“What’s up?” You titter a little, clearly a bit nervous. 

Jack nods at the ground and you both sit, feet out in front of you, grass and soil dry from the heat of the day. “You were totally spaced out and not really there.” He eyes you carefully. “You’re back now, for the most part, but I wanted to see what’s up away from everyone.” 

You push your bottom lip out a little and shrug, shake your head. “I’m f-” Jack gives you a look. “I don’t even know why I bother trying,” you mutter. 

“Neither do I. But I get it. Wanting to hide it and not let me see because you know I don’t like seeing you upset. I feel the same.” He squeezes your leg gently and doesn’t press when you’re quiet for a bit as you think of what you want to say. 

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?” you murmur. You already know the answer but you’re using the question as an answer itself.

“Yeah.” Jack pauses and cocks his head at you, catches your eyes and holds your gaze as he speaks. “Would you believe me if I told you it was okay not to know?” He already knows the answer but he’s using the question to tell you it’s okay. 

You let out a breath through your nose and shake your head a little as you look away from him and out at the city, Jack doing the same. “I know it is. Rationally. But the irrational side of my brain doesn’t.”

You see Jack nod out of the corner of your eye. He gives you space to think, sits in the background buzz of the park with you, hand running up and down your thigh to ground you, remind you he’s here. 

“I’m just sad.” You shrug. You aren’t teary, don’t even have the urge to cry at the moment. It’s a hollow sadness. One that just vaguely aches and makes you tired. “There’s no reason for it. Just am.” 

“Would you believe me if I told you that’s okay too?” Again, he knows the answer but uses the question to make the point. 

“Is it though Jack?” You reply quickly. It surprises him, catches him off guard. 

He turns back to study your face, see if he can read what this is from your profile. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. 

“It doesn’t feel okay,” you continue. “Not even for me, but for you. It’s not fair to you. For me to just randomly be sad sometimes and unable to explain why. Because fuck Jack, I just want to sit here and be sad. I just want to sit here and be sad and maybe cry if I can get past whatever fucking emotional brick it is that’s stopping me from doing so. But what I don’t want is for you to have to sit here with me in it.” 

Jack lets your words hang in the air for a few seconds so that you know he’s really listening and taking them in, but not so long that it feels like he’s having to think of a response.

“It is okay. I promise you it is.” As much as he loves eye contact he knows it would be a little too much for you right now so he doesn’t push you to look at him or try to catch your gaze. “And it’s okay for us to just sit here. We can just sit in the sad. I hate seeing you be sad and struggle, yes. But sometimes you just need to sit here and feel it. And I want to be there next to you when you do. You don’t have to be okay and happy all of the time. You’re allowed to just sit here and be sad or whatever emotion you want to be. You don’t constantly have to be working towards being better when you get sad like this. We can stay here for a bit. I’m not going to let you or us unpack and move here, but we can visit sometimes. You can feel whatever it is you need to feel in front of me and with me. I want you to.”  

You let out a shaky breath. You know that what he’s saying is true. At least part of you does. But it’s so hard to accept. 

“And there are very few things in life that I have to do anymore, sweetheart.” He gives your leg a little squeeze before resuming running his hand up and down it. “You’re not holding me hostage or keeping me here against my will. I know I don’t have to sit here with you while you’re sad and don’t know why. I don’t feel like I have to. I choose to. I choose to sit next to you here in the sadness the way you do for me when I want to sit and be sad and not know why. I choose you.” 

“You should choose better.” It’s whispered. “You deserve better.” 

Jack starts shaking his head before you even finish the word better. 

“Yes, Jack, you do,” you say before he can get anything out. “Because you’ve been through so much already. You deserve to be with someone better. Someone easier to love who isn’t constantly putting you through shit like this. I know you love me, Jack, I promise. I never doubt that. But sometimes I don’t understand why you love me. Why you love me when I can be so fucking awful and all over the place and sad randomly for no reason. Do you see that Jack? Do you really see me? What you put yourself through by loving me?” 

Jack’s hand stills and squeezes your thigh again, longer this time, but still at the perfect pressure. He hurts, physically, his heart hurts seeing you like this, hearing your voice and knowing how much you mean what you’re saying. He hates it. He wishes he could take away your pain. But he can’t. All he can do is try to help and try to make you feel a little better and at the very least not let you be alone in it. 

He adjusts his position so that he’s turned toward you a bit more, the side of one of your legs and one of his pressed together. 

“Darling, the way you see and feel about yourself is not the way I see or feel about you. Just like the way I see myself and feel about myself is not the way you see or feel about me. We’re our own worst critics, as fucking cliché as that shit is. And I love you and mean this with all the love in the world, but you’re right. You can be awful at times. But the only person you’re ever awful to is yourself. Like you are right now.” You can feel tears start to form behind your eyes at that. Not because it’s mean and his words have hurt you. Because he’s right and you know it. 

He takes in a deep breath and looks out at the city for a moment before his gaze returns to you. “I don’t put myself through anything by loving you. I’m not burdened by loving you. And of course I see you, I always have,” he says with a heavy conviction. “You think I fell in love with you by accident? Or blindly? With my eyes closed?” 

You swallow thickly, can feel his eyes on you. “No.” Tears sting at your eyes now. “But still. You shouldn’t have to do this with me. I shouldn’t be work. But I am.”  

“Oh honey,” Jack breathes out softly. He takes a second and then shifts, sits a bit further up and grabs your legs, pulls them diagonal a bit and you a little closer so they can rest on top of his and you can look at each other better.   

“I need you to listen to me, yeah? Really listen.” Jack holds your face with his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones for a second while he looks you in the eyes. “Loving you is not the chore that your past has made you think it is.” He squeezes your face a little. “It’s not a chore at all. It’s a fucking privilege.” 

That gets a few tears to slide down your face and Jack’s thumbs are quick to wipe them away.

“And I know you can’t see that, and that you might never be able to see that. But it’s okay, because I do. And I will tell you it over and over and over and over until you understand why Robby tells me nicely to shut the fuck up sometimes.” He gives you the smallest knowing smirk.

You laugh at that, and it’s watery, and through your tears, but it’s real. You love the way he does that. Knows when to instill just enough lightness into this serious of a conversation to keep you grounded and from getting completely overwhelmed, but also knows when it’s not appropriate in a serious conversation. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper through some tears and shrug at him. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jack whispers back. He leans in and kisses your forehead, lets his lips linger there before pulling them away and resting his forehead against yours.

“You have to repeat this speech a lot.”

“I know.” He says it so matter of fact as he pulls his forehead from yours to look at you better. His hands leave your face and take yours in his, fingers tangling together.

“It makes me feel really bad. Like it’s going to push you away. Or like you’re going to think I don’t trust you or your love or-”

“I don’t think that, nor will I. I understand, baby. I really do. Because I feel the same way sometimes. I don’t care that you need reassurance at times. It doesn’t make me feel like you’re questioning me, or my love, or our love. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m the problem or somehow doing something wrong or not doing enough or anything else. It makes me feel like sometimes your brain’s chemicals get a little fucked up. And you know what? So do mine. I think we’ve had this conversation at least a time or two with the roles reversed. I think you have to repeat a version of the speech I’m giving you right now a lot. And do you care?”

You shake your head gently. “No. I would give you it every day if you needed me to.” 

“Guess what?” he whispers.

“So would you?” You give him a little pout and big doe eyes that show how much you love him and it’s so adorable he has to smile a little.

“Yeah. So would I.”  

He leans back in but this time he gives you a kiss on the lips, lingers just long enough before he breaks it and nuzzles his nose against yours. You keep your eyes closed as he pulls away, a little smile on your face. You open your eyes just in time to see the nearly beaming smile it pulls from Jack. 

The two of you sit there for a few more minutes before you finally turn to look at him. “We should go back.” 

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “We can stay longer.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m ready.” Jack nods, gently moves your legs off his and stands up before holding both hands out to help you up. 

Instead of taking your hand and starting to walk back though he slips his arms around you, slides his hands in your back pockets and pulls you right up against him by your ass. He raises his eyebrows and smirks a little, a slight bobble of his head when it makes you gasp in surprise. 

His hands leave your pockets and slide up so that they’re wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. You rest your hands on his chest, look up at him knowing he wants your eye contact. Jack smiles when you give it to him. 

“I see you. I see all of you. Even the parts you don’t want me to see. The parts you’ll never show anyone else. And I did before I fell in love with you. And I still chose to jump head fucking first into being in love with you and even right now, sitting here in the sad with you, I’d make the same choice without a second thought.” One of his hands comes to hold your jaw, thumb on one side of your chin, his other four fingers on the other side, index finger right in front of your ear and the other three just below your ear and on your neck. “I choose you. All of you. Not just the you that you like and think is good enough. I choose all of you because I love all of you and I know that all of you is more than good enough. I choose you and I will always choose you and I know I’m lucky to get to make that choice. I love you.”

Jack kisses you then, hand tightening just a little to hold you still for him. They’re chaste at first but turn deeper, his tongue running over one of your lips, a silent question. You let your hands run up his chest and over his shoulders before sliding your fingers into his hair, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck and open your mouth for him in silent answer, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and taste you, let you taste him. The taste of you pulls a groan from deep in Jack’s chest and you shiver. You only pull back when you’re desperate for air and Jack chases your lips with his. It makes you giggle.

You can feel him smile against your lips as he rests his forehead against yours again.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “And I choose you too. I love you.”

“I know.” You feel him smile a little wider against your lips before he gives you another kiss. 

You bite your lip as he pulls away, let your eyes open back up slowly to his grin. Jack grabs your hand and leads you back towards the path.

It hits you a few steps in. “You taste like cider.”

“Yeah,” Jack nods.

“You don’t like cider. You don’t drink it.”

“Yeah,” Jack shrugs slightly. “But I was drinking beer and you hate the taste of beer. And I knew I was going to kiss you like that so when you got up from the table I finished off your cider so you wouldn’t taste the beer on me.”

You beam up at him and he just smiles, can feel your happiness. He knows it hasn’t made it all better, that you might still be sad overall, that it might linger for a while.

You walk in a comfortable silence for a minute until you break it. 

“They’re going to think we fucked, probably.” You smirk a little at Jack. 

“You wanna play into it?” He’s so unfazed and stoic about it. So Jack. “I can go grab some little twigs to put in your hair, a leaf, some grass.” 

You burst out laughing. Properly. Fully. Real.

“Twigs?!” For some reason him saying the word twigs is hysterical to you. 

“There’s my favorite sound,” Jack laughs with you. “Well, one of them, anyway.” 

“Oh?” You glance up at him as your laughter trails off. 

“You would have been making another one of my favorite sounds if we had in fact fucked,” he says nonchalantly, swinging your hands a little.

“Oh,” you breathe. You can feel the smirk radiating off him. “Do you have more favorite sounds?”

“Course.” You see him nod out of the corner of your eye. “You saying my name. You saying you love me.” He squeezes your hand. “And the sound of your heartbeat when I rest my head on your chest.” 

You bite your lip at that. It’s so sweet it almost makes your heart ache. “Awwwww!” You squeeze his hand and lean into him. “You’re such a romantic, pookie.” 

“Ha!” The pet name catches him by surprise. “No.” Jack shakes his head at it, but his smile gives him away.

“Pookie is cute!”

“Do you understand the actual level of shit I would get from Robby if he ever heard you call me pookie? I’d have to get a new best friend and a new job.” You giggle at him. “You’re laughing but I’m serious.” 

“I’ll go into work with you one day this week and conspire with Myrna to come up with an even better nickname than fruitcake for Robby if you’ll let me call you pookie sometimes.”

Jack stops walking and looks down at you, pretends to eye you up for a second before giving you a little smirk. “Come up with something really good that’ll drive him up a wall and I’ll consider it.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm so sorry but the thought of hearing him say twig just sent me at the time I wrote this. I have no idea why. Anyway, I hope this was okay and you enjoyed and thank you so much for reading!!

You can find my Masterlist here for more Jack! Requests are closed while I catch up, but apparently if you just send in an ask with your thoughts about Jack I may be inspired and write something! I love chatting with you guys and likes/reblogs/replies are super appreciated and motivating!

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[keferon]

Ooo Prowl deciding to snoop or bug the mecha scientists about how various ones work so that he can better figure out how to keep pilots from getting killed in the field, and Tarantulas being one of the only to actually show him the work plus talk possibilities once the mad scientist realizes that Prowl’s actually listening and genuinely paying attention.

Cue an increasing back and forth of Prowl coming by with new ideas for ways mecha abilities could be advanced for safety or protection, with Tarantulas consistently being the only one to figure out how to do the impossible work needed with their Earth materials (and scavenged Quintesson materials?).

Which then gets pushed even farther as Prowl gets more and more desperate with every death and puts himself front and center for Tarantulas to use as a test subject for their new ideas. Tarantulas’ questionable morals not seeing any problems with potentially dangerous or unstable upgrades bc the science is simply fascinating + Prowl really wants to do this clearly so who is he to refuse. Like Tarantulas is gonna make sure Prowl doesn’t die from such things, he likes having him around too much, but if the side effects are within a certain (dubiously safe) threshold then he’s not gonna exactly mitigate them all that much. (Upgrades for other mecha & pilots might be. A bit less safe comparatively. Tarantulas has a soft spot for Prowl and Prowl alone of course)

Eventually Tarantulas is bringing even more wild and dangerous ideas to the table, and bc of years of results and… companionship, one could say, between the two, Prowl is almost completely trusting with whatever Tarantulas brings to the table after only a quick (and maybe not entirely honest sometimes) rundown.

Which obviously has lead to an increasingly questionable state of Prowl’s general health. Not that Prowl would care as long as he’s able to pilot his mecha and do his job.

As well as increased isolation from many others somewhat encouraged by Tarantulas as Prowl focuses only on his pilot work and being around Tarantulas for brainstorming sessions or upgrades. Withdrawing from many around the base as a defensive measure so he doesn’t get overwhelmed if something goes horribly wrong out in the field- grief could get in the way of directing or helping others to safer situations after all. And this being the way things are for a long while.

Until a certain visored bot crashes into the tactician’s life.

OH MAN IMAGINE

Jazz doesn't want everyone to know that he is secretly tiny because he is shady and sneaky like that. But also his armor is too big to fit in corridors so he can't really follow Prowl everywhere. Including the labs~

So one day he decides that "fuck it I wanna know more" and hacks into security system to look though cameras footages right. And he finds the ones that placed in the labs and discovers the fucking HORROR that regularly happens there.

Bonus points if he doesn't realize that the reason Prowl does all this is kind of. him. Jazz.

He looks at Tarantulas and thinks there must be some kind of shady scheme involved. He thinks that Tarantulas is somehow forcing Prowl to go through this shit.

While the real reason is just. Prowl lost his previous partners. He doesn't want to lose the new one. He is afraid he wouldn't be good enough to keep Jazz alive and Tarantulas is very conveniently here reaching his hand and promising that "You can be better at protecting him and keeping him alive. Sure thing you can save him you just need to let me do a couple of tweaks and upgrades~"

[daylightmidnights]

Okayyyyyy I'm finally freeeee. Now I can rant about this masterpiece as much as I want.

First late me start with...... NIALL AND PHOEBE ??? Fuck yes! I'd have loved Niall to cause Harry some trouble but since Harry seems to trust him enough to appoint him as the main guard, he's not a threat. Plus I've come to the conclusion that I kinda like him so I wouldn't want him to suffer from anymore jealousy right now (not saying I wouldn't love for him to be jealous in future tho 👀). Anyway I am happy for Phoebe, she's the sweetest and deserves everything she wants. She and Niall would get married and have 10 kids and they'd play with Harry and yn's kids and then two of them would fall in love with each other and then you can write a story about that (excuse me...got carried away).

And I want to see Niall being goofy with her infront of yn. I want them three to be friends aaahhhhh I'm such a whore for good unlikely friendships. Like it's so mind boggling when you think about it. Yn being lower class and Phoebe and Niall technically being upper class than her but she's gonna be the queen and both of them gives her so much respect without a question about her social position. But now she's above everyone else and yn's just trying to exist with that fact. She's still the same at her core though so it must be so hard for her to adjust in this setting. All of this must be so fascinating to her in a way. Yeah I just want her to say 'fuck it' and be best buddies with Phoebe and Niall and like play chess with them or something on the bedroom floor lmao

And her first kiss was Lane? Bloody LANE? Eeesshhh I'd have wanted someone from their slum or something who had a crush on her and someone she kind of liked to be her first kiss. But Lane does seem perfect. Because not only is he her closest friend but Harry also kinda doesn't like him? So when he learns that his royal smug ass wasn't her first kiss he's gonna lose his shit and when he learns that stupid LANE was her first kiss he might have to take 10 days long cold bath to cool himself down. Hope we get to see his reaction to this information. Pretty please?

But as much as I want king Harry to suffer I'm starting to like him. I loved him in this chapter. Loved hiw sincere he was with that whole situation. He went and brought them back to the castle himself. And kinda felt guilty? That she and her family had to go through that despite it being his responsibility to take care of her and her family. And I have to admit that even I didn't like the disrespect towards him by Lord Mayor. What was that guy thinking? Harry is THE KING. Do you have no fear for your life Mr Mayor? Your stupidity made me go "Yes Harry go and behead him and I will hand you the sword" and I don't like being violent Mr Mayor. Leave my girl alone. She doesn't deserve all this shit. You people don't like her she knows that but she is still trying to be nice and fit in. She's taking those fucking etiquette class even though Harry gave her choice not to. She's trying okay? Leave her be. Hate that guy hate him hate him hate him

And god forbid if he does something with the brooch I'm gonna kill him myself (and I don't like violence so this is serious to me). Because that's Harry's mother's brooch that he gave to his wife-to-be, someone who he selected just to mess with his people? HELLO? IT'S HIS MOTHER'S!!! This is a big deal. Why isn't she freaking out more? Does she not understand the gravity of this? He's giving you his mother's things, his mother, probably the only person he truly loved and cherished. It's gotta be a big, huge deal.

Poor Harry lost his mother so young. Seems like his father mistreated her. No wonder he is like this. He probably hated his father. I'm sure of one thing though, he won't be like his father. He won't use yn as he pleases, won't neglect her or mistreat her. He already cares for her very much and even though the purpose of bringing her into this was not so great he's still looking out for her, protecting her and sees her as his queen. I'm pretty sure once he actually falls in love with her, he's gonna be a soft warm cuddly whiney mess when they're together alone. And I can't wait for that day. He's gonna cherish her.

The bath scene was very sexy and I loved that he was commanding but not forcing her to do anything. Even when he teaches her things or challenges her beliefs regarding God or her fear, he doesn't push his opinion on her. He tells her things and lets her decide for herself. Which I think is very wise and thoughtful. And it works too. She makes her own decision about what she wants. It's a progress. He is so keen on enlightening her about various things. I hope he teaches her more about other things too. About their kingdom and politics and other stuff. He also said he's gonna take her with him next time. She's probably never travelled anywhere before. So maybe they can explore place together when they go somewhere.

And last but NOT FUCKING THE LEAST.....they finally KISSED. Yessssssss!!!! Bet Harry was all drunk on her lips afterwards. Couldn't think straight, only wanting to kiss her again. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh I'm dizzy thinking about it. And they're gonna share his bed from now on. Can't wait to see what happens when they're sleeping next to each other. I don't think I can wait for the next chapter. Give me now! Gimme gimme gimme!!!!!!

I wish I could get inside your brain and see what's gonna happen next. This world you created has sucked me in and now I can't get out of it and don't want to. I don't want this to end. I'd love 100 chapters of this. Thank you so much Guru. This is so so good. Your writing is so good I can't even explain. Waiting for it gets tough but it's always worth it. Every chapter so far has been incredible 🤌

I love this so much. I love you so much more. Thank you for all you do. You're absolutely amazing! ❤️

[3] It's Good to Be King | mean king!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Series Summary: Harry, a handsome, but ill-mannered new king, bound by tradition, must select a queen, and against all expectations, he chooses Y/n, a street beggar. Now, Y/n finds herself caught between the gilded cage of royalty and the cold, harsh simplicity of her past, navigating a court shocked by her presence and a king who revels in the scandal of it all.

Note: Harry is mean/uncouth in this, though things do get better. He doesn't treat anyone around him with much respect at all. Expect to not like him much at first. Also, this is set in the 1800s England, and while not completely historically accurate, I did my best to keep it as accurate as possible.

Ch. 3 Word Count: 8,749

Ch. 3 Warning: Harsh physical treatment, descriptions of extreme poverty, discrimination, humiliation, some light petting, inspection kink (light), corruption kink, mention of parental death (let me know if I missed any!)

It's Good to Be King Masterlist

. .

Y/n had learned that the king had been called away to tend to a minor land ownership dispute in a village that was a day's ride away. He'd be gone for five days as long as there were no unexpected postponements.

When Phoebe told her, Y/n couldn't pinpoint exactly why she felt so wistful. She knew he was a cold, bad-mannered person, so she shouldn't have expected him to speak to her about his departure beforehand. But to feel the tight stretch in her chest that he didn't tell her himself… that was perplexing.

Their interactions over the last few weeks she'd been at the castle had been not more than fleeting. They'd had dinner together a few times, and one evening he went to her room with a gift for her. He didn't let her open it while he was present, but before he left, he placed his hand on her hip when she was wearing only her chemise and said, "This, I much prefer. I shall have another fig tart sent to you this evening."

He squeezed at her skin, his fingers indenting into her newly very slightly softer hip. She understood him to mean the small bit of weight she'd put on was what he preferred.

The gift he left her was a beautiful gold brooch bearing the kingdom's royal coat of arms carved into the center, adorned with sparkling purple, red, and amber jewels. On the back, it was engraved with the name of Harry's deceased mother, the late Queen.

She forced a smile as Phoebe poured hot, fragrant Ceylon into her teacup. "He'll be gone five days? The wedding ceremony is in two weeks. Let's hope nothing delays their return."

"Two weeks already is it?" Phoebe said, lifting the porcelain lid from her breakfast platter. "Are you scared?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I've no choice. My family finally has everything they've ever wanted here. My sister, Dell, cried last week when she tasted the citrus soufflé we all had for dessert. I can't do anything to ruin this. Even if he is the devil."

A dashing devil.

"I believe he's fond of you. He's a cad, but I've seen him look at you when you're not paying attention. Everyone has."

Y/n smiled down at her plate. She only pretended not to be paying attention, but she knew his gaze on the curve of her neck and brushing at her lips when she'd look the other direction. Crude, maybe, but he did show her something about her body she'd not soon forget.

In fact, it had come quite in handy once her bedroom was quiet and she was settled into her down blankets with a book full of wanton stories in her lap. The guilt she'd felt the first few times she'd reenacted what he'd shown her soon turned into a craving she daydreamed of at the most inappropriate times.

Just as then, while Phoebe stood by watching as she ate her breakfast.

"Have you eaten?" Y/n asked.

"Not yet."

"Would you like a biscuit with butter?" Y/n placed a biscuit on a small dish and gestured at the chair across from her for Phoebe to sit.

"It's meant for you, Y/n."

"Of course it's meant for me, but I'd like you to have some. You're my friend. Please, sit with me."

Phoebe offered a gentle smile and pulled the chair out to sit. "Thank you."

Y/n had begun offering some of her food to Phoebe during the mornings when no one else was around. Her friend always denied the initial offer but eventually wound up giving in. In fact, it seemed to be easier to get her to sit with Y/n by the day.

She'd also begun taking etiquette classes twice each week in preparation for the wedding and being seen in public with the king. The council advised that she needed the extra work. Harry left it up to Y/n whether or not she'd like to go. She decided to take the classes but quickly regretted that choice. The governess was harsh and easily angered.

Y/n had the feeling that her teacher didn't like her one bit, despite her best efforts to charm her. In fact, she got the idea that not many appreciated her presence in the castle at all. So she often preferred to stay in her room or her sisters'.

"Have you ever kissed a boy before?" Phoebe asked as she dotted the edge of her lip with her napkin.

"I have. But it was just with a friend because I was curious. And only once."

"Was it Lane? The one you told me about who likes his drink?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I'm sure he liked it more than I did. What about you?"

Phoebe smiled shyly and looked behind herself toward the door, as if anyone could hear them through the heavy, solid wood. "I might have last night…"

Y/n sat her fork down and leaned forward. "What do you mean? With whom?"

"You swear to not tell anyone?"

"Phoebe, you know I would never tell anyone your secrets. Was it Niall? It was Niall, wasn't it?"

The look on her friend's face when she spoke the name of the guard told Y/n everything she needed to know. She'd had a suspicion about the pair a couple of weeks prior when she spotted Niall winking at the girl, and the way her face shaded in pink was a clue as to how she felt about it.

A sudden knock on the door had both girls looking at one another in surprise. Phoebe quickly stood and walked toward the door with Y/n right behind. When she pulled the door open, there, standing in her doorway, was the Lord Mayor, and two men with him.

"Miss Y/n Y/l/n, you will come with us at once," he said, looking behind Phoebe at the queen-to-be.

"What is this about? Is the king okay?" Y/n asked, placing her hand over the broach he'd given her.

"You and your family are not welcome here in the castle any longer."

"What? I don't understand! Is there not—"

One of the men stepped in, pushing Phoebe to the side, and grabbed Y/n roughly by her arm. "Come!"

As she was pulled away from her room, the new guard, Niall, stopped the procession before they got too far. "Halt!"

"Move out of my way at once, guard!"

"My loyalty lies with the king and his orders. Unhand Her Majesty at once!"

"The King's duties fall on me when he's away. This is my command. Move to the side."

"Then you leave me no choice but to send word to King Styles to notify him of your trespass."

Y/n felt her arm yanked as she was dragged down the stairs. She screamed when another set of hands was on her middle, pushing, and then she spotted her sisters, parents, and grandmother already near the entrance, surrounded by men.

"Let me go! You needn't grab at me!" The men didn't listen. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, she was pushed until her knees and hands hit the stone floor just off the carpet. But she had barely a moment to take a breath when she was again being grabbed and hauled upward until she was standing next to her mother.

The Lord Mayor stepped in front of her and reached forward. Y/n gasped when she felt him yank at her dress and then realized he'd pulled the brooch off. "Take them away."

Niall called out before Y/n and her family were directed to load into the horse cart that had been waiting for them at the front of the castle. "King Styles will receive word tomorrow. Do not fear, madam."

Two guards hung on the sides of the cart, and a driver at the front controlled the two horses pulling it, as Y/n and her family clung to the wooden benches inside so they didn't fall. People stood and watched as the cart was pulled out of the castle gates and toward the slums of their overcrowded rookery.

"What's happened, Y/n? What did you do?" Her mother bellowed dramatically.

"I don't know what happened. This wasn't the king's orders."

"Those men were atrocious. Grabbed my toast right from my hand!"

The townsfolk were staring, laughing, and some spat as they passed them by. She was far less worried about her family's reputation than she was about the rude behavior of the middle and noble classes. Y/n may never hold influence or power, but she was a human, and she deserved fundamental decency. She'd always believed everyone did.

Until then. Those people mocking her were the lowest of the low.

Being carted out of the castle in a buggy meant for livestock had been done on purpose. It was meant to be a spectacle. It was meant to humiliate. But it only made her angry. For the first time since she'd met the king, she understood him, in part. Understood his need to cause a stir and disrupt the comfortably spoiled bourgeoisie. Now she understood why he didn't like any of them.

. .

"Your Majesty, I have an urgent message from the main castle guard. Y/n Y/l/n and her family have been removed from the castle without your permission. The Lord Mayor took it upon himself to act as regent in your stead and made the decision to banish them from the castle grounds. Your presence is requested at once to deal with the matter."

Harry had never been so furious in all his life. He'd led an army in war and dealt with enemy soldiers who spat in his face, and had never been treated with such a lack of respect as this. He'd only been gone for two days, and already he had his own men conspiring behind his back. It was in direct defiance of Harry, and that just would not do.

He had no choice but to abandon his purpose and return right away. The land dispute matter could wait. Taking care of the Lord Mayor and everyone involved could not. He bid farewell to his company and left the moment he mounted his steed with his men in tow.

A day's ride across the expanse of Thornekeep and the surrounding villages was tiresome. Harry had been looking forward to more rest before he was to return, but now he had to forgo the gin and the hearty meal that was being prepared for him so he could deal with the unruly cast of characters he'd left in charge of the castle in his stead.

If he'd been a hair more cruel than he was, he would have forced the horses to push through until exhaustion. But he relied on the steeds to safely give him transport, and rest was necessary for the animals, just as it was for him and his men.

And as upset as he was about being disrespected, he was more concerned about Y/n than anything. She was his responsibility, and it was no secret that she and her family were not happily welcomed into their new roles. But he certainly hadn't expected this.

The following day, when he arrived to town just outside the castle, it felt as though everyone suddenly retreated back into their homes. As if even the townspeople knew they'd done something wrong. The vendors and workers averted their gazes.

Pointing in the direction of the town square near where the Lord Mayor lived, Harry looked at two of his men who were riding with him. "The Lord Mayor, go and collect him. Bring him to the private chambers closet off the long gallery. Make him stay there and wait for me. You," he said as he looked at Fred, "Get the covered stagecoach and have Alfred drive it directly to Y/n's home. We will be bringing them back to the castle at once."

Harry and the guard traveling with him rode deeper into the town, where the slums sprawled with wet, muddy roads, buckets filled with slop, decrepit living quarters, and street drunkards. There, the people stared intently. They stopped in their tracks and watched as the king rode by on his healthy, strong steed, with his armoured guard behind him. It was the first time he'd ever gone into the rookeries, where the poor lived and worked (if they could find work).

"You, sir!" Harry shouted at a man carrying what looked to be a heavy sack over his shoulder. The man stopped and narrowed his eyes at the king. "Can you tell me in which direction Y/n Y/l/n lives?"

"Oy…" The man dropped the sack at his feet and looked around himself. "I know 'o no such name."

"She's a woman of 20. Has a father called Peter and her mother Lettice."

"Peter and Lettice… Peter Y/l/n…" He rubbed at his chin and chewed the inside of his cheek. "I might know it."

Harry sighed. He knew the spiel. The man was expecting some kind of payment for information. Directing his horse to step closer to the man, Harry looked down at him with a frown and could smell the stench coming from him. "If you know it, tell me then. If you do, I'll let you continue on your journey unharmed."

The man shrugged. It was worth a shot. "Across from the mill. There's a graveyard at the top o'the lane. Four or five tenements down. B'be careful o'the pigs. They've not eaten."

The smell, as Harry traveled deeper into the overcrowded and filthy streets, was almost unbearable. Every five or ten yards was a bucket overflowing with excrement. He'd always known these places existed, but to see it with his own eyes (and to smell it)… he was appalled. The kind of squalor the destitutes lived in was barbarous.

When they arrived at the rundown tenement across from the mill, Harry jumped from the horse and gave the lead to his guard before sloshing through the filth to step up onto the rotted boards of the platform. He knocked on the door with the loose frame and stepped back as someone opened it up right away.

"Who's that?" The old woman stumbled back a couple of steps and clutched her hand over her heart. "The king! The king is here!"

"M'lady, I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. Are they here in this tenement?" Harry held the door open and stepped inside. The main room was dingy and damp and smelled of stale food and unwashed bodies.

"By god!" The woman sat down on the benchtop and inhaled deeply like she'd been given the scare of her life. "The king is here!"

A young man came down the stairs and looked from Harry to the old woman. "We can 'ear ya! Enough!" The man removed his floppy hat and lowered his head. "Your Highness. To what do we owen'ya th'honor?"

"I'm looking for the Y/l/n family. I've heard they live here."

"Right y'are. Lemme find 'em."

Harry scraped his eyes around the space, and while it wasn't as filthy as things appeared from outside, it was unfit for any human. The woman gasped as she pushed herself to stand and mumbled something he couldn't hear, nor did he care much. She seemed to be half out of it, gin drunk perhaps.

The ceiling was caved in at the side of the common area, where it appeared there was some kind of unworking, rusted stove. The wooden floors were soft under his feet, and the walls stained with moisture.

"King Harry?"

He turned quickly when he heard Y/n's voice. She made her way down the stairs, followed by her three younger sisters. "Y/n. I've come for you and your family. I received word about the situation and came as quickly as I could."

She clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. "Yes. It was humiliating. But we're used to being treated as such."

"You and your family are to gather your things quickly. A carriage will be around soon to bring you back to the castle."

"We were told we were not welcome there."

"The Lord Mayor will be dealt with forthwith. But what he says is irrelevant. My word is final. You will come back to the castle, and we are to proceed as before."

Y/n nodded slowly and motioned for her sisters to go back up to their quarters. "That is fine. Would you like to come up?"

She could see it in his posture and the expression on his face that he was not well in that room. The stench could get to anyone, but at least in the small space where they lived, it was tidy and much less foul. So he followed behind her up to their floor, and she let him into their room.

And it was indeed just a room. Pallets of cloth and feather, and straw were strewn over the floor where he assumed they slept. In the corner was a bench piled with random things: cups, bowls, sacks, a couple of books, a lantern, a tin of fish. In another corner, there was a tin bucket full of charred things, the wall behind it black from soot. He imagined it was their source of heat, like a fireplace.

Lettice and Peter were already standing in wait, their faces like those of young children awaiting permission to play with their new things. They bowed their heads. "Your Majesty," Peter said.

"Nan," Y/n said softly as she bent down to put her hand on her grandmother's shoulder. She'd been sitting in a chair, asleep. The old woman startled and looked at Y/n like she was some kind of horrible intruder.

"Nan, look…" Y/n motioned toward Harry, and the old woman blinked her eyes slowly.

"We're saved? He's come for us. Thank heavens!"

There weren't many things to gather. Harry hadn't imagined their living space as such. He figured a multi-room flat, nothing extravagant, but at least a home with space to cook and use the WC. But there was none of that. No running water, no private space, and no comfortable things to lie upon at night. How could anyone live like that? And that there were seven people all crammed into that room? He couldn't imagine it.

There was a double knock on the door before it was opened. Everyone turned to look as a young man stepped inside. "What's this then? It's true!" He grinned at Y/n and then lowered his head. "Your Majesty."

Y/n stepped in next to the man and put her hand on his arm. "This is my good friend Lane. He was there with me, the day you came to me."

Harry looked the dirty fellow up and down. "Yes, I remember Lane."

He watched his wife-to-be whisper something to the young man, and then Lane turned to look at her with a brief nod as he ran his hand over her wrist. There was no time to challenge what had just happened or to ask what was said and why someone else was touching her like that when Alfred had finally arrived with the covered carriage.

Once Y/n and her family were loaded into the carriage, Harry and his guard led the way back to the castle. He'd seen a lot of things in his life, but he had not been prepared to see the rookeries up close like that. He'd seen the outskirts of impoverished neighborhoods in other kingdoms and towns and but never in his own. Shock might be too heavy of a word for the way it made him feel, but it was close.

He ordered three footmen to take Y/n's family to their quarters and give them whatever they would like to eat (as well as draw each of them a bath) while he went with Y/n and Phoebe to bring her to his chambers. "You'll stay in my room from here on. Your room will still be open for you, but I'm not satisfied for you to be there all night alone."

Y/n was still struggling to wrap her mind around the events of the last few days. Niall had told her to expect the king to come and get her, but she doubted that he really would. She imagined it was easier for the king to take a more suitable wife. A woman used to that life with a higher status. Someone the proletariat would prefer.

She was thankful that he did, though. She'd gotten used to some of the small luxuries (and big) that the royal castle afforded them all. Mostly, she missed her privacy and the comfy bed.

"Have her wardrobe brought over, a warm bath drawn, and whatever she'd like to eat," Harry said to Phoebe, who quickly got to work.

Y/n kept quiet as she watched the king open up his balcony and drape the lace curtains to the side before he poured two glasses of gin and handed her one.

He gulped his portion in one go as she sniffed her glass. "Go on. Drink it. You need it more than I do. Feel free to have as much as you like."

"Thank you."

"You should not have to thank me. This should never have happened. I will deal with the Lord Mayor and see what kind of punishment the council allows. I just ask that if you leave this room, have Phoebe and Niall with you."

She nodded. "Of course."

"I've made arrangements for a formal announcement of our engagement. Day after tomorrow, we will have a public appearance to announce to the whole of the kingdom that you will be the Queen Consort. No one can then deny that I've selected my wife, as it seems they've all done."

He paced toward the open balcony and put his hands on his hips. "I will be gone til late. I have much to do. Please use my room as if it were your own."

Y/n eyed the bed and then shifted her gaze back to the king as he stepped toward his door. "I'm grateful that you came to get us. I'm indebted to you, My Lord."

He sniffed and looked down at his feet, hand on the knob the door. "Yes. You are."

. .

Y/n woke up to the sound of pouring water. Slowly opening her eyes, she found Harry sitting next to the fire, sipping hot tea and reading something intently as a man stood over the large tub in the king's room. She couldn't remember when she'd fallen asleep, but it wasn't long after her warm bath and the big meal she'd eaten.

She wasn't sure what to think exactly. The last few days had been quite dramatic and unusual, then with the king barging into their meager home to bring them back to the castle... He'd returned for her when he didn't need to. He had no allegiance to her or her family, so it was a bit of a surprise that he seemed so insistent that she come back with him.

"My Lord. Your bath is ready."

The king looked toward the man and pushed himself up from his chair. "You are dismissed."

Y/n blinked and watched as the man left the room, and Harry stepped toward the bath to touch the water. He looked tired. She wondered what time he'd returned to the room. When he began to remove his clothes, she thought to look away, imagining he didn't realize she was already awake.

But she remained still and kept her eyes on his frame until he was stark naked, despite her internal scolding to look away. The urge to keep watching was much stronger than her polite reasoning to avert her eyes. His body appeared to be that of a hard worker, with solid muscle and a sturdy build. It had never been a doubt in her mind that he was well-formed, and now she had proof as she watched flexing, dense muscles as he stepped into his tub.

"You may join me, if you like."

His voice startled her. She hadn't realized he was aware that she was awake, watching him. Pushing herself to sit up, she pulled the blanket to cover her state of undress. He'd seen her before in just a chemise, but she still had the sense that it was wrong to bare herself to any man like that.

"Don't be shy with me. I've already tasted and smelled the juice of your quim and you've just seen me naked. Come."

Y/n gulped at the memory of Harry's hands on her body as she let out uncontrollable noises when he'd touched her. Then the aftermath of the forbidden shame as she watched him taste her offering. The lingering thought of the way he'd jutted his pink tongue out to lick at his fingers had her surging with heat.

"My King… It's improper—"

"Now don't start with that again. I say what's proper and what's not, and you disobeying me is improper."

Slowly, she moved the cover from herself and slid her legs to the edge of the bed. Harry had not yet looked in her direction, which she was thankful for as she wrapped her arms over the thin material that clung to her breasts and stepped closer until she was just next to the tub.

He looked up at her. His eyes were bloodshot, and the fatigue in them was evident. "Well, if you're not going to join me, at least sit." He patted the wide stone ledge of the tub as he kept his eyes on her.

Trying her best not to stare into the water, she shifted her gaze toward the fire and sat down where the king had told her. His broad chest rose and fell tiredly as he stretched his strong arms along the top of the tub. She looked down at his fingers, the distance of only 7 or 8 barleycorns away from her thigh. So close he could touch if he stretched his middle finger toward her.

"I didn't foresee the kind of difficulty I'd encounter in keeping you. I knew some would disagree with my choice, but to have been interrupted in my work and so blatantly disrespected… We will not be making that mistake again."

"I'm sorry, it was—"

"Stop." He spoke loudly, his voice carrying a harsh edge. "Do not apologize for concerns you did not create. I have chosen you, and that's final. The Lord Mayor will have to come to terms with his punishment, just as I will have to come to terms with my lapse in judgment. I take responsibility for that egregious failure. But I'm not happy about it."

Y/n kept quiet. She'd seen the king raging mad the moment he stepped into the castle the evening prior, and while that anger had not been directed at her, she felt it as if it were. So part of her still felt like she'd done something wrong. And it was becoming clear to her now that her place as queen was not going to be an easy one. She was not beloved by the kingdom. She was a disgrace to the monarch and tradition.

"Next time I have to take leave, you'll come with me. I don't believe we have any choice in the matter. You're my responsibility."

She gently placed her palm down on the cool stone and watched as he dragged a cloth over his chest. "When do you leave next?"

"Not until after we're wed. And once you become pregnant, all of my duties away from the castle must be delegated to someone I trust. We can't risk anyone trying to hurt you again."

As he wetted his skin and wrung out the damp cloth, she glanced over his shoulder and up his neck to his structured jawline. She imagined his babies would be very pretty. The out-of-place thought surprised her.

"I wish I weren't such a burden, My King."

He dipped the rag into the water and looked up at her as he leaned forward. "You're my burden. I chose it. I bear it. It's what I want. I could very well pick another who's more suitable. Easier. More docile. But I don't want that. I want you."

It wasn't romantic. Not at all. So why did her heart skip a beat when he'd said it? He'd admitted she was a burden. She was not easy, and she was not docile.

"I'm trying to be more docile. I'll learn."

He waved his arm as water dripped from his skin. "No. My mother tried to be compliant and docile, and look where it got her. The moment she surrendered her will was the moment she was sentenced to death."

Shaking her head in confusion, Y/n leaned forward and dipped a finger into the warm water. "What do you mean? The queen died from consumption. That was what we were all told."

"And she would still be alive today if she had kept a grip on her spirit. But she allowed my father to take it from her. He took her charm, her wit, and her will. Consumption took her because she allowed herself to surrender. It was her death sentence."

She had wanted to run her hand over his back in a soothing gesture, but she thought better of it. It was possible he was no longer mourning the loss of his mother and that he wouldn't want her touch even if he was. The queen had been gone for many years.

"I loathe to bring this up right now, but I feel it's important to say. I'm worried that the brooch you gave me, the one that belonged to the queen, is gone. The Lord Mayor took it from me when he removed me from the castle."

Harry's face darkened as he turned to look toward the door. "Did he now? If it's gone, he will pay a heavy price in the form of losing his title. That's theft and punishable by law. But I have a feeling it's still in his possession. I will have it back to you by tomorrow, and if not, I will buy you a new one."

"I'm very grateful to you, My King. You returned so quickly. My sisters are very happy here."

He looked at her face, and his irises burned a trail down the front of her chemise. "And you? Are you happy here?"

She looked down at her lack of clothes and shifted forward so that her breasts were less visible under the thin fabric. "I am. We all are. My family and I."

"Here…" He held his hand toward her, the wet cloth in his palm. She took the rag from him, and he repositioned himself so his back was facing her. Y/n understood that he was requesting her to take the cloth to his back to help him wash.

She hesitantly moved her hand toward his back, as if touching him would set her to flame. But once the damp rag was pressed into his shoulder, he sighed, and she realized that touching him wouldn't hurt her at all. It had been silly to think it would. Running it across his back, she noted the smooth skin and firm muscle that defined his sturdy figure. Plunging the cloth down into the water along his spine, she allowed herself to take him in. The backs of his arms and neck, the curve of his shoulder, and the breadth of his frame…

"If you joined me in the tub, this would be much easier."

It was true. If she were sitting behind him in the water, she'd have easier access to him, but that would require her to remove her garment. When she didn't answer, Harry turned to look at her as he leaned back into the tub until his shoulder was pressed into her thigh. "Keep going."

"Your back is hidden. I can't reach—"

"Then here." He took her hand with the cloth and pulled it over his chest. The new angle of him, his back to her as she leaned forward and slowly ran the rag along the solid muscle of his pectorals, felt quite salacious. But she continued wiping and cleaning him. When he leaned his head back against her thigh, she gasped and paused her motions.

He laughed, his eyes closed. "Oh, mouse… Calm yourself."

She slowly began to rub over the skin of his chest as she looked down at his face. His features were tranquil as he moaned, the lower she dipped the rag. She had no intentions of dragging it too low, but he seemed to be enjoying it as she ran it over his stomach.

Glancing down further, she could make out something dark between his legs, and then the member attached to him as it swayed with the water's movement. It was indecent of her to be looking, but her curiosity was acute. And besides, she'd seen it before already. She knew what he looked like, and right then, it seemed so harmless as it was distorted beneath the surface of the water.

"Lower."

Y/n blinked, casting her sight back to his face. She hesitated to bring the cloth lower against him, but figured she didn't need to go that low. There were other areas she could clean, other spots she could run the rag against. So she leaned in further and wiped down to his hip and the top of his thigh.

He let out a breathy groan and spread his legs the slightest. "Good."

She smiled at the praise. She was doing something right for once. Trailing the cloth to his other hip and down to the top of his thigh, he rocked his hips upward and moaned. When he turned his head, rolling it over her thigh, she felt his warm breath sneaking under the cloth of her chemise.

The moment was entirely too intimate. Harry was quite amenable in that moment, and the way he had used her thigh as a pillow felt sweet. Something about how tired he seemed and the way his eyelids were closed as he puffed out shallow breaths made her body heat. She didn't understand why she was responding to him that way.

But then he lifted an arm out of the water and reached behind himself, his hand pressed over her thigh, and then he squeezed as he moved his palm up to her hip. Her light colored chemise wetted under his touch, and she could see her skin coming through the damp material. She watched as his thumb gently ran along the bend of her thigh.

"My Lord…" She didn't know what she was to say, but she knew she had to say something. Anything… "You're getting my clothes wet."

"Then take them off."

She swallowed and lifted the rag away from him. "That's—"

"Improper? Is that what you were going to say?" Harry pushed himself from his spot in the tub and turned to look at her directly.

He pulled at her hip and grinned as she dropped the rag into the tub and gasped. She loved how it felt to have his hands on her, but she was too embarrassed to admit it as she writhed away from him and stood from the tub to step away.

The King leaned forward against the tub, his elbows on the spot she'd been sitting. "Where are you going?"

"I'm… You're the devil!" She said as her body thrummed with wanton heat.

He let out a loud laugh and felt something slick under his palm. Looking down to the stone, he stitched his brows together and drew a finger through the moisture before he brought it up to sniff. He dropped his mouth open in surprise as he looked at her. "Little mouse… This is not water. Come here at once and let me see."

"No." She looked away from him as she clutched the back of her chemise. She knew very well what it was, she just hadn't expected it to seep through the linen down to the stone. She'd only recently begun to understand the mechanics of how her body reacted to being aroused ever since Harry showed her the way she could make herself feel.

"Yes." He spoke firmly, his green eyes boring into her body as her chest heaved. "Come here and we'll take care of this for you. Now I see why you're so pent up. You need a release, don't you? It's been a hard few days for you."

She shook her head and looked down at her bare feet. She was doing everything she could to be a good girl, to do the right thing by God. But the king, whom she was certain was the devil himself, tempting her, made it unimaginably hard to keep righteous.

"Have you been taking good care of your little leaky spout like I showed you?"

She let out a wobbly noise and closed her eyes to pretend that question had never been uttered.

"I think you have. You very much enjoyed it when I showed you how to touch your little coo. Has it been good? I'm sure you were unable to whilst back at your tenement, but certainly you know well the kind of joy it brings when you have privacy."

She swallowed, the sound clicking loudly in the room. "No."

"Yes. Come here."

Opening her eyes, she let her sight trail over his arms and his face as he leaned into the tub so casually. Like what he was saying wasn't unscrupulous. He was so well-favored in looks that it almost wasn't fair. How was she to remain a proper lady?

"Was it me you thought of when you touched yourself?"

Shaking her head, she quickly glanced away. It was hard to maintain eye contact when she was lying.

"No? Then Lane? Your friend? You thought of him?"

Setting her eyes back on his, she shook her head. "No! Of course not!"

He smiled. "You don't fancy him then?"

"Never. Not like that."

"What about me? Do you fancy me, Y/n? Be honest. I can already tell when you're not being forthright. You can't even look me in the eye when you answer falsely."

Her skin felt like she'd fallen into a patch of stinging nettles as he kept his eyes on her. He'd figured out her little signal. She was no good at lying. But she didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how he made her feel deep down.

"I want you here now. Come sit or I'll get out and force you to."

Still clutching the back of her chemise, she stepped forward slowly until she was next to the tub. Harry reached up for her hip and pulled. "Sit."

Y/n placed her hands down on the ledge and sat, but Harry pulled at her again until her legs were in the water and the bottom of her chemise was wet. Her heart was galloping in her chest as he placed his hands on her thighs. "You're going to be my wife. Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"That's right. You're mine. So when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it for me. I don't ask much of you, Y/n," he spoke as he ran his hands up and down her thighs, then hooked his thumbs under the hem of the material and brought it upward to her mid-thigh. "You needn't worry much about anyone else asking you to do something. Just me. Yes?"

She nodded again and watched as his thumbs pushed upward under the chemise over her skin and she thought she would faint.

"What did you eat last night?"

"Uhh… roasted potatoes and cream, salted fish, bread and butter, apples."

He smiled at her as he paused his hands at the top of her thigh, and she felt her whole body flush in embarrassment. If he lowered his sight and peeked, he'd see her full quim she was sure.

"Good. You're eating well. And you slept well too, I presume?"

She nodded, trying to keep still so he didn't conclude how much she was affected by his hands on her.

"You like this."

Blinking, she turned her sight to the table with the water pitcher without answering.

He laughed softly and ran his thumbs along the curve of her thigh where it met her hip. "That's a yes. And what about this?"

She felt his fingers press into the flesh at the inside of her thigh as he pulled and spread her legs. She looked down quickly and sucked in a sharp inhale at the sight. It was lewd for him to see her like that. And yet… She was curious.

"Keep going?" He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know…" She gulped.

"You don't know? Then, how about I just keep going until you say stop? Yes?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He shifted his gaze further down to her privy parts, and she closed her eyes when she felt his thumb slide against her crease. He hissed, gripping her thigh harshly as he inspected her bits and moved in closer to get a better look.

"Very pretty, little mouse." She felt his thumb slip down further and softly massage until there was a little intrusion. She opened her eyes and watched as the tip of his thumb disappeared into her hole.

Snapping her thighs closed, Harry shot his eyes back up to her and removed his fingers. "Stop?"

It hadn't hurt her, but it was the embarrassment that had her shying from his touch. "I… I don't know. It's… not right."

"What's not right? The way a man and woman enjoy one another? Is that what's not right? Why would God go through the trouble of making humans with parts that can find pleasure in touch?"

"I think it's just meant for the sacrament of marriage."

"So, stop, then?"

She looked down at her legs dangling into the water and wished she were more bold like the girls she'd read about in her stories. The ones who'd found their lovers before they were wed and allowed themselves the indulgence of pleasure.

Harry gently wrapped his fingers around the space just above her ankle. "Look at me, mouse."

She looked into his green eyes and felt like she was being torn apart by her conscience. She'd never wanted to give in to her carnal pleasure as much as she did with Harry. And she never imagined that a man like him would defend her honor more than once. He was crude and undisciplined, but there was something tender, just for her, underneath the cold and pompous performance.

"Do you know why your little coo gets all wet like this, if not for the enjoyment of the act? It's human nature. It's how we were made. You do not need to be shy with me. If you want it, you can have it. As you've seen before, God will not smite you for such a thing as this."

The skin on her ankle where his hand was gripped felt warm, and it sent a wave of wicked craving through her insides. She wanted to reach toward him and push the curl from his forehead and slide her finger down his prominent nose over his plush pink lips just to see what he'd feel like under her fingertips. She wished she were brave enough to slip into the tub with him and fall into the temptuous ways of a dauntless woman.

He released her ankle and stood from the water, his strong, denuded body wet and dripping before her. She glanced only briefly at the organ hung heavy at her eye level before tilting her head back to look up at him. He bent as he took her chin in his hand. "What is it that you want? Tell me now."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I'm confused."

He puffed out a laugh and let go of her chin before he stepped from the tub. "Aren't we all, Y/n? No one really has the answers. Everyone is confused. You just have to learn to speak up for what you want most and hope that it wasn't the bad choice. No one can guide you but yourself."

She turned to watch as he pulled a robe over his body and walked toward his balcony. What did she want most? What if it was the bad choice?

Pulling her legs from the water, she stepped from the tub and guardedly followed behind him, the bottom half of her chemise soaked, which sent a chill over her heated skin. She stopped at the balcony door and coasted her eyes over the view of the castle garden with its fountains and tall trees. In the late spring, it would be a lovely place to stroll through, she thought. Harry was leaned into the stone railing, the tips of his curls in his damp hair already drying from the cool air whisping through it.

He was the sort of man who women whispered about. Both because he had such a rakishly handsome face (and form) and because he had the most brutish devil-may-care attitude. It made him quite a fascinating attraction. But the current of care he had for her underneath his thoughtless exterior was what drew Y/n's curiosity the most.

"You may do with me as you please. Make the decision for me. I won't say no." It took everything in her to spit the words out.

He turned and placed an elbow over the stone to lean into as he looked at her, his head cocked to the side as if she were a peculiar creature. "That does not please me. Indeed, I do not like being told no, but even worse is when I'm told yes and it's a lie."

"Then yes. I want to know. I may as well learn. Not just to please you but to discover my own pleasure."

Pushing himself from the stone, he blinked in surprise, a ghost of a smile turning the edge of his lip upward. "Then tell me what it is you want. Speak plainly."

She glanced behind her at the bed and then back at the king. "I'll… I could lie on the bed, and you could touch me again. Maybe…" She looked down and felt every atom of her being light up with scorching embers. "I'd like to feel your kiss."

She hadn't even noticed that he'd stepped in front of her until she saw his bare feet standing before her. Lifting her head upward to meet his gaze, she could have melted from the warmth on his face. "I haven't kissed you yet, have I?"

Harry placed his wide palm on her frozen cheek, and she closed her eyes. He hadn't kissed her, but the tender touch had her skin sizzling and her heart racing. "You haven't yet kissed me. No."

Blinking her eyes open to look at him again, she watched his irises smooth across her features and drag over her lips slowly as his thumb slid down her cheekbone. "Then we must remedy that mistake."

She'd been kissed before. Lane had been drunk, and she gave in to his persistent bickering to shut him up and to sate her own curiosity. It was hard and dry and smelled of gin and ale and sweat. It hadn't been what she imagined a kiss should be.

So, when Harry nudged his nose against hers, and she felt his hand soft on her hip, she knew it before he'd even closed the gap between their lips, that this would be the kind of kiss she'd always daydreamed of.

She felt his breath over her lips, and his fingers squeezed her skin as his thumb dragged gently at her temple before he pressed his smooth mouth to hers, and the noise of her doubt was silenced. She hadn't even realized that her hands were clutched over the fabric of his robe at his chest, like he would drift away as if in a dream if she didn't hang on tight.

He opened and closed his lips around hers in soft, careful motions, and she stepped closer, beckoned by the pull of his hand at her side. She parted her lips to mimic how he was kissing her, and he moaned into her mouth. She had no time to be startled by the moan and that it signified his delectation, when she felt the wet tip of his tongue lave over her bottom lip before he pulled it into his mouth gently.

Oh god! She was wrong about everything! He didn't need to confess an undying love or obsession that was not there. He only needed to kiss her for her body and her mind to relent to him. It was delicate and confident, prurient and genteel… it was bewitching.

Did one truly not need the magical bounds of love to bloom in rapture from a kiss? Her skin and her blood and the nails on her fingers and toes were all vibrating with the kind of sensation that she always assumed only happened when a soul had found the one it was predestined to.

His hand slowly pushed away from her face and wound to the back of her head as his other reached across her lower back until she was flush against his chest. Her heart fluttered so rapidly at her brazen reach, her hands moving upward of their own accord until she'd pushed her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Even with the chilled wind whipping over her thinly clothed frame, her blood burned hot. If he took her then and laid her in his bed and claimed her virginity, she thought she'd not say no. Because what was this? Why was the subtle unanchoring of her morals and her posture on right and wrong suddenly categorized as a lie and a truth? The thick veil of deception was quickly trampled by just a kiss. What else would she soon uncover?

When he parted from her, he did not remove his hands, but he set his gaze against hers with a soft wonder that carried over to his features. Slowly, she pulled her fingers from his hair and placed her palms on his shoulders, all in silence. Was he in awe just as she was? Surely not.

But his delicate touch at the back of her neck was an homage to something profoundly affectionate. It had all been unexpected. Perhaps even for him.

"I have much to do today, else I'd remain here with you. It's nearly ten, breakfast will be served promptly. We'll call for Phoebe to help you dress and begin your day."

He stepped away, and it was then that Y/n could feel the harsh wind cutting through the linen to her flesh. She stood, confounded, as she watched the king walk back into his room to dress himself. Frozen in her spot, she let her mind wander to her childhood when she used to play pretend that her prince had found her. He'd sweep her up, take her away, and they'd fall madly in love and rule the kingdom together. Was it something she'd somehow foreseen, or was it just the silly imagination of every young girl who wished for something better?

Confounded, maybe, but Y/n was armed with a new awareness, a definite truth that she hadn't been privy to before. That even those who mean well can tell a lie, and truth can be found in the most unexpected ways. It was an awakening for her to see the way her heart could soar, as if God himself had elicited it. And right then, her heart was in flight like a bird that knew the way it must go with an instinct that directed its path. It was not God that guided the way. It was her.

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[avaredava]

Hi could u do a sukuna x reader fic, or headcanons,which ever I’m not really fussy 🤷🏽‍♀️ but if u could do a fic that would be good. Anyways if u could do a fic where sukuna is president and reader is his assistant, and always does everything for him and they start to have a fox and bunny kind of dynamic because sukuna loves her innocence and then he decides to destroy it and they have some hardcore sex in the grand foyre of his house infront of all the staff.

Wait you're on to something... RAWR

Master list's

⯌Sum

Ryomen Sukuna, the angry, "fuck off" president. But his cute assistant doesn't get on his nerves but plays with his heart strings. But he needs to break her innocence because he wants to prove that he's not all pathetic then you're making him.

⯌ Wc

1.4k

⯌ Warnings

Explicit Sexual Content (18+), Graphic Language, Dubious/Non-Consensual Sexual Situations, Power Imbalance (Boss/Subordinate), Workplace Exploitation, Voyeurism / Exhibitionism ,Obsessive Behaviour, a bit of degradation, Mentions of Pregnancy, Breeding Kink, Mild Dubcon, Possessive / Controlling Behaviour

_

Sukuna was a total douche, he was not liked by any of his staff but he was a good leader. So that's why he kept getting voted. Long story short, he knows how to run a country.

He was extremely short tempered so people got fired easily so why would people work for him? The pay was immaculate. Once again you heard a scream and yell of "Get the fuck out of my office!"

On an average day, a guy gets fired and of course another one gets hired.

So you, his cute little assistant, has to find another guy for the replacement. It shakes everyone to their very core with anger to the fact that he's never yelled at you or even thought of firing you.

He walked out going to your desk right outside his office which is perfect if he ever needed something. He made sure your desk was by the window so he could do online meetings and look at you to see what kind of dress you wore and maybe the type of bra he could see if the shirt was white.

He was flaming when he walked out then gently asked you if you found someone new. While the other guy walked out of his office behind him in absolute tears.

You nod and show him a totally unqualified guy but he couldn't have the heart to say, "Fuck no." So of course he agreed.

He would never tell anyone but the only reason he's nice to only you isn't just because your attractive, there are tons of hot woman at the office but you were so different.

The way you laughed, different ways even if they were weird and snorty just made his heart flutter

Another one of your jobs was hosting his house parties, mostly his favourite staff and some important people from all over the world. Like prime ministers, sometimes governors and other presidents. It really depends.

But today it was more so his staff for celebrating the fact that the income was coming in fast. And some other politic stuff that your sweet brain wouldn't understand.

You aren't dumb you majored in engineering so you don't really know a shit ton about politics. So you sent everyone invitation cards with the date, time, and location. With little hello kitties decorated on it.

Nothing about politics it looks like it's for a child's birthday party.

Everyone thought that it was Ryomen Sukunas last straw but to everyone's surprise (not really) he said it was cute! In front of everyone. The mean gruff dictator called something cute. With a little memorized smile like it was the most beautiful thing he ever saw. (other then you).

So everyone showed up fearing for there lives making sure they were exactly 30 minutes early not one second early or later just how Sukuna likes.

You were 30 minutes late and everyone wasn't surprised when he kissed your hand with a gleam in his eyes that shows no good intentions.

He sat at the edge of the table with you at the corner of the table right beside him. You wanted to help his servants but Sukuna didn't let you.

But you really liked his lead servant, basically his right hand. Other than you of course. Uraume. Honestly you've gained a good relationship with them. Hanging out when Uruame comes to give Sukuna his lunch.

So you did it anyway.

And Sukuna walked into the gigantic kitchen pissed when he saw you cooking some food. But you're not a whiny, obedient bimbo just because you're a sweetheart.

"No I wanna help 'Ryo!" You angrily yell at him after he tells you to leave gently. First time Sukuna got mad at you but instead of yelling he wants to break that sweet innocence.

Maybe make you more innocent, teaching you a lesson. Or make you corrupt and make you a little devil. His devil.

But either is good for him because all he can think about is dragging his thick vainy cock through your velvet untouched walls.

He mentioned that to Uruame and they said it was creepy because he knew that about his secretary. It's not exactly his fault he decided to pick up the wired phone connected to yours when you were talking about it at your desk!

He was only curious... no harm in that right?

He yelled at everyone to get the fuck out of his house. (It happened before) but made his loyal servants stay. He sent them to eat instead of serving which was a surprise. Especially to everyone dashing out absolutely shitting themselves.

He brought you away into his library room. He opened and then locked the door when you both were inside. You couldn't explain the heat of the room, the lust and desire in his eyes.

He was itching to touch your pussy, just see you sopping and dripping for him. To leave you needy for teasing him in your own innocent way, but to fulfill your needs would be much more significant and meaningful to him.

But you need to be embarrassed, in the way he's gotten boners for years mid meetings when you dropped down to pick up your pencil, people snickering and you didn't know why.

But his yearning for your sweet, candied pussy to be on his mouth, or just watch it was getting too strong to ignore anymore. His hand wasn't gonna cut it no longer.

But he needed you soaked to take his big cock. Absolutely drenched.

But he doesn't exactly carry around lube. So it has to be natrual.

"Bend over. Just fucking do it."

He said the last part because he didn't care if you were gonna deny it. But of course he slipped you safe word when you bend over his couch because he's not a fucking disgusting person. He flipped up your dress and took your panties off pooling them at your ankles.

He smiled when he saw you already soaked, but it wasn't good enough. He opened a drawer and took out a bullet vibrator and a smaller one. He took the bullet and shoved it deep in your pussy. Even if it was for clits he didn't care.

He gave you the remotes and got the smaller one taped on your clit. He took both of the remotes and turned the one inside you on making it vibrate right on your g-spot.

You realized they were fresh toys, all out of packaging. They all were. It's like he was waiting for you. You saw the receipt and realized it was bought the day after you two met and that just made your knees shake.

He turned them both on. Highest settings.

You moaned out and he slapped your ass. What really broke you was the almost incoherent, horny, slurred sentence he let out. "Listen, you wanted to help right? Well your gonna serve all my staff there food and then sit on my lap and ride me like a good girl okay?"

"Mhm."

"Y/N say it fucking louder."

"Oh- uhm okay!"

He laughed on how naive and pathetic you were being. Like a cringe little slut. His slut.

He helped you stand up and gave you the sweetest kiss on your forehead. "I'm taking you out after this, your mine. Remember that I'm not using you." He's used so many woman but for some reason he didn't want to make you even feel like that.

He made you serve every single servant with shaking legs and arms. Everyone was extremely concerned. Some mumbles of "Is she okay?" and "is she sick?"

After giving everyone their food you finally came with a whimper as Sukuna took you on his lap, giving you butt a little smack, making sure you know who pleasures you. Now and forever.

A few minutes later he made everyone not look, but just listen and if they looked? Instant death. He was holding your hips moving you up and down his cock, every time he lifted you up and down, the slick on the base of his shaft was increasing.

You finally came as he jolted you to a stop so his cum can reach your uterus. Make him a heir. A fucking dynesty.

He kept going and going no stop on his frequent pounding in front of everyone until they knew you were pregnant. And until your voice became raw with those pleasured screams.

He's changing these politics. He doesn't want to be president, he wants to be king so you can be his queen. Even if you already are to him, he needs it on paper.

He doesn't care if that means going to war. That man needs you and him to go down in history as the greatest lovers.

[rootbeerrex]

@saedyne LET'S FUCKING GO SOMEOEN WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT IT THIS MEANS I HAVE PERMISSION TO BE UNHINGED ABOUT THEM LMAO ok so I wrote this whole post this morning and fun fact I was almost late to work bc I lost track of time while writing it BUT I WASN'T SO IT WAS FINE anyway. here it is.

jackbat nation how do we feel about a dana/dick b plot. I think it would be funny to make Tim's parental life worse. his ex-step mom who is still living with him + his adopted dad + bio dad who are co-parenting him starts dating his sort of older brother.

-they meet bc dick needs physical therapy after his gunshot wound in war games, and he can safely get it from her without identity questions bc she already knows. dick starts flirting with her almost instantly bc Vulnerability? no no no I must instantly cover it with my irresistible charm.

-Dana is unimpressed bc she's had patients like this before, and she can tell he's just trying to distract her from her job. it doesn't work. (plus she is still "on a break" so with Jack, and she is Loyal and wouldn't cheat on him)

-Eventually he finishes physical therapy but they keep hanging out together bc they became Genuine Friends, and they enjoy each other's company.

-then one day they come back from an outing with tim (they are his escape from all of Jackbats fighting) and walk in on Jackbat in a. questionable situation. Dana turns and walks right back out the door, and Jack runs after her being like "it's not what it looks like!!!! I'm not gay!!!!!" (Bruce audibly scoffs at that)

-dick rips the fuck into Bruce ("how fucking could you he is still MARRIED she was WAITING for him she never would've done this to him I can't believe you would destroy a marriage like this" "oh because you care about the sanctity of marriage so much. remind me, when was the last time you spoke to Emily?" "don't you fucking DARE talk to me about Emily" )

-Dana decides Ok You Know What Fuck You I was a good person I didn't cheat I was willing to stick it out for our relationship and give you time to work your shit out but you clearly don't care about us so we are over. I have better options anyway.

-Dana files for divorce and dick and Dana start dating

- jack's misogynistic ass is so jealous cause YEAH he said he didn't wanna be in a relationship anymore and he was already moving on but that doesn't mean he wants HER moving on >:(

-Bruce calls him out on this bullshit and says she's a grown woman who can do whatever she wants and then he privately pulls dick aside and is like "you're not doing this. stop. you're making everything worse. plus she's a civilian. you can't. this is stupid. I know you're only doing it bc you're mad at me about the way I handled things with Jack so you're trying to cause drama to prove a point." and so dick is ofc like "GOD Bruce not everything is ABOUT you sometimes I have my OWN thoughts and feelings about things ever think about THAT huh?????" and like. yeah it's not ALL about that. they genuinely like each other. but this conversation does for sure make him want to date her even harder just to spite him.

-tim is fucking miserable because Jack and Bruce are mad at each other, Bruce and dick are mad at each other, jack and dana are mad at each other, and dick and Jack are mad at each other. The two pairs that aren't beefing are dick and Dana because they're currently in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, and Bruce and Dana because Dana blames Jack for the cheating, not Bruce, and Bruce blames dick for Dana and dick dating. because he's totally normal about when grown women make their own choices.

anyway how do we feel about this? I know it's A Lot and there's really no canon basis for Dick and Dana but honestly I just think it would be really really funny. I tried to be pretty accurate with Dana's characterization but also she isn't very centered in the narrative while Jack is alive so it's hard to make sure I'm getting it right. if anyone has any critiques about her please let me know, I don't wanna get her wrong

+ this tag from @starcrossedconverse

I think I agree, I think they almost definitely won't end up together because this is a Deeply Unhealthy basis for a relationship and they'll both eventually realize that. tysm for the input <333

[booksandabeer]

Thunderbolts Ramblings

Hi hey hello, I am back after a short self-imposed hiatus. Can I interest you in 2500 words of chaotic ramblings about the Thunderbolts movie? Fair warning: I only just saw it for the first time last night, so I'm still sorting through all my many, many thoughts. This is not a review or meta or anything really. I guess this is what people call A Reaction Post? Ew.

Maybe it's a little bit of everything.

First things first: I really enjoyed watching this movie. Yes, it is flawed. Yes, there are things that I would change, but it is a coherent and cohesive creative work that actually has ideas, features great performances, and that was obviously made with love and care—and that alone makes it easily the best thing the MCU has put out in years, and I'm glad I decided to go and see it in theaters.

(I will put the rest under a 'keep reading' for length and spoiler reasons)

TB is a good, very competently made movie that manages to be incredibly entertaining and funny, and at the same time takes its themes and characters seriously. It has great pacing and momentum, is tightly plotted (a lean 2 hours runtime; imagine that!), finds smart and organic ways to deliver exposition, and all the actors have great chemistry with each other. The score by Son Lux fucking slaps! Practical effects and stunts! Real locations! No 30-minute CGI slop battle at the end where the majority of the audience checks out after ten minutes and starts looking at their phones!

I have to say that for all the promo noise that was made in advance about how the movie was basically made by an all-star team of A24 below-the-line people, it is not able to shake the ugly-ass Marvel “house style” completely, but we get a sleeker, more stylish version of that dreaded flat grey aesthetic and it does actually work here because it makes sense within the context of the film’s plot and more importantly as a visual representation of its themes. The effect of the void looks extremely cool and scary—people actually gasped out loud in my theater when it took the little girl. (Honestly this was horrifying in the very best way because it interrupts a scene at the exact moment when I started to roll my eyes at the cheesiness of it all…and then it did THAT and HOLY SHIT.)   

Like I said above, this is a very funny film. It’s also a very sad one. It’s about sad, broken, lonely people and it deals with depression, isolation, and suicidal ideation in a way that is surprisingly nuanced. Could it be more nuanced? Of course. Is it at all subtle about its central metaphor? Absolutely not. But maybe let’s all calm the fuck down for a second here and remember that this is still a superhero movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and there are limits to what they can and are allowed to do within the narrative and commercial restraints of that world.

And honestly? The world is on fire right now and we are going through a real bleak fucking moment in time (to put it mildly), so I cannot find it in me to be a cynical asshole about a movie in which the Power of Friendship saves the world and evil is defeated via the most dramatic group hug in the history of ever. That said, while I loved this as the climax of the movie and the solution to the Bob/Void conflict, I wasn’t fully convinced as to how all of the characters actually got there. Yelena, sure. But that’s because they did some excellent character work to establish her connection with Bob, and it’s similarly very understandable why Alexei would follow her into the void immediately. But Ava? Walker?? And least of all, Bucky who has never even met Bob and just knows him as that weird Sentry dude with a bad bleach job and a suit that even Homelander would deem too tacky, and who, oh yeah, almost killed him literally five minutes ago? I don’t buy it.

And speaking of my pal, my buddy, my Bucky…I don’t really know what to say here, so let’s just get it over with. He’s barely in the movie. Seriously, it’s a CA:CW situation all over again. If you’ve watched the trailers then you’ve already seen 95% of his scenes. The remaining 5% of his screen time he pretty much spends standing around in the background making reaction faces. Look, I had no great hopes or expectations, so I’m not mad or even surprised at all, but I am still a little disappointed and, frankly, just confused as to what the thought process is here. I simply don’t understand what’s the deal with Mr. Baseball Cap and his Marvel Parliament (cannot believe I just typed that out, what a truly ridiculous & self-important name) continuing to refuse to give Bucky anything of substance to do in these projects. Just…why? You have this widely beloved character with so much juicy narrative potential, so much fascinating backstory to explore, whose own harrowingly traumatic journey makes him uniquely suited to the very story you’re trying to tell with this movie, AND you have a very popular and incredibly charismatic performer playing him who also just so happens to be riding an absolute career high at the moment…and you give him almost nothing meaningful to say or do? Why???

That said, every time he shows up and he actually gets A Moment? He’s fucking electric. I of all people shouldn’t be surprised by Sebastian Stan anymore and admittedly I am very biased—I’m not that far gone down the fangirl rabbit hole not to realize that—but it is truly wild how every time the camera is actually on him it’s like oh ok, hello, the movie star is here now, everybody else can shut up and melt into the background please. Every other actor just looks small by comparison (with Pugh being the only real exception). He brings both a razzle-dazzle and a gravitas to the role that feels completely at odds with the ridiculously little narrative weight that is afforded to his character. What a waste. No wonder Sebastian has seemed monosyllabic and quiet at best and listless and lowkey shady at worst during interviews. Because what really is there to talk about for him? Not much, really.

Let's just run through the other characters quickly because this already getting so long.

Yelena: Florence Pugh is the undisputed lead, and Yelena the beating heart of the movie. I love that she got such a central role here and got to show so many different facets of her character. She’s on fire. I don’t care how fucking cool and how checked out of the MCU you are (while simultaneously talking about nothing else and seeing this on opening weekend, lol), but if you seriously want to tell me that you don’t feel anything at all when she says “But I have so many [regrets]!” in a devastatingly tear-choked voice, then I think you’re either a liar or dead inside. I would also like to once again express my gratitude that they are dressing her in clothes that she can actually move and breathe and fight in. And guess what? She still looks unbelievably fucking hot. 

Ava: I’m not a big Ant-Man person (I’ve only seen the first two movies once and the little interest I had in the third one died the moment I saw that disastrous trailer), so I barely remembered her and therefore had no great expectations, but I liked her, I thought she was really interesting and a great counterweight to the more impulsive and abrasive Yelena. Hannah John-Kamen seems to be a graduate of that very particularly British School of Jaw-Acting. You know that kind of jaw-forward type of performing…very jaw-y…jaw-based? See also: Keira K., Hayley A., etc., you know the exact type of actress that people on this website keep insisting is somehow both uniquely and universally appealing to all bisexual women…and I just cannot confirm that. Sorry. Anyway, H J-K is good in the movie, I look forward to seeing her again and also congratulations to her agent for negotiating that special “with” billing in the end credits because…what. How? But hey, good for her.    

Bob: This is maybe unfair to the character, which is quite well-written, and to Lewis Pullman, who does a great job portraying the wildly different personalities (?) of Bob/Sentry/The Void and yet manages to hold on to an emotional throughline AND be endearingly funny at the same time, but all I could think about while watching this was that this guy is tailor-made (or, you know, genetically engineered…ha!) for the tumblr/AO3 whump girlies. The fanfic is going to be wild. Good character, good performance, GREAT decision to immediately depower him and therefore set him up for an “learning to control/balance your abilities with the darkness inside of you” arc in the next movie(s). Still, I will always wonder about what could've been if my beloved Steven Yeun hadn't had to drop out of the role.  

Alexei: I have very complicated feelings about this character. Objectively, he is an awful, awful person who has done terrible things to people—including the ones that he claims to love. Thanks to David Harbour, he’s also got a big boisterous personality, a striking physicality, and he’s legitimately and wildly hilarious. He made me laugh out loud multiple times! And yet, I cannot help but be very skeptical about this #GirlDadification of a character that literally trafficked human beings and was ultimately fine with handing his “daughters” over to an organization that enslaved them, mentally and physically abused them, groomed them to be child soldiers, forcibly sterilized them, and had them kill other little girls when, again, they were still children themselves. Idk, kind of makes the bile rise up in your throat while you’re still laughing at cute jokes about Wheaties boxes and pee wee soccer teams.      

Walker: Speaking of complicated characters…I have to say, I enjoyed him immensely in this movie. Which, mind you, is very much not the same as liking him. There’s already a lot of heated discourse about the character and if he deserves a redemption arc and whether or not he’s actually given one in this movie. I honestly neither understand the Walker stans who truly think he’s a poor little meow meow with a heart of gold and is really just misunderstood good guy nor his haters who are up in arms because they seem to think that the movie also genuinely believes that and portrays him as such. I think they’re both wrong and that the movie actually does a great job of showing that he’s a pathetic little asshole who blames everybody but himself for his failures and takes out his insecurities on other people that he perceives as weaker than him, while also not forgetting that he is still a human being worthy of some empathy. And bless Wyatt Russell for leaving behind any vanity and throwing himself into portraying this character as a deeply, deeply unpleasant person. Even his fighting style is ugly—all brute force and no finesse. The fact that any of the team members can stand to be in a room with this insufferable man for even just a few minutes without throwing a punch at him says much more about their humanity and innate goodness than it says about him and his supposed redeemability.        

Valentina: I realize that I’m probably the only person in the world who thinks so, but both Valentina as a character and Julia Louis-Dreyfus, as an actor, were the weak links for me in this movie. Despite having seen her appear in one tv show and two movies now, I still do not understand Valentina’s motivations in the slightest—there’s never any explanation given for why she does what she does or what she ultimately hopes to achieve with it (see also her assistant Mel, a complete non-character, whose reasons for working for her evil boss—and continuing to work for her even after she clearly recognizes her as evil and sort of kind of but not really "betrays" her to Bucky et al—are even more opaque). Valentina's shame-room scene only makes her less legible as a person and a villain, and except for one brief moment, she herself doesn’t seem to be bothered or affected by it at all, so I don’t even know why it was included. JLD did not work for me here, not because she isn’t a very talented actress, but because she’s simply miscast and/or misdirected. She clearly has a lot of fun dialing it up to eleven playing the hubristic comic book villain, but since all the other actors give performances that are at least to a certain degree grounded in an approximation of realism, she just comes across as tonally off and like she’s in a different movie than everyone else.    

Sidenote: I have to say that it did amuse me endlessly to see this awful woman who carelessly uses and abuses enhanced humans like they are little more than glorified dolls for her to play with under the guise of wanting to “protect the world” (lol) standing behind the bar of Avengers Tower pouring herself champagne in the very spot where a certain someone mixed his cocktails and monologued about his own greatness. Was this intentional? Honest-to-god lèse-majesté in an MCU movie? Please be serious, that’s never going to happen. But my god, did it make me cackle with glee!

Stray thoughts because omg this is so long:

If I was a Taskmaster/Antonia fan, I would be rioting in the streets right now. Why even bring her back if this is what you're going to do with her? I know the MCU iteration of the character wasn't exactly popular, but wow, to give her such an unceremonious and meaningless death was just mean, bordering on cruelty.

I was pleasantly surprised that aside from the dishwasher joke, the "disarming" Bucky scenes were handled sensitively and seriously. Yeah, sorry I just do not find disability jokes funny. Bonus points to Ava for immediately picking up Bucky's arm to return it to him.

I'm not going to touch the final end credits scene with a ten foot pole because the discourse about what happens in it and how a certain character is referenced/talked about is already absolutely bonkers unhinged in many different ways and I have no desire to wade into that. Folks are being real normal about it, that's for sure, and I would remind them that these are fictional characters, who cannot be blamed for stupid things they say or do or don't say or do. Blame the writers, directors, producers, executives, who are the ones who actually have agency and authority over what is shown and said on screen.

Ok, one thing about that scene because I was so distracted by it that I almost missed everything else: WHAT in the everloving 90s bodice ripper cover model hell is THAT HAIR??? I mean he looks good, because he always looks good, but wow. Yes, yes, I know most of you like that hair. It's fine. The new suit is badass though.

I have so many more things to say, but I will stop now. I'm not even sure if anybody will read this far, but hey thanks if you did and let me know what you thought of the movie.

Just to reiterate, in case this wasn't clear: I liked the movie. I liked it a lot, even. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to go shout from the rooftops that Marvel is so back!!! or something like that. But. This is a giant step in the right direction. More of this please.

[sillygoofyqueer]

AUGH AUGH AUGH AUGH [sounds of me dying the longer I go without writing about the mad scientist AU] Nie Huaisang has just received a message written in blood via a crow that does NOT look alive, likely from Wei Wuxian due to the reference of what his sect is like, similar to how he first approached Nie Huaisang with a message. He isn't quite sure what to do - he should go to his brother at least with this information, but he is very busy planning the war with Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang doesn't want to cause any more stress for them. So! He instead goes to Lan Wangji, who is, as always, helping out in the medical tents whenever he's not on the battlefield. Instead of saying anything that could draw attention to the situation, Nie Huaisang just waves him over and then shows off the yin filled - almost definitely dead - crow, before gesturing for them both to leave the medical tent. Lan Wangji goes without question.

Nie Huaisang shows him the message and is like "so uhh I'm pretty sure this is from Wei Wuxian." "Why is it written in blood?" "he's in the Burial Mounds, you can't expect him to have ink." Lan Wangji concedes this point, and wants to know why he is being told this, so Nie Huaisang explains that to have a batshit insane Wei Wuxian on their side would be very damn useful. Issue is, they need to find the Wen siblings and Xue Yang and get them to safety in order to get his support in the war, and Lan Wangji is great for field missions during this lull in the fighting. It's not like Nie Huaisang is going out!! He works best behind the scenes, after all.

Of course, Lan Wangji is more than desperate to make up for the mistakes he made by not attempting to help Wei Wuxian when he first had a chance to, so he goes out of his way to hunt for the Wen siblings and Xue Yang, chasing down information in a way that is basically like what he was doing during those three months in canon. He finally learns that they are in the supervisory office of Yiling, and goes on over there to collect them - and take back Yiling in the process. Yes, there is a thought of how close Wei Wuxian really was to his family all along, but it's overshadowed by the realisation that they need to explain to Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen what's been going on while they've been busy plotting and planning to save the Jianghu.

Lan Wangji makes the executive decision to bring it up during a meeting, and there is varying degrees of skepticism to the news. Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen are open to the chance of a changing tide in the war, plus they owe Wei Wuxian the protection of his family after they so carelessly overlooked him before he was thrown into the Burial Mounds. Jin Zixuan is like "I said right from the start that he was brainwashed, but nobody believed me!" so he's willing to take the risk of harbouring three wen associates if it means being proven right through the powerhouse that could be Wei Wuxian. (I should explain that they believe that he must be pretty powerful right now because one, he's actually survived in the Burial Mounds, and two, he's had previous work with resentful energy, he had to be getting up to some kind of work in the hellsite.)

Jiang Fengmian is like "I don't know all that much about him, but he did save Jiang Cheng's life, and he's the son of my bestie" but Yu Ziyuan (who is obviously there because why wouldn't she be) is NOT having it. Why would she? She's a hater. She's saying all sorts of insults n shit, but Lan Wangji basically left the moment he got assent from all of the actual sect leaders, so it's all for naught in the end. Lan Wangji is too busy showing up to the supervisory office in Yiling with a small group of soldiers, kicking ass and taking names like there's no tomorrow. Xue Yang, who is quite rabid at the moment, is watching the carnage and being like "I'm going to fucking kill anyone who touches Wei-gege's notes" while Wen Ning and Wen Qing are getting ready to escape. Lan Wangji catches them in the act but is like "we're here to help" and shows them the note that the crows sent.

The lads (Wen siblings + Xue Yang) realise that Wei Ying is alive and go through so many different emotions but they don't have time to unpack all of them - Xue Yang wants to go into the Burial Mounds himself to collect Wei Ying, but Wen Qing shuts that down. They don't know how Wei Ying survived, and they have no clue if Xue Yang would survive. It's best to just let Wei Ying come back to them, like a stray puppy. Xue Yang does not like this, so Wen Qing instead gets him with a needle and Wen Ning carries him along, used to this turn of events. (Yes I have decided that Wen Ning is the shy but sweet brawns to his older sister's brains. He's not not smart or anything, I just think it'd be neat.)

Meanwhile, the crows are watching all around because they're in Yiling, and they report back to an anxiously awaiting Wei Ying, who has been pre-emptively gathering an army of resentful spirits who could find closure in fighting and violence and death. He's helping them all be chill through a gentle melody session, and the Burial Mounds is dragging more spirits into Its grounds to help out Its precious son! Wei Ying learns that his family is not only alive but close to him, and is simultaneously kicking himself while also thanking the Gods that they are alive and they're going to be safe in the grasps of the Sunshot Campaign. With that knowledge handed to him, he feels a lot calmer as he squares his shoulders, pushing all the pain to the side and focusing on the army of resentful spirits he has created.

Oh, the Wen won't know what hit them.

[sturniolo04]

can you make a fic where chris and reader are making out and her braces cut his lip, then later on nick and matt ask what happened to his lip and he says braces and they realize what happened and it’s a funny moment t

A/n:  ofc!! I absolutely love these requests I have coming in, you guys are amazing!! I hope you love it! And remember to leave requests in my inbox! If you don’t like the pre added name in my works you can simply put in your own or don’t read it, it up to you :)-Charli

dividers: @issysh3ll

Your biggest fear you thought with your braces was simply the fact that people might not like you with them on like they would make your appearance worse and not better. You were already a pretty nice looking girl. You were definitely Chris' type so it was inevitable he was going to ask you out. So here you two are have been dating for 5 months and you two also spent every waking minute together really making out mostly.

You not sure how it happened all you knew was this was new fear you unlocked within this moment.

You were currently in your favorite spot which was on top of chris straddling him as you two were fixated on the heated makeout that sparked between you two in the moment. Chris' hands firmly gripping your hips to rock against his hips creating the friction his body was aching for.

You two must have gotten too into it you didn't realize you braces got caught on his lip completely cutting him.

"ow shit"

chris groans out pulling his head away from you breaking the makeout you two were having causing you to look at him confused.

"what what happened"

you ask not seeing that you had cut his lip because he was covering it with his hand.

"oh no im so sorry chris"

you gasp out covering your mouth feeling bad once you finally realized the cut left on his lip.

"is it bad"

chris asks you reaching for his phone to look at it in his camera app. Chris really didn't show any sign of pain but you still felt incredible bad.

"i mean no but thats going to take a minute to heal"

you sigh out as chris chuckles at how bad you felt about it.

"thats okay youre okay im okay"

chris reassures you chuckling rubbing soft circles on your hips.

"dude what the fuck happened to your lip"

matt chuckling noticing it first as chris came over and sat at the kitchen table across from them.

"oh my gosh"

nick gasps out finally noticing it.

"its nothing just a little accident involving someones braces"

chris chuckles out giving slight side eye as you were standing in the kitchen looking defeated with your blue stanley cup in your hands. Matt and Nick immediately start laughing.

"stopp i feel bad enough already"

you whine out truly feeling that way about the whole situation.

"its fine baby i told you"

chris replies back to you reassuring you once again.

"its kind of funny if you think about it"

matt chuckles out as you roll your eyes as everyone laughs about it.

Taglist🗂️

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333

@stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @ksturnz @chaoswithus @emely9274 @ivysturnss @sturniolo-szn2 @lezleeferguson-120 @courta13 @chrepsi @lyingonchris

@tezzzzzzzz @babytomatoes21 @sturniolosymphony @zenithsturniolo @bernardsbendystraws @sturnioloslut101

[squireofgeekdom]

Oh no. Don't let me start plotting out a Leverage Redemption / Moon Knight crossover. I don't need more wips. Help.

[arolesbianism]

Finally fixating on some nugget relationships that aren't horrible for everyone I love friendship <3

[michi-chelle]

the organization haru from no thank you!!! works for is the same one behind the antics of room no. 9, change my mind

[narwhalandchill]

okok so ya know that post i mentioned i was writing on some of the harbinger related leaks that cropped up recently and then mobile fucked me over by publishing the post early by gaslighting me with a "post" button that Clearly read "save" (draft) so i deleted it but managed to rescue the text that was there and promised to finish it and post it later and then its been 12 years anyway? yeah right 😭 Oh well.

BUT. finally. might as well do the thing now in honor of childes bday at the very least KJWJKWDJK. sorry it took this long lmao

jsyk these leaks predate our current natlan beta datamines and some of the questionable story leaks floating around so like, natlan plot wise they dont have shit to do w em there & not bringing up any that ive seen. but ya

(so . attempt 2: recent lazzo VA character direction leaks for the harbingers mostly in relation to childes role in the overall plot. bit ranty and gets Long but idek what yall expected. + ig just potential long term plot implications from these leaks given its the harbingers beware)

aka: mostly concerning the faction stuff + pulcinellas directions for now . if u havent seen em uhhhh

basically tldr: according to (and assuming its not outdated) some information accessed by leakers recently originally provided for the VAs applying to voice the harbingers in lazzo, the group is allegedly split between two factions of "conservatives" and "radicals" . like thats the first thing

now as to what those labels rly mean ppl were overall speculating that it might be sth along the lines of. conservatives as the tsaritsa loyalists who stand united and for the organization and her majestys goals above all (OR alternatively just like. a more cautious take on How to approach the toppling celestia deal) VS those whose true ambitions, loyalty and methods they are willing to turn to are more of a wild card situation . and their allegiances are equally volatile in turn . & i will say imo the radicals are also most likely much less of an united group compared to the conservatives given uhhhhhhh. well you will see

so conservatives are: capitano, columbina, pulcinella, sandrone

radicals are: dottore, arle (see the "radicals might not like each other that much"), pantalone

pierro is neutral, childe is unknown/undecided according to the leaks HOWEVER. his positioning next to the radicals in the shot of lazzo with the harbingers standing around signoras coffin split along those same faction lines found in the leaks may indeed suggest something Interesting regarding his penultimate choice . if it Indeed is intended to be meaningful that he as an "unknown" just happened to take That side of the coffin alongside the 3 confirmed radicals according to this info . like how Curious

And i just. okay okay i have to be Honest theres like. SUCH a toxic childish taking-fandom-grievances-too-seriously part to me eyeing the possibility of ajax turning out to be a radical thats just like. dawei lets this happen and i WILL be the WORLDS most obnoxious fucking bitch about it bc . Listen

i. Have. ALWAYS. thought it obvious as FUCK . that a guy whose ambition WILL NOT stop until it is the very WORLD that lies defeated at his feet. will NEVER be satiated by what the fatui can offer him . like if he really is a radical. i can CONFIDENTLY state that i saw that shit coming in TWENTY FUCKING TWENTY and that Every single doubter owes me So much fucking money 💀💀💀💀💀💀 jkjk but. Duuuude. ever since this faction stuff dropped.... i cant stop thinking abt it

like i just. cannot stand the way its been turned into this . INDOMITABLE 100% factual absolute Truth that CANNOT be challenged. in the fandom. that childe is a tsaritsa fanboy loyalist devout worshipper who couldnt even fuckimg FATHOM leaving his allegiance to her behind . when its been . SPELLED OUT to yall in his fucking profile SINCE 1.1 .

bc like. Listen up. Repeat after me. ik its scary and new after 4 years of Exclusively hearing takes where like childe would rather spontaneously combust to the beat of snezhnayas national anthem while begging for repentance than ever stop taking orders from uhhhh a god. Who he definitely worships devoutly as a god despite 0 evidence on any religious piety on his part Trust (like. ive. Always thought his voiceline for her has been the opposite? its very much. Not how youd speak of divinity. his regard for her is Personal and relates to the tsaritsa as an individual, not a god inherently deserving of worship)

like ik this is a big thing and scary but just. Say the words with me here. It only stings once .deep breaths. okay 1 2 3

"But becoming Tartaglia was far from his end goal. To someone who sought to conquer the world, this was but a tiny step in his journey."

YUP.

BECOMING TARTAGLIA. BECOMING A HARBINGER. SWEARING AN OATH OF LOYALTY TO THE TSARITSA. A TINY. STEP. A TINY FUCKING STEP. AND HES BEEN AWARE OF IT BEING LIKE THIS THE ENTIRE TIME.

THIS HAS BEEN TEXT FOUND IN GAME THERE FOR NEARLY FOUR FUCKING YEARS NOW . AND PPL STILL THINK AJAX ISNT CAPABLE OF SURPASSING AND ABANDONING THE TSARITSA THE SECOND THE BENEFITS THEY OFFER HIM FALL SHORT OF THE EXPONENTIAL GROWTH OF HIS POWER AND AMBITION AND WHAT IT TAKES TO SATIATE HIM .

like im SORRY contrary to maybe popular belief and despite my persistent frustrations w this fandoms approach to ajax sometimes i Do in fact feel actively mean and unreasonably harsh calling 97% of childe "fans" functionally illiterate or at the very least intentionally obtuse to the point its beyond fucking parody in how ridiculous it gets but like. if THIS isnt what a complete and utter failure of basic reading comprehension is I DONT KNOW WHAT IS . like. DUDE 😭😭😭😭😭😭 what IS IT with these people its like genuinely fucking incomprehensible to me how CRITICAL shit about his character like this goes COMPLETELY ignored as if it hasnt been established since Day fucking one its unreal . Unreal 💀

and like. i get bitchy and snappy abt it i know its not the best look always but man its sth thats genuinely upsetting to me too bc . THIS is the fucking dude thats possessed me for the last 4 years THIS is what i love about him his potential to surpass Every Single Boundary that he has begun his journey confided within. that he will transcend it all and surpass his own limits with sheer fucking willpower over and over again until even the few he truly idolized and respected like the tsaritsa and capitano are suddenly so distant and irrelevant compared to the heights He has reached out for in his hunger....... its so peak like THIS is whats had me in a death grip for all this time

and like. for THAT guy that mr childe ajax tartaglia the REAL thing to barely even. Exist. in the minds of such a majority of the fandom its just fucking crushing sometimes. like i wanna appreciate all this abt him man i wanna share all my brainrot abt him and how this dude consumes my every waking thought but then borderline every single comment i see and popular take on him is just oh my pookie wookie babie girl would Never be able to betray tsaritsa ever etc etc etc and just.... Sigh

anyway overshare over sorry for that. yeah my ADHD makes me irrationally attached to my hyperfixations its kinda cringe .

do catch me kissing this man on the mouth Immediately the second his ambition surpasses the fatui and he goes beast mode fr fr on Everyone tho 🥰🥰 dyke license lost forever but itll be worth it

also real talk im like fairly convinced at least like 78% of the omgggg hes forever loyal to the tsaritsa gang are mostly like stuck in this mindset of like. omgggg hed Never Betray Her bc he doesnt like those who break promises uwu and its like. since when did the possibility of ajax outgrowing the stage where the fatui offer him anything worthwhile automatically equate to him betraying her wholesale and completely dropping any and all respect he had for her or sth. like yeah i do agree to an extent that it could end up p uncharacteristic (at least w/o proper plot setup or reasoning) for him to pull off like a complete disney twist villain backstab out of nowhere there but??? thats not rly whats going to automatically happen either???

(nvm that like a considerable portion of these same ppl were prolly writing "omgg ajax my poor victim MUST betray the evil tsaritsa" fics in 1.1 when everyone had the idea in their heads that he hates his job and is only doing it bc his family is held hostage and is also 17 bc of certified english localization moment. but i digress this is just unreasonably petty and im being a loser by not letting this shit go 2 this day💀💀)

bc like. if you ask me. the Interesting thing abt ajax and the possibility of being a radical IS that if hes going to refuse to follow an order or step out of line to follow his own path however it goes. its Not going to be personal. its not gonna be this big dramatic edgelord turncoat villainous moment to him. itll be straightforward. matter of fact. easy as breathing. because if he has moved past each and every benefit the fatui can even fathom offering him. its only natural that he progresses beyond them. thats just how his unquenchable ambition Works. how his black hole of a never-ending desire to devour and crush all in his path operates. its not personal. its not something you can change. its inevitable. he is a force of nature when it comes to the drive burning at the core of his soul.

like i Really dont think hes ever going to backstab the tsaritsa in some dirty play fashion??? if anything its only fitting that hes going to look her In the eye and go. oh my bad. i dont think our agreement serving a mutual benefit really holds ground anymore. apologies. like ofc its going to be something he handles while staying true to the person hes been all this time. kind of a bad guy and perfectly willing to own up to it. selfish and arrogant and with his sights set steadfast on a goal No one will get him to sway from.

and then he elopes with the narwh-------------- yes kill me

basically i just. dont get this whole perceived and persistent incompatibility between the idea of. ajax being a radical (whatever that ends up meaning in the story. IF these lazzo materials remain accurate) yet remaing the same guy we know and love. like guys. ARLE. is a radical. and has all but directly confessed to considering the survival of the house her greatest priority over any loyalty to the fatui and her majesty. yet she STILL regards her with respect and continues to fulfill her duties as a harbinger as expected for the time being. despite her full awareness of this loyalty being on shakier ground and surely making contingencies on the side for the future for When she sees it is time for her organization to sever the ties to the tsaritsa.

like Thats what i mean when i say its always been completely reasonable and even predictable to me that ajax would outgrow the fatui and how that has jack shit to do with his character suddenly doing some wild 180 in order to do so. and why this potentially significant visual alignment he has with the radicals in lazzo isnt surprising at all. bc if it doesnt fundamentally change who arle is (and doesnt make her a dottore fan) that she is ultimately someone whose loyalty to the organization comes second to her house. why would childe be any different lmao.

but like yes if he turns out to be a radical i will be soooooo obnoxious over it jkwjkawdjkwajkwdakjwdjkwdjkdwjk bc like im NOT lying this has been one of the Clearest trajectories ive expected from his arc All This Time . no matter which form it might eventually take in terms of. is it him and His growth initiating the split. or is it a betrayal from or a loss of faith in the tsaritsa herself that kickstarts it. if its canon? yeah i Saw that shit coming and you should all be scared of who ill become if dawei proves me right Again ill be the Worst

Phew that sure went way overboard but yes radical ajax advocacy group in here 100% . and overall even tho i mostly care abt him i Do think this faction split is inherently v fucking interesting and ajax being unknown is just. i wonder if itll end up being significant at some critical moment that his faction leanings are unknown slash undefined at the moment............... where the scales are about to tip and its by his hand that some key moment gets its turning point......... hmmmmmmm

(also its just. before these leaks we got "columbina is conservative" as an out of context statement Before the faction stuff and its still so fucking funny bc ppl were just like. wow i cant believe shes homophobic)

now. pulcinella time

so among the VA direction cards that leaked was his. and like if u didnt see them urself (not gonna post any here. hoyo lawyers love striking Any hoyo copyrighted media in all posts that have leaks in em even if its not an actual leak which this is lol) the setup is basically. theres a few overall notes on each of the harbingers like age, demeanor, characterization and then 3 sample lines of dialogue as well as notes further elaborating when & why this is being said and with what sort of vibe.

and his are. Well. you know how i started this post out being like on god dawei if you go and fatten my ego any further by Specifically vindicating me myself and i & the kinda things id prefer in genshins story and childes role going forward . Personally????

Anyway funny thing as it happens. IF (and admittedly thats a major if.) this VA direction doc from pulcinella holds up. and there isnt like a hidden scheming menacing side to him that wasnt brought up in the lazzo files. in that case . it sure is looking like pulcinella is just. a bit over the top in public but privately genuinely an overworked well-meaning pragmatic guy who deeply cares for and is truly protective of those important to him. INCLUDING. yes you know who and his family. NOTHING in the doc whatsoever implying anything sinister to it. nor wrt pulcinellas character overall.

and i just. nothing personal to scara fans yall are cool and ur guy is too i just simply. Cannot. guys can you IMAGINE being so much of an edgelord cynical embarrassment puppetfailure that ur own mommy issues make you physically incapable of Not assuming the worst of pulcinella caring for childes family leading to YEARS of ppl being CONVINCED hes gonna be this major fucking villain for ajax in the snezhnaya arc i . LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(my scara liker indulgence Ends the second hat guy speaks shit abt My man if you havent noticed. yeah WHO called who naive and stupid???)

like. if the Plot twist in the snezhnaya arc is setting pulcinella up to be this ominous figure that has ulterior motives w childes family and him overall????? only for him to be just. genuinely well-intentioned. oh my fucking god PLEASE let it happen PLEASE bc the entire concept of that whole plotline existing without said plot twist is just soooooo bland and fucking boring to me lol subverting it is just chef kiss

& sure this leak is. very limited in scope it doesnt automatically eliminate pulcinella manipulating childe and/or limiting what information he gets and all. and i genuinely have made my peace with the probable existence of this plot thread w arles SQ already before this whole thing happened but MAN ill be SO fucking happy if this means they might abandon/subvert it altogether like. let him just have a nice supportive mentor figure in his life in the fatui man 😭😭😭

pulcinella if u really just are a nice person ultimately. you TRULY are my goat o777 saving my man from bland family-is-hostage-waa storylines i have Such respect

anyway u could say its not possible for pulcinella to be like. fully a good guy since arles SQ already showcased him being unreliable w information regarding arle but honestly. i kinda disagree. bc like Especially with the faction thing in mind its not unreasonable at all in my eyes that given the Facts of what peruere did. that pulcinella despite not being this scheming schemer brainwashing ajax or whatever. would Genuinely hold a very negative opinion of arlecchino. and convey that to childe. bc like. pulcinella as stated above is in the conservative side of the harbingers. and arlecchino to the outside eyes rly did like. murder a harbinger and her own "mother" and siblings of the house. like do we even know that the harbingers are Aware of how crucabena ran her hunger games death tournament situation to begin with? and Why peruere killed her????

like. if we assume pulcinella doesnt know those things. and that crucabena in all likelihood was if nothing else then presumably a harbinger that was very loyal to the tsaritsa and very consistent. then from that position. of COURSE. youd consider arle a complete downgrade in terms of reliability . she IS a wild card she IS not someone a careful politician like pulcinella would regard highly At All. So like. i dont think when he gives childe the impression that arle is batshit insane and tells him of her (VERY REAL) murderous deeds. i dont think that would automatically equate to pulcinella Knowingly lying and misleading ajax . bc it seems fairly reasonable that pulcinella just genuinely thinks that lowly of her and thus would OBVIOUSLY want his protege not to involve himself with such people.

bc like thats the other thing. its not just arle. in pulcinellas VA notes and the line he has on ajax there. its very clear that he is actively trying to keep him away and shield him from ALL the harbingers . as he still has to mature and grow into someone who will have a chance at gaining their respect proper on his own. so like. if pulcinella thinks its best for ajax to remain away EVEN from the harbingers he himself considers GOOD to NEUTRAL influences and reliable colleagues. of COURSE hed make Extra sure that ajax is staying away from the knave whom pulcinella Actively considers a shitty fit for the job and an unreliable flight risk of a harbinger 💀💀💀💀

(nvm the way arle actively BOTH confirms pulcinellas distrust to be justified by saying the tsaritsa isnt a priority to her and the house is AND actively admits that he prefers other people believe misleading shit about her. so like fym pulcinella thinking the worst of her is surprising)

so like is pulcinellas pov of her at best Highly biased and lacking critical context on Why she merked so many of her sibs and crucabena??? and thus served as an inherently misleading insight on her character when he conveyed it to ajax??? absolutely. but i also dont think hes necessarily lying at all when it comes to perceiving arle in such a negative way so its less. oh i want ajax to remain in the dark forever so he is easy 2 manipulate. more just. thats his Opinion dude and ofc he wants his protege to follow in his stead and not get any poor influences from people like her. it still makes for interesting development & possible tension that childe Is questioning his views on things by making his own judgements about arle but. ya know. its not black and white.

but yeaaaa to be clear me vastly preferring the possibility of scara just being a cringelord unreliable narrator and this whole pulcinella-is-masterminding-dubious-things getting subverted & hes just a guy is just a personal thing lmao. this is pretty old material and far from all-encompassing in terms of Who hoyo wants pulcinellas character to be and all the layers he might hide. im just really 👁️👁️👁️ at the way this particular description of his character seems to be giving off vibes that they in fact Arent actually going all the way into the ulterior motives bad bad ajax watch out pulcinella and its just. listen theres way more interesting shit for ajax to be doing in the endgame plot than some generic plot like that!!!!!!!11! sorry!!!1 so id 1000% want it this way instead lmao

but we shall see where it goes. at the very least if this desc of pulcinella holds Any ground at all then it does disqualify the most extreme version of hes just basically evil manipulator mastermind so like. im already super happy with that lmao

but ya . sorry this took me forever to actually finish jwjkwdjkawjkwd these leaks r kinda old news by now rip .

[fullmetalfisting]

So back when I was a senior in undergrad, my partner went through, like, the craziest nervous breakdown I'd ever witnessed in my life. And like, maybe it makes me a back girlfriend or whatever but I was kind of like, "I'm gonna mind my own business on this one."

So my partner gets super close to two other students in his program. He was a film student so his senior year was being capped off by him making a movie. He decides he's going to make a movie about him turning into a salmon. He gets crazy into it. He starts eating salmon for every meal. He buys a bunch of salmon-related stuff. We found a T-shirt at Goodwill with a salmon on it and he thought it was divine intervention that he was doing the right thing. He walks into the freezing-cold Puget sound fully clothed several times to "get into it." He watches videos of salmon spawning and is like, "Nothing is more poignant than this." He gets a tattoo of three salmon on his arm.

The entire time the two students he got really close to are fully enabling him. It's a folie á trois sort of situation. They're out until six in the morning doing creepy art school shit and encouraging his (possibly no longer fictional) desire to become a salmon. My partner has an answer for everything. "Salmon get eaten by bears," I say. "That's a cool as fuck way to die," he says blithely. "And Salmon are free of the yoke of capitalism."

And if I dared to say, Hey, this is....getting a little odd..., he would throw a full-scale tantrum. I'm not supporting his dream (I wasn't sure at this point if it was his dream to be a filmmaker or his dream to become a salmon). I'm basically like, okay. Be a salmon! Fuck!

We had been dating for five years at this point and this behavior was such a left turn that I just decided to ignore it. And then after all that he basically went back to normal after graduation. Sometimes he'll be like, "That was weird, huh?" and has nothing more to say on the matter.

[kismetlotts]

cw: money kink? Simon is obsessed, Simon loves you spending his money and giving you money, strangers online, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral sex, reader streams and goes live a lot, mentions of poor financial situation, Simon yearns, controlling, reader starts an OnlyFans, jealous Simon Riley, mentions of the name 'Daddy'

Simon Riley who barley uses social media and doesn't understand it well. He supposes he’s never really had a proper reason to. Sometimes he would check up on his teammates private lives, see how they are doing when they are away and off duty; sometimes he could be caught watching the odd dog meme video that pops up- earning a small, slither of a smile from the scarred stoic man.

But honestly, he’s never had a reason to bother, no account profile picture or bio and a randomly generated username he wouldn't know how to change even if he wanted to. Most of the time he would have two or three followers and always one of them was someone he had no idea of.

He never had a reason to give a shit about the online world, not until he saw you.

Sat at your desk, eyes sparkling under your warm ceiling light. Eagerly reading the chat-box at the bottom of your stream as you answered peoples questions with genuine interest. Your smile made his chest burn hot and his eyes caught notice of your fingers fidgeting with your hair. You were stunning, absolutely fucking breathtaking and Simon couldn't get enough; he needed you.

He would join every single live, not messaging or saying anything to you but just watching and suffocating in silence. He wouldn't miss the way you licked your lips wet and chewed on your lower lip as you waited for more people to join. If it wasn't for his expertise in self control he would've been fisting his cock to the sight of you.

He would have you full blast on his phone as he pottered around his house, your angelic voice singing out words of ecstasy through the cold empty walls like you were there with him. His precious little sweetheart, living with him in his head and in his home. Who would've thought a stranger like you could mess someone like Simon up this fucking badly?

He learnt things about you, jotting them down in the notebook of his brain. Learnt the places you wanted to travel to and experiences you wanted to live- and found himself wanting to be beside you: witnessing it first hand. He found himself for the first time in years wanting to live and not just survive.

Despite his toll of silence, you didn't miss the way he was always there. Checking the viewer count to see his account right at the top as per usual. Time didn't seem to matter either, when you had woken up at early in the morning and decided to go live out of boredom- he was there. In the middle of the day when you were on your lunch break, ragged looking earphones trailing out your ear as you whispered into the microphone at the back of the café, he was there watching. He was always there and it felt strange.

In honesty, his consistency petrified you. You knew it was all in your head but the nagging feeling that it was one of your fucked up, clingy exes, still keeping tabs on you despite going your separate ways, made you sick. Hoping was all you could ever do because you wouldn't dream of confronting the mysterious account that was watching, lingering and following you every second your phone was powered on. It was highly unlikely to be anyone you knew and you weren't entirely sure if that was for better or worse.

When your first couple of donations rolled in, you didn't know what to say. Smiling and thanking the donators by name as your cheeks heated up.

You never asked for money or pleaded for donations; the option was always there if people wanted to. You certainly weren't going to beg or come across as a 'money hungry' but some extra cash on the side was definitely not a bad idea. The fact that people were so generous and kind to donating pennies and pieces to help reach the goal of buying your own place. It wasn't much people were sending in but every little help strangers would accompany you with, made you realise the world wasn't so selfish after all: and when Simon noticed this. He reached for his card.

Hundreds, multiple hundreds and it was just a ridiculous amount of money that piled in from his account. It was the first time you had seen him interact with you aside from liking your content or watching your streams- what the fuck were you supposed to say? Your eyes would lock onto the screen, mouth slightly agape revealing your wet tongue as you tried to find the words. Simon fucking groaned.

The blank, grey profile picture looked back at you with numbers you couldn't comprehend attached to it. Simon was helping you tremendously and despite your gratefulness you couldn't help but end your stream- guilt surfacing in your throat because that was a lot of money to be handing away to a stranger. It felt rude taking it, you were scared to take it- it felt like borrowed money not gifted money because who sends someone that amount of cash. Who in their right fucking mind?

The worst part was he didn't stop there- in honesty, watching how fogged your mind got and watching the way you struggled for words- he couldn't find himself able to stop. It was a high for him, he wanted to give you everything you wanted.

He would crack his neck, a moan falling from his lips as he clicked on your live with a grin. Adrenaline fuelling his body as he sent more, and more, and more until he heard the shake in your voice. 'Stop' falling from your lips between nervous giggles and he knew you meant it, feeling his heart ricochet in his chest but still, he continued.

The mental aspect of the situation had led you to taking a short break off of streaming, you were sure he wasn't some crazy ex from the amount of money he had given you and the realisation it was some random stranger always being there instead, didn't make you as uncomfortable as you thought it would've. He was probably some old man with a fetish for seeing some girl like you everyday and spoiling you. The worst case scenario was that he could be a stalker or a murderer who had taken a liking into you- but even then you were highly careful of what you let slip online and who could be out there.

It was difficult, you wanted him to leave as much as you wanted him to stay- you couldn't block him after he had spent all that money on you and as much as you wished he wouldn’t have done that: it was very helpful.

A good few weeks had past since you had uploaded and you figured that he would be onto some other girl by now. Splashing the cash for some supermodel look alike as he whispers into her microphone things that drive men wild. But of course that wasn't the case.

Simon was going fucking haywire. He couldn't sleep without hearing your muffled little voice in his dreams, your sleeping little face and messed up hair with your tantalisingly lowcut pyjamas, where were you? Where had you disappeared to? He would check your account religiously, just in case you posted and his notification didn't go off. He had googled ways to tell if he had been blocked- but the reality of the situation was that you had just became inactive.

It made his lungs ache and knees weak without hearing your voice daily- just old videos he had re-watched over and over again. Your absence worried him and it worried himself with how badly he was getting attached to you. His days felt like months, his strong demeanour replaced by one that was moping and mourning. Jesus- you weren't fucking dead. If you were fucking dead he would ruin whatever stole you from him. Was this stalker like behaviour? Was he being a fucking loser for worrying about you?

Upon your return you had decided to create a dreaded OnlyFans account. It was just to raise money and you weren't expecting to blow up into some massive porn star earing millions from sex work- you kept it pretty downlow. It was as much humiliating as it was necessary- without Simon there to send you hundreds of pounds, you needed the extra pay for groceries and rent money. Plus- it seemed everyone your age was doing it so what was the harm? You uploaded a quick video to promote your new account, posted it and sat down at your one seat table.

The cold of the wooden chair hitting your thighs and the dim lights of your kitchen made you realise how tiny your apartment was. Even for one person you felt like you were incarcerated- stuck in a prison cell but you couldn't afford to leave yet. The sound of your swallow echoing into the silence as you finished up your instant ramen- humming in satisfaction as your phone hummed to. You picked it up, your stomach turning cold as a message request came through.

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account?

Simon was fucking seething. Posting your tits- your body, that little mouth of yours sucking on objects that weren't his cock for other men to see? For other men to pay for? He almost cracked his phone when he opened your notification to that and he would've if it wasn't for his urgency to get you to delete your account. He had heard of OnlyFans, he wasn't daft and you were coming off there whether you liked it or not.

Your heart stuttered seeing the familiar account and a scoff of shock fell from your lips. He hadn't forgotten you after all. The mysterious account had finally broke his silence and your stomach fluttered with feeling you couldn't make sense of. He hadn't moved on from you, he couldn't move on from you- should you be weirded out by this?

Sorry?

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account. Now?

The pulse in your vein throbbed as you finally made sense of his question. The giddy feeling from earlier at the realisation he was waiting for you, subsided into thick strings of anxiety. Hypothetically, if you had run your account on there for a good few months, posting regularly and having a handful of subscribers- you would bring home a good portion of money to save up. You couldn't ask him for a lot of money- especially after all the money he had already gave but you couldn't delete your account for little to nothing. So, you took the time to nicely write back to him and explain your financial situation to him. Explaining how you need to money to help save for a future house- that you need food and necessities and that your shitty job doesn't pay you enough.

The chat fell silent, Simon began to type and then stopped- disappearing and you shut your phone off worried you had either overshared and accidently unloaded everything onto him or upset him.

I mean- you didn't owe him anything- he donated all that money to you on his behalf but you couldn't help the niggling feeling of regret and shame that you had offended someone so nice that had done so much for you. You told yourself that he was still probably some creep, some fucked up pervert that probably only watched for one thing. But if that was the case, why would he be against your OnlyFans? Maybe you read him wrong- or maybe he wanted you all for himself.

You felt your phone ping again, opening the chat to a payment of multiple thousands.

This your spending money for food and whatever else you want. And I can buy you a house darling, don't you worry.

The high numbers full your screen and you blinked. Your head unable to comprehend if this was real or not. A whole house? Spending money? Was this guy fucking rich? He obviously had money to give away willingly so there was no doubt he was rich. But still though, did he not have a family to spend this money on- or anything better to do with it? Without properly thinking you typed back your response, sitting back on your chair as your eyes darted around your small apartment. Was he deadly serious about buying you a house?- Who were you kidding, of course he was serious.

Are you a sugar daddy or something?

Simons concrete façade broke as he snorted, reading your message. Imagining your sweet, pretty, intoxicating voice reading it out to him while he melts and loses himself in you. He should just send you his card and bank details- he should just send you all of his fucking money and spoil you absolutely rotten. He would give you anything you wanted- he would let you walk all over him and drain his fucking account. The thought of you all dolled up, new shoes, new clothes, new perfume. The thought of you comfortable, clean and fed- fuck he had never felt this horny and desperate before. He fisted his cock through his jeans as he sat up on his couch, stretching and adjusting a little before looking back down at the message. Fingers typing back a reply before plopping his phone down beside him.

Not a sugar daddy, I just like your smile, Sunshine.

But if you really wanted to call me daddy, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

[murderofravens]

DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

part: 1/3 [finished]

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you previously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you two. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”