#and even if you DO it it’s not even worth it

[theorist-fox]

Bug

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Crossposted on AO3

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Johnny eats you out in front of an audience.

18+

CW: smut (cunnilingus, masturbation, some sexual fantasizing, brief dubcon turning into enthusiastic consent), a bit kinky (voyeurism, exhibitionism) fluffy? sort of, pwp. Soap/Reader established relationship + Simon joining the party I guess

Masterlist 🦊

Your toes are cold. So cold that you think your body might never recover, that maybe you’re bound to be a corpse for the rest of your life.

Dramatic, you’re aware.

And Johnny is so delightfully there, isn’t he? On his side of the bed, in a deep slumber. He’s a heavy sleeper too, so you’re sure you could start sighing and coughing in subtle discomfort and he wouldn’t budge. 

You know his senses are perked when he’s on duty, and you’re glad to know he feels safe enough in the four walls of your home that he turns those alarm bells off.

But goddamnit, now would be a fantastic time to cuddle up. Wonderful to have those thick arms wrapped around your shoulders, his chest to your back. Pressed tight, until the coarse hairs on his abdomen would start to tickle and then scratch a little.

Clicked in place like two puzzle pieces, you’d be, with his knees tucked in the folds of yours, and your ass snug perfectly into his crotch.

And then you’d start rolling your hips slightly. You’d crane your neck back to meet his face, and you know he’d nuzzle your nape for all it’s worth. Sniffing the shampoo in your hair, burying his face until his nose would meet your skin. 

His kisses would be unhurried but open, slow but voracious. They’d make goosebumps sprout from your neck to your thighs, and you’d drench your knickers in the blink of an eye.

By then, his cock would have grown hard against the swell of your ass.

He’d hook his thumbs at the waistband of your pants. Slide his cock through your folds, already wet but now they’d be even more soaked with his prec—

Great.

Now you’re horny. Horny and freezing and frustrated.

Unable to sleep because you’re cold and Johnny forgot to call the plumber for the heating—leaky radiators, a boiler that's been fussing for the past couple of days. Not even taking a shower is safe anymore, for fuck's sake. 

Unable to sleep because you’re dreaming about your boyfriend fucking you into the mattress. Fucking the ice cold seeping into your bones right out of your body, melting it into delicious sweat.

Alas, unable to fuck, because his mate is sleeping on the sofa, and the walls of this stupid flat are thin.

"He’s got mold in his flat", Johnny had told you. "Give it a few days and he’ll go back."

Not. 

It’s been three weeks, and Johnny's lieutenant still hasn’t left. Actually, you think he might’ve moved in altogether,because you’re starting to have less and less space in your closet, and Johnny's socks are mixing up with Simon’s.

But you’d bend and break for your boyfriend, and by extension for whoever he cares about—including his fucking lieutenant. Spooky geezer. Walks quietly around the house and scares the living shite out of you when he materializes in the darkest corners of the room.

It’s not that you hate him. You tolerate him—or, okay, you like him. You would like him even more if it weren’t for the predicament he’s inadvertently stuck you in. 

He is a fun addition to the household and has wonderful chemistry with Johnny. Stores a sharp wit and a repertoire of horrible jokes that somehow make you laugh. He’s clean, buys groceries, cooks meals when you and Johnny aren’t home—he’s a decent flatmate, after all.

But still.

You want to fuck your boyfriend.

“Johnny,” you whisper, turning under the bedsheets to face his way.

Even in the darkness shrouding the room, you can spot his silhouette.

It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when you do, you can finally make out the lines of his face. 

He’s sleeping soundly, like nothing can wake him even if it tried. His lips are slightly parted, a habit that comes hand in hand with the crook of his nose—a curve that makes it a bit harder for him to breathe.

You don’t want to be the one who interrupts what looks like a dreamless rest, but it is his fault if the flat feels like you’re sleeping on a slab of ice.

You scoot closer. The tips of your noses touch.

“Johnny,” you whisper again. “Baby, can you wake up?”

Nothing. He doesn’t even flinch.

You kiss him. A swift peck.

“Baaaaby,” you singsong to his lips, quiet yet cheeky.

It’s then that Johnny finally grumbles something. You quickly agitate a victorious fist under the covers.

“I need you to warm me up,” you tell him. “Because I’m too cold and I can’t sleep and it’s your fault.”

There. Evil. Digging your thumb into the guilt wound you’ve carved into his very soft heart. 

Johnny’s eyes flutter open. It takes him a while to adjust. A smack of his lips to hydrate his tongue, the heel of his hand digging into one closed eye. When he comes to, and finally connects the dots, you hear him snort.

“Unbelievable,” he murmurs. “Could’ve grabbed 'nother blanket.”

You frown.

“But you’re warmer than a blanket,” you retort dramatically. “And to get one I’d have to leave the bed, go wander helplessly into the cold, look for it in the da—”

He groans and slaps his arms around you until your face is plastered to his chest.

You press the very cold tip of your nose into the warm skin on his sternum. He flinches.

“Fuckin’ Christ, hen,” Johnny rumbles. “Ye weren't talkin' shite, aye? Proper icicle.”

You giggle. He shushes you as his chest rumbles with a quiet chuckle of his own.

He thinks it's over, then. Thinks he’s done with it now that you’re cuddled up in his arms, and closes his eyes.

But sneaky little you leaves kisses on his chest. The cheeky thing that you are, you press your thigh against his crotch, where he’s half-hard already—but that’s just because of men’s weird physiology, not because he’s horny.

He hums. “Not now, love.”

“Please,” you say, lips dancing about his chest until you reach his nipple.

You tentatively lick there. Johnny hisses and you triumph.

“Please, it’s been so long,” you plead. You purse your lips and suck so gently that Johnny’s hips thrust forward in a twitch, rutting against your thigh.

“He’ll hear us, hen.” He warns, but his voice cracks and you know that you’ve won. 

Simon can handle a few moans just fine, you reckon. He’s old enough.

“Let him,” you mumble to Johnny’s skin. “I don’t care, I miss you.”

You feel his hand reach to the back of your head. Gently, his fingers thread through your hair, massaging softly at your scalp until you’re a puddle in his hold. 

“Aye? Ye don’t care, eh?”

His eyes roam your face. Hooded, already heavy with lust, but a tad more balanced—managing to rein it in, unlike you.

“No.” You insist. “He can fucking watch for all I care.”

Your tongue darts forward, and you lick a stripe bisecting his lips. 

Johnny fucking loses it. 

His hand slides to your nape and holds firmly, enough so he can crash his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You sigh contently in it, no matter how hungry it is—to you this is the most awaited moment in weeks.

Your hands are as frantic as his own. You tug at his pants as he tugs at your shirt. 

Johnny is very tactile, and you just know he wants to touch you thoroughly before he gives you the blessing of a fuck.

In fact, the first thing he does is flatten his palm on your sternum to guide you on your back. His mouth nips and tugs at your lips, then at your jaw. He finds that softer spot on your neck and sucks lovebites on it.

You moan like a slut, without a care in the world. Simon be damned. The neighbors be damned, too.

Johnny's lips finally wrap around your nipple, while his hand plays with your other breast. 

You get louder, and it's a clear sign for that man on the other side of the wall to go and pop in some earbuds because you’re not shutting up tonight.

“You’ve never been this loud I swear to Christ,” Johnny says with a hint of a chuckle that gets lost in your skin. “S’like yer doin’ it on purpose.”

He pinches your belly. “Are you?”

You look down at him. Eyes narrowed. Smirk barely hidden. “No?”

But he can see right through you like you’re made of glass.

“You like it, eh?” He says with a hint of surprise, like he’s discovered a goddamn goldmine. “Oh, you fuckin’ like it.”

And what if you do? What if there's a thrill in knowing the man in the other room might hear you getting railed the way you deserve? Are you deranged for it?

Probably.

But fuck it.

Johnny’s mouth travels lower, from your breasts to the hollow between your ribs, until he’s fully hidden under the covers. 

Instinctively, your fingers thread through his hair. Tight.

Oh, he’s gonna eat you out. 

It’s much easier to quiet down when you’re having sex, because Johnny’s a kisser and he always keeps your mouth busy. But he knows you’re not exactly prim and proper when he makes you cum on his tongue.

He knows what he’s doing, and it’s then that a lightbulb flickers on in your head. 

Bright, excited.

Johnny likes it too.

And you love that he does.

So, since he’s as into this as you are, you settle on giving him the show of a lifetime.

It takes Johnny very little to get to the gist of it. He’d usually nose at your clit through the cotton of your panties, bite at the flesh of your thighs to tease you and get you wet. There’s no need for it this time—your knickers are already past the point of salvation.

He pulls them down and off, not sparing an inch of your skin from the hungry onslaught of lips. Legs draped comfortably over his shoulder, the soft fat of your thighs cushioning his ears.

Johnny dives in.

Your groan scratches your throat when the flat of his tongue lands on your clit. Tingles ripple from your sex to your head—some electric shockwave that makes your toes curl and your throat tight.

You collapse onto the pillow, and you let go.

Johnny licks fat stripes or twirls his tongue around your clit, sucking it in at times. You moan and whimper like cameras are pointing your way, like you want the man who’s stolen your couch, your privacy and your sex life to know how good Johnny’s making you feel.

Your eyes are closed but your mouth is open, fingers curled in a fistful of his hair. 

It’s then that you start riding Johnny’s face. He stays perfectly still, tongue out and conveniently flattened against your sex for you to grind against it.

It’s been so long since you felt him pant against your cunt, so long since you’ve had him tucked between your thighs until your hamstrings ache.

So long that you think you might cum already, and you’re not even five minutes in.

And you feel it in your stomach first, taut and clenching. You feel your orgasm grow as Johnny allows you to take it from him, handing you the reins of your own pleasure.

“M’gonna cum,” you breathe.

The only way you know that he’s heard you from beneath the duvet is because a muted groan echoes from somewhere below you, and his fingers tighten around your hips.

“Gonna fuck her after this, Johnny?” 

Your orgasm withers, but not as much as your heart.

You jolt away from your boyfriend even though you're suddenly petrified, scrambling in an attempt to pull away from his tongue.

But he doesn’t let you go—no. 

Johnny, the bastard, holds you with a resolve you’ve never witnessed before, and uses one hand to quickly shove the duvet off both your bodies.

Cold air slaps your bare skin. Gooseflesh rises at the first icy touch, nipples perked and hard. Your eyes automatically follow the voice in the dark, until they land on a shadow lingering at the door—broad shoulders filling the entryway of your bedroom. 

As soon as your vision adjusts, you focus better on it. A pale face stands out on top of a body clad in charcoal black. A hand, you see, palms at the crotch of his sweatpants.

“Johnny—” You say, or try, in between pants.

His eyes finally poke from between your legs. Swiftly, his fingers take the place of his tongue, rolling more languid circles on the knot of clit—throbbing as your orgasm is rudely snatched away. 

You whine at both the loss of his mouth and the discomfort of being watched.

And yet why aren’t you trying to cover yourself? Why are you still there, naked, back arched to press further into Johnny’s hand, with your fingers uselessly grasping the sheets at your sides?

“Let him watch, bonnie. You said it yerself, aye?” Johnny coos softly.

He can fucking watch for all I care. 

Fuck. You. And your big mouth.

He presses kisses along the stretch marks of your thighs. “Bet he’s not seen a beauty like ye since Christ was born.”

“Cut it out, MacTavish,” Simon barks from the dark corner he's carved for himself. 

In response, Johnny’s breathy chuckle hits your skin.

And while your vision might be compromised, your hearing isn’t. You can clearly hear the soft thud of socks against the hardwood floor. You can definitely feel him looming next to the bed.

You have to blink furiously when Simon turns on the nightlamp, bathing your body in yellow light. 

His eyes, darker than Johnny’s, take you in as you writhe under your boyfriend’s skilled fingers.

You sigh helplessly. “Fuck.”

Perhaps this is too much. Perhaps you’re not ready. And yet—

Simon’s hand grabs a handful of his cock through his sweatpants. You can see the outline of it, fat and straining against the grip of his fingers. A sight so delicious it makes your mouth water.

Your boyfriend catches on the exchange of looks. The way your eyes drop to his lieutenant’s cock. His fingers slow down—and as enraptured as you are, you don’t notice the smile that blooms on his cheeks.

“What d’you want him to do, hen?” Johnny pitches in, finally diluting the soupy mess of your thoughts to reveal what this truly is.

A spotlight on you.

Both men are starving to see, touch, taste. This is heaven, even for an introvert such as yourself. 

Small bug on the wall, observing—for once, observed.

Suddenly, you want that. You want to see them both kneel for you and study your body to learn how to keep it warm, sated, happy.

“Touch yourself,” you whisper before you can think.

Warmth licks at your neck when your own voice reaches your ears.

You swivel your eyes to Johnny again, who’s looking at you with a dangerous glint in his eye—enjoying every bump on your body that rises from the cold, every shiver his fingers cause to wreck your spine.

“You heard her LT,” Johnny says at length.

And before you can utter a word, his mouth returns on you.

Your voice breaks into a moan, eyes rolled back. There’s an insistent fizz in your ears, like there are suds stuck in there. 

Simon’s “Yes ma’am” barely makes it through. 

Slow blinking yourself back to reality, you manage to focus on Simon’s hand which is now stroking his bare cock. Tip a furious red, glossy with precum he smears down his length.

Fuck, you’d pay good fucking money to have it on your tongue, but you’re not in the right headspace yet. You find yourself content with the idea that he’s that hard and that leaking just because you look that hot to his eyes.

Perhaps this is a first step. And it's okay.

It’s invigorating. You love it to bits. So much so that, once again, you hear yourself say “Touch me.”

Johnny’s chuckle vibrates against your clit, but he doesn’t stop. He palms at your lower stomach as he eats you out, keeping you still and comfortable, until you feel your thighs tremble.

The mattress dips under Simon’s weight when he comes to kneel right beside you. The anticipation might kill you, and you’re so focused on him that you don’t realize how impending your orgasm is.

A big hand comes to touch your lips. Simon fits two fingers into your inviting mouth, and you don’t fight it when he touches the back of your throat. 

Instead, you moan at his praise of “Good girl” slipping hoarsely past his lips.

He pulls them out and uses your own spit to lubricate the head of his cock. His cheeks glow red, mouth parted to catch his breath—you never thought a man as apparently indifferent as him could look so delightfully affected.

All because you took his fingers in your mouth like a champ.

You almost cum there and then.

His other hand comes to thumb your nipple. He pinches it, toys with it. He cups your breast in his big hand and squeezes softly just to feel the softness of it. 

He rises upwards, then. Curls those same fingers at the base of your throat in a grip that progressively tightens, until he can hear your breath get stuck in your throat.

It’s then that you cum. 

With the sound of Johnny’s mouth sucking at your clit. With the wet noises of Simon’s cock being tugged in rapid strokes, as if he’s forcing himself to cum earlier than intended.

Your orgasm is so strong that your mind blanks for a moment, not registering the way your voice breaks as you catch your breath again.

Not registering when sudden wetness paints your tits and puddles at your stomach, followed by a groan so loud that it breaks through the fog in your brain. 

When you come to, you blink at the ceiling. 

Your heart pounds viciously, so much that you can feel it on your tongue. It’s wonderful and it would be embarrassing, your current position, if it weren’t for Johnny’s face coming into view.

His lips land fondly on the tip of your nose. “Yer gorgeous when you cum.”

And you smile.

It broadens when another voice joins in, lower and panting, “Affirm. Fuckin’ lovely.”

As you reach down between your and Johnny's bodies with a trembling hand, if only to return the favor, he gently swats it away. However, your fingers make it just in time to feel his softening cock, how wet it is at the tip.

You bet there's a twinning stain on the sheets, too.

“Wee bit at a time, aye?” He offers, kissing your cheek. 

You don’t dare to rebut, as spent as you are. Instead, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

Your eyes blink closed. 

"Did you cum?" You ask dumbly.

"'Course I did." Johnny nibbles at your lip. "Ye taste like fuckin' heaven."

You giggle, obviously flattered, though it sounds quite weak, sleep already taking over your brain.

"You could've fucked me," you tease.

"Nah," Johnny replies, leaving a fat kiss on your mouth. "Woulda killed Simon to see ye—"

"That'll do, Johnny," Simon cuts in.

He doesn't sound angry—more exasperated than anything. He's still panting, though.

You crack one eye open and find him unabashedly staring at his cum dripping down the valley of your breasts.

His hand lands on your forehead, then, brushing back the hair that has stuck to it. It's awkward, like he's not sure what to do but still wants to check in on your well-being.

Through the fog of pure ecstasy, you think he wants to feel somewhat included. Which is why you reach out, your fingers searching blindly for somewhere to land. You find his thigh, the soft fabric of his sweats, and squeeze.

He tenses beneath your palm, but the muscles relax soon afterwards. Welcoming the touch—perhaps welcoming you altogether.

"Tired, aye?" Simon whispers, sounding uncharacteristically tender.

"Yeah," you reply wearily, though his was more of a rhetorical question.

You're too fucked out to realize it. Or to care about realizing it at all.

The comfortable silence that has settled in the room is broken by the shuffle of sheets. The creek of the mattress.

Simon disappears beyond the threshold of the room, only to return moments later with a warm towel in hand.

You get cleaned and pampered, dressed back into your comfy pjs. Sandwiched, at some point, by four arms instead of two, six legs intertwined instead of four.

Your toes are still cold, but the rest of you isn’t.

And you think it can't get any better than this, as you fall back asleep. 

Written for February writing challenge, to fill the prompt "Ghoap x Reader body heat trope"

[eddiegettingshot]

okay so let's just recap what happened. maddie tells buck he should try making new friends because he's not coping well with his only friend eddie being gone. so buck tries to make friends with eddie's replacement, looking like a complete loser in the process, due to he doesn't know how to make friends and eddie's just a freak disguised as a pretty cool and normal dude. they manage to settle on an activity that eddie should probably not haunt (drinking) except for that buck is really intent on making sure eddie haunts everything and everyone so he spends the entire time talking about how he is eddie's princess and eddie is soooo good at stuff and has never done anything wrong in his life and he's so much fun, let's play this drinking game he taught me! ravi who is sick of this forcibly inserts tommy in his place and gets the hell out of there before buck can say eddie's name a billionth time. tommy doesn't really get what he's supposed to be doing there and doesn't give a shit until he learns that eddie is gone, upon which he Turns It On and they end up going back to. well. (tommy voice) eddie's house. buck has not unpacked a single thing and is never even there so they have tequila-drunk sex on a bare mattress without sheets or anything, there is definitely no lube available so it's definitely dry as fuck, and afterwards buck (drunk, just had sex) still has the wherewithal to change into his sleepytime shirt (he doesn't take his watch off though) before falling asleep, so it probably isn't all that athletic either. in the morning buck wakes up in an empty (sheetsless) bed and is like Haha okay he probably just left! but no. tommy's in eddie's kitchen and he has cooked 1 pound of bacon and 17 eggs and an entire fruit salad and chopped up celery and carrots and also cut 4 bagels AND brought champagne. to celebrate their dry ex sex they had on buck's bare mattress in eddie's house, which by the way he thinks it's super weird that they're in eddie's house, but hee hee eddie's gone so he can ignore it and GET IN THERE!!!!! like he's been waiting to do for months apparently. then for some reason when buck asks him if he's not afraid buck will break his heart anymore he decides the best response is to be like WELL YEAH NOW THAT YOUR BEST FRIEND HAS MOVED TO A DIFFERENT STATE. YOU KNOW, BECAUSE OF HIS FAMILY FALLING APART DUE TO HIS GRIEF. YEAH HE'S OUT OF THE WAY NOW SO IT'S ALL GOOD OVER HERE. HOW ABOUT SOME BUBBLY? and buck, understandably, is weirded out, and also freaked out, but even he is like. Ummmm. first of all eddie rented this house. and he's straight. so you're wrong about my feelings for him, which neither of those things address. also i don't have feelings for you btw. and then tommy walks out, leaving buck with approximately 80 united states dollars' worth of breakfast, so he can call an uber from eddie's front porch. and he has to sit there and wait for his uber, and probably he's thinking, Wow if i told buck i was getting an uber right now, buck would probably say, "me and eddie got an uber once!"

[theskywithin]

💫 The Natal Vertex in the Houses: Where Fate Finds You

The Vertex isn’t loud. It doesn’t arrive with sirens or spotlights. It arrives like a shift in the wind, like a glance that lingers, like a door you didn’t know you were meant to walk through. In the birth chart, the Vertex is a portal. To people. To lessons. To moments that reroute your life. It’s where the universe takes the wheel, even if you thought you knew where you were going.

Each house placement reveals where fate waits for you, softly, silently, but without fail.

Vertex in the 1st House

Fate arrives through moments that force you to meet yourself. You’ll be nudged, no, thrown, into situations that strip away the versions of you that were never truly yours. You’re here to become someone you haven’t yet met. Someone stronger, bolder, realer. The universe will place you in front of mirrors, disguised as challenges, lovers, strangers, until you finally say: “This is who I am. And I’m not hiding anymore.”

Vertex in the 2nd House

You will think you know your worth. And then life will test it. Over and over. You are destined to redefine what has value, not just in the world, but in yourself. Through losses, gains, and the aching in-between, you’ll learn that your value isn’t in what you offer, but in what you are. Fate will show up in the form of what you think you need, only to teach you what you truly deserve.

Vertex in the 3rd House

Your turning points come not through chaos, but through conversations, questions, and words that stay with you. Someone says something you weren’t ready to hear. You stumble upon a book, a phrase, a memory, and suddenly everything shifts. Fated moments come disguised as everyday ones. A message missed the first time. A voice that cracks something open in you. You’re here to rewrite the story you were told, and learn how to speak your own into existence.

Vertex in the 4th House

Fate doesn’t knock on your front door. It knocks on the door inside your chest. This placement ties your destiny to the roots you never chose and the healing you must choose. Family, ancestry, home, these will feel like mazes at first. But fate will push you into rooms that demand forgiveness, softness, reclamation. You’re here to come home to yourself, even if you had to leave everything familiar to do so.

Vertex in the 5th House

You’re not here to live safely. You’re here to feel everything deeply, to love without apology, to create without asking for permission. Fate will place you in front of people or passions that awaken the version of you that dances in the flames. Children, art, romance, risk. They may break your heart open, but only so you’ll finally use it fully. This is the house of remembering joy, and daring to keep it.

Vertex in the 6th House

You don’t find your destiny in grand moments. You find it in the mundane. In the habits that heal you, the routines that ground you, the tasks that secretly build you. Fate asks you to serve, not to shrink, but to rise with purpose. Your turning points may come through work, health, sacrifice, or service, but they will always come with meaning. You’re here to learn that healing is holy, and purpose is found in the details.

Vertex in the 7th House

You were never meant to walk this path alone. Fate arrives wearing the face of another. Not just lovers, teachers, soul mirrors, adversaries. People who crack you open, rearrange you, and leave fingerprints on your becoming. This is the house of union, but not comfort. It is through connection that you unearth your edges, and choose to soften them. You’re here to meet the one who reveals you to yourself.

Vertex in the 8th House

Fate doesn’t arrive quietly here. It arrives in loss, rebirth, seduction, secrets, surrender. You’re not here to live on the surface. You’re here to dive, to the depths of intimacy, trauma, transformation. Fated events will force you to shed skin after skin, learning what power really means. It is in your most unraveling moments that you will become someone unshakable.

Vertex in the 9th House

Destiny takes the long way with you. Across oceans, languages, ideologies. You will be changed by what you don’t yet understand. Fate whispers through the unfamiliar, the beliefs that unsettle you, the truths that demand expansion. You’re here to chase meaning. And life will place you in foreign places, literal or spiritual, until you realize: home was never a location. It was freedom.

Vertex in the 10th House

This is the house of becoming. Fate will not let you hide. Public identity, career, legacy, these are not just ambitions, they are soul contracts. You are meant to leave a mark, but first life will strip away everything you thought success meant. Then, it will give you something real to rise with. You’re here to take up space, not for the applause, but because you finally believe you belong.

Vertex in the 11th House

Fate shows up in friendships, visions, revolutions. You are here to connect, to tribe, to truth, to the future. You may feel like an outsider until you find your soul circle, the ones who recognize the fire in your chest and say “me too.” Your path involves something bigger than just you. Movements. Causes. Ideas that will outlive you. You're here to belong, not just anywhere, but somewhere that sets you free.

Vertex in the 12th House

Destiny is not loud here, it’s intuitive, invisible, soaked in déjà vu. You are guided by something you can’t quite name. Fated experiences will feel spiritual, strange, deeply karmic. Loss, solitude, dreams, and secrets will shape your path. But this is also the house of transcendence. You’re here to release what isn’t yours, forgive what never apologized, and surrender to something higher. Fate doesn’t just find you, it flows through you.

[softaestluv]

You never thought you were attracted to grease and grime, sweat and exhaustion, definitely needed a shower and scrub, but no one has worn it like he is.

Mechanic! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! reader

Tags: dirty, greasy, grimy, sweaty, blue collar worker, yeah I’ll take one of those! you own a pick up, & I actually don’t know anything about cars, eventual smut

Pt. 1, Pt. 2 of 4 (hopefully), Ao3

You’re entirely too eager to return to ‘Ghost’s Garage.’ Maybe you walk through the front doors of the rundown shop a little early, definitely do.

Your shitty pick-up probably only needs to be topped off, but you did drive 3000 miles, and it’s not like being on top of maintenance would hurt.

So, you brush your arrival off as maintaining the integrity of your pick-up, and not the fact that sweat drenched skin and a Manchester accent hasn’t left the confines of your mind since.

Unfortunately, you’re not greeted by Simon when you arrive, instead, blonde hair is replaced with a brown Mohawk, said English accent replaced by a Scottish one.

��Oi, hello lass!” The man greets, a wide smile on his lips.

“Oh, hi,” You respond, giving him a tight smile in return, “Is Simon not here?”

“Aye, he’s busy wi’ another car right now, but ah can help ye, nae worries,” He explains, with an encouraging nod.

You try your best to hide the disappointment in your tone, but its hard when you did your hair this morning with Simon in mind, when you wore your uncomfortable pencil skirt to work with him in mind, when you showed up after work instead of on your day off because you had been hoping that you could see him just as filthy after a full days of work.

“Ah, okay,” You mumble quietly, “I just need my oil changed is all.”

You can’t help, but mourn the money you’re about to spend on an oil change you don’t really need, when the whole reason you were so adamant to return isn’t plausible. It’s too late to walk out now, how desperate would you look if you left because Simon wouldn’t be the one working on your car?

So, you accept your fate, that it wasn’t in the cards, listen to the new man’s instructions and pull your truck into the service drive.

Guilt eats at your chest because it’s not really the mohawked mans fault; he isn’t even ugly, definitely a sight for sore eyes— desperate eyes that is. He wears less than Simon had, a white tank top that’s a little too tight for him, and worn in jeans with more than one rip in them. Wears it a little braver than Simon had, smug and confident, probably a heartthrob for all the mom’s cars he works on, probably flirts with all of them too with no actual intentions, just to make them feel good.

When you park in the service drive, your wandering eyes find Simon across the garage, bent over the hood of a car. It’s not your truck; you won’t get to talk to him, but you think it’s worth it when he’s bent so low over the sedan that his white shirt rises over his hips as he reaches forward. The sliver revealed is paler than the rest of his bronzed skin, freckles littered across the lighter flesh, draws excess saliva in your cheeks, embarrassingly so, over an inch of skin.

But it makes your mind wander, filthy images of connecting the sun marks with timid fingers and shaking hesitation, find out how far down the brown freckles trail.

You don’t have to imagine for long, not when he realizes you’re standing across the garage, gawking at him with a ravenous hunger in your eyes, and starts to walk over to you. He dabs at the sweat on his hairline, makes his shirt rise even higher, reveals light brown freckles curled over his abdomen and a blonde happy trail disappearing into his coveralls.

It’s almost impossible to force your eyes up, find his gaze when he’s walking around like that. With his fucking happy trail on display between the sweat drenched skin and grimy oil marks. The spitting image of a hard working man, powerful and stout, makes a stinging warmth coil in your limbs, thighs pressing tightly together.

“Hi,” You squeak when he stops in front of you, cheeks burning hot in embarrassment because you can’t decide if getting caught drawing lewd shapes with his freckles outweighs the reward of him approaching you.

“Hi, sweeth’art.”— and you decide right then and there that getting caught was worth it when the deep timbre of his voice washes over your shoulders.

He’s positively filthy, more so than last time.

Wet, greasy.

You can smell it on him just as strongly as you can see it on his skin. Like car oil that sat out for too long, the rubber burnt off tires.

A heavy musk, acrid, pungent odor.

You have half the mind to know you should be disgusted by it, that a dirty mechanic calling you a term of endearment should crawl under your skin and make you uncomfortable, but it does the complete opposite. It’s not like you have much of a fight in that game when you were just greedily memorizing his blonde tufts of hair, picturing how it would curl over his pelvis, matted and damp from his hard work.

Even still, you’re pinpointing all the places fingerprint grease stains would imprint on your skin in his wake. How thick the layers of sweat and grime would taste on your tongue.

“Johnny, I got ‘his one, okay?” He shouts to the other side of the garage.

Johnny wears a devious smirk on his face, but Simon doesn’t let you see it for long, shifting to face you just as quickly as he wore it.

You’re not sure if you took a step forward or if Simon was standing this close to begin with. Maybe he was just truly this massive, but you have to tilt your head back just to look at him. He doesn’t necessarily make it easy either, not when he stares down at you with piercing eyes, makes you feel out of your own skin.

“You jus’ need yer oil again?” He asks.

You nod, licking your lips, “Yes, but I thought you were busy? You don’t have to stop to help.”

“Don’t y’worry,” He reassures, shaking his head, “I’ll do it, told you t’come back ‘n you listened didn’t ya?”

You can’t do anything else but nod because you did listen, practically thought of any excuse to find yourself back in his office, his thick build over your engine over you, as soon as possible.

Simon’s lips twitch at your agreement, “Jus’ sit in my office, yeah? No worries, I’ll take care of you.”

You find yourself back in Simon’s office, a warmth to your skin that you can’t seem to shake, not when you keep thinking of every imaginable way he could take care of you. It only gets worse when you perch yourself on the edge of the seat to get the best view of him working on your pick-up.

Maybe it’s something primal, but seeing his large frame bent over, working on your truck and not someone else’s sedan flares satisfaction in your chest. Especially when you watch his sweat drip from his forehead onto your engine, splattered droplets on your blue hood.

If it was anyone else it would make your stomach twist in disgust, gnawing at the back of your mind until you could wipe the hood clean, but it’s not. You’re not entirely sure why you feel this way, maybe it’s his physique that allows you to brush these things off, but it scratches at something carnal in your conscious.

You don’t get much time to appreciate the divots in his shoulders and neck like you truly wanted, like a specimen of his kind really deserves, when Johnny walks in the room. You fall back into the chair quickly, trying to hide the way you were practically leaning forward desperately to see Simon.

He wears a knowing smile, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything about it, “Didnae think ma work would be up tae par?”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head, “No, Simon insisted.”

“Never heard of tha’ man takin’ on extra work willingly,” He jokes, leaning against the window sill— quiet irritation settling in your stomach as he covers Simon completely from your view.

“Must be that skirt yer wearin’.”

Your eyes widen, face burning, “Jus’ my work clothes.”

You’re not lying, they are your work clothes, just happen to be the more form fitting ones, is all.

“And your work clothes?” You remark, arching your brow at him, gesturing from head to toe, because his outfit is entirely more barren than yours is.

“Workin’ man’s uniform,” He shrugs nonchalantly, but he struts across the thin office and does a twirl for you, propping his hip out as he poses.

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, Simon walks into the office.

“Johnny, I thought I told ya to stop harassin’ our customers.”

“Ah’m doin’ nae such thing. Just tellin’ lass here she might’ve got oil grease on her skirt.”

You furrow your brows at his words, looking down at the front of your skirt with a pout because you really didn’t want to stain the skirt without a purpose, except you don’t see anything.

“Nae, nae,” He shakes his head, gesturing to your back.

You do a spin of sorts, arching your head to find what he’s referring to.

“Johnny.” Simon spits.

His tone has more bite to it than you completely understand, but he grabs your arm, pushing you to face forward again.

“There’s nothin’,” Simon explains.

You’re still confused, brows still pinched together, until you look at Johnny, a proud smile smeared across his face.

“Aw, come on, ye liked it jus’ as much, Si,” Johnny teases, realization dawning on you, throat constricting in embarrassment, but he mumbles an apologize when he meets Simon’s scowl.

“Your pick-ups ready for ya,” Simon says, ignoring Johnny.

You follow him out of the office gratefully, too humiliated to even think for yourself right now.

“Is it too much?” You ask Simon with a frown.

“Huh?”

You tug on the seams of your skirt as an explanation.

“Oh,” He says before pausing, “No, no ‘ts not— you look great.”

“Thank you,” You murmur bashfully, atleast you got a compliment out of the whole ordeal, “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothin’.”

“No!” You protest, “You have to let me pay you back somehow!”

You’re not prepared for the way his expression changes, irises dipping into something dark, and you’re definitely not prepared for his next request.

“Do a twirl just f’me?”

✦.─Masterlist ─.✦

[lizardho]

Before I knew I was bisexual I was just insanely dramatic and weird around guys I liked. I had a crush on this guy in my ward - he was older than me, he played bagpipes and had a cheerful dog and an old Volkswagen bus that he worked on all the time. He also had nice scruff and unnaturally attractive hands and a good sense of humor, so I was like FULLY smitten.

I talked about him a lot and about how he was just so dang COOL, dang it, because he was so frickin’ cool. And I really liked him. I thought he was funny and smart and interesting and cool and fascinating and a bunch of other weird feelings I barely had the attention span to think about (I think my ADHD may have prevented me from coming out for a while tbh).

One day, I’m like 14-15, his dad is called to be my Sunday School teacher. His dad is this ex-military hardass with a chip on his shoulder for absolutely no reason and unattainable standards for his children. He spent most of Sunday School talking shit about his eldest boy and how he was rebellious and didn’t listen to him and how that was going to make him a bad adult and a bad son forever. How his son was too lazy and unmotivated to be successful because he didn’t listen to his advice on how to read the scriptures. He complained about how our generation was too weak to do things right and that our generation would surely be the one that brought the world’s downfall because of our laziness and sin.

And like, first of all, that guy can already go fuck himself for that. To clarify, that’s already stupid. BUT. He was talking about the man I had uncomfortable dreams about at least once a month. I couldn’t stand it. I’d get so mad I’d go home shaking sometimes because how fucking DARE he insult his hardworking stunning son by calling him lazy? For not reading the Bible the way his dad wants? When he’s already spending his time learning bagpipes? And fixing cars? And being cool? And cute? Who the fuck even cares if he uses the footnotes in the Book of Mormon? Who gives a rotten rat’s ass if he doesn’t use the scripture study manual his dad uses? He’s so cool he doesn’t even need it? So fuck off?

And eventually I got fucking Sick Of It and decided to mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean skip class. I’d just not go. And after a bit, adults started noticing and bugging me about it. At first, this was put off by small talk and excuses, but as my absence from Sunday School became more well-known, my excuses began to be rejected.

“Oh, Lizard, why aren’t you in class?” Uhm idk because my Sunday School teacher is mean to his kid and that makes me so mad wtf do you want from me? 🫠🤔

“Where’s your class, I’ll go with you!” Oh no ty I’d rather peel my own eyes than have my taste in men critiqued tyty 🩷

“Lizard, you should go to class, I’m sure they miss you!” And I miss the innocent days where my stomach didn’t hurt when a cool boy I knew was being belittled but unfortunately for us both those days are LONG gone and all that’s left is a budding psychosexual clusterfuck that will render me almost fully incapable of functioning for the better part of a decade so Bye Bye, sister Smith 🙂‍↕️

It had gotten to the point that ward leadership was involved. I was being approached by members of the Young Men’s presidency and the Bishopric to try and make me to back to class. They were telling me God had told them to find me and instruct me on my rebelliousness. This is where I implemented my secret weapon - women. Mormons are weird as hell about a lot of things, but especially about women. And I was GREAT with women. So to combat the leadership’s attention, I started helping women.

Our ward had a lot of new moms with babies who were, as babies tend to be, fussy. But for Mormon women the church is often their only social outlet, so they try to power through as long as they can even if it means enduring the exhausting ordeal of taking care of a fussy baby at church.

For what it’s worth, I have a lot of sway with babies. I got baby street cred. Me and babies have a rapport. I have always known this. I have always loved this. And in this crucial gay time in my faggot life my baby mind powers came in clutch - Every time I saw a member of the bishopric getting close, or a young men’s leader giving me side-eye, I’d start walking slowly towards class, passing by relief society. I’d wait until a mom’s baby had gotten too fussy and needed to leave the room, and I’d swoop in like a knight. “Oh, don’t you worry sister, I’ll bounce him a bit. You go back and hang out with your friends in class. You deserve a break.”

If it was a diaper change or something they’d tell me no. But if it was just some good old-fashioned baby fusses, I mean, they’d be moved almost to tears. They just got their social time back AND a free babysitter who is renowned as the Baby Whisperer. And because I was holding a baby as a favor for someone else, I of course could not reasonably be bothered to return to class.

So just like that, I was out of everyone’s sights. This went on for about a month before the straw that broke the camel’s back, which was that without my class participation the classes were quiet and awkward. I’d often take the brunt of Sunday school lectures by answering questions impulsively and over explaining myself enough that the clock could run out without anyone needing to do or say much. My absence meant everyone else was getting hit with the full unpleasantness of this guy’s bullshit. And so slowly, one-by-one, I had a group of about 8 kids on baby-holding duty. These new moms were so overjoyed, they and their husbands were both so actively in our corner that now chastising us was untenable. Now we had bargaining power. So the Bishopric approached us, confused beyond confused and uncomfortable beyond uncomfortable, and said,

“What’s it gonna take to get you back to class?”

The POWER I possessed in that moment was addictive. By being kind to the women of the ward and ignoring the Mormon de facto Rule of Law of following rules en-masse so the rule breakers feel left out, there were now so many people breaking ranks that we had effectively enacted a church boy labor strike. And they crumbled so fast it was almost like we had swayed God himself to our cause.

“I want brother assholedad gone. He sucks at teaching.”

I didn’t even have to say it. One of my rebels said it for me. I just nodded sagely and said “Yes, his class is not edifying. It’s better to not go and hold babies.”

And just like that, with a snap of my limp-wristed, Christ-wounding, bottom-brained fingers my faggot will was enacted. God’s revelation that brother shitdad was his chosen Sunday school teacher flipped on a dime. Suddenly brother shitdad was asked to be an usher and the fun dad of another one of my crushes was called in to teach us. I still stayed to hold babies a lot, but the rest of the class returned and all was well again.

Although I didn’t recognize it then, I think that was a formative moment for me in a lot of ways. I learned that being really persistently annoying will get me what I want from authority eventually. I learned that God’s will can be swayed by going in strike. I learned that ignoring men’s made up authority forces them to level with you as a person. I learned that caring for women, especially vulnerable women, can make a whole world happier. I learned that letting women rest can help them feel more love for the things that matter in their life. I learned that social bonds make everyone stronger and happier. And I learned that loving others in a gay way can change the world.

Be gayer. Read Terry Pratchett. I love y’all 💕

[sixty-silver-wishes]

want to add that it IS worth it, but I need to be realistic and say this: being weird isn't easy.

If you’re like me and you’ve gone a long time being extremely self conscious of other people’s opinions, it’s not as simple as flicking the “be myself” switch. It’s a difficult process. Self love takes practice; after all, you’re taking on an entire new mentality- the way you conceptualize yourself and how you’ll be perceived. That’s a lot to adjust to, and it won’t happen overnight.

some days, it’s not so bad. I’ll wear my weird clothes and put on my weird hat and draw my weird art and listen to my weird music, and I’ll love myself. and other days, I wish I could just fit in. and to those who say, “but everyone has their own insecurities, even if you don’t see them!,” at least some people can hide them better. some days, I’d give anything to do that.

embracing myself the last few years has helped me a lot. It’s helped me develop and mature, and find more confidence than I ever had before. most days, I really do like who I am now. for the first time, I can proudly say that, if I could see someone exactly like myself, I would want to be their friend.

but sometimes, I return to who I was before that happened. before I got my official diagnosis. before I joined my local art community. before I developed my art style. before I welcomed my love of expressionist film (and I say that in particular, because I can confidently say I would not be who I am today without it). and when I feel like that, I need to be more forgiving. maybe it’s different for other people, but I could never just decide to be weird and never look back. it takes work.

OP is right; it WILL save you. but please keep in mind it won’t happen immediately.

ya gotta stop caring what people think and start being extremely weird. but never cruel. i think that might save you

[writingwisterias]

Belonging

Single Dad!Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, MNDI, Needy Dom!Leon, Touched-Starved, DILF!Leon, Unprotected Sex, Fluff, Comfort, Edging, Oral, Overstimulation, Orgasm-Denial, Praise Kink,

Summary: Maybe sometimes it's worth being a bit selfish

I hope you enjoy, it's inspired by all my anons Headcanons over DILF!Leon !! Also I read somewhere on Reddit that his favorite film was French connections so his daughter is named after a character in that

Words: 7.6k

Thank you Eva for beta reader @clitorphosis 😘

Mornings like this were always his favourite, where the breeze flowed through that gap in the window that he never shut. His soft sheets wrapped around his body encasing himself in warmth that the fabric provided and let's not forget the small breaths that fanned over his chest as he tugged the little body closer. Her blond hair spewn out across his arm and chest as she clinged onto him for dear life. He’d ignore the pain that rose as her fingers dug into his flesh, the action feeling somewhat familiar to others in his past. Leon was never sure how his life gave him these moments, how despite all the shit he has gone through his little angel shines brightly in it. Marie Kennedy, the guardian angel that saved her father from himself. 

He would now never come to regret the decisions that led him to this point. All of his years of self torture wondering where his life was going and what his true purpose was meant to be; came crashing down as soon as her little finger held onto his when she was finally in his arms. It didn’t matter that her mother wasn’t a part of the picture, not when he promised himself to fill that role as much as he could for her. For now it was easy, listening to the 4 year old ramble about the disney princess’. Half the words coming out as a babbled mess with a few he could understand mixed in. 

The harder parts he was sure would soon come, but he now has an army of people who would help him.There was little point in him thinking about her older years, not when she was still so clingy that he couldn't do the reports at home without her sitting in his lap. Her pink crayons always end up scribbling a few lines in the corner of his reports. Thank god it wasn’t unusual for Hunnigan to proofread them before she handed them in, there was now an eraser on her desk stained pink as she tried to scrub them away for him. 

Leon’s work attitude improved, he no longer felt the never ending doom within his service. Instead, he focused on working hard to make the world a better place for his angel. 

Leon worked his fingers through the blonde stands of her hair, detangling them before she's even woken up. He watched her as she snuggled further into his chest, as if she could get any closer without being completely on top of him. He wasn’t sure when she had snuck her way into his bed last night but he wasn’t going to argue or tell her off. He never did – not when his body instantly reacted everytime, pulling her into his safe embrace. The action was his favourite, the most soothing to him; after all it was the only place in the world he could ensure nothing would get to her. Not without the lack of trying anyway. 

It was surprising that even with the sun periodically lighting up the room when the curtains would blow with the breeze that she still didn't wake. Leon no longer needed an alarm clock, not when Marie would come running in jumping on the bed excitedly begging for him to take her to the cafe. 

Leon knew he couldn’t cook for shit; he never really had to learn, not when he barely had the time to sit in his apartment before being called on another mission again. Most of the meals she ate were frozen foods, something quick and easy for him in case he did have to leave quickly. So it came to no surprise that her favourite meal of the day was breakfast. He wouldn’t blame her either when you delivered the food, always with a large and welcoming smile.

Leon only ever tried his best for her. Everyone that had met the pair could see it. There wasn’t anything that man wouldn’t do for his little girl. He was never late to collect her or drop her off from kindergarten. Never bought his work home besides a few non-descriptive reports. Leon made sure that the home was filled with everything she needed; it was her little palace not his. It went as far as him even choosing to eat off the pink princess plates instead of boring ‘adult’ ones. Of course his angel made sure to get him his favourite character, Mulan always staring back at him once he finished. 

Leon kissed the crown of her head, smiling at the waft of apple shampoo that filled his nose. In terms of waking up your energetic 4 year old, that's at least a pleasant way to do it. He chuckled as he felt her head shaking against his skin as she slowly rose, her tiny fists rubbing at her eyes before the smile came. The one that was always brighter than any star, sun or flash bang he’s seen. His favourite sight in the morning. “Morning sleepy head” He soothed as she finally looked at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck giggling as she peppered his face with her small kisses. 

He couldn’t help but laugh along with her holding her body close. “Morning Daddy” she replied, pulling back to look at him with nothing but love. He often found himself wondering if she would do the same as she grew up, if she would keep looking at him like the stars shined out of his ass. There was no hiding her from his past when she was older, the horrors were still too present in his mind and with technology advancing, who knows how long he would still be doing this. 

However, he was forever thankful that he had people that looked after her a year ago. The world beat him too hard but for her…he had to pull through. That situation now left her with an army of uncles and aunties, all willing to step in for him. To make sure that no matter what happened he could rest easy knowing she was taken care of.  

Leon didn’t get a chance to sit up before she bounced off the bed, her excited feet going in the motion to drag him awake. He smiled as she tried with all her might, just like every morning, to get him up. “Alright alright, I’m getting up” He laughed, his hand falling on her head stroking the hairs lovingly one more time before standing up. His body popped and cracked as he stretched it out, the abuse it's been through for many years now catching up to him.

Once dressed, Leon turned to see her playing silently with her rabbit, blabbering god knows what to the well loved toy. Her blond hair messy on one side, her cheek still red from where it was pressed against his warm chest. Once he was situated it was her turn, he practically chased her to the room. Following the sounds of playful giggles as she ran away. The pink walls were a form of comfort for him, the fairy stickers he remembered being a nightmare to place now made it feel magical. He always let her choose what she wanted to wear, only reminding her the items of clothing that she needed to find. 

Outfit situated Marie sat in front of him, playing quietly with her toys as he worked on her hair. Carefully detangling it with the brush before braiding, silently reminding himself of the steps that Claire taught him. It was only a basic braid, nothing too complicated for him but it was enough to ensure her hair never got tangled and he didn’t have to deal with nits when they broke out in her class. Leon cringed at the memory of the only time it happened, shuddering at her little sniffles as Claire and Jill worked the combs through the hair as gently as they could, whilst he stood there helpless. Only being able to offer her cuddles once the ‘torture’ was over.  

“Breakfast?” She asked him, looking at him with her version of puppy dog eyes. Not that she needed them with him. Leon grinned as she tried to contain her excitement, wiggling on the spot as he zipped up her coat. “Stay still or I’ll get you angel” He chuckled. It was a repeated phrase, her excitement and enthusiasm was one of the things he treasured most as she grew up. Sure she got in a few cupboards she shouldn’t have when she began crawling and silence always unnerved this household. Ending up being the most common signal that she was up to something. 

“Do you think she’ll be there today?” Her small voice asked as she watched him secure her mittens. He knew she was talking about you, her favorite person in the world. A title bribed with your seemingly endless knowledge on the princess’ she cared so much about and the tiny pancakes you forced the chefs to make for an infamous bunny. None of the other staff members seemed to care about them as he walked in there with her. Maybe it was because he had to deal with her mini meltdowns over it being your day off.

“I’m sure she will be Angel, she was there last saturday” He chuckled, watching as she paused, her features scrunching as she thought about it. Trying to determine if her dad was cruel enough to lie again. 

There was a possibility that he should put more thought into you being her favorite person. Having to explain the connection and routine he’s created for his little one where her mood for the rest of the day is determined by your presence would be a tricky one. Even more so if it was to someone he was trying to date, not that he was trying to find someone. His love life had run dry since the screaming baby was introduced, the welfare of his toddler was more important than any woman he bought home. The drinking had slowed as soon as she was born, he can't drink himself to sleep every night if a newborn cries every 2 hours.  

Her fingers clenched around his hand, holding tightly as he guided her to the car. The Disney CD started playing once he began to drive; he never really had the heart to turn it off and put something that he would have preferred instead. Even when she wasn’t in the car. His Dad Rock days were on a pause for now. 

The car was filled with the sound of his humming. Occasionally broken by half hearted responses to Marie as she babbled about the things they passed. Her sticky fingers left marks on the window, that he never would clean off, as she pointed at them. It didn’t matter that they passed the same sights everyday or spoke about the same tree that was sprouting flowers now spring was around the corner. These moments are what made everything worth it. 

Your body turned towards the entrance of the cafe, the sound of the bell above the door signalling someone had entered. The smile you wore was bright but it was still the fake one that was reserved for the customers you weren’t familiar with. However, it was quick to change when you saw the familiar mop of brown hair and heard mummers of the deep voice you had grown familiar with, whispering a small curse as he tried to stop the toddler from colliding into your legs. You didn’t care, he knew that but at least this time you had warning. You crouched to her level, arms open wide as she collided with you. 

“There's my favorite customer! You’re later than normal, I thought I missed you” you chuckled, holding her tight as she giggled. Leon stood to the side a smile forming on his lips as he watched over the interaction. He was holding her little pink backpack over his shoulder, His leather jacket was done up tightly around him, a black scarf laying uneven around his neck. “She finally decided to have a lay in,” he chuckled, his hand soothing the girl's head once again as you pulled away from her. The interaction had gained the attention of the other customers, all of them smiling at the poor 4 year old who now cowered behind her daddy's leg. “You guys just want the usual?” You asked him, holding your hand out for her to take as you began guiding them to the closest booth. 

Leon watched as his angel sprinted to your hand, grasping it tightly before her rambles began again. No longer scared thanks to your distraction. “Please, though a latte instead of the usual black coffee today” Leon replied as he took off her coat and helped her slide in the booth. “Finally get some sleep?” You asked with a sweet smile. You always gave him one of those, it was his little treat in the morning. One of the reasons he even came back here, seeing you interact with his daughter whilst he nursed the headache. You didn't care if your shift just started or you were about to finish, you always slid into the booth and spoke to him. Gave him the sense of normalcy he needed when stress ate away at him, when he would return from a mission the horrors still haunting him every time he blinked. You were there. Always there.

“Enough that the coffee doesn't need to be strong” he chuckled. You smiled again, a silent encouragement towards him that he needed. You didn't know what he did for work, you didn't care. That's why you were loved here, sitting with anyone that looked like they needed it. The interactions give a sense of community to the lonely souls that washed up here. He was proud that he and his little girl got all of it when they came in. She needed a bond like this, maybe someday she would be able to turn to you for things she couldn’t talk to him about. It was a dangerous line to think about, it often left him thinking about what things could be if he took it further. If maybe you were a part of her life in a way that was more than just the kind lady that gave her extra pancakes. 

“I mean it's an improvement at least. Do we have Bunny with us today?” You asked, turning towards the girl that finally got herself situated. You laughed as Marie proudly showed it off, her small fingers wrapped tightly around the droopy ears. “What flavour pancakes are we both having today?” 

Leon couldn’t help but flash another smile at the way you were talking to her…and the rabbit toy. Watching these interactions didn’t stop the yearning for you he felt. However, Marie was still so young, introducing someone in her life that could possibly fill the role he couldn’t might end badly. Having to explain why they aren’t there anymore if things didn’t work out was something that always lingered in the back of his mind. When it comes to the relationship that she had with you he doesn’t want to ruin it because of a small blooming crush. It wouldn’t be fair for her or you. 

He watched you disappear to the kitchen, Marie finally turning to him again with the colouring activities you had placed on the table. Just like everyday he found himself colouring neatly in the lines of the silly cartoons on the paper. Whilst she scribbled blue over the top. She was lucky it was his favorite colour, so he could pardon her for ruining his neat lines. The vibrations in his pocket broke the bubble of peace he has created, a reminder of his responsibilities. The world didn’t care if it was a saturday. 

You watched from the coffee machine his brows pinch in frustrations, heard his tone become short as he looked down at his angel. You knew it wasn’t a good phone call, likely him being called into work again. When you finally placed his drink next to the crayons that were chaotically laid around the table. The phone call ended and Leon was now laid back against the seat in defeat. “Is there anything I can help you with?” You asked him, sitting across from him in the booth. Your knee bumped against his, drawing his attention from the rather boring ceiling lights back to you. You offered him a tight lipped smile whilst he thought about your question. 

“Work called me in…something about…important reports” He groaned, his hand reaching for the latte. It was funny watching his brows pinch at confusion as the latte art that stared back at him. A funny idea at the time, a cute smiley face. “You always order a black coffee so I never get to do my infamous art” You laughed. Leon smiled a soft chuckle escaping his lips, his frustrations momentarily on hold as he looked at the smiley face that stared back at him. You watched his adam's apple bob as he sipped the hot beverage. The burn of the liquid is a more favourable one compared to the other drinks he was used to. “There's no one to watch her. Everyone I trust is busy” He sighed, leaning back against the chair in defeat. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Leon paused, his whole body stiffened at your question. His gaze was intense as he scanned you contemplating your words. “I do” He nodded, “But whilst you’re at work? I can’t ask you to watch her as you do that” 

“Leon, I promise you it’s fine. I go off shift in a few minutes anyway. You both came in later remember” 

You watched him think it over again, his eyes flicking between you and his angel. It wasn’t about her this time, he knew she would be in good hands with you. The time you spend bonding over the years he’s visited didn’t account for nothing. He was just…thankful you would do this for him. To change the plans of your day to help him, it was a strange feeling in his chest. Perhaps his weakness is his little girl, if any woman showed an ounce of love towards her he would fall to his knees it would appear. “If it’s not too much trouble, I can drop you off at mine or yours…I don’t know which is easiest” He sighed, his hands grasping the mug tightly. 

You didn’t miss how tight his grip was, his nerves put on a back pedal for her. A wall that he held proudly and strongly to ensure Marie never knew what was happening. “Your place is fine. Besides, watching Movies all day with this little sweetheart sounds much better than laundry” You joked, looking over at the young girl that finally perked her head up at your sentence. Her blond hair swished rapidly as she nodded excitedly at the idea of a playdate with you. 

Marie’s reaction sold him. She was never this excited when the others looked at her, it was like she had forgotten about him entirely. He watched as she scooted around to your side of the table, the scribbled mess being dragged with her. “Thank you” He sighed, his posture finally relaxed again. “You don’t have to thank me” 

“I do” 

The car ride lacked any awkwardness. It felt almost like you belonged in the passenger seat, belting out the songs with your favourite duo. Despite the fact you were the only person in tune and singing the correct words. You didn’t miss his smile or the twinkle in his eyes. Leon had his arm propped up on the door of the car, his eyes remained on the road. You almost wanted to reach over the center console and lay your hand on his thigh but that would be wrong. You weren’t doing this to get in his pants. 

You did it because despite the way he hid behind a wall of cringey dad jokes and his care for others…for his daughter, you saw his longing for a complete family. So he didn’t have to explain why every kid had a mommy and she didn’t, to have a conversation as to why she wasn’t wanted by someone in that way. He craved for someone to fill the gap that was so glaringly obvious in this house– you could see it despite the fact he never mentioned it. Never asked for it either, he dealt with the hand he was given just as he always did. 

It wasn’t wrong for you to think it could be you. To hope it could be you. You loved them both, they created a sense of safety just as you did for them. It was clear that you would be a perfect match with how natural this felt. You understood why he was cautious, you knew he was a man with a dark past – a closet full of skeletons. It didn’t stop you from wanting him to dive head first into his arms without caring about what happens after. You needed them as much as they needed you. 

Leon gave you a quick tour as well as a scribbled note of her evening routine in fear he couldn’t escape early enough. Until eventually with enough reassurance from you and slobbery kisses from his toddler he left. Leaving you both to a house stocked with enough blankets to build a fort. 

“So…how about we build a palace?” You asked the girl, looking down at where she was standing next to you. Her face covered in a small pout, her bunny clutched tightly in her arms as she waited for her dad to come back. It was adorable to see this side of her because normally you would only catch the energetic side where she would talk to you for hours over pancakes. You didn’t see the quiet toddler, the shy one that needed her daddy to feel safe.  Marie looked up at you, her brain considering the idea before shyly nodding a grin slowly replacing the frown. You knelt before her, taking one of her small hands in your own. A large grin plastered on your face when you asked “Where are all the blankets?” 

Some would call it a mess but you would call the perfect palace for the perfect little princess. At least she was treated as such in this house. The floor was covered in the couch cushions, Leon’s duvet laid over the top creating a layer of comfort. Trust the man to not cheap out on his bedding, the feather duvet felt heavenly as you both tested out beforehand. You tried to ignore the butterflies that became persistent as you became surrounded by the scent of him. The Cedarwood and musk instantly calms the two of you. 

She helped you hold the blankets as you pinned them in place. Running around giggling as she collected her favorite stuffed toys to add inside, the giant squishmellows worked as the perfect cushions. As you were setting up her star projector for ambience she appeared at the door of the fort in her onesie. The perfect slumber party, it was a shame you didn't have your PJs.

 “Looking cute” you smiled at the girl, watching her spin around to show it off. The unicorn onesie was a clash of bright pinks and purples, but it suited her perfectly. You couldn't have picked out a better one for her yourself. “Do you not have one?” She asked, walking closer to you for help with the zipper. You watched her brain contort as you helped her. Seeing the adorable comparison between her and her father's micro expressions, the way her brows pinched together as she thought. Her toothy grin now replaced with a tight lipped smile, almost like she was thinking of a solution that didn't involve you just cuddling in your work uniform. “It's okay, sweetheart. You're so cosy that it's enough for the both of us” you grinned hoping it will wipe away the slight frown on her face. 

You held out your hand offering it to her so she could follow you to the kitchen as you prepared her dinner. She sat on the counter watching you from a safe distance, rambling about anything that came into her mind. You tried to ignore the rising baby fever in the situation. Tried to ignore how natural this felt…how domestic it felt. 

The two of you were so engrossed in the domestic atmosphere that you missed the slam of the front door. As well as missing the muttered ‘what the fuck’ as the intruder approached the living room and was met with the cosy fort. Leon was home earlier than he thought, not that he was going to argue anyway. He was grateful for it, not wanting to keep you any longer than he needed. He also knew first hand how hard bath and bedtime was with his girl. However when he turned around, naturally following the sound of laughter his heart stuttered at the sight. It was everything he wanted for her…for himself. 

After putting the dinner in the oven you were now dancing around with the young girl to some random disney song you chose on your phone. Her small hands in yours, her blond hair whipping around with her. Laughter filled his home, it warmed the space up, ignited the home feeling he always craved for her. Leon wanted nothing more than to move and press himself against the sway of your hips. His eyes flicked between the enjoyment of the moment and you. There was no denying his attraction anymore, not when he wanted nothing more than to finally claim you as part of this family…as his. You slotted so perfectly – there was no other option than you belonging here. 

“So was I not invited to this party?” Leon chuckled, his voice cutting through the enjoyment of swaying and jumping. Marie let go of your hands, her small frame bolting it to him, the laughter following her. Was it wrong to think about how good it would feel to join in their hug? To have him press a kiss against your temple as you both welcomed him home. The more you stayed the more you wanted it. Wanted him. “Well, we set up a movie night for the two of you to enjoy” You spoke, smiling at him softly before gathering your things. You needed to leave, they didn’t need you here. He had told you countless times he wanted to focus on her and not a woman…not until she was old enough. 

“You’re leaving?” Leon questioned, placing Marie back on her feet before guiding her gently to her toys. She didn’t argue, not with him. “Uh…yeah, you are back right? I don’t want to intrude or anything” You replied standing awkwardly at the doorway of the hall. Leon looked between you and the fort, his brows furrowing as he fought with himself to let the question slip between his lips. The invitation to stay the night. He would be more than happy to sleep on the couch…or what remained of the couch. If it meant that you stayed, that you could keep the happiness you bought in the home he wanted you in and not the booth. “Please stay, I hate for you to waste all your time making a cool fort and not use it” He invited, a small smirk placed on his lips. 

There was no argument that would be valid, not when he looked at you like that. When his eyes spoke louder than his mouth, his silent admission that he wanted you here. “I suppose it would be pretty lame to miss out after all that effort” You smiled, setting your bag back down on the kitchen table. Your coat was forgotten from where it was draped along the dining chair. You couldn’t help but blush as the intensity of his expression increased, for once he looked relaxed and happy. 

It was hard not to admire him in the dim light of the laptop screen, to see the way his arm held the now sleeping toddler against him. He knew he should have carried her to bed a while ago but she was the only thing keeping you separate from him, a barrier he didn’t realise he needed until he looked at your content face. Watch the rise and fall of your chest as you laughed at the movie. “Guess I’ll put her to bed” He whispered, adjusting the girl onto his lap so he could carefully carry her. It was hard not to notice the muscles move, his arms on display now his jacket had been discarded. 

It was cute seeing him struggle to manoeuvre himself out of the door, silently fighting with the blanket you used. Leon froze when your fingers brushed past him, his breath catching in his throat as he caught the smell of your perfume as you leaned forwards to pull the blanket aside. “Thanks,” He muttered. He couldn’t look at the soft smile on your face, not when you were this close. The few loose strands of your hair tickling his cheek as you nodded. 

He took the time to steady himself as he put Marie to bed.He sat in the silence of the room watching the slow rise and fall of her chest; a sign that she was okay as always. It reminded him of when she was first born and he would sit and watch her newborn chest rise and fall not quite believing that she was okay, that she was really there. He was so alone in those moments, spending so many nights wondering if he was really cut out for this shit. Yet, when he texted you, late at night begging for someone to talk to after she wouldn’t stop crying, you always replied. Then when morning came and the tired father made his appearance at the cafe, a baby finally asleep in the car seat still, you soothed him and her. 

It was only then he realised that you integrated yourself in their life, helped them in the role they both needed…a mother and a partner. With one more kiss to her head Leon left the room finally deciding to be a little selfish for once. 

He had to admit it felt pretty stupid crawling back into the tent, the lack of his child changing the atmosphere now there wasn’t a barrier in between the two of you. “Did she wake up?” You asked him, his thigh pressed against yours. It felt childish sitting in this fort, like no one was going to hear the admissions you both clearly wanted to release. “She didn’t” 

The silence wasn’t awkward, that much Leon was thankful for. He just had so much to say, so many things to thank you for. This was too much, helping him out, looking after her like this. Marie never argued whilst you looked after her, he didn’t have a text to inform him of a tantrum she had. “I need to thank you” He whispered, his attention solely remaining on his hands, picking at the skin nervously. You didn’t respond, instead you watched him. Watched as the slow creep of blush bloomed upon his cheeks under your gaze. His eyes flicking to the side and back to you. Leon always oozes confidence, never once showing you the person behind the front. Now his daughter wasn’t here…he didn’t have to pretend he was strong. That he didn’t need validation of his efforts in her life. 

“You’re a good dad, Leon. The best I’ve seen” You spoke softly. He jumped as your hand slid into his, squeezing it gently.

 “You think so?” 

When he turned to look at you, you finally broke. His eyes were soft  as if he couldn't believe the words you spoke, the small praises that left your lips. It was foreign to him. He gasped when your lips pressed against his, his hands instantly pulling you onto his lap holding you tightly. “I know so” You whispered when you pulled away, your foreheads touching. The longer you sat on him like this, relishing in the feel of his hands – his cock hardened. He couldn’t help it, not when your lips learned his quickly already tugging on the bottom one with your teeth. The harder he got, the more greedy he became. 

Leon’s tongue ran along the bottom of your lips, prodding gently between them demanding access before slipping in. He whimpered as you moved, the subtle attempt at getting closer dragging along his throbbing dick. You heard his breaths as you pulled away, your hands slipping underneath your shirt. Dragging the fabric above your head slowly. “Fucking hell” He groaned, his hands already moving up your waist. You moaned as his lips attacked your sides, kissing and biting his way along them. You threw your head back, breathing heavily at his affection. Each pinch of pain adds to your now throbbing core. 

The more he tasted, the more he wanted. You didn’t care how he pulled you to the side, manoeuvring you so he was above. You watched his abs clench as he pulled his shirt off, you were sure he was flexing them but you weren’t one to judge. Not when he was so pretty like this and it wasn’t because of the stars that projected over his skin. “That thing is so bright” He laughed, lowering his head to nip at the nape of your neck, sucking softly at the skin, whilst he hid away from the projector. “I mean it’s sort of romantic, we are under the stars I guess” 

It was only fitting that as he removed your final layers you were both enclosed in the fort, that this little moment was for the both of you and not the outside world. He wouldn’t let his horrors taint you or Marie. Not in this apartment. His mouth attached itself to your pussy, his tongue working on thick stripes between your folds. Leon needed to worship you, to taste the sweetness you allowed him too. No amount of orgasms he could give you would even make up the slow burn of this moment. Of all the time you listened to both him and his daughter crying down the phone offering only your kindness. 

He nipped at your sensitive bud, sucking the whines out of your body. He loved the way your thighs squeezed around his head, muffling his senses. His hands pried your thighs apart, keeping you open for him as he continued his assault. “Don’t close up on me now” He mumbled against your lips, each breath cooling the arousal and saliva that collected on your skin. 

Leon got lost in you, the taste, feel, scent of you. Nothing else mattered. It wasn’t fair you couldn’t please him; give him the pleasure and relaxation he needed. Leon wasn’t sure he was going to be able to look you in the eyes and take your love, the pleasure and attention he needed from someone that wasn’t his little girl or his friends. For now he allowed himself to get drunk on the taste of you. 

Your hands tugged at his brown hair, pulling him closer to your core. You could feel his breaths against your skin, sucking in harshly against your twitching clit. “Leon-” 

He moaned at the plea of his name, wanting to draw it from you again and again. He worked harder, his tongue prodding against your entrance entering you briefly before continuing its sloppy attack on your clit. He could feel you buck against this face, your thighs shaking as they tried to close around him. He needed to give this to you, to allow you one orgasm before his own. It had been so long since he experienced this, the love was suffocating, making him dizzy. He wasn’t sure how long he would last when he was finally able to sink into you. 

Leon smirked as he felt your body relax and slump against the bed. It was only then he lifted away from you, spit and arousal coating his puffy lips. His eyes were hazy as they stared down at your form. You watched his cock twitch above you in the dim light, the heat you were both creating causing a light layer of sweat to form over the two of you. When you finally met his eyes again you smiled, so sweetly at him he felt his arms buckle. “I want you Leon…I want to be a part of your life, this home…please” You begged. 

It was different than anything he wanted, you weren’t begging for the pleasure he could give you but instead for the love. The stability of a family. You were begging to intricate yourself in this home, in their life deeper than you already have. Who was he to deny you? Leon didn’t respond when he hitched your thighs on his, aiming his leaking tip towards your entrance. You felt his fingertips run along your hips, his eyes watching for your approval. “I want you to be too” He groaned as his tip notched at your entrance. 

Your eyes flicked down waiting to watch as he sunk himself deep inside of you, but he didn’t move. Leon’s eyes were shut tights, his breaths coming out short and sweet as he felt your entrance twitch around his hip. Your intense gaze begging for him to move silently. Instead, once he had collected himself he moved. Sliding his cock throughout your folds, the tip making its appearance before sliding back out of view. You felt every one of his veins then ran along the underside of his dick, his pre-cum smearing with the arousal that dripped out of you. 

Leon smirked as he watched you whimper each time he pressed himself against your clit. The sharp bolts of pleasure had you arching into him, wriggling in an attempt to notch himself inside you. Just like the both of you needed. To your credit it worked, his lubricated cock slid in with ease, a moan of his filling the tent. It was loud, of course he was going to be loud…it had been so long since he felt this. Poor guy was so selfless. 

Your breath hitched as you stretched to accommodate his size. He filled you perfectly. There was no stopping him, not when he felt you like this. Not when he sunk so perfectly in your warmth, your body doing nothing but love him back. Your body arched into him, your hips angled perfectly to add the friction you needed from his happy trail. His arms flexed next to your head as he hovered above you further. You hadn’t expected him to be so vocal, to be so demanding with your pleasure before his. 

“Fuck-” He grunted, the restraint snapping as he craved more, craved to be deeper. To bury himself to the hilt inside you. You didn’t object, you wouldn’t - not when it felt so fucking good. The wet sounds of your pussy and his low grunts filled your ears. It was too much, you lost yourself in the sounds, drooling and begging for more. His hips snapped harder, his hand grasping as the sheets near your head. You were suffocated in the feel of him, the scent that lingers the duvet beneath you, his lips that dragged across your breasts. 

“Come on, you’re so close for me baby…I can feel it” He begged. “Please…baby…” 

He felt his balls tighten, he was too close…far too close. He wanted the release, to feel his cum spill inside of you but it’s been so long. So long since he’s felt this, buried his cock in something that wasn’t a cheap flesh light or his lubed hand. You whined when he stopped moving, instead sat his cock so far inside you. It now twitched as your walls clenched around him, his eyes screwing shut as he willed his orgasm away for just a little longer. Edging himself like he’s done many times before. 

Leon’s grip was tight on your hips as you attempted to writhe against him, to draw the pleasure that was fading away back. “Stop…I don’t want to cum yet” He grunted, his grip was bruising as he desperately commanded you to stop. “Leon – Please..I was so close” 

“I know…christ woman be patient please” 

You waited, your hips stilled but the whimpers still escaped your lips. His fingers toyed with your clit, pulling the hood back to expose the erect nerve. Your whimpers turned into moans, your hands grasping at his wrist leaving small crescent marks as you dug them “Please…yes…” You begged as he continued his assault. Your walls clenched around his stiff length that was still buried inside you, stuffed so far inside it made your eyes water. He didn’t stop the squirm of your hips, not when they loosely circled around his cock. Giving him some form of pleasure as he throbbed inside of you. 

He knew you were close, the volume now being replaced with breathless whimpers. “Come on baby…I know you’re there” He mumbled against the skin of your breast. His teeth tugging and sucking on the peaked buds, devouring the flesh as you pressed it further into his mouth. The pleasure was searing hot throughout your system, your brain lingering on the edge of too much and not enough. You needed him to pump everything he could inside you, to feel his cock drag in and out of your walls in a desperate speed. 

“Leon please…move…There’s going to be more times we can do this” 

You were right, he knew you were but it didn’t stop him from wanting to take his time. To worship you at the same time he got to sink himself into you. He knew a few thrusts is all it would take to send him over the edge, his pleasure too close to guarantee the feeling of yours first. “No baby…you can do it like this, I’m filling you up nice” He groaned, his lips detaching themselves from your swollen nipple. His attention already moved to your other one whilst his finger flicked and circled around your sensitive buds. “Leon–” 

He ignored you, his hips never moving. His cock twitching inside you, his fingers and tongue working on your nerves was all you were going to get. Leon eventually smiled when he started to feel your body tighten up around him. Your thighs twitching over his, hips grinding against him no matter how hard he tries to stop it. With a whine you came, gushing around his cock as it twitched painful like it was begging for him to finally move. 

Leon whimpered as he began to drag his cock out of your walls fucking you to overstimulation. His head falling into the crevice of your neck kissing the soft skin of your collarbone. “Fuck…you are so good” He whined. He focused on himself, his balls tightening, preparing to release himself deep inside of you for the first time. “I love you Leon” You breathed against his hair, kissing the crown of his head. His thrust was sharp as he finally spilled himself inside of you. You smiled at the warmth it gave off, the feeling of him filling you. 

Leon didn’t move away, he remained where he was, in this small bubble of safety – comfort – love. 

“I love you too” He mumbled against your skin. With a small tug on his hair he lifted his head. The kiss you shared was nothing short of perfection, the unspoken words you both had to say pouring into it softly. Not like before. The two of you settled, exhaustion lingering as you watched the stars move around on the blankets. The silence felt right, his heart beating steadily lulled you to sleep. He pulled one of the many blankets around the two of you, holding you close as the tiredness crept in for him as well. 

The sound of giggles awoke you, the soft music filling the room. You spotted his shirt next to you, folded neatly with a clean pair of his boxers placed on top. The blanket closed, giving you the privacy you needed to change. As you pulled back the blanket you faltered observing the scene in front of you. Marie was propped against his hip, her head tucked against his shoulder as the scent of bacon welcomed you. Soft rock filtered around the kitchen, different to the usual disney songs. “Morning” You greeted him, your hand encircling his waist on the other side. He jolted at your touch, still not used to someone other than his daughter wanting to be close. 

His unease faded as he smiled, brighter than any you have seen in the years you have known him. This is what he wanted, what he needed. You smelled of him, the slight musk that lingered on his shirt permating your skin. You looked adorable, comfortable, happy. 

“We were just making you breakfast, someone was excited to see you stayed the night” He laughed. Adjusting Marie on his hip as he tried to prepare the breakfast. “Lucky me” You spoke, holding your hands out for his daughter. The small girl smiled, happily moving from Leon to you. Her arms wrapped tightly around your neck as you both watched him finish off. You truly did belong here. 

[my-castles-crumbling]

naive - march 22 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 269

The accusation slipped out in the middle of an argument. Something Regulus had been thinking for far too long, but had never meant to say out loud. But as soon as he said it, he couldn’t take it back.

“You’re naive!” he exclaimed, one night as they whisper-shouted at each other in the middle of an abandoned classroom, somehow having gone from snogging each other breathless to panting from their war of words. “How can you think this will work, Potter? We’re set up for disaster, you must know this! There’s a million scenarios in which this will go wrong!”

But James just frowned, his voice quiet and patient for once in his life, a contrast to Regulus’s boiling rage. “And there’s ways that this can work, too, Reg. I really think there’s a future where we can be together, and we’ll both live, and we’ll marry and have a life together. But,” he swallowed, eyes growing pained and watery, “even if we don’t….why do you insist on wasting the time we do have by thinking about the so-called inevitable ending?”

At this, Regulus deflated, air knocked out of him, eyes fixated on James’s broken expression, entire body shaking with emotion and fear.

“I think you have to decide if it’s worth it,” James shrugged, stepping back, causing Regulus’s body to go cold. “I can’t convince you, you know?”

And, as Regulus watched James walk to the door, his entire body screamed at him to say something. To go after him. But also to run in the other direction.

He spoke as James’s palm touched the wood.

“Wait.”

[epic-sorcerer]

“Arthur can totally dress himself he’s just spoiled” why are you giving him that much credit

[fidgetyhands]

11. If you consistently find reasons to procrastinate spending time with a person or social group, or if you consistently feel bad after spending time with them, think seriously about whether you want to keep them in your life.

12. Have friends who you can talk about emotions with.

13. Have people you trust who you are not dating, having sex with, or even flirting with.

14. Figure out systems of handling your life that work for you (and other people involved in those parts of your life). Some people do better with laundry every Sunday. Some people do better with laundry when they run out of clean socks. Some people do better with laundry when they're bored. None of these are right or wrong; it's just about what works for you and your situation.

15. You will find that you know other adults who just can't handle dish water or cleaning a toilet or a vacuum cleaner or grocery shopping or remembering tasks. Some of these people may be roommates or romantic partners. If they're willing to work to find a solution that works for both of you, great! One of you can scrub the pots and the other can buy the groceries. Or they get a Roomba and keep it in good running order. Or they buy seriously protective gloves for dishwashing. Or you draw up a chore chart together. If they treat it as a hard stop with no consideration for you and no attempt to balance the load (I can't touch dish water, so you will be washing all the dishes), dump them. They don't care about mutually beneficial partnership with you.

15a. 15 holds true whether or not you believe their "just can't handle". Maybe they can, maybe they can't, maybe they sometimes can depending on circumstances. They still should still be working with you to figure out the situation, not just dumping it on your head.

16. If your friend or romantic partner or friend-with-benefits is mean to you, consider whether you want them in your life. If you want them in your life, it's worth having a serious conversation with them about the meanness. If they're not willing to change the way they treat you, they're not worth your time.

17. Adult life contains a lot of maintenance work. Washing clothes and taking the car in for service and making doctor's appointments and cleaning the toilet and removing expired food from the fridge and sweeping the floor and taking in the mail and.... It helps to accept it, skill up where you need skills, and in general find ways to make it work for you.

hi any life advice for 21yo

Don't date thirty-year-olds until you are at least 25.

Having a glass of water for every glass of alcohol will give you a 50% reduction in hangover viciousness.

Bad people will use your willingness to be quiet as a weapon against you. If someone's being awful to you and trusting you'll be quiet to keep from making waves, surprise them.

There is no physical object in the world that is worth as much as your honor.

Honor is not the same as dignity. Retaining one sometimes means leaving the other aside.

Don't have any sex you don't want to have; have as much as you want of the sex that you do, whether that's a lot, a little, or none at all. Nothing you can do to your own body is immoral, unless you're doing it as an act of self-punishment.

Food is morally neutral. You do not have to earn the right to eat calories. Fat and sugar keep your brain from eating itself.

Learning to sit still and breathe--in, in, in, hold, hold, hold, out, out, out, out, out, out--can give you five feet of clear space around yourself in a maelstrom.

Find out how to make three good meals: A comfort meal you can make for just yourself relatively easily, a fancy meal you can use to wow a date, and a meal you can feed a bunch of people. All the other cooking can come later, but you can build a community on those three meals.

If you ever get to the point that things are so bleak you can see no other way forward but to die, make any other choice. If that means leaving everything you own and being a beach bum, or quitting your career, or taking up or leaving a religion, or deciding to bicycle across the country, so be it; living means more chances, dying means everything stops and you don't get to see any more interesting things. As you have not yet seen all the things that can interest you, it is better to live.

[fincherly]

my gf was looking through wesker's wiki page (as you do) and sent me this

and i lost my shit bc it just seems like they're looking at him like girls look at a weird bug

[transannabeth]

btw if you borrow dvds or cds from library you can rip them onto your own blanks or onto your hard drive or whatever. librarians don’t care and they won’t know if you do it or not

[yhwcomeback]

I know people be hating on this fit, BUT THE RACER VIBES???? Listen.

[jonnyardor]

I'm reminded by a philosophy book I read in January 2023 for the first time. Sun Tzu - The Art Of War, Chapter 7.36 : Maneuvering “When you surround an army, leave an outlet free. Do not press a desperate foe too hard.Leave the enemy a way to escape; otherwise, he will fight you to the end.I couple this with a quote from Victor Frankl, psychologist and Holocaust survivor:Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.Maybe even the most downtrodden can survive anything when they fight for their basic rights such as the right to live or the self-Worth as a human which is threatened by external forces .Enlightenment follows only after a dark night of the soul, crises are opportunities for growth and turnarounds, Revolutions only happen at rock bottom moments. Conflict and resolution need each other, whether in music theory or in social life.I know it's a deep and heavy answer to a light-hearted question of what it could mean when "a worm is turning in his grave". My answer would be a downtrodden individual or group remembers it's inherent worth during the height of oppression, a sentiment they hold onto long after their natural deaths.

Remembered the phrase "[someone] is turning in his grave", as a way of saying that someone who's now dead would so deeply disapprove of something that a living person is doing that their corpse would stir in unease.

Then I remembered an expression, "even a worm will turn", as a way of saying that no matter how downtrodden or lowly someone seems, they can nonetheless turn against their abusers and oppressors once they've had enough of it.

Then cross-contamination happened and the phrase "a worm is turning in his grave" emerged to me. I have no idea what that means.

[uncanny-tranny]

The leftism/anticapitalism leaving people's bodies the zeptosecond you imply that disabled people who aren't "productive" still matter in society and need to be treated like intrinsic equals who have a place in this world:

[devotion-disorder]

it ok yall i caved and bought the game moments after i made my last post and im living out my blissful love life now

this screenshot out of context is taking me out lol hes like you are.🫵 dumbass?😄 you🫵 illiterate🫵😄

Ive got through most of the game and boy i have some THOUGHTS... spoilers under the cut!!

I didn't expect to like the game so much cause im not actually that much of a horror fan (<- squeamish) , and like i said in the last post I wasn't sure how fun a game all about decrypting the dialogue will be (<- dumbass). But in the end I think the game mechanics is exactly the source of all the charm!! And come to think of it, it's a very unique mechanic too. The word-guessing makes the game exciting and scary (and sometimes is the key to avoiding certain death), but there's also just something about overcoming "broken" language to express your thoughts that is inherently really sweet to me. Maybe this is a wild comparison but its like that greentext thats like "bad times friend ahead...i go away but we are two of soul, i will return".

The game is also just pretty player-friendly, and the characters are all (well, mostly) really chill, so it wasnt very hard to guess most of the words too. But i will say that sometimes, you can kind of tell the nuance of the language-translation makes more sense as Japanese, so maybe that gave me a slight edge.

After playing the demo I thought this would be a really short game (like around 2-3 hrs), but I clocked in a solid 6 hours today LOL...and im still missing a few endings. Big spoiler but when MC "kills" Mr. crawling it genuinely upset me like GIRL WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL..........😭😭😭 but thank god he was fine :DD the scene where he shut himself in a closet crying because he thought the MC abandoned him 😭😭😭😭 IM SORRYYY but also like omg...😭😭😭😭 he ouppy............😭😭😭😭

ouppy 🥹🥹🥹🥹🫳🫳🫳🫳🫳👐👐👐👐😭😭😭😭😭😭

But in contrast to those heavy moments there are also points where i think the game doesn't take itself very seriously LOL so by like 3 hours in it just kind of became a really chill game :)) I love how the MC is just so ridiculously forward being like "Do you have a crush on me or something 🥺👉👈" and most of them were just like "whats that lmfao"