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drippingghoneyy · 2 days ago

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Nothing To You - Silco X Fem!Reader

Summary: You argued with Jinx, which escalated into a conflict with Silco. You need him to care about both you and Jinx's well-being. He needs to focus on what’s in front of him.

Genre/ Pairing: Smut, Make-Up Sex, Argument, Silco x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: MDNI!, SMUT 18+, Smoking/Drinking, Crying, tension, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, pet names, whore, piv, squirting, fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex ( f receiving), tongue fucking,... (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: 13k.

Notes: I am sorry it’s so long, I like to develop a story😭

I’ve been wanting to write about more people! So give me suggestions!

Reblog and like!! I read every comment, they make my whole day!

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

The echoes of your footsteps bounced off the cold, concrete walls of the labyrinthine halls. Your breath came out in furious puffs, each exhale a declaration of your frustration. You had just come from a heated confrontation with Jinx, Silco's volatile and unpredictable daughter. Her eyes, usually a brilliant shade of blue that could charm the most stoic of souls, were now ablaze with rebellion.

The fight had started innocently enough. You'd only wanted to protect her, to shield her from the harsh realities of the world you both knew too well. "You're too young," you'd insisted, your voice tight with concern. "This mission is for the experienced, for those who have seen more than their share of blood."

But she was insistent, her voice rising with every word. "I can handle it," she spat, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm not a child anymore."

You watched her, the fiery determination in her eyes, and felt a twinge of pride. But the fear for her safety was stronger. "You're not ready," you said firmly, the words cutting through the tension like a knife.

Jinx's eyes narrowed, the gears of defiance turning in her head. "You're not my mom," she retorted, the words landing like a slap across your face.

The words hung in the air between you, charged with accusation and anger. You felt a surge of heat rush through your veins, a potent cocktail of love and exasperation. "I'm still fucking your dad," you shot back, the words leaving your mouth before you had the chance to think twice. The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of your words. Jinx's cheeks flushed with a mix of shock and rage.

In the aftermath of the explosive statement, you felt your own emotions unravel. You hadn't meant to say it, not like that. It was a slip, a clumsy retort born of the tumult of feelings inside you. The bond you shared with Silco was complex, a tapestry of passion, loyalty, and the weight of shared secrets. But here it was, thrown out like a grenade in the middle of an already volatile situation.

Jinx's eyes went wide, the color draining from her face. She looked at you with a mix of horror and disbelief, the fight in her posture deflating. You could see the cogs in her mind spinning, trying to process what you'd just said.

It was a low blow, one you hadn't intended to deliver. But the words had slipped out, a reflexive defense against her accusation, a reminder that she wasn't the only one who felt misunderstood.

As the silence stretched taut between you, you wished you could snatch them back, swallow them down like a bitter pill. But it was too late. The damage was done.

You felt a pang of guilt, a stab of regret that you hadn't found a better way to communicate your fears. But the anger still smoldered within you, a coal that had been poked too many times. You weren't her mother, but you had played the role of protector for so long that it felt as if you were.

With a heavy sigh, you turned on your heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the echo of your footsteps to mock you as you went. You needed to clear your head, to figure out how to fix this mess before it spun out of control.

You knew that Silco would hear about this, and you dreaded the conversation that was sure to come. But for now, you just needed space, a place to breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders.

The walk to Silco's office felt like an eternity, each step a deliberate stride away from the girl you had just hurt. The halls grew quieter as you approached, the usual cacophony of the undercity muffled by the thick walls of the building. You could almost feel the anger coiling back up inside you with every footfall, a serpent ready to strike again. Jinx had no right to say those things to you, not after everything you'd done for her.

You had been there for her, through the late nights when she couldn't sleep, the endless days of training, the tears shed in frustration. You had been the one to pick her up when she fell, to wipe her nose and whisper words of encouragement when she thought she couldn't go on. And now she was questioning your intentions, throwing your relationship with her father in your face like a weapon.

Finally, you arrived at the large, dark door that led to Silco's inner sanctum. The brass knob was cold under your hand, a stark reminder of the chilly reception you were likely to receive once you stepped over the threshold. A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold but from the anticipation of what was to come. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the storm that was about to break.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the dimly lit room, the scent of leather and oil lingering in the air. Silco sat on the couch, his usual aura of stoicism cracked, revealing the storm clouds gathering behind his eyes.

He looked up as you entered, his gaze sharp, demanding an explanation without uttering a single word. You felt the weight of his stare, a silent reprimand that was almost more powerful than any shout could ever be.

The office was a testament to his power, filled with artifacts of his reign over the city, each one a trophy of his cunning and might. Your eyes swept over them, a silent acknowledgment of the man you were about to face. Heart hammered in your chest, the echoes of the argument still resonating through you.

Silco's posture was relaxed yet commanding, one arm draped over the back of the leather couch, the other holding a half-smoked cigar that danced with embers at the tip. His legs were crossed, the ankle of one boot resting on the opposite knee.

He hadn't moved when you entered, his gaze unwavering and sharp, like the blade of a knife that hadn't been cleaned in a while. It was as if he had been carved from the very shadows that painted the room, a silent sentinel waiting for you to make your next move.

The tension grew as you approached, your steps slow and measured, trying to navigate the minefield of your own emotions. You knew he was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice had the power to shake the very foundations of your world. The air was thick with the scent of the cigar, mingling with the faint metallic tang of his power, a constant reminder of the volatility that lay beneath his calm exterior.

You swallowed hard, trying to organize your thoughts, but your mind was a whirlwind of doubt and anger. You hadn't wanted to fight with Jinx, but she had pushed you too far. And now here you were, about to face the consequences. You felt like you were on trial, standing before the man who had been both your lover and your boss, the man whose trust you had just shattered with a careless remark.

Silco took a long drag from the cigar, the embers glowing brighter for a moment before he exhaled a plume of smoke. The silence was a living, breathing entity, wrapping around you like a python, squeezing the words from your lungs.

You searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his features remained a mask of stoicism. His eyes, however, told a different story, flickering with a mix of anger and disappointment that stung like acid.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You know why she's so eager to go?" His voice was low, a rumble of thunder in the quiet room. "She's trying to find her place in this world, just like you did." The words hung between you, a challenge and an accusation rolled into one. He took another drag, the smoke curling around his head like a crown of mist.

"You've been her mentor, her guide," he continued, his tone even but the message clear. "But she's not a child anymore, and she'll make her own choices, just as you did when you came to me." His words were like a knife twisting in your gut, each one cutting deeper than the last. You knew he was right, but it didn't make the sting any less potent.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. What could you say to defend yourself? That you were just looking out for her? That you didn't want to see her get hurt? It all sounded so hollow now, standing in the face of his quiet dominance. You felt small, insignificant, like a bug that had dared to challenge a giant.

Silco's cigar smoldered between his fingers, the only sign of his own internal turmoil. His arm was casually thrown over the back of the couch, his legs crossed in a way that spoke of confidence and authority.

He didn't need to stand to intimidate; his presence filled the room, a looming specter that was impossible to ignore. The flame from the cigar cast flickering shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

The silence grew heavier, pressing down on you like a physical force. You could hear the tick of the clock on the wall, each second a countdown to the inevitable. Your palms grew slick with sweat, your heart racing like a caged animal desperate for escape.

But you couldn't look away from him, his eyes a piercing and seemed to bore into your very soul. You knew that when he finally spoke, his words would be measured.

"Is that what you really think?" Silco's voice was low and controlled, a stark contrast to the tumult inside you. "That she's not ready because she's just a child?" His gaze never wavered, a silent demand for you to justify your words. You felt the first flickers of defiance rekindle in your chest. How dare he question you like this? You had been there for her, had watched her grow from a scared girl into a powerful young woman.

"Jinx is more capable than you give her credit for," you shot back, the fire of the argument not quite extinguished. "But she's still impulsive, reckless. She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions."

The words tumbled out, fueled by the residual heat of your earlier confrontation. You had seen the destruction she could leave in her wake when she lost control, had picked up the pieces of her shattered experiments more times than you cared to count.

He leaned forward slightly, the shadows playing across his face, turning his expression into something more menacing. "And who made her that way?" he countered, his voice a soft growl. "Who taught her that chaos is a tool, that fear is power?"

The accusation hit you like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You hadn't meant to make Jinx into a monster; you'd just wanted to give her the strength to survive in a city that devoured the weak without a second thought.

You felt the need to defend yourself, to explain the years of care and guidance you had given her. "I taught her to be strong," you said, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. "To stand up for herself. But she's still so young, Silco. She doesn't understand the gravity of what we're doing here." You took a step closer to him, the anger in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar he held between his fingers.

Silco's silence was a wall, an impenetrable fortress that you were desperately trying to breach. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, the only outward sign of his own inner conflict.

"You're not her mother," he said finally, his voice as cold as the steel of the weapons that lined the walls. "You're her... mentor. And as such, it's your responsibility to support her, not hold her back."

The accusation stung, but you weren't about to back down. You raised your chin, a sardonic smile playing on your lips. "That's right," you said, the words dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not her mom. I'm nothing to her, apparently."

The smile didn't reach your eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once been there when you talked about her. "And you're not her dad, but you're okay with her throwing herself into danger?"

The air in the room grew colder, the tension thick enough to slice through with a knife. You watched the embers of his cigar burn, a silent metaphor for the smoldering anger between you. Silco took a moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke, his words were measured, each one chosen with precision. "I've always known that one day, she would make her own decisions. And I trust her to make the right ones."

The room was a battlefield, and every word was a weapon. You felt the sting of his doubt, the accusation that you were trying to control Jinx's life rather than guide it. "Fine," you said, your voice tight with unshed emotion. "If that's what you think, then I won't stand in her way." You turned on your heel, ready to leave, to find someplace where the walls weren't closing in on you.

But before you could take a step, Silco's hand shot out, his grip on your arm like a vice. "Don't," he said, his voice a warning growl. "Don't you dare walk away from this." His eyes searched yours, looking for something, anything that would tell him you weren't going to abandon her.

You met his gaze, the challenge in your eyes unwavering. "I'm not walking away," you said, your voice low and steady. "But I'm not going to watch her throw herself into the fire without a second thought." The silence between you was a battle of wills, two forces colliding, neither willing to back down.

Silco's grip on your arm tightened, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity that was more powerful than any shout. His silence was a cage, a prison that held you in place, forcing you to confront the truth of his words.

You could feel the anger pulsing through your veins, a red-hot fury that demanded release. But you knew that now was not the time for shouting matches. Now was the time for reason, for understanding.

"You know what she said to me," you whispered, the pain of her words still raw. "How could you defend her after that?" The question hung in the air, a challenge that demanded a response. Silco's grip on your arm didn't loosen, but his gaze softened slightly, the anger in his eyes flickering with something else.

He took a moment before speaking, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very floor beneath your feet. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said, the words a gentle admission. "But she needs to find her own path, just as you did." His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, for a sign that you would relent.

But the anger inside you was a living thing, a beast that had been poked one too many times. You pulled free from his grasp, your voice rising. "And what about me?" you demanded, your eyes flashing. "What about what I need?" The words hung in the air, a declaration of the tumult of emotions that swirled within you.

Silco's expression was unreadable, a mask that had been honed through years of navigating the treacherous waters of power and control. "You know I care for you," he said, his voice low and steady. "But my loyalty is to this city, to the people who depend on us." The words were a slap, a cold reminder that in the grand scheme of things, you were just another pawn in his game of dominance.

You felt the anger bubble up inside you, threatening to spill over. "Is that all I am to you?" you snapped, the words sharp as a whip. "Just another tool to be used and discarded when you deem it necessary?" The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your voice grew louder.

Silco's expression remained impassive, his silence a wall that you couldn't breach. It was infuriating, his calm demeanor only serving to fuel the fire in your belly. "Fuck you, Silco," you spat, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I'm not going to be nothing to anyone, especially not to someone who can't see what's right in front of them."

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the office. The door slammed shut behind you, the echo echoing down the hall like the final nail in a coffin. The rage inside you was a living, breathing creature now, pushing you to walk faster, to run away from the pain of his words.

You didn't know where you were going, only that you needed to get out of there. The labyrinth of the undercity stretched out before you, a maze of shadows and danger. But anywhere was better than the suffocating confines of that room, the room where you had just realized that maybe, just maybe, you had been wrong about everything.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds of the city assaulted your senses. The distant rumble of a hextech engine, the shouts of a street fight, the wail of a siren. It was a symphony of chaos that you had once found comfort in, but now it felt like a taunt, a reminder of the turmoil within.

You didn't look back, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. You just kept walking, your boots pounding against the pavement like the beating of a war drum. The buildings grew taller, the streets more treacherous, but you didn't care.

The wind whipped around you, carrying the scent of rain on the horizon. You felt the first drops hit your face, cold and sharp like tears. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You had to keep moving, had to put as much distance between you and that conversation as you could.

The rain grew heavier, soaking through your clothes, but the chill was nothing compared to the coldness in your heart. You had given so much to Jinx, had been there for her when Silco couldn't. And yet here you were, feeling like you had been discarded, tossed aside like yesterday's newspaper.

You didn't know where you would go, but you knew you couldn't stay. Not now. Not after what had been said. The rain mingled with your tears, blurring the world around you into a haze of color and light. But you didn't let it slow you down. You just kept walking, into the heart of the storm.

Silco's quiet dominance had always been a comfort to you, a rock you could cling to in the chaos of your life. But now it felt like a prison, a cage that kept you from being seen for who you truly were.

You had been his confidant, his right hand, his... something. But now, in the cold light of his accusation, you realized that maybe you were nothing more than a pawn in his grand scheme.

The raindrops stung your skin like tiny needles, each one a painful reminder of your own insignificance. You told him to go fuck himself, the words a declaration of your anger and frustration. He had no right to speak to you like that, to question your love and devotion to him, to Jinx. But he had, and you had no choice but to leave.

The door to the building slammed shut behind you, the finality of it echoing through the alleyways. The city was a blur of shadow and neon, a living, breathing creature that didn't care about your pain. You stumbled through the streets, the rain soaking you to the bone. But you didn't care. You felt alive, the electricity of the storm pulsing through your veins.

You needed to find somewhere to think, somewhere to breathe. Your heart was racing, your mind a maelstrom of emotion. You didn't know what the future held, only that you couldn't go back to the way things were. The bond you shared with Silco had been shattered, and you weren't sure if it could ever be repaired.

Three weeks had passed since that fateful argument, three weeks of silence that stretched like a noose around your neck.

You had thrown yourself into your work, into the very chaos that had once brought you and Silco together. The Undercity knew you, knew the woman who had built an empire by his side. And it was that knowledge that kept you going, the whispers of your name on the streets a balm to your bruised ego.

You took solace in the familiar embrace of the city's underbelly, the grime and the grime of the streets a comforting reminder of your roots. The whispers grew louder, the rumors spreading like wildfire. You had left Silco, they said. You had abandoned your post. But you knew the truth, and it was that truth that kept you going. You weren't leaving; you were fighting for your place.

Sevika had become your confidante, your partner in crime. You two had always had a bond, a shared history of surviving the worst that life could throw at you. And now, as you sat in the dimly lit bar, her hand on your shoulder, you felt the warmth of camaraderie seep into your very bones. She had seen you at your lowest, had picked you up when you were nothing but a broken doll in the hands of fate.

The whiskey burned a trail down your throat, the warmth spreading through your chest like a comforting embrace. The bar was your sanctuary now, the neon lights and the smell of stale beer a stark contrast to the cold, sterile halls of Silco's fortress. You had made it a point to be seen here, to be heard. You didn't need his approval to be important; you had the city's.

The patrons whispered as you entered, their eyes following your every move. They knew you, knew the fire that burned in your soul. You were a legend, a hero, and you were back in the game. Each night you and Sevika would sit, plotting your next move, drinking and laughing and living. It was a dangerous dance, but one that felt so right.

The air was thick with the scent of desperation and hope, a heady mix that only the Undercity could provide. For three weeks, you had avoided Silco's fortress, the place where your heart had once felt like it had found a home.

But now, it was just a prison you had escaped from, the bars of his expectations and the coldness of his words still echoing in your ears. The city had been your playground long before he had entered your life, and it welcomed you back with open arms.

That night, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick with oil and the occasional puddle of rainbow-colored chemical runoff. You were nestled in the corner of the bar, nursing a whiskey and contemplating your next move when you heard the door creak open. The air grew heavy with anticipation, and you felt a pair of eyes on you, unseen but palpable.

Jinx's footsteps were tentative as she approached, her boots clicking against the wet cobblestone floor. She looked like a lost kitten, drenched and shivering, her eyes wide and searching. She stopped a few feet away, her rain-soaked hair plastered to her face, her clothes clinging to her slender frame. The bar patrons had fallen quiet, sensing the tension that crackled between you like an unseen electric current.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, when she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said, the words thick with unshed tears. "I didn't mean it. I know you're not my mom, but... I don't know. I just wanted to go out there and prove myself." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to learn more before I can handle the big missions."

The room held its breath as you looked up at her, the whiskey in your hand frozen mid-sip. Her eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you would forgive her, that you would stay. And for a moment, you felt the anger melt away, replaced by the warmth of the love you had for her, the love that had led you to this point.

"I don't want you to leave," she said, her voice trembling. "I need you, I need you as... as someone who cares...please." The raw vulnerability in her words was like a punch to the gut, reminding you of all the times she had looked to you for guidance, for love, for acceptance. You set the glass down, the sound of it hitting the table like a gavel, final and irrevocable.

For a moment, the bar was still, the only sound the steady drip of water from Jinx's sodden clothes. You studied her, the young woman who had once been a scared, angry girl, and now stood before you with the beginnings of wisdom etched into her features. The realization that you had been her anchor, her beacon in the storm, filled you with a strange mix of pride and sorrow.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said, your voice softening. "But you need to understand, I'm not here to hold your hand through every mission. I'm here to teach you, to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did." You reached out, taking her cold hand in yours, feeling the tremor of her fear. "And if that means you go out there and kick some serious ass, then I'll be proud of you."

A tentative smile ghosted across her lips, the first sign of the Jinx you knew and loved. "But," you added, "you need to learn when to pick your battles." You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the tension in her fingers. "I'll always be here for you, but I can't be everywhere at once. And if you go off half-cocked, you're going to get yourself killed."

The room exhaled collectively as the tension eased, the patrons returning to their conversations and drinks. But the moment between you and Jinx was still palpable, a silent understanding that had been forged in the fires of anger and regret. "I know," she said, her eyes meeting yours, "I just... I don't want to let you down."

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, the weight of her fear and hope resting in your palms. You pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, the steady beat of her heart beneath your own. "You could never let me down," you whispered into her ear. "You're already more than I could have ever asked for."

For a brief moment, the chaos of the bar faded away, and it was just the two of you, the rain outside a distant memory. You could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, the burden of expectations and the fear of failure that had driven her to push so hard.

And in that instant, you realized that she wasn't just your student or even a daughter-figure; she was a piece of your soul, a living, breathing part of you that had grown from the ashes of your own past.

Her apology hung in the air like a shimmering thread of hope, the first step toward mending the fracture that had formed between you. She knew she had gone too far, that her words had cut deeper than she had intended. And as she stood there, shivering from the cold and the weight of her own realization, you saw the truth of what Silco had said: she was growing up, finding her own path.

You held her tighter, the warmth of her body seeping into your cold, hardened heart. "You never will," you murmured, your voice a gentle promise. "You're more than just a weapon, Jinx. You're... everything." The words slipped out, a declaration of the love you had never truly allowed yourself to acknowledge.

You felt her relax into your embrace, her shoulders dropping as the tension drained from her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I just wanted to be like you, to be strong." Her admission was a knife that twisted in your heart, a reminder of the fine line you had been walking as her mentor.

You pulled back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with your thumb. "You are strong, Jinx," you said, your voice firm. "But strength isn't about rushing into every fight. It's about knowing when to stand your ground, and when to wait." You searched her eyes, looking for the spark of understanding, the light that would tell you she heard you.

Her eyes searched yours, the neon glow of the bar light playing across the wet planes of her face. "I'll try," she said, her voice small and hopeful. "I promise." And in that moment, you knew that you couldn't leave her, not now, not ever. You had made a promise to yourself, to Silco, and to the city, but most importantly, to her.

Three days of silence had felt like an eternity.

You had avoided the fortress, not ready to face the man who had questioned your place in his world. But the call had come, a summons that couldn't be ignored.

Twice you had been sent for, and twice you had ignored it. It was only when the third message arrived, the tone more insistent, that you knew you had to face him.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You had spent the last seventy-two hours thinking of every sharp word, every accusation you wanted to hurl at him.

But as you approached the doors to his office, you realized that anger was a blunt instrument. What you needed now was precision, the scalpel of wit and truth.

You were dragged before him, not literally but by the weight of the words you had left unsaid. His eyes searched yours, a mix of anger and something else, something you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down. You had been waiting for this moment, had been waiting to make him understand.

"You owe me an apology," you said, the words cutting through the silence like a knife. Silco's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he took a puff of his cigar, the smoke curling around him like a serpent.

"For what?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.

"For questioning me," you said, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. "For making me feel like I'm nothing to you or Jinx." The room was a battleground, and you had drawn your line in the sand. You had come to his fortress not as a supplicant, but as a warrior demanding respect.

Silco's gaze never left yours, the unspoken challenge in his eyes making your blood boil. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said finally, the words a concession but not the apology you sought. "But you need to understand, she's not a child anymore." The anger in your heart was a living, breathing creature now, a beast that demanded to be heard.

"And what about me?" you shot back, the fire in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar between his fingers. "What am I to you?" The question hung in the air, a silent challenge that demanded an answer. Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers burning bright.

"You're... important," he said, the word a grudging admission. "But I can't have you putting her in harm's way because you're afraid to let go." His voice was firm, the finality of it a slap in the face. But you weren't about to let him off the hook.

"And what if I'm not afraid of her growing up?" you retorted, your voice rising. "What if I'm afraid of losing her, of losing what we've built together?" The words echoed off the walls, a declaration of the fear that had been festering in your heart for so long.

Silco leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning beneath his weight. "Is that what you think?" he said, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "That I don't care about what happens to her?"

You stepped closer, the heat of your fury warming the cold, sterile room. "It's what you make me feel," you said, your voice trembling. "Every time you push her into danger, every time you treat me like I'm disposable." The words were a knife to the heart, the pain of his indifference a fresh wound that had yet to scab over.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the embers of his cigar casting a warm, orange glow across his face. "You're not disposable," he said, the words a whisper. "But you have to understand, this is bigger than us." His hand reached out, the gesture almost tender, but you stepped back, the space between you a yawning chasm.

"Bigger than us?" you spat. "Is that all I am to you? Just a pawn to be moved around on your board?" The rage was a living, breathing thing now, a storm that threatened to consume you both. His silence was a knife twisting in your gut, a silent confirmation of your fears.

"I've given you everything," you said, the words ripped from your chest. "Every part of me, and for what? To be nothing more than a tool to you?"

The accusation hung in the air, a toxic cloud that choked the very essence of your relationship. Silco's eyes remained on you, unwavering, as if he could bore through your skull with his gaze alone.

"I've bled for you," you continued, the anger a living flame in your voice. "I've killed for you, loved for you, and what do I get in return? To be treated like I'm disposable?" The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's silence was a wall, impenetrable and cold.

"Do you even know what love is?" you demanded, your voice cracking with the weight of your pain. "Or is it all just power and control to you?" Each word was a dagger thrown at his heart, a challenge to the man who had once been your everything. But now, you weren't so sure.

Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers glowing in the dark. "Love is a luxury we can't afford," he said finally, his voice a harsh whisper. "This city, this war, it doesn't care about love." The room felt colder, the air thick with the bitterness of his words.

The silence between you was a scream, a howl of anger and hurt that echoed through the empty halls of the fortress. You felt the weight of his dismissal, the coldness of his gaze, and for a moment, you weren't sure if you could stand it. But you had come this far, and you weren't going to back down now.

"You don't give a fuck about me," you said, the words a declaration of your pain. "You use me for what I can do, for the power I give you."

The accusation hung in the air, a grenade waiting to explode. Silco's expression didn't change, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

"I've given you everything," you continued, your voice shaking. "My heart, my soul, my body." You paused, the words like a punch to his gut. "And what do I get in return?" You waited for an answer, but he remained silent, the smoke from his cigar the only indication of his breathing.

"I've built a life for you," you said, the anger now a cold, hard knot in your stomach. "I've raised your daughter, for fuck's sake, and this is how you treat me?" You stepped closer to him, the gap between you closing like a vice. "Like I'm nothing more than a whore you can use and discard?"

The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's eyes searched yours, looking for a way out, but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "You don't get to do that," you whispered, your voice a dangerous promise. "You don't get to use me like that."

He took a deep breath, the cigar still clenched between his teeth. "I know you're more than that," he said, the words a begrudging admission. "But this city, this war..." He trailed off, the excuses on his tongue tasting bitter.

"This city, this war," you spat, mimicking his words. "It's always about that, isn't it? It's never about us, about what I've given to you, what I've sacrificed for you!" Your voice echoed through the stark emptiness of the room, each word a hammer blow to the foundation of your relationship.

Silco's expression was a mask, unreadable and unyielding. "You know why I do what I do," he said, his voice low and measured. "You know the stakes." The implication was clear: you were being selfish, thinking only of your own feelings when the fate of the city hung in the balance.

"The stakes?" you scoffed. "What about my stake in this, Silco? What about the love and loyalty I've given you?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for some sign of emotion, some spark of the man you had once loved. But his gaze remained flat, his heart a fortress you hadn't the key to breach.

"You're right," he said finally, the words a cold slap to the face. "You're not just a pawn, you're a queen. A queen who's been playing by the wrong set of rules." His words hung in the air like a noose, the gravity of his admission heavy and suffocating.

You took a step back, the weight of his words pushing you away from him. "So, what now?" you asked, the anger in your voice a whisper of what it had been. "Do we just pretend like nothing's changed?"

Silco's hand reached out to you, the cigar forgotten, his eyes searching yours. "We find a way to move forward," he said, the words a plea and a command. "For Jinx, for the city, for us." But you could see the doubt in his gaze, the fear that maybe the damage was irreparable.

You looked at his outstretched hand, the veins standing out against his pale skin, the dirt beneath his fingernails a testament to the battles he had fought. And for a moment, you wanted to take it, to believe that things could go back to the way they were. But the words stuck in your throat, the anger a living flame that refused to be extinguished.

"How can I trust you?" you whispered, the pain in your voice a living, breathing entity. "How can I believe that you won't just toss me aside again?" The room was a cage, the walls closing in around you, the air thick with the scent of his cigar and the weight

of his silence.

"You have to," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "You're the only one who can reach her, who can teach her the way of the world without breaking her." His hand hovered between you, a bridge over the chasm of your emotions. "I need you." The admission was raw, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to the steel you were used to.

You felt the anger drain from you, replaced by a tired resignation. "Fine," you said, your voice a whisper. "But you need to understand, I won't be a pawn in your games anymore." You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs with the toxic fumes of your anger. "I'm more than just a weapon for you to wield."

Part 2: bc it's long...

Silco nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "You've been more than I could ever ask for." His voice was gruff, the words clearly difficult for him to say. But there was sincerity in his tone, a warmth that you hadn't heard in weeks.

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, the calloused thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You're not just a weapon to me," he said, his gaze searching yours. "You're the heart of this city, the fire that keeps us all fighting." His words were a balm to the wound he had inflicted, a gentle reminder of the respect and admiration he had for you.

"You've given me a reason to believe in something more than just power," he continued, his voice a low rumble. "You've given me hope."

The warmth of his hand was a stark contrast to the coldness of his usual demeanor, the tenderness of his touch a promise that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cold, calculating leader he presented to the world.

You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words. "But I need to hear it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need to hear you say it." The words hung in the air, a silent plea for validation, for the reassurance that you hadn't been a fool for giving him your heart.

Silco took a deep breath, the cigar smoke swirling around him like a mist. "I trust you," he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "With everything I have, with everything I am." His eyes searched yours, the depth of his feelings laid bare. "You're more than just a lover, more than just a mother figure to Jinx."

He paused, the silence stretching between you like a tightrope. "You're my partner," he said finally, the words a declaration that resonated through the room. "My equal in every way that counts." The warmth in his voice was a promise that he saw you as more than just a means to an end, more than just someone to share his bed and his battles.

"You're the one who understands me," he went on, his thumb still tracing the line of your jaw. "You see the man beneath the monster, and you still choose to stand by my side." His eyes searched yours, looking for the flicker of doubt that had been festering in your heart. "I need you," he said again, the words a lifeline thrown into the stormy sea of your emotions.

"You're the smartest, most capable person I know," he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your shoulder. "You've kept me sane in this insane world we live in." The praise was like a balm to your bruised ego, the recognition of your worth a salve to the wounds he had unknowingly inflicted.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words heavy with regret. "I should have realized sooner what you needed, what we both needed." His eyes searched yours, looking for a spark of forgiveness. "But I'm here now," he added, his voice a gentle promise. "And I'll do everything in my power to make it right."

The silence was a living, breathing thing in the room, a creature that fed on your doubt and anger. But as you looked into Silco's eyes, you could see the truth there, the raw regret that he had kept hidden behind his armor of power and control.

"I'm sorry," he said again, the words a whisper that seemed to echo off the cold, stone walls. "I didn't realize what you needed from me."

His hand slid down to yours, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your bones. "I've been so focused on the war, on keeping this city alive, that I forgot what it was I was fighting for." His grip tightened, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive. "You've been here, by my side, and I've taken you for granted."

You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of anger and pain that had been building for weeks. "You didn't just not realize," you said, your voice shaking. "You didn't even care." The accusation was a dagger thrown, aimed straight at his heart.

Silco flinched, the pain in your voice a blow he hadn't been prepared for. "That's not true," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I've always cared, more than you know." He stepped closer, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "I just didn't know how to show it."

His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign that he had reached you, that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. "But I see it now," he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "I see what you've been trying to tell me, and I'm sorry for being so blind." The room was a cocoon of regret, the air thick with the weight of his words.

"I'm sorry for treating you like you're disposable," he continued, his voice a rough whisper. "For not seeing what was right in front of me." His hand slid to the back of your neck, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. "You're not just a weapon, you're the soul of this city."

You felt the weight of his apology, the gravity of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness.

"But I've been so focused on winning, on keeping this city from falling apart, that I lost sight of what's truly important." His grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. "You're what's important."

The room was a prison, the silence a living creature that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. The rain outside had stopped, the only sound the distant echo of the city's heartbeat. You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his apology. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the man you had fallen in love with, not the monster he had become.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, the words a prayer. "I should have been there for you, should have noticed what you needed." His eyes searched yours, a silent plea for understanding. "I got lost in the chaos, in the need to survive." His thumb stroked your cheek, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine. "I've been so focused on keeping the city standing that I forgot to look at the woman holding it up."

You nodded, the gesture almost imperceptible. It was a start, a crack in the wall of anger you had built around your heart. "I know," you said, your voice a whisper. "But I need you to understand, Sil." Your eyes met his, the depth of your emotions a raging river. "I'm not just a weapon to be used, not just a body to be shared." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the lines that had been crossed.

"I've missed you," he murmured, his hand moving to cradle your face. "More than I can say." The raw honesty in his voice was like a warm embrace, a promise that he would try to be better. You felt a softening in your chest, the ice around your heart beginning to melt. "Can I make it up to you?" he asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, the first glimmer of hope breaking through the storm. "We'll start with talking," you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of emotion. "Really talking, not just about missions and strategy." You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his skin a comfort. "I need you to see me, all of me." The vulnerability in your eyes was a silent demand for the connection that had been lost.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the question clear. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You took a deep breath, the words a declaration of what you needed. "I want you to be present," you said, the words a whisper. "To listen, to care, to be the man I know you can be." The room was a bubble, the outside world forgotten as you waited for his response.

"I'll do better," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with conviction. "For you, for Jinx, for us." His hand slid down from your face to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer until your chests met. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you like a river retreating from the shore. His grip tightened, his other hand sliding around to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was at once gentle and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips in a silent question.

You opened for him, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed your body, a silent apology for the weeks of neglect. His thumb brushed the pulse point at the base of your neck, the pressure of his touch a reminder of the power he held. But in this moment, you were the one in control, the one dictating the terms of their reconciliation.

Silco's kiss grew more insistent, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you, a testament to his desire. But you didn't yield immediately, instead pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You have to mean it," you murmured, the words a warning and a promise.

He nodded, the seriousness in his gaze unmistakable. "I do," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you." His hands slid down to grip your waist, his touch a silent promise. You felt your resolve waver, the anger giving way to something softer, something more vulnerable.

You leaned into him, the kiss deepening as his hands moved to your back, pressing you closer. His touch was a brand, a claim that you hadn't felt in so long, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the tension in his body, the need to prove himself to you, to show you that he was more than just a monster.

Silco's hands roamed lower, cupping your ass, and you gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his desk, the wood cool against your skin. His kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, a silent vow to never let you go again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the heat of his body searing through your clothes.

You felt his hands slip under your shirt, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of your lower back. A shiver of pleasure rippled through you as his touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before unhooking it with a practiced ease. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside to reveal your naked breasts to the warm air.

His eyes devoured you, the hunger in his gaze sending a bolt of desire straight to your core. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, and you moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. His mouth moved lower, kissing and biting along your collarbone, his hands now working on the buttons of your pants.

As he pushed them down, you could feel the wetness between your legs, the ache of need that had been building since you saw him standing there, so strong and sure of himself. But now, in this moment, you knew he was yours, that he needed you just as much as you needed him.

The sound of your pants hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room, the only other noise the heavy thud of your hearts beating in sync. Silco stepped back for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, exposed and willing. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with a mix of desire and determination, before his hands returned to your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. His thumbs traced the insides of your thighs, the gentle pressure guiding you wider. "Every inch of you, so perfect." His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his mouth capturing your earlobe in a gentle nip that had you gasping. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, the words lost in the wave of sensation that flooded you as he began to kiss his way down your body. His mouth was a brand, leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. Each touch was deliberate, each caress a silent promise to never take you for granted again. His hands were firm, his touch sure as he explored you, his thumbs teasing your inner thighs.

"I'm going to make this good for you," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent your pulse racing. "I'm going to show you how much you mean to me." His mouth found your center, his tongue delving into your folds with a gentle insistence that had you arching your back. His eyes remained on yours, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every gasp that tore from your lips.

As he tasted you, Silco's hands moved to your hips, his grip firm as he guided your movements, setting the rhythm of your hips against his face. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "So perfect." His tongue circled your clit, the touch light and teasing, building the tension within you until you were trembling.

You felt your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palm, the pain a welcome distraction from the pleasure that was threatening to consume you. "Sil," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive as his tongue swiped from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Let me taste you, let me make you feel good." His tongue delved deeper, the wet heat of his mouth surrounding you, the pressure building until you were sure you would shatter. He knew just how to touch you, how to make you come apart in his arms.

His thumbs stroked the insides of your thighs, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the fervent kisses he was placing along your slit. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, the words a warm breath against your sensitive flesh. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, but also with a gentle concern that made your heart ache. "I'm going to make you come so hard, sweets.”

With a flick of his tongue, he swiped from your entrance to your clit, the suddenness making you gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a spark that ignited the fire that had been smoldering within you for weeks.

His eyes never left yours, watching for every twitch of your body, every gasp that slipped past your lips. His touch was both dominant and tender, his mouth moving with a confidence that left no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what he was doing.

He dipped his tongue in again, this time lingering just a second longer before pulling away, drawing a long, low moan from you that you quickly muffled with your hand. The sound of your pleasure seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding.

His thumbs slid up to press against your clit, his tongue delving deep into your wetness, filling you up before retreating again. The rhythm was a symphony of sensation, a dance that you had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.

Silco's eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire reflecting the flickering candlelight. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "So perfect, gods I’ve fucking missed you." His thumbs began to rub circles around your clit, the gentle pressure building the tension that had you teetering on the edge of release. His tongue swiped through your folds, tasting you, savoring you as if you were the sweetest delicacy.

"Silco," you whispered, your voice trembling with need as he focused his attention on your clit, swirling and flicking his tongue with a finesse that had your eyes rolling back in your head. Each stroke was a declaration of his intent, a promise to never let you feel unwanted again. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you in place, urging you closer to the brink.

He slipped two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. His eyes remained locked on yours, watching as your pupils dilated with pleasure. "So tight," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "So fucking perfect."

He curled his fingers, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His thumb circled your clit before using his mouth again, the pressure building until you thought you might scream.

Silco's tongue was a masterful tool, flicking and swirling around your clit, driving you wild. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built. His movements deliberate and focused, as if he was memorizing every twitch of your body, every gasp that escaped your lips.

He added a third finger, the stretch making you squirm on the desk. "You're so wet for me," he said, his voice a low purr that made your toes curl. "So fucking wet." His eyes searched yours, watching as the pleasure built, the tension in your body tightening like a coil ready to snap. His mouth moved to your clit again, the gentle sucking sending shockwaves through your body.

You felt your orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly. "please," you moaned, your hand moving to his hair to tug him closer.

He took the hint, his mouth closing around your clit, the suction a delicious pressure that had you biting down on your hand to keep from screaming. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, the sensation making your legs shake.

He was relentless, his tongue swiping and teasing, his fingers curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you on the edge. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire and love a lifeline in the storm of sensation. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a demand that you couldn't refuse. "Let go."

And so you did, your body arching off the desk as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. The sound of your muffled cries filled the room, your nails digging into the desk as you held on for dear life.

Silco's eyes remained on yours, the intensity in his gaze never wavering as he watched you come apart in his arms. He didn't stop, his mouth and fingers working in harmony to draw out every last ounce of pleasure, his praise a gentle breeze that soothed your ragged soul.

"So beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his tongue lapping up the last of your release. He kissed a path back up to your mouth, his kisses gentle and reverent, a silent apology for the weeks of pain he had caused. His hands slid up to cradle your face, the warmth of his palms a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. "You're mine," he whispered, the words a vow that seemed to echo in the air.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you as his lips moved to kiss away the tears that had begun to fall. "I know," you murmured, your voice still shaky with aftershocks of pleasure. "But you have to be mine too." The words were a soft demand, a reminder that this was a two-way street.

Silco nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I am," he said, his voice a low rumble. "And I will be." His hands moved to unbuckle his pants, his cock springing free, hard and demanding. "I need you," he said, the words a desperate plea. "All of you."

He stepped closer, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice a velvet whip that had you meeting his gaze. "I want to see you when I fuck you." His eyes searched yours, looking for the consent that you willingly gave.

With a slow, deliberate move, he pushed into you, the feel of him stretching you deliciously. "

You felt your eyes widen, the pleasure a stark contrast to the ache of his earlier touch. "Look at me," he murmured again, his voice a gentle command. "Let me see you." He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep, his eyes never leaving yours.

Silco's hips rolled into yours, each stroke a declaration of his dominance, his need for you. His eyes searched yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel seen in a way you hadn't in weeks. His hands moved to grip your shoulders, the pressure grounding you as the world swirled around you.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck, the gentle bite a promise of more to come. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a soft purr. You nodded, the words lost in a moan that you couldn't hold back. His hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing in gentle circles that had your hips rising to meet his. "Good," he murmured, his voice a warm breath against your skin. "So good for me, love." His praises were a balm to your soul, the words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Silco's hips rolled in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock stretching you open, filling you completely. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire a stark contrast to the tender way he touched you.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a thrill of pleasure through you. His thumb circled your clit, his movements deliberate and precise, each touch a silent declaration of his dominance. "And I'm going to show you just how much."

You felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure too intense to bear. "No. Look at me," he said, his voice a gentle command that had your eyes snapping open. His gaze was a brand, a promise that he would never let you go again. "I want to see you come for me," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "Let go, baby."

The praises fell from his lips like sweet nothings, each word a caress that had you writhing beneath him. "You're so tight," he said, his voice thick with need. "So wet." His hips picked up the pace, the slap of skin against skin the only sound in the quiet room. "You're perfect."

He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue claiming your mouth as his cock claimed your body. His hands roamed your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. "So beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking beautiful."

You felt yourself rising to meet him, your body responding to his every command. Your hips moved in a silent dance, the slickness of your arousal a testament to his skill. "Yes," he growled, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it."

Your moans grew louder, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of need. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "You like when I fill you up?"

You nodded, unable to form words as the pleasure built within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might shatter. "Tell me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Tell me how good it feels."

"So good," you gasped, your voice a desperate whisper. "So... fucking... good." The words were a chant, a mantra that matched the beat of his hips. His grip on your shoulders tightened, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark seduction that had you spiraling out of control.

And then you were there, the orgasm ripping through you like a storm. Your nails dug into his back as you screamed his name, your body arching off the desk as the waves of pleasure consumed you. Silco's eyes never left yours, his gaze a lifeline as you fell apart in his arms.

He watched you come down, his hips still moving, the rhythm never faltering. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a soft growl. "Mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to cherish." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that was burning in his chest.

Silco's grip tightened, his thrusts growing more demanding, his need for release an unspoken command. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. "Look at me while I come. Look at me sweetness." Your eyes snapped open, the intensity in his gaze like a brand on your soul. His movements grew wilder, his cock slamming into you with an urgency that had you gripping the desk for purchase.

His hips snapped against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh a symphony of desire. "You feel so good," he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice was a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the power he held over your body. You felt the tension in his muscles, the way his jaw clenched as he held back, trying to make it last.

But the need was too strong, the hunger too great. Silco lost control, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Fuck," he growled, his eyes going dark. "You're going to make me come." And with that, he let go, his cock pumping into you with a ferocity that had you gasping for breath.

You felt his climax, the hot spurts of his release filling you up. His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent roar as he came, his body shuddering with the force of it. For a moment, he remained still, his cock buried deep within you, his breathing heavy and erratic.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the storm passed, leaving you both panting and trembling in the aftermath. Silco's eyes snapped open, the pupils dilated and wild. His grip on your hips was bruising, his breaths hot and ragged against your neck. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own need.

He pulled out of you, the sensation of emptiness making you whine in protest. But he wasn't done yet. With a growl that was more animal than man, he flipped you over, your palms flat on the desk. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you to meet his renewed erection. "Again," he demanded, his voice a desperate plea. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please."

Without a word, you pushed back, feeling him slide into you with a slick ease that had you gasping. His hips slammed into you, each thrust a punctuation to the silent conversation of your bodies. The desk creaked beneath your combined weight, the wood groaning in protest as you moved together in a dance as old as time.

Silco's hands were everywhere, gripping and caressing, his fingers digging into your flesh as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his arms and back rippling with every thrust. His breath was hot and ragged in your ear, his hips slamming into you with a ferocity that sent shockwaves through your core. The desk beneath you trembled with the force of his passion, the wood protesting with each punishing movement.

You moaned, your body moving in time with his, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. The sound was primal, a declaration of his dominance that had your inner walls clenching around him. "Sil," you whispered, your voice a plea for more. He responded with a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you deeper.

You felt his cock swell within you, the pressure building until it was almost too much to bear. His movements grew erratic, his need for release palpable. His eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he fought for control. But the dam was breaking, the intensity of your combined passion too great to hold back.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Silco lost control. His hips slammed into you, his cock plunging into your depths with a force that had you screaming. Each thrust was a declaration of his need, his desperation to claim you, to mark you as his. His eyes were wild, the pupils blown with lust as he watched your body take him in, your walls clenching around his length in a vice-like grip that had him groaning with pleasure.

The desk beneath you creaked and groaned with each powerful thrust, the wood bending and flexing beneath the onslaught of your passion. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving bruises that would serve as a reminder of this moment for days to come. His breath was ragged, his teeth gritted as he fought against the tide of his own desire. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, needy sounds of your union echoing off the walls.

"You're mine," Silco grunted, his voice a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine. "All fucking mine." His eyes never left you, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every twitch of your body as he drove into you. "You're going to come for me," he growled, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that had you panting for more. "You're going to scream for when you come."

He reached around, his hand finding your clit, his thumb rubbing in tight, fast circles that had you gasping for air. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a dark command that resonated through your entire being. "Now." Your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning, making your vision white out as you felt yourself squirt slightly, soaking the desk beneath you.

Silco's eyes were glued to the sight, the hunger in them unmistakable. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and possessiveness. "You're so beautiful when you come." His praise was intoxicating, the words wrapping around your thoughts and clouding your mind.

With each stroke of his thumb, your body trembled, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. "Sil," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sil, I can't." But you could, and you did, your body betraying you as it responded to his touch, his voice. His grip on your hips tightened, his cock slamming into you without mercy as he chased his own release.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice a gentle reminder of your place in his world. "Mine to fuck, mine to cherish." The words were like a drug, seeping into your veins and filling you with warmth. You felt yourself tighten around him, your muscles spasming as another orgasm began to build. "Yes," he hissed, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it. Take it all."

The room was a blur, the only thing in focus the feel of Silco's cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his tone a promise. "I'm going to make you come so hard you won't be able to walk." His thumb pressed harder, his movements faster, the pressure building until you thought you might burst.

With a final, desperate moan, you did, your body spasming around him as you squirted once more. The feeling was indescribable, the sensation of your release coating the desk beneath you, a testament to his power over your body. His grip tightened, his hips moving faster as he claimed your body, his own orgasm close at hand.

You felt him swell, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, his seed filling you to the brim. His roar of pleasure was a sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, a declaration of his triumph. You collapsed against the desk, your body trembling, your heart racing as the aftershocks of your climax washed over you.

He didn't pull out immediately, instead staying inside you, his cock still twitching as he caught his breath. His hand moved from your clit to your waist, holding you in place as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a gentle caress that had you trembling. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Soaking wet for me, your cunt clenching around me."

Slowly, oh so slowly, Silco withdrew, the emptiness making you whimper. You felt the warmth of his release spill out of you, painting the desk with your combined pleasure.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but still holding a hint of the dominant beast that had just claimed you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of distress, the softness of his gaze a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

Your legs wobbled as he helped you to the couch, his strong arms supporting your weight as you sank into the leather. You nodded, unable to form words as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to pulse through your body. He sat beside you, his hand caressing your cheek as he studied you with an intensity that made your heart race.

Leaning in, Silco captured your mouth in a kiss that was as soft as it was demanding, a declaration of his ownership that had you melting into him. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a gentle dominance that had you craving more. His other hand slid down your body, tracing the path of your curves with a possessive fondness that had you shivering.

He pulled back, a smug smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were a mess, your clothes in disarray, your makeup smeared, and your hair a wild mess around your flushed face. But to Silco, you were the most beautiful creature in the world.

He leaned back, his eyes traveling down to the mess between your legs. The evidence of his dominance was clear, a slick mess that had your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and pride.

With a gentle touch, he wiped a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb lingering on your skin. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the beast he had been moments ago. "For everything." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that he knew was reflected in his own gaze.

You nodded, the fight from earlier forgotten in the wake of the passion that had just swept through you. "I know," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. "And I'm sorry too." The words were a balm to the wounds that had been festering between you. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you were on the same page, like you were a team.

Silco leaned in, his kiss gentle, almost chaste, but no less powerful for it. "Let's go home," he whispered, his voice a promise of warmth and comfort. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. Together, you gathered your clothes, the silence in the room thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

But as you stepped into the rain-soaked streets, you felt something shift. The storm outside matched the one that had just passed between you, but now there was a sense of calm in the aftermath.

Hand in hand, you walked through the city, the neon lights reflecting off the slick pavement. The rain had let up, leaving only a gentle drizzle that seemed to cleanse the air around you. Silco's grip was firm, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, the storm of emotions from earlier dissipating like the rain.

You stepped into the penthouse, the warmth of the building a stark contrast to the cold outside. The silence was a balm to your ears, the only sound the steady beat of your hearts. Silco led you to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours. As he helped you into bed, the softness of the sheets was a comfort that seemed to melt the tension from your muscles.

He slid in beside you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. His chest was a wall of warmth, his heart a steady rhythm beneath your ear. "We'll figure this out," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble. "Together."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words in your bones. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were united, a force to be reckoned with. The city outside was a canvas waiting for you to paint your love and anger upon it.

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sayusims · 2 days ago

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Jinshi and Maomao relationship detail

At first, when watching The Apothecary Diaries, I didn't really want Jinshi and Maomao to be together. I mean, I wanted them to be, but since Jinshi was obviously so much more in love than Maomao, I did not think that it would seriously work out. However, I’ve changed my mind. As I haven’t actually read the light novels yet, some of the information I’m going to use is based on what others have said, and I can’t really confirm 100% if it is true, but since these are discussed somewhat in the community, I feel like they are.

My top reason for thinking they are good together is the fact that they pay extra attention to and look at each other more than others. In Jinshi’s case, he is known for being immensely pretty, but because this is the only thing people look at when it comes to him, it causes him to have an inferiority complex about all of the other skills that he does possess. It also does not help that he is surrounded by anomalies of people who have super strength or are insanely smart, so he feels hopelessly average in comparison. Because of this, when he met Maomao, he thought that she would be the same—someone captivated by his beauty who does not see the real him—but it was the complete opposite. His beauty does not hold worth to her. While she obviously finds him attractive and is probably still attracted to his physical body, his worth to her comes almost solely from his personality. The times in the anime that we see best that she is VERY slowly falling in love are times when she mentions him behaving differently or behaving more like himself instead of the persona he puts on daily. She does find Jinshi annoying a lot, but she likes it when he is more youthful and less eunuch-like.

When it comes to Maomao, I remember that in an episode of the anime, Maomao mentioned how she knows she is hard to read. While Jinshi cannot read her, he still tries. Jinshi never backs down or gets put off when he doesn’t understand her apparent logic; he mostly just trusts her and her judgment. He is incredibly patient with her and honestly does not try to rush things (it is KILLING ME). He is extremely worried about her well-being and making the choice that she wants, not what he wants. It is like when he dismissed her from her job in the first part of season 1. He dismissed her even though he had the power to obviously just not do it but also to just kind of make her work even if she thought it was miserable in the rear palace, because I fear that’s what at least half of the men back then would have done. But even though at this time he had a rabid crush on her and knew he was going to be miserable like he was with his toys when he was younger, he did it since he thought that was what she wanted. Another thing Jinshi notices a lot is her injuries. After, I assume, the third time of someone noticing someone else constantly getting hurt but still either waiting to get help or just not getting it at all, most people would give up. Most people would not jump off a wall and carry them bridal style to the infirmary the sixth time, but Jinshi still did, and he did it with urgency. Every time she gets hurt now, he is always panicking and doing the most he can to help, even if it's most times him just screaming. He never gets tired of her and always wants to be around her at almost every moment.

I want to get the manga volumes and the light novel so badly, but I literally have a 50-bullet-point to-read list that just keeps growing because I’ve been stuck on Crime and Punishment for the last two months. But if anyone has some show ideas (they don't have to be anime) that I can yap about and make my brain work overtime, that would be very helpful.

#apothecary diaries #jinshi #anime #maomao #jinmao #kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #analysis

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dreamy-guardian-angel · 2 days ago

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:) oh buddy I'm about to be your new best friend. I am the Delta anon. I come from mainly @/howlsofbloodhounds inbox (also Howls if you're somehow seeing this. I'LL COME BACK SOON I PROMISE).

RANT IT IS!

I find that Delta usually has very complex relationships with a lot of people, especially based on his reputation around the Multiverse and Omega Timeline. Bad guys know him as a threat who will stop at nothing to kill, good guys know him as a bit unhinged but their heart is in the (mostly) right place (aside from the murder). Anyone who poses a threat will be treated as such by them with no hesitation.

However, that being said, if a stranger approaches with caution and strikes up a conversation (asks for directions, for him to translate something, etc.), they will actually he extremely polite and patient with them. He won't be aggressive if they approach nicely, which can often confuse the ones who view him as a threat waiting to be unleashed. They know if he's around, a fight will most likely soon follow.

Does Delta know this? Absolutely. I'd imagine that they actually kind of enjoy the fear that comes from others - if they're bad, then they have everything to lose. If they're good, they're safe. He will only attack bad people and it is very well known.

And like most of the talk about Delta and Color's relationship, the headcanon of Delta being Color's roommate and protector (and semi-caretaker while he's in recovery) is usually adopted.

For me personally, I like to imagine that Delta had to reteach Color everything from day one - not to say Color was helpless whatsoever during recovery, just needed a bit of help, love, and routine to get their life back in order. They are very close friends, even though they argue on occasion and blow up at each other due to their explosive natures.

With that being said, I also like to think that Color taught Delta a LOT about so many things, opened their eyes to a lot more possibilities than they realized before. Because before Color really came around, Delta kinda only had himself, Beta (the collective nickname that was chosen for the Bravery Soul), and whoever they encountered.

Some of these things could be about the patience and time recovery takes. Delta is usually a get-in-get-out sorta guy I think, so if he gets injured, he heals himself quickly and rushes to the next AU or fight. But Color practically forced him to realize that what he can survive with ease is not the case for everyone else - he may be able to heal himself without thinking about it, but others sometimes don't have that luxury.

Another thing I'd like to imagine Color taught them more about is patience (ironic, i know). Healing takes quite a bit of time, even if it's done instantly with magic. Color had to be rehabilitated, taught the things people would just know, and Delta was a big part of his learning process. But when things got hard, he practically forced Delta to learn that instead of fighting it (usually physically or verbally), they needed to be patient, take a breath to calm down, and keep trying while keeping their cool.

I also think that Color would help them to actually accept the things they need to do in regards to their neurodivergency (I hc that Delta/Beta have ADHD and probably a few other things, but right now ADHD is the main thing I'm talking about here). Color was taught by pretty much everyone around him that he was allowed to express themselves however they wanted, as long as it wasn't hurting anyone or themselves.

I feel like Delta would be the type of guy to refuse himself stims or breaks, not wanting to be seen as 'weak' or 'vulnerable' by their enemies. I'd imagine that they mask often, causing them only more frustration the longer they do it - hence why they get so excited when they can fight. They get to release all that pent-up stress and energy, and use it to protect people that they care about, including themselves. What better coping method could a neurodivergent with anger issues ask for?

But Color taught him that they don't have to resort to fighting to get out energy, and don't have to mask in order to feel safe - don't have to view themselves as weak for allowing themselves the comfort of stims and all that comes with it.

And that's not to say Delta didn't know about these things before - just that he didn't think of it. Color obviously taught him much more than just these things, but these are the first ones that come to mind. They undoubtedly have the closest bond that could be, no matter what happens.

And moving onto Epic now, I actually don't know how I imagine these two meeting. So I'm open to ideas on this one lmao.

But no matter how they met, they are also very very close - they enjoy spending time together, mostly because it's so different than what Delta's used to. He can feel a bit more relaxed around Epic. And, like Color, Epic encourages stimming to the highest extent (I imagine he has AuDHD). With the memes and overall chaos, though, Delta would probably need breaks of silence in their hangouts lmao.

I'm gonna be real with you, I don't have much of an opinion on him. But that isn't to say that he's not a massive part of Delta's life.

I'd imagine that he'd be the first person aside from Delta that Color was introduced to. Naturally Color wouldn't be as friendly, maybe even viewing him as a threat until he eventually came around. (You gotta introduce early post-VOID Color to people like a cat, from what I understand. It'll work, trust.)

Now, with Cross, it could be a bit more complicated. Even though it was claimed as non-canon by Jakei I believe(?), in Delta's story, he canonically fought Cross. Which obviously leaves a bad first impression for both of them.

Needless to say, when Delta finds out that Epic is friends with Cross, he is NOT happy. Things would probably be tense between the two for a very, very long time, probably involving multiple altercations and fights between the two. But I think they would eventually get on better, more neutral terms - maybe even respect each other eventually.

I do think that the longer Cross is around and the more he integrates into their group, Delta will accept him soon enough and not put up as much as a fight about it. They might even grow protective of Cross, instinctively wanting to protect him from danger, just how he does with everyone else.

And honestly, Cross would probably teach him to be more accepting of people who are trying to turn their lives around. Delta has most definetly fought this dude multiple times in the past, and will proudly admit to that. But he learned that even people who did a lot of bad shit can change, and should be allowed the time, resources, and space to do so. I think they'd be friends eventually.

Now, with Killer, it is going to take him MUCH longer. Cross is mostly acceptable because they showed genuine change and apologized for past actions - Killer, on the other hand, has not yet.

It's kinda known how Color actively saved Killer and helped him begin learning to change and recover. And he's seen firsthand how much Killer has hurt Color - they were on the front lines with them.

So naturally, once Killer tries to assimilate into their friend group, Delta fucking hates it. He is completely unwilling to accept Killer, an unapologetic sociopath with a body count higher than Delta and all his friend's combined, into their friend group. Hell no. They'd rather die (again).

It probably goes on like this for the entirety of Killer's reintegration-into-society process. No matter how hard Delta tries to bite his tongue, mask it, fake politeness and try to be patient, it is a never-ending battle between him and Killer - and in turn, with Color.

Killer being in their lives would definetly create a lot of conflict between them and Color. Delta doesn't want to let some murderer around them - especially one that worked with their literal enemies! But Color is determined to help, and not a single thing is going to stop him.

Eventually, of course, things would get better. Killer would stop being such a menace (though he'd still be chaotic) and Delta would slowly get over his pure hatred of the guy. I'm honestly not sure if they could ever be friends due to the unyielding grudges that Delta holds, but they can at least be on decent enough terms to not try to kill each other every time Color leaves them alone in a room for more than 10 seconds.

I think his relationship with Beta would be very different from all of these, though. They have quite literally known each other the longest, as they are fused together. I'd imagine that at the start of their relationship, it was pretty rocky.

Beta just got freed from his eternal chamber where he was forced to stay in the dark after being killed, and was immediately absorbed to fight and beat a demon before they left forever. That statement alone carries through some the trauma this kid endured - and now he was suddenly fused with one of the Monsters he had previously known. So of course their relationship would be very complicated at first. But with time, things would get less complicated - they would get more in sync, trust each other more.

I think that as the years go by, they'd eventually develop a brother-like relationship. They are definetly very close, always having each other's backs, ready for whatever comes next.

Now, onto headcanons about his other relationships outside of the Chromatic Crew.

For me personally, I think he'd actually get along very well with Lust! (I know a lot of people call him Plum or Sugar or whatever, but I honestly don't mind calling him Lust.) I'm not exactly sure how they would meet, though. Maybe Delta was saving him from someone? Or maybe they met in the Omega Timeline somewhere.

I think their first meeting would be a bit awkward. I don't know Lust very well so forgive me if I'm not doing him justice here, but I imagine he'd be the type to flirt slightly with people he just met (not inappropriately of course).

I personally hc that Delta is aroace, so obviously this would make a very awkward first introduction if Lust gets flirty. However, I think once they get past that (and once Delta sets firm boundaries), they would be good friends!

I also think that they would gossip together. With how involved Delta is and how strong his opinions are on about damn near anything, he definetly knows about a lot of drama happening in the Multiverse. And Lust being Lust, I imagine he'd be involved in drama, too. So I think they would definetly bond on that front.

And honestly, I think he'd be on decent terms with the Star Sanses as well. In truth though, I also don't know them very well aside from the things I see everyone else putting out here, so I may not do them justice in this topic lmao.

I think he'd be fine with Ink, honestly. He may disagree with the things Ink stands for and how he perceives the Multiverse and its inhabitants, but he can't deny that Ink has saved countless AU's - regardless of intention, morals or motive. As long as Ink doesn't try to interfere with their work, they have no issues with him.

Dream, on the other hand, I feel Delta might be a little more frustrated by. Of course Dream is a genuinely good person - that is simply who he is. But the almost foolish (in Delta's eyes, at least) belief that Nightmare can change and may come back around one day can annoy him very easily. It's obvious Nightmare isn't coming back, no matter how much Dream still loves and cares about his brother. It ain't happening. (He thinks Dream is a tiny bit delusional on that front. And also that the whole 'balance' thing is absolute bullshit. However, he thinks that pretty much everything else Dream stands for is good.)

I think he and Blue would be good friends, though! They have quite a lot in common in my eyes. I think they'd go sparring and patrol together on occasion, when they both have the time.

I also think that he and Ccino would get along very well despite how different they are. They balance each other out in a way - and plus, Delta always tips well. (He also tried to steal a cat for Color once. He felt bad and returned it the next day. Ccino has too many cats - his answer to the return was "I thought I just counted wrong. I should probably take a nap and fix that". And that was when Delta became concerned with this man's sleeping habits lmao.)

And finally, Ganz. I'm not sure if you know him or not (he's kinda unknown as well) but I imagine Delta's actually pretty close with him. Due to Ganz's depressive nature, Delta offers help at a moments notice, no matter what kind of help he needs.

All in all, they care very much about their friends.

Anyways, that's all I got! Thoughts?

(Context)

ANON I LOVE YOU, thank you so much for taking the time to answer me<33

Okay, first of all, while I was reading your answer I saw someone reblog my previous post, so @swelteringfire , sorry for the tag, but I thought you might want to read this as well

⤵️

SECOND, thanks again, it really helped and it was actually interesting!

I saw quite a few fanarts of Delta and Color and I was confused at first because I didn't understand their dynamic, but this clears up a lot of things. It actually sounds really sweet how they basically helped each other in so many different ways when they needed it. Same thing goes for Epic and Cross. I believe Cross is a really complex character, and I know he had his problems with a lot (or even the majority) of other monsters, so I'm not surprised they might've had a rough start as well seeing Delta's nature.

I'll be honest, I was particularly curious about his relationship with Killer (sorry, I love him more than anything</3), and yes, I can see how they might have their difficulties. I'm not sure if this is right, but Delta's behaviour and thoughts about Killer at first remind me a bit of what Dust or Horror might think of him too. Now, I love the found family trope for the MTT, but realistically speaking I know they both would view Killer as a sort of threat as well (which is...ironic, but understandable).

Also I didn't know about Beta but thanks, now I'm crying<33 The fandom usually tends to ignore the other souls' trauma, so it's nice to know that someone actually takes the time to focus on that sometimes. They were just kids too.

I also love how you mentioned Lust and Blue as well! Swap is basically everyone's bestie at this point, and I'm so happy about it (also he's probably the most stable out of everyone there). And Lust would absolutely love to stop and gossip after getting to know Delta!

I think he would be fine with Ink and Dream too, and at the same time it's so funny how the bad guys would be kind of scared of him

Overall he sounds like a really interesting character, I would like to see more of him!

(Sorry if it's short, but I have class now)

#I'm a literature student I love hearing people analyse their favourite characters #never stop doing that please #undertale #undertaleau #delta #delta sans

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theambitiouswoman · 2 days ago

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Anon Ask:

What do you think about making peace with an ex and catching up occasionally? (I shortened it, but this was the gist)

Response:

In normal circumstances, I would disagree.

If you don’t have an issue with him, then it’s really up to you. If he’s been decent and supportive after the breakup, then it makes sense to keep in touch, especially if you seemingly want to- but only because the guy wasn't a horrible human being. It really comes down to how these interactions make you feel. If they drain you or bring up negative emotions, ask yourself—is it even worth it? If staying in touch keeps you clinging to the past when you’re trying to move on, then don’t do it.

Personally, I’m not friends with any of my exes, even the ones who proposed to me. Not because of bad blood,—I simply don’t feel they need to be in my life. We grew into completely different people and we are not aligned at all. I have never taken an ex back either, would I? I haven't been in a scenario that has even made me consider it, so I don't know. I believe real change takes time and even then, it has to align with your own growth. In my perspective, if someone hasn’t changed much and you still feel compatible with them, that means you haven’t grown much either. If we both grew into similar paths and there is love there, then it is what it is, you know? This is obviously circumstantial.

That said, your situation is different. You’ve mentioned he’s done the work and both he and his family have remained good to you. If you two are still compatible and there are lingering feelings, then do what feels right. You shared a long history, time has passed and there’s clearly still love there. You’ve both evolved individually, so reconnecting in some way isn’t unreasonable I just wouldn't advice to be too lenient, or rush into anything until he proves himself and shows you that this new him isn't an act. You will know too because it will feel different.

I strongly believe that in love and relationships, you can’t just push feelings aside or ignore them, you really have to see these things through. They don’t just disappear. No amount of distractions will make them go away if they still need to be processed. Suppressing emotions only delays the inevitable—they’ll surface in unexpected ways, through nostalgia, dreams or even in future relationships. It is not a fun experience I promise.

So, my most sincere and love filled advice is this: If he’s not a terrible person, he genuinely loves you and he’s good to you, then follow your heart. Whether that means friendship, closure, or something more, honor what feels right for you. There’s no right or wrong answer—only what brings you peace. Just be honest with yourself about whether this connection is helping you move forward or keeping you in an emotional loop.

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nataliescatorccio · 7 months ago

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plotholes in season 4 i really don't understand now i've digested the season please feel free to explain or add your own:

- sparrow academy and especially sloane just being forgotten, luther just seeming to magically get over his wife disappearing and not fighting in any way shape or form to find her or get back to a timeline with her in it - especially as they show discovery of the phoenix academy you think five would mention that a timeline with sloane must exist out there - ben being teased on the subway train at the end of season 3 but just??? never showing up??? was that an alternative timeline? - allison doing everything last season motivated by the idea of being able to get to claire and ray only for ray to apparently leave her with zero elaboration as to why or what happened - making fatphobic jokes towards diego but actually he takes his shirt off and is still ripped as fuck? - upon regaining their powers luther getting his ape body back which??? literally had nothing to do with his marigold related powers it was because of an accident on a previous timeline? - lila getting laser beam eye powers seemingly from nowhere, but it's not as if this was ever addressed because she could still mimic powers (see: her using five's time travel ability) - very limited use of powers, there were a few cool moments in episode 2 but ultimately it felt like there was no need to even get them back as they rarely showcased them (with the exception of five's getting them stuck) - klaus throwing his marigold onto a passing man but this never getting any exploration - never explaining why jennifer was in a giant squid - never explaining why jennifer got locked up in a safe - ben apparently never discussing with klaus how he died??? - ben and jennifer not realising that the entire motel had blown up around them including murdering flocks of birds and staff when they checked out? - entire five/lila plotline but also five figuring out how to leave and not saying anything when he has always been the first to want to get back and protect his family - lila apparently hating bracelets despite the fact that diego making lila a bracelet and it keeping them linked was such a big plotpoint it was used as a teaser in previous seasons (and the bead bracelet just disappearing) - lila being so intent on saving her family and the kids by sending them to the subway and on an alternative timeline but only one 'true' timeline can survive anyway which would erase the subway - the kids existing when the parents that created them don't - the entire show being for nothing in that the umbrellas do not even exist anymore

#tua spoilers #the umbrella academy #i've had some time to digest and here are my main confusions #maybe i've just overlooked some things!#but i cba to go back and watch if i'm honest #the thing is i get we only had six episodes #but most of these i feel don't come down to it being rushed??#just bad writing #there was so much filler plot and useless plotlines #but no answering of actual questions #very confused and disappointed

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nochepsicodelica · 7 months ago

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Just thoughts of Toji being the most clingy, obsessed, bear boyfriend ever. You could be getting up from the couch to go get something to snack on from the kitchen and he'll hum and click his tongue like that's a no no, not even looking up at you when you stand, as he asks "where are you going?" in his deep voice. It makes you sit down again, but if he feels you're even an inch off from where you sat before, he'll fix that so quickly, bringing you right back to where you were, thigh to thigh with him.

Even when you're sleeping he likes to keep you attached to him. He either tangles his legs with yours or puts his leg over your hip when he's spooning you. If you're sleeping facing him, he keeps a hand on your back and digs his palm in so that you're pressed as close as you can comfortably be against him.

Oh, but mornings are a task and a half with him. It's hard enough to escape his arms because when you do manage to get out, he catches you by the hem of your shirt, not caring if it gets stretched out, and pulls you right back into his arms and doubles down on strapping you tightly in his hold by wrapping his forearm around your bare waist and keeping one of your legs locked between his. He grunts when you successfully escape, and roll out of bed. He's squinting, barely opening his sleep ridden eyes to look at you, yet he's dead set on luring you back into bed with him. He taps his hand on the space directly in front of him and mumbles a low "Come back" that brings you back, even if it made you roll your eyes. If you don't get back into bed, he follows you around all grumpy and groggy. Rests his chin in his palm all sleepy as he sits down and watches you make breakfast.

Speaking of food, he will not get out of the way when you're cooking. He's that attached to you. You're cutting vegetables and he has his arms wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head. If you cut yourself because you're trying to move too fast, he's dragging you over to the kitchen sink to rinse off the cut and wrapping your finger in a paper towel just for the time it takes him to run to the bathroom and get a bandaid. Will mumble into your ear, telling you to slow down when you start rushing your chopping again. Hums into your neck as you put all the prepped ingredients into a big pot. He ignores the stressed sighs you let out as you try to jump from space to space with him latched onto your back. King of "can I try it?" You tell him no and every five minutes he goes "can I try it now?" "How about now?" "Smells good. Now?"

Small NSFW section

During sex, he likes getting all the skin to skin he can get with you. Doggy style? He's leaning his body over your back and holding onto your tits as he rams into you. You're riding him? He has his hands on your hips, his forearms resting on your thighs. During missionary, he runs his hands all over your body, but since he wants to look at you as you lose your mind over how he fucks you, he refrains from leaning into you unless it's for the purpose of kissing or marking up your body. Loves prone bone because he gets to weigh you down and slowly make love to you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear in that honey-like voice.

Yeah... just Toji being a suffocating, clingy bear.

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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 22 days ago

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The Rain is Especially Loud Tonight

Synopsis: The Prefect gets hurt due to Crowley's negligence.

TW: Injury, Stitches, Medical Stuff, Prefect gets caught under a collapsed Ramshackle

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 (coming soon), . . .

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The room would be completely silent were it not for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The environment was more comfortable than your usual medical setting, but it still felt cold in a way.

The door creaked open and in stepped professor Crewel. "Hey, Pup." His voice lacked its usual stern tone one would hear in the classroom; instead, his voice was gentle and almost hoarse.

The hoarseness was no doubt a result of him screaming at the headmage in a roar you shiver even recalling. He had spent hours tearing into the man for his gross negligence and irresponsibility.

"Pup?" His voice became more worried when you failed to answer.

"Sorry." A meek, rasped voice leaves you throat. Your throat burns with dryness despite the 6 glasses of water you already drank, and it feels like every syllable echoes through your head and causes an intense, throbbing pain. You don't recognize the voice that claws its way out of your throat as your own.

You hear the soft scrape of a chair on the floor next to your bed. "No. Don't apologize, Pup." Rocking your gaze slowly over to him its clear to you, with the way his jaw clenches and unclenches while his eyes search the blanket covering you, that he wants to say something, but isn't sure what.

You slowly rock your head to look forward again. "Everyone's been in such a panic. . .and it's my fault, I-"

The man cuts you off as you choke on your words: "Pup. This is not your fault."

"But-" Your throat feels like its been given a massage with a thousand razor blades. The coughing your attempts to speak cause only make the pain worse.

Crewel quickly grabs another glass of water and holds it up to your lips for you to drink. "But nothing, Pup- Keep those arms down or you'll re-open the wounds. That old building was bound to collapse at some point. We all knew it. If the fault is on anyone it's on us staff. Crowley made you stay there, and we didn't stop him." The glass cup clinks slightly too harshly onto the nightstand as he sets it down.

Silence falls between the two of you.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The ticking of the clock numbs your thoughts. You force your mind to stop focusing on the pain radiating from every inch of your body and instead listen to the steady ticking of the clock. The only other sound that can be herd is the occasional hurried footsteps outside the door as the other staff do their best to take care of the situation.

Your injuries have already been treated by a specialty team sent from STYX the moment the news got to them. They were the only ones aside from Grim, Leona, and the staff that had seen your mangled form before you were wrapped up like a mummy. You didn't have to ask how bad it was. Seeing Crowley throw up at the sight of you was enough to tell you it was bad.

The STYX team had spent nearly a whole 24 hours stitching you back together like some ragdoll and rearranging the many pieces of you that had been ripped and jostled out of place. If not for them. . .well, you don't want to think about it. If you looked like a mummy on the outside, you were sure that under the bandages you looked like Frankenstein's monster. There really wasn't a single bit of you that got out of that death trap unscathed.

You were kept in the school infirmary instead of being carted off to some high-tech STYX facility only because they needed to operate on you as soon as possible and didn't want to move you too much after the initial procedures. They made do by shipping a ton (literally speaking, more like 3 tons) of medical equipment to the school, most of which was now littered around the infirmary in a rushed yet professional way.

Despite your closeness to your friends, the only people who had come to see you were the staff. It's not that none of your friends wanted to see you, but that they weren't allowed to. The doctor's worried having them in so soon, when they were still full of hysteria from the news, wouldn't be the best idea. They weren't able to text you either as your phone had been crushed in the collapse.

"How's Grim?"

Professor Crewel hums: "Physically, he's pretty unscathed. He just has a few scrapes and bruises. Mentally, he's a bit traumatized."

You supposed that made sense. You didn't remember much, but what you did remember was Grim's voice. He had been returning to the dorm from after school detention when he found the building in shambles on the ground. He called out to you but your lungs were filled with debris and your torso was being crushed by layers of rubble. The dorm ghosts met Grim at the edge of the junk pile that used to be a dorm and confirmed that you were inside and that you needed help. The ghosts talked to you as you laid there, not being able to physically move anything off you themselves. They kept you awake and assured you that Grim was getting help.

Not long later you heard shouting. Two of the ghosts stayed with you while the third went out to meet the staff and fill them in. You were told after the fact that that's about the time they called up Leona to use his unique magic so they could get you out as soon as possible (that was the first time many saw the lion run).

You were blanking in and out of consciousness when they found you, but you remember them finding you. The feeling of the weight of the rubble lessening as it was methodically turned to sand and removed (in order to not end up crushing you with sand instead), the small grains dripping on your face, and eventually, the full force of the pouring rain battering your face as the last of the rubble was removed from above you. You remember Leona's manic eyes turning horrified, Crowley puking, and worst of all, Grim's face.

"STYX sent over a few trauma counselors. There are ones assigned specifically to Leona and Grim as well since they saw some of the worst of it." Crewel finally broke the silence again.

"And you? You and. . .the other teachers were there too. . .and Sam."

"Calm down, Pup. We've all had evaluations done to assess how we're handling it. We'll be fine.

"What about. . ." Your voice trails off, but from the look in your eyes, Crewel can tell what you were about to ask.

"What about the headmage?"

You nod, wincing slightly when the motion disturbs an injury on your neck.

"He's under investigation." Crewel responds after a brief pause. He knew that you surely couldn't be all that fond of the crow, but as you saw it, he was probably also your only ticket home. Crewel looked up to gauge your response, but your face remained neutral.

"And you, Pup? I obviously know you aren't doing particularly well physically right now, but what about mentally?"

"Hm?"

Crewel hesitated, not wanting to dig around in a mental wound and make it worse, "You were. . .under there for a while. I'm sure it must've been. . .scary."

You think for a moment before responding: "Was I really under there that long? It didn't feel like it. . .I think I passed out a few times." Your mumbled words put Crewel at ease in a way. He's not happy that you had been passing out, but he was at least glad that you weren't stuck under there fully conscious and feeling every second tick by as if it were an hour.

"Hmm. I see." Crewel nods. "I ought to let you rest now. A counselor will stop by tomorrow to talk to you about what happened." He stands up as he says this, his knuckles still white from how tightly he'd been gripping the fabric of his pants. "Rest well, Pup."

You simply nod, this time more carefully as to not disturb your wounds, and watch him walk out. When the door closes you swear you hear a choked sob.

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blkkizzat · 7 months ago

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@ 𝙭𝙓𝘿𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙂𝙤𝙙69𝙓𝙭 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮...

AND GOD KNOWS I'M TRYIN', BUT THERE'S JUST NO USE IN DENYING... ❤︎︎︎︎ THE OTAKU IS MINE ❤︎︎

⏯︎︎ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER SERIES

bunny, how on earth did you end up dating this huge otaku nerd? urgh, you actually like him and match his freak too? and he buys you what?! omg! what will your friends think?!

⏯︎︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘

𖦏 genre: college au

𖦏 ratings: 18+MDNI. unprotected, ecchi gojo, dubcon, cnc, bdsm, puppy play, public sex, creampies, spanking, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, edging, squirting, threesums, femdom, the ridiculous ass pervy pet names gojo gives you & reader is called 'bunny' in lieu of 'y/n'. each story will have warnings on its story page.

𖦏 pre register: comment to be tagged. i may not respond to everyone but rest assured if you comment you will be tagged!

𖦏 gamer's guide: all fics are listed in chronological order, but likely won't be written in chronological order. summaries subject to change slightly. they also will be written over time so please don't rush me for the next installment but feel free to ask me questions i love talking about this lil freak❤︎︎

⏯︎︎ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟏: ❝ DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY! ❞

𖦏 your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? ⏯︎︎ plays: 13.3k

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟐: ❝ STICKS N' STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT CHAINS N' WHIPS EXCITE ME! ❞

𖦏 so now that you have a filthy rich boyfie who is completely obsessed with you and has moved you into his house, you're winning, right? or you will be at least— if can survive a trip to the sex dungeon. don't worry it's professionally sanitized after each use! ...what? that's not what you're worried about? oh... ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟑: ❝ AND ALL OF THAT WAS OKAY, CAUSE IT WAS IN A 3-WAY!❞

𖦏 the three of you: you, gojo and geto are like peas in a pod, especially since its summer! and if two of you start f*cking in that pod well its only natural that the third want to join in, right? besides, you both already want to f*ck him. just make sure your current boyfie doesn't get too jealous from how hard you are moaning on your other besties' joystick. your only his ecchi angel, remember? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟒: ❝ IN THE BEDROOM I BE SCREAMIN', BUT OUTSIDE I KEEP IT QUIET—OR TRY TO AT LEAST!❞

𖦏 you can only keep your relationship underwraps from the rest of your friend group for so long. but you need to ease them into the idea first! although, when there's a yacht party for nanami's bday how is your uber clingy otaku boyfie supposed to keep his hands off of you when you're looking like the most perfect pervy princess in that itty bitty swimsuit? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟓: ❝ YEAH, HE MY MAN, HE WAS NEVER YO TYPE! ❞

𖦏 school is back! thankfully you somehow manage to instill some kind of decency into your otaku boyfie over the summer so he can come across as normal enough to make his own friends. but did you do too good of a job? wait, he actually has a lil rizz now? you mean you aren't the only girl attracted to him anymore... hol'up! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟔: ❝ MOVE IT UP, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, OH—SWITCH IT UP LIKE NINTENDO! ❞

𖦏 hey, when did you become freaker than your otaku boyfie? so he caught you touching yourself to his femdom p0rn when he came back early from a business trip? yikes! now he wants to try it out with you? don't worry you will do a great job training your new play puppy boyfie! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

⏯︎︎ 𝐃𝐋𝐂:

𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝐧𝐧𝐧: ❝PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ❞

𖦏 your loser otaku boyfie wants to take you to an anime convention and enter a couple's cosplay contest. you agree on one condition, he has to participate in No Nut November. Fair trade right? What could go wrong? ⏯︎︎ plays: 5079

⏯︎︎ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒:

𖦏 soundtrack: [ x ] 𖦏 moodboards: [ lvl 1 ] 𖦏 amazing art by amazing readers: [ x ] 𖦏 faq/thirsts: [ x ]

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.︎︎

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misayani · 2 months ago

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HONEY (R U COMING?) — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x fem reader

◜arrogant and bratty reader (044) recruiting se-mi (380) for the second game

𔗨 author's note — wasn't seeing enough fanfics for my baby so ... [lowercase intended]

"i dont see anyone else that's good enough for us" you hear gyeong-su comment with a huff.

you're currently standing with three idiots—thanos, gyeong-su, and nam-gyu, slightly distanced from the three with your arms crossed against your chest and while your twirl your hair.

"yo thanos, what are we going to do?" nam-gyu's irritating voice cut through all the noise of other people communicating.

thanos turned to him, his head bopping, motherfucker's high again. "i don't fucking care man, let them come to us. i mean, who wouldn't want to be with the great thanos!"

both men chuckled as nam-gyu speaks up once again, "what about you 044? make yourself useful, can't just sit pretty doing nothing eh?".

"and you call yourself useful?" you scoff as you turned around to face the three, eyebrows raised. thanos smirked at you as you sighed, "fine, i'll make myself useful. no one would probably even care to join you, even if you begged."

"you bitc—" nam-gyu would've reached you already if it weren't for thanos holding him back while cackling at the both of you.

with one last huff, you strutted your way to the crowd, scanning around the room for someone who met your personal standards—hot, unbothered, and most specially, a woman.

your eyes landed on a person wearing a jacket with the number '380'. with a confident smirk, you walked towards the woman whose back is facing you and talking to someone.

"leave." your voice broke their conversation as they both looked at you. you eyes were darted to the boy specifically, him being the one you told to leave.

"w-what?" the boy stuttered, looking at you bewildered.

you furrow your eyesbrows, taking a step closer to the boy, "do i seriously need to get you hearing aids? i said leave."

the boy scrambled away before you can even take your second step to him. with a pleased smile, you turned to the utterly attractive woman who looked at you with an amused expression.

"join me." short and straight to the point. you were confidently sure that she would just say yes and come with you— surely, who in their right minds would turn down a pretty girl's offe-

"why should i?" she voices out. oh. my. fucking. god is her voice so alluring. her looks already made your legs feel like jelly and then comes her voice?— yes lord.

snapping out of your fantasies, you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at her with an expression that read 'how dare you?'

"a-are you serious? why shouldn't you?" you looked at her up and down in attempt to intimidate her, but really just an excuse to check her out.

"can't just expect me to join you after rudely making the boy i was talking to leave, sweetheart." she crosses her arms as she made her way closer.

sweetheart. heat rushed to your cheeks and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"what do you want me to do then? he doesn't look like someone who's good enough to join forces with in a death game like this anyways." you rebut.

"and you think you're good enough?" she smirks at you. before you could even utter another word, she straights up and looks down at you—caused by height difference, making you feel small— and chuckles.

"what's your name and give me one good reason why i should join you."

you told her your name, which made you sound too eager for your liking, before you straightened yourself up and flicked you hair to the back.

"i'll make sure you win. team up with someone who actually looks like they're capable of winning instead of someone who looks like a lost puppy." your eyes darted to the boy she was talking to earlier who was now talking to other people before returning your gaze to her.

she crosses her arms and brings a finger to her mouth to bite down on and stares at you, which made you scream internally. what the fuck. how can someone be this hot?

after some silence between you two, she spoke up "fine. but if i lose, i'll come for you."

huh. 'come for me?' won't be such a bad idea, right? the thoughts made you smirk as you boldy traveled your eyes over her figure.

"oh, i think you have me mistaken. i won't mind at all if you came for me" your voice sounded innocent, but your words were laced with an obvious innuendo.

"oh?" she smirks. before you could even let her finish her sentence, you speak up once again to avert the topic.

"how will you come for me if you die anyways?" you roll your eyes to try and hide your flustered state. "which, by the way, you won't. my group is decent, me being the best member of course."

and as if on cue, thanos and the two made their way to the both of you, his annoying voice dominating the noise surrounding you.

"there you are doll, been lookin for you." you scoff at his words as thanos turns to face 380, which you still don't know the name of, "and who is this señorita?"

you opened your mouth to say something but 380 beat you to it. "se-mi. she recruited me." she says, nodding to you.

moanable name. you thought.

"really? another woman? you already make this team weak." nam-gyu yaps as he turns to face you, saliva escaping his mouth. filthy.

you scoff as you step away and point your finger at him, "fucking shut your mouth. you haven't done shit to this team. your ass can't fucking talk."

before a fight between you two broke out, gyeong-su already restrained nam-gyu. thanos whistles, "well. there's that."

the purple-haired man throws his arm over your shoulders and faced nam-gyu. "let's not talk shit now eh? we're a fucking team!" he yells as he raised his free arm up, "try not to kill each other off, we still have games to play."

nam-gyu rolls his eyes and se-mi watches the scene unfold, snickering.

"now come on my folks, come on." thanos frees you from his hold as he walked through the crowd, arms spread as if bragging, with nam-gyu and gyeong-su following.

your lips unsubconsciously turn into a pout as you turned to face se-mi, who was already looking at you.

"cute." she eyes you up and down and starts walking towards thanos' direction. your mouth opens as if you let out a silent gasp at what she said and just stared.

she realized you weren't following so she stopped and turned her head to look at you.

"coming?" she smirks

oh i'm definitely coming.

@misayani

#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #se-mi x reader #squid game smut #୭ ୨♡୧ ৎ misa writes ...

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anantaru · 8 months ago

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genshin man (your choice ofc) overstimulating reader ☺️🫵🏻☺️🫵🏻

・✶ ｡ including — alhaitham, kinich ☁︎ synopsis — he likes overstimulating his darling, he loves it, even <3

warnings — overstimulation, sweet talks with alhaitham <3 teasing genshin man, kinich is a little mean, fem! reader

— alhaitham

"if you could only see yourself the way i see you," alhaitham murmurs as his lips brush against your ear ever so tenderly— and his voice was like a soothing balm hovering on top of you, grounding you in the present moment even as your senses spiraled into near insanity.

with purpose, his hands move and explore your writhing skin, discovering every sensitive spot on your body as his hips thrust with vigor, the messy, wet squelches of your cunt making you arch your back as the bubble inside your belly threatens to pop.

with alhaitham, there was no rush in his actions, only a deep, profound care to give you the most intense pleasure until your body borders on overstimulation and love. his fingertips trace delicate patterns over your skin as his eyes, filled with an intense yet tender focus, watch how your legs shake and quiver around his narrow waist.

you continue to arch into his touch and whimper when you catch his lips curve into a small smile each time your pussy squeezes him, his gaze never leaving your face. he wanted, no, needed to see every expression you made, every moment of pleasure he could draw from you until you lose control of yourself, the feeling of his erection pressing into you over and over being unlike anything profanely possible.

"just let go for me, yeah?" he whispers, his voice like a husky command that sent a cold shiver down the entirety of your spine, "i'm with you, here with you," as he continues to grind his cock into you, the lazy, yet skilled drags of his shaft rushing around your spongey walls as you mewl out his name.

there was nothing you could do other than cling to his shoulders, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the sensations were beginning to turn overwhelming, each touch, each kiss, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you and feeling like a mountain was tied against your frame, looming and threatening to crush you.

his hands moved lower to find your swollen clit to pinch and press into the little pearl before rubbing you fiercely as it that had you crying out in deep pleasure until you just couldn't take it anymore.

your body felt so tense, the pleasure building to its pinnacle as you messily released all over his cock, intense waves of pleasure bursting through you as you simply shattered, your body convulsing in his strong arms as alhaitham held you through it all, his merciless touch on your clit never faltering as he rubbed you through your blissful orgasm.

— kinich

kinich's eyes sparkled with mischief as he traced a finger down your arm, his touch light and teasing while his grin was somewhat playful, quite menacing as well if being honest, yet promising a night of unrestrained pleasure until he could see you fall apart for him.

"you look so tempting to me, i can't wait to feel you over and over and over," the man purred, his voice resembling a seductive whisper as you leaned into his warmth, his breath hot against your neck as he kissed a trail down to your collarbone before biting into your flesh.

it's obvious he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to make you beg and cry.

in a matter of seconds, you tremble underneath him, toes curled and your hips grinding up so your clit could rub into his pelvis as kinich chuckled at your eagerness, finding it rather amusing as it fueled the ego inside of him, "patience, ever heard of it, hmm?" he teases as his lips brush against your ear, "don't you realize we have all night?"

his fingers induce electric bolts into you as they danced over your skin with ease, never lingering in one spot for too long as he found it to be the most pleasurable if he was able to tease you until you would literally break— because you see, each touch was a tantalizing promise of the pleasure to come, leaving you breathless and yearning for more and kinich utterly adored that.

"how odd, you're so sensitive there," he remarks with a giggle as he messily thrusts into your cunt before grinding his hips down whenever he was fully inside, "i wonder why," as his voice turned in a husky whisper, his eyes meeting yours in a trice, a spark of amusement and desire in their depths and taking you by surprise.

"ugh, i love seeing you like this, so vulnerable,"

kinich's grin was wicked, insane, his eyes never leaving yours as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. "more, come on," he whispers, "i want to see you fall apart for me, you think you can do that?"

and with a final, teasing thrust— so strong, in fact, that it made your boobs jiggle up and down, he sent you over the edge, your voice dying in your throat before you felt something pop in your stomach and fuck, it was so effortlessly quick like he didn't even need to try to make you feel this way.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #kinich x reader #kinich smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #kinich x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

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evieelyzabethh · 3 months ago

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"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

#arcane x reader #arcane #vi x reader #viktor x reader #ekko x reader #mel x reader #jayce x reader #arcane headcannon #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #ekko arcane #jayce arcane #mel arcane #vi arcane #viktor arcane

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scribeofmorpheus · 3 months ago

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Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

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landoughnut · 23 days ago

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Pit Stop Staring

♡ masterlist - request - emoji anons

♡ pairing - lando norris x mechanic!fem!reader

♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!

♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy

Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.

The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.

As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.

The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.

Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.

You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.

You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.

"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.

Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.

A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.

His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.

Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"

That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.

"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.

"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.

Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"

"What? No he didn't?"

"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.

"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.

Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"

"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."

Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.

"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.

"So are you going to ask him out later?"

You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.

"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.

When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.

Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.

Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"

Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.

"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.

"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.

"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.

"U-uh I don't know...."

"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"

The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"

Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.

Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.

You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"

You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.

Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"

Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"

You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.

"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"

You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"

"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.

You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.

"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.

"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.

"You have to be joking!"

He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.

He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"

Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.

He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"

"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.

He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"

You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.

Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.

He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"

Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."

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goldsbitch · 1 month ago

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Kiss with a fist

To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.

or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.

warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids

There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.

He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.

"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.

And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.

Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.

Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”

He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.

It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.

He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.

He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"

Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."

Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.

Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.

"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.

Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.

He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"

Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"

Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.

“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.

“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.

"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.

She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.

Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.

"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.

Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.

"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.

"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.

"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.

He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.

The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.

He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.

The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.

“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”

Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.

"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.

Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.

"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."

Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."

Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.

"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.

Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.

The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”

“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”

“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. “All good here. No problems.”

There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.

"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"

Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”

"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.

"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.

"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."

This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.

Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.

"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."

Even he can't believe his tone.

"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."

Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"

"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."

"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.

"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."

"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.

It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.

"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.

"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.

"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.

"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.

"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"

"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.

Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"

It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.

Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."

"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"

Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."

"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"

"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."

"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""

Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."

Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.

"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."

Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"

Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."

Fine.

The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.

Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.

"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.

"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.

Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."

"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"

Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.

"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.

Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.

As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.

"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”

Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.

"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."

"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."

Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."

The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.

----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all

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