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ghosty-writes-23 · 3 days ago

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Kneeling Before Her. - Leon S Kennedy.

Ghosty's Notes: okay so this was a random idea I had randomly thinking about Wife!FemReader + Older!Leon (Between Damnation & Vendetta.) also I wrote this on my phone which is something I don't normally do, but it's like 2am and I can't be stuffed grabbing my laptop, so please forgive me if their is alot of spelling mistakes.

Summary: Y/n and Leon had been fighting alot lately, but even with how much they where fighting it didn't stop them from desiring each other.

NSFW Tags: Smutty Content, Eating Out, Pleading, Body Worship, Desperate!Husband!Leon, Hope for the future, Happy Ending.

Used Pet Names: Darling, Sweetheart, Princess, Love, Good Boy, My Wife.

| ID!PROFESSOR!LEON COMING IN 2 DAYS |

!Unedited!

Word Count: 1.9k

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Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty :] ❤️🦝

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Y/n and Leon had been fighting alot recently, from small things such as dirty dishes in the sink to Y/n tripping over Leon's alcohol bottles and she had enough. Tonight was like any other night, Leon was coming home from a mission and smelt like a brewery, the pair had argued yet again, Y/n was upset Leon had come home drunk and Leon was trying to justify he wasn't that drunk yet he could barley walk a straight line, she had guested one of the staff from the bar had called him a taxi because there was no way in hell he would be able to drive in the state he was in.

Sometimes she felt as if Leon treated her as if she was dumb, she knew this wasn't what he really thought of her, but when he was drunk he would treat her as if she was an idiot and it was getting on her last nerve, there is only so much a person can take before they snap, as Leon passed out on the living room couch Y/n had thrown a blanket over him and left a bottle of water and Advil on the coffee table before going upstairs to what used to be their shared bedroom.

Leon mostly slept in the spare bedroom when he was home, it was strange feeling to feel alone in her own house even with Leon home. Shaking her head Y/n closed the door and started to get ready for bed, such as doing her nightly routine of showering, changing into comfortable pajamas, drying her hair and doing nightly skincare and brushing her teeth and taking the last of her medication for the day.

When she got into bed, she couldn't help but wonder how did her and Leon's relationship end up like this, she knew Leon had alot of trauma before they had met, he had warned her that he wasn't the most easiest person to get along with but that didn't stop Y/n, she didn't see Leon as the government agent or the weapon that most people seemed too, but just a man that had the worse timing most of the time but once he started to open up he was a complete sweetheart.

When they had gotten married Y/n and Leon had gotten married in 2006 she thought everything would be perfect, they would have a house maybe out of town, maybe a fixer upper they could do together as a couple project, like an old historical cottage that has a nice front yard where she could plant flowers, maybe have a dog or a cat.

Leon would have left the government and got a less dangerous job after he found out she was pregnant, everything was meant to fall into place, but sometimes promises are broken even by the people we love the most, this had lead Y/n to start wondering was Leon still the man she had fallen in love with and married all those years ago, or was that man gone and replaced with an drunk, anger hollow shell of his former self.

Shaking her head Y/n turned off her bedside table lamp and layed back in bed, all this thinking was hurting her brain so she decided to try and get some sleep, even if she had to force herself too.

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Later on in the night the small city apartment was quiet, the only sound was a ticking clock and the soft hum of the fridge, but upstairs their was a soft buzzing sound and muffled soft mews filtering from under the door. Y/n had her eyes closed as she worked the toy on it's medium setting, after forcing herself to sleep only to end up tossing and turning, she knew the perfect thing to put her to sleep.

It was the ultimate relaxer or so she thought, her bottom lip was between her teeth as her middle finger and ring finger where working her clit, her other hand was working the toy inside her quivering walls. She couldn't remember the last time she had to use her toy to get off, usually her fingers would work just fine but she knew her body was craving something or somebody else.

In her mind was replying the last time Leon had touched her, when her hands where gripping his pillow as her hand was buried in it, his hand was in her hair, tugging firmly but not to roughly as he thrusted into her from behind, he had come home from a stressful work day and needed to let off some steam and who was she to say no to her husband, with Leon's stamina they would at least go for 2 maybe 3 rounds.

But she was soon pulled out of her fantasy when she heard footsteps, she slowly turned off the toy before hearing a soft knock on the door. "Come in." Y/n spoke softly soon the door opened and Leon sheepishly walked in only wearing his briefs and no short, he looked more sober but their was still bags under his eyes. "Did I wake you?" Y/n asked causing Leon to shake his head as he closed the door behind himself.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart." Leon spoke as he started walking towards their old shared bed, Y/ was at a lost for words this was the first time he apologized for anything in the past few weeks, so she was a little surprised but before she could get any words out, Leon slowly lowered himself to his kneeled in front of her, his head down as if he couldn't make eye contact with her.

"I'm so sorry for being a shitty husband, I know I should have come to you, I just didn't want to burden you with my problems, I wanted to protect you from them, but instead I did the exact opposite." Leon says before he shakes his head before finally he looks up at her. "I know I don't deserve you Y/n or your forgiveness, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you." Leon says causing her heart to skip a beat.

"You really hurt me." Y/n started and Leon put his head down like a puppy that was in trouble, "I know princess." Leon says shamefully. "But I am willing to forgive you if you promise this behavior stops now okay, I want you to go to counseling and get help." Y/n says and Leon listens and nods his head. "I'll start looking in the morning." Leon says causing Y/n to smile ever so slightly and nod her head, maybe this wasn't the end of their marriage.

"Good." Y/n said and just as she was about to move over in the bed, Leon reached out to grab her wrist to stop her, but as he did she knew he felt her hand was wet, she saw his eyes widen slightly before he started to bring her hand to his lips. "Leo-." she tried to protest but soon his lips where around her fingers.

the warm and soft feeling of Leon's mouth on her fingers caused her to gasps softly, their was something so erotic about a man on his knees lapping and sucking his wife's juice's off her fingers, especially a man that hasn't tasted her in months. she watched Leon her thighs clenching together as his tongue gently gliding between her fingers.

But soon Leon let her finger's go with a soft pop, a string of his saliva was between her now drool covered fingers and his lips, he looked up at her she could see the desperation and the lust in his eyes, because her were probley mirroring the same look ad if she was honest she was too pent up to let this moment slip through her fingers.

"Can I have more." Leon asked his voice was more husky but still had a slightly desperateness to it. "Will you be a good boy?" Y/n asked with a small tease in her voice but Leon nodded his head quickly, instead of getting up onto the bed so he could be comfortable, Leon was still kneeling on the ground but moved her so she was sideways on the bed but her ass was on the edge of the bed.

Leon started peppering kisses down her ankle, to her legs and then to her thighs, her body was starting to warm up, her thighs clenching with every soft press of his lips, she was nearly about to put him in a headlock between her thighs. When he finally got the edge of her panties that she knew where soaked, she let out a little mew as she could feel his warm breath against her.

"Please can I taste you now sweetheart." Leon softly pleaded as he looked up at her, she knew he was pulling the puppy dog eyes but even with the bags under his blue eyes and the stubble on his face that she knew would be scratching against her inner thigh. Y/n nodded her head again biting her lips.

She could see a small smile come onto Leon's face, as his index finger hooked into the side of her panties, he then lent in and placed a gentle kiss on her aching clit and quivering folds causing a soft moan to leave her lips and her fingers to go into his dark hair. She heard Leon groan softly as he started to lick and suckle as if he was savoring every moment of this.

His name falling off her lips in sweet moans and mews, the sound filled the bedroom as she gently gripped his hair, this was what she had missed the most between their fighting, she missed the intimacy between them, the love, affection, desire, want and need for each other what they can only get for each other, it almost made tears spring to her eyes.

Looking down Y/n saw Leon's face was buried between her holds, his eyes closed as he feasted on her like a starved man, she knew she wasn't going to last long as she already felt the familiar knot forming in her stomach. "It's okay, darling you can come for me." Leon grunted against her flesh, his stubble starching against her inner thighs.

With Leon's permission she came on his tongue with a high pithed cry of his name, her back slightly arching off the bed as her thighs trembled around his head, Leon helped her ride out her orgasm before he pulled away after placing a gentle and loving kiss on her folds, his face was coated in her slick but their was a small blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, there was a slightly glazed over look in his eyes.

But when she looked down, saw that Leon's cock was straining through his brief's he shook his head before slowly standing up. "Tonight was about you, I'll do deal with this." Leon spoke causing her to pout slightly but she nodded his head, he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before he headed to the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom.

Maybe this was the start of the new beginning, maybe their was hope for their relationship, Y/n could only hope and pray but this was a good start and it could only get better for here....

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2025. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

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foli-vora · 2 days ago

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run to you: chapter eight

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: it's here. Finally. Don't look at me. Can't believe we only have 4 chapters to go after this one! I have such a deep fond love for this little universe and I'm so damn thankful for all of your comments, reblogs and asks! Your kind words make my bloody year! Hope you enjoy angels x

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and ‘You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: 4.7k-ish

Warnings: angsttttt, swearing, general heartache and bittersweet goodbyes, a break in, these two make me want to listen to a heartbreak playlist all day and just cry

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

The words play in your mind as you make a beeline to the public bathrooms, a relentless cycle over and over and over. Your conversation with the consultant had been mind achingly frustrating, and yet, despite knowing his little tricks and various mental hoops he gets his chosen victims to jump through, you can’t help it—you give in.

You find yourself jumping through those damn hoops, letting his words drive you borderline insane.

Jane has it all wrong—so wrong—so why can’t you stop thinking about what he said? What would give him the impression that Marcus has feelings for you? Feelings that extend beyond the expected responsibility of a leading agent, and mere guilt lingering from their shared history.

Does he see something you can’t? Has he heard something? Found something?

The bitter tang of resentment builds in the back of your throat as your mind goes down more paths, creating more questions with no answers in sight. This is what he wants.

Jane wants you to be overwhelmed with questions and what ifs and a desperation for the truth, so you’ll go to him for the answers. So he can spin words, play and pick your brain some more. It’s a cycle, one that obviously works well for him. This is how he plays, and it’s vicious and cruel, and—

—and yet you still let his words confuse you, still mull over them in your head.

You keep fucking falling for it.

Your hands shake as they deposit your bag beside the sink, the cold water splashing over your skin doing nothing to divert your thoughts or distract you.

Of course there are no feelings anywhere.

Maybe this is just a ploy to hurt or embarrass Marcus—surely there’d be some bad energy there, given the history between them both. Maybe Jane’s not finding enough entertainment within the investigation and is instead making his own.

You don’t know. What you do know is that you refuse to waste one more fucking second wondering what is going on in that man’s head, and what his ploy is.

It hits you as you stare back at your reflection in the mirror, the obvious internal war written across your face with creases of stress and watery eyes—you can’t do this. You’re not cut out for this rollercoaster of drama. You’ve had enough.

Jane, the case, Marcus, the FBI—you’ve had enough of all of it. You’ve done enough, and Marcus has always said to tell him when you decide you’re done. He’s always said that you’re under no obligation to do anything you don’t want to do, that you could back out at any point. Or maybe that was just another lie.

The bitter part of you churns to life, still angry, still holding onto the aching resentment from the past. Vicious thoughts and memories tainted by heartbreak flood your mind, but it doesn’t seem to cut as deep as it usually would. He didn’t lie about that.

He said you were in control, he gave you his word—and you took it. You trust it.

Would he be disappointed?

You did tell him that you’d help, that you’d do what the FBI asked of you and get them the information they need, but at what cost? Your mental health was already taking hits, an array of emotions continuously assaulting you from merely being around Marcus again, let alone being bombarded and interrogated by some wanna-be mentalist freak from California.

No. He’d understand.

You dry up, blotting the paper towel across your throat and willing your heart to slow down as you look over your frame in the reflection. The wire’s still perfectly hidden, tucked deeply away under your jacket from where Marcus had pinned it, but the mere thought of it sitting there has a cold dread creeping along your veins.

That whole conversation with Jane had been recorded.

Marcus is going to listen to it. His team is going to listen to it. You can’t deal with the fallout of that. You can’t be humiliated like that. What would he do? What would he say?

Though of course you know the truth and that the idea of Marcus having any type of romantic inclination towards you is fucking ridiculous, you’re still not exactly fond of the idea of sitting there and listening to him explain why he does not, and would not, ever have feelings for you.

Maybe—maybe you could get ahead of it.

Surely if you just tell him, ask him, that the recording be discarded as you’re backing out. There’s nothing on there, there’s no need for it. Just delete it, forget about it and move on.

You grab your things and leave the safety of the bathroom, clutching your bag like a lifeline as you begin to make your way towards the exit, but then you see him. He’s a good distance away from the path you’re taking, and you wouldn’t have noticed him at all if you weren’t suddenly highly aware of every person milling about the building.

Edward Thomas.

Someone who had played a big part in your life before everything went to shit. He’d been involved with some of your replicas, their creations and the deals around them once they were complete. You weren’t aware of his exact place in all of it, but you know damn well it was much higher on the food chain than you.

He looks the same, despite everything. Did nothing happen to him when it all fell apart? Was he not arrested along with everyone else?

Probably not. He had money—serious money. He had connections. He had the network you had ensured to keep out of. Perhaps you would’ve been better following his footsteps, kissing asses and sucking up to the underground elites of the world, making more of a name for yourself behind closed doors. You would've been untouchable, invincible.

Where would you be now? Back in your penthouse, mostly unscathed and living life as normal.

There’s no use dwelling on it. It’s a can of worms you could continue to open and close for the rest of your life, wondering what if until it drove you mad.

Doing what Edward Thomas did, does—it’s not you. It wasn’t you back then, and it wouldn’t be you now. You just wanted to paint, you weren’t in it for the money. Although, admittedly, it did help.

You want to move towards him, to hover in the background beyond the group of smartly dressed people surrounding him, enough for him to see you, to peak his interest. This could be what Marcus, the FBI, needs. This could, potentially, help the investigation, if he is still doing dealings under the table.

But then what? You’d be stuck having to go further. There’d be no backing out. There’d be more drama, more headaches, more mind games, more lies. You can’t do it.

This has developed into something you don’t think you have the nerve for. The idea of it all seemed so easy when Marcus came to you, but the reality of it? You don’t have the mentality for it all. You’re not an agent. You’re not trained for this. You don’t have people behind you, covering for you and protecting you.

You turn away.

Rigsby lingers by the bathroom you had exited from, nose in a pamphlet showcasing the must sees of the museum, but his eyes flick to you as if to check on your movements. You swallow, give a barely there shake of your head and then continue on your way out, leaving him to alert Marcus that you had left.

—

You’re only a mere few feet away, but he can feel the distance that now stretches in between you. Distance that could never be removed or forgotten. The thick sheen of glass hides him from your gaze, but that doesn’t stop him from flinching when your eyes glance at the mirror upon entry.

He’s a coward. A fucking coward. He intentionally sat out on the move today, refused to be a part of the team bringing you in, all because he was scared of seeing your face and the look of betrayal in your eyes. Shit, he’s still scared now. Maybe that;s why he stays behind the glass, refusing to be a part of the interrogation.

You’re holding on so fucking strong, he’s damn near proud.

Jenner throws everything at you. He does all that he can, but when you don’t budge, he throws an apologetic glance towards the mirror that you thankfully don’t catch. It’s time to pull out the ace card, to let you know they had more on you than you think, and it makes him fucking sick.

He can’t move.

You’re confused when you hear the mention of his name, his real name, and why wouldn’t you be? You have no idea who he is, who he really is.

Sweat slicks his palm as he pulls at the door to the interrogation room, builds on the back of his neck under the crisp collar of his shirt as he takes a seat. He can’t look at you. He can’t look at you because he’s a piece of shit coward, unable to confront all the shit he’s done.

Bile stings at his throat.

It takes every fucking bit of him to keep it together.

The file is heavy in his hand as he slides it across the table before he finally manages to meet your gaze. It cuts him to the very core. He feels the hit of it deep in his chest. His jaw starts to ache from the pressure of keeping his teeth clenched tightly together, forcefully swallowing down every flicker of pain and guilt and self fucking loathing until he’s nothing but a blank slate.

Tears start to build rapidly in your eyes and he knows then and there that he’ll never forget that look of pure and utter heartbreak creasing your face. The face he had stroked so softly, kissed so lovingly.

“Special Agent Pike,” you rasp softly, almost choking on the words.

It’s a viciously harsh blow to the system and he falters almost immediately.

I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry—

You don’t look at him anymore, and he’s almost glad for it. You’d see how he starts to crumble, how his tongue darts out to wet his lips in a panic and how Jenner makes a small gesture for him to take a deep breath and cool it before he says something that’ll end him in deep shit.

“I want a lawyer.”

—

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore. Any of it.”

He seems to be expecting the words, taking them in with nothing but a small reassuring smile and a simple, “Okay.”

Honestly, you were expecting a little more. Maybe a few questions fired as to why you couldn’t do it when you seemed so intent on following through with it all originally, but when he says nothing else, you deflate. You wet your lips, wondering if there’s some sort of catch, but Marcus remains silent, watching the flutter of emotions pass over your face.

“That’s it?”

“When I told you that you’re in control of this, I meant it. If you’re done, then you’re done.”

Hearing him confirm it brings such a sweet relief to your mind, you can practically feel the weight of it all start to seep from your shoulders, but despite that guilt still sits in the pit of your stomach, uncomfortable and relentless. It falls from your mouth before you can even think to stop it—

“I’m sorry. I thought—I don’t know. I guess I just thought it would feel different, or be easier than it actually is. I think I’m just… tired. Of everything. I want—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he cuts in quietly, giving a small reassuring smile when you glance at him. “We asked a lot of you, and I understand that. It’s okay—really.”

Your conversation with Jane plays back through your mind, almost tauntingly. A small part of you wants to tell Marcus about it, he should know Jane’s off parading about on his own path without a care for the plans or rules or whatever it is that gets set in place during an investigation, but then what?

He’d want to know what he said, and you don’t have it in you to look him in the eyes and tell him. You don’t want to open yourself up to that embarrassment. Of course what Jane said is all bullshit, it’s ridiculous to even think about yourself, but to have Marcus bluntly tell you so would be a bit of a slap across the face.

“The recording,” you start with the creepings of hesitation, tongue rolling along your lips in an effort to bring the words out smoother, “what happens to it?”

A flutter of a frown creases his brows as he eyes you from across your kitchen before he gives a noncommittal shrug, finding no harm in your curiosity.

“It gets put in with the rest of the evidence.”

“Even if there’s nothing on it?”

“It would need to be cleared by an agent first, but if there’s nothing of use on it then it just gets discarded.”

“If—if I asked you to delete it now, without listening to it, is that… would you?”

The frown immediately deepens.

He seems to stand straighter, something seeping into his expression as your question lingers in the air, and you watch, waiting for the suspicion that doesn’t seem to come. He just seems concerned, whether on your behalf or his investigation you don’t know. He doesn’t seem to know that Jane had jumped on you at the museum, surely that would’ve been something he would address immediately upon seeing you after the last time, so you’re positive he’s unaware of what’s on it.

“I—” he stops, tongue running along his lips, “I can’t risk the case—”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you. There’s nothing worthwhile on it, but if I wanted you to forget about it and delete it, would you?”

Would you trust me?

It goes unspoken, but it lingers behind your words. Despite the anxiety churning in your stomach and the panic building in your chest from how he’ll take your request and what he’ll think of it, you’re curious. He has no reason to trust you whatsoever, especially given your history, but some sort of shaky foundation had been built between you over your time working with him—how far did it go?

His concern grows, and he takes a careful step towards you. “Has something happened?”

Should you tell him? No. Just be done with it all.

“Just answer the question.”

“What happened?”

“Marcus.”

The frown remains steady between his brows, his eyes unwavering as they focus on yours and study your features, but eventually, after a few moments of searching your expression, he gives a small careful nod. You can’t help but recoil slightly in surprise, not expecting the answer. You don’t even know what you were expecting.

Your first response is to call him out, because surely he wouldn’t, but as you watch him and the way he starts to shift almost nervously, you start to believe him.

“You would?” You question softly, brows pulling together. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to.”

That’s it? That’s all it would take?

He swallows, eyes falling to the floor as his hands find his hips. “Are—are you asking me to?”

“Maybe.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“No.”

It’s not an answer he wants, but he seems to accept it. His frown stays on you, his eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as he attempts to work out whatever you may be thinking. You see the conflict play across his face, the urge to push for more answers, the want to understand.

Something seems to click behind his eyes and you don’t know what to brace for in the seconds that follow. Anger? Accusations?

He strides towards the kitchen counter, takes the little device in hand and holds a small button along the side until it gives a small beep followed by a clear confirmation of ‘recording deleted’. It’s over and done with within the span of thirty seconds and you’re left reeling.

Holy shit. He did it. You stare, wide eyed as he tosses it back down and runs a hand over his mouth, before turning and pacing the small width of your apartment.

You watch him go.

There was nothing on it other than your little spat with Jane, but he didn’t know that. You could be hiding anything. You could’ve turned on him, evaded Rigsby’s watchful eye, found someone in your old circle and told them everything you and the FBI have been doing. Anything could’ve been on it, and yet he listened to you.

He trusted you.

“You could’ve just deleted evidence,” you breathe, still stuck in disbelief.

He knows it wasn’t. He fully believes you would never ask that of him, but at that very moment, he couldn’t have cared less if it was evidence. He would’ve dealt with it, like before. Technology isn’t always reliable, and issues almost always arise during cases with something tech-related. No one would know. No one would need to know.

“Yes,” he states plainly, and you’re so perplexed by the word and how he seemingly shrugs off his actions that you need to take another moment to process it.

“Just like that.”

He finally stops pacing, turning to face you fully.

“Just like that,” he echoes quietly.

This was a bad idea.

Not just the erasure of potential evidence and his apparent nonchalance regarding it and the risk to the position he had gruellingly earned over the years, but the whole thing.

The whole fucking thing.

He should never have bought you into this. He should never have knocked on your door. He’s right back to where he was back then, stuck and doing some very questionable shit he would easily lose his job over all because he’s an idiot.

You don’t hide away from his gaze, and he doesn’t shy away from yours. You’re still trying to work out his thought process, the logic behind his actions, and you keep coming up with nothing. There’s no reason why he would do something like this, for a nobody like you. There’s no motivation, no need on his side to do as you ask and blindly delete shit without questioning it further… unless—

Unless, what Jane said holds some merit.

Why else would he do it?

No.

Maybe he’s just doing it as a favour, to try and make up for all of the shit he put you through. That makes more sense than him having feelings for you. He hasn’t been around you enough to justify any sort of feelings—he doesn’t know you. Or is he carrying them from your previous relationship? But it’s been ages since you were together, and that was all fake back then. There was nothing real there, it was all a lie.

The headache is coming back.

You exhale slowly through your lips, eyes falling away from him and to the simple black device once more. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You don’t need to know any more. It’s all done. It’s over, and you can finally get back to your quiet little normal life. You can move on.

“Thank you.” And you mean it.

“Thank you,” he murmurs quietly, clearing his throat. “I know this must’ve been very hard for you, and we appreciate all of the hard work you’ve put into this investigation. I appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” you half smile, the pull of it natural.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he huffs softly in amusement, slowly coming closer to pick up the device from the counter and tuck it away into his pocket.

“I mean, I wasn’t thrilled to begin with, but… it turned out okay.”

He smiles fully, and it hits just like it used to. You don’t look away. There’s no harm in taking it all in one last time. You won’t see him after this. You didn’t know last time, before it all fell apart. You didn’t get a chance to enjoy all of the little things you liked. You didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

“Well, I’ll—I’ll leave you to it. Thank you again. There might be some final paperwork, but I’ll post it out.”

You nod as you follow him slowly to your door, tucking your cardigan around you and crossing your arms tightly across your chest. You ache. Somewhere deep inside your chest twists, and your throat starts to tighten. You’re not exactly sure what you’re thinking when you call out to him before he can reach for the door, and you’re left with nothing to say when he pauses and turns to you.

There’s nothing to say. He doesn’t bother filling the silence. You stand there, eyes roaming his face in an effort to picture him as he was back then, when he was Alex. He lets you. There’s something there, something hanging in the stillness surrounding you both because you can feel it start to tug and twist at your insides.

Finality.

This is goodbye—a proper one.

It’s not Marcus you want to say goodbye to.

Slowly, deliberately, you step into him and he doesn’t move a muscle. He stills under the hand you steady yourself with on his arm, breath all but hardening in his lungs when your face nears his own.

Your lips press ever so softly to his cheek, only mere millimetres from the corner of his lips, and the shaky little exhale he lets out confirms it all for you.

Jane was right, but you have no idea just how much. He was in deeper than you could have possibly ever imagined. Everything was still there, simmering right under the surface and threatening to be his entire undoing. He doesn’t speak, can’t speak, for fear of saying the wrong thing and fucking this last little moment up.

He relishes in it, in the one final tender touch of your lips that sends his pulse to a heavy hammer beneath his skin. It kills him, destroys him, but he takes it willingly with an open heart. The final punishment to close the last chapter of your story.

His eyes are closed when you pull away, but they soon flutter open to meet yours, and they swim with all the apologies and guilt he doesn’t let himself say anymore. You’re thankful for it, you don’t want to hear it. Not now. Your lips tingle, and a warmth spreads along the skin of your cheeks.

“Bye Scribbles,” he rumbles finally, and you swear there’s a slight shine of tears in his eyes.

They mirror the ones suddenly building in yours.

Goodbye Alex.

“Goodbye Marcus,” you return softly, and then he’s gone.

—

He wants to tell you to run.

The words sit on his tongue: a beg for forgiveness, a plea to just get on the first plane out of the fucking country and disappear, and he damn near draws blood to stop himself.

Though he tidied up as much as he could, ensured there were appropriate plea deals in place and a chance for you to get out of this better than the others if you cooperated, he still dreaded the next few days.

You have no idea.

No idea that your world’s essentially going to shatter and come down around you, and it’s all his fault.

Your kisses feel like a punishment. Each one threatens to cut through his restraint, and when you whisper those three sweet words in his ear he wants to vomit.

He wants to tell you everything. He wants to explain that this fake persona you had given yourself to so fully was still him—it was all him, just under a different name.

He doesn’t.

He lets the guilt eat away at him, lets the heartache practically tear him apart from the inside out until he feels raw. There’d be no salvaging this. There’d be no walking away from this with you still on his side, and rightly so. This will fucking break you, and he’ll carry that for the rest of his life.

He sits up long after you fall asleep, studying each dip and curve of your face and committing it all to memory. He traces over your skin, attempts to smile when you sleepily wake from his touch and hides the presence of his tears by scooping you into his arms for the last time.

—

It’s surprisingly easy to return to life as it was before he knocked on your door. A weight had been lifted free from your shoulders, a promise of new beginnings born from finally gaining closure. Was it what you expected? No, but it was no less welcome.

You managed to get your old job back at the diner, and spent days sketching aimlessly in the park.

It was normal, until it suddenly wasn’t.

The door’s pried open when you return from a late night shift, the obvious signs of a forced entry with the wooden edges of the door chipped and the frame split from pressure. Your hand shakes as you push it open, stomach turning as it gives way to the utter chaos that is your little apartment. Your home.

Your things are everywhere, drawers are opened and the contents spilled out onto the floor, furniture upturned and tossed carelessly to the side. Someone had been looking for something, but you know you have nothing of worth. Not anymore. They wouldn’t have walked away with anything of significance but still, there’s a bitter sting of loss, of intrusion that seems to rattle you to the core.

Heart beating heavily in your throat, you carefully step over the mess and further into your small apartment, and beyond the thunder of your pulse you hear nothing else out of the ordinary. Whoever had been here was long gone, leaving nothing but destruction and questions in their wake. Who the hell did this?

He’s the first and only person that comes to the forefront of your mind, and when you shakily reach for your phone and find his name still saved in your small list of contacts, he answers after the second ring despite it being so late. You almost feel guilty for bothering him, but something about the way he seems so immediately concerned placates any doubt.

“Hi, I—I’m sorry, I don’t… someone broke into my apartment—”

There’s a sudden flurry of movement on his end that crackles down the phone.

“Get out of there,” Marcus demands, before you can even finish working out the right words to say.

He doesn’t tell you to call the cops, he doesn’t tell you it’s not his problem and that you’re on your own now. You feel a slight wave of relief, but facing the disaster of your apartment has a wave of vulnerability hitting you and your eyes start to burn.

“There’s no one here,” you mumble around the sudden dryness of your throat, “they’re gone. Can you—”

“I’m on my way. Listen to me, I need you out of there, do you understand? Do not touch anything, leave everything as it is.”

You nod, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see it, and step back out into the quiet corridor of your floor.

There’s no one around.

Your skin prickles with worry, your nerves working into overdrive to stay vigilant. Every quiet shuffle and bump beyond the walls of neighbouring apartments rattles your senses, and the hand holding your phone starts to shake. He must sense your panic, hear the way your breathing starts to pick up as your chest starts to tighten.

“It’s okay, I’m coming. Stay on the phone with me.”

“Okay,” you exhale as a tear tracks down your cheek, leaving a cool trail in its wake.

Maybe this is an overreaction. Maybe it’s just some random burglary, someone out to get a quick bit of cash for whatever they need, or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s not all over as you had hoped. Has someone found you? Do they know who you are? Do they know what you did?

You feel sick.

Your voice catches in your throat, “Marcus—”

“I know. I’m coming.”

#run to you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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russellbee · 11 hours ago

Text

I MIGHT SAY SOMETHING STUPID (MV1)

max verstappen x driver!reader (team & gender are ambiguous) summary. you've never been good at talking to people. you can never form the right words, hold eye contact, or in worst cases, think before you speak. so truthfully, you're not really surprised when you end up confusing max with your spontaneous confession. unbeknownst to both of you, lando brings you back together. (writing, texts, + a bit of smau) (3.3k) warnings. for self-hate & mentions of hate comments, mentions of anxiety(!!!), everyone is confused and oblivious (except lando!), george and max rivalry is very present, mentions of alcohol & intoxication, use of y/n, reader has parents (and is close-ish with them), sorry if your name is spencer (the name is used for a friend), george doesn't have a gf(!!!), mentions of sex (but it’s really nothing), and cursing. andi's note!! inspired by my beautiful adhd brain 😍😍 (and my max obsession, ofc!) the title is from 'i might say something stupid' by charli xcx but the song doesn't have anything to do with the fic!

nav+masterlist

You've seen multiple media outlets say that your mouth is disconnected from your brain with the amount of (accidental) out of pocket things you've said. Your first post-race interview in F1 ended with you severely embarrassed because you tried to make a joke but the way you worded it made it sound rude. You had backtracked as soon as you realized how it came off (honestly, it took too long) but you still had the comments you'd seen online stuck in your head.

Every season in F1 you get increasingly more nervous to talk in interviews or to the other drivers; the comments and articles gnawing at your self esteem. But with Max it's always been different. He can laugh off an unintentional brash remark or just raise an eyebrow and in a snap you'll realize what went wrong. So, because of how easy it is to talk to Max you've become close.

You're in Abu Dhabi, the season's ended and George Russell is getting on your nerves. He's in your sight, talking to Lando and Alex; laughing. You don't dislike George, he's always been nice to you but your love for Max trumps your like for George. Love?

You're just a little tipsy. It's fine.

As long as George doesn't go near you maybe you won't open your mouth. It's always hard to stop talking the second you get alcohol in your system; not a single word is filtered, it all just comes out.

Someone is staring at you, it better not be George because he knows what you'd do for—

"Are you alright?" Max sits down next to you, gin & tonic in hand. He's so— warm. His thigh is pressed against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his jeans. (It's not really warm enough for shorts but you couldn't remember the weather from last year, so you're stuck in a pair of shorts you brought to Qatar.)

"Huh?" What he said comes back to you and you stammer, "Oh, sorry. I'm fine just thinking. I guess."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah, y'know." You really are thinking; thinking about how good his cologne smells and wondering if it clings to him night and day. Does he always smell this great? How have you never noticed this?

"What are you thinking— Do you ever feel like, really obsessed with someone? Like you see them and you want them. Bad." You cut through his question with your own (stupid) question. Neither of you are looking at each other. You're too focused on not looking at him, actually. Why do you always do this? Did you never learn how to talk to people?

You're so busy panicking that you don't notice your eyes are still on George, and Max has noticed; his lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Had he been reading things wrong?

You're waiting at your gate when you get the text. You feel your phone buzz against your thigh and you hope, and hope that it's Max. You're terrified to message him first, worried he heard the meaning of your question and didn't want to acknowledge it. He hadn't said anything last night. Maybe he's finally sick of you. Can't even let him speak, or think before you talk with a single drop of alcohol in your body. You squeeze your eyes tight and will your brain to stop talking. Then, after a deep breath you open Whatsapp and see it's from Alex.

alex albon

did you tell max to apologise to george?

You blink. What? Never in your life would you think Max would apologize to George. You wouldn't tell him to either. What had gotten into him? Who would be able to change his mind like that?

alex albon

y/nnn

you have read receipts on ik you saw this

You sigh, trying to slow down your brain so you can make your thoughts coherent for Alex.

you

sorry i was thinking

didn't tell him to do that

idk why he would, it's not like him

alex albon

alright thanks 👍

i think we're all confused rn haha

Your boarding group is called and you feel a little bit of annoyance bubble in you. This is gonna be stuck in your mind for the entire flight.

the best rookies

lando

i think y/n likes george

or that's what max thinks at least

alex

and how did you come to this conclusion?

george

That makes no sense

Y/n and I don't talk that often

lando

i saw them together b4 y/n left

they were staring at us

prob george tho

considering everything

george

Many people stare at us, Lando

lando

you don't getttt it

max looked like

mad but confused?? he was very focused on you

and y/n looked like they wanted the earth to swallow them

v embarrassed yknow

alex

y/n probably just said smth wrong

can't really see them liking george

george

If anything, Y/n likes Max

lando

max doesn't care when they do that tho

ik y/n likes max thats like super obvious

ugh u guys dont get it at all 😒

You had practiced your speech for the awards, had repeated it over and over in your head. P3 in the championship, a first for you. Then you made a fool of yourself, stumbled over your words. People had laughed a bit, but in the back of your mind you acknowledge it had nothing to do with the jokes you attempted. At least you didn't have to take any more photos.

Lando finds you as you're about to leave, wiping the tears off of your cheeks and steadying your breathing. "You weren't that bad you know?" Lando teases and you let out a breathy laugh. "Fuck off." He laughs and you both start to leave the venue.

You make meaningless small talk. Lando is going to ski with friends and you'll be visiting a childhood friend, Spencer, in London. You're both anticipating a better season. The valets go to retrieve your cars, and you're both left standing on the sidewalk. It's a little humid, but not enough to make you want to blast the AC.

"Did you see George's post on Insta?" Lando asks after the silence has settled. Your face scrunches up, "Sorry?" You would've been fine to stay quiet until one of your cars arrived and you'd say goodbye. Lando had other plans, apparently.

"His post saying goodbye to Lewis. The last picture was nice, wasn't it?" You feel like there's something Lando's searching for but you can't put the pieces together. "I don't follow George on Insta. I— It's not like I don't like him, it's just. We're not really close?" Lando raises a brow, and it's not like when Max does it. It's something else, and you don't understand. You want to ask why, what he's thinking, but the valet parks your car in front of the sidewalk before you can.

Lando moves forward when the valet gets out, holding the driver's side door open for you. What is going on? You look at Lando, questions floating in your head and then hesitantly get into your car. "Have a nice off-season." Lando's grin is triumphant. Not like when he's at the top of a podium, something different and unfamiliar, yet kind.

"Yeah, thanks." Maybe you just don't know him well enough.

Lando double checks everything. He looks through his and George's mutuals and looks through the likes on George's end-of-season posts. He's never been more determined to prove Alex and George wrong. (And getting you and Max together, of course!)

Oscar looks at him weird 'cause he's grinning at his phone, then teases him, asks him if he's got a girlfriend. Lando laughs it off, because how is he supposed to say that he's investigating into some grid drama? That he's trying to understand what happened after Abu Dhabi, with you and Max? George has been ruled out as a player in this game, none of you are that close.

In London, you facetime your parents. They show you everything in their little villa that you rented out for them, the sandy beaches and the bright ocean. They tell you that they miss you and you repeat the sentiment. A part of you misses Max more, and you try to push that down.

Spencer orders pizza, and you both relax on the couch as you wait for it to arrive. They make a noise, a bit contemplative but unsurprised, and you look up from your own phone. Spencer's looking at you with a wolfish grin. "Oh, no."

"Have you seen this?" Their voice is teasing as they hand you their phone. It's opened to a post on the F1 Instagram account, the caption reads: Celebrating Max's 4th WDC with pictures of the best friendship on the grid 🏆. You gape slightly at the first picture; it's of you and Max in Zandvoort '23 on the podium. You both have bright smiles, your focus is on drenching Max with your champagne. He's laughing, accepting the spray. You don't bother to look at the rest, a sick feeling building in your stomach that you've begun to associate with Max. You know what it means, but you can't acknowledge it now. You haven't talked in over 2 weeks.

The pizza arrives and Spencer makes you pay. You can't get yourself to eat a lot, too stuck in your mind to acknowledge your hunger. When you lay in bed later that night, you feel sick. You know it's not the food, you know what it is. In the back of your mind you wonder if you'll ever be able to accept your feelings or if you'll just have to get over it.

lando norris has made a groupchat

monaco dinner 😁😁 (alex albon, george russell, max 🏆, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, you)

lando norris

alright everyone. need to know when you're all returning to monaco

"You're up to something," Oscar says from beside Lando. Lando raises a brow, a teasing grin on his lips. "Whatever do you mean, Osc?" His teammate rolls his eyes before scanning the table, landing at the empty seat next to George. Everyone is here, except you. Lando pretended he got a text from you saying that you'd be late, when in reality that's not the case. He told you the reservation was for twenty minutes later than he told everyone else. His plan needed to work and he didn't want you arriving earlier than intended.

"Y/n, someone who is always scared of coming late they come fifteen minutes early, isn't here. I'm assuming you have nothing to do with this?" Lando's grin grows wider. "Mate."

"Just wait."

You arrive at the restaurant 5 minutes early, since you had to walk and that led you to being noticed by some fans. When you go up to reception and say who you'll be sitting with, the host raises a brow before directing you to a table in the far back of the restaurant. Everyone is already there, drinks on the table. Worried, you look at your watch to see it isn't even the time Lando sent. You're early.

The only seat open is at the end of the table, to the right of George. It's also right across from Max. He looks surprised to see you, putting away his phone as you sit down. George says hi and asks you how your break has been so far. You make pleasant, friendly conversation with him. When Charles asks you a question you turn your attention to him, and notice that Max's mood has visibly soured. He must notice you looking, because he inserts himself into Alex and Carlos' conversation. You bite your cheek, trying not to seem annoyed or disappointed. You still haven't talked, and it's been seven weeks. He's liked your posts; the one from your trip to London, a set of gym photos your team took, and your photos from your other trip. No comments, just likes.

He doesn't talk to you for the rest of the dinner, instead he watches you make conversation with your other drivers. You stumble over your words, make mistakes and try to laugh it off. It's nice to talk to them, it just requires more energy. With Max, you don't have to worry about your never-ending rambling or your stories that tend to not make sense. It's easy. You miss it.

Dinner ends, you all split the check and go your separate ways. After getting your card back you head to the bathroom, just standing in silence for a few seconds. You need a break, especially if you run into some fans on your way home. The more you talk and force your brain to try, the more exhausted you get. The easier it is to snap or say something completely wrong. No one deserves to be on the receiving end of that.

You scrub your hands over your face, trying to wake yourself up. In your pocket your phone buzzes once. Then twice.

max 🏆

Are you still here?

I didn't see you leave.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you make yourself type slowly. Your hands are shaking. You need to get a grip.

you

yeah, haven't left yet

you're still here then?

max 🏆

Yep. Meet you at the entrance?

you

sure

As you leave the bathroom your brain has fired up again, what the fuck, repeating in your head consistently. Because, what the fuck? Why has Max all of a sudden decided to talk to you? What changed his mind?

He's standing in the waiting area, his plain white t-shirt covered by a jacket you recognize from the Alphatauri website. The corner of your lip twitches, as you fight back a smile. He's so predictable.

"Hey." His voice is quiet, like he was scared that you were lying. Like you'd hide in the bathroom till he left. Even though you're mad at him, you can't see yourself doing that, ever.

"Hi. Um, nice break so far? We haven't talked a lot," You let out an awkward laugh, cringing internally. Why did you bring that up? And in the first sentence too?

"I'm sorry about that, I've been busy," Max's smile is weak and your heart deflates a bit because you know when he's lying. He doesn't do it often, so it's easy to tell. "I meant to text you, really." But that isn't a lie. Huh. You stare at him for a second trying to make sense of what's going on.

"Did you drive here?"

"No, didn't have time to get gas. I mean— I did, I just forgot because I've been doing other stuff." Max smiles and everything feels almost normal again. The seven weeks of silence still looms over the conversation, like it's preparing to end your friendship forever. "I'll drive you. You didn't move, right?" He has a smile on his face, the one when he's trying to be funny. You feel that sick feeling building, and your skin warms.

"No, I should though. Apparently my neighbor almost set the complex on fire, and the one across from me she— she did something weird, I can't remember. But I know it caused a meeting for the building about some policy and everyone was really mad at her," You ramble, voice picking up as you get that giddy feeling, when you know you're really being listened to. Max leads you to his car and you get into the passenger seat. On the drive to your building, you finally remember the reason why your neighbor got in trouble.

"She got in trouble because she had sex on her balcony or something, and then someone saw and reported it. Holy shit, I can't believe I forgot that!" You laugh, face scrunching with your smile.

"Your neighbor?"

"Yes!" It feels really good to talk to Max again, to feel a true connection when you talk to him.

lando norris

hey mate

how's y/n?

max

Good?

Do you not have her number?

lando norris

no haha sorry

thought you guys were dating

things seemed off just wanted to make sure

max

Right.

We're fine

lando norris

but not dating? (max has reacted with 👍)

Everything has been good with Max. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders now that you can talk to him again. You flew with him to Bahrain and now Australia. Media day is tomorrow, and Lando has texted you asking if you want to go explore, like neither of you have ever been to Melbourne. You say yes, anyway.

You're in the elevator going down to the lobby, when it stops at another floor. George is standing on the other side of the doors, and he smiles at you as he walks in. "Hanging out with Max?" He asks as the doors slide shut.

"No, Lando invited me out. He said he wanted to explore, which I don't really understand because he's been to Melbourne multiple times. Also, Oscar's his teammate so, I don't—," You stop yourself. "It'll probably be fun though, it's Lando."

"Lando invited you out?"

"Uh— Yeah? Why?"

"He invited me out as well, that's all." Oh.

Is he trying to set you and George up? The thought hits you like a truck and your nose scrunches up involuntarily. First, the questions about his Instagram and then making you sit next to him at dinner. You feel warm, anger building inside you. Is Lando oblivious?

↳ user since when are they friends????

↳ user you left out the part that lando was with them 💀

You and George walk back together, an awkward silence hanging over you. It was a fun day. You took pictures, ate good food. You had fun. It was just awkward because it seemed both you and George knew what Lando was trying to do.

You're waiting for the elevator when George turns toward you. You shift your eyes toward him, trying to make sense about what he's about to do. "Do you like me?"

Your eyes widen and for a moment all you can do is stare at George. "No, I— I don't know where Lando got the idea that I like you, but I don't." You're trying to be nice in case George does actually like you, but he lets out a breath of relief.

"I'm really sorry, Lando is..."

"He's Lando, I know." The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You both walk in and George hits the button for your floors. "You do like Max though, right?" Once again you find yourself speechless. George laughs, cheeks turning red.

"Sorry, it's— It's really obvious, I don't know how Lando missed it." You're burning with embarrassment when you look away from George and mutter, "It's not that obvious." He cracks up, and you feel yourself growing warmer.

Thankfully for you, George gets off soon enough and it's just you. When you step off the elevator, you notice someone leaning against the wall by your door, scrolling on their phone. They look up when you come to a stop. It's Max, in another plain t-shirt and skinny jeans. You may hate the skinny jeans but they really show off his thighs, so it's not that bad. "Hi."

Max walks over to you, stopping so there's only a few inches between you. You can smell his cologne, see how blue his eyes are, and how his hair is a little out of place. He opens his mouth to speak but you speak before he can. "You look good, I mean—," You cut yourself off to prevent the inevitable ramble about how good he looks; your friends have heard it numerous times. Max blinks, the beginning of a smile on his face before he leans in and kisses you.

You make a little noise in surprise before you reciprocate, you reach for him blindly, grabbing onto his shoulder. It's easy kissing Max. You've been waiting for this, the soft press of his lips against yours, the heat of his hand against your face. The same sick feeling rests in your stomach, and you feel it; the way your heart speeds up when he's near and the hot flush that builds on your skin when he touches you. You never want it to end.

yourusername close friends story

[caption: @.maxverstappen1 🤍]

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lando OMG DID IT FINALLY HAPPEN??

yourusername yes...? lando oh thank god my plan worked i was so close to locking you two in a closet yourusername HUH????

#russellbee; writing #russellbee; mv1 #russellbee; driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x driver!reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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sunflowersandsapphires · 7 hours ago

Text

Comfort Headcanons for Frank, Matt, and Mikey

A/n: so I am ridiculously overwhelmed by personal and political stuff right now. And I told myself I was going to write every day this week if possible, but my brain was being difficult today. So instead of working on a longer fic I wrote some self-indulgent headcanons about Frank, Matt, and Mikey caring for an overwhelmed partner. I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to send me other headcanon requests!

How would they’d react to you being overwhelmed

Frank

Frank would pick up on this IMMEDIATELY

the second your self care habits change, he’s onto you. You stay up later than normal two nights in a row, or run out the door with a granola bar instead of eating a real breakfast, and he is concerned™️

He’s willing to entertain it for three days max. He knows life gets tough sometimes, and he doesn’t want to encroach on your process—but we all know that once this man is worried, he’s minutes away from taking control. He has issues but we love him for it.

On the 4th day, when you’re waking up exhausted after far too little sleep and rejecting his offer to take you out for breakfast, he puts his foot down.

“Gonna order in for dinner tonight, ok? We can watch that movie you wanted to see and turn in early.”

You hastily agree, bolting out the door before you end up late to your job.

When you finally arrive home, he’s all over you in an instant. Murmuring his hellos while helping you out of your coat and shoes, ushering you over the couch.

He’s insisting that you sit in his lap while the two of you pick out dinner, offering suggestions for restaurants instead of leaving the choice open-ended. Given how tired and generally stressed you seem, he wants to take as much weight off your shoulders as possible.

Once dinner has been ordered, he tucks you close to his chest, practically burying you in a jumble of muscular limbs, humming appreciatively when you nuzzle further into his space. His hand is cupped around your nape, thumb gently brushing over your spine as you hunch toward him.

“Ready to talk about what’s botherin’ ya, doll?” The question leaves room to decline, but his stern tone suggests you choose to answer.

He listens carefully as you tell him what’s on your mind, brushing silent kisses against your forehead whenever your breath wavers around a stifled sob. His hands never move from your skin, cradling you to him like he’s trying to absorb your pain.

He wouldn’t let you lift a finger the rest of the night. Retrieving the take out, dishing it up for you, drawing you a bath, tucking you into bed

When you’re beginning to drift off atop his giant shoulder, he’d rest his forehead against yours.

“I know it’s tough right now. But we’ll get through. I promise.”

“Please don’t leave, Frank.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll.”

Matt

Matt isn’t as observant of your habits and routines, but he can sure as hell pick up changes in body language.

Gritting teeth, blinking back tears, frustrated sighs—he notices all of it. He might not act on it immediately, brushing it off when you explain that you just had a bad day, but when your fatigue and growing apathy persist…

I think you hiding something from him would spook him for sure, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be determined to get answers out of you. He’d set his personal anxieties aside and prepare for a serious talk.

He’d leave the office somewhat early, asking you to meet him at his apartment. He’d offer you a beer, or whatever you were in the mood for (if his lacking fridge and pantry allowed for it), and he’d ask you the big question.

“You aren’t yourself lately. What’s going on?”

He’s not happy when you start crying, but he’s definitely relieved when you collapse into his arms and explain your recent mood. Even more so when you confess it had nothing to do with him.

As always, he harbors immense guilt for not being there, not being endlessly supportive, not being able to solve the issues gnawing at you with his own two fists.

But what he doesn’t realize is that he’s helping just by being there. By being present and absentmindedly squeezing you with his tree-trunk arms. By acknowledging your struggles and offering what he could.

He’d cut his patrols short for a few days, nearly begging you to sleep at his loft instead of in your own bed, so he could keep a metaphorical eye on you. He sleeps better with you by his side anyway.

Mikey

You’re Michael’s whole world, so he’d know you were overwhelmed before you realized it yourself.

As soon as he spotted the stress lines on your face, he’d be on his feet, trying his best to lighten the burden.

He’d walk you to and from work, as always, maybe even stopping by to keep you company on your lunch hour.

When he wasn’t with you, or ignoring his family, he’d be constantly cleaning the house and working through your joint to do list, taking task after task off your plate so you could properly decompress.

He wouldn’t pressure you to talk to him about it, but he’d give you the option.

“I’m here if ya want to talk, pet. Anytime ya need.”

And, of course, you’d take him up on it. Explaining that you could handle everything and you didn’t want him to overwhelm himself trying to help you because it was just a pile of small things that were wearing you down. But he’d have none of it.

“I wanna do this fer ya. Let me help, love.”

He’d bundle you in a knit blanket on the couch and set the tv to your favorite show, kissing the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to clean up after dinner.

I hope you enjoyed! And I hope you’re all doing ok this week. It’s rough out there.

#matt murdock #daredevil #frank castle #matt murdock x reader #my writing #charlie cox #marvel #michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #frank castle x reader #headcanons

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zolo-san · 1 day ago

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So I started thinking about Skypiea/Post-Skypiea Zosan last night...

and thinking about how there's no way that Sanji had an easy recovery with the full body burns he ended up with and I could see Zoro going out of his way to help Sanji out because Zoro has been there He's been seriously hurt and had to take care of himself and while Sanji has chopper, I think that Sanji would be similar to Zoro (If not worse because Sanji has a worse self image than Zoro) in that he would be afraid of worrying Chopper or being a burden and would try to do a lot on his own or act as if it wasn't that bad But Zoro would clock that shit immediately because he does it too And I think Zoro would also be able to tell when someone is moving differently because of pain or an injury But I think some of the things Zoro would do to help Sanji would be small like grabbing something for him so he doesn't have to move too much and hurt himself or making sure he doesn't spend too much time out in the sun and get dehydrated or over heated I think he'd try to get him to sit tf down more too which would be hard since Sanji is such a care taker and gets joy out of doing things for Nami and Robin (I think Robin would be more insistent that he doesn't do this during this time tho because she's suspicious that he's not totally healed/hiding the pain while Nami may not pick up on it right away, very much to Zoro's irritation) But I think he would also try to help Sanji in bigger, more meaningful ways too, like going out of his way to ask Chopper to each him how to change Sanji's bandages because he knows Sanji hasn't been going to Chopper when he needs too and he knows how hard it is to do something like change your own bandages, especially when in pain, because he's done it himself in the past and I think he'd know that it's something really vulnerable, so he'd be very gentle about it and not push too hard, but still insist that Sanji let him help And I think Sanji would be seriously blown away by how caring and gentle Zoro is being towards him He'd notice all the things he's doing and be really touched It's not like Zoro wasn't helpful on occasion in the past or never showed any care for when Sanji was hurt before, but I think that this being one of the first time Sanji got seriously injured and the fact that it happened because Sanji was trying to protect others would make a big difference to Zoro I think Zoro would know that Sanji really needed the help and would want to show how much Sanji and his actions meant to him

In my own little Zosan timeline, Skypiea is when Sanji sort of has to come to terms with/admit to himself that he has feelings for Zoro, but I think that he would assume that there was no way Zoro would feel the same way about him because how could he? but I think something like this would be a sort of "Oh...." moment where Sanji realizes that Zoro really cares about him but I also think it would make him really confused and conflicted (in my timeline at this point Zoro almost completely assumes that Sanji is straight and has come to a point of fully accepting that he and Sanji will never be together and he's okay with that, as long as Sanji is happy and he's still allowed to be a part of his life) Anyways.... just some Skypiea stuff I kept thinking about last night~ It'll probably make it into a fic one of these days if the universe would just give me some time to write o(-< I have a full scene in my head and I want to write it very badly, but the whole fic isn't fully cooked yet~

Also thanks to this post for getting my brain thinking about Skypiea Zosan and leading me here lol

#Thank you for coming to my TED talk #I was originally going to just ramble on a post in the Zosan Community but I wanted this to exist on my blog so now I shall be #a menace to society rather than just a menace to the community #Zosan #Roronoa Zoro #Pirate Hunter Zoro #Black Leg Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #<I'm never not gonna hate legal naming him for tagging purposes #Zoro #Sanji #Sophia talks too much #hc

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4me2knowandyou2wonder · 3 days ago

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Just some MelVik "early days dynamic" brain worms. I had fun writing a scene. no real shipping here actully, just the good ol mel and viktor dynamics we should have gotten 800~ words, writen at like 2am, not reread at all before posting.

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Viktor’s left leg has fallen asleep. For a while now he had been aware of the slow tingling crawling down his nerves, but he’d finally gotten into a position that let his right leg stop throbbing and found he was unwilling to keep looking for a way to sit that appeased both limbs. It is for this reason that when the lab door loudly swings open Viktor makes no attempt to rise. There is no doubt in his mind that that could only end with him on the floor. He does not know who entered the laboratory, certainly not Jayce—he had left an hour ago, but no matter how open he was to the intruder being a stranger, he was still unprepared for councilor Medarda herself, to sit down on top of his notes.

“As concentrated on progress as ever I see,” she lulled, dragging the page he’d been staring at from his fingers.

Once over his initial shock, Viktor snatched the paper back with force and glared at the councilor with flames in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

The counselor at least had the wherewithal to look a little embarrassed after that. “Well, honestly, I am here seeking counsel.”

“Jayce left two hours ago.”

“I know. I came for you.”

Viktor could keep the indignation from his voice. “Me?”

Councilor Medarda finally removed her butt from Viktor’s desk in favor of pacing about the room. Viktor reluctantly unfolded himself to watch her movements. His legs had very differing opinions about this action.

“I’m trying to undo an outdated law, but the council is not in my favor.” Viktor wanted to interject with a comment about that but the councilor offered no pause. “For years doctors who are licensed in Piltover have been barred from practicing medicine in the undercity.”

He was well aware. Viktor focused on her with more interest. Why would she care about doctors being allowed in Zaun?

“I thought it was an obvious law to over turn.” Her pacing had gotten faster now. “Why are we controlling the movements of our citizens? Wanting to help others across the bridge doesn’t make anyone less capable of medicine! Its—”

“It is because they want the resource for themself,” Viktor interrupted, “and, well, they do not want their doctors to be put in danger.”

The councilor’s pacing stopped. “You agree with them!”

Viktor frowned. He wasn’t sure how much he was willing to say. He said it anyway. “Miss Medarda, I have watched friends and family alike die from preventable diseases. Die, just because the available doctors are too scared to work with them. If you are from Zaun, it does not matter if you make it all the way to Piltover. It does not matter if you have the money. This very law scares doctors enough that they will turn me away.” Even while curled over in a rickety wooden chair, his gaze was enough to level her. “Of course I do not agree with the council.”

“Viktor—”

He let out a sigh and leaded back in his chair. “I simply… understand their flawed minds.”

“I want to change it.”

“A noble thought.” He didn’t try to hide his skepticism.

The councilor is suddenly much closer to him. “I was a single vote away from reversing it.” There is a conviction in her voice that intrigues Viktor. “Hoskel is malleable. But he’s scared of change.”

She pauses long enough Viktor thinks she might be waiting for him to speak. “I-”

“Can you hide a calming agent in a kid’s fidget puzzle?”

There is fire in her eyes. A rueful smile plays over Viktor’s face. “Miss Medarda…” he drawls. “Are you here to ask me to help you drug your fellow counselor, so that you can pass a law?”

The councilor doesn’t recoil. She doesn’t even blink. Unwavering determination. Viktor is faced with a choice. He doesn't like the thought of being used, but a reversal of this jurisdiction could mean everything for hundreds of Zaunite citizens. One trinket is all it would take for him and the counselor to change the dynamics of the whole population.

Viktor wins the staring contest. Councilor Medarda sighs and lets her shoulders fall. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Goodnight, Viktor.”

“Goodnight, Councilor.”

He lets her touch the brass handle before calling out. “Are you not going to tell me when the next council meeting is?”

Councilor Madarda’s head whips around. She is met with the widest, most cunning grin she’s ever seen on Viktor. Her next few breaths come out a bit like she might be laughing, but Viktor cannot be sure.

“It’s- It's tomorrow evening.”

Viktor pushes his bottom lip up and nods his knocks to the side. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

He picks up his pencil from the desk and turns away. He does not look up again until a closed door muffles the councilor’s footsteps. Perhaps Viktor should play Powerful more often, he concedes, that was fun.

#melvik #jaymelvik #arcane #viktor arcane #mel medarda #meljayvik #jayvikmel #arcane wip #no on screen jayvik but viktor is also weary of mel because of her interactions with jayce??? so maybe

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cautionwetspiralstaircase · 2 days ago

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pili dtowncat i love you so much (clip: pili ranting about his one-sided rivalry with clown yesterday)

(source: BadBoyHalo 19/20 Jan 2025 New Realm SMP [Day 46] WE GOT A LIFE BACK, around 4h8min)

Pili: Why... do you wanna have an archnemesis. But what happens when that person you think is your archnemesis, and you slowly start to figure out that maybe that person doesn’t see you as your archnemesis? Actually, maybe that person doesn’t even care about you. Maybe that person this entire time didn’t even see you as close as an opponent? Not even an enemy, neither an archnemesis. Like it- do you understand what I’m saying here? I’ve just been like- this entire like past days I’ve just been like thinking and thinking, I’m like “surely not. surely not. surely not.” Like every single day is just- that thought is deep inside my brain. In the back of my brain I just genuinely start to think that this whole thing was one sided. I genuinely thought that I had found someone that would be like, oh, this would be like a really cool thing to have with this person. Cause yknow, he is super strong, and he is super cool, and he has all these cool things and I guess, I don’t know, cool style, everything... And then I can fight him, and then I can kill him, and it’ll be awesome when I kill him, and then everyone will be like- But how can I achieve that if the other person doesn’t really care about me? Like I genuinely think that the other person doesn’t even see me as a threat! Cause if they were- if they actually saw me as a threat, they would be like here and probably like grinding their levels up, trying to see if they can like, survive. Like the other day, I spent like an entire week just brewing potions, brewing alchemy, just getting my things strong- but no! But no! I was so dumb, I was so dumb to make one mistake with leaving my axe behind, and now he probably thinks- that I’m not that cool! Maybe for one second he thought he could have some sort of archnemesis situation with me, but maybe he was just so disappointed to see that I was just as weak as everyone else. And that’s what I think.

#the realm smp #dtowncat

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pickyourpoisonandevolve · 11 hours ago

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Boyfriends to Have Boyfriends Headcanons, pt 4

I cannot stress enough how these are FLYING from my brain into a post. A brief thanks to everyone who’s said something sweet about this so far, I deeply appreciate you and your interest in what has to be my mental illness at this point.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

—-

It’s maybe one of the few times in your life you wished you were deployed. Leave is a siren song for fools, you thought. No one was meant to have this much time sitting in their dumb flat thinking about how they were fucking their Captain AND fellow sergeant. You were going to get discharged for sure. Dishonorable with a capital D. They were going to be mad at you for fucking your way through the team. Johnny would literally explode. But Price said that he KNEW—

A buzz. A text. Thinking too loud yet again.

Gaz: You doing anything today? Running errands near your part of town. Wanna come with?

In for a penny, right?

—-

You let him talk you into a wash day. A small luxury you two were able to afford yourselves as the two BIPOC members of the team. He even managed to talk you into going back to his (stupid face he makes where he tilts his head and smiles at you, can barely look at it, the bastard) Now you were sitting at his beautiful kitchen table, watching awful tv on low, with him on the floor between your legs as you rubbed scalp oil into his. You’d buy a timeshare in the 8th circle of hell if he sold it to you at this point.

“Call it nostalgia, I guess. My sisters used to do this for me back in the day. I miss it.”

“Those helmets aren’t doing any favors for anyone. Have you seen John and Simon’s crown lately? And how they both insist—��

“It isn’t thinning?” You both say in unison, laughter tearing through you both. His hand sneaks around to caress your calf, while your nails lightly scratch his scalp as you catch your respective breath.

“Hey. I, uh, wanted to—“

“Up, it’s your turn.”

“Wait, I wan—

Gaz pops up and takes you gently in his hands, leading you to the ground as he sits in the chair, hands already oiled and ready. You sat in a huff. He couldn’t say he regretted seeing you pout. The unease and frustration already settled in your stomach now had a new player enter the fold: Gaz’s fingers gently massaging your scalp. A short but hard fought battle internally, he felt your pulse slow, your body relax between his legs. That makes one of us, he thought passively.

“I know we didn’t make this easy for you. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to speak on behalf of John too much, but we’re not the most. Subtle men. You could say.”

You let out a small sound of agreement. “How long, uh. I guess how long has this been happening?”

“Couple years after I joined the force. Around the same time Simon and Johnny started I reckon.”

“Man, I should have been drafted sooner, I’d have a boss all to myself to fuck too—“

You felt his fingers tighten gently, just enough to pull your head back and give you a stern look. You gave him a meek smile as an apology, before he returned to his ministrations.

“As I was saying. We’re a team. Always have been. We could have made it a big deal, or we could continue to be great at what we do, work together. Price was just… everything I needed. Made me who I am today. Let me become the man I needed to be. No judgement.”

You nodded in his hands. You let your eyes close as he talked, letting his fingers lull you into a state. Aware but relaxed. Malleable, he’d call it. Right where he wanted you.

“But then someone had to come along and ruin it all.” He said with a laugh. “John and I share a lot of traits, and being territorial is one of em. You were so fucking sweet, and talented. Talked about you when we were together. And I just wanted to sink my fucking teeth into you.” He said, an edge in his voice now, nails scraping across your scalp a touch.

A new warmth ran through you as you felt hands pick you up from your seated position. Kyle carried you bridal style to the couch, laying you down in front of his windows in his flat overlooking the city. Your hair, big and wild from his hands, fell around your head like a halo. Fucking so perfect for him all the time. “You almost have her, don’t fuck this up.” He said to himself.

“We want you to be ours. No rank, no file. Just us.” He said, leaning over you, thumb running across your cheek.

Keys in the door started to jingle. A swish of bags and boots hit the floor as they come across the entrance and footsteps approach. “Hey love.”

Your heart stopped. You’re sure of it. Your eyes peeked open as the power of the sun was 5 feet from your face. Two of the hottest guys you’ve ever met standing above you as they ask you to be… a part of them. A piece to complete the puzzle. To make them feel a little more complete.

Your eyes become a little less lovedrunk, a little more sober and panic shoots through both of them for a moment. Your eyebrows scrunched, a sign they’ve come to learn means that you were unsure of the outcome. The thunder before the storm of “what if’s” cloud your mind. John reached down to pull you in a seated position, pressing his forehead against yours. “You could put a bullet in my head and I’d thank you for it. You couldn’t fuck this up if you tried.” He pulled back a touch to let Kyle in.

“Let us love you, sweetheart. We’ll spend the rest of our lives making sure you feel like you’re enough, yeah?” Kyle asked.

A small smile graced your lips, as you brought a hand to both their faces. “Yeah. We’re a team.”

#I want my boyfriends to have boyfriends #cod modern warfare #john price x reader #cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #price x gaz #price x gaz x reader

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summers-art · 2 days ago

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need to know ab tomorrow comes today please

🎵Song #33 Tomorrow Comes Today by Gorillaz 🎵[Full playlist]

ABSOLUTELY!! Thanks for asking, Gorillaz and Daft Punk really shaped my childhood with their music (Gorillaz 2001, Demon Days, Discovery, Human After All); that's why I had to include their music 🫶💚

So this is very late in the playlist so let me catch you up to speed on the playlist story:

Okay great, now you're all caught up!

So Metal Overlord came into the picture (Song #30-31) and got his ass beat, naturally (Song #32 The Line) and now we're here in the aftermath of the battle. Things are looking pretty bleak, but still open enough to not be completely hopeless. It's kinda hard to talk about this song without also rambling about the other one's before and after it so I'm gonna do it along with the lyrics since they're pretty short anyway.

LYRICAL BREAK DOWN BELOW 👇

Everybody's here with me Got no camera to see

Very much a reference to #32 The Line's lyric: "Please don't let them see me" which is like ...oops! This is the big boss battle my guy, like in the end of Sonic Hereo's - literally everyone is here to see this shit!! That must be so embarrassing for you 🫤 ooooh well, that's what happens when you have a public mental breakdown I guess. The camera I think could also literally be his screen eyes thing, maybe that got smashed in during the fight. Bc I love pain 💔

Don't think I'm all in this world The camera won't let me go The verdict doesn't love our soul The digital won't let me go

Like the whole playlist has been toying with: strings, wires, entrapment, the machine is inescapable. Metal is a robot so of course the digital won't let him go. It's literally a part of who he is. You cannot change this Puppet boy, I'm sorry baby.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll pay (yeah, yeah)

The defeated attitude!! Makes me so depressed. Metal Overlord lost the big battle and now he's just like yea okay... I give up, you won. I'll pay for everything, the damaged I caused and all that shit. I don't care anymore. This is like his lowest point, so the way this is phrased and sung is just so perfectly sad to me, I love to suffer 💔💔

When tomorrow, tomorrow comes today

☝️HOLD ON! The talk about the future is still like, a CRUMB of there still being hope. You wouldn't talk about a tomorrow if you didn't think there was one- would you? At least, I interpret the line when tomorrow comes today as in: it hasn't happened yet.

Stereo, I want it on It's taken me far too long

LET ME GET META HERE FOR A SECOND- it could have been pretty easy to end the whole playlist here and leave on a very bittersweet/open ended note of Metal Overlord being defeated and then we just don't know what happens from there. But leaving the stereo on? Yea there are literally two songs left here on the list. So leaving the stereo on to play these last two songs changes the vibes of the story and the characters trajectory A LOT ACTUALLY.

The taken me far too long also perfectly reflects the last two songs that are yet to come; Song #34 Too Long (lmao) and then #35 Love Like You, notably the line: "When I see the way you look / Shaken by how long it took". But I shouldn't go too much into that one as I have an ask for that one to break down so I'll go over all those details at a later time teehee 🩷

Don't think I'm all in this world I don't think I'll be here too long I don't think I'll be here too long I don't think I'll be here too long

Oh lord, oh no- the brain fog is hitting him, the disassociation is taking over. That is one of those aspects I've also tried eluding too in previous songs on the list like, especially as a cue for when the murder robot programming has kicked in. Listing examples from the top of my head we have: #11 Kitchen Fork: "Who's that kid who wakes each night / Takes me on these wretched rides?" (I could list every single lyric of that song, please ask me about this song)

#24 Blur "Can't remember what I did last night / Maybe I shouldn't have given in / But I just couldn't fight" #27 Magnum Bullets: "My conscience paralyzed / Against the rising tide / Of haunting memories that drown a wasted life"

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll pay When tomorrow, tomorrow comes today

We have reached the end, I have nothing new to say about the lyrics. But I think the songs flows pretty well into the song after that, Too Long. Like The Line has a drum beat that kinda comes and goes, it is very ethereal sounding more reliant on piano to keep the pulse, then Tomorrow Comes Today has a darker sound and grounded beat that goes throughout the song and then we have Too Long which got an even steadier drum machine and a slow build electric dance song. There is an evolution here... I hope people see/hear it and that I am not making shit up. I want to say my 10 years in Music education gives me some ethos here

I knew I wanted another Daft punk song but it took me too long (HAH) to decide on which one. I almost went with Something About Us and I LOVE that song, it is a perfect song for when you are dying and want to confess your love, or a forbidden love - enemies to lovers sorta stuff or what have you. But that was also when I had Rusty Cage by Soundgarden on the list bc I wanted a hopeful ending about Metal breaking free!! But I wasn't happy with how I could make it flow in the playlist so once that sound was out so was Something About Us and Too Loong sorta replaced them both but for different reasons. That's just how the cookie crumbles sometime. I'm happy with the choice tho, I love that song, idc if it's 10 minutes long it is going on my playlist that is already 2 hours long and you will LIKE IT! I could've ended the playlist at Too Long but I hated that it just faded at the end and didn't have "a real ending" so to speak so that's why Love Like You survived the cut, that song actually makes the transition to the 1st song sound rly good which I do pay attention to because I have this playlist on repeat like a madman.

Okay I think I'm done rambling about this, for now

#anon #ask #Metamy Musical #Metamy #metal sonic #neo metal sonic

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xcruelprincessx · 3 days ago

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I've seen this question so many times and I have posted about it before here, but I want to do it again, cuz it frustrates me when people claim Cardan isn't loyal to Jude just because he's a faerie. If he had other lovers while being with Jude, Holly would have definitely made it very clear. But she not only didn't, but made sure to point out that Locke hooking up around while being with Taryn is considered a very bad thing and Cardan isn't like this.

First of all, everything Cardan wanted during his whole life is love and affection. Not just romantically, but in general. This is what Madoc has to say about him:

The guy would do ANYTHING to be loved. And when he finally has even the tiniest bit of affection from Nicasia, he wasn't going to let it go away. He was faithful to her too and expected the same loyalty from her too, as it's very much obvious by his reaction to her betrayal.

Besides that, it's true that most fae have multiple partners and that's the exact reason most of them never marry. For example Eldred had only consorts and a lot of lovers and flings. He never was married. For the fae marriage is just as monogamous as it is for humans. As we can see with Madoc who was married to Eva and literally murdered her and the man she left him for. After Eva he got married to Oriana and even though it started simply because of Oak's safety, they don't have other lovers.

Something more. Here is a scene Cardan basically called out Locke on being unfaithful to Taryn:

Then in the queen of nothing he states that love never was a game for him. And when Jude mentions that he didn't come to bed last night, he looks at her as he didn't really understand what she was implying or at least thought he was misunderstanding her, because the thought about being with someone else didn't even pass his brain.

It's important to remember what happened right before that moment. The previous day they talked in the gardens and she slapped him, because of the exile and the riddle she couldn't solve. Something about Cardan is that he would never go somewhere he thinks he's unwanted. In HTHKOELTHS it's said that he would often sleep in the stables, because his mother didn't want him in her rooms or in the palace at all. And after that fight they just had, and Jude healings from her wounds, he might have thought that she would be more comfortable if he's not there. Then he even proceeds to ask her if she's sure she wants to spend the night with him at least 10 times before they do the deed

Anyways, about the courtiers around him, that's pretty much just them being asskissers as my mutual said in her post and it's not really his fault. He did have multiple lovers during the cruel prince and the first half of the wicked king, but he was single at that time so he can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants. I believe he stopped after what happens in chapter 15, because he was suddenly stopped being seen with others after that. Jude even multiple times states he's alone in his chambers and his bed is free from couriers and she doesn't know what to think or do with this information. He tried to talk with her about that night and was very disappointed when she said he was out of her system, cuz he probably thought they were getting serious.

At that time he was fully aware he wanted her and what he feels isn't just lust.

He was obviously upset when she commanded him not to be alone the night of Taryn's wedding. He looked offended by her request and mockingly said he will do whatever she commands. However not being alone doesn't necessarily mean sleeping with someone else. That night Jude was kidnapped so he surely didn't have time for intimate actions AND probably wasn't alone cuz his guards, the rest of the court of shadows and Madoc were all there. When she returns from the undersea and sneaks into his room, he's very much alone in there even though she's been missing for months.

In conclusion, Cardan is definitely monogamous when it comes to a romantic relationship. And while fae are known for having multiple partners and love is commonly considered a sport and many of them are exactly like Locke, it doesn't mean they all are like this. They're all different and there are many of them that prefer being with one person (like Cardan, Madoc and Oriana, Oak and Wren, Kaye and Roiben etc)

I just finished Elfhame series and came across your tumblr and your post about "Cardan just wanting love" and your analysis was enjoyable to read.

However, after finishing books 1, 2, and 3, I get the feeling that Cardan isn’t... faithful to Jude. Fae are very poly, and Cardan was/is definitely a thot, and Jude's insecurities over that never go away.

Do you believe Cardan is monogamous after The Wicked King?

Will cardan stay loyal to jude? / cardans views of faith / his love for jude

😭😭no hate to anon but i can’t ever picture cardan NOT being faithful to jude. Also anon did you read “how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories”

btw I’ve made posts like this before(regarding his faith) and they dive into other aspects of why i think he was faithful: this one!!!

he singled jude out from the very beginning during palace school, he fell for jude WHILE he was with nicasia, for so many reasons.

he at first found her infuriating and frustrating for her advantages that she had and he didn’t, despite being raised on the idea that humans were garbage.

then he fell for her determination and audacity, her cunning and strength. even as jude made him look weak, he wanted her and only her.

Meanwhile, cardan hates ass-kissers, which is nicasia, and the rest of the court. He hates that courtiers will allow him to slap and use them, all while going home to people that actually loved them. This is stated in his novella.

Cardan is brought up on the idea that he is a prince that has nothing, that he is worthless despite his title, and he hates it. And that’s how the people treat him, adored and petted on for short times (mostly for favor), but ultimately abandoned and unloved.

Yes, cardan has had lovers, as seen in tcp, in twk, but never after the beggining of the wicked king when he’s shot at. of course courtiers drape themselves on him, but he is aware that they do not love him and that he does not love them, he has only grown not to lash out at them, at which i imagine was based on the fact that he was no longer under balekins suffrance (his beatings) and because he now had jude (even if they weren’t really allies at this point, he still craves Jude’s favor and acts accordingly, as seen as when he gives Taryn his army bc he thinks she’s jude, as seen as him trying time and time again to gain her favor in twk)

Because he wants jude to trust him. Even in the first book, even BEFORE the first book, in his novella, cardan WANTS jude to admire him. he wants jude to see him as he wishes to be seen, princely and powerful, i will attach a pic below from his novella:

(Honestly this pic ALONE pretty much seals the deal for me that he wouldn’t so much as look at another, let alone cheat on jude)

now, onto monogamy and fae standards:

Cardan has shown a clear dislike for many fae standards and cultures.

He sees humans differently from others, he sees life as precious and as something to hold onto, (I’m talking about his morals and his unwillingness to kill even someone that another faerie would consider beneath him), he is unlike his brothers in the power-hungry sense, he likes taking the easy way out, and he craves true love above all.

Jude’s monologue once said that faeries view lovemaking as a sport, as a game. But cardan also said that he never saw love as a game. And he cannot lie.

Add on: bro LITERALLY called jude his GOD. and he cannot lie… so why would he ever have anyone else? exactly!

Another thing, his view of human culture. We know he read Alice in wonderland. We also know that to humans, exchanging rings is commonly our wedding/marital tradition. It it not a fae tradition, for a bride and groom to give each other rings.

Cardan went out of his way to learn about Jude’s culture when proposing to her, and he also stole her ring very early on in the wicked king, so i can imagine that he was planning to propose for a while. To make her his queen.

It is also human culture to remain loyal and monogamous.

Then, when she left during the exile. he was devastated, and begged her to come home in letters that his mother did not send.

In twk, cardan learns, slowly but surely, how to be good. How to be a good king, a good person. For Jude. He learns that he doesn’t have to resort to drinking himself sick to avoid all the misery he endures, but to overcome those miseries and become a good man. and he does it partly for jude and also of course-for himself.

Cardan never knew he could be good, he could be loved. But jude taught him that. (If that isn’t enough to think that he wouldn’t remain monogamous then damn)

Then of COURSE there’s the fact that jude is human. there aren’t many unglamoured humans in elfhame, and obviously Jude’s body is different from a faerie. i like to think that cardan has a specific attraction to Jude’s human body, rather than the same old faerie bodies he’s seen. (I get it king)

LASTLY, i just want to remind us all of how cardan reacted when he found nicasia (of whom he was in a royal relationship with, like him and Jude) with Locke. the photos from his novella are below:

He views nicasias little fling with Locke as excruciating, as a horrible painful betrayal, and he trusted her not to hurt him. (Similar to him and jude, how they trust each other by the end of it, not to hurt one another)

and also, i highlighted “pretend” because although it is faerie standard to be poly in many relationships, cardan STILL is pained by her actions and his dignity and heart are both in shreds. he will pretend to love her after, if the opportunity arises and nicasia doesn’t love him, if it turns out to be just a fling, but he would still be pained by being with her.

if that is how cardan feels about being with lovers, about jude being poly or him being poly, why would he go and inflict that on jude?? he wouldn’t. what him and jude have is much more real than what he and nicasia had because it wasn’t built on obligation (and also the idea that nicasia was going to eventually murder him and steal his throne)

Moral of the story, cardan would not be with other lovers for these reasons: he loves her and he loves to be loved by her, he has learned human cultures to make himself a better husband for her and he follows those traditions, he is heavily distrustful and he dislikes courtiers. also him and jude are MARRIED ROYALTY, at which they are bound by the throne and the land to be together or whatever

anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk! it shocks me that anyone would think that he would be with others, even if it is faerie culture, cardan is absolutely DEVOTED to that woman (i understand you king)

add on: also ofc jude is scared to get her heart hurt, she guards her heart the ENTIRE series until the end w cardan- and she’s sad when she sees him w nicasia when she asks cardan to get w her in twk. also he’s smoking hot and the king so yeah i would be thinking abt his sex life too lol. also- bro doesn’t even consider the thought that she thinks he may have been w another lover (in qon when they are about to bang) like he is so madly in love w her and she doesn’t even see it, they’re so cute! ALSO cardan has finally found love w jude so it doesn’t make sense for him to go and seek out another, especially since he’s distrusting and hates boot lickers lol

sorry for being so dead on here, I’m from the US so i was saving this last week for rotting my brain on TikTok for the last few days !! I’m working on more asks and ily 🫶 also feel free to add anything i probably missed!! This was messy and lmk if there are any typos!! ok bye

#tfota #the cruel prince #jude duarte #the folk of the air #cardan greenbriar #tcp #jurdan #holly black #jude x cardan #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #cardan #jude #nicasia #fota #the folk of air #the folk of the air series #the cruel prince series #jude cardan

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