#but the thought of looking for a relationship tires me

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

You hate Logan but you have a child together

You had a complicated relationship with your Logan. When he first came to the mansion the two of you hit off immediately. The typical good girl bad guy dynamic, but there always a layer of Logan you couldn't quite get to. He wanted to be with you, but he didn't want to do the work in order to keep you. He struggled with being emotionally vulnerable and you were the complete opposite. You told him you felt, you spoke through misunderstandings with him, and you were always there to listen. To try get any piece of your lover that you could. But after years of begging Logan to love you, when you told him you were in love with him. He said he was not, and that was the end of your relationship.

Or so you thought. Because your relationship couldn't end that easily, but you discovered you were pregnant. Logan tried to make things back to normal, but you rejected him at every turn. He hadn't ever wanted to hurt you, but as he realized your unrelenting anger, he knew he did. He knew that you cried when you were alone, that you'd start going to therapy again. That being pregnant with Logan's child was literally the last thing he thought you wanted. Maybe before when you were together when Logan wasn't confronted on being a coward.

He calls this karma, watching you go to Jean and Scott for support instead of him. Watching you grow progressively more pregnant with his child, and he couldn't hold you or kiss you. Logan thought about leaving, it was he had done so many times before. Even when the two of you were together, he'd leave for long periods of time. Breaking your heart over and over again but coming back asking for forgiveness. You'd given him so many chances and he had wasted them on being a brainless dick.

Little did you know how hard it was not to run back to him, not to give him to his promises. But you couldn't trust that he was going to come through for you. You didn't have any doubts about your child together, you knew that you meant something to him. You'd hope that his anxiety wouldn't pull him away from his own child. Because you knew he'd be a good dad, the way he was with Rogue, always checking in on her, making sure Bobby was being respectful. He loved her like a daughter, and you only hopped he could love your child the same.

Logan was going to have to be a part of your life no matter what now, or so you hoped. There was a hope in Logan that when your daughter was born that you would accept him again. He'd plan to tell you he loved you, that'd he give anything to you, that he'd wait for forever. It took him 9 months to grow the guts to do it.

It was a no brainer when he had their baby in his arms, you laying in the med-bay, he'd never seen you so tired but so happy. "Y/n." He murmured, looking over at you with his soft eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you made eye contact with him. "I'm sorry for letting you down, I-I want to give you everything, I-I loved you for so long, I've just been too scared to say anything." He admitted, wearing his heart on his sleeve for once in his life.

You felt tears well up in your eyes at the pang in your chest, you shook your head as you looked away. "I-I can't risk it, Logan. Getting hurt by you-." You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I can't do it again, and I can't focus on you anymore and how you make me feel, I gotta focus on our girl, make sure she has the life she's supposed to."

Logan didn't say anything as he looked back down at his daughter, a shaky sigh falling from his mouth as he tried to keep the tears welling up in his eyes at bay. He didn't think he would cry if you said no, but Logan also thought you would forgive him. "I uh-I wanna name her Hazel."

"Yeah?" He grinned over at you, even just the slimmest of hope fluttering in his chest. You also spoke about his hazel eyes; it was one of your favorite things about him. Even if you didn't consciously pick it because of him, he had given him the glimmer of hope he needed to completely devote himself to you and Hazel.

Logan didn't confess anymore feelings or push you to be with him. But you grew rather annoyed by his presence always a reminder of something you wanted desperately but whenever you got it hurt you. It was like the apple that you wanted so desperately but everything was telling you to not grab the apple, don't eat it. Don't give into those green eyes and that handsome smile. Try not to focus when he was talking in that almost condescending way while his eyes flitted up and down your body. This man had no shame in showing you how much he loved you, by teasing, poking, antagonizing. But also being the first one to show up when you were overwhelmed with Hazel or you were just having a rough time. He didn't need to ask, he just did.

Being so agonizing good with your daughter that it was hard not to fold when he was such a good man. But instead of giving him a chance, you only pushed him away more, complaining about the littlest things and not giving Logan the benefit of the doubt. When Hazel wasn't around, it was you calling him some name and trying to start an argument with him.

But it was hard to act like a bitch when you saw your one and half year old on Logan's hip while he made her breakfast. It was his morning to take care of her, but you'd waken up early so you went for some coffee. "Morning beautiful." Logan grinned at you, you were suer he said those things to purposely piss you off. You ignored him as usual coming up to Hazel and kissing her cheek.

"Good morning love bug." You murmured to her, as she grinned over at you before putting a kiss on your own cheek. Logan gazed over at the two of you, imagines of you calling him that nickname, 'Love bug'. You'd explained to him how much that nickname actually meant to you, how it was favorite term of endearment. Something that you called him for a long time. He just wished it would be directed at him one day, one day he'd regain your trust again, right?

Logan wasn't a patient man.

But he was patient for his girls.

Notes: angsty moment here lmao got this idea last night just didn't have time to write it. hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a part 2

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland

[b0r3dtod3ath]

hmmm a oscar request where the reader is a rookie for ferrari this year too in formula one, and maybe the reader is the younger sister of lando, and he has an idea that she’s involved with someone but he hasn’t presssed to find out who, the reader and oscar planned to tell everyone but than oscar got a deal with mclaren so they didn’t want to say anything yet, in japan it’s oscar and reader who get their first podiums together and lando is watching the two from the bottom with his team and he finally notices the looks and smiles between his teamate and little sister and starts thinking back to many times where he saw them interact (you could do like little flashbacks and show little scenes) thinking they were just best friends but realizing it was always more than that, and lando goes and confronts them and he’s not mad but a little hurt his favorite sister didn’t tell them and maybe after oscar and reader both post on insta and hard launch their relationship

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist

♡ warnings: none.

♡ a/n: thank you for requesting and sorry you had to wait soooo looong!!!

You were always close to your brother. He supported you a lot this season since being a female rookie competing with your brother was taking a toll on you. But in the middle of the season something changed. Lando couldn’t tell exactly what happened but you seemed better - almost happier. He still supported you all the time but now you weren’t attached to his hip. At first he thought you had got used to everything around. Your teammate was one of Lando’s closest friends - Carlos. He knew you were safe. 

But with time Lando couldn’t shake off the feeling that something more serious was going on. The way you were smiling at your phone only to hide it deep inside your bag seconds later and the way you would get defensive anytime someone would ask a question about your love life. Lando was happy that you felt better - you were never seen in the paddock without your new glint in the eye and a soft grin - but he couldn’t get rid of his curiosity. 

Your relationship with Oscar started innocently. You were a rookie, he was a rookie. It was small things at first - a supportive pat on the back after a good session or a shared joke about Lando. Eventually your casual chats became late-night conversations and phone calls only to later transform into wine drunk confessions while sitting on the floor of Oscar’s hotel room. 

The two of you value your privacy. For many reasons you didn’t want your relationship public so the love blossomed behind the closed doors. During race weekends, amongst the chaos, you two always found a moment to be there for each other. The stolen glances, whispers and secret gestures being the testimony of your love. 

He often left flowers for you in your hotel room. Whenever Lando asked about them you replied with “Oh that. That’s from the hotel. It was here when I checked in”. You always took one flower or a few petals to dry and keep as a memory.

Knowing that Lando was observant, Oscar avoided asking too much about his sister and showing too much interest in you. He didn’t avoid you in front of Lando but he made sure not to spill your shared secret. 

It was incredibly frustrating and tiring. Sometimes you just wished you could hug Oscar after a race but instead you had to settle for a subtle nod form across the paddock. 

You and Oscar had a small argument about whether to tell your brother about your relationship. Oscar thought it would be better to tell him but you weren’t so sure. “Seriously? You think we can keep this secret from him any longer? Don’t be ridiculous.” he shook his head. ”The longer we hide it the more pissed off he will be. If the fans catch us before him, he’s gonna kill me, push me off the track or something…” he muttered.

You didn’t know how to respond to that. One side of you wanted your brother to know but on the other side you were scared. Many what ifs flooded your mind while Oscar went on about how he felt like a stupid teenager with all this sneaking around. “But you know how protective Lando is… What if he gets mad? What if it ruins your friendship? You are teammates, what if-” you anxiously went on and on as he was pacing around his room. He interrupts, his voice subtly rising “And what if he understands? What if he says it's fine and doesn’t say anything? You’re his sister! He loves you! I just don’t want to keep lying to him!”. 

You grew annoyed “You think I don’t feel that too? You think I wanna hide all the time? This isn’t easy for me! I have known him all my life, he’s been there for me through everything. I can’t just walk up to him and say ‘Oh yea, by the way, I have been secretly going out with your teammate for the past four months’!” you paused to take a breath “I just need some time”. Oscar huffed at your response “Time for what? For him to find out himself? Listen, I care about you, about us. I don’t wanna hide something so important. I can wait. But it can’t go forever. We’ll figure it out. He deserves to know”. 

“I know, I’m just scared…” you said looking at him. Oscar gently took your hand “I know, but we will figure it out together” he said softly. “Okay, together” you whispered, squeezing his hands.

The atmosphere in Japan was electric. It was a big race, everyone could feel it. Ferrari and Mclaren bought new updates for their cars causing the excitement to rise. The weekend was rainy but the weather didn’t stop you and Oscar from delivering your best performances.

On a Sunday afternoon you found yourself parking your car next to his and immediately getting out to hug him. You didn’t care about people around you - it was your first podium and only that mattered. 

Lando looked up at the podium, seeing his sister and teammate next to each other made his heart swell. Both of you covered in champagne, standing side by side, grinning and laughing like drunk teenagers.

That’s when everything clicked. Lando’s heart skipped a beat as all the little moments flashed before his eyes. The way you had talked in hushed tones in the garage, the playful banter during media days, and countless disappearances. 

During the interviews and post-race debrief Lando found himself lost in thoughts. He would occasionally glance at you or Oscar, trying to wrap his head around it. He wasn’t exactly angry, he was confused and a little hurt. He knew he had to talk to you about it. 

The team was buzzing with excitement, and plans had been made to go clubbing to celebrate. Lando caught up with you in the hotel lobby as everyone was getting ready to head out. “Hey, wait a second” he says the moment he sees you. “Yeah, what’s up?” you ask, unaware of what he knows. “So... you and Oscar, huh?” His whispered tone made shivers run down your spine. You chuckled nervously “What makes you think like that?”. He shrugged, crossing his arms “Well, I don’t know. The way you two have been sneaking off together, the little smiles, the whole ‘pretend we’re just friends’ act. I might be your brother, but I’m not that stupid” he paused, watching your expression. “So, how long?”.

“How long what?” says a voice behind you. You felt weight being lifted from your shoulders when you saw Oscar approach. “Oh, nothing. I was just asking how long the two of you have been dating.” Lando says with a smirk, his gaze glued to you, definitely enjoying your embarrassed state. Oscar could feel your emotions, his hand made his way to your back to caress it - a silent way of reminding you that he’s here. “A few months,” he admits, voice steady but cautious. “We didn’t want to keep it a secret, Lando. We just... didn’t know how to tell you” he explained. “It was never about not trusting you. I was just scared of your reaction…” you added. 

“Look, I get it. I’m not mad, just... annoyed I had to figure it out on my own. I would’ve preferred hearing it from you guys.” He glanced at both of you, the concern clear in his eyes “But if this is serious... then I just want to make sure you’re both happy. And that you’ll be honest with me from now on. Now let’s go celebrate, yeah?” you nodded and hugged Lando, feeling relieved.

The tree of you headed towards the car. Oscar opened the door for you and just as he was supposed to enter the car Lando pointed a finger at him. “But Oscar, you hurt her, and you are dealing with me. Remember that”. Oscar held up his hands in defense “Understood”. 

@/lando.jpg

happy podium to my favourite couple

september 18, 2024

[naburi]

WILL YOU AVAIL ME AGAIN?

DAHYUN X READER

TAGS: DILDO PLAY, LUBE, BODY OIL, TONGUE PLAY, MISSIONARY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, DOGGY, ANAL

3.4K WORDS

Midnight and still awake, browsing to find a video that will satisfy you for tonight. It seems like you're looking at identical girls, fake big boobs, slim limbs, small waists. They all look the same which you find boring, not until you found her video. Her smooth thick legs are spread to front her tight pink slit, pleasuring herself in front of the camera, only wearing a face mask to hide her identity. “She looks like my coworker”, you said. Milky white skin, thick legs, broad slim shoulders. You didn’t give too much thought to the similarities not until you saw your coworker later that day.

You’re a young corporate man who can’t find romance to have a meaningful connection. You thought finally finishing college will improve your sex life, but what you found is the opposite. Everyone is busy in the fast paced workplace. Nobody has the time to build relationships, you are all too tired to go out to satisfy your sexual life. That’s why you start to lean on watching adult content. It’s easy, quick, and convenient as you can all have different platforms to have access to numerous adult content creators.

“MS. KIM,” you caught yourself calling Ms. Kim's attention. The thought of the woman you watched last night flashes on your mind. Dahyun looks back, “Hi, Mr. y/n, can I help you?,” she asked politely while still baffled you shouted her name. “I… I… No, I don’t have anything to say,” you say nervously. You don’t even know why you called her name. Feeling embarrassed, you apologize to Dahyun and quickly go back to your cubicle. The woman was left standing processing what just happened.

“It’s her right?” You said to yourself, rushing back home, not even bothered to change clothes. You pull out your phone to go back to the website you found the video. You found her page and surfed through her contents. Her first upload was 6 months ago. She goes from posting just the bottom half of her body, cropped from shoulder up, to revealing her head which still keeps her identity with a white face mask. She consistently uploads every week, most of her videos are just herself playing with her slit with different dildos, she also posts a quick video teaser having an intercourse but you need to subscribe to her page to have access to her adult contents.

Dahyun has a great image in your company. She's the youngest but already has few promotions due to her work ethic and dedication. There are rumors that her quick ascension to the corporate ladder is not because of her hard work but due to what she can do for you after work hours. The rumors didn’t hit the ground enough because of how well she befriended everyone in the company. Her young angelic face helps but what caught everyone’s heart is her bubbly personality that shines bright in the dull and depressing workplace.

It’s been a week now, you took every instance to get an interaction with the company’s princess. From personally passing some documents, to having conversations with someone in her department. Dahyun is not in the same department as you thus making your investigation more complicated. You thought about stalking her social media accounts but all are in private. You started befriending her close coworkers but good things about her are the only thing they talk about. Finding proof that they are the same person seems like an impossible task thus you finally gave up. Nothing would change if you prove that they are the same person, it’s not like you will snitch on the company’s princess after all.

Heavy rain pours just as you’re about to clock out. You and your coworkers are standing outside of the entrance waiting for the rain to die down. A white SUV pulls up in front of you, the driver’s window rolled down, its Ms. Kim, “come inside, I'll drop you off at the subway station.” Some of your coworkers who also take a subway with you ride the SUV. Everyone is too shy to take the passenger seat including you. “You can’t all fit in the back, one should sit beside.” She said, nobody what’s to go in front but they manage to convince you. Sitting tightly on the passenger seat, your colleagues at the back keep asking questions to Ms. Kim, as they also what’s to get close to her, while you’re sitting quietly due to shyness.

Dahyun’s phone that’s on the dashboard lit up revealing a notification. You notice a familiar application icon and the text that says she has a new subscriber. This is the proof that you're looking for, Ms. Kim is an adult content creator. Your colleagues in the back didn’t notice the notification and Dahyun just casually turned down her phone, thinking you don’t know what the notification is all about. Everyone is thanking Ms. Kim for the ride, She noticed how happy you are but not giving more thoughts about it.

Arriving at home, you now have more reason to watch all her contents, you're watching the company’s princess pleasure herself. Everyone's beloved coworker is in an adult site spreading her legs for views and money. It's been a few nights now and her masturbation videos became repetitive. Your high needs satisfaction thus you now subscribe to her paid contents to watch her get fucked by different men, from local Koreans to foreigners, she let herself get fucked to make an content. Her most viewed content is where she pours body oil all over her body which highlights her white skin. Her glowing white oiled up skin, made the sex more erotic. Her buttocks made a heavenly sound as the guy is hitting her from behind, her small oiled boobs get massaged sensually before she takes the cock inside her again. Dahyun wails and moans under her face mask as she gets fuck harder. The few bucks you spend for her content is worth it.

You smile and interact with Ms. Kim during the day while touching yourself watching her contents at night, this has become your routine until she has not been in the office for a few consecutive days now. Nobody knows why she’s absent for a few days now and her manager doesn’t want to disclose her reason. Watching her videos doesn’t hit the mark anymore. You’re about to go sleep but a notification pops up on your screen. Dahyun just dropped a new subscription based content. You can subscribe to her live stream where you can select what kind of dildos she will use and what position she will do a live masturbation. How this works is you're gonna give her gifts during the stream for her to follow your instructions.

She announced that the live stream will start tomorrow at midnight. You’re one of the first subscribers that’s in her live, her legs spread open just like the first time you saw her content. Her one hand is caressing her slit while her other hand is fondling her breast, Different sizes of dildos and lubes lined up to her right side. One viewer starts giving gifts with his comments on the stream. She asked Dahyun to use a thick dildo. She lubes the dildo and slowly inserts it in her slit. The thickness of it gives her a hard time as her slit didn’t even get to warm up. Few attempts pass by and she finally gets to put it all inside her, she starts to moan as she’s pumping the thick dildo inside her.

“Use the tentacle dildo and sit on it,” one commented. Dahyun reads this as she gets notified for the gift. She poured lube to the dildo and started stroking it to spread the lube. She sticks it in front of the screen as she slowly impales herself in the tentacle shaped dildo. The unusual shape gives Dahyun a different sensation making her more horny, she grabs both of her boobs as she’s sitting up and down to the dildo. She started to play with her boobs without even an instruction. She’s massaging her under boobs upward then focusing her fingers on her nipples. One of the viewers commented that she should use oil as she’s caressing her boobs. Dahyun follows, quickly pouring oil on her chest, smothering it all over her boobs, her boobs massages get more erotic due to how smooth she caresses her two mounds.

“Use the black dildo, in your anal, sit on it” a viewer commented. The black dildo is noticeably inspired by a big black cock, it's shaped like one and in great detail. Dahyun uses two hands just to pour lube all over the dildo. She turned her back to the camera as she’s slowly sitting on it. Her big butt is now in full view, the sight of her ass taking the big black dildo is too erotic, Dahyun groans as her ass is getting stretched. The viewers are praising her on how erotic she is, they commented that her moans are heavenly. They keep giving gifts even without instructions as they are pleased with what she’s doing.

To your surprised, Ms. Kim is finally back in the office. Everyone greets her and wants to know the reason for her absences. You're happy to see your colleague but you’re too embarrassed to greet her as you know the real reasons why she’s having a hard time walking around the office. You heard that she’s saying to your coworkers that she has a sprained ankle is the reason she can’t walk straight. Nobody bats an eye as the company is just glad to finally see their bubbly princess.

You thought everything goes back to normal but it’s been a week now and Ms. Kim has nowhere to be found, her manager said that she filed for a long leave due to personal reasons. You took the subway with heavy feet as you’re saddened by the news, it seems like you developed an affectionate attitude towards your colleague and just wants to see her do well again. After taking a bath as an attempt to lift your mood. You saw a notification from Dahyun’s page. She’s offering a VIP subscription where you can meet her face to face. This subscription comes with a hefty price and you need to abide by 5 sets of conditions: you can’t remove her face mask during the session, you can’t asked for an oral sex, you can’t ask for her personal information, you can’t record anything during the session, you should wear protection during intercourse.

You didn’t waste any time and avail her VIP subscription even though it’s worth half of your monthly salary. After sending your payment. You received a message where she sends you a time and date where you can meet her. It’s on Saturday afternoon, in one of the hotels in the city. The sudden realization that Dahyun will know that you’re one of her subscribers sent you into a frenzy. You don’t want to cancel your meet up as this golden opportunity may not knock again.

It’s Friday night, you do a quick shopping for self care materials as you want to look good and smell good when you finally do it with Dahyun. You are embarrassed to buy packs of condoms as it’s been ages since you last bought one. It’s the day of the meet up. She sends you a message that she will wait for you in the room. You're now in front of the hotel, standing nervously while wearing… a face mask. You plan to also somehow conceal your identity to Ms. Kim because you don’t want to destroy your working relationship with her. This plan fails miserably as Dahyun can’t hide her shock expression the moment she opens the room door.

There’s an awkward air in the hotel room. It seems like the two of you might not do it out of embarrassment. The silence in the room was broken by a pop up message on her phone. You notice how her expression changed as she read the message. Whatever is in the message is enough for Dahyun to ignore that her coworker will share the same bed as her. She laid her conditions in a serious tone as she removed her clothing, sitting naked on the center of the bed waiting for you to make a move on her.

You strip down your clothes in nervousness while only leaving the face mask. You awkwardly sit in front of the naked woman. You look in her eyes to see her expressions, but she doesn’t have any, it looks like she’s ready for whatever you want to do with her. You first touch her boobs, your two hands awkwardly reach to her mounds, carefully playing it. Dahyun knows that both of you will get satisfied with you still being cautious. “Mr. Y/n, I know it’s you, you can remove your face mask and do me as you please,” she said finally addressing the elephant in the room.

Dahyun’s message wakes you out of your nervousness. You’re here fuck the company’s princess and that’s what you do, you remove your face move and instructed her to lay down. The woman that you have been watching every night is not laying down in front of you. You position yourself on top of her reaching her two boobs again but this time, caressing them like how they deserve. Dahyun's boobs perfectly fit her body, and shaped her body to great proportions. The woman groans on how aggressive you mauled her boobs but you can’t help yourself due to how soft they are. Her pink nipples that you saw her playing on her content are now in the tip of your own fingers.

Dahyun yelps as you play her nipples. This encourages you to use your tongue to pleasure one of them. Flicking her nipple in a circular motion she grabs your hair to press your head even closer to her boobs. You notice that Dahyun also brings her toys with her. You reached out for her bag on the side table, from watching her oiled body to being the one pouring it to her. You pour directly on her nipples which caught her off guard by the wet sensation. From her nipples to her boobs, you massaged her body, smearing the oil in the process. Her white milky skin glistening, her smooth skin gets slippery making it easy to caress the rest of her body.

You pour oil down to her legs as well, massaging her thick legs, your fingertips move dangerously close to her slit which elicits a gasp from Dahyun as she’s anticipating it. You notice how she got wet after you massage her legs. You lick her slit up to taste your colleague. Dahyun keeps moaning as your tongue explores her slit. From her slit up to her clit, you lick every part of it, making your goal to eat Dahyun well. Your tongue focuses on flicking her clit, the woman jolts her hips in pleasure. You hold down her waist to keep her in place while continuing your barrage on her clit. You notice wetness in your chin due to Dahyun getting more wet. You hardened your tongue now and inserts in and out of her slit. The woman pushes your head down even more, while her other hand is stimulating her clit. You suck and lick your colleagues till she shakes her hips due to orgasm.

Dahyun is laying down letting her orgasm flow till she feels your tongue is now exploring her ass. Her ass is as pink as her slit, you spit on it as lube before you slowly lick her ass. Her legs started to move uncontrollably as she’s not used to her ass getting licked. From soft circular motions to fast in and out of her ass, every touch of your tongue elicits a loud moan from Dahyun. You notice she used one of her dildos to rub her slit while you're eating her down there. This signals to you that she’s ready.

You stand up to wear a condom while Dahyun can’t wait as she’s already shoving a dildo in her slit while she’s waiting for you. You smirk as your naughty colleague can’t wait any longer. Spreading her legs up. You position your cock in front of her slit that still has a dildo inside it. You pull the dildo out of her and it reveals how her slit forms into a hole that accommodates the size of the dildo. Dahyun is looking at your cock seamlessly entering her slit. The feeling of a warm cock can’t beat any size or shape of a dildo she thought. You hold her small waist as you gradually quicken up the pace. Hands on her face masks to cover her mouth, she’s embarrassed how her coworker can make her moan this load. Her muffled moan only adds to your fuel to fuck the company’s princess like she’s your slut.

You hear Dahyun calling your name through her covered mouth, her walls tightening, the woman is near her orgasm. You now hold her wide hips to get a better grip of her as you rammed your cock deep inside her as face as you could. Dahyun let go of her mouth to let a loud moan echo all throughout the room. You let her orgasm again while your cock is still inside her. Pulling out, you want to keep her slit stimulated. You put the dildo back inside her as you asked Dahyun to masturbate using her dildo while you fuck her from behind. You position her in a doggy position, her ass still wet from your tongue assault earlier on. She felt your tip bump in the entrance of her ass. Dahyun’s face is in the bedsheet, one hand plowing the dildo in her slit, she felt your warm cock slowly entering her ass. The woman groans lowly as she’s taking it all deep in her. Dahyun tight ass is no Joke, even though this ass takes the biggest of dildos, it’s still tight like it’s begging to get worn down. Dahyun has a big white ass which is impaled with your cock. Every slap to her meaty ass leaves a red mark of your hand. You both groaned as you started to move your cock in and out of her. You remember the endless nights you watched this big ass of her get fucked by dildos or other men, but for this moment, it’s yours to destroy. You plow your cock slowly and deep in her ass making sure your tip reaches as deep as your can. Dahyun is now biting her face mask, muffling her cries of pleasure. You began to move your cock at a quicker pace which made Dahyun speak inaudibly. She can’t move her dildo anymore as she’s getting too stimulated on how you fuck her ass. You’re now maintaining a quick pace plowing her ass, Dahyun cries your name as all she knows now is how your cock pleasuring all parts of her tight ass. She tried to reach for your arm that is holding her hips to signal you that she can’t take it anymore. Dahyun is about to turn into a mess. Her body drops on the bed but you still keep fucking her ass. Dahyun doesn't know how long it has been but she noticed when you asked her if you can cum on her back. She can only muffled a “Yes,” before you remove your cock in her ass and spray paint her back with all your cum.

The woman fell asleep for a few minutes before sitting up like she’s in a hurry. She asked if she could leave now, still catching your breath. You agreed to leave together. “I need money, my brother is sick, he will undergo operations next week,” Dahyun said as she’s driving you to the subway station. Without asking a question, she answered what you’re terrified to ask. You listen to her story while she’s driving you to the subway station. Her parents are too old to work, her family is only dependent on her. She asked if you can keep this between the two of you. She said she will go back to work after her brother’s operation.

“Will you avail me again?” Dahyun jokingly asked.

[causenessus]

for your event, can I request suna with ⭐️ and 🍳? :D

Almond Butter. | Suna Rintarou

suna x f!reader

written in 2nd pov and it tore me to shreds

prompts from 1k followers event -> ⭐ -> insomnia & 🍳 -> cooking

"you've adored me before, oh my good looking boy." from good looking (stripped) by suki waterhouse

word count: 1.1k words

notes: fluff <333 i can't help talking about how hot and sexy this man is everytime i write for him i am so in love with him i am barking from him HHHHH— suna being a good boyfriend and brother!!! i love this man to bits and pieces <3 1K WRITING EVENT IS BACK IN SESSION!!! AND SO AM I!! NESS!! FOR A SINGLE DAY!! WITH CRAPPY WRITING!! i'm obsessed with him and him only using petnames and also i see this as a scenario being quite early into your relationship with him <3 and basically this being the first time he says "i love you" to you (without realizing it) and you realizing you love him (and being too sleepy to say it)(this makes more sense once you read the drabble)

mango anon, if you see this <3 this is us <3 this is me making u almond butter toast <3

cw: food, talk about food chemistry and how your brain converts food to melatonin using carbs yay science! work is not exactly proofread

you’ve been waiting in your living room for the past 10 minutes.

well, actually, you’ve been waiting for the past two hours to go to sleep but your brain won't let you, no matter how tired you feel.

finally giving up any chance of falling asleep soon in your bed, you let the screen of your phone blind you as you shoot a quick text to your boyfriend:

y/n : taro are you awake? i can’t sleep :( insomnia’s kicking my ass again

you collapse back onto your pillow, throwing your phone haphazardly to your side with a groan. almost immediately, your head pops back up again at the sound of a buzz, and you blindly reach for your phone, looking at its screen.

rin <3 : yeah i am

rin <3 : give me 10 min

you weren’t entirely sure what he had meant by that; if he was busy, and would reply again in 10 minutes or if he was coming over.

you hoped it was the latter, but you'd find out soon enough. in the meantime, you moved to your living room, curled up on your couch under a heavy blanket, dimly lit by the warm light of a nearby lamp as you watched the seconds go by on your phone.

you always slept better with him, whether he was holding you in his arms or he was just simply in the room with you, it felt nice to be in his presence. just the thought of him was slowly making your eyes start to droop before the sound of the door unlocking made you perk up.

there he was, gently swinging your door open, a white plastic bag in hand. his yellow eyes fell on you as you looked him up and down, obviously judging his poor taste in clothing (sweats and a t-shirt) despite it being the middle of winter.

“hi baby,” he whispers, kicking off his shoes before immediately making a beeline towards you. you were peeking out from over the arm of your couch, and he knelt on the floor at the side of the couch, chin propped against the arm of it where you were, leaning in towards your face. there was a smile on his own as he spoke, “don’t fall asleep now, i just got here.”

you can only sigh quietly in response, happy to finally see him. “can’t help it,” you mumble, “‘was thinking of you.”

his smile only grows at your words, and he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting a hand run down the side of your face, caressing it carefully. “you’re cute when you’re tired, doll,” he teases as you lean into his touch, too tired to even respond. “at least let me take care of you before you fall asleep though, yeah? i went to the store for you after all.”

“you didn’t have to buy me anything,” you whisper, reaching an arm out to him, trying to get him to join you on the couch.

he grabs your hand, rubbing a thumb lovingly over the back of it, but doesn’t let you pull him down, “of course i’ll buy you things, y/n. i love you. can i make you something to eat?”

you hum in thought, thinking about if you really want to allow him to move you, but when he tugs gently at your arm, you get up (begrudgingly) bringing your blanket with you to the kitchen.

you rest your arms on the counter you’re sitting at, lazily watching his figure move through your kitchen, pulling items out of his bag. “what’re you doing?” you eventually question, eyeing his selection of groceries with confusion. the jug of milk you can understand, but not the jar of what you assume to be jam and a nut butter.

“‘making you toast,” he answers, rummaging through your drawers for a knife, “my sister used to have trouble sleeping sometimes too, and she’d always wake me up instead of our mom so i had to figure out what helped.”

“and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are supposed to help you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting up to rest your head on your hand as you watch him pull a plate from your cupboard.

the bread he dropped into your toaster pops back up as he corrects you, “almond butter. my sister hates peanut butter, and rightfully so. almonds are better.” he continues talking as he places the toasted bread on the plate he grabbed, “i had to google what kind of foods you should eat when you can’t sleep and it’s the first suggestion i saw. the almonds have something in them that gets converted to melatonin using the carbs from the bread and jam, or something like that.”

you nod along like you really care about whatever science he’s rambling about when really, all you can pay attention to is how nice his voice is. ever since he entered your apartment, you’ve realized how much he was all you needed to sleep. you’re slowly getting more attached to him and the longer you date him, the more sure you are that you love him, too.

he slips into the seat next to you, sliding the plate of toast over to you. you mumble a small thanks, biting into the sandwich before opting to lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder while the rest of your body is wrapped in the heavy blanket you brought from your couch.

you hum in satisfaction, deciding that maybe rintarou was right about whatever science is behind the contents of this sandwich, or maybe he just needs to research the effect he has on you. you’re sure just being in his presence is sending melatonin straight to your brain–or however he said that works. “rin,” you hum, eyes closed as you remain leaning against him.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he asks. one of his arms has moved to wrap around your back, holding you close while one of his fingers grazes the skin of your arm, drawing lazy circles onto it.

“will you stay the night, too?” you ask, taking another bite of the sandwich.

he can’t help but smile, watching you snuggle up against him, scooting your chair and plate closer to him, closing the gap between you two. “of course, love, if that’s what you want,” he whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair.

you nod in response to the statement, holding up your sandwich to his mouth for him to take a bite of. “you're good at making sandwiches, but i think all i need is you to fall asleep,” you mumble tiredly and he chuckles.

“if you fall asleep here, i’ll have to carry you to your bed, you know,” he warns, but you're already drifting in and out of sleep, the plate on the table in front of you both now empty, besides a few crumbs of bread.

“that’s okay,” you try to say, fighting a losing battle against the sleep that's slowly overtaking you. “you can do it,” your last words of encouragement make his heart twist before your head lolls slightly, and he knows you’ve knocked out.

taglist: @akaakeis @wyrcan @daisy-room @eggyrocks @cheriisae @alexithemiyatic @kameyyy @iiwaijime @chaotic-neutral-ig @bakery-anon @kakeru-eem

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request headcanons for Barbatos, Gusion, Bael, Ronove, Glasyalabolas, and Amon reacting to gn crush accidentally confessing to him please?

Accidentaly confessing your crush to WHB demons III.

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

Characters: Barbatos, Glasyalabolas, Bael, Amon, Ronove, Gusion

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Immediately lights up and quickly looks around if Leviathan is in your vicinity

"Aw, I thought you'll never sound off. Still, are you sure it's safe for you to be saying it out of all places here?"

Seriously though, the castle of the king of envy himself isn't the best place to be confessing your feelings - despite it being accidental

You're both in the clear though

Looks like Leviathan won the bet with Glasyalabolas over who will confess first

       ༺☆༻

He can't deny that the thought of your limp body hasn't crossed his mind here and then when he saw you serve Leviathan

If he remembers correctly, he should have a free spot for something living in his life for now

The towering height of him above you doesn't really help your horrified state

In your mind the only options are him rejecting you or, worse, him feeling the same way and these moments being your last ones

To your horror he moves closer to you with a smirk on his lips

Oh, don't worry, he's just about to kiss you and give you some of that paralysing venom :)

       ༺☆༻

Wait, you actually meant to tell that to him? and not Beel?!

His eyes dart around the room for anything remotely reflective to check if he didn't forget to turn back after being Beel for some important event

But nope, he actually looks like himself

So it was actually meant for him?

That's a wonderful feeling, but then the guilt hits him

With all the work he has to do instead of Beel, he won't have much time spare for you unless you offer to help him out

This whole silent freakout is watched by one of Beels flies and he's making sure to remember all of it so he can tease him later about it

       ༺☆༻

His tired eyes slowly open as he's lounging on your sofa - his favorite spot to crash on

You what?

Ah, okay....

Wait, you're being serious?

He searches your face for any sign of humor in your face, but all he finds is your flushed cheeks from embarrassement

Amon lazily smiles and pulls you down on him, hugging you

       ༺☆༻

The fact Ronove's insanity-inducing power doesn't work on you already makes you special

And then you go and drop those words and start getting adorably flustered?

That's it, you're going into the collection

Alive for now and then, when you die, Ronove'll get you preserved so he can keep you for the rest of his days

Hope you like cats, because you'll have to get acquainted with them and remember all their names

       ༺☆༻

"Oh, is that all?"

"Well, that certainly explains why you always stare at me so much."

"No, you weren't sneaky."

Not really sure on how to lead a relationship, but he'll give it a try

Just make sure to communicate your needs

He's actually pretty happy that you like him for him and not only bc he can solve all your problems

Expect a lot of complaining about demons who do, tho

[paddockletters]

chihiro | trent alexander-arnold

request:Can you please write something for Trent inspired by chihiro something angst when Trent becomes distant toward the reader (gf or wife ) and less attentive . But she still gives him all of her but soon realizes that it breaks her, and it breaks her more because he hasn't realized pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader summary: You find yourself in a heart-wrenching struggle as Trent pulls away, leaving you to question your worth. Despite your devotion, his distance shatters your spirit. As you confront the painful truth, a life-changing decision awaits, forcing you to choose between love and self-preservation. warnings: angst, gaslighting author's note: i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you liked it, ... Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

I’ve been feeling it for a while now—the distance, the way Trent pulls away without even realizing it. At first, I thought it was just me being too sensitive, that maybe I was expecting too much. But as the days went on, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was no longer the person who used to look at me like I was his entire world. Now, it felt like I was just... there.

I remember the early days, the way he used to hold me so tight, like he was afraid I’d disappear. I’d catch him staring at me with that boyish smile of his, and he’d say, "What? Can’t I look at my girl?" I’d laugh and tell him he was ridiculous, but I loved it. I loved the way he made me feel seen, loved, important. That version of Trent feels like a distant memory now.

Now? Now he barely looks at me.

The other night, I tried to talk to him—really talk. I had been holding it in for too long, trying to give him space, hoping he’d notice on his own that something was wrong. But he didn’t. So, I brought it up, carefully, not wanting to start a fight.

"Trent," I said, sitting on the couch while he scrolled through his phone, "I feel like we’re not… us anymore."

He glanced up, brow furrowing for a moment before looking back at his screen. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just… I miss you. I miss how we used to be. Lately, it feels like you’re a million miles away, even when you’re sitting right next to me."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I’ve been busy. You know that."

"I know, but…" I hesitated. "It’s more than that, Trent. I feel like I’m losing you, and I don’t know how to fix it."

His response was so simple, so dismissive. "You’re overthinking it."

Overthinking it. That’s what he said. And maybe I was, but it didn’t change the fact that I felt like I was pouring everything I had into this relationship while he was barely giving me scraps in return.

I gave him a small, sad smile, hoping it would break through his detachment. "I’m not trying to push you away, I just want… I just want us to be close again."

Trent shifted uncomfortably, clearly not in the mood for a deep conversation. "We’re fine. I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this."

The silence that followed his words was suffocating. I remember how my chest tightened, and I had to fight back the tears threatening to spill over. Why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t he see that I was breaking right in front of him?

There was a time he would come home, exhausted from training, and still find the energy to cuddle up with me on the couch, kissing my forehead, telling me about his day. I remember one evening after a tough match, he had pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me, and whispered, "You’re the best part of my day, you know that?"

But those days feel like they belong to a different lifetime now.

Another night, I cooked his favorite meal, hoping it would spark something between us—bring him back to me. He came home late, as usual, tired and distracted. He barely glanced at the dinner I’d spent hours preparing.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely looking at the table. He grabbed a plate and sat down, eyes glued to the TV, like I wasn’t even there.

I sat across from him, pushing my food around my plate, trying to find the courage to say something, but the words died in my throat. It wasn’t just that he was distant; it was like I had become invisible to him.

When did it get this bad? I wondered, feeling a heaviness in my chest. The love I had for him was still there, burning painfully bright, but it was slowly killing me to keep holding on when he wasn’t holding on to me.

And then came the night it all fell apart.

I couldn’t sleep. I had spent hours lying next to him, staring at the ceiling, my heart aching with the weight of everything left unsaid. I needed to say something, to make him understand, but I didn’t know how.

I slipped out of bed and went to the living room, sitting in the dark, hugging my knees to my chest. I must have been there for a while because, at some point, Trent came out, rubbing his eyes.

"Why are you out here?" His voice was groggy, but there was no concern in it. Just exhaustion.

I looked up at him, tears already spilling down my cheeks. "I can’t do this anymore, Trent."

He frowned, confused. "Do what?"

"This." I gestured between us. "Us. Whatever this has become. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m not. I’m breaking, Trent, and you don’t even see it."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "What do you want me to say? I’m doing the best I can."

"But your best isn’t enough anymore," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I’ve given you everything—my love, my time, my heart—and I’m still left feeling like I’m not enough. Like I’m the only one fighting for us."

He sat down across from me, sighing heavily. "I don’t know what you want from me."

"I want you to care," I said, my voice breaking. "I want you to look at me the way you used to. I want to feel like I matter to you again."

There was a long silence. I stared at him, hoping—praying—that he would say something, anything, to make me feel like I hadn’t lost him completely. But all he did was look away, rubbing his face in frustration.

And that was it. That was the moment I knew. He didn’t have it in him anymore, and I couldn’t keep pouring my love into someone who wasn’t willing to do the same.

"I love you," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "But I can’t keep hurting like this."

He looked at me, his eyes finally softening, but it was too late. "I don’t want to lose you."

I smiled sadly through my tears. "You already have."

That night, after Trent and I sat in silence, I knew it wasn’t just a phase. It wasn’t going to change overnight or even at all. The weight of it all was too much, and I didn’t know how to carry it anymore. My hands were shaking as I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts. I needed to talk to someone—someone who might understand.

My thumb hovered over my best friend's name, Jess. I hadn’t told her much about what had been going on, mainly because I didn’t want to admit how bad things were. But now, it was like the dam had broken, and I needed to get it all out.

I hit call.

She picked up after a couple of rings, her voice groggy. "Hey, what’s up? It’s late, everything okay?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to steady my voice. "Not really."

Her tone shifted instantly, becoming more alert. "What happened? Is it Trent?"

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. "Yeah. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, Jess. It’s like I don’t exist to him. I love him so much, but I feel like I’m losing myself in the process of holding on to him."

There was a pause on the other end. Jess wasn’t one to sugarcoat things, but she also wasn’t the type to push unless I was ready.

"Has he said anything about how he feels? Have you guys talked?" she asked cautiously.

"We tried. Well, I tried. It’s like he doesn’t even see the problem. He keeps saying I’m overthinking it, that I’m making a big deal out of nothing. But it’s not nothing, Jess. It’s killing me."

There was another silence, and then she let out a deep sigh. "Babe, you deserve someone who sees you, who cares enough to put in the effort. I know you love him, but if he’s not giving you anything to hold on to, what are you supposed to do?"

I leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "I don’t know. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I want to believe things will get better, but he’s so... distant. Like he’s already gone, and I’m the only one holding on."

Jess’s voice softened. "Have you thought about what would happen if you walked away?"

My breath caught in my throat. I had thought about it—many times. But actually doing it? The idea felt like ripping my own heart out. "Yeah. I’ve thought about it. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough to let him go."

“You are. You’re stronger than you think,” she said firmly. “But don’t make any decisions until you’re sure. Give it some time, see if he changes. But if he doesn’t... you deserve better, and you know that.”

The next day, I found myself dialing a number I hadn’t used in a while—Trent’s mom. She and I had always gotten along, and part of me wondered if she could help, if maybe she’d seen this side of him before.

"Hello?" Her warm, familiar voice answered, and for a moment, I felt a little less alone.

"Hey, it’s me," I said quietly.

"Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to hear from you! How are you?"

I hesitated, my voice catching in my throat. "Not great, to be honest."

She paused, clearly sensing the heaviness in my tone. "Is everything okay with you and Trent?"

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over. "I don’t know. I feel like I’ve lost him. He’s been so distant, and I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t know what to do anymore."

She was silent for a moment, and then she sighed. "I’m so sorry, love. I’ve noticed he’s been a bit off lately, but I didn’t want to interfere. You know how he is—sometimes he gets so wrapped up in his own world that he doesn’t realize how it affects the people around him."

"Yeah," I whispered, wiping my eyes. "But I feel like I’m breaking, and he doesn’t even see it."

“Have you told him this? Really told him?” she asked gently.

"I tried. I told him how I felt, but he just brushes it off, like I’m overreacting."

There was a long pause before she spoke again, her voice soft. "I know he loves you. He may not show it the way you need right now, but I know he does. But if he’s not making you feel loved, if he’s not making you feel like you matter, you have to think about what’s best for you. You can’t keep giving and giving until there’s nothing left of yourself."

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest because they were the truth I hadn’t wanted to face. I couldn’t keep pouring everything I had into Trent if he wasn’t willing to meet me halfway.

"I don’t know what to do," I admitted, my voice breaking. "I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t keep living like this."

"No one can tell you what to do, love. Only you know what’s right for you. But whatever you decide, you deserve to be happy. Don’t settle for less than that."

That night, after talking to Trent’s mom, I lay in bed next to him, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on my chest. The silence between us was louder than ever, and for the first time, I wondered if this was how it was always going to be. If I was going to spend the rest of my life feeling like a ghost in my own relationship.

I thought back to the last time we’d had a real conversation—weeks ago, maybe more. I had asked for space, told him I needed some time to clear my head, to figure things out for myself. I had been so overwhelmed by everything then, but I thought that maybe stepping away, even for a little while, would make me feel better.

"I need to be alone for a bit," I had said quietly, standing in the doorway of our bedroom, my hand still gripping the edge of the doorframe.

He’d looked at me, his face unreadable, but nodded. "Take your time."

It had been a relief at first. I had gone for a long walk, let my thoughts run wild as I tried to make sense of what had been happening between us. I’d told myself that once I came back, we could figure things out, rebuild what had been crumbling.

But when I returned that night, the house had felt different. Colder. Like something essential had disappeared. And Trent… he wasn’t there in the way I needed him to be. Physically, yes, he was there. But emotionally, mentally? It was like he had already checked out. I had walked back into the same room, into the same life, but somehow, I was the one who felt lost.

Now, as I lay beside him, I could still feel that same emptiness between us. I rolled over, my back to him, blinking back tears as I whispered, "I miss you."

He didn’t respond. I don’t even think he heard me.

And that’s when I knew—I had taken a break, hoping to come back to something familiar, something that we could still fix. But instead, I had returned to someone who was already gone.

Weeks passed after that night. The silence between us only grew, consuming every corner of our relationship. I kept hoping—foolishly—that maybe something would change, that Trent would look at me the way he used to, or that he would finally notice the cracks that had been widening for months. But nothing came. No words, no apologies, no acknowledgment of the distance that had turned us from lovers into strangers.

One morning, I woke up and knew. It was like the weight of everything had finally sunk deep enough for me to let go. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep waiting for him to realize how much this was breaking me. So, I packed my things in silence. The room felt eerily calm, like it knew what was coming before I did.

Trent was at training, and for the first time, I was glad he wasn’t there. I didn’t have the strength to explain myself again, to beg for him to see me, to see us—the version of us that once existed. I left him a note on the bed, my hand trembling as I wrote the words that had been festering inside me for weeks.

"I can’t do this anymore. I gave you everything I had, but somewhere along the way, you stopped giving me anything back. I love you, Trent, but I love myself too much to keep breaking for someone who doesn’t even realize I’m shattered. Take care of yourself. Goodbye."

I walked out the door, my chest tight with pain, but for the first time in months, there was also a small sense of relief. I hadn’t felt this light in ages, even if it was paired with heartbreak. The hardest part was over. I was leaving.

"I guess this is it," I had said, my voice barely a whisper.

Now, weeks later, I sat in my new apartment, staring out the window as the city buzzed below. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe. The space around me was mine, filled with my own choices, my own life. But the ache in my chest was still there, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t quite healed.

It took time—too much time—but I finally realized something that had been staring me in the face all along. I had been waiting for him to notice me, to care enough to fight for us, but Trent had already made his choice. He’d been gone long before I ever walked out that door.

And now, after everything, I was the one who was finally gone. And for the first time in weeks, I realized… I wasn’t going to come back.

Then, one evening, while scrolling through my phone, I saw a text from a number I almost didn’t recognize anymore. It was Trent.

"I didn’t realize until now. You were gone, and I didn’t even notice. I’m sorry… for everything."

I stared at the message for a long time, feeling the tears pool in my eyes, but I didn’t reply. Because now, it was too late.

He had finally realized. But I was already gone.

[cuubism]

last year I saw this 1989 Dreamling art by @webonchin, became extremely obsessed with it, pondered and mulled over it for much time, and now ten whole months later I have a fic

--

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, 1989 Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Meeting, Musician Dream of the Endless, Stockbroker Hob Gadling, Love at First Sight, Getting Together, New York City, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Queer Themes, Disillusionment, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Depression, tfw you meet someone who makes you want to change up your whole life Summary:

Despite Hob's success on Wall Street, life is starting to feel meaningless. Limitless sex, drugs, and money should be endlessly entertaining but instead he's bored, he feels empty, like something's missing.

Something, maybe, like the beautiful, tragic musician he meets at a party, who opens more than one new door in Hob's life--and reawakens the buried longing in his heart.

--

Hob lies on the couch of the crowded apartment he’s found himself in for the evening, head tipped back over the arm. Pounding music thumps distantly around him. Dim lights. Warm bodies moving in blurs. He ignores it all. Picks up his vodka soda from the coffee table and takes a swig. Half of it runs over the side of his mouth instead of into it.

He’s… bored. What’s wrong with him that he’s bored surrounded by as much drugs, sex, and general debauchery as he could possibly want?

But he is. All that climbing for so long and now… he doesn’t know where he is. Why he’s doing any of it. The climb, the growth, was fun for a while. Chasing hunger, chasing more, that was fun. But now he has all of it. Supposedly.

He sighs. Pours the rest of his drink inelegantly into his mouth. If he wants another one he’s going to have to get up. He doesn’t really feel like getting up. He feels like merging himself with the couch instead.

The party spins on around him, as it always does. Not everyone’s feeling as burnt out on sex, drugs, and debauchery as Hob is.

He could go track down some coke, he thinks hazily. Someone here’ll have some. Maybe it would kick his energy back up.

He just feels kind of tired at the thought.

It says something bad about the point he’s reached in life that even cocaine isn’t doing it for him anymore.

“This is very dull,” says a low voice, and a man slumps down beside him, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. He tilts his head back, looking up at Hob. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah,” Hob says, and then does a double take as he catches a proper look at the man.

Christ but he’s gorgeous. Nothing like the men Hob would normally see at a thing like this—nothing like Hob himself—with their fashionable suits, slick hair, slicker smiles. This man is lithe and sprawling, like a wild predator, stark black and white lines, spiky hair, dark makeup, studs flowing down his ears like raindrops. Clever eyes. Long fingers clutching a cocktail that he doesn’t seem particularly interested in.

Hob is instantly fucked.

“I was promised good drugs and better sex and I’m bored on both counts,” the man continues. He takes a sip of his drink, and grimaces.

“That why you’ve come over here?” Hob asks. “Because I looked equally bored?”

“Exactly.” He offers the drink to Hob. “You should try this.”

Hob takes it. It’s… very blue. “What the hell is this?”

“There was a girl working the bar… very drunk. She said she would make me her ‘special potion.’”

That sounds… questionable. Hob takes a sip, and chokes. “Christ.”

“I witnessed her pour in vodka, Prosecco, and tequila. Blue Curaçao—for color, of course. And maraschino cherries.” He plucks one out of the glass by the stem—there are about seven of them total—and eats it.

“What the fuck.” The stuff’s revolting. Hob takes another sip. “That’s alcohol poisoning in a glass.”

“It’s been one of the better parts of the night,” the man says.

Hob returns the glass, and the man tosses more of the drink back, his throat working. Hob’s just drunk enough to not attempt to stop staring like a creep. He wants to ask him if he wants to get out of here, or even just to steal away into one of the many spare bedrooms—it wouldn’t be out of place at a party like this, hell, Hob could drag him into his lap on the fucking couch, everyone’s far too drunk to care—but propositioning this creature for a mere hookup feels like wearing an Italian suit to mud wrestle. What a waste of a perfectly-made thing.

How did something like this wind up at this party?

“Who’d you come in with?” he asks, as the man plucks another cherry from the glass and delicately bites it off the stem.

“Someone who gave me a rather mediocre blowjob after a show,” he says. “I suppose I thought I would find better here, but I was mistaken.”

“Fifty-fifty shot on that, I’d say,” Hob says. Based on personal experience. Sometimes mediocre is good enough. Sometimes sex, regardless of quality, is good enough. For a while it has been. He’s not so sure anymore.

“I dislike betting,” says the man. Then stretches up a limp hand to shake Hob’s. “If we are to commiserate, perhaps names are in order. I am Morpheus.”

Morpheus. What kind of name. Though he had said at a show. A performer of some kind? “Hob,” says Hob, shaking his hand despite the awkward angle.

“Greetings,” says Morpheus solemnly. “You are the first man I’ve met tonight who has not tried to impress me with inanities. I am indebted to you.”

Hob tips his head back against the arm of the couch again with a sigh. “Too tired for bullshit. What’ve people been saying to you, then?”

“I have been taught much,” Morpheus says seriously. “Thrice I have been ‘educated’ on the great promise of ‘mortgage-backed securities.’ The reactions to my disinterest ranged from offense to outright concern for my sanity.”

“I think they were just trying to get in your pants,” Hob tells him.

Morpheus frowns. “The finance lecture was not helping their case. In fact, with each passing minute, I became more aggressively repelled.”

Hob laughs. “You’re on Wall Street, baby,” he says. It comes out kind of slurred. “Only thing more important than the size of a man’s dick is the size of his portfolio.”

Morpheus hums in consideration. “Neither of those has a direct correlation to talent.”

“Try telling them that,” Hob says.

Morpheus sits up straighter against the couch, leaning his head on his arm to study Hob. “I suppose I should ask about yours.”

“You’re too pretty for me to be tacky like that,” Hob says honestly. Maybe he’s a bit more drunk than he thought.

“Am I?” Morpheus seems pleased.

“So pretty.”

“Hmm.” Morpheus rests his cheek on the couch cushion. The tips of his hair brush Hob’s hip. His eyes are so liquid in this light. Hob wonders if he’s hallucinating his existence.

He reaches out, mesmerized, to touch Morpheus’s hair. Morpheus doesn’t stop him. He lets Hob pet him, eyes falling shut. His hair is tacky on the ends with hair spray, but soft underneath.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Hob says, and Morpheus hums. “All those self-important stockbrokers trying to impress you with their convoluted financial instruments… they just want to hide that it’s all really a scam.”

“Is it now?” says Morpheus. “I was under the assumption it was legal.”

“Something can be a scam and technically legal. Oh, it’s all very clever. But it’s just building money on top of money with nothing real to support it. Kick out the base of the tower and it’ll all go into free fall.” He makes a whistling, falling sound, and Morpheus smirks.

“And I suppose you are better than all this.”

Hob chuckles. “Oh, no. I’m a money-grubbing little vermin, too. Just letting you in on the game. How it’s not so serious.”

“Hmm. I am a musician,” says Morpheus. As Hob figured, then. “I’m afraid it’s as serious as death.”

“Hence the all-black ensemble and the makeup,” Hob says.

“Indeed.”

Hob wants to hear Morpheus play. Or sing, or whatever it is he does. He bets he’d be exquisite. Divine. Hob can imagine those lips pressed to a microphone. Or those long fingers on guitar strings.

“Do you want something more interesting than alcohol?” says Morpheus.

“Why, you still bored?”

“Less and less so.” He pulls from his pocket a small bag of pills and hands it to Hob.

“You brought your own drugs to a party where you were promised drugs?”

“Promises cannot be counted on,” says Morpheus seriously.

“What is it?” Hob asks, then decides he doesn’t care, and takes a pill, chasing it with the watery last drops of his drink, which is a terrible idea, but then, he’s full of them.

“Ketamine,” says Morpheus. Oh, great, Hob thinks. Morpheus takes it back from him and takes a pill himself. “It occasionally makes me feel less like I am going to hurl myself from the balcony.”

He doesn’t seem to be joking. “Good for something, then,” Hob says. “Why do you want to jump off the balcony?” He still has his hand in Morpheus’s hair. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t propositioned him yet. That’s not like him. These parties are usually only good for quick, casual sex. He even thinks Morpheus would probably agree, and yet.

“The state of things,” says Morpheus. He has such a deep, solemn voice. Hob wants to touch his mouth, or throat maybe. Okay, this is already not going so well. “And the state of my heart.”

Hob pets his hair again. Morpheus leans into the touch. “Writing songs about yearning and angst and stuff isn’t fixing it?” He can well enough guess what Morpheus’s music is probably like.

“No,” says Morpheus. He seems to really think about it. “I think it is making things worse. Perhaps I will try manipulating the financial markets instead. Is that giving you existential fulfillment?”

“There’s only so much money you can make before it starts feeling stupid,” Hob says. Maybe he should just throw all his cash out the window and go live in the woods or something. Carve figurines out of fallen trees. Probably do more good for the world, not that that’s ever been a focus of his. “Maybe it was always stupid.”

“No solution has been found for us yet, then,” says Morpheus. “Would you care to go outside? I find that if you are high enough, the city lights look like stars.”

“You’re not going to jump off the balcony, are you?” Hob asks, suspicious.

“This is not the right locale for my dramatic end.”

Somehow, Hob actually believes him. Morpheus wouldn’t truly kill himself unless it could have the right effect.

Hob levers himself up from the couch. Oh Jesus, now the room is spinning. The pounding music is starting to feel louder, starting to thud through him. Feels good, though. Everything being bright and hazy.

He helps Morpheus to his feet. Leads him, hand in hand, out to the balcony. They lean against the stone wall, looking down at the street, dizzyingly far below, cars poking along like lines of luminescent ants, distant horns crying. Then up, out at the collision of skyscrapers.

Morpheus was right. The lights are spinning and twinkling, just like stars. It reminds Hob of the first time he’d come to New York, when he was looking for adventure, and to get a little rich—or a lot rich—and everything had seemed like it was glowing and buzzing and flying.

The air is clearer up here than down on street level, and Morpheus tips his head up, breathing it in. His throat is so long, his shoulders and collarbone so angular. He looks like he’s been starving. But the stud in his ear at least looks from afar like a real ruby. Intentional, then, to be skin and bones.

“I think I am tired,” he admits, still looking up at the sky. “Do you know that… all I had ever wanted was for someone to like my music. And now I have that and it has not fixed anything.”

Hob takes his arm and pulls him close. He’s feeling very touchy-feely now, which could be the drugs but could also just be Morpheus. He’s so pretty and he looks so sad, and his sadness is beautiful and all the more terrible for that.

“I could kiss it better,” he offers. It’s still not a real proposition. Hob’d just kiss his hand if that’s what he wanted. Or the sharp bone of his sternum under those hanging necklaces. Or kneel at his feet and kiss his thigh—

Christ. Hob’ll be lucky if he survives the night, at this rate.

Morpheus looks at him, eyebrow raised. But Hob must look serious about it, because he says, “Okay.”

So Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. And Morpheus smiles, a bright, truly happy smile, just for a moment.

“Do you wish to dance?” he says. “I do not usually, but I feel I may fall over if I move from this wall without something to hold onto.”

Yeah, the floor is kind of moving. And Hob will certainly not turn down having Morpheus in his arms. “You wanna dance to this shit?”

They’re playing some godawful thumping grating song over the speakers now, and Hob doesn’t think either of them is up to the kind of bouncing thrashing dance that would call for.

“I will sing something different in your ear,” Morpheus says.

So Hob draws him in, wraps his arms around his waist. Morpheus plasters himself to Hob’s body, mouth to the shell of Hob’s ear. He starts humming a low, melancholic song. Hob shivers at the brush of his voice.

They sway together with very little coordination. Eventually Morpheus starts singing, though Hob’s brain isn’t capable at the moment of taking in many of the lyrics. It’s something about longing, and losing things in a terrible fire. Hob presumes it’s one of his songs. Morpheus’s voice is gorgeous, low and hypnotic, and Hob closes his eyes as it rumbles straight through him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs eventually, filled with a sudden tragic pain about it. “Please don’t throw yourself off the balcony.”

Morpheus chuckles. “Another time, perhaps.”

“Never,” Hob says vehemently, and clutches his warm body close. He might cry about it. Fucking drugs. “We should go get food. You’re so fucking bony I think might you die of an overdose if we don’t sop it up. You had that wretched drink, too. Christ.”

“You are worried for me?” says Morpheus, sounding touched.

“Incredibly. Come on.” Hob finally pulls away from him, with chagrin, and takes his hand. “This party’s shit. I’ll take you to get pizza.”

“Pizza,” Morpheus repeats, with a tiny smile. It’s gorgeous on his face. “Very well.”

--

One dollar pizza is one of New York’s greatest inventions, in Hob’s opinion. They find some hole-in-the-wall place barely a block from the apartment building, and stand outside the door, eating incredibly greasy pizza off of paper plates, and it’s fucking heaven. It might be the best pizza Hob’s ever had in his life—granted he’s still very high.

Morpheus is scarfing his down like all pizza on earth is about to be chucked into space. Poor bony thing. Hob just wants to feed him up until he stops looking like a skeletal waif that’s about to drop dead at a cold breeze.

And wants to fuck him, too. Yeah, that’s still there, even with Morpheus licking grease off his fingertips. It’s actually getting worse because of that.

“Told you,” Hob says. “Needed some bread to soak up the fifteen shots in that drink.”

“I think I may throw up,” Morpheus says, with the careful articulation of someone who very well might. “But I am enjoying it nonetheless.”

“Let me know and I’ll find you a bin,” Hob says. He’s had worse nights than puking on the street corner.

“Now I owe you sexual favors in return for this generous meal,” says Morpheus, folding the empty paper plate with surprising precision, considering his enduring level of intoxication, and sliding it into a nearby trash bin.

It says something about Hob’s own level of intoxication that he barely responds to this statement. “Oh, yeah, the whole four dollars of it. What does that get me?”

Morpheus scrunches his nose in thought. “Two kisses,” he decides.

“We’ll save it for after you’ve decided if you’re going to throw up.”

Morpheus giggles. He’s so cute.

Hob tosses his own plate, and takes Morpheus by the arm. “Come on. You can come back with me. I don’t live that far.”

“Ah, now the proposition,” says Morpheus, but doesn’t sound unhappy about it.

“The ‘make sure my new friend doesn’t get hit by a cab effort’, more like, but sure.” He feels kind of responsible for Morpheus now. If Morpheus actually threw himself off a balcony Hob would never forgive himself.

“Friend,” repeats Morpheus, sounding pleased.

“See, isn’t this better?” Hob says.

“Better?”

“You got to eat pizza and didn’t even puke yet, isn’t that better than killing yourself?”

Morpheus huffs. “Quite a dichotomy. If you recall you too stated that you felt your efforts becoming meaningless.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna jump out a window about it.”

“Fortitude,” Morpheus says, and it sounds mocking but Hob doesn’t really mind. Maybe it is fortitude, he doesn’t know. Maybe to Morpheus fortitude is gullibility, continuing to play the game when it’s long lost its spark and its reward. Hob likes the game, though.

“What will you do about it, then?” Morpheus asks.

“Dunno.” It’s the first time Hob’s really thought about it. Up until now, it’s been about chasing. Always wanting more. But now— now he’s basically at the top. Where he wanted to be. And... there’s really nothing there at all. “Leave New York, maybe.”

The words surprise him, even as he says them. Midtown is so bright, even at four a.m. It’s something Hob once loved about the area. About the city. But now he’s staring into Morpheus’s darkness. Into the ink stain of his hair against the glowing storefront lights, the sway of his body, graceful even while swimming in dissociation. And everything feels different.

“To go where?” says Morpheus.

“Back to London, maybe.” He has enough money to go anywhere. And yet, it’s hard to feel a particular point to anywhere. Where’d his sense of adventure go? His ambition? Somewhere it all slipped, in the glut of the present.

“I grew up in London,” Morpheus says. “It is too personal there, now.”

So he’s chasing something too. Or running away.

“Tokyo, then,” Hob says, as if Morpheus coming with him is a key part of the decision. “Is’at the furthest city from New York? Gotta be close.”

“It’s Perth,” says Morpheus.

“You’ve looked it up?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. “And from London: Wellington.”

“It’s settled, then,” says Hob.

“I am coming with you?” says Morpheus.

“Course.” Hob’s not going across the world by himself. Not anymore. He bumps his shoulder with Morpheus’s, squeezes his arm where they’re leaning together. “You’re coming with me.”

“We should go further, then,” says Morpheus.

“Antarctica?”

“Mars.”

Hob finds himself giggling, mirth rising in him like champagne bubbles. Morpheus giggles, too. It’s truly a ridiculous sound in his deep voice.

“They don’t have cool jackets on Mars,” Hob says, poking at Morpheus’s studded blazer.

“Ah.” Morpheus frowns. “Maybe not, then.”

That only makes Hob laugh louder, leaning on Morpheus’s arm, and Morpheus sighs, irritated to be made fun of, but doesn’t push him away.

“Come on, I’m here,” Hob says, steering Morpheus into his apartment building as it comes up. They make their way across the lobby and to the elevator bank, only a little unsteady, and then slump against the wall once the elevator doors close.

“I think I am very sleepy,” Morpheus says, tipping his head back against the mirrored wall as they go up, up, up the insanely tall skyscraper Hob’s for some reason chosen to live in.

“You think you are?”

Morpheus squints at the infinite tunnel being created by the opposing mirrors on the walls. It’s dizzying, more so now, when they aren’t exactly sober. He shudders and closes his eyes. “I would have to be connected to my physical form to know for sure.”

Yeah, Hob’s feeling that too. The walls are kind of tipping in at him, which is particularly uncomfortable when they’re mirrored. “I’ll put you to bed, sweetie.” He still really, really wants to bed him, more specifically, but he might also be about to fall over. He’ll rue the missed opportunity in the morning, but it can’t be helped.

“Sweetie,” Morpheus echoes, with vague distaste, and tips his head against Hob’s shoulder.

The doors slide open, and they stumble out into the hall. Hob somehow manages to get his keys in the door and get them inside without dropping Morpheus, who’s now using him to support almost his entire weight, and then gets them into the bedroom.

What follows is a dreamlike whirlwind of undressing, where the floor keeps tipping under him, where he tries to hold Morpheus up as he slips out of his boots and his bloody complicated jacket, his skintight jeans and even tighter shirt, helps take each ring off his slim fingers to leave carefully on the nightstand, and the pendants too, and gives him a t-shirt to sleep in, and Morpheus says, “Wait— I must—” and flees to Hob’s adjoining bathroom to strip off his makeup with some makeup wipes scavenged from Hob’s cabinet, undoubtedly left behind by a prior hookup. The silly thing talks about killing himself but still puts effort into skincare. Hob just shakes his head, then regrets it as it makes the room spin.

He strips down to boxers and undershirt and climbs into bed, because he is actually about to fall over, and soon enough Morpheus stumbles back out and collapses into the sheets beside him. For a moment they just gaze at each other in the dark. Hob means to do something, to kiss him, maybe, claim one of the ones that was promised. But exhaustion claims him first. 

[wilcze-kudly]

Someone once said Aang and Katara’s romantic interactions have no impact on their relationship. Which I find a ridiculous notion, given how

One: The Series genuinely wasn’t built around romance.

Two: We do gradually see the characters develop feelings for each other more across the show.

https://www.tumblr.com/melu-lis/762094698681745408/one-of-the-most-baffling-thing-about-kataang-to-me?source=share

Honestly, the fact that Katara and Aang's relationship has that strong aspect of friendship is one of my fave parts of it.

Like, maybe this is an unpopular opinion and I'm just a degenerate little dyke but I'm so so tired of romances having to follow the typical usually heterosexual conventions that have been set ib place both irl and in media.

And not to sound like an old man shaking my fist at a cloud, but in an era where romance is very standardised (look at the plethora of YA romance books selling basically the same plotline but in different aesthetics). It's nice to find a relationship that doesn't fully fit that mold.

Like people have joked about this but Aang and Katara really do follow the famously memed lesbian relationship stereotype of "we've been besties for ages and we've kissed a few times and she's said she loves me and I'm starting to think she's into me but idk". And I love that for them.

Also OP's examples aren't really saying much. They mention that "sokka learns that aang has a crush on katara in the fortuneteller, but we never see aang trying to get advice from sokka after he learns about it" while disregarding the fact that Aang did try to get advice from Sokka, and it backfired. Did we all forget "Soooo... papaya?" (also Sokka didn't realise that Aang had a crush on Katara? He thought Aang had a crush on Meng.)

Another argument from OP is that: "aang and katara kiss in the cave of two lovers but we never see katara's perception of aang change at all" which I find a bit of a flawed idea because there's not really anything in Katara's perception of Aang to change? Like she was already seeing him as a viable romantic partner from at least the Fortune Teller, she was blushing when considering kissing him and offended when he didn't immediately agree to it.

(I actually think this is the moment where Sokka realises there's something between Katara and Aang man look athis face.)

We do not see Katara's pov, but we can pick up her thoughts from how she's animated and other clues because atla makes it quite easy to emphasise with its characters. I talk more about it in the Kaatang and female gaze post.

OP using the description of "natural development of a platonic relationship becoming a romantic one" is also mildy annoting because just because a romance doesn't follow established conventions and timelines, doesn't mean that it's not natural or badly written. We study tropes and aechetypes usually in order to subvert them.

The concept that romance has to be a series of events followed by switches flipping automatically in response is incredibly limiting and, frankly, overdone. I can see the appeal of romantic stories being a series of actions and reactions between two people, but I personally find a slow, budding development even more compelling. But once again, thsi is up to preference. If OP doesn't like this style of romance, than that's fine. Though I will stress the golden rule: your preference doesn't mean that everything else is bad/unnatural/unethical etc.

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 23

Masterlist

Summary: A special day for y/n is just around the corner and her boys are trying to make it the best she's ever had.

Trigger Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI,hurt and comfort, injuries, mention of past bad relationship, a tiny little bit steamy but not really smut

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: I took me soooo long to get this chapter out, work was crazy and I had so much to do that I didn't find the time to write. I'm not happy with this chapter, not at all. It's just a small filler but it has to be done. The next chapter is going to be smutty!

A warm nearly hot feeling is enveloping Jake's chest when he wakes up from his nap. Slowly coming to and getting more awareness of his surroundings he starts to feel a vibration beside him. No, no vibration but shivering. Memories of the previous events flood his mind, y/n giving her statement, exhausted from reliving the memories of Welsh's attack, his girlfriend being afraid that they don't believe her, him cuddling with her on the couch and finally falling asleep. He opens his eyes and sees the source of the vibration against his chest. Y/n is violently shivering, her teeth nearly chattering. Jake peels his hands away from the young woman's back and wander higher up until he rests one hand on her neck. She is burning up. The blonde aviator softly cups her face which is pressed against his chest and tilts her head back to get a look at her face. Beats of sweat had already formed on her forehead. Even not awake y/n looks like she is in distress, in pain during her sleep.

"Y/n? Hey sweet cupcake…" Jake strokes over flushed cheeks, trying to rouse her as softly from her nap as possible. He is greeted with a small moan which is immediately followed by a painful whimper when his girlfriend tries to pry open her tired eyes. The light which filters through the living room windows is way too bright for her head which seems like having a raging tornado inside. She fists Jake's shirt into her hands to distract herself from the pain radiating through her body.

"Hey my girl. Did you sleep well?" Jake asks in a loving voice admiring the beauty of his girlfriend even with sweat coating her forehead and her cheeks flushed from her fever. The blonde pilot places a cautious kiss on her lips. He would have never believed that he ever feels so much love for a woman let alone for Rooster. But here he is, madly in love with his roommate and friend and this wonderful woman in his arms.

He gets slightly concerned when he doesn't get a real answer from y/n, she must be feeling really bad.

"Your fever is back, y/n. I think you're ready for some more painkillers and something for that temperature of yours."

Bradley is brought out of his thoughts when he hears soft mumbling coming from the living room area. He just talked to Maverick over the phone who gave him some interesting information about both Fillon and Welsh.

He stands up from his seated position at their dining table and makes his way over to his partners, who are still huddled on the couch.

He crouches down beside the sofa cringing when his eyes land on the huge bruise on y/n's lower back where her, well his shirt, has ridden up. He exchange a concerned look with Jake who is already fully alert, cuddling their violently shaking girlfriend into his chest.

"Hey, welcome back." Bradley says before he kisses y/n head, inhaling her sweet scent. A soft 'Roo-y' can be heard but it's muffled by Jake's chest.

"What about you two, my sleepyheads, stand up now and I'm going to make us something to eat. You must be hungry." Bradley suggests while drawing patterns between y/n's shoulder blades.

---

Y/n was desperate for a shower, to rinse away the remaining memories of the disastrous interrogation she endured by the two Lieutenants of the military police. When the painkillers finally set in and took the edge away she gave Jake her best puppy dog eyes to convince him that she is fit enough to take a shower.

So here she is, clinging to Jake's wet body in the shower of the master bathroom. Droplets of lukewarm water cascading his muscular body. Goosebumps are littering her feverish body. The two conditions her boyfriends gave her were that she is not going to shower alone, which was no problem for her, she loves to shower with one or even better with both of the pilots, but the second condition is much more difficult for her. She has to take a nearly cold shower to help lowering her temperature. Even after taking her medication her body is still not able to fight the raging fever completely.

Two strong hands are massaging her scalp, washing her hair and soothing her headache. Y/n leans her body further into Jake's chest feeling his strong body deliciously close to hers.

"Baby, when you come any closer I can't restrain myself anymore." Jake chuckles into her ear, intensifying the goosebumps littering her body even more and now not because of the cold water but because she can feel Jake's member poking into her abdomen.

Butterflies are raging a storm in her body when she traces pattern on the blonde aviator's muscular chest while his fingers massaging the conditioner into her hair.

Y/n places soft kisses right above Jake's heart. She loves her two boyfriends unconditionally and this fact just manifests only more when she realizes how both take care of her without claiming something back from her.

"Gonna wash this out, it's getting a bit colder now, baby." Jake whispers into y/n's ear when he finishes massaging her scalp and before he starts to rinse her hair with the hand shower.

A small yelp tumbles out of y/n's mouth when more lukewarm water hits her head. She stumbles another step into Jake and his warmer Body, grabbing his hips to steady herself.

The cold water and the uncomfortableness is soon forgotten when she can feel his semi hard member now much better with no distance between them.

Jake looks down and is greeted with a mischievous but cute grin from his girlfriend.

When her right hand slowly wanders from its secure place on Jake's left hip right to his sensitive cock, Jake hisses and closes his eyes from arousal. But soon he catches the wandering hand placing it back on his chest.

"You feel that? You're going to be the death of me…" He chuckles while holding her hand in place to show her his rapidly beating heart. The blonde pilot takes her other hand and slowly lead it up to his face until his lips touching y/n's fingertips, slowly kissing all five digits of her left hand.

---

Enveloped in a fluffy and preheated bath towel Jake hoists y/n up onto the bathroom counter, a soft giggle escaping her when she drops her gaze on the small towel around Jake's hips. The small fabric clearly struggling to shield his still hard member from her prying eyes.

"I see you two had your fun?" Bradley asks in a playful strict tone when he steps into the master bathroom finding both his partners still not dressed.

When his gaze lands on the slightly flushed cheeks of the blonde aviator he is afraid that he too is sick now, that his cheeks are also flushed with fever. But soon he realized the real reason for Jake's bright red cheeks.

"This little vixen, too sick to help with the household, but fit enough to touch her nurse inappropriate." Jake says in playful banter, glad that both his partners are laughing, forgetting the stress of the previous days just for a small moment.

"Well, I can't blame her for that," the brunette softly laying his arm around y/n's smaller frame, "who doesn't want to touch a naked Jake Hangman Seresin?"

---

The following week was an up and down for y/n. There's still no sign of Welsh. Him being out there makes the young woman nervous. Is he out there watching them? Is he over the hills and long gone or is he coming back for revenge? Especially now that Lieutenant Fillon told the whole story he has with Welsh, y/n is certain that the psycho is going to make an appearance. The only question is when.

Her physical recovery is still taking slow. Some days she feels better than others. Over the last days she gained some more energy to even wander around in the house. On other days she feels like a train hit her. Even if she knows what side-effects her bruised kidney can cause such as pain, fever and blood in her urine, one night she was shocked to see the amount of blood in the toilet. She knew she didn't drink enough water that day and the amount of pain she was in during the trip to the toilet in the middle of the night made that very clear.

On shaky legs she finished her business but her strength was soon completely exchanged with excruciating pain spreading from her lower back into all fibers of her body. Sitting on the floor making herself as small as possible is how Bradley found her after he stared for several minutes at the rays of light from under the closed bathroom door which illuminated his bedroom.

His concerns only grew when more than ten minutes went by without any audible movement behind the closed door. So he tiptoed into the bathroom without waking Jake up and found their girlfriend in a concerning condition.

Y/n was more than ashamed that she once again disturbed one of her boyfriends' sleep.

Fortunately she was able to avoid a trip to the hospital and during the following days she got some of her energy back.

---

"Baby! Babygirl!...Y/N!" Jake softly stops his girlfriend from swirling her way further around the living room. It's two weeks since she has been released from the hospital into the care of her overprotective boyfriends. As much as she loves both of them after 14 days of them pampering her, she is bored out of her mind. So she made the decision to clean the living room, even if it was spotless thanks to Jake and Bradley, just to feel somewhat useful.

Y/n sneaks around the living area when both her partners are hitting the home gym, she finally could convince them that it is absolutely not necessary to keep her under observation 24/7, especially under the aspect that one of them will be back at work at the base rather than staying at home writing instructions for their recruits.

"I just wanted to tidy up the living room a bit." She says while Jake softly turns her smaller body around to face her completely. Tomorrow their friends, the whole Dagger Squad, are showing up, it's y/n's birthday and Natasha would've gone feral if either Jake or Bradley would've refused her to come and visit her friend. Y/n was able to convince both her boyfriends that they should invite their whole friend group. Because of her being injured Jake and Bradley are in great need to forget the stress for one moment and being with all their friends and colleagues will be the perfect arrangement, at least if you ask y/n.

Jake lowers his gaze to catch his girlfriend's sparkling eyes, a loving grin on his face.

"Cupcake, it's spotless in the living room. Heck, the house is spotless. Bradley and I did the whole cleaning yesterday, remember?"

"Just wanted to be helpful, useful. I feel like," the young woman looks down to the floor, the fluffy carpet in front of their sofa seems to be much more interesting as the man in front of her, "-feel like I'm useless. You two did so much for me. Not just after the- the incident, but in general. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/n lets out a long and frustrated breath.

Jake tilts her head up, softly stroking his pointer finger under her chin.

"Y/n, my love. You're the most important thing in our life. Don't you ever think that you have to pay us back." Y/n shrieks when suddenly the blonde aviator sweeps her up, his hands under her bum. The young woman embraces her legs around Jake's midsection while he searches for her plump lips.

---

Y/n feels a gentle tickling on the soft flesh of her neck. A warm hand strokes wisps of her silky hair out of the way. Soon she feels warm lips covering her neck in kisses a sweet 'happy birthday, Princess' is whispered into her ear. She smiles into her pillow, enjoying the morning cuddles of one of her boyfriends. She stretches one arm out but is greeted with a cold bedside. Jake seems to be long up, fortunately Bradley is still with her in bed. The young woman rolls over to greet the brunette pilot properly by placing her hands on his warm chest stealing a kiss from his delicious looking lips. She lets out a shy moan when his mustache tickles her upper lip.

"How did our birthday girl sleep?" Bradley mumbles against her slightly opened lips.

A shiver runs down her spine when she feels his arms tightening around her to bring her closer to his muscular body. She can feel his warm skin on hers, his muscles flexing when he starts to stroke his hands over her back, cautious not to touch her still prominent bruise.

The door to Bradley's bedroom, in which the three often sleep together, creaks open. Y/n breaks away from Bradley's lips to raise her head from the comfy pillow.

Like a Greek God Jake stands in the doorway. The bright light from the living area envelopes him like a halo. In his right hand he balances a small cake with a white silky looking cream sprinkled with colorful dots like small confetti, a single candle already lighted up. In his other hand he carries a suspicious looking  turquoise gift bag.

The blonde bare chested aviator makes his way over to the empty side of the spacious bed, deposits the gift bag on the nightstand to secure the cake with the burning candle in both his hands when he crawls his way over to y/n.

"Happy Birthday, y/n!" Jake breathes out in a quiet voice, keeping the calm in the bedroom. The young woman sits up snuggling her back into the brunettes chest.

"Make a wish, Princess." Bradley whispers into y/n's ear, catching all her loose hair into his hand to help her lean forward towards the cute looking birthday cake.

---

She can't remember one birthday which was so filled with love and affection than this one today. More than a spiteful and hateful 'happy birthday' she has never gotten from Michael, her ex. When she is honest the most prominent memory of one of her birthday is five years ago. Michael was in an extraordinary bad mood this day and it only gotten worse when he found y/n in the small kitchen baking a cake for her colleagues at work. A small amount of flour was spread across on the kitchen tiles when the man entered the kitchen. It ended with y/n sporting a broken rib and painful burn on her hand when he forced her to get the cake out of the oven without any protection such as an oven mitt.

Today is entirely different, the three of them shared a big piece of cake while still cuddling in bed together, laughing and chatting the morning away.

A small tear is making its way down y/n's cheek, soon followed by more. A steady stream of salty tears drips into her lap when she stares at the present in her hand.

The cool material in her hand reflecting the rays of light which filter through the curtain. Y/n traces the heart shaped pendant with the pointer finger of her other hand. A small diamond framed with the well-known 'Return to Tiffany & Co." decorates the silvery material.

"Turn the heart around cupcake." Jake puts his under y/n's shaking one. Embedded on the backside she finds their three initials.

A load sob tumbles out of her mouth when she first looks into Jake's eyes and then turns around to look at the other pilot.

"This- this is too much…" She stumbles over her words. This the most expensive, most beautiful present she has ever gotten.

---

The light mood which spreads in every corner of their shared house is nearly physical palpable. Y/n never have thought that she would ever have such a fun birthday with friends and all the people she loves and more important people who love her. Phoenix brought a huge helium filled balloon and the guys each brought a nice bouquet of y/n's favorite flowers. Bradley was the designated chef, grilling burgers, steaks and vegetables for his friends.

After a very nice sunset which they all enjoyed watching on the cozy deck of the three's garden the cold wind picks up, creating a deep chill in y/n's bones, so that she was thankful when Jake suggested to go inside and huddle in the living room together.

This was the longest time the young woman was on up and about for nearly two weeks and she can already feel the exhaustion spreading through her body. But despite her feeling more and more drained she doesn't want to let the good time end. When she is sure that she can't stifle the next yawn she makes her way into the kitchen to start the dishwasher.

---

"I guess we should hit the road. Our birthday girl can't keep her eyes open any longer." Phoenix speaks in a hushed voice. She knows that y/n would never kick them out even in pain or being utterly exhausted. So one by one envelopes their friend in a tight hug, silently thanking God that she seems to be on her way to recovery.

"Thanks for coming. Seeing you all was the best present…"

---

"Okay Princess, time to hit the pillow." Bradley says while he envelopes his girlfriend in a tight hug, embracing her smaller body completely into his. Y/n looks up into the pilot's warm brown eyes, slowly stroking her pointer finger over his plump lips.

Feeling her soft finger dancing over his lips, Bradley can't stop the moan which tumbles out of his mouth. In a strong but nor painful grip he catches y/n's hand and lowers his head to place a kiss on his girlfriend's waiting lips. It's now y/n's turn to let out a shy moan when she feels another set of strong yet soft hands caressing her back.

"Making out without me?" The woman feels Jake's hot breath against the shell of her ear.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

@nerdgirljen

@abaker74

@crazyunsexycool

@itsarabellebabes

@lyn-js

@bibissparkles

@kneelforloki

@gg-trini

[jillsandwhichs]

RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 7 , Gentle Mornings

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Chris Redfield (RE6)

Summary: Chris wakes you up and surprises you with breakfast in bed. And if that wasn't enough, he fucks you against the kitchen counter : D

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Dating

WC: 2.6k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Kissing, Dirty talk, Clit rubbing, You cum on his fingers, Kitchen sex, Unprotected PiV, Spanking, Hair pulling, He finishes inside of you

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

"Wake up beautiful."

You could hear the deep voice faintly, you knew it was Chris. You are so tired though, more sleep'll do you good. You could lay in this comfy bed forever and be content, but alas.

"Sweetheart, get up." Chris said softly.

You could feel his gentle big hand caressing your upper arm-it made you feel all warm inside. Chris is very physically affectionate, which you love. Being touched is something you also enjoy, more-so than being the toucher. Chris is like a bear-he's large and cuddly. "Baby, I'd love for you to open your eyes." At this point, you were being stubborn and you could tell just by his tone that he knew. "Don't make me make you." He teased, patting your butt.

Ultimately, you opened your eyes.

"Hi." You chuckled, sitting up and adjusting to the light in the bedroom. The curtains were spread apart, the light was on and the TV was on too-all so glimmery. "Hey princess, good morning." Chris laughed, stroking a few pieces of loose hair from out of your face. "Did you sleep good?" "I did. I slept very good actually." "Good." Chris smirked, leaning in and kissing your cheek gently. He is in such a good mood, it's odd. Of course, he always tries to be positive but this is just weird, especially considering it's... You checked the clock. Nine in the morning...

Analyzing the room, you noticed a tray of food set on the white dresser the two of you share. You were curious as to what it was.

"What's that baby?" "Oh, the food? Well baby," He stood up and grabbed the tray carefully, scared it may tip over just by one wrong move. "I made you breakfast." Chris said kindly, sitting on the edge of the bed once again. Did he really? How sweet of him. The only other time he's ever done this was on Christmas a few months back. "Sweetie, really?" You spoke in awe-he is truly the best. "Thank you. Why though?" You tittered, picking up the fork-you were ready to dig in. "Just thought you deserved it." He whispered, caressing your lower leg.

The plate had all sorts of goodies on it. Toast, eggs, fruit and sausage, it looked amazing. You were still somewhat confused as to why Chris suddenly decided to do this for you but either way, the gesture is out of this world.

You are excited to eat. Funnily enough, you are starving first thing when you wake up since you don't eat before bed, it's as if he read your mind. "Just eat up honey, I'll be out in the living room, okay?" "Alright." You gave him a quick nod as you took a bite of the steaming, smokey meat. Chris grinned, he was glad you were happy. "Good, love you." Chris pressed a kiss to your small nose before exiting your guy's shared bedroom. "I love you as well." You shouted, making sure he could hear you good.

You'd eat then go see him, that's the plan. You began to eat as fast as you could, you now just wanted to spend your morning with him before he has to leave for work at ten.

-

The breakfast he made you was immaculate. Chris is an amazing cook, definitely better than you are. You finished it rather quickly too, surprisingly. All that was left on your plate was a couple scrambled eggs but other than that, it was totally clean.

You hopped up out of bed with a grunt & a yawn-you were still pretty tired. Plate in hand, you walked out of the bedroom.

Down the hall, you could see Chris. He was just sitting on the couch, checking out one of his stupid man magazines that he gets weekly. He noticed you were done and whistled, seeing you walk out in just your shirt and panties. "Hey hot stuff." He teased, tossing the magazine down and getting up off of the couch. "Hi." You smiled from afar, setting your plate down in the empty sink-he even did the dishes!

Ambling towards you, you couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. His face tucked itself into the crook of your neck. He placed soft, warm kisses all along it. "Mmm, I love you." What has him in this type of mood today? "I love you so much but Chris, why are you being like this?" You chortled, setting your hands on top of his, his were resting on your lower tummy. "Because I love you, is that an issue? Can I not love my girlfriend?" Such an ass.

"Babe, don't be dense," You snorted, "Trust me, I love this, you just usually aren't this lovey dovey, that's all." "Well I'm feeling it today." His kisses moved to the back of your ear. You can't deny it, it's turning you on deep down.

As he kissed all over your face from behind, you felt his large hands begin to trail downwards. The shirt you are wearing is oversized and long, but you knew he'd continue. Once his finger tips were just above the waistband of your panties, he stopped and whispered, "Can I?" Um, of course he can.

"Mhm." You mumbled. Your hands were holding onto his wrists, you didn't know where else to place them. With a groan, you felt his hand slide down the outside of your panties. His thick fingers were right above your covered clit. You were wet and you knew he could tell. "So soaked for me, hmm?" He whispered in your kiss, planting more kisses onto it. "Mhm." You giggled, your breath shuttered as he pressed down onto your nub. "I wanna fuck you so hard right now." He growled.

You two literally fucked last night, he is such a teenage boy. "Did you not get it out of your system last night?" "Oh I did, but you build it back up so easily." Chris chuckled. He began to slowly rub your clit through your panties. His fingers are magical. "Oh." You seethed. Your head tossed back as he caressed your clit quickly. "Feels good?" "Yeah..." You whimpered. It was hard to keep your eyes off of his hand. It was fascinating-how he would please you.

"You gonna cum for me baby?" That condescending tone he gets when he knows he is ruining you. "Shut up." You huffed out, earning a snicker out of him. "You know I'm just messing with you."

Chris rubbed it even faster. Your legs were shaking already. Your clit felt like it was going to explode. That inevitable firey feeling in your stomach was evident, it was burning-a burning passion for Chris. The breakfast in bed, the dishes being done and his loveyness? Yeah. It was no surprise he was also going to wind up fucking you.

A few more caresses-and it was your undoing. You loudly moaned, your legs shaking and your back arching automatically. Chris hummed, kissing the back of your head a couple times as you came just by him stroking you. "That's my girl." He commended you, enjoying how fast you finished for him.

Suddenly, you squealed as he bent you over the kitchen counter. You've never fucked in a kitchen before, this is new. "What're you doing?" You questioned him. The sound of his fly being pulled down was heard. "Fucking you, what does it look like?" Chris chuckled, bringing his hand to your ass and squeezing it. You giggled and simply rested your head against the cold, polished counter.

You bit your lip seductively. It's so early in the morning, how could he possibly be in the mood already? You aren't complaining though. You could feel him pulling your panties down your legs til he left them at your ankles-a hard slap then came to your ass. You could hear him pulling his sweatpants down as well, he was wasting absolutely no time. "I'll be gentle, at least at first." Chris teased. You giggled. He knows how to make you laugh.

Chris's hand went to your ass, gripping onto it for support. Chris has a love for your ass, he's always been more of a butt guy. "Mmm." You heard him moan out from behind you. You knew he wasn't going to waste any more time-foreplay was non-existent.

You could hear his hand pumping his cock. He gets turned on so easily. You remember the time you simply walked out in a messy ponytail and a pajama set and not even a minute later, he was deep inside of you. You two fucked very early on into your relationship-its not surprise it happens so often in your relationship.

"You sure I can?" "Yes baby." You chuckled, spread your legs slightly more, wanting him inside of you already. You could hear him whisper something beneath his breath. It sounded like he said "Fuck." But it was hard to tell. Chris is absolutely enthralled by you. He's obsessed with you, just as you are with him. You felt his tip tease your entrance-instantly arousing you furthermore. "Oh." You winced. You were fighting the urge to push yourself into him.

With his hand on your ass, the other around his dick, you moaned softly as he entered you. Your body accepted him with grace. The way you wrapped around him directly after said so much. You were made for him-that is how you feel at least. "My God," Chris hummed, both hands squeezing your rear. "You're so damn tight." Those words are like music to your ears. You didn't really know how to respond. Dirty talk has never necessarily been your forte. "You feel good." You whispered whilst nestling your head against your arms.

Feeling him felt like heaven. He's not too long nor too big, he's just right. You've missed this-despite it only being a literal day since you two made love.

Chris began to pull out of you. He was slow with it. He dragged it out so long. "Chris." You whined. Feeling every single inch slip out of you was tortuous. You just wanted him to rail you-hard. All you got in response was a snicker. He's such a prick sometimes. A sexy one though.

Once his tip was practically out of you, he slammed back into you. Your entire body was shoved into the counter, causing you to wince. Both of his hands held onto your waist firmly. Each thrust was exuberant. You loved how he used you. His pleasure meant everything to you. You can't get enough of the idea of him being fulfilled. He deserves it. His hands caressed your midriff with each movement.

All you could do was relax and let him use your pretty little pussy as he pleases.

Your head was resting against your cold arms-the counter being even cooler. Each time he pounded into you, your hood thrusted against the counter. While it wasn't the most pleasant feeling, the feeling of him being buried inside of you countered it out. He's so good at this. He's always been practically a God at fucking you. He makes you cum way to easily.

"Baby." You moaned, your eyes closing and mouth becoming permanently agape. You felt a wack come to your ass as his speed increased, along with the power of his movements. He is already leaking inside of you. You could feel his member twitching, just begging for that lovely release. Making love like this, oh it'll never get old. "Just keep taking it, princess." He muttered. His fingers were slowly yet surely making their way up your back, trailing ever so slowly.

"I can't..." He stammered. "I cannot get over how good you feel, God, you're soaked." He huffed out. You began to push yourself against him, therefore he wouldn't be the only one working. You heard him grunt & moan. It felt good to know you could please him just as he does with you.

For a moment, you could tell he quit his movements. Now, it was all you. You pushed your ass up against his man hood, moving and twisting in all sorts of ways, just attempting to bring him closer to his peak. You wanted to make him feel all sorts of ways. "You are so sexy." You heard him mumble. His deep, scratchy voice has always been so attractive. "Say more." You moaned. You wish you could be staring at him in this very moment. You wanted to see his face as you made him moan & grunt and overall made him feel perfect.

"I love you."

"I needed this."

"You're so pretty, baby."

Gosh.

Everything he said just made you feel euphoric.

As you felt his hand nuzzle itself into your hair, you whimpered. With a tug and a thrust, he was suddenly fucking you like literally never before. He was holding your hair tightly. Your head being forced backwards, all you could do was let it happen. It felt so good. He was moving so fast now, so hard too. "Good girl." Chris whispered. You could tell just admiring you. Taking the sight of you in. You were his drink and he was dehydrated. He needed this just as much as you did.

You could feel how deep he was inside of you.

Each pump, you felt like he was bruising your insides. His girth brushed against your clenched walls. The movements brought you closer and closer with stroke. You needed to release. It was becoming way too much.

"I'm gonna cum." You panted out. You could feel it-your orgasm stirring up inside of you. "Cum for me baby." Chris grunted. His free hand came down and squeezed your ass before smacking it-that was what finished you off.

Arching your back even more than before, you whimpered quietly as you came all around it. Your fluids coated the entire base of his dick. "Fuck." Chris chuckled, caressing your rear. "Such a dirty girl." The way he spoke, so intense & sexy. "I'm gonna cum too." Chris moaned.

He let go of your hair, allowing you some freedom. You held yourself up now, both arms resting on the counter to uplift you. His head went to the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath on your throat-it was hot and he was close. "Gonna cum so deep inside of you." "Oh." You moaned, tossing your head back slightly, feeling him plunge into you at a non-human rate.

He did not lie.

Shortly after, you felt his semen shoot inside of you. Right as he came, he simply stilled inside of you. It felt so interactive, so pleasurable. "Mmm, dear Lord." He snickered. He kissed your neck a few times, breathing in your intoxicating, feminine scent. "That feel good?" "So good." You giggled.

Chris pulled out of you and immediately grasped you, holding you up. It's like he knew. Your legs were weak & wobbly. You felt like a balloon. "I gotcha sweetheart." He laughed, kissing you gently. The kiss was so sweet. He takes care of you, even after such rough and intimate moments. "We should shower." "Good thinking." Chris whispered.

Your boyfriend picked you up into his arms and off you two were to the restroom.

Hopefully while he's at work, he won't be able to get his mind off of you and it'll be just like this when he arrives home...

[ninjatrashpanda]

Home (Home is wherever I'm with You)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round Two. Day Seven: "Predict the Future." Read on AO3 here.

“Oh yeah,” Buck exclaimed, handing another freshly washed plate to Tommy to dry. Evenings like this one were becoming more and more common. Buck and Tommy would meet up at Tommy’s house or Buck’s loft after their shifts, cook and eat dinner together, do the dishes together, and then settle down on the couch for a movie Tommy wanted to see, or a documentary to fuel Buck’s latest hyperfixation before heading to bed, either for a round of ‘Was I a good boy, Daddy?’ or to just sleep, depending on how tired they were after work. “My lease runs out in three months. Remind me that I have to talk to my landlord about a new one.”

Tommy nodded, putting the now dry plate on top of the stack next to him. “I can remind you, but have you thought about maybe… I don’t know… not renewing it?” His tone was casual, as it usually was, but Buck could tell that he was nervous from the way the blue of his eyes seemed to waver. For all that Tommy knew how to mask his facial expressions, Buck had quickly learned that his eyes had the tendency to betray him as long as you knew what to look for.

Buck let out a small chuckle, reaching for another plate, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion. “Not renewing?” he echoed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what? Move into the station full time?”

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more… you know, here. At my place.”

An odd sense of quiet spread through the room for a moment, despite the soft clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of the dishwasher running behind them. It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue proposal, not really. In fact, Buck figured, they’d been tiptoeing around it for weeks, maybe months. Their evenings together were less about convenience and more about the deep comfort they’d found in each other’s company, the quiet routines they’d built together. On nights when their shifts kept them apart, Buck deeply missed and outright craved Tommy, and not just in the sexual sense either. He’d realized a while ago that he really didn’t want to be apart from his boyfriend for any extended amount of time.

“You… You want me to move in with you?”

Tommy stopped drying for a second, focusing on folding the towel in his hands to avoid meeting Buck’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I mean, we’re here all the time anyway, right? You’ve got a drawer, you’ve got space in the closet, half your stuff’s already in the bathroom. It just makes sense. Plus…" He finally looked up, his expression softening. “I like having you around, Evan. It feels… good. Natural.”

Buck didn’t respond immediately. He reached for the next dish, but instead of handing it over, he stared at the water droplets sliding down the ceramic, his mind working through the unspoken implications. He wasn’t scared, exactly. Living with Tommy had an appeal, a strong one, but it also carried weight. The last time he moved in with a partner had been an absolute disaster (and Buck was mature enough to acknowledge that it wasn’t fully or even mostly on Taylor either) and he really, really didn’t want his relationship with Tommy to go down the same path.

He finally spoke, voice steady but thoughtful. “I like being here with you too, Tommy, of course I do, I love you. It’s just… moving in, it’s a big step. You sure we’re ready for that?”

Tommy’s lips pressed together as he kept playing with his towel, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He didn’t want to push, and Buck knew and appreciated that. This wasn’t about trying to goad Buck into doing something he wasn’t ready for; it was about opening a door that, deep down, he already knew they both wanted to walk through.

“I get that it’s a big step,” Tommy finally said, his voice a touch softer, though still carrying that cadance of sincerity that Buck had become so familiar with. “I’m not trying to pressure you or make you feel like we have to do this now. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and… honestly, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes met Buck’s, unwavering, calm but warm, and full of love. “No rush, no pressure. Just… think about it.”

Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, running a hand through his damp curls. There was a knot in his chest that he hadn’t quite figured out how to untangle, a mix of excitement, anxiety, and an old, familiar fear of things falling apart when they seemed to be going too well.

“I do love being here,” Buck admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might somehow jinx what they had. “And you’re right. Half my stuff’s already here. I just…” He paused, words getting caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. “I guess I’m scared, you know? Last time I moved in with someone, I made a whole bunch of mistakes. It was a bad idea, and we rushed into things and it got… messy.”

Tommy nodded, leaning against the counter, his fingers still absently twisting the towel. “I know what happened with Taylor wasn’t easy, Evan. But that was different. You were different. And I’m not her.” He took a step closer, closing the space between them, his hand finding Buck’s in the soapy sink. The warmth of Tommy’s touch grounded him, and for a second, the room felt smaller, quieter. More intimate.

“You’re not,” Buck agreed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of Tommy’s hand. “And I don’t want to compare what we have to that. I just… I want to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons. Not because it’s convenient or comfortable, but because it’s what we both really want.”

Tommy tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching Buck’s face as if trying to read the thoughts that Buck was too afraid to say out loud. “If you need to think about it, that’s okay. You know I’m not gonna hold it against you, right?”

Buck let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of Tommy’s words settle over him. He knew Tommy meant every word. There was no hidden agenda, no underlying expectation. He was simply being honest about what he wanted, but ready to let it go if Buck didn’t. And Buck knew that should he say no, Tommy would be disappointed, but nothing would change between them. Tommy would know that Buck declining now wasn’t a never, just a not at this point. And that was what made this relationship so different from all the others. It wasn’t built on fleeting passion or some burning need to be wanted. It was steady, patient, and real.

“I know,” Buck said, his voice a little more solid this time. He turned to look at Tommy, really look at him. The man who had somehow woven himself into the fabric of Buck’s everyday life without either of them really noticing it happening. Tommy was everything Buck never thought he needed. Calm where Buck was impulsive, thoughtful where Buck was driven by instinct. It made Buck feel safer than he had in a long time.

Tommy smiled, a soft, understanding curve of his lips. “There’s no rush, baby,” he said again, letting his hand squeeze Buck’s gently before releasing it and taking the next dish. “We can talk about it whenever you’re ready. Or not talk about it. Whatever works.”

*

“So, what’s bugging you?” Bobby asked as he threw Buck’s apron over to him. They’d just gotten back to the station after a minor fender bender (three mild injuries, no deaths) and after sending everyone off to do their chores, he had quickly roped Buck into making dinner with him. Buck should have known it was a set-up.

“Wow, okay,” he said, grabbing an onion to dice for the bolognese recipe Tommy had gotten from his Nonna, a recipe both Bobby and Buck had gotten obsessed with mastering. “Not even gonna try to butter me up first, huh?”

Bobby chuckled as he started chopping the garlic, his hands moving with the kind of ease that came from years of cooking for the station. “We both know I’m not great at subtlety,” he said, glancing up at Buck with a pointed look. “Besides, I can tell something’s been on your mind. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”

Buck sighed, shaking his head slightly as he focused on the onion in front of him. The sharp smell of it hit him as soon as he sliced into it, and the familiar sting of onion-tears started piecing his eyes. He really should’ve known Bobby would catch on. If not him, who?

“I don’t know, Cap,” Buck said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s kinda dumb, really. I’ve just been... thinking. A lot.”

Bobby didn’t respond right away, just kept working at the garlic, letting Buck find his way to whatever he needed to say. Buck appreciated it. He hated being pushed to answer, and it always made him feel like he had to justify himself for feeling things. Bobby leaving him air to breathe and sort his thoughts, even if he was a little embarrassed that Bobby could read him so readily.

Buck did appreciate it. But it did also make him squirm.

“You know you’re allowed to think about things,” Bobby said after a moment, keeping his tone light. “But sometimes you get stuck in your head, Buck. And I’m not sure that’s where you want to be right now.”

Buck dropped the knife on the cutting board with a sigh, the rhythmic chop-chop of onions halting as he wiped his hands on his apron. “It’s not that,” he muttered, staring down at the half-diced onion, almost willing it to give him answers.

“So what is it?”

Buck looked up, meeting Bobby’s eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He could feel the weight of Bobby’s concern, genuine and steady, like the man was always a step ahead, trying to make sure everyone around him was okay.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “Tommy asked me to move in with him, and I’m scared.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, pausing his garlic chopping for a second before setting the knife down. “Scared?” His tone was gentle, but Buck could sense the surprise there. “Of moving in with Tommy, or… something else?”

Buck let out a long breath, the air thick with the smell of onions and garlic now, the comforting scents of a familiar meal that should have helped ease his tension but only seemed to magnify the knot twisting in his stomach. He looked down at the onion, pushing it around the board with the edge of his knife. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but it was like they didn’t want to come out. Talking about feelings was never easy for him, especially not the deep, vulnerable ones. But this… this was Bobby. The man who had been there through the worst and somehow still saw him, still believed in him.

“I don’t know,” Buck finally said, the words coming out in a rush, like if he didn’t say them now, they’d never come. “I’m not really scared of moving in, I’m scared of messing it all up like I did with Taylor.”

Bobby gave a small nod and a hum, his expression one of calm realization. He turned and resumed chopping the garlic, the steady sound of the knife hitting the cutting board filling the silence between them. Buck appreciated the way Bobby let the quiet hang, giving him the space to work through his tangled thoughts.

“I know I shouldn’t compare the two,” Buck said, frustration creeping into his voice. He resumed dicing the onion, his movements a little too quick, the sharp knife clattering against the board. “Tommy’s not Taylor and I’m not the same Buck that I was back then, but it’s like I can’t help it. Every time I think about taking the next step with him, my mind goes back to everything I did wrong with Taylor. How I thought I could make it work, despite everything, and then… well, you know how that went.”

Bobby set down his knife again, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned to fully face Buck. His gaze was steady, not judgmental, just patient. “Buck, you can’t beat yourself up over past mistakes forever. You’ve learned from them. That’s what matters.”

Buck frowned, his hands stilling for a moment as he considered Bobby’s words. “Yeah, but what if I haven’t learned enough? What if I mess this up too? Tommy… he’s important to me. Like, really important. I think he could be it, you know? And the last thing I want to do is hurt him or make things awkward between us.”

Bobby gave a small nod, leaning back against the counter as he crossed his arms. “I get that, Buck. Believe me, I do. But relationships aren’t about never making mistakes. They’re about being willing to learn and grow together. From what I’ve seen, you and Tommy are already doing that.”

Buck stared at the sloppy onion dices in front of him, the smell still sharp, mixing with the garlic Bobby had finished. “What if I can’t handle the pressure? I mean, living together is a big deal. I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

Bobby smiled faintly, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he watched Buck. “Do you want to be ready, though?”

Buck blinked. The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t something he had considered, at least not in those terms. Did he want to be ready? Of course he did, didn’t he? But then again, that was part of the problem. He wanted to be perfect, to have it all figured out before he took the leap. The thought of messing up, of failing, of somehow destroying what he and Tommy had, gnawed at him.

“I do,” Buck sighed, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to screw this up, Bobby. I’ve done that too many times already. What if I’m just not meant for this? What if...”

Bobby held up a hand, stopping him gently but firmly. “Buck, stop.” He shook his head slightly, his tone soft but unwavering. “You’re not broken. You’ve been through a lot, and yeah, you’ve made mistakes. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you’re destined to keep repeating them.”

Buck felt a lump form in his throat. He hated how accurate Bobby’s assessment of him was. How often had he thought like that about himself? That he was somehow defective, doomed to fail at every relationship he tried to make work? It was like a heavy weight tied around his neck, one that seemed to make it harder and harder to keep his head up.

Bobby’s eyes softened as he kept speaking, his voice filled with that steady, reassuring calm Buck had come to rely on. “You’re allowed to be scared, Buck. It means this matters to you. But don’t let that fear keep you from something good. You and Tommy… you’ve got something worth fighting for. And from what I’ve seen, you’re both willing to put in the work.”

Buck swallowed, his eyes burning a little, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the onion or the sudden rush of emotions coursing through his body. He wiped his hands on his apron again, more out of habit than necessity. “I guess I’m just scared I’ll let him down,” he admitted quietly. Bobby had done it once again. He had peeled back every single one of Buck’s worries and doubts and had nailed exactly what the source of his issues was. “He deserves someone who’s... not a mess.”

Bobby shook his head, stepping closer and resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Buck, you’re not a mess. You’re human. And Tommy knows that. You two are building something together, and that’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time, effort, and yeah, sometimes it takes stumbling a little along the way. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.”

Buck looked up at Bobby, his throat tight, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little as he heard the words. He knew Bobby meant them. He could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice.

“Do you think I can do this?” Buck asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

Bobby’s smile was small but full of warmth. “I think you already are. You’re asking the right questions, thinking about it the way you should. You care enough to want to get it right. That’s what matters.”

Buck nodded slowly, feeling a little of the tension start to melt away. Bobby’s words had a way of doing that, of making things seem less impossible, less overwhelming. Maybe he didn’t have it all figured out yet, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe just wanting to do better, wanting to be there for Tommy, was enough for now.

“Thanks, Cap,” Buck said, his voice steadier now. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Bobby gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to the cutting board, picking up his knife and getting back to the garlic. “Anytime, Buck. And hey, when you move in with Tommy, don’t forget to keep practicing this bolognese. I’m counting on you to help me perfect it.”

Buck laughed, a real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t realized he needed. He picked up his knife again, the rhythm of chopping the onion coming more easily now, less frantic. “Deal. But only if you let me make the garlic bread.”

“Done,” Bobby said with a grin. “Now, let’s finish this before everyone starts complaining about being hungry.”

*

“This is the last one,” Tommy called, carrying a box down the stairs to Buck’s former bedroom. Buck, waiting at the base with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his suitcase by his side. “You had a lot less stuff than I expected, baby.”

Buck smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, it’s… I never really needed much, you know?”

It was true. Buck had, for all intents and purposes, been kind of a minimalist with the loft. He lived at the station half the time anyway, so he had never really tried to accessorize or anything. A few pictures of himself and his family, from Maddie and Bobby to Christopher and Jee-Yun were about the only things that he figured mattered. He loved his family, and being surrounded by them, even if it was only through photographs, always made him feel better.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, putting the box to the ground. And that… was a loaded question. Yes, Buck was okay, technically. He wanted this. He wanted to move in with Tommy, was okay with letting the loft go.

But this had still been his home for the last six years of his life. It was still the end of an era.

“Just… feeling a little nostalgic is all.”

Tommy nodded, an understanding smile making its way to his face. “Makes sense,” he said quietly, running his hand through his messy curls as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been through a lot in this place.”

Buck sighed, his eyes drifting around the room, taking in the bare walls, the empty bookshelves, the absence of the things that had once made this place feel like his. There was a time when this loft had been a refuge, a place to heal after he had hit rock bottom more than once. He’d been here after the ladder truck had crushed his leg, after the tsunami, after the lightning strike. His relationships with Ali and Taylor and Natalia had ended here. He had spent weeks in here all alone when he had filed the lawsuit that had almost destroyed his relationships with the people that mattered most to him.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice soft. “A lot happened here.”

And yet, it had also been a sanctuary, a place of endless laughter, and some of the best parts of his life. Getting this place had made him feel like an adult for the first time in his life. He had felt independent in a way not even traveling across the country on his own had made him feel. He and Eddie had made up after the lawsuit in here, he and Christopher had spent countless hours pummeling each other in fighting games, he’d first seen Jee-Yun crawl in here when she had made her way from the door to the couch. He had even delivered his Conner and Kameron’s child in here.

Tommy and him had shared their first kiss here.

Tommy watched him carefully, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “You don’t have to let it all go, you know,” he said, voice gentle. “You can take the memories with you.”

Buck smiled at that, the kind of smile that cracked through the melancholy even though it still didn’t quite fill out his face. “I know. It’s just… this place has seen every part of me, you know? The mess, the mistakes, the times I got back up again. It’s hard to leave that behind.”

“I get it,” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against Buck’s arm. “And it’s normal. Leaving your old home for a new one is always hard.”

Buck’s gaze softened as he looked at Tommy, grateful for the way he understood, the way he just… got it. That was one of the things that had made Buck fall for him in the first place. Tommy knew how to be present, how to listen without forcing an answer or solution.

“Moving in with you,” Buck said, looking down at the duffel bag and then back at the empty space around him, “it feels right. I just didn’t expect it to feel this… complicated too.”

Tommy chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss Buck’s temple, his arm moving around Buck’s shoulders. “Change always is. Even the good ones. But look, we don’t have to rush anything. If you need more time, I—”

“No,” Buck interrupted, though his tone was gentle. “I’m ready. I really am. I want this—us.” He turned to pull Tommy into a slow, soft kiss, resting his forehead against Tommy’s. “I think I just need a second to say goodbye to this place, you know?”

Tommy squeezed his hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Take all the time you need.”

Buck turned back toward the loft, his heart heavy but steady, while Tommy went to grab the box and stand in the doorway. Buck walked slowly around the room, letting his fingers graze the walls, each touch bringing back fragments of the life he’d lived here. The first time he’d stood in the kitchen, fresh from a shift, feeling like he was finally becoming the man he wanted to be. The nights he’d stayed awake, trying not to let his loneliness get to him, wondering if he’d ever be enough for anyone. The day Maddie had come home after getting treated for her PPD. The moment Eddie had told him that Chris thought of him as a hero, a title Buck never felt like he deserved but wore like armor anyway.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the Los Angeles skyline glowing with the soft hues of the setting sun. The view had always been one of his favorite parts of this place. It reminded him that, no matter how chaotic life got, the world kept turning, kept moving. And so did he.

With a deep breath, Buck finally allowed t’he tears that had built behind his lids to flow free, feeling the weight of six years lift from his shoulders. This place had been his sanctuary, his shelter. But now, he realized, it had also been his cocoon. It had kept him safe while he grew, while he healed. But he wasn’t the same man who had first walked through that door all those years ago. He was ready to spread his wings and step into something new.

Something with Tommy.

He stepped back in, his heart full but at peace, and caught Tommy’s eye. “I think I’m good now,” he said softly, smiling—a real, genuine smile this time.

Tommy grinned, his eyes twinkling with that infectious warmth that had always made Buck feel grounded. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d have to carry all your boxes back up.”

Buck laughed, the sound light and free, cutting through the bittersweet air. “You’re hilarious. But no, I won’t strain your back like that, old man.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is!” Tommy shot back, his expression playful as Buck picked up his suitcase and duffel bag. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

Tommy grabbed the last box, and together, they headed for the door. Just before stepping through, Buck paused one last time, looking back over his shoulder at the loft. He let the memories settle in his mind, like pictures into a photo album.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, not to the loft itself, but to the man he used to be inside it. Then, he turned to join Tommy in the hallway. “Let’s go home.”

[wolfnight2012]

So is the fandom at large still characterizing "Open Arms" as the ~pacifism~ song or have we gotten past that?

Like, I don't know how keen Polites was for violence as a soldier in the Trojan war, since we meet him after the fact & lose him soon after.

But "Open Arms" doesn't tell us about his capacity for violence. It barely tells us about his thoughts on violence as an option.

The most we can infer from "Full Speed Ahead" and "Open Arms" is that Polites doesn't believe violence is the only option (or the one they should jump to first.)

But that's not even what "Open Arms" is about (not really)

"Open Arms" is about Polites noticing Odysseus' trauma & trying to help his friend heal.

The first lines of the song are:

"I can tell you're getting nervous, so do yourself a service"

Here "nervous" isn't being used to mean "scared" but rather "anxious" or "tense." I think Polites is calling out the fact that Odysseus is going 'fight or flight' mode despite everything being calm/no threat in sight.

He then tells Odysseus to have hope.

"Think of all that we have been through, we'll survive what we get in to"

He then starts to call out Odysseus a bit more explicitly (and notice how Odysseus does not contradict him. After his first [and unconvincing imo] "I"m fine, Polites" Odysseus doesn't speak again until the lotus-eaters show up)

(Btw, if you wanna read my breakdown of Polites & Odysseus' relationship [as explicitly depicted in EPIC], I wrote a post about it here)

"I know that you're tired of the war & bloodshed" <-We the audience also know this: "Will these actions haunt my days/is the price I pay endless pain?" (Plus killing Astyanax messed him up)

"Tell me, is this how we're supposed to live?" <- Must we remain in that kill/be killed mindset, always on alert, always warriors first, men second?

"Look at how you grip your sword, enough said" <- I think we can infer that Polites is either calling out the fact that Odysseus hasn't let go of his sword since they left the ship (aka always in 'warrior mode' aka "is this how we're supposed to live?") OR that Odysseus is white-knuckling his sword, (aka he is nervous/ anxious/stressed about a potential attack despite no visible threats)

Either way, in Polites' eyes, this mentality is detrimental to his friends' mental and/or emotional health.

Then we get to the point where I think the misunderstanding started & ended up overshadowing the rest of the song:

"You can show a person that you trust them, when you stop and lower your guard" <- I think we can take this literally (lower your sword until you actually have need of it) or figuratively (be ~emotionally~ vulnerable by asking for help.)

"This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms" <- It doesn't have to be "endless pain" Life can be beautiful, but you have to stop closing yourself off/seeing everything as a threat first

Polites is arguing that the world is not always out to get you. Sometimes people are decent. Sometimes they are willing (or want) to help you.

It's a bit of "Try extending your hand in greeting before reaching for your sword" (Not everyone will be friendly, but you won't know if you are aggressive from the get-go.)

And a bit "Life is what you make of it" (if Ody treats every stranger like an enemy, then that is what they'll be.)

"We'll be fine if we're leading from the heart" I talk a bit about this in my response here. TLDR; Odysseus is lying to himself when he says he can "Lead from the heart & see what starts" in "Luck Runs Out" because that is not what he is doing,(and his reward is the windbag betrayal) MEANWHILE he does successfully "lead from the heart" while warding off Circe's advances & it's what saves his men/gains Circe's sympathy.

"No matter the place, we can light up the world, here's how to start" <- Again, life is what you make of it. You can make it a good one; not everything is an enemy/potential threat. Stop being a warrior first & go back to being a man

Of course, this doesnt immediately work, because Odysseus greets the world with his sword when the lotus-eaters show up

(Tbh, I find it hilarious that the lotus-eaters' FIRST word is "Welcome" and Odysseus responds to a Friendly Greeting by drawing his sword)

Like, Odysseus is genuinely seeing a threat here, he IS scared "nervous"

His first words to the lotus-eaters is a demand/warning for them to "stay back" (and both their cute voices [going off audio only] or their canonical fluffy designs tell us these are tiny things. They have no weapons, they haven't indicated any aggression, but Odysseus is so high-strung he sees something he might need to fight anyways)

THIS is what Polites has been refering to. THIS is why he's so concerned about his friend. That is not healthy and Odysseus is buckling under the weight of living in "survival" mode/always being "on"

"My friend, greet the world with open arms" <- this isnt Polites horrified Odysseus is responding with aggression/concerned for the innocent lotus-eaters, THIS is Polites (knowing Odysseus is tired of war & bloodshed) reminding his friend that he doesn't have to put himself through this. There IS another way. These creatures could be friendly, "Maybe they'll share some food, who knows?" Maybe, maybe not, but they won't know until they extend a hand first & ask.

And Odysseus does it by half measures *cough* just like all his actions after "Just a Man"*cough*

He lets the lotus-eaters know of their plight "We're only here for food" and threatens them in the next breath "600 men are waiting/stay back, I'm warning you/my men will turn this place into blazes"

He doesn't even ask for food/help, he simply lets the lotus-eaters know they're searching for food, then immediately piles on three additional threats to make sure they don't try anything.

Then of course the lotus-eaters offer food, but not food they can eat & Odysseus becomes dejected (which I think implies he was [sorta] listening to Polites, or at the very least, is so tired/stressed/wrung-out that he was secretly hoping it could be as easy as Polites claims.)

And Polites tries one more time.

"I'd like to show my friend that kindness is brave" <- I've seen so many people call Polites naive. That his optimism is too extreme/and not fit for the world (or at least the world of EPIC) but i would disagree with this common interpretation as well.

Why is kindness brave? If Polites believed greeting the world with open arms would help them find ONLY friendly strangers (instead of hostile ones or outright foes) then why would kindness be brave. Wouldn't it simply be? After all, what's brave about a sure thing? What's brave about having a get-out-of-danger-free card?

Kindness is brave because sometimes you WILL be met with hostile strangers/foes. But you extend your hand in peace first anyways. You don't know for certain if you will be met with friend or foe. But that does not mean you walk around, one hand on your sword, seeing enemies at every turn. You greet the world with open arms & give strangers the benefit of the doubt first, THEN use force if necessary.

I see Polites' philosophy as similar to Waymond's from EEAAO in that regard.

Polites, like Waymond, is choosing kindness. Is choosing to be optimistic. Not because he is naive to the ways of the world, but in spite of them. That is how Polites fights against darkness & despair. He is not naive.

When Polites tells the lotus eaters he'd "Like to show my friend that kindness is brave" he knows he's taking a risk. That's why it's brave. He is extending his trust to these creatures in the hopes they'll help/they have no ill intent, BUT being Well Aware he could be met with the latter.

Just because he's optimistic about the outcome doesn't mean he doesnt understand the risk. To refuse to dwell on the negative doesn't mean you're unaware of negative possibilities.

Then Polites reiterates his advice "This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms" because it doesn't have to all be war & bloodshed & stress. You CAN find goodness in the world, and you'll feel much better if you don't assume everyone & everything is out to get you. And he lets Ody know he's aware of what he's going through/what's upsetting him.

"I seen in your face there is so much guilt inside your heart" <- I genuinely don't know if the crew know Odysseus dropped Astyanax, every time Odysseus references the infant, it's vaguely or as an aside. But even if Polites DOESN'T know Odysseus killed an infant, he still has 10 years of war to draw from (plus the wooden horse/killing sleeping Trojans bit.) Like, Polites is aware of what Odyssues has done, he knows what Odysseus is grappling with. This is not a simple/superficial/naive call for Odysseus to 'cheer up!' Polites knows of the darkness weighing on Odysseus' shoulders & he's telling Odysseus he's allowed to put it behind him.

"So why not replace it, and light up the world" <- He's allowed. It's over. It's behind them. Polites does not want his friend to torment himself forever. Whatever he did, he can move on. He can be a better man that what he was forced to become while at war/Troy (remember, Polites is well aware Odysseus is "tired of the war and bloodshed".)

And how can Odysseus begin to heal from his guit/trauma?

"Greet the world with open arms" <- stop seeing every stranger as a potential enemy/threat. Open yourself up to the possibility that good things happen sometimes. Sometimes, people are kind

"Greet the world with open arms" <- and Odysseus begins to tentatively open himself up to the concept & take Polites' words to heart

"You can relax, my friend" <- you're allowed

Sidenote: I told myself this post would ONLY be about Open Arms (and this ended up being SO Much longer than I anticipated) but I have a few more things to say, so I'll try to be brief.

Warrior of the Mind:

I'm convinced Athena pops in when she does because Odysseus is listening to Polites. He's been eaten by guilt since Astyanax & shyed away from violence in Full Speed Ahead. His nervousness is not very "warrior of the mind" of him. YET Athena doesn't come in to scold Odysseus at any of these points.

It's only when Odysseus sings Polites' chorus back to him, signaling he's opening himself up to the concept of open arms that Athena makes her entrance.

Polyphemus:

I'm not asserting this, but I think the argument can be made that Odysseus checks out the cave because of Polites. Like, either:

A.) He's giving Polites' advice a try here & now by trusting the lotus eaters/that they mean no ill-intent OR

B.) (less likely probaby??) His friendship/affection for Polites is the sort where he wants to please him. Polites is set on trusting the lotus/showing Odyssues "another way" & Odysseus will humor him because it's Polites asking

(Tho obviously the other explanation is that they are just THAT desperate for food & Odysseus doesn't think they have time to go searching for yet another island when this one (the lotus eater one) already turned out to be a bust

Underworld:

I feel like the general consensus for Polites' section of "Underworld" is that Polites died still seeing/believing in the good of the world OR that his dying wish was for Odysseus to chose nonviolence/pacifism???

(But as you can tell from *gestures at this entire post* I don't subscribe to the idea that "Open Arms" is about nonviolence. THEREFORE)

We know Polites last words/action in life was calling for Odysseus. And, imo, Polites' dying wish was for Odysseus to heal. If "Open Arms" is about Polites' calling out Odysseus' stress/trauma & trying to coax Ody to approach life differently so he can start to move on from the horrors of war.

Then that means, in death, Polites is stuck hoping Odysseus heals. Over & Over Polites sings for his friend to let go of his guilt & try to build a life worth living (not just one have to survive in)

And THAT imo is 1000x sadder than a call for pacifism. Because Polites' dying wish doesn't come true. Odysseus' mental/emotional health grows worse & worse. He pushes everyone away in the Ocean Saga, to the point that his crew of 10 years starts to doubt him! He already "can hardly sleep" in the Circe Saga. The Underworld Saga almost destroys him and it only gets worse from there!

In the Underworld Odysseus is confronted with Polites' love for him. His desire for him to get better. His hope for Odysseus to find peace/happiness.

Polites loved him soooo much, his Final Thoughts were concern for his friend. (Then Ody gets to hear from his mom, who loved him so much she died waiting for his return)

No wonder it breaks him.

[Anyways, if you wanna see my (much shorter) post over how the Wisdom Saga basically argues for/confirms Polites' philosophy Was RIGHT, you can find it here]

[lousypotatoes]

I've Got A Smile On My Face

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10 Pt. 11

Song Recommendation:

Always - Irving Berlin

Warning! This chapter contains depictions of panic attacks, and graphic violence! If this triggers you or makes you uncomfy in any way shape or form, please read with caution.

90 years ago...

It had been six months since Alastor kissed Y/N on her front porch. As expected, the two of them were now an item.

During the span of those six months, everything was absolutely perfect. The flower shop was thriving, Alastor's radio show was more popular than ever, Jasper didn't come by the shop since their interaction, and most importantly, Alastor and Y/N were so very much in love, Y/N felt that she fell more in love with him every time she saw him.

The only thing she didn't like about their relationship was the big secret she had to keep from him.

There were times that she oh so badly wanted to tell Alastor that her real job was killing people, and that running the flower shop was a cover up, but she was terrified that he was going to be disgusted with her, and leave her.

And Y/N didn't know what she would do if Alastor left.

It was mid afternoon, almost noon. The weather outside was very rainy and very stormy. Y/N was arranging the shelves, making sure the flower buds were facing the front.

It always annoyed her when customers would look at flowers and not put them back the correct way.

When she was done, she walked to the register and counted the money.

She sighed. Business was very slow that day, obviously because of the rain. She had almost considered closing the shop up early and going home, but felt it was better to just stay, just in case any customers came in after the rain cleared up.

Sitting down the chair behind the counter, Y/N put her head in her hands, bored as ever.

Hopefully Alastor would come and visit her. He always did, but Y/N thought he might not today obviously because of the stormy weather.

To her surprise and delight, she heard the bell ring, signaling that there was a customer.

"Hello can I help yo-Alastor!"

"Hello, my love," Alastor said, swooping down to catch Y/N in a kiss.

Y/N would never get tired of kissing Alastor, no matter how many time she did kiss him. It was like magic every time.

"How has your day been?" Alastor asked as he pulled away.

"Very slow, but much better now that you're here," Y/N smiled. "How was yours?"

"As slow as molasses," Alastor sighed. "I had to cancel all my broadcasts today because of this damn weather."

"Oh, that's a shame," she said. "It seems like this weather is bringin' everybody down."

"You can say that again," he said. "You thinking of heading home early?"

"I was thinkin' 'bout it," she replied. "I think I'll stick around for a few more hours."

"Well, if you're not busy tonight," Alastor said, grabbing onto her hips. "How about dinner at my place?"

"Depends," Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Are you gonna be the one cookin'?"

"Of course," he chuckled.

"Then I'll have to take a rain check on that," she giggled. "Dinner sounds nice, what time should I swing by?"

"I prefer around six," Alastor answered..

"Six it is," Y/N said. "You gonna head back home?"

"I suppose so, yes. I gotta tidy up a bit."

"All that for me?"

"Only the best for you, my dear," Alastor said, sincere. "I'll catch you later tonight."

"Aw, alright," Y/N pouted. "If I ain't there by at least seven, you better come and get me and drag me back to your place."

"Alright, I will, I promise," he laughed before leaning down and placing his lips on Y/N's.

The kiss was sweet and loving, as it always was. The way their lips perfectly molded against each other, like they were made for each other, made Y/N's heart feel like it was about to burst.

The only reason they broke apart was so they could breath air.

If Y/N could, she would make Alastor her air.

"Goodbye, Al," she smiled up at him. "I love you."

"I love you most," he said, before letting go of her.

He gave her one more smile before walking out of the shop, the bell ringing, signaling his leave.

Y/N walked back behind the counter, a dreamy smile on her face.

"I'm going to marry that man someday," she dreamily said to herself.

Even though it was rainy and story outside, nothing could ruin this perfect day.

It was 5:45 in the evening. Y/N was counting the money in the register for the twelfth time that day.

Besides Alastor, only three other people came in the shop that day.

Screw the rainy weather. No one even likes rain that much anyway.

Looking up at the clock, Y/N decided that she was going to stop working, and head over to Alastor's

Going into the back room, she put the money into a safe under a fake floorboard, checked her nightly schedule for that week (thankfully she only had to kill two people that week), and grabbed her umbrella and her raincoat, preparing to go into the cold rainy weather.

Walking out of the back room, she was stopped dead in her tracks, a look of fear and despair on her face.

"J-Jasper," she choked. "What are you doin' here?"

The two of them hadn't interacted since the incident in the flower shop six months ago. Y/N had hoped that Jasper had taken the hint and decided to leave her alone.

But this was Jasper we're talking about, and things never were easy with him, no matter how big or small the situation was.

"Just came to say hi," he said, a sadistic and gleeful smile on his face. He was holding something behind his back, but Y/N didn't know what.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, thought we could catch up a bit."

He started to walk closer to Y/N, she started to back up.

"So now you're with that mama's boy, Alastor Altruist, huh?" he said, still grinning. "Didn't think you would be into a weirdo like that, but oh well."

Y/N didn't say anything, too frozen in fear to say a single word.

Jasper then revealed what was behind his back. It was a long, thin, razor sharp blade, the kind that Y/N would use when she didn't feel like using any of her guns.

If you wanted to kill someone real quick, you would use a blade like the one Jasper had.

Y/N's eyes widened in fear and terror.

She had a small pistol in her office, but there was no way she was going to be able to get it without putting up a fight.

"Y'know darling," he drawled, creeping very slowly towards her. "I didn't quite like the things you said to me the last time we talked.

Y/N gulped, slowly inching herself towards a shelf holding a dozen flower vases.

Jasper didn't notice. "Not gonna say anything, huh?" he asked, eyes glinting sinisterly.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just gonna spill your fuckin' guts out."

Jasper lunged at Y/N, ready to strike.

Quickly, Y/N grabbed one of the vases on the shelf, and smashed it over Jasper's head, glass shards and flowers going everywhere all over the floor.

"You bitch!" Jasper snarled. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, clutching his bleeding head.

Y/N took this opportunity to try and run out of the front door.

She decided that it was stupid if she locked herself in her back room. If she ran out the front door, she could just run to the nearest public place and get help.

She was just a few feet from the door, when Jasper grabbed onto her wrist, twisting it hard.

Y/N turned around and was getting ready to punch him in the jaw, but that was replaced with a cry of pain and anguish.

Jasper had stabbed Y/N in the stomach, just above where her belly button was.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and fear, crying out again when Jasper stabbed her a second time.

"How does that feel?" he whispered. "Doesn't feel too good does it?"

"F-" Y/N stuttered. "Fuck you!"

With a snarl, Jasper stabbed her in the shoulder.

Blood was oozing out of all three of her stab wounds, staining both her and Jasper's clothes, and staining the white marble tile.

Jasper dragged her away, propping her in a siting position behind the counter.

"No one's gonna find you right here," he smirked. "Besides, you'll die in at least thirty minutes anyway."

Y/N knew that wasn't right, but didn't say anything, scared out of her mind.

What was she going to do?

She wasn't ready to die.

She didn't want to die.

What would happen to her shop?

What would happen to precious dog, Honey?

What would happen to Alastor?

As one last 'fuck you', Jasper bent down, kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, and walked out the front door, the bell chiming.

As soon as he left, Y/N tried to get off the ground. She tried at least five times. But each time she tried, she failed, she fell back onto the ground with a painful wail.

After the fifth time, she stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen when someone found her body.

Maybe this was karma for all the people she had killed over the fifteen years she had been an assassin, she thought.

As Y/N thought about it more, she actually didn't feel like she was going to die. Yes, it was painful, but it just felt like she hadn't had any sleep in a really long time.

And she really wanted to sleep.

She looked up at the clock. It was 5:58.

She laughed dryly. If only she had left a little bit earlier, even if it was just a minute, she wouldn't of been on the floor bleeding out.

With one last sigh coming out of her mouth, she closed her eyes, succumbing to the darkness, and passed out thinking about Alastor and her dog.

In no way she was ready to die, or wanted to, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do, and that this was karma.

She deserved to die, she thought

CLIFFHANGER

i wont be uploading any time this weekend or next weekend because i'll be in disneyland

i'm so excited

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant

@mo-0-o @cutiebimbo @mommymilkers0526 @mikariell95 @al-of-the-stars

@martinys-world @bibliophile-yomna @mysticwitchcraftco @notsoaverageguy-1997 @flamewriterr

[bitterbutblue]

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, good night!

Are you still requesting? If so, do you mind if I request Robin from Honkai Star Rail. Like those kind of tropes Idol x paparazzi, thank you!

nothing just head filled with robin

guess~ ☆ robin x fem!reader

~ hi anon!! tysm for requesting i am still taking requests just replying at a slow ass rate i apologise!!! i loveeee robin omg but not the biggest fan of paparazzi.. ive made reader her bodyguard instead :]

guys uni makes me want to END IT jokes i have a huge crush on someone andits so over for me.... im SO sick of it all (im not im dramatic as fuck)

tw VERY suggestive!! they speedrun sex with no actual descriptions of it!

song: guess by charli xcx ft billie eilish ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"Again?"

The frustrated groan has you looking up from your phone, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Everything alright?"

Robin's shoulders relax when she sees you, sighing as puts her own phone down, taking a glass of SoulGlad and sipping it quietly. The makeup artists move back as you approach her, you shoot a smile to the one to her left... what was her name? Emily?

"They're rescheduling my fan greeting for some interview, it's so- ugh!"

Robin puts the glass down on the table as she crosses her arms in annoyance, a pout on her face. You can't stop the small smile that creeps onto your face as you plop onto the chair next to her. You won't deny that you two have a much closer relationship than most bodyguards and celebrities do but she was the one who approached you first. You would've never wanted to cross her boundaries, what mattered to you most was her wellbeing. But she had always been so sweet to you, offering to buy you drinks when she gets one and asking you how you are or how your day went.

No celebrity you've worked with has ever treated you like this before and the fact that she was the most stunning woman to grace the entire galaxy is not helping you very much.

"Should I approach management?" You suggest, propping your head up as you rest your elbow against the table. You miss the way Robin's eyes quickly dart down and up again, eyeing you with a darker look in her eyes as she bites her lip gently.

"It's fine. I am just worried about upsetting the fans." She smiles, brushing away any previous thoughts she had as she moves her chair closer to yours. "They mean the world to me, and I'd hate to disappoint them. It's tiring- just always thinking about... fuck."

You catch the worried look in her eyes she tries to mask all the time as to not worry others. You always catch onto these small things that perhaps someone with your relationship to her shouldn't be catching but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help the way your chest feels like it's caving in whenever she puts her hand on your shoulder, or the way your heart leaps when she holds onto your arm when the paparazzi or interviewers become too much for her.

"Speaking to management would help, really. It's not fair to cancel the event for whatever publicity stunt they think is more important." You shrug

Robin hums, as if lost in thought. The room had become awfully quiet and you just noticed that everyone had already left, leaving just the two of you alone in the large make-up room. Robin looks up at you again, a softer smile on her face now and you feel your face grow warm.

"Thank you."

"No worries."

Silence always follows such conversations, it is inevitable but you hate it because your thoughts begin to wander and she becomes all you can think about.

"Do you think that life would be easier if we weren't living like this?"

You shoot her a questioning look, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

"What do you mean? Do you not... enjoy this lifestyle?"

Robin hesitates, a flurry of emotions on her face that you can't quite decipher as she takes another sip of SoulGlad.

"I do." She finally says, slowly, as if she is choosing her words "I just sometimes regret what I can't do."

You just laugh.

"You can do anything in this world, Robin. What can't you do?"

She turns her gaze from the amber liquid in her wine glass to you, and the room temperature seems to rise dramatically as you take in the gaze in her eyes. Darker than usual, lips parted slightly as her eyes dart down to your-

She stands up, smoothing out her dress as she offers you her hand.

"Let's take a walk."

Either way, you had to follow her wherever she went so you just scrambled to your feet, adjusting the black collared shirt you have on. She grabs your hand and you had to physically tell yourself to calm down or else you were actually going to combust.

She leads you up a set of staircases, before eventually leading you to the rooftop of the studio. You could only watch in confusion as she sighs with her head tilted back- the now-setting sun still reflecting itself off her face. Each beam of light captures her beauty in a way that a camera could never, reflecting into the day an angel that you've been lucky enough to see.

"I've been thinking a lot recently."

She turns to face you, gesturing for you to move closer. You inch forward, unsure, but she keeps gesturing at you- still unsatisfied. Finally, you find yourself only inches away from her face. You were both similar in height, and up close you could see each crevice in her face and each muscle that tenses as she smiles.

"Robin, we really should-"

"Do you think about me?"

Your eyes widened at her question, heart stuttering to a stop as she looks straight into your eyes. Her gaze is unwavering, communicating to you something you don't quite fully understand.

"What?"

"Do you think about me? If we were different people-" she steps closer to you, and you body tense as she rests a hand on your chest, right in the centre. You know she can feel how fast and hard your heart beats against your ribcage and you know she knows because of the smile that grows wider on her face.

"I think about you."

She whispers, trailing her hand down so that it rests against the waistband of your pants now and you have to physically stop yourself from shuddering under her touch.

"I think about how perhaps we could be more if it weren't for... us now." She says quietly, tracing the her finger around the area right above your belt and you bite back a strangled sound that is way too embarrassing to be let out.

She just chuckles.

"What are you implying?" You say, swallowing because your throat was seriously feeling way too dry.

"You know what I'm implying." Robin sighs "I asked you, do you think life would be easier if we weren't living like this? Because I've been thinking about it so much. What if we were just two people? What if we just run into each other on the streets one day, and we could fall in love without the gaze of the galaxy upon us."

"What a fast assumption, Robin. Thinking I’d fall for you.” You raised an eyebrow teasingly, but you know how shaky your voice is. You also know you’d fall for her in every fucking universe.

"I feel like I'm stating more of a fact." She whispers as she moves up to touch your tie, before tugging it slightly. You yelp as you stumble forward, catching yourself before you fell on top of her. The proximity between you two had your face flushing brick red. Her lips only centimetres away, and her eyes dart down to yours as she licks her lips. You can feel her breath against your lips, the feathers of her wings brush against your cheeks.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes."

That came out much quicker and much more desperately than you wished it would and Robin just giggles. The moment her lips press against yours, your eyes flutter shut. Her hand on your tie tightens its grip, pulling you even closer. Your hands move up, cupping her face gently as she circles her arms around her neck.

"Ah, Robin-"

She had pulled away from the kiss, moving to her lips to pepper kisses against your jawline before kissing your neck.

"Shush, no one's here. Just enjoy the moment with me?"

You throw your head back as she gently backs you against the wall, hands trailing down as she moves her hands down to the waistband of your pants once more, quickly unbuckling your belt. You throw your head back, gasping as the stars in all the planets shine in the sky above, your heart is beating secrets to you that you wouldn't hear with anyone else. Your head is spinning- wild and frantic as you try to regain any sense of balance but the way she has you wrapped around her finger…

You lean against Robin, panting as your head rests against her shoulders, coming down from an intense high. She hums softly, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Was that okay?"

"Perfect." You whisper breathlessly as you catch your breath, face flushed and body trembling. "We should get back to-"

"No." Robin frowns, and you look up to look her in the eyes.

"What?"

"I wanna stay like this with you." She whispers, her eyes filled with this look like the night sky when the moon is full and the skies are clear. Sparkling, bright, warm.

Maybe the next decision you made was a terrible mistake that you might regret for the next of your life, but in the moment it was all you could think about.

"I quit."

"What?"

Her eyes widened.

"I quit. I step down from being your head bodyguard." You said in a rush, breathless and eager as your heart pounds frantically in your chest. "I- let me be yours."

Robin bites her lower lip, shaking her head.

"That's ridiculous-"

"It's unprofessional for me to love you like this."

"You can't just quit!"

"I can and I just did."

"You're ridiculous."

"You're-"

"Shut up."

Robin gasps when you pull her into another kiss, this time much softer and warmer. Previous fiery passion all gone, replaced with nothing but pure love- pure feelings and nothing else.

"What will you do then?"

Robin whispers, leaning her forehead against yours.

You just smile.

"Whatever the world throws at me as long as you're by my side."

She shakes her head, eyes widening at the absurdity of the situation.

"You're literally not thinking about this, do you understand how serious this decision is?"

"Yeah. Don't care. I can always get another job. I'm tired of all this anyways." You sigh "I want a life with you. If being your bodyguards means I can't have that life, then I'll retire from being a bodyguard. Do you need a new manager?"

Robin throws her head back, the sound of laughter is like a melody from her song.

"You're ridiculous." She says again, now with a soft smile

"You love it. Round 2?"

"Oh my god, later!"

"That's not a no..."

[purplesoulcollection]

Unnatural Love

Part 3 Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi There! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.

I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English not my first language.

"Adele, starting today you are assigned to be a servant of Mr Demon. Get to work today!" said the Head Servant of this demon palace.

He was an older man who seemed to have a lot of experience in workforce personalization.

"You mean I work for Mr Demon? Isn't there Mr. Ed, the deputy troop commander, ready to help him?" My curiosity getting better than me.

Wasn't he already has a deputy who ready to help him, why should me too?

"Adele, you have been given a name by Mr Demon, repay him for your beautiful name." This butler seems to be saying that I don't deserve this beautiful name given to me.

Because lowly background...

And that makes me really annoyed with him.

But in the end I could only agree with the butler's words, having no choice but to swallow my resentment.

Then I was curious, why did I become his servant Mr Demon. It's true that I was given a name after the first time they met and Mr Demon greeted me when we met a few more times.

But I don't think there's anything strange about it.

Did my job change like this because of a request from Mr Demon or was this actually a ploy by the demon king.

If it was the latter, I would most likely be used as a pawn as a spy.

Because after all Mr Demon still a human. Unless he completely sides with the devil.

I'm not stupid enough to don't know that he still holds on to his human side too.

The proof is that he just kept to himself in his room, not too involved with the zero troops he led due to illness.

Whatever the demon king's cunning plans, I will not remain silent if I am used as his temporary pawn. I still have my brain to think logically to subjugate him.

But for the time being I will remain obediently a virtuous servant.

"Mr Demon, I'm Adele. I brought your breakfast." I knocked his room door, letting him know that I'm here.

"Come in!" Although be muted, his voices are still heard from outside.

Then I went in and put the food Mr Demon on the table available in his room. Not letting my eyes wander to him when he wears his shirt on top of his turtleneck.

And Mr Demon who was already wearing formal clothes, finally sat down in his chair to eat his food.

I watched him eat until he finished before I finally started to tell him,

"Mr Demon, starting today I am assigned to be your servant."

Mr Demon was surprised. He seemed to choke on his own saliva before he finally drank the water.

"You?! I thought you were just delivering food as usual."

Indeed, before today I was assigned several times to deliver food Mr Demon too. We were quite friendly in chatting about things unrelated to our status and differences.

Honestly, talking to Mr Demon made me feel again what it feels to be a human again in the midst of interactions with demons that are very annoying and discouraging for me.

Here's my relationship with the demons is not healthy for my own body and soul. I always have to be hit by anger, belittled, blows, sarcasm, death threats. I'm tired to always nonchalant about that fact.

I always have to be patient so that there is no reason for me to just die.

So talking to him really made me think that he is more friendly than the rumors that say he will kill you if you bother him even the slightest bit.

The real demon isn't any better than the rumored Demon.

To answer the question Mr Demon earlier...

"I thought so too, but I only received orders from my superiors. So I don't know the reason. "

Then he fell silent with his face wrinkled and his red eyes turned into those of a scary predator. That looks is really scary though.

But from my experience, Mr Demon will only stare intently. didn't actually try to attack me.

When I first saw those eyes I was scared to death, but now I'm used to it.

'As long as I've done nothing wrong, why should I be afraid?'

So I remained calm even though I was being stared at like that.

But the effects of being stared at for a long time like that are also dangerous, so let's shift the focus...

"After eating, do you want to visit Troop 0? Troop 0 has been waiting for your presence among them for a long time."

"Team 0..." As usual, Mr Demon always reluctant to discuss his own troops. If someone really used their brain, they will know it.

"Mr Ed has also been waiting for your arrival for a long time."

"Mr. Ed?! Why do you call him so polite. Is he not being nice to you?"

Is Mr Demon is the actual crazy? Even if he's not like the strong one in Devil's troop, he's still be one of the strongest devil in this devil palace.

"You keep joking, Mr Demon. Mr. Ed also really hates lowly devils like me. Besides, Mr. Ed is good with you because he is loyal and admires you. There's no way I could get the same treatment as Mr Demon."

"Are you... are you still experiencing hate treatment like this all the time?" His face looks not very good one. He looks very annoyed but still care for me... and that's makes me give a sorrowful smile.

"There won't be any significant changes, Mr Demon. But if I could hide behind a name Mr Demon maybe I could even scare them." I joked around to Mr Demon.

I need to change the sad topic, maybe he'll say no and i move on.

"Do it!" a spontaneous voice Mr Demon making me open my eyes to stare Mr Demon that had been speaking nonsense.

"I was just joking, Mr Demon. Please don't take my joke seriously." I tried to persuade him Mr Demon he just shook his head.

"You have to fight, Adele. Even if you consider yourself a worthless devil, you still have to fight for yourself." His face shows the fighting spirit that i should have, but i lacked that spirit.

'Maybe i don't really cut out with this world.'

"But, aren't you injured because of the effects of fighting a hero. If I involve you who are still sick in my problem..."

"I'll take care of it in time."

My mouth opened with reflexes, I found my savior in the midst of the complexity of this devil's world...

So I leaned a little closer and smiled broadly at Mr Demon and said "You said that yourself, I would like to thank you first, Mr Demon. For the inconvenience i'll brought"

I was busy thinking about the best way to use a name of Mr. Demon to get revenge on my bully until I didn't see his red face while looking at me.

To Be Continued

[idkimnotreal]

do autistic or asexual people like just being in love, for the sake of it? i always find this weird about myself. i like causing myself to fall for someone and then just ride the feeling, if i can do anything at all to make them happier.

(for a time my bpd traits conflicted with that as i took any form of rejection extremely personally but if that’s out of the way i genuinely just enjoy being in love without being loved back. i cherish the feeling, it energises me, i like daydreaming about the person i love)

edit: wait just found out this is an aromantic thing. lmao what. yeah i do identify and in fact my first love in high school was totally unrequited and it felt fine to me. i mean i had no idea. i thought aromantic meant no romantic feelings at all? but apparently a lack of desire to be loved is also on the ace spectrum. i legit thought this was a defense mechanism from rejection but... it i have bpd traits it follows that just by talking to someone i am risking painful rejection. so maybe it isn’t? need to go back to therapy asap.