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nsfwruru · 1 month ago

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top payer!huh yunjin(g!p) x OF!reader

hear me out… yunjin as your biggest supporter on OF, and that she’s your top payer to the point you want to get to know her. only for her to beg you to do a video collab so she can fuck your cute little face. she’s just a fein for head!!!!!😣

cw: filthy smut(masturbation, cum eating, use of videotaping, Yunjin receiving), porn with some plot, not proofread,, use of ‘S/N’ for “screen/name”

You didn’t know anyone in the industry, maybe a few faces here and there, but no one quite noticeable, well maybe due in part that you where a faceless content creator. Not much was known about you, other than the occasional kinks and preferences you’d naturally post under your frequent photoshoots. Having “fans” didn’t help much either, they all just so happened to have tacky screen names that hid their true identity— Well, that was the case until you came across an account that would frequently pay for extra access to your photos, with her name and face plastered onto her casual viewing account.

“huh yunjin” it displayed, the username just being ‘yunnnnjin” something that’s just so intriguing, since you never really saw anyone so proud to display that they looked around the website. Honestly it was really just a pleasant surprise knowing someone was actually human looking through your photos, and occasional videos. Also the fact that she was absolutely stunning in her profile picture kinda made you suspicious, wondering if this could be a bot. I mean, her dark red hair, which complimented her big brown eyes and plump lips, it was all too good to be true!

The only reason you ever believed that this was a real person running this account was the amount of payments she made. It was absolutely absurd! Not only was she paying for literally all the extra spicy photos you posted— but it came to the point she went out of her way to make excess payments just for the hell of it! Your debit card was absolutely popping every single business day with more and more installments that this Yunjin girl sent you. Of course, you were a high paid model, who wracked up 40-50k a month, but honestly even how much she was paying you was too much.

And the weirdest part of it was she was paying thousands to ten thousand every week, without even a single comment or peep from her. Someone with that kind of spending habits must be someone who has some weird parasocial relationship… right?

Wrong!

It was always apparent that she kept a safe distance, never reaching out or demanding more raunchy photos from you, it just seemed like she was a viewer enjoying the content from afar. The idea of her doing this was perplexing, when people who sent far less on your photos where demanding far more than her. It was in some odd way, endearing to you. Coming to the point where you wanted to reach out to her and just get to know the woman who was practically paying your bills at this point. Not wanting to sound like a creep, you silently slid into her chat box with her, and sent a message. (Only for her to reply in a heartbeat.)

you: “Hey I saw you paying so much on my content thank you so much!”

yunnnnjin: “hi”

yunnnnjin: “yeah np, ur very beautiful”

you: “thank u sm!”

you: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why do you always pay extra? you don’t have to >_>”

yunnnnjin: “ah.. i just find you stunning”

you: “your my biggest supporter thank you!”

yunnnnjin: “this might be a weird question to ask, and I’m not demanding anything from you.”

you: “hm??”

yunnnnjin: “but can we film a collab”

staring right at your computer, your reading glasses was slowly falling down your face as you opened your jaw in disbelief. Did she seriously just say that? After mere minutes of meeting? What the fuck? So maybe she wasn’t any better than a man because what the hell just happened. You thought maybe you could trust her, believe that she wasn’t one of those entitled fans who felt the need to claim every inch of you, but I guess not. Honestly you felt disgusted she could ask this so quickly, but a morbid curiosity filled your mind, this could be a perfect way to make a little more money.

yunnnnjin: “sorry that was weird”

yunnnnjin: “i shouldn’t have said anything im sorry”

you: “… do u have a photo of ur face, like a video or something you can record right now so I know what I’m working with.”

*Yunjin sent 5 video attachments*

Admittedly you were scared to open the files she sent you, maybe this was all a prank and some sick friend was pulling this on you. But something just drew you in as you hovered your mouse on the reveal bar, clicking the photos, the blur was lifted and you were greeted with plethora of videos to look at. From first glance everything seemed to check out, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t just snag these from the internet.

The first video included her in a soft white robe, someone clearly putting makeup on her plush skin as she sat down. Humming a tune in the background that was oddly familiar to you, maybe a little too familiar.

The other 3 videos included her doing such mindless task like doing her make up, drinking coffee, even dancing to the beat of the music. But that’s not what interested you the most, what you gravitated toward was the video, with the first few frames being her face scrunched up, closing her eyes at her screen.

Playing the video, you were greeted by muffled groans, and the sound of skin rubbing against one another, almost in a rhythmic motion. As each time the skin glided across the other, she would let out the most intense moan, pleading with someone in front of the camera. Her eyes darting towards the scream as her mouth opened slightly, not clocking what she was doing until her moans became so loud, that the speakers on your computer started vibrating. Oh! She’s jacking off! While recording herself! How interesting!

That’s not what caught your eye though, it’s when she brung the camera down to the base of her thighs, propping the camera behind her thick perched up cock as she started rubbing it up and down. Her moans turning into pleading as she called out your screen name repeatedly, begging for her release like she was imagining it was your hands around her girth. She was far too much for you— to the point watching the precum dribble from the slit of her member made your skin crawl. You wished it was you making her feel that way, so you decided to continue watching until she reached her climax. Watching her hands slide up and down, quickening the pace and using her cum as leverage to fuck herself using her palm, made you go crazy. It wasn’t until she reached her maximum, as her legs buckled up slightly with her back arched cumming all over the screen. The bed squeaking as she fucked her hands aggressively to reach that climax she-oh-so desired. Your name rolling of her tounge so naturally as “fuckin’ so good” and “shit”, was mixed into it.

you: “wow”

you: “so you are real.”

yunnnnjin: “haha sorry if that last video is weird jst wanted u to know how much i want to collab”

you: “make sense, uhhhhhh i think we can, do u have an address?”

yunnnnjin: “perfect, and here’s my address, but tell me if you ever come over I’ll plan everything ahead”

You might’ve been sick in the head, because now you stood rooted in place standing in front of the door of her apartment. For all you knew she could’ve been a perverted killer on the loose, but seeing that video of her changed the trajectory of your life.

Knocking on the door, you heard someone stumble over themselves as the reached the door with a thud. A small groan escaping from a woman’s lips as she hurriedly pried the door open, your heartbeat racing. Finally as she opened the door, you met her brown gaze as her red hair fell gently over her face and covered a lot of her defining features. “You actually came.” Yunjin taking all of you in, being surprised that it was actually you as you covered your face with a black mask. Without warning she dragged your wrist and lead you into her nicely decorated apartment. All of her decor being of welloff brands and photos of her with 4 or sometimes 5 other girls.

She dragged you over to her bedroom, only to be met with professional lighting setups, cameras and other video recording tools set all around. She was clearly a little too prepared for her own good, down to the box of condoms that sat nicely on-top of the black bedsheets. “I got this all for you— I’m sorry if this is too much, but I didn’t know what else to do when you gave me this opportunity.” Tilting your head in confusion as from your knowledge she must’ve gotten all this equipment recently, since nothing about her profile said “model” or “photographer.”

“Ah thank you but you didn’t need to do all of that, besides I brought my video camera with me for a reason.” You insisted pulling out the black bag inside your even bigger gym back, showing her the camera as you slid it out. She stared back at you, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked back at everything she had prepared, mentally cursing herself when she should’ve know that you’d bring something fancy. “Oh this is a shame—“

“It’s fine, if you have everything set up, we can use this instead of what I’m using now, it’s probably better quality anyways.” And so you did, you began recording the first few clips, just some lingerie shots with Yunjin, or photographs with her tongue pressed agonist parts of your body. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but watching her boxers press up against your stomach, feeling her stiffened cock onto your tummy, made you feral. Greatful that you wore a face mask to cover your true identity, because with out it you’d be drooling by the contact of her boxers.

Thankfully, after snapping some promiscuous photos of the both of you, Yunjin offered to take some solo shots of you. This type without your top out, something that was so natural for you to do, made Yunjin’s breath hitch as your breast pooled into the free air. Fuck, you didn’t know how much she wanted to touch you right now, to have your nipple in her mourn while she played with your other breast. Or fucking your face and letting her precious cum fall down your chin and down to your chest. As the camera clicked on and on, her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking you mindlessly. Having her cum all over the nastiest parts of your body, while you scream her name all day long. And finally ripping off that black mask you used to cover your adorable face with so she could spurt all over you.

It took you a few minutes— actually almost half an hour to tell that her hardened cock was pressing even harder against her fabric, begging to be let out. As her mind drifted in and out of reality, you tried your best to snap her out of trance with no avail. “Yunjin—“ You called out her name once, “Yunjin?” A second time as you inched closer to her in your kneeling position, looking up at her soft gaze as she stared down at you. Before you could say her name one last time you where faced up, inches apart her hard member, looking up at her with, those, eyes.

Yunjin didn’t respond, not for a long time, her hands reaching out to your hair as she continued to click some more photos. Tangling her delicate slim fingers into your hair, taking more and more photos as you called out to her. “Fuck, S/N, you look so good” She mumbled, taking her hands out of your hair to pinch your cheeks up to give her your whole attention. Her breathing heavy as she watched your even movement, and how your face masked heaved up and down as she did so. “Can I fuck you princess, please— please let me use your pretty mouth baby.” Yunjin murmured, pulling her hands away from you as she held the waistband of her boxers.

Without any second thought, you brung your hands up and yanking it off of her, not wanting to admit that you wanted this more than her. As her boxers slid off so easily, you could see her cock take its place as it sprung up, the sheer size of it hitting her stomach as she had a painful erection.

It took you in awe for a few moments, the both of you not doing anything as you stared at her member, while she looked down at you in anticipation. “Holy shit— uh, can you get the video camera then?” You asked while Yunjin shook her head vigorously, tripping over herself to fully take off everything and grab the video taping camera on the side table. Running back, she began recording and pointing the camera down at you, indicating that the shot was already rolling.

You lifted your mask a little bit to place the head of her pink cock to the edge of your lips, placing the mask over, giving her little kitten licks as you do so. The sudden contact of your mouth on her most sensitive part made her let out the dirtiest moan, and bring her free hand to tangle it in your hair. “Fuck, that felt so nice baby.” She groaned out, petting your hair as you continued to bring your mouth to the base. The sheer size of it making you tear up, unable to handle how much you had to put in.

Yunjin was getting off to this, getting off to your gagging, getting off to the feeling of your small mouth around her dick, just getting off to the idea of you. “Is it— hah, too big princess?” She breathed out as she buckled her waist, pushing you to deep throat her thick cock. Leaving you to gag even more as she was pressing up against you, the tip off your nose touching her pelvis as she brung you deeper down. The sounds of your muffled gagging gave her more leverage to fist your hair and fuck into you. Letting dribbles of cum and salvia accumulate as drizzle down your chin. Luckily the mask you wore was able the cover the lewd juices leaking out from you mouth as you took her all.

Bobbing your head back and fourth, her fist was still clawing at your hair as she fucked your most so nicely. “Fuck— fuck…” She groaned, her dick writing in your mouth as you hummed, “mpfh” letting the vibrations of your voice to leave a nice sensation around her. Your tongue swirling around in circles, nose touching her pelvis as hot air coming from your nose sent shivers down her spine. From the way her hips where proceeding to buckle clearly indicated that she was close to climaxing.

With a few more thrusts into your mouth in an almost apathetic way, without any hesitation— she released all of her salty seed into your mouth. Slowing pulling away as she swayed the rest of her cum inside, the lose of contact made a popping noise. “Shit.” Yunjin examined how good you looked as she slowly pulled off your mask, to admire the cum and saliva dribbling down your mouth. Ripping her hands away from your hair, she placed her thumb on where the main stream of liquid resided, and pushed everything back into your mouth. “Swallow it up.” Yunjin demanded, watching you make a show out of it, going as far as to open your mouth after you finished. “Mm, good girl.”

urgahfhhhh I was gonna add so much more but after this I got drained smh. full on smut sex scene cummin’ up when I feel like it LOL!!!!

#huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #kpop gg smut #smut #Le sserafim smut #huh yunjin smut #yunjin smut #huh Yunjin x you #g!p #kpop smut #girl group smut #gxg smut #huh Yunjin x fem reader

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wilwheaton · 3 months ago

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DNC speakers painted a clear picture of Trump, his history as president, and his frightening agenda if he wins a second term. But fact-checkers clouded that image to Trump’s benefit. For example, the Washington Post’s Glenn Kessler challenged Hillary Clinton’s statement that Kamala Harris “won’t be sending love letters to dictators.” Trump himself said in 2018 about North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un: “We fell in love, okay? No, really, he wrote me beautiful letters, and they’re great letters. We fell in love.” Still, Kessler insists the truth of Clinton’s statement about love letters “is in the eye of the beholder.” Clinton’s actual point is that Trump openly admires and cozies up to dictators and autocrats — not a great trait for the leader of the free world. Kessler insists “there is no evidence” Trump personally sent love letters to Kim Jong Un, and while that’s true — he might have just received them and responded by praising Kim publicly — it’s beside the point. Whether Trump literally writes steamy notes to dictators isn’t relevant. The issue is that Trump’s a wannabe despot.

What's wrong with the fact-checkers?

This is why I argue that the Harris campaign has no reason to prioritize talking to a corporate press. These lazy writers who should give back their journalism degrees and the feckless editors they answer to absolutely know better, yet they continue to take Trump at his word while nitpicking every single thing that a Democrat says. It’s Calvinball.

Everyone under 50 knows that corporate media is a waste of time if you want to know the truth, and that’s a real shame because a functioning Democracy demands a strong, independent, fiercely aggressive and publicly accountable press that follows the truth, wherever it leads.

I hope that the current generation of independent journalists (the real ones, like Jessica Yellin, not the Incelfluencers who spew right wing talking points) continues to expose corporate news media as the unreliable propaganda it too often is.

When I hear folks at the Times, the Post, CNN and other corporate outlets complain about how they don’t get any respect from a campaign that is getting its message out without their misleading spin and editorializing, I love it for them, and wonder if they’ll look in the mirror long enough to actually do something to earn back the respect they seem utterly baffled they have lost.

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theorphicangel · 10 months ago

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“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, male masturbation, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh, angsty ishhhh

taglist: @ghost-lantern @mreowmoreww @maomaimao @ahano

PART TWO. (click here for part one.)

“I think you’re lying to me.”

Miguel glances up at you from the dining table that he’s sitting at, currently eating a bowl of cereal. You’re standing opposite him, buttering a seemingly burnt piece of toast.

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re lying to me about not having a valentine’s date.”

Miguel’s eyes move back down to stare at his bowl, spoon mindlessly poking at the cereal but he’s not eating. He pauses for a few seconds, thinking over your words.

“What makes you think that?”

“You?” You point at him with your butter knife. “The Miguel O’Hara, the well-known ladies’ man has not one date tonight? Not a single one out of the countless ladies that he’s been with? Suspicious.”

“Looks like it.” he mumbles. You notice that his tone is dry. Refusing to play along with your teasing.

“See, I don’t believe it. Something’s up, you’re acting…weird.”

It’s ironic you say that. You have no right to judge him on his behavior. After all, you did suck him off on the couch last night. This morning, neither of you had made an attempt to discuss what had happened last night. You acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you, as if you had just gone to bed for an early night.

As for Miguel, it was a whole different story. Unbeknownst to you, he didn’t get any sleep that night. Tossing and turning, his cock aching at the thought of you. Each and every time that he tried to close his eyes, all he could picture was you between his thighs.

It was that look. That look you had in your eye, it was full of hunger and desire. It was a look that proudly told him that all you had wanted to do was to make him feel good.

Reminiscing on this, guilt ran through his bloodstream like poison, questions running through his mind.

Why didn’t he ask you to be his valentine’s sooner? Why didn’t he confess there and then? Why did he have to wait so long to make a move? Do you feel the same as him? Do you feel as if your soul is eating you from the inside out, tempting you to confess how you really feel? If he did confess, would you have canceled all your plans for him? Or would you act like how you’re acting now, pretending that nothing happened?

“I’m not being weird. I’m tired.” He mumbles, still poking at his cereal. In his mind he can already hear the voice of his mother berating him for it.

“Right.” you say, unable to think of anything more to say. Normally, it’s easier than this to start off playful banter between the two of you but you can sense Miguel’s energy was off.

This was almost reminiscent of your earlier days after moving in. How you both exchanged awkwardness and empty conversations that resulted from who's turn it was to take out the trash and the weather forecast.

You figure that perhaps Valentine's Day wasn't the best day for him, assuming that his behavior is the result of something else that happened. You decide to keep your pondering questions to yourself, instead finishing your breakfast in silence. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, seeing multiple posts of friends already waking up to cute valentine gifts and what not.

Audibly, you let out a sigh, wondering if your date – whom you may come across at work– has anything planned for you this morning.

You glance over at Miguel who continues to stare down at his bowl, the obnoxious sound of milk falling off his spoon fills the silence.

Anxiety builds up in your stomach about last night. Was it wrong to ask him to help you? Perhaps he regrets what happened, suddenly wishing he’d never agree to it. Your negative thoughts continue to build up inside you, suddenly taking away your appetite.

You thought last night was…good. Great, even. It had given you confidence for tonight.

if anything was to happen tonight.

Was last night helpful? Most definitely.

Did it spark something in you that you’ve tried to keep buried since the very moment you moved into the apartment? Sure.

Did you want to do it again? Hell yes.

But the question is, does he feel the same?

You take in his demeanor, his low mood and refusal to look up at you. Maybe he hates you so much that he can’t bear to stand you after last night. This brutal assumption was all you needed to get yourself to snap back into reality.

Before disappearing to get changed for work, you take one last glance at Miguel, who continues to ignore you. By the time you step out of your room to leave the apartment for work you find the kitchen empty.

You find a single bowl of cereal on the table that remains unfinished.

Exhausted, miguel steps into the apartment. He thinks it’s nearing 6pm by the time he arrives, taking a little longer than usual to return.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him he can hear your voice calling for him; a personal singsong just for him bouncing off the walls. After locking the door, he turns to hang up his coat before bending down to remove his shoes.

By the time he looks up again, you’re suddenly standing in front of him and for a second it feels like his breath is knocked out of his lungs.

And there you were. Stood in front of him with a cheesy smile across your lips, wearing a dress he’s never seen before. You tilt your head to one side, awkwardly fiddling with your hands as Miguel stares you down.

“Do you think it’s a little too much?”

You move your body a little, providing different angles of the dress. Immediately Miguel’s eyes are drawn to the way that your curves hug at the dress. His eyes are latched onto you, unblinking. As he stands in silence your mind turns into panic, taking it as a negative reaction. Maybe it’s not the right dress.

Your disappointment is more than obvious as you start to turn, heading back to your bedroom where a pile of clothes await your return. “You’re right, I think I should–”

“Perfect.”

Finally, the words leave his throat.

If the words ‘Will you be my Valentine?’ won’t fall from his lips then he makes sure that you’re able to hear this at least.

“It’s perfect.” He repeats, a little louder now. His body forces himself to blink now, eyes stinging at the image of you.

“Are you sure?” Your tone is apprehensive, unable to see the positive correlation between his reaction with his words. “Because I think I have a better dress–”

“No.” Miguel swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I like this one, it looks good. Perfect.”

He likes it.

Relief crashes over you, all doubt washed away. His external validation was the only thing you needed.

“Really?”

Miguel’s patience was wearing thin at your disbelief, it took everything in him not to run up to you and mark you as his. It took everything in him not to run his hands all over your body, to ingest every feature, to worship it, to make love to it and provide you everything you had ever wanted.

God, he wanted nothing more but to prove to you that, yes, you looked fucking gorgeous, stunning even. If there was a moment where he wanted to kick himself in the balls for not asking you out sooner, the moment would be now.

“Really. Don’t change.”

He can’t tell whether this final validation was all you needed or whether his tone was finally believable to you but either way he’s satisfied that he has finally gotten through to you as a smile reaches for your lips.

“Thanks mig’. ” you mutter quickly, turning from him as fast as you could to hide the heat that now spread rapidly across your face. You say nothing more, disappearing as quickly as you had appeared, leaving him in a wondrous state.

“Think you’ll be okay?”

You don’t look up at him, too busy replying back to a message. He watches as your thumbs move across the small screen at lighting speed. “Yeah, yeah, he’s nearly here.” you mumble quietly. Unfortunately, you’re too preoccupied to notice the look of apprehension on Miguel’s face.

There’s something that gnaws at him completely. From the inside, just begging to be let out. He doesn’t know whether it’s a confession, his jealousy or anger at himself. He assumes that this feeling is a mix of all three.

He can tell that you're nervous, teeth softly biting down on your bottom lip, heels tapping the floor with impatience. If you weren’t holding your phone with two hands, he’d bet that you’d be biting at your nails. It takes everything in him not to grab you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him and take a few deep breaths.

Soon enough, a ding is heard from your phone and he watches how your face lights up. All he can do is stand awkwardly as you tell him your date is here to pick you up. Miguel watches you as you make your way to the door, double checking your purse for anything that you may have forgotten.

A wish of ‘good luck’ dies in Miguel’s throat as you slip through the door, leaving him with nothing more than an echoed goodbye.

The second he hears the door lock behind you, a sigh seems to leave his lips. He can smell the lingering scent of a perfume that he had bought for you as a christmas present, a new favorite that you only wore on special occasions.

Silence now begins to torment him, his mind is jumping to conclusions. What if this one date will lead to a second date and then a third and then a tenth? Until eventually the day comes, when you announce that you’ll be moving out.

He’ll be left on his own, again.

And all that follows are bland text messages from you every now and again, checking up on him as a friend whilst he falls back into the shadows, forever stuck with the label of ‘roommate’.

The deafening silence continues to torture him, thoughts emerging to the idea of your date becoming the love of your life. It's completely stupid and useless to jump to this assumption but he can’t help it. He can’t help but tyrannize himself, his insecurity eating away his insides like vermin.

“Fuckin’ hell, you need to get yourself together.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, making his way over to the couch. He collapses with exhaustion, a groan leaving his body as he does so.

It takes him more than a few minutes to realize that he’s sitting in the same spot as last night. The only difference being is that there’s no pretty girl sitting between his thighs, eyes glowing at him with lust and desire. This single thought is enough to make him hard.

A curse or two is muttered under his breath as an uncontrollable bulge begins to grow in his pants. He really shouldn’t. But he does.

His fingertips run over his crotch as he reminisces about last night: the innocent look on your face, your shock at how big his cock was, your attempt to take him whole, desperately trying to fit him into that pretty little mouth of yours, and by god, it took everything in him not to keep you down there.

But that look, that glow almost dared him to. Your eyes silently expressed that this was all for him. Miguel lets out a groan, finally giving in to his needs, a hand slipping into his pants to free his aching cock from his boxers.

He gives slow, long strokes imitating what you had done yesterday. A quiet whimper leaves his throat, his thumb wiping away at the pre-cum at the crown of his length. He remembers the way his body shudders as you left tantalizing little circles at the tip of his cock, practically torturing him.

His thoughts drastically change from imagining your mouth teasing his cock to how he would tease your dripping cunt. He imagines how soaked you would be for him and wonders whether you were like this yesterday, when you were sucking him off, completely soaked through your panties.

Miguel lets out a groan at the mere thought, his hand now increasing the pace of his strokes. You’d be so tight, he thinks, so tight that your eyes would tear up at your cunt trying to take him whole. His cock would stuff every inch of you, your cunt clenching around him, your little whines persuading him to go deeper, trying to prove that you can take it all.

He wraps a tight fist around himself, pumping himself a little faster now, his breath hitched. His free hand grips at a pillow beside him, imagining that he was taking handfuls of your ass as he buried himself deeper into you. He’d start off slow, let you get adjusted to his size before building up a merciless pace.

Miguel imagines your body writhing beneath him, fingertips scratching at his back as he pleases you. Miguel begins to feel heat in his lower abdomen, his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed as he tries to focus on pornographic images of you in his mind. He imagines your whimpers, babbling to him about how good it feels. That’s all he wanted to do. Make you feel good.

“Please, please, please– fuck, don’t stop.”

Miguel’s thighs begin to tense, hips jerking slightly as he fists his cock. It feels too good to stop. It’s wrong but he can’t stop your name from escaping from his lips. He surrenders to the feelings of pleasure and complete euphoria. He feels the cord in his lower abdomen begin to snap away, desperate pleads echo off the walls as he cums, his seed spilling across his hand and lower abdomen.

Coming down from his climax, the realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave and suddenly he finds himself violently drowning. Drowning in a sea of his thoughts and his mistakes. Cruelly, he reminds himself that he can’t be saved and that he deserves to be alone. After all…

he has no one to blame but himself.

click here for part 3

#angel writes #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader fluff

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kiyomitakada · 1 month ago

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i know its a classic. possibly cliche already. but i do wonder about Tumblr In The Death Note Universe probably more than i should

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💅 toxicbff Follow

if i see one more post attributing kira's powers to ~supernatural powers~ instead of the obvious fact that the cia is doing a coup I'm going to start giving You the heart attacks

💅 toxicbff

of course i saw the news how does that not prove my point further

the idea that all the police around the world could be mobilized by one single person is ridiculous (just look at this list of how many civilian militia there are globally)

heart attack victims don't seize the way "lind l tailor" did

i don't know how to tell you that You Can't Kill People Just By Knowing Their Name And Face because this is Real Life and not the newest grimdark marvel villain

people need to stop being scared of the ~bogeyman in the closet~ and wake up to the fact that usamerica is trying to take over the goddamned world

💅 toxicbff

im going to kill you all and nuke this website

#sayonara you weeaboo shits

2,925 notes

👾 lets-go-geeks Follow

DO TRUMP NEXT

🕵🏾‍♀️ penny-penelope Follow

LIKES TO CHARGE REBLOGS TO CAST

16,375 notes

❤️‍🔥 lovesickened Follow

i know its stupid but im so fucking scared for my brother i heard that seven people died this week at the prison he's in and iinjust dont kenow what to do ihate him for ehat he did to mom but i never wanted him to die

#vent tw #delete later

0 notes

🏎 fastandyurious Follow

if i get a single more comment about why i don't tag "genderbend" on my kiratective fics i'm going to blow up the entire building. we don't know EITHER of their genders. why don't YOU tag your mediocre yaoi genderbend instead

🔆 sparkling-world Follow

…OP, you realize the news reports all consistently use "he," right?

🏎 fastandyurious

of course i do???? just because you see something on the news doesn't mean you have to believe it?????? they don't have any information on kira yet but i'm supposed to believe the fbi knows their gender already??????? also kira is literally a fucking girl's name my classmate in elementary school was called kira

🔆 sparkling-world

Kira comes from the Japanese romanization for "killer," it isn't gendered whatsoever.

Also, evidence shows the majority of serial killers are male, so I'd argue that the statistics favor the fujoshis here.

🏎 fastandyurious

well evidence shows that female serial killers are just more fun to write about and I'd argue that you're ignoring my fucking POINT which is that we DON'T KNOW KIRA'S GENDER and if people don't want to read lesbian kiratective they can FUCK OFF MY BLOG

🥚 i-offer-eggman Follow

I offer you an Eggman in these trying times.

🔮 I-stands-for-le-gay Follow

@lashitpostcalligrapher yo can i get "the statistics favor the fujoshis" on my tombstone

#fandom: kira rpf #ship: kiral #never heard it called kiratective before… #also uh. prayer circle for op's classmate lmaoooo

2,107 notes

💃🏻 modelingmadness Follow

BOYCOTT EIGHTEEN MAGAZINE

THEY ALLOW KIRA-SUPPORTING MODELS AND ARE COMPLICIT IN THIS MASSACRE

SOURCES HERE AND HERE (TRIGGER WARNING: KIRA DISCUSSION)

PUSH BACK AGAINST HEART ATTACKS

🧚🏽‍♂️ harubaru Follow

golly gee ^_^ suddenly i feel like taking to the high seas in a way that the eighteen company cant get profit from. oh no ! who left this link here

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

thanks for the link but jesus fucking christ man what happened to free speech. misa-misa's parents were killed by a burglar who kira punished. did you all expect her to just sit there, look pretty, and say nothing about it?

you people only like models when they're nice pictures for you to consume. you only like them two-dimensional and smiling and hot. the second a woman actually speaks her mind she's thrown to the wolves

💃🏻 modelingmadness

DID YOU NOT SEE MY BANNER YOU PIECE OF SHIT

#BLOCKED

140 notes

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

lol. lmao even

#they blocked me but whatever #official eighteen site just said misamisa wont be in the next issue #(eighteen sucks but i kind of want to use it more out of spite now) #so much for apologism huh? #god. i feel sick. #hasn't she been through enough.

1 note

🥷🏻 kira-imagines Follow

Imagine you're going home after a long day. Suddenly there's a sound. "Huh? Whose there" you ask, dropping your keys on the floor. Then you feel it. A knife pressing in your neck.

"Don't move kitten" Kira purrs behind you. "You're all mine now…"

#kiraxreader #kiraxoc #kira #kira rpf #kira investigation #kira fucker #kira fudger #kira lover #kira haters dont touch #kira haters please touch #kira supporters please touch #l

5,733 notes

asahi-the-student-deactivated201

Hello, everyone! My little sister told me about this microblogging platform (I admit, I'm a Twitter refugee) and that many of you are discussing the Kira investigation on here. I'm really interested in hearing what your thoughts are!

💋 sunny-sayu Follow

let the record show he lasted like. a day

#i think it was the imagines that did him in #bro is so sensitive :p

15 notes

kiyomitakada

the world could be beautiful

[ @deathnotetober day 14: trigger ]

#death note #light yagami #sayu yagami #misa amane #lawlight #by uh. technicality.#does 'trigger warning' fit the prompt i hope it does…#also there are two (2) rickrolls in this post #the other links are all to actual fun stuff :3 #good luck #deathnotetober #edit: fixed the FUCKIGN reblog dividers GOD DAMN IT #unreality #caps #edit 2: fixed the reblog dividers again theyre transparent now #…………wow i really just. spent four hours on this huh.#maybe i am experiencing slight mania #only slight #death note tumblr

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rueclfer · 3 months ago

Text

crave to do it again // touya todoroki

when just for a second, it all felt so simple

a/n: geettt this shit out of my drafts!!! is this the fucking angst yall wanted!!!

@bbluefllame 😔

At 12:00AM, it was unusual for the city to go quiet. Aside from the buzzing lamp post, crickets chirping, and the occasional chatter from the nightcrawlers down the street, you wondered where everyone had gone. Maybe they knew what was to come.

The cool night breeze was circulating through your apartment along with soft ambient music emanating from your record player. You were fists deep in various articles of clothing, crumple up notes, loose photos, and more all haphazardly thrown in dingy cardboard boxes.

"Touya, look." You call his attention away from the wad of paper in his lap. "You have to wear this tomorrow." You held up the "If lost, return to Y/N" shirt you had gotten him as a gag gift for his birthday last year.

"Asshole." He chuckles. "If any part of that shirt survives, they'll come for your ass next."

"Heavy on the if." You mutter, sadly smiling to yourself, letting your hands fall back into your lap.

You tightly clutched the black fabric, looking closely at the worn cracked lettering before bringing it up to your nose, deeping breathing in his faint lingering scent of citrus and cedar mixed with laundry detergent.

You two were sat criss-crossed on your bed with a box sitting in between you two. You occasionally glanced up at him to see his furrowed brows focus on whatever item he had in his hands, silver hair damp from the shower, and him sporting an old band tee you two passed back and forth as a pajama shirt. You wished you could take a picture of this moment.

Everything almost seemed normal. Almost. You tried not to let the dread brewing in your stomach overwhelm you, but your hands had been clammy all day, you couldn't keep any food down, and you were sure you were less than 12 hours away from a breakdown.

"Gross. Don't know why I kept this." He flips a photograph over to you, revealing a creased family photo of the Todorokis burnt around the edges, but every single face still legible. "Throw it away for me, yeah?"

"Absolutely fucking not." You snatch the photo from his fingers, peering closer to see him in his childish glory- missing teeth, tousled hair, and a wide grin that had diminished with age.

It was rare for you to see a photo of Touya before he joined the league. You never told him, but the night he revealed his full name to you, you scoured the internet for any photos from his previous life, but only ever finding the haunting school photo from news articles announcing the death of pro-hero Endeavor's eldest child.

"I'm not throwing any of these things away." You held the photo close to your chest, tears suddenly welling up in your eyes the moment they met with his own.

His eyes widen for a split second, before faltering into a soft, regretful gaze.

"There it is." He sighs.

Touya shoved the box in between you two off of the bed, reaching over to take you in his arms.

"You know, I was waiting for the waterworks all fucking day, I was almost sure you were looking forward to me dying."

"Shut up, I'm fine." You say, tilting your head back, letting the tears settle back in your eyes.

"You don't have to be fine, sweetheart." He mutters, bringing your head into his chest, holding you tight. "We can talk about it, you know."

"It's just.." You begin, pulling back with tears streaming down your cheeks now "..look at how perfect this is, Touya." You plea. "Look at us." You gesture to the mess of your bedroom with his belongings and boxes scattered around.

In another timeline, it would have been an image of you two moving in together. It's your first night. You're figuring out how to split the closet with him. Maybe you can have breakfast for dinner for the fun of it. You'll try to sleep early, but you two are giggling to yourselves until early in the morning. You two would sleep in until mid-afternoon, and spend the rest of the day in bed. He'd stay.

"I know. I'm sorry." He whispers, reaching up and swiping away your tears with his thumbs.

You knew that despite the end coming near, it was all still perfect- meeting him, knowing him, falling in love, spending his last moments with him. Last moments. The dread was creeping up your throat. How can you make time stop?

Touya knew deep in his heart that if there was anything that could have saved him, it would have been you. If he had just been a bit less rotten, if he had been born in a different hour, in a different body, he would have married you, given you a quiet life, and anything else you wanted. He wouldn't have this festering darkness inside of him threatening to overcome with every passing second. He wouldn't have been born with a single purpose. His life could have been yours for the taking.

"Promise you don't hate me for this?" He hangs his head to rest on your shoulder.

"I could never hate you." You rake a hand through his hair, letting the other rest on the nape of his neck. "I'll think about you for the rest of my life. I'll celebrate your birthday every year. I'll talk to you every night before I go to sleep. I'll tell everyone about my partner and how big his heart was and how he made the stars shine for me. I'll love you forever."

"In another universe, I would have given you everything." He murmurs.

You two silently settled in bed, tightly wrapped in each other's arms as you laid your head on his chest, and taking in his heartbeat by memory, being sure to lock the gentle sound in your head.

"What do you think you'll do after?" He breaks the silence, hand running up and down your back.

"Maybe find God or something?" You sigh. "I dunno."

"Don't make me fucking laugh." He chuckles, almost making your eyes water again from hearing and feeling the deep vibrations through his chest. "God does not want to find you, that's for damn sure."

"Well ask him for me, when you see him, yeah?"

"So sorry to break this to you, babe, but I don't think I'll be meeting God tomorrow." You could hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I guess I'll see you in hell then." You look up at him, meeting his eyes in the moonlight leaking in from the open window. "Put in a good word for me."

"That's more like it." He presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

You two silently ask yourselves the same question. Will he be fine after tomorrow? Will you be fine after tomorrow? Will that little boy in the burnt photo be at peace? Will you be able to go on?

"Any last secrets?" You ask, half joking. "Or any burning piece of information you've been keeping from me? Now would be a great time to unpack."

He takes a moment to think.

"When you go through the rest of my clothes, in one of my pant pockets, I still have the wrapper of the condom we used from the first time we fucked."

You slap your palm down on his chest.

"Dumbass." You laugh. "Why the fuck would you still have that?"

"What can I say, I'm a sentimental guy. Put it in a scrapbook or some shit." He shrugs, smiling at the thought.

"Yeah. I will." You half laugh, half choke out, silent tears now staining his shirt. "I have a secret too."

"Go for it."

"What if I told you I already killed your dad so there's no need for you to go out tomorrow?"

He shifts his body to face you now, slinging an arm over your waist and pulling your body flush to him. The air was filled with you silently sobbing behind your hands. You told yourself you'd be brave for him, but the bitterness in your heart had been leaking. It was circulating in your blood, and you couldn't pretend like it wasn't killing you from the inside anymore.

"I'd say, cool." He presses his cheek against your forehead. "And then we'll stay like this all day. Or maybe we'll take the first plane ride out of Japan. Wherever you'd wanna go, I'll follow you."

"Yeah. I'd like that." You say in between sniffles. "I think it'd be nice to leave Japan. Just for a bit."

You wondered if this was acceptance or denial. You could laugh and cry about it now that you're in Touya's arms while you two were waiting for the sun to come up, but for a long time, you saw the headlights in the distance, and the humming slowly growing louder in anticipation as tomorrow crept closer and closer.

In this moment, you accepted that you would grieve for him much longer than you were able to love him. You denied that he would be leaving you in a few short hours. You accepted that this was a necessary evil that had to be taken care of. You denied that this was the only way.

In another universe, you won't have to miss him. In another universe, he doesn't have to die for this. In every single one, you love him for as long as you'll remember him. In every single one, he'll survive through you.

You eventually hear his breathing slow down into deep inhale and exhales through his mouth. This was your last act of love for each other while you two walked this Earth together- a quiet night in each other's arms.

You memorized the patterns of his scars, the way they brushed against your skin. The color of his eyes you would see in the ocean. His silver hair still clumped in your hairbrush sitting on your bathroom counter. His love dazed expression is captured on a photo strip hidden in your wallet. Maybe he'll live forever, after all.

He'll wonder how long it'll be under you check your glove department for his letter. Knowing you, it'll at least be a few weeks.

"Idiot." He thinks to himself.

Your laugh echos in his head right before he's engulfed in flames. He wonders if your homemade cream could heal these new burns. Can you see him now? Tell him you're proud. Death isn't so sweet as he imagined, he wants to tell you, but seeing your face dissolve with his vision as he burns up is as close to heaven as he'll get.

In the end, you were right. You always were. It is nice to leave Japan. Just for a bit.

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi angst #mha touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #mha todoroki touya #touya todoroki angst #mha touya #touya angst

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obsessedwithceleste · 8 months ago

Text

Reflections

Mattheo Riddle x reader

Interlocked pt 1

Based on this request.

Summary: reflection (n) a serious thought or consideration.

word count: 2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

You feel your hands beginning to tremble as you stare up at the large statue of a golden griffin that supposedly lead to the headmaster's office. An owl had dropped a letter on your bed just hours ago summoning you to him, and since then, you had been racking your brain trying to think of a reason for his request.

It was the last day of term before you were to return home for the summer. Most of your friends were in the dorms packing at that very moment, but not you. No, you were standing here, wondering why on Earth you were being called to the headmaster's office.

Your grades were fine, you hadn't gotten into any spats with a professor, or another student for that matter, you hadn't lost your house any points. You couldn't think of a single reason Dumbledore would want to see you. No. That wasn't true you realize. You were one of the names on the list of Dumbledore's Army.

But then why were none of your other classmates being summoned?

Before you could worry yourself any further, you look up at the statue in front of you.

“Lemon drop” you say timidly, not entirely sure that the password would work.

To your surprise however, the griffin lets out a loud grinding sound as it turns slowly, revealing a hidden staircase behind. Taking a deep breath and stealing yourself, you forge ahead, carefully making your way up the winding staircase.

You find yourself standing in a large study, bookshelves lining the walls, and previous headmasters roaming about the grande picture frames hanging above. Peering about, the room appears to be empty as you make your way up to the large desk that is centered in the room.

You didn’t mean to snoop. Well, maybe a little. A handful of seemingly random objects lay strewn atop the dark mahogany, a glimmer of silver catching your eye. Picking up the small object carefully, you find it to be a thick, silver ring embedded with dark emeralds. An ornate letter S carved into the heavy metal.

“I see you’ve taken a fancy to the Slytherin ring,” the raspy voice of Professor Dumbledore states as the man seems to materialize next to you.

Startled, you jolt back from the desk, the ring clattering against the wood as it falls from your hand.

“Professor! I’m so sorry. I hadn’t meant to snoop,” you rush, holding your hands tightly behind your back.

With a light chuckle, Dumbledore picks up the silver ring, a contemplative look on his face.

“Strange things heirlooms. This particular ring belonged to a Salazar Slytherin, you may have heard of him,” he says, a glimmer of mischief in his eye.

Your jaw drops open in shock. The Salazar Slytherin?

“In fact, all of these heirlooms once belonged to the houses of one of the founders.” He continues, picking up a heavy looking silver necklace dripping with sapphires and diamonds to inspect. “Curious that you choose that ring.”

“It just caught my eye,” you mumble. “What are you doing with all these anyway, Professor?”

The old man pauses, considering the jewels clasped tightly in his hand.

“I’ve been searching for something. Or somethings, rather. Which leads me to the reason you were brought here today. It is my understanding that you were one of the students involved with Harry Potter’s, tutoring sessions, shall we say?”

You hold your breath. Here it comes. You must be in some sort of trouble you think as you give a slight nod.

“You must know then, that Voldemort has returned.” Dumbledore states, a seriousness taking over his face.

Again, you nod your head slightly. You had heard what had happened at the department of mysteries obviously.

“And I assume you also know he has a son at this very school?”

Of course. Mattheo Riddle. A Slytherin, obviously, in your class. Mischievous and rowdy, with a reputation for breaking the hearts of girls throughout the school. How could you not know of him?

“Yes professor.”

Dumbledore once again takes a moment to observe you and you shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

“You must know, y/n that what I am about to ask next is not to be taken lightly.”

You blink back at the old man, not at all sure where this was going.

“During times like these, it is essential that we gather as much information as possible in order to overcome our enemies,” he explains, eyes never once leaving yours.

“I don’t think I quite understand what you’re asking sir. You want me to become a spy?”

Dumbledore pauses, head tilting as if trying to put his next words together as carefully as possible.

“It would be, quite beneficial, to have someone form a sort of- attachment to the young Mr. Riddle. Someone for example, who isn’t as connected to Mr. Potter, but still dedicated to his cause.”

“Someone like me.” You finish, taking in his words. “You want me to date Mattheo Riddle to gain information for you.”

You can see the glimmer in Dumbledore’s eyes once more as he ever so slightly gives a nod of his head.

“Of course a decision doesn’t need to be made immediately. You’ll have the summer to think things over, though y/n I must ask that this conversation remains private.”

His words churn in your head as you take a moment to truly understand what was being asked of you. If Voldemort had truly returned, this would send you right into the heart of the snake pit. A dangerous position indeed.

“Of course professor,” you mumble, as the old man leads you back in the direction of the staircase.

As you make your way back to your dormitory, you can’t shake the proposal from your mind. It was a monstrous ask for a teenager to become a spy so early in what you were sure was inevitably going to be war. But you were also sure that Dumbledore wouldn’t request this of you unless he was certain that it would be relatively safe. Especially considering you’d be within the confines of the school.

You let out an anxious sigh. You certainly had a lot to think about in the coming months.

Mattheo shivered feeling the cold draft that seemed to be a permanent resident of Malfoy Manor.

After his father’s self-proclaimed abominable travesty at the department of mystery, he had been moved into the manor with the rest of his father’s mindless followers. The only solace he had was the fact that both Draco Malfoy and Lorenzo Berkshire had been brought to reside in the manor as well, the three banding together to make it through the summer.

He sat with Enzo now in the library, the fireplace giving off just enough light for them to make out the small black print on the pages. This is really all life had been recently. Sitting in the library waiting for one of the adults to come calling for one of them before coming back to disassociate.

“He’s calling for you. Father told me to fetch you,” Draco says, from the library doorway, as if vocalizing Matthew’s thoughts. His pale face looked especially hollow, as if he’d seen a ghost- or more likely the Cruciatus curse.

Mattheo let’s put a deep sigh, dropping his book onto the table beside him as Enzo looks at the two with pity.

He despised the fact that his father had returned. Utterly loathed it in fact. Slytherin students at Hogwarts were already pariahs in the halls. But add on the last name Riddle? He was set up for failure, he thought bitterly to himself. And now with the whole Dark Lord nonsense. Mattheo sighed in annoyance.

He knew he should fear that thing that was his father, but honestly, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d spent his entire life ostracized, assumed the worst of, beaten down, what more could the Dark Lord really take from him? He’d already made his life a living hell by simply giving him a name. He just didn’t care.

Mattheo lazily made his way to the Master’s wing of the mansion which his father had quickly taken over, displacing the Malfoys to a small guest room on the opposite side of the house. After placing the blame for his most recent failure on Lucious Malfoy, his father was reveling in humiliating the man in any way possible. He knew it was hitting Draco hard too, but they were too proud to say anything.

Finally reaching the large, perhaps intimidating double doors of the study his father was currently presiding in, Mattheo didn’t even need to knock as the doors flew open, eyes turning towards him.

The usual goons were there. Bellatrix of course, Lucius and Narcissa, Pettigrew, Severus. Even Theodore's father Nott Sr. They all watched in silence as he stepped a few feet into the room.

“Mattheo,” the eerie voice of his father hisses with glee as the boy enters.

“Father.” He replies dryly.

“Just the one I was looking for.”

“Well you did summon me.”

The Dark Lord glared at the petulant boy in front of him.

“Mattheo, dear boy, come closer.”

Mattheo frowns at his father’s request, grimacing at the thought of being anywhere near the ghastly creature. Nevertheless, he walks confidently further into the room, coming to stop directly in front of his father.

It didn’t take long for Mattheo to feel his father begin to try and pry into his mind, scavenging for something, though Mattheo wasn’t sure what. He steeled himself, having become rather familiar with occlumency since his father’s return. It really wasn’t difficult to off-track the Dark Lord, he had tended to see what he wanted to see, but not many of his followers had seemed to pick up on that particular trait.

After a few minutes of this, the Dark Lord seemed to grow frustrated.

“Mattheo, I have a special task for you,” he announces finally, a large grin overtaking his face. “You should feel honored that such a role is being entrusted with you. Do you feel honored boy?”

“Of course.” Mattheo grits out.

In actuality however, he was growing nervous. He knew that Lorenzo had already been tasked with fixing a broken vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts. And Draco- well. Draco had been assigned a task as well. Both seemed impossible. It was only a matter of time before he was assigned a task himself.

The Dark Lord smiled menacingly at his son.

“We want a spy. Someone in Dumbledore’s little army to feed us information about his sacred chosen one.” He announces. Bellatrix lets out a cackle from beside him.

“Father, I’m not quite sure you’ve thought this through. I’m not exactly in the good graces of most of Hogwart’s population,” Mattheo responds, slightly annoyed.

His father’s face immediately turns to one of rage.

“Silence you impertinent child!” He bellows.

“You dare question your master?” Bellatrix screeches. “Let me punish him master. Let me practice on him like I did little Draco,” she begs.

Mattheo frowns at the woman in disgust.

“Silence Bellatrix. All in good time. But Mattheo you will not be the spy, no. I am no mere amateur to the games that Dumbledore will play. No, dear boy, your task is to lure in someone from Dumbledore’s order. Form an- attachment. Seduce them, do what you must and they will spill their secrets. Affection makes one weak Mattheo. Love might have prevented me from getting rid of their savior once. But it will not again. Love makes you weak, and they will learn.”

Mattheo looks at his father with disdain. A ridiculous task, he thought. And definitely something far better suited for Lorenzo who would have absolutely no trouble chatting up some witch. But that’s just the thing wasn’t it. The Dark Lord wanted to see them squirm. Struggle.

“Is that all father?” He asks, growing bored.

The Dark Lord considers the boy in front of him before waving his hand.

“Bring me the Berkshire boy. Bellatrix needs a new play thing.”

God I'm slow😫 idk why this was so hard to write but here we are🫠

tag list: @elsafromcabinsix

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #matteo riddle #slytherin #harry potter universe #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy #matteo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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C.C [Incubus Yan] and Bodyguard Reader

The horny simp levels would be off the charts

I imagine C.C first notices them as a bouncer at one of the clubs he frequently visits/djs for. Falls head over heels for Reader the night they apprehend a crazy fan seeking to hurt the devil for blocking them online. He could've take care of them on his own, but there's something about seeing a person choke slam someone attempting to take his life that really lights a fire in him. Offers to pay them triple whatever their former bosses were paying if they quit on spot. They'll be doing pretty much everything they did at their old job. Keeping a close eye on C.C, keeping him safe......washing his car in nothing but a tank top and shorts in the summer, moving his dresser just a little more to the right so he can get a good look at them bent over and sweaty, let him use their thights as a pillow....

Makes a point to give Reader their paycheck by tucking it in their back pocket just because he feels like it. If they ever want their yearly raise early the strip pole in his room is always ready and waiting. Sure, they're supposed to protect him, but if anyone puts a scratch on his human their entire bloodline has hell to pay. Unless their injuries are life threatening, he refuses to let them to go to the hospital as they have the perfect nurse right here.

C.C drools over this pour soul at every turn, but if anyone does the same he is fuming. Stalks his fan pages for any mentions of Reader, starting wars with random people on his alt accounts for their crimes. How dare they post/talk about Reader's ass online - that ass is his and the only pictures of ut should be in his phone.

Fan: C.C, C.C!

C.C: Hey, babe! Want a picture?

Fan: Yes, but I was actually wondering if that person that follows you around is single? They helped me find my ring the other night and I wanted to thank them...

C.C: ...

C.C: Know what, why don't we go take that picture up on the roof? The lighting is super nice this time of night.

C.C: Hey, love - got your paycheck here. Decided to try a different method this time around - no biggie

The method in question:

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere imagines #yandere incubus #C.C my oc #suggestive #yandere demon x reader #yandere male

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hockeyboysimagines · 25 days ago

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Love so sweet

Pairings: Arber Xhekaj x OC(Tabitha Hawkins)

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angst, toxicity, language.

I know I said I wasn’t posting anything new but I have such bad writers block that this was all I could do💁🏼‍♀️ Hope you guys enjoy it🤍

“Well you can either come get your shit or I can light it on fire. Up to you.”

Arber was laughing on the other end of the phone “I’ll come get it later.”

“I’ll leave it on the porch.” She hit the red hang up button before he could answer and chucked her phone on the couch with a loud angry “UGH!”

This was their 100th breakup or something and it got worse and more difficult each time. She had this masochistic complex apparently that made her put herself through this over and over.

When things were good, they were great. When things were bad?

Yikes.

War was more peaceful.

She put the box on the porch and slammed the door, making her way angrily through the house.

She threw herself down on her bed, a bed they’d just been in the day before yesterday and closed her eyes. She could still smell his cologne on her sheets and she wondered how long it would take for it to fade. The breakups never lasted long enough for it to go away before he was back in it, and sometimes she wondered if it would be easier to stay broken up if she wasn’t reminded of him every night they weren’t together. The longest stretch of time, a week a half, hadn’t been enough to get rid of it even with two washes. She didn’t really want it to fade. It was the only thing that got her through the few days she spent without him.

As crazy as it sounded though, if she had known things would be this way with him she would still go home with him that first night every single time. She loved him, maybe too much, and she would sacrifice her peace if it meant she got to keep him. Not because she didn’t want anyone else to have him, but because she loved Arber more than anything and losing him would be like cutting her own heart out. Messy and painful.

She glanced over at her walls that were full of pictures of her and Arber and she felt hot tears prick at her eyes. Why they couldn’t be like they were in the pictures all the time was beyond her. It wasn’t fair. Things had been going so well lately she supposed she should have seen this coming. She’d heard down the line that Arber had been out at the bar flirting with some girl. It had made her so angry she called him, cursed him out and the blocked his phone number for several hours. When she’d calmed down enough to tell him to come get his things she hasn’t even let him explain himself before she ripped into him again. Whatever he had to say wouldn’t change how she was feeling. She hadn’t even asked him if it was true. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t, but it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it and she was starting to believe it. It was hard, the position she was in with him. Guys before him were just guys. But Arber had an elevated status, especially here in Montreal. Everyone knew him, girls threw themselves at him, and while he never indulged them, it still filled her with anxiety and paranoia every time he went out with the guys and she didn’t go. But when she was there and it happened it enraged her to the point where she wanted to commit a crime. It was a no win situation for everyone but especially her. His teammates, who she knew loved her, assured her till they turned blue that he never even looked at girls and he hadn’t since they met. They told her she was being silly and that they would be truthful with her if he was. She believed them mostly, but it had gotten so bad at one point that Cole and Kirby had showed up at her house and say he’s down to talk with her.

“Tabitha.” Cole said leaning forward “I’m telling you whatever you heard is a lie. I swear on my mother.”

“Yeah I swear on his mother too.” Kirby said bumping her shoulder.

She laughed and wiped under her eyes as Cole continued with a small smile “Arber isn’t fucking any girls and if he was, you can be sure I’d tell you and then beat him up.”

“You’d beat him up PLEASE.” Kirby said rolling his eyes “We’d find someone to beat him up.”

It had made things better for a while but the rumors killed her. She spent more time crying over fake news than she didn’t and she tried to keep most of it to herself but it bubbled over a lot and Arber usually suffered for it. She knew that she was the problem most of the time but it was out of her control now. Arber loved her and she knew it, but she always felt she was on the brink of losing him. But when things were good, she almost forgot the bad. Being with Arber was a gift. He was so wonderful to her and made her feel like the prettiest girl in the world. She only wished that she believed it like he did.

She felt nauseous, mad, and mentally exhausted. Then, she remembered she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon and the anxiety of the breakup was churning the acid in her stomach like a spoon in coffee, bubbling occasionally to remind her that it could turn into vomit at any minute.

But the idea of getting up and walking to the kitchen made her wanna cry so she stayed put, swallowing down the nausea and closing her eyes. Her weight sank down into her mattress the longer she was there and her stomach began to settle. She was so tired and her eyes slipped closed as she took deep even breaths.

Much better she thought to herself as she felt her nerves begin to die down and she fell back into normal Tabitha, sending Tabitha the raging bitch back to wherever she came from. What a relief. A heavy feeling came over her and she wondered for a second if she would fall asleep. Every time she had one her episodes she got so tired and hoped this time she’d actually fall asleep so she could miss him coming for his things all together.

No such luck of course.

She wasn’t sure how long she was laying there but she heard his truck pull up, and then the sound of a key in the lock so she got up. Was he kidding? She had clearly said his things were on the porch.

She came around the corner and found Arber in the doorway and frowned at him, arms across her chest. “What are you doing? I put your stuff on the porch.” It came out meaner than she meant for it to, and she winced at her own harshness. She was always mad until she saw him and then all her anger went out the window. More than anything she had hoped he would leave and not come in at all so she could be mad and cry in peace.

Of course he didn’t.

He rolled his eyes and tossed the her house key on the table “Returning this.”

Ouch

“Great. Thanks. Bye.” She snapped.

He chuckled “That’s all I get? Okay then. Here’s your stuff.” He pushed a box at her with his foot “I think I got it all. If anything’s missing just text me I guess.”

“Sure.” She said with a shrug knowing she would end up texting him because she was stupid.

The air in her house was awkward and heavy as they stared at each other before he cleared his throat “Well see you. I have somewhere to be.”

“What?”

“I’m going out with the guys.”

Her stomach tightened and she looked at him surprised. It wasn’t unlike Arber to say he was doing stuff with the guys and then not actually do anything. It also wasn’t unlike Arber to say he was doing stuff with the guys and then leave early. Both of those things usually coincided with a breakup, and filled Tabitha with anxiety. Though she’d accused him of it on more than one occasion without any real evidence, Arber wasn’t a cheater.

She cleared her throat “Oh? Already. Well I hope you have a good time…where?” She didn’t know why she even asked, because as this was a breakup, she shouldn’t have cared. But not knowing where he was going would fill her with anxiety for the rest of the night.

“Why do you care Tabitha?” He asked holding one hand out.

She shrugged “Just wondering-“

“You broke up with me remember? Why does it matter what I’m doing.” He was frowning at her, eyebrows furrowed, but his eyes didn’t show he was angry. He looked sad. She hated making him sad and she found herself doing it more often than not.

“It doesn’t. Can you just get out now.” She crossed her arms and motioned to the door with her chin. All the rage she’d swallowed down earlier was beginning to bubble back up and she wanted him to leave before she exploded. She hated yelling at him, and always felt like a psycho when it was over. He never called her that, but Tabitha hated the way he looked at her when she was flipping out.

“Absolutely. Don’t call me.” He said with a nod and a step towards the door.

“Ha. I don’t plan on ever calling you again. Enjoy single life.”

“You know I don’t get you.” He stopped and shook his head “You break up with me, tell me to get my stuff and then pick a fight with me.”

“I’m not picking a fight with you. I could care less what you do. Go ruin some other girls life.”

The minute the words left her she regretted them, covering her mouth, and felt even worse when she saw hurt cloud his face. Even though they were broken up, the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. Especially when they were both hurting enough.

He nodded slowly “So I ruined your life yeah? Okay.” He braced a hand on the door handle and turned it.

“That’s not-Arber. That’s not what I meant to say I-“

“Save it. You’ve said enough for me.” He looked upset, not angry and turned away from her but she crossed the floor and stopped him, bracing a hand on the frame to block his way. Realistically he could have moved her arm with a finger and left but he stopped and that gave her hope. Maybe he didn’t want to leave. Or maybe he was going to turn to her and finally tell her he’d had enough of the fighting and wanted to end things for good. That would be her absolute worst nightmare come to life. She wasn’t even sure what she would do if that ever happened.

“I didn’t mean that.” She said looking up at him.

He looked at the wall above her head frowning “But you said it.” He said quietly before he looked down at her “Do you really feel like I ruined your life?”

“No of course I don’t I just said it cuz I was angry and I’m all mixed up and I don’t know why I get like this. I’m sorry I just-I’m just sorry.” She looked at her feet swiping at a tear that had spilled down her cheek and sniffled. She heard him sigh and then his arms wrapped around her.

“Don’t cry.” He rested his chin on the top of her head and they stood that way for a few moments “Hey please don’t cry.”

She looked up as tears slipped over her waterline and trickled down her cheeks “I didn’t mean that.”

She didn’t mean that. Arber had made her life better from the minute he came into it. Though the fighting was hard, it was worth it to have him around. She hated that those words had come out of her mouth. Hurting Arbers feelings wasn’t easy and she remembered every single time she had. It left a lasting impression on her and she always said she would never do it again and yet here she was.

He looked down at her “I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

Her eyes bounced between his and his mouth several times before he couldn’t take it anymore and leaned in.

A tale as old as time with them.

Like a lit match on gasoline they stumbled back to her bedroom, and Arber one hand tossed her on the mattress, yanking his shirt over his head with the other one in one fluid movement. She pulled at her shirt and threw it across the room and it landed on the lampshade, engulfing the room in semi darkness. She sat up, pulling him towards her by the waistband of his jeans and sprung the button and the zipper off them. He stepped out and nodded for her to move up the bed so he could pull hers off. His rough and calloused fingers moved down the skin of her legs as he slid her jeans over her feet, leaving her in a pair of pink panties and a matching bra. Though Tabitha and Arber had a lot of sex, she always felt exposed in front of him. Like each time was the first time. She felt a redness come to her cheeks as he reached a hand forward and ghosted a finger down her neck before splaying his hand across her chest to push her backwards, moving over top of her.

“You know I love you right?” Arber said against her neck, tongue sliding over her skin.

“Yes.” She gasped out, nails digging into his skin.

“Good. Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Tabitha relaxed under him eyes closing, as he reached down, pushing one leg wider, and bringing the other one up into an arch. He ran a hand gently down her face, before it traveled down and closed on her throat. Her whole body was shaking, goosebumps blooming across her skin, heart pounding out of her chest.

He gripped the skin of her legs tightly as he eased in agonizingly slow and bottomed out, letting out a long low noise before he pulled out again. Tabitha sucked in a breath and locked her back up, fingers gripping the sheets as he pushed back in more firmly, and locked her leg around his hip. His hand squeezed her neck gently as he moved finding a rhythm. Tabitha was overwhelmed for a minute, the high of the sex and the fight was almost too much. She closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her, lips moving slowly against hers and then down her neck.

“Look at me.” He said hand moving from her neck to her jaw and holding it in place.

Her right leg was bent at an uncomfortable angle and the sheet was bunched under her back painfully but he was giving it to her so good she wanted to scream out in pleasure, but because she was still mad at him she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She gripped the skin of his lower back and drug her nails across it hard. She heard him let out a hiss of pain and before she could even smile he bit down on her collarbone hard.

“Ow Arber!” She reached a hand up and slapped him, missing his cheek and hitting him in the jaw.

He smiled “You know what I like.” He he whispered as he let his head fall into her neck, hair tickling her skin. He moved his lips across her jaw to her mouth, tongue sweeping across her lower lip as he kissed her deeply, weight pressing down on top of her.

Damn him she thought as she felt tension build in her stomach. It would have been so much easier to stay mad at him if he was ugly or a bad fuck but he was neither and she couldn’t even think straight as she surged closer to her orgasm, sweat sheening across her stomach and chest. Arber tangled his fingers in her hair, and pushed deeper than he had before, his signature move and she felt that all too familiar feeling of falling off the ledge and closed her eyes. Pleasure washed over her in waves as she fell into euphoria underneath him. His body grew heavy on top of hers, and after a moment he pulled out slowly, and laid down next to her.

She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her.

She sat up, arms holding the sheet tightly across her chest. She had the beginnings of a hickey on her collarbone and her hair was a mess. She scooted away from him.

“You okay?” He asked awkwardly glancing at her.

She stared at him for another second and rolled away from him wordlessly. He hated this part. After sex for them when things were good was great. But when they were arguing it almost always meant she gave him the cold shoulder. He usually hung around for a while till she decided she wasn’t mad at him anymore.

Though sometimes that lasted for hours.

He laid there a second looking at her back and shook his head disappointed with himself for giving it up so easy. His mom had always said he was stubborn but with Tabitha he had no resolve. He just couldn’t say no to her, or stay away from her. Even though she had broken up with him this time, there had been other times where he ended it and he still found himself at her apartment or finding some way to get in contact with her. At this point in their relationship they were so entangle he wasn’t sure he could get away from her even if he wanted to.

Not that he did of course.

She drove him every way except up, but to be in her presence was to be completely intoxicated by her.

Tabitha had peaked his interest the second he saw her. Tall and willowy in build, long shiny hair, big white teeth, and an attitude that made Satan look like a house pet.

She’d picked him up in a bar with a big smile and a few hair flips and nearly a year later they were here. She was both the best and the worst woman he’d ever met.

There was two Tabitha’s and he felt pretty fortunate to know both of them. Under all the attitude, she could be real sweet when it was just them. There was no feeling quite like the one he got when she smiled at him, or reached for his hand, or pushed her face into his neck right before she fell asleep. Though she had the tendency to get under his skin, she didn’t really have any major flaws.

The worst part about her was her friends. They were awful, and they hated him, and truly they never gave him a chance to begin with. They decided after that first breakup that he was a sleazebag and there was nothing he could do to rehab his image no matter how hard he tried so he gave up. He avoided them like the plague, making sure to never be around when they were if he didn’t have to be. His friends were a little more forgiving thankfully. His teammates he sometimes thought would take her side over his if one of their breakups ever became permanent. His parents loved her even more than the team did, and she’d fit right into his life in Hamilton when she’d made the trip home with him last spring. She was blunt, funny and charming and magnetic enough to draw people in and make them wanna stay, him included. No one was perfect, but to him she came pretty close.

And as much stress as the back and forth the relationship brought to him, he couldn’t let her go. The idea of her with someone other than him made him wanna throw up and rage, so instead he put up with the fights and breakups. It sounded bad but it was all true. He really did love Tabitha. In fact he loved her too much, and he wanted to spend forever with her. He didn’t love fighting with her, but he would deal with it till he died if it meant she wasn’t with anyone else.

It felt a little selfish if he was honest. He wondered sometimes if someone else could make her happier than he could. Maybe he was the problem and it would be best to let her be with someone who could do for her what he obviously couldn’t. He’d even suggested it to her once and it had made her cry for nearly 10 minutes and he felt so bad he never suggested it again.

He reached a hand out and ran it through the hair behind her ear, wondering if she was really sleeping or faking so he’d leave her alone, when he heard his phone buzz twice.

Are you coming out?

He read Cole’s message and bit his lip thinking for a minute No probably not. Not feeling it. Going to stay in tonight.

Okay tell Tabitha I said hi haha

Fuck off.

He set his phone down right as she began to stir.

She half turned “I thought you said you were going out with the guys.” She looked relieved to find him still next to her in bed and rolled over to face him fully.

He shrugged and reached a hand out to run it down her shoulder “I was going to but…I figured I can just go out with them when we break up next week.”

She grinned and made a face “Ha ha.”

“Kidding. I’d prefer we not break up next week or anymore at all maybe? I’m getting tired of fighting with you like this.”

She nodded and reached a finger forward to trace the scar on his collarbone “Me too. Sorry.”

He shrugged “It’s okay.

It was silent for a few moments as she stared at him before she leaned her head down to peer at him “And you are sorry as well?”

He leaned back “Me? Sorry for what? You broke up with me, I returned your things, and now here we are.”

Tabitha sat up, eyebrows knitting together over her eyes and let out a breath “I broke up with you because of something you did. So yes you should be sorry.”

He frowned “What did I do? Whatever you heard from whoever you heard it from is a complete lie, like it usually is. Stop listening to other people.” He said annunciating each word with a small smack from one hand to another “I don’t understand why you can’t just ask me about something you hear instead of freaking out about stuff. I mean Jesus Christ Tabitha why are you trusting other people instead of me.”

“Because-“

“No I’ll tell you why.” He said cutting her off and sitting up “Because you let whatever insecurity this is eat you alive until you can’t take it anymore and you blow up on me for nothing.”

“So it’s all my fault?” She said pointing at herself.

“I didn’t say that. It’s me too, but this time I didn’t do anything. Let me ask you this. Do you really think that if I didn’t love you or didn’t want to be here that I would be? I could go out and pick some girl up right now and yet here I am. Fighting with you. Again.” He said throwing his hands up and shaking his head.

“Well since your so confident in your abilities then there’s the door.” She reached down and picked up his pants, shirt and boxers and heaved them at him, narrowly missing his head and yanked the blanket off him to wrap it around herself “Thanks for coming have a nice night. Out.” She pointed at the doorway.

“Whatever. Fuck this.” He pulled his clothing on and then shoes, slamming the door as he left. He got into his truck and gripped the wheel, resisting the urge to punch it and breathed several breaths through his nose.

This relationship was going to be the death of him.

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owliellder · 1 year ago

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

our spot, 2 * ls2

it’s about two weeks since you last saw logan and you find him sitting all alone in the dark

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: logan is the warning idk

notes: i know it took me forever to write this subpar ass second part but like- i kinda like it because i'm bad with resolutions and making up (i'm single)

also i'd like to have a word with whoever made this gif because it's like so disrespectful like he is so fine why would u do this?

(f1 masterlist)

(prev)

“you’re growing up too fast,” your mother had said to you earlier after you finished packing the last of your boxes. the boxes that would be sent off to new york in a couple of days before you head out right before new year’s.

thankfully, your family agreed on flying over with you to spend the holiday with you. you had spent weeks and months rethinking the choice of your relocation; if you could handle being away from your family.

your father insisted you explore the world without them by your side and you took up the offer. you'd broken up with the guy you were seeing a couple of days ago.

while you had your doubts about where your relationship was going, there was no denying the amount of time you'd spent together. it still stung you quite a little bit to up and leave him. he had asked you if there was any way to make it work, but you couldn't get yourself to say anything.

so, he pulled you in for a hug and wished you well. and then you left, tearing up very slightly on the drive home alone.

it would be nice to start fresh in a new place. your last conversation convincing you to pick up the pieces of yourself and start moving on for real.

though, it seems it would take forever to do that. you hadn’t only lost a romantic connection when you lost logan, but also your best friend.

the first person you called when you crashed your car on the highway when you were 17, the person who stood up to the girl who made fun of you when you were 9, and the only one who knew you better than you knew yourself.

so here you are at 3 in the morning walking the quiet streets of your small town with your hands in the pockets of your sweater. you try to stifle the sniffle that escapes you, having spent the past couple of hours in tears at the thought of leaving behind everything you’ve ever known.

packing up and spending months in new york, then indefinitely in germany made you a nervous wreck. though the company you’re working for has arranged everything for you from the airport pickup to the apartment estate you’ll be spending your days in.

when you left your house, you glanced across the street to disappointment. logan’s truck isn’t parked on the street and his room had its blinds drawn — the way it’s been since you last saw him.

when you first got the promotion, you almost picked up your phone to text logan. but the heavy weight of guilt made you hit erase and put your phone down after a second.

even when you had graduated about 6 months after cutting contact, you wanted so bad to send him a photo of you and your degree together. but, there was something so embarrassing about reaching out and starting a conversation like nothing had happened.

you posted it on your instagram stories, reposting every single tagged picture for days after to hopefully prompt a message of congratulations from logan. but he didn’t bite.

it made you wonder if you’ve truly made a mistake suddenly cutting him off.

you sigh, making a sharp turn after you pass the school. there’s a dark figure up ahead on the playground that makes you question if it’s a mistake that you’ve come here so late at night.

but it’s a relatively safe gated community. you press your lips together as you approach, your breath hitching in your throat when you’re finally able to make out the man sitting at the end of the slide.

“fancy seeing you here,” logan mumbles, throwing the pieces of rubber from the playground floor into the ground. “it’s late.”

“yeah, i just finished packing,” you answer under your breath, passing him to sit at the edge of another slide. “just needed to do some thinking. didn’t expect you’d be here.”

logan grins to himself with a soft chuckle. “yeah, i’m sorry for intruding.”

you hadn’t been here since you last asked him to come here and see you. in fact, prior to that meetup, you’d only been here a total of 5 times since you last talked.

it reminded you too much of the memories you shared with him growing up.

you lie back in the comfort of the slide. “don’t worry about it. i don’t come here often,” you smile to yourself as you confess. "not anymore."

"i can tell," logan mutters. "i've been here every night since you texted me."

"oh." you take a deep breath, not knowing if you'd like the answer to your question. "what for?"

"thinking real hard," he says just barely above a whisper. he turns to you with a small smile. "i was thinking about you. and germany... and how close it is to me."

your breath hitches. you won't admit to him, but you accepted the offer to move to germany to at least be remotely close to him. or to at least convince him to give your relationship a shot.

you've been apart for years. the only way you got to spend time together back then was if you'd make the effort to visit him in the uk, or if he had the time to fly back home. it was difficult to keep finding ways to make the relationship last.

you had to pretend for a while that you never had to end it. but you knew in your heart two years ago that it cannot keep going on like this. you cried and cried every single time at the airport when he would have to leave you behind in this small town.

you knew his mother mentioned to him about the guy you were seeing. because your mother came to you asking questions about the mysterious guy you never even told her about.

every night after that, you thought about calling logan to explain yourself; that it's not what he thinks it is. but were you really in the position where you had to explain yourself?

"i do love you," he says, picking at the rubber grit once more to avoid your stare. "but the long-distance... barely seeing each other for months on end... it was hard. i couldn't give you what a normal guy would. i couldn't keep making you wait around for nothing."

"but that's not up to you to decide," you say slowly, hoping that he would understand where you came from. "it's unfair. i was willing to go through all of that with you. we've been through so much together."

"i didn't want to risk losing you over something like that," logan sighs, looking up at you in despair. there's a sadness in his eyes that you've never seen before. "it was lonely without you. you're my best friend - losing you over something different entirely was devastating. i didn't have anybody else."

you shake your head, unsure of what to say to him. it was lonely for you when you cut him off. you went from communicating everyday to only catching glimpses of his life on tv, instagram and media news sites.

every single achievement you had, you thought about calling him and hearing his proud voice. but you couldn't fully back yourself on the fact that you broke your own heart because he wanted to keep you around.

"i thought of you every single day," logan says. "i'm sorry. i know you've got a boyfriend and i'm sure he's great, but-"

"i told you," you laugh dryly, throwing your head back. "if you just tell me right now... i'll be all yours."

"but i can't do that to somebody else," logan frowns with a shake of his head. he's contemplated a lot over the past couple of days. how appealing your proposal sounds to him, but the fact that you're still seeing somebody has been making him hesitate. "you know what that means."

you press your lips together. logan's always made sure that he was as morally right as much as he could with his decisions. you sigh, a small hesitant smile stretching your lips. "we broke up."

"what?"

"i broke up with him a couple days ago," you whisper, dropping your eyes to avoid his questioning stare. "i just wanted to go to germany with a fresh start."

logan doesn't say anything immediately. and you don't follow up your confession with anything either. so you look up into the sky as you sway your feet left and right as you try to count the stars that illuminate the night sky. your heart pounds in your chest as you anticipate what he will say next.

and you know he's still there, thinking hard because you can still see his shadow against the playground flooring.

"stay the night," he says softly.

you sit up, both of your hands gripping the sides of the slide as you turn to look at him. "what did you just say?"

"come home with me and then let's talk about it," logan smiles, though he still looks just as tired as before. "let's figure it out, you and me; germany. let me make this right."

"you idiot," you laugh, tears falling out of your eyes again as you have another outburst. "logan."

"wait, why are you crying?" his voice is soft and laced with shock, hands held out towards your body. "i thought this was what you wanted? did i cross a line? i'm sorry."

"no, i just," you cry, wiping the tears from your face. "god, i just missed you so much. i'm sorry. it's not you."

he's now gotten up from his seat. he's knelt down next to the slide you're sitting in, trying to reach out and touch your arm. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry it took me this long." his thumbs swipe over your cheeks, wiping away your tears. "please don't cry anymore."

@thatgirlmj @lfm98 @gentlyweeps-world @ladywhistledownx @charli123456789 @lightdragonrayne @k-pevensie28 @angsthology

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x fem!reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x y/n #logan sargeant x y/n #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant fanfiction #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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haptronym · 2 months ago

Text

Hap's Adventures in Dadmight

aka “this experience was really strange so I’m going to write 6,000 words about it”.

Fandoms are bizarre. I know this, but I still keep doing the shocked Pikachu face whenever I join a new one.

This time around, I really thought there would be no surprises. And yet, the fandom ended up having a really weird, really uncomfortable dynamic that confused the hell out of me for a long time. I met several others who said “Yeah, it freaks me out too,” but they couldn’t explain exactly why, and nobody really wanted to talk about it. So now that I’m mostly done with the My Hero Academia fandom, I’ll just go ahead and vaporize my bridges with a whole-ass case study about what on earth seemed to be going on here.

Warning: very long, very self-absorbed, as usual. Contains discussions of relationships, underage shippers, and how to influence whether something “feels” platonic vs. not.

Disclaimer 1: This doesn't apply to everything tagged "Dadmight." Just a select subset. But this subset appeared pretty consistently.

Disclaimer 2: I'm posting brief, fair-use-commentary examples of the content that made me question my sanity because it has to be seen to be believed, but I'm not including names or links because I don’t want to easily funnel negativity to them. If an author really wants me to, I’m happy to link directly to their story.

Disclaimer 3: I’m not trying to “spread awareness” or do a callout. I just like to write for fun and this time the fun was puzzling out why I, personally, had the experience I did. Many people feel differently and that's great. If all fluff has always felt 100% wonderful and charming to you, then this post isn't relevant to you. But if a supposedly "cute" story has ever made you squirm with discomfort, this might help explain why.

A few years ago, I took a terribly wrong turn in life and ended up in the My Hero Academia fandom. My kidnappers were these two:

In short: the little kid on the left, Izuku Midoriya, is exactly as dorky as he looks. He was born powerless in a world of comic-book superheroes and has a tendency to burst into tears under any possible circumstance. The series kicks off when the guy on the right, #1 hero and national celebrity All Might, sees potential in him despite all this. In a fit of inspiration, All Might decides to give Izuku the same chance he was given as a young boy. Despite being a notorious lone wolf, he (secretly) names Izuku as his successor and takes it upon himself to covertly train this weepy, noodle-limbed wimp into a hero, the hero, the next Symbol of Peace who will wield the world’s strongest superpower and safeguard the future of society. Surely they’ll pull it off just fine, right?

(Don’t ask how All Might switches from a bodybuilder to the skeleton pictured above. The show doesn’t know either.)

I loved these two. I wanted eight seasons of beach training montage. The mentor/student shenanigans were hilarious and the found family potential was off the charts. They’re two awkward bumbling fools with several truckfuls of emotional baggage, brought together by purehearted heroic zeal. Wonderful.

However, I quickly discovered that the show shoveled approximately ten thousand new characters into every new episode and definitely wasn't going to slow down long enough to give me the All Might & Izuku content I craved. So I wandered off to see what kind of fanfiction was on tap.

...I wandered off, while bracing myself. I’ve been a weeb long enough to know that any characters who pass on power through “DNA” are never going to escape a fandom unscathed, regardless of pesky things like “Age Of Consent” and “Have You Watched A Single Minute Of This Show, He Would Never Fucking Do That”.

Their canon relationship is impressively alarming all on its own:

Izuku is 14-15. Underage character? Check.

All Might is 55+. Enormous age gap? Check.

All Might is both Izuku’s secret mentor and his high school teacher. Teacher-student dynamics? Check.

Izuku is a nobody. All Might is a global celebrity. Staggering power imbalance? Check.

Izuku’s superpower, which lets him go to the school of his dreams, accomplish his lifelong goals, and be the protagonist of this show, was given to him by All Might at great personal cost. Enormous sense of debt and obligation because of a huge sacrifice? Check.

Izuku is an outright fanboy. His room is full of posters and figurines of All Might in spandex. Other characters frequently comment on how obsessed he is. There is a whole plotline about him being so starstruck by All Might that he can’t think for himself. Literal hero worship? Check.

As the cherry on top, they spend most of the story pretending they don’t know each other and sneak around under the noses of every other character, including Izuku's mother. Secret hidden relationship with a minor that no other adult can learn the true extent of? Check.

What a pair. Japanese fandom constantly cracks jokes about how Izuku is probably that kind of fanboy. Even official media is well aware of how sketchy it all looks:

With all this in play, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the stuff in their platonic-relationship fanfiction tag vastly outnumbered the stuff in their shipping one. Phew. Finally, a pair of characters who got something besides endless gross hornyposting.

As I browsed, I kept seeing a certain tag: "Dadmight." This, unsurprisingly, was used by stories that decided to make All Might into Izuku’s biological father. But it was also used by... pretty much all non-shipping media that focused on their relationship. How interesting! I was used to ship pairings having nicknames, but not platonic ones.

I could imagine why the name caught on. All Might was practically the definition of "goofy wholesome dad energy,” and his mentor/student relationship with Izuku was easy to see in a parental light. Plus, Izuku’s actual dad is never to be seen during the story. Clearly he deserves a replacement.

So I delved in. Man, this was going to be great! A huge amount of good clean platonic content, with an easy-to-find tag too. Reading about cute dadly shenanigans was going to be such a fun-

How he would love to fall asleep to the sound of his soft voice and the touch of his rough hands, telling him he was proud of him, caressing his hair. He was so mortified over having this need, for all kinds of reasons, but it became clear a long time ago that fighting it wouldn’t work, so he let himself dream.

Uh... well... Izuku didn’t grow up with a dad, so... maybe he needed a father figure... to... caress his hair with his rough hands...

More hums of contentment make their way from him, his body swaying with every push and pull from Toshinori’s long fingers. He uses them to massage Midoriya’s head, taking every moment to not just clean his hair, but to make him feel good; Toshinori can’t bear for this to be purely utilitarian.

Uhhh... okay... All Might was a rather isolated guy. I bet he appreciated being able to share time with his student... bathing time...

What if the boy would rather this stay simply as it has been, professional as mentor and mentee? What if Toshinori has read all of this wrong and the boy has no feelings above Toshinori being his teacher, and all Toshinori has done is fall harder and harder for him every day?

What was this? What exactly did people think kids got up to with their dads!?

Well, maybe I just found a few of the strange ones, I told myself. Fanfiction always has its odd outliers. But after more searching, I realized: no. There was wildly uncomfortable stuff all over. It wasn’t all Dadmight stories. But it was a lot. The most popular authors of the “Dadmight” tag wrote it and the rest of the Dadmight authors gave them big thumbs-ups. It was at least as popular as the “All Might is Izuku’s real dad” stuff and sat at the top of the kudos and comments sorting.

Were people just being polite? Or was I overreacting? I know how annoying it is when people deliberately take things in bad faith and demonize perfectly innocent human affectio—

He kept the contact to a minimum, not wanting to take advantage, not wanting to cross a single, unspoken boundary… but how could he possibly completely refrain, with both how proud and how worried Izuku made him?

There was a voice, in the back of his head, that didn’t agree. That voice – either logic or wishful thinking – told him that while Izuku didn’t initiate physical affection, he surely did lean into it, and seemed to crave receiving it as much as Toshinori craved giving it.

Oh god oh god oh god what is happening STOP—

This was horrible. I just wanted to enjoy cute fluff. I’d never had this reaction to platonic fanfic before. I’m a big found family fan and my worst issue with fluff is usually just that it tends to be kind of samey. I normally love reading about chaste affection and closeness between characters who care about each other. So why did these stories read like Lolita AUs to me? Did shippers in this fandom like to hide their softcore stuff in the platonic tags?

I was soon able to find out. I had been writing my own All Might & Izuku story, and got invited to a “Dadmight-centric” Discord server. Almost all the popular Dadmight authors were there, including the ones who wrote the particular stories that made my skin crawl. There were several channels where people brainstormed, critiqued, and discussed the motivations behind their writing.

Cool! I’d be able to meet new people, make some friends, and get a better understanding of what the Dadmight dynamic really was. So I introduced myself, I chatted, I lurked. Everyone was really nice.

I found zero cheeky shippers. The writers claimed to be horrified by the idea of shipping the two of them. They would never disrespect the purity and innocence of this beautiful platonic relationship, they said, as they churned out stories about Izuku “coming undone” under the caress of All Might’s rough hands. Right...

I could’ve understood if this was coming from naive 14-year-olds. But some of these people were in their 30’s, with kids of their own. If anyone understood family dynamics, it should’ve been them.

But after I spent more time around the server, I began to notice something else... something which explained a ton of the strangeness.

Baby Fever

To understand what was happening, you first have to understand that Izuku’s baby face inflicts instant brain damage on sight. I mean, look at him:

aaa his cute widdle cheeks oh my god—

This kid sets off maternal instincts like landmines, and in the Dadmight server, I found that the Izuku infantilization train had gone completely off the rails. Writers constantly cooed over the adorable antics of 2, 3, 5-year olds and constantly talked about how much they wanted to make Izuku act them out. And surely, if All Might could indulge in the parental joy of caring for an innocent young babe, then his emotional scars would be healed and he could find fulfillment outside of that pesky “saving the world” business.

Now, the bio-dadmight folks had it easy: they just wrote about Izuku in his toddler years playing with daddy All Might. The cuddling and tickles made sense and were very cute. But other writers faced a challenge: they wanted to keep him 14-15 so that canon events could occur... but they didn’t want to be left out of the fun.

So... they decided to rationalize and egg each other on. I mean, how much does age really matter? Being a child at heart is always cute and wholesome, right?

Suddenly, a whole lot of very uncomfortable things began to make sense:

So Much Physical Contact

He loved the physical touch. It was embarrassing and he would never admit it out loud, but there wasn’t much in this world he loved more than receiving physical affection from his idol. Every single time it happened he would save the memory to replay it over and over again whenever he felt sad, or almost every night before he went to bed. He was glad no one in the dorms had a mind-reading quirk. And All Might always gave it more freely when he visited his apartment, so of course he went there.

Izuku is often written to have a near-pathological craving for hair stroking and cuddles. Which is cute when directed at, say, classmates or mom, but gets real weird real fast when directed at the adult man he canonically idolizes to a freakish degree. Ever work with teenage boys? Most of them would rather die than be physically affectionate with adults, even parents... unless, you know, they’re that kind of fanboy.

Even freakier is that the grown adult would then reply, “Hell yeah! I see nothing wrong with getting physical with this kid who worships me! I crave it so much! I can't resist!” Ever work at a school? They have rulebooks and seminars specifically about how teachers should never touch or be alone with kids.

Then again, Midnight exists at this school. Maybe U.A.’s infamous lack of safety standards extends to this too.

Either way, though: cute and wholesome for a parent to do with their three-year-old. Very creepy when a high-school teacher makes excuses about why he really needs to cuddle and stroke his fifteen-year-old student in secret.

Narcolepsy Xtreme Edition

His student was never this affectionate or vulnerable when he was conscious, so he enjoyed the moment, even if it was a short one, as he moved to his room upstairs.

If you’ve read fanfiction for more than seven seconds, you’ve probably seen the “cram the character with booze/painkillers until they blurt out Vulnerable Things” plot device. It’s a beloved classic. But Izuku writers are robbed of the alcohol angle since he’s underage, and morphine is pretty niche. So authors who want to use this trick often just make Izuku tired after a long day, conclude that being sleepy is close enough to being five drinks in, and have him murmur “thanks, DAD... OOPS DID I SAY THAT OUT LOUD???” to awkwardly segue into Familial Confessions.

But quite a few stories took the “sleepy” angle to a new, very odd place. Instead of groggily dispensing convenient confessions, Izuku would just... keel over while doing homework and be utterly dead to the world. And instead of having All Might briefly rouse him to shoo him to bed, or worry about his student suddenly becoming catatonic, the writers would make him eerily fixated on the opportunity to physically carry Izuku to his bedroom (which would somehow not wake him up!!!) and tuck him in while waxing poetic about how vulnerable and helpless he looked.

Before joining the Dadmight server, I was mildly alarmed whenever I saw this, wondering why so many authors were obsessed with roofying the teenager and making the adult fondle him. But after joining, I realized: they were just trying to act out the cutesy aww-the-two-year-old-fell-sound-asleep-while-playing, it’s-so-cute scenes that all those darned lucky bio-dadmight people got to indulge in so easily.

Bed Sharing

It wasn’t long before Izuku’s breathing slowed, and soon he was asleep, snoring peacefully. Toshinori, after a few minutes of debating with himself, said screw it and got into the bed with the boy.

Cue me SCREAMING internally in confusion and fear. But no, it was just that the cutesy-kid-trope obsession stretched all the way to “Well, I used to snuggle with my parents at night after I had a nightmare! It was super wholesome!” Which led to scores of stories featuring a celebrity crawling into bed with his student.

All in all, joining this server was a huge relief. I was so glad to see that these hair-raising scenarios were just the result of the authors forgetting to mention “Oh, by the way, the characters are acting weird because we made them all agree to participate in preschooler roleplay.”

Just picture this while reading and it all makes sense.

Fanfic is uniquely susceptible to this sort of “forgot to mention this strange dynamic that I take for granted” issue. After all, 99% of fanfic doesn’t bother to waste time asking “would this make any sense to someone who had never watched the show?” It’s not worth it to focus on such a broad audience. As a result, fanfic normalizes skipping huge swaths of context that would normally be mandatory in a story. Fanfic authors don’t have to practice asking themselves “did I explain this properly?” anywhere near as often as original fiction ones.

This would be bad enough on its own, but then, we go cloister ourselves away into little sub-fandom echo chambers, and spend months crafting obscure in-joke fractals, and get so absorbed in our tiny myopic corners of the community that we also fail to ask, “would this make any sense to someone who hasn’t spent the last 5 months marinating in this specific Discord channel?”

Sometimes we know exactly how niche our stuff is and just don’t care. But too often, we just legitimately suck at guessing how our work might come off to other groups. We don’t have to practice theory of mind as much as original fiction authors do. Our fandom buddies see nothing amiss with our writing (since they know all the server insider lore!) and everyone outside our tiny clique politely ignores our word salad... so we never get proper feedback on how incomprehensible our work can be even to other members of the same fandom.

In this case, this resulted in a whole pack of writers seemingly getting lost in the fluff sauce and completely forgetting to address the fact that the stuff men do with their own five-year-olds generally becomes really weird and creepy when done with someone else’s 15-year-old, whether or not the 15-year-old seems to want it. Izuku was a cute widdle innocent baby in their heads, so they assumed he was a cute widdle innocent baby in everyone else's.

Once I realized where they were coming from, it wasn't so hard to adjust my mental framework and enjoy these stories on their own terms. That said... infantilization still couldn't explain stuff like “What if Toshinori has read all of this wrong and the boy has no feelings above Toshinori being his teacher, and all Toshinori has done is fall harder and harder for him every day?”

To explain why that paragraph makes me want to crawl out of my skin, we first need to answer: what makes a piece of writing feel “questionable?”

“Vibes,” A Primer

Love comes in many forms. The big four are platonic, familial, romantic, and sexual. Sexual is easy: you’re horny for the person. Platonic love is specifically non-sexual, and familial love is a subset of platonic love. Romance usually implies horny, though there’s definitely a difference between outright sexual behavior and the behavior we file under the “romance” label.

There’s also a difference between romantic and platonic behavior. And this is where a lot of “questionable” vibes appear: when you’d expect an interaction between two people to be platonic, but for some reason, it has uncomfortable romantic/sexual overtones instead.

But what causes those overtones? A dad can give his kid a kiss on the head, and it comes off platonic. A suitor can give their crush a kiss on the head, and it comes off romantic. In fact, most romantic gestures have nearly identical platonic counterparts. Kissing, hugging, hand-holding, cuddling, vulnerable confessions. So what gives? What makes something “come off” one way or the other?

The actual answer is: a ton of stuff, most of it subjective. Everyone draws their lines in different places, based on culture and personal experience and how gutterbrained you’re feeling on any given day. A lot of it has to do with context (that thing that us fanfic authors are notoriously bad at judging).

Online wars are fought every day about whether some glance or gesture or phrase means they're "totally into each other fr"

But if you want to draw broad strokes, one way to roughly separate platonic vs romantic love is by gauging the level of passion involved. “Passion” is “a strong and barely controllable emotion that compels action.” That last part is key.

Stereotypical romantic love is incredibly passionate. It’s all about desire to act, desire to change, desire to progress the relationship to something more. It features overwhelming anxious preoccupation about the other person’s thoughts and opinions, feeling irresistibly drawn to them, feeling intense longing. It’s about confessing and hoping the other person also feels the same. It often involves attempting to label the relationship, make it “official”, and show it off. It’s about trying desperately to secure assurance that this love will last forever and ever. You have to do something, and every moment spent not doing something is torture.

Contrast this to typical depictions of platonic and familial love. Familial love is calm, encompassing, soothing. It’s secure. You don’t have to worry, because no matter what rough patches you go through, they’ll always be your family and will always have unconditional love for you. Yes, you’ll fly into action if your loved one is threatened, but at rest, platonic love is generally not “exciting” and there’s generally little sense of urgency.

Romance is usually an insecure, anxious thing that’s trying to get to that secure, grounded familial stage. That’s why people say they progress from being “in love” to just “loving” one another. Romance draws people together and kickstarts the bonding process. And as the steady, mature bond of a long-term relationship forms, the obsessive mania of romantic infatuation fades away.

So the difference between platonic and romantic behavior is not so much about the actual actions. It’s more about the mentality. Is the person anxiously trying to secure their partner’s affection while treating the relationship as a really big deal that will make or break their lives? Then their affectionate actions may come off more romantic. Are they seemingly at home in their partner’s presence and not trying to deepen or change the relationship? Then their affection will probably come off more familial or platonic.

There are, of course, a ton of things that go into it besides this, and caveats out the ass. For example, people trying to establish a new friendship are often anxious too. But when it comes to determining the “vibes” of a kiss or a cuddle, this can be a useful litmus test. Failing this test is often what makes something feel Questionable. The characters seem too invested... maybe because it's not truly innocent.

Now, let’s take a look at our Dadmight characters.

The biggest challenge of writing familial closeness between Izuku and All Might is simple: they are not family. They have no long shared history to justify any sort of intimacy. Instead they have a teacher/student relationship that places them both into rigid, frigid roles.

Usually, familial-style bonding just takes time. You wait a few seasons, the characters slowly get closer and learn to trust one another, and eventually they’re hugging. But these two clowns spent the whole show being the ultimate found-family blue-balls experience. They were just never very emotionally open or touchy-feely. Every time they had the chance for Vulnerable Conversation And Cuddles, they passed it up in favor of a pep talk and a fist bump. It took a near-death experience to extract one (1) brief hug and some tears. But in normal everyday life? Arm’s length.

Literally. For example: after five seasons of bonding and character development, they are separated and Izuku is embroiled in a deadly conflict that almost destroys the world. When they finally reunite after the harrowing ordeal, alone under the starlight, they greet each other with a loving, heartfelt… handshake. This, predictably, spawned furious fix-it fic.

Overall, there is a huge gulf that authors need to cross in order to get these two from “polite handshake” to “tender cuddling and kisses.” They could write 50,000 words of setup to slowly accomplish this, but most authors did not want to wear their fingertips to the bone just to inch these two into an embrace. They wanted to jump the gap within a oneshot, leaping from canon frigidity into an unbreakable lifelong familial love that was also super touchy-feely and extremely vocal.

Now, remember what I was just saying? How romance is generally about trying to establish new family bonds? How it’s all about trying to change the relationship into something more?

Knowing all this, what do you think might happen if an author tried to speedrun two characters to the Family Finish Line as fast as they could? What do you think their shortcuts might end up looking like, completely by accident? Especially if their “sane and appropriate human interactions” gauge was warped by an echo chamber of fluff tropes and baby fever?

You might get:

Was it even possible that his feelings could be reciprocated? Toshinori didn’t want to think about it. It would just pain him more. Young Midoriya only saw him as an idol, a mentor who would help him train his body for One for All. Midoriya did not see him in the way he wanted him to.

Or:

He wanted desperately, desperately to have the courage to cross that threshold, to ask him what he longed for, to ask him for that relationship that he dared not voice.

Or even:

Toshinori feels his heart rate pick up and his gnarled stomach twist with nerves. Is he really going to do this? Is he going to tell this boy what he truly thinks and risk everything they’ve built up together over the past year-plus? His palms are sweating and he wipes them on his suit pants, rubbing the pads of his fingers together.

I'll stop now. The point is that these quotes could all have been word-for-word ripped from a romance novel. These are some industrial-grade Questionable Vibes. And reading them in context really doesn't help that much, for me at least. It's almost comical when they throw in "...I crave the touch of your rough hands as a son! A SON!"

If you know the building blocks of romance, it makes perfect sense why stories like this could come off this way. Platonic love is great, but it’s also stable, calm, and slow. It simply doesn’t have the sheer explosive force needed to catapult two stilted dorks into a brand-new dynamic within 2,000 words. Most stories can only achieve that kind of mileage via near-death experiences... or by inflicting the characters with neurotic infatuation.

Not only that, but their canon relationship is uniquely poised to set off romance-adjacent warning bells. Because they are not actually family, it makes sense for them to yearn for a deeper relationship in a way that a normal family wouldn’t. It makes sense for them to be anxious and insecure about their relationship, because it’s a very strange, hard-to-define thing that has to be kept secret from those around them. And it makes sense for them to consider their relationship a huge deal, because in canon, it’s fundamental to the most important aspects of both their lives.

I actually think it’s kind of inevitable that their character dynamic will sometimes stray into places that feel romantic. But that doesn’t mean the writer is a secret shipper... because I don’t think that passion always has to imply sexual desire, especially in fiction.

I’ve spent some time around the asexuality community, and my biggest takeaway was that sexual desire is very different from the desire to make deep, lifelong connections. Most asexual people still yearned to find that special someone, their anchor, a partner who unconditionally loved them and would stay by their side forever. Family. They would fall for people... they just didn’t want to fall into their pants. But it was almost impossible to keep these partners unless they were asexual too. Every one eventually pushed to “take things further,” or they left to find another person who would.

So I can understand the yearning for a world where sex is kicked to the curb, where two strangers can find each other and share intense, whirlwind, “you’re my #1” love... without any lewd overtones. This little pocket of stories seemed like a manifestation of that yearning.

Nowadays, more and more stories are taking previously romance-exclusive intimacy and yanking off the sexual baggage. For example, looking on the Dadmight tag will reveal “platonic soulmates” and “platonic hanahaki” stories. Yes, platonic hanahaki. No, not parody. There’s a clear unironic market for this content. People really want to be able to indulge in passionate, “till death do us part” emotional bonding in a safe, nonsexual way.

All Might and Izuku sit in a unique place. Not related, but powerfully linked by something thicker than blood. And their relationship is easy to paint as “safe”. It makes perfect sense that these two would attract creators who want to explore this hard-to-define chaste side of passionate love.

In real life, passionate obsessive-style attraction between adults and kids is a huge red flag. We can never really know whether those feelings are innocent or healthy. 99% of the time, they’re not. But in fiction, the author gets to choose what people really feel and whether things turn out well. They can explore the most unbelievable scenario of all: not a world where everyone is a mermaid, but a world where it’s actually wholesome and healing for a high school teacher and his student to confess their deep, undying love for one another, where a famous celebrity can secretly invite his obsessed underage fan over, stroke his hair, tell him how special their relationship is, and sleep with him in bed, without it ending up on Law and Order: SVU.

On Critique

“Hap,” you might be thinking, “surely these stories can’t be as bad as you say. If they were, someone would have pointed it out to these poor souls. You should have pointed it out to these poor souls. You were in their writing server for chrissakes, and now you’re gossiping about them like a heartless goblin.”

First: yes, I'm a goblin. Second: I did bring this topic up to several Dadmight authors one-on-one. After getting a bunch of head-in-sand excuses in response, I decided to just quietly munch popcorn and watch the fandom’s antics unfold like a slow-motion train wreck.

Third: people did try to point this stuff out.

It was fascinating to watch the Dadmight server whenever someone posted a comment expressing concern. Some comments were trolls trying to get a reaction, of course. But others were very gentle: “hey, isn't it kind of weird to have them hop into bed together? It comes off kind of shippy...” I learned that the reason I had never seen comments like these in the past was because they were usually quickly deleted by the fic authors.

After deleting a comment, the author would often flee to the server for reassurance. The other users would agree that the commenter was definitely in the wrong, since they could see absolutely nothing questionable about the writer’s story. Someone would inevitably chime in saying that, oh, one time they got a comment calling things questionable like that, and it turned out to be from a shipper who shipped bad things. So, you know, anyone who sees shipping in things is probably just a bad person.

Phew. Crisis averted. If you can successfully paint the critic as a bad person, then there’s no need to descend into existentialist dread as you’re forced to critically reexamine the foundational concepts of your writing and your grasp on relationship dynamics.

(Credit where credit is due: one of the rules of this particular server was not to bash or insult people who like things you don't like. In most groups this is followed with an unspoken "...unless you can clutch your pearls over it", but to my surprise, when stuff like the above started kicking off, the moderators did step in to remind people to keep it civil. So, good job, mods. More maturity than I usually see in online spaces.)

But still, if anyone actually bothers to read this long screed, I already know what certain responses are going to look like. They’ll smugly assert that people who see questionable things are just sex-obsessed weirdos, projecting their icky lewd thoughts onto every innocent interaction they come across. A morally pure person wouldn’t make such gross assumptions.

I’m familiar with this kind of response because I’ve spent a lot of time around another group that responds the exact same way to these kinds of concerns. That group is known as fundamentalist Christians, and their attitude fosters three things:

People are afraid to speak out when they feel uncomfortable, because they don't want to be accused of being dirty-minded.

People fail to learn the ground rules of normal romance/sexuality and so fail to recognize red flags.

The community is absolutely infested with creeps who take advantage of points 1 and 2 to run rampant.

Sadly, these three things also seem to be true in the Dadmight community. Being a platonic pairing, it naturally attracts people uninterested in and inexperienced with romantic/sexual relationships. And then the vitriolic, derisive responses to people’s concerns teaches them that it’s wrong to bring up those topics around the community at all.

And so, point 3 blooms. I eventually confirmed that my initial suspicions were correct: shippers did camp in the Dadmight tag, and they got away with posting some impressively brazen softcore underage content in public, presumably because even the people who were suspicious knew that going “hey now” would trigger a circular firing squad.

The Dadmight community wasn’t clueless about this problem. They were incredibly paranoid as a whole. They knew there were bad actors lurking in their tag, but since they had disabled all their own safety alarms and expanded the definition of “platonic” to a ridiculous extreme, they had no way of being able to determine what was shipping and what was not until characters started actively whipping their dicks out. I saw constant fretting over whether it was okay to click the “like” button on an affectionate-looking piece of fanart without knowing for sure the intentions of the creator. But asking intentions was pointless anyway, since shippers just lied to them and then laughed as the platonic group eagerly ate up their evil, dirty-minded content.

I get why these “wait, that feels shippy...” comments feel like attacks. It’s fucking awful when your intentions are pure but someone interprets them in such a horrifying, disgusting way. It feels disrespectful when you clearly label something “platonic” but people still doubt.

But remember: Going from “mentor” to “dad” with these two generally means breaking down normal boundaries, to escalate the emotional and physical intimacy between an authority figure and a starstruck, needy, vulnerable kid, because they have such a special and unique bond that no one else understands. So special, in fact, that it needs to be kept secret from the public.

In real life, this scenario is known as Groomer Tactics 101.

Seriously, stop and read that link. It’s short and non-explicit. This is why I called their canon relationship “impressively alarming”—the bullet points of stages 1-3 describe Izuku and All Might nearly word-for-word. This does not mean I’m claiming All Might is a groomer, or that Izuku and All Might’s relationship is bad. Just that, due to their circumstances, they happen to have all the building blocks of relationships that go horribly wrong. All that separates their scenario from tumbling into Bad is the goals of the adult. So when a fanfic then comes along and makes the adult suddenly really interested in excessive touching? And the only reason he gives is “I’m weirdly drawn to this kid and touching them feels really good”? Of course people will get nervous!

Noticing this does not mean someone is “obsessed with shipping”. It means they’re a normal human being with eyes. Accusing someone of being problematic for making the most obvious possible observations about adult/child interactions is like accusing someone of being an arsonist because they embarrassed you by pointing out that your homemade backyard fireworks setup is halfassed and dangerous.

This does not mean it’s wrong to write wish-fulfillment where escalating to bed cuddles actually turns out great and awesome. But it does mean that, if an author writes it ignorantly or carelessly, they risk coming off like they’re glorifying and normalizing Groomer Tactics 101. It’s the same as when careless Twilight fans glorify and normalize stuff that, in real life, is abusive controlling boyfriend behavior.

Yes, it sucks when people come and yuck the yum. I’m sure the Twilight fans also get sick of people who complain and demonize them instead of letting them write their vampire boyfriend fantasies in peace. But the concern usually comes from a well-meaning place.

Proudly announcing “I ignore the most basic child/adult red flags because they ruin my fun” is not the flex that some people think it is. I highly recommend people reconsider before they try to paint anti-child-groomers as the bad guys.

The Recipe

So, let’s summarize how to reproduce the Dadmight phenomenon. It starts with a canon relationship that has the most enticing found-family building blocks the world has ever seen: a downtrodden kid who really needs a dad + a lonely heroic mentor. However, their canon relationship also sits on top of a powder keg, coincidentally featuring all the “setup” stages of the sexual grooming model:

a lonely, low-self-esteem kid

singled out by an esteemed, charismatic adult who is a pillar of the community

sharing a “special” relationship

constantly going off alone and keeping secrets

A platonic fan community forms that is blissfully unaware of the above dynamics. They head off to fluff echo chambers, as platonic fans do. But due to the crybaby tendencies of the teenage character, they start projecting really aged-down toddler-play scenarios onto him. Eventually, as echo-chambered fans do, they decide that contextualization is for chumps. This results in fics that take the powder keg and add:

The adult craving to touch and hold the teenager

The teenager craving touch from the adult and mewling like a kitten when his hair is stroked (I’m not fucking joking)

Completely age-inappropriate stuff like stroking, kisses, and sharing a bed with a teenage student

Izuku and All Might also happen to suffer from loneliness and isolation, even more so in their fanon incarnations. This really resonates with most fans, who want to soothe and heal them. They also want to get to the healing cuddles within a few chapters instead of wasting time on super-slow buildup. So they make the two of them really strongly fixate on and angst about the agony of their loneliness, and how the other person’s love is the only cure that will fix them. In doing so, they insert:

Anxious passionate obsession

Love confessions

Coming-out scenes

Craving for exclusive relationship labels

Desire for exclusivity

Lastly, because platonic groups are either uninterested in or too young for spicy content, they tend to have very little experience with romantic/sexual literature and the tropes and catchphrases they lay claim to. So fic writers will innocently sprinkle in poignant-sounding things they’ve picked up here and there, such as:

Blushing and heart racing when looking at the person

The phrase “falling for each other”

The man “caressing” his partner with “rough hands”

“He came undone”

And because their communities condemn people who “read into things”, nobody points out any of this shit, and it all slides out into the public Internet unquestioned.

And so, we get the most impressively uncomfortable platonic content I’ve ever seen. It’s no wonder I had never encountered something like this before. It required a lot of unusual circumstances intersecting in just the right (wrong) way.

In the end, I think the biggest aspect was just that I'd never become a fan of characters that had such a potentially-problematic canon relationship. Usually adult and kid characters have very different dynamics, so if fics treat their social interactions with all the tact of a bull in a china shop, it just comes off as lazy instead of creepy. I'd be interested to know if other platonic adult&child fandoms suffer from this issue.

In any case, although it was fascinating to watch, I sure hope I never run into it again.

#hap pops off about meta narrative #dadmight

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akookminsupporter · 3 months ago

Text

ARE YOU SURE?!: SIXTH EPISODE

MY IMPRESSIONS

Preface: This is not an analysis post, and honestly, I don’t want to overanalyse their interactions or everything they said and did—many others are already doing that. My intention with this post is simply to share my thoughts on the episodes, my impressions, and perhaps my conclusions.

I’m writing this as I watch the episodes for the second time.

Oh no, just from the intro, we can already tell we won’t survive Sapporo. I mean, that alone screams COMFORT.

So, no clips or mention of the time they spent in Tokyo? I wonder if we’ll see that in Jungkook’s documentary? Will Jimin be there too? Not just in Tokyo, but in New York as well. Oh, will we see Jimin celebrating with Jungkook when he released his single "3D"? That happened while they were in New York, right?

It seems unreal that we’re going to get so much content of blonde Jimin and black-haired Jungkook together.

How do you subconsciously say something? Hahaha, when did they say that? I wonder if the original plan was for the show to end in Jeju. The fact that there’s no clip of them deciding to go to Japan before actually going, like what happened when they decided to go to Jeju, makes me think that the trip wasn’t part of the initial plan. I wonder if, when it was confirmed Jungkook was going to Japan for work, they said something like, "Oh, I’d love to go to Japan one last time" or something similar, and the agency didn’t think it was a bad idea.

God, Jungkook mentioning their trip to Tokyo and then saying THAT'S WHY he wanted to go back… my heart! Plus, the tone in which he said it, while massaging Jimin’s neck and looking at him, not the camera… How do people expect us not to be… hopeful?

I don’t know if this is weird, but to me, Jungkook looks great with a mask and a big hoodie. It reminds me a lot of the picture I have as my profile picture. That’s one of my favourite photos of him.

Jimin reminding Jungkook to walk slowly (because Jimin walks slowly) is adorable. Did you notice how Jimin was holding Jungkook’s hand while it was inside his hoodie?

Okay. Them in the car. The angle. The closeness. Jungkook’s expressions. They DO NOT HELP CALM MY IMAGINATION. Also, I don’t understand their seating arrangements. Jungkook looked HOT in that clip. Bro, the car was spacious. Why did they decide to film the clip like that? Oh, Jikook.

Jungkook loves getting the camera up close to Jimin’s face. I guess he loves his eyes. God, saying he can see a lot when Jimin asked if he could see anything… JUNGKOOK!

It’s no longer "Ppeuri" but "standing next to you". I guess this is my tinhat moment of the post. Do these songs, especially the words or parts of Jungkook’s songs, have double meanings for them? Because the way they said them and the way they looked at each other while doing so tells me yes, but I don’t know if it’s just what I want to believe or…

Jimin and Jungkook sitting in their hotel room, deciding what to do or eat, is everything right with the world. I LOVE these moments in the show. I appreciate that the editors decided to include more of this. They should’ve done the same when they were in the US.

Ahh, Jungkook’s best ship will always be him and food hahaha.

Sharing sausage is fine, and even beer – though Jimin didn’t end up drinking any because Jungkook had already drunk it all – but Jungkook crosses the line by eating the potato skin just because Jimin touched it with his fingers. Okay, Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook, what video did you watch? When did you watch it? Didn’t Jimin film the video he was talking about the day before the trip?

Jimin forgetting about the camera and, with it, the fact they were filming a show told me he was comfortable enough on the trip not to see it as "work".

They don’t know the concept of personal space, do they?

Them making jokes or comments about when they’d be in the military is both funny and sad. Why did they make them do that? They should be on stage, not on the border with the crazies from the north!

They love snow.

When the clip of Jungkook falling came out in the show’s trailers, I thought he was imitating Jimin’s part from "Spring Day", but it turns out he actually fell hahaha.

Jungkook being sure that Jimin would love the gimbap triangle he chose… he knows him well!

Again with the "standing next to you", and this time Jimin said part of it, paused, and Jungkook continued. That means something more between them. Either that, or I’m going crazy hahaha.

Jimin and Jungkook bickering over the most mundane, often domestic things is everything.

Fluffy Jimin and Jungkook!

I’m confused. Was Jungkook talking about the restaurant they went to in Tokyo in 2017? But then Jungkook said he went there that day, and Jimin said he’d gone a few days before. So, they were saying that they went back to the restaurant recently, right?

Ahhh, so Taemin recommended that restaurant to Jimin, and that’s why Jimin and Jungkook went there when they travelled to Tokyo in 2017. Each of them remembering things from the trip the other didn’t is what I call teamwork, or I guess it’s team memory hahaha.

It’s too sweet seeing the hyung line, especially, almost in denial of the fact that Jungkook is all grown up, that he’s an incredible person and an amazing artist. They’re all proud of their maknae.

I really appreciate how Jungkook never makes Jimin feel bad for wanting to eat more or anything like that. On the contrary, he’s always cared about Jimin eating well and eating enough.

Jungkook calling each destination a season - no pun intended - is hilarious. Jungkook, I need more seasons, please!

Jungkook with a headband is too cute.

Jimin and Jungkook love the snow. And Sapporo. Also, they’re great ambassadors for CD and CK, hahaha.

We’ve all been Jungkook, scolding ourselves for eating and drinking too much. I’m like Jungkook almost every day, hahaha.

Jungkook saying he’ll remember those moments from the trip, aka being with Jimin when he’s in the army… with Jimin, that’s everything. Jimin’s comedic timing is everything.

Jungkook predicting Jimin’s intentions… again, hahaha, they know each other so well. Oh, and Jungkook taking a few minutes to choose which glasses to wear because, according to him, none looked good on him. Then Jimin just picks the first pair Jungkook chose, and they look great on him – that’s comedy gold. The way he looked at him, like “Really?” Hahaha.

Jungkook loves the snow. The cold. The winter.

They seriously don’t know the concept of personal space. Also, their bickering is always super funny.

By the way, Jungkook’s bag or pouch or whatever it was – it’s so cute!

Jungkook made Jimin do the sign of the cross over his food with the camera? I mean, I guess that’s some kind of ritual? Hahaha.

I don’t care how this sounds: Every time Jimin talks down about his looks or his body, I just want to slap him a couple of times to make him understand that he’s beautiful, handsome, lovely, incredible. Gorgeous inside and out.

Jungkook’s mission was to make special memories to remember during his military service. And it’s sweet that those memories were made with Jimin so they can reminisce about them together while they serve because they enlisted together. Will they talk about that?

It makes as much sense as Jungkook not wanting to eat the potato skin because Jimin touched it with his fingers but was totally fine with those same fingers in his mouth. That logic is slightly illogical, but I guess it makes sense to him.

Jungkook loves Sapporo.

Joking about their military service was their way of coping, hahaha. It’s not funny, but I’m laughing.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up living in Japan, hahaha. They really do have a special connection with certain cities in that country.

Was it really that hard for the editors to give us more of this in the USA? Like, I want to see the everyday Jimin and Jungkook. Not in a rush, just enjoying everything. Being happy simply by… being. That said, it’s hilarious seeing Jimin and Jungkook acting “normal” in Sapporo, with security and their managers behind them, hahaha.

Wait, so Jimin saw the same video as Jungkook where someone was talking about how to talk to cats or something like that? Do they share accounts, and send each other funny videos all the time, or are they really just that similar? Which is it?

The editing the team did to avoid showing the inside of the train station and the train is hilarious, hahaha.

I love how Jungkook will always be gentle with Jimin.

Jimin covering his right ear because he was wearing one of Jungkook’s AirPods, even though he’s a Samsung ambassador, is so funny. And it was even more obvious – and therefore funnier – when Jungkook said they were listening to a Japanese song and he was only using one AirPod, hahaha.

Again, do they have the same 'For You' pages on every video platform, or do they constantly send each other links, or are they really that similar that they watch the same content? Because Jimin always gets the meme or joke references Jungkook makes. And he always plays along. And vice versa.

Jimin deserves an award for not showing that AirPod, hahaha. My question is, wouldn’t it have been easier to just use Samsung headphones or something?

JUNGKOOK RESTING HIS HEAD ON JIMIN’S SHOULDER IS TOO CUTE. ONE OF THE SOFTEST, SWEETEST, SHYEST, AND MOST PERSONAL MOMENTS BETWEEN JIMIN AND JUNGKOOK.

Sapporo, you will always be special.

Jimin and Jungkook don’t know the concept of personal space.

Awww, Jimin talking about having a daughter. I’ve no doubt he’d be a great dad.

Jungkook telling Jimin he didn’t want him to drive without actually saying he didn’t want him to drive is peak Jungkook when it comes to Jimin.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen Jungkook do that hand gesture he and Jimin use when they’re telling themselves to focus on something, hahaha.

Jimin really loves the song 'Hate You'. I remember how, during Jungkook’s concert, he said in the comments that it was his favourite song.

That’s right, Jungkook! Screw society’s standards. It’s a shame we couldn’t hear 'Christmas Day'. As compensation, they should give us another song together.

Okay, but being a bit serious, them walking in that place under the snow, with their coordinated outfits, huge smiles, and constant giggles, it almost looked idyllic. Romantic. Sometimes it’s not our imagination – it’s them giving our imagination material, hahaha.

Them going to a… museum? I think it’s a museum or something like that, about whisky, it's so… hahaha. Yoongi would be proud. They’re so funny, so chaotic, and so quirky. And the most impressive thing is how well they match. Also, they really like role-playing. Like, it’s one of their things.

Nooo, they forgot to pay! They probably thought the staff would handle it, hahaha. Jungkook giving the card to Jimin is so relatable – I’d do the same out of embarrassment. Jungkook having to pay in cash at the end is hilarious. Seriously, they’re funny without even trying. My question is, was that their personal card or the company’s? Hahaha.

Jimin and Jungkook don’t know the concept of personal space.

Jimin and Jungkook seriously love the snow. Like, really, really love it. They just click, you know?

When the clip of them playing in the snow came out in one of the trailers, I remember someone on Twitter saying they’d bet that after Jungkook threw the snow block at Jimin and dusted off his hands, he went straight over to help Jimin brush the snow off himself – and damn, they were right. And I don’t know if that means we know their dynamic that well, or if Jungkook’s just that predictable when it comes to Jimin... although, isn’t that basically the same thing?

Honestly, it’s impressive how they instantly get references from memes or viral videos the other made because, how on earth did they even find that video of... Ken? Saying "good" every two seconds? Seriously, how? Did Jimin send it to Jungkook or did Jungkook send it to Jimin? Because I refuse to believe they’re that similar, to the point their 'For You' pages or video recommendations are practically the same.

Jungkook, you didn’t eat the potato skin because Jimin touched it, but you’ll... never mind.

The fact that they pointed out they think the same way is funny to us as fans, because it’s like, wow, Jimin and Jungkook just said that if you put your hand in a glass of water, it’ll get wet, hahaha.

It’s hilarious that Jungkook wondered what it would be like if they were the same age. I suppose he was talking from a cultural POV and it's funny because their dynamic doesn’t really fit that context, and that’s one of the main things that sets them apart from the other members or their dynamics with them. Jungkook often comes across as Jimin’s hyung, and Jimin’s fine with it – which is crazy when you remember that’s something Jimin really respects. Jungkook often drops the honorifics with Jimin or speaks informally to him, and it feels natural like they do it all the time. So, him saying that is funny because their relationship would probably be exactly the same as it is now, except Jungkook would never call Jimin hyung.

Jungkook, YOU TWO ARE ALREADY EACH OTHER's COPY!

Jungkook, I need you to keep your promise and tell us the real story about that fight between Jimin and Tae, hahaha.

Hearing them talk about their future plans, touring again, and all seven being together is beautiful. I can’t wait for 2025. Damn, I need money.

MY CONCLUSIONS ON THE SIXTH EPISODE

I loved this episode. Like I said in another post, it’s my second favourite episode of the show so far.

Here, we returned to that normality in their dynamic and the show, that we saw in the first two episodes. We went back to the calm, the tranquillity of their trip. I loved that the editors decided to show more of Jimin and Jungkook’s day just… being. Discovering or exploring their surroundings.

I loved that domesticity that many of us were craving to see again.

Sapporo feels different. More intimate, more… melancholic. I suppose it’s because of the moment they were in, in their lives, and what would happen a few weeks after that trip. That said, I also think it’s because of Jimin and Jungkook. Here, we didn’t see that little awkwardness we saw in the first episode. Here, they weren’t adjusting to anything. They weren’t reconnecting, so to speak. They were just them from the start. Literally, from the beginning of the episode, I loved that. I loved seeing them happy and more in sync than ever in this show, honestly – and that says a lot when we’re talking about Jimin and Jungkook.

Something I love about AYS is that it gave Jimin and Jungkook the chance to be “normal”, and to do ordinary things like go to a supermarket or ride a train. And yes, I know they do that kind of thing in Korea, especially the two of them, but maybe not with as much freedom. And yes, I know they had a security team with them, but I hope you get what I mean.

Something I’ve really appreciated seeing is how much Jimin and Jungkook validate each other’s wants. And I don’t mean anything dramatic or anything like that, but the little things like Jungkook wanting to eat more and Jimin saying it doesn’t matter, go ahead, or asking if they should order more food or saying he should get his beer like it’s no big deal. Jungkook telling Jimin it was fine if he wanted another gimbap triangle, etc. They validate and encourage each other to do things they’re hesitant about, whether it’s buying something or eating something – they don’t mock or criticise the other for it. That’s so sweet and important to see in any relationship. Validation and words of affirmation. These are two fundamental things in any kind of relationship, no matter what type. And not just that, I love how throughout the whole show they made sure the other was happy, asking if they liked what they were doing or what they did. The subtle way they care for each other, not just from a material or physical standpoint but also emotionally, is so beautiful to watch.

I loved Sapporo. I loved Jimin and Jungkook in Sapporo, and it makes me sad to think that the show is coming to an end, but I’m treasuring every smile, every moment, every laugh. I’m going to cherish the fact that they shared all those moments with us.

I can imagine many people are happy with this episode because it gave us the same feeling that the first two episodes did. And I don’t blame them. I still think the Jeju episodes were good because they highlighted the difference in the dynamic between Jimin and Jungkook compared to how they interact with other members but Sapporo will always be special. I can’t wait to see the next episode.

Jimin and Jungkook could totally pull off the funniest thing in the world at the end of AYS by releasing a song together. Actually, why just one song? An EP would be amazing!

If you’ve made it this far, I’m sorry and thank you—I just couldn’t stop writing ajajajajaa.

#ask #anon #jkk show #rosie's thoughts

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lowkeyrobin · 8 months ago

Note

Hiiii! i love ur writing and was wondering if u could do Tommy, Quackity, Niki, Charlie, and Philza with an s/o (close friend for Phil) who is in a riot grrrl band???

stuff like this:

HAVE A NICE DAY/MORNING/NIGHT:]]]

oooo okay!! I can definitely try! I don't listen to many riot bands so excuse any weird stuff that doesn't totally make sense ; have a nice day/night to you too 🫶🫶🫶 ; made sure to make this as gn as possible for everyone so I apologize if it goes against the more feminine aspect of the genre/kinda ruins it 🙏

MCYT ; riot band

includes ; tommyinnit, quackity, nihachu, slimecicle, & philza

warnings ; language

y/b/n = your band name

y/f/n = your fandom name

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he loves your music

you're the heaviest band he listens to 🙏🙏 he does try and get into the genre more because he does actually enjoy your music

you're the lead singer for your band, so every time he hears your vocals, he gets all smiley, even in public, which he tries to hide

will make sure to attend every single one of your gigs and record the whole thing LMAO

if he's like the perfect distance away from the stage, you'll sneakily look at him to help your nerves and make it feel like he's the only one in the room

he helps you write lyrics as well/get inspo for new songs

"and it goes in a rythym like ba-dada-bum-ba-dada-bum, yknow?"

extra points if your band sounds a lot like Hole or Veruca Salt, bc he'd definitely have some of their songs on a playlist

casually your biggest fan, always reposting gig dates and playing your music on stream

leaving comments under picture posts on the band insta like "come back to brighton for my birthday please, I beg" and "its to early to be served perfection, wait a few hours :("

he doesn't always make sense but he's loving and absolutely loves your music dw

NIKI NIHACHU

she is the number one fan

she got your bands top listener and has over 15k minutes of listening time by the end of the year

you're lead guitar, so she's always interested in watching you play and how you move your hands and fingers to create such a cool sound

extra bonus points if your band uses that kind of echoey down to your soul feel, kinda like suicideboys or lil peep (best examples I got bc I'm not into this genre very much lmao)

always bringing you up in conversation as well

if anyone's looking for bands to listen to, you're a million percent the first she suggests

you show her new chords you wanna use or expand on and she just watches and listens so intently

always playing your music on chill streams and recommending her viewers to listen to your band, and always points out that its you playing lead guitar

"personally, I think you should be winning a Grammy this year"

"ehhh... MTV awards are better"

"I'm gonna go get you nominated for the MTV awards then, I'll be back"

"I don't think that's how it works!-"

ALEX QUACKITY

he mostly listens to stuff like victoria monet, the weeknd, childish gambino, sza, etc

but being dragged into the rabbit hole of riot bands expanded his music taste a lotttt

you're the lead singer of course (main character hours)

yk the clip of him on the qsmp and metro boomin randomly starts playing? that happens but with your band!

"whoops- I-I have no idea why the hell that started playing, sorry! the last thing I was listening to wasn't even y/b/n, the fuck?"

he gets all his close friends hooked on your music as well

bonus points if you get a more grunge kinda feel in there like foo fighters or nirvana

always posting pics of you from gigs or reposting pics of you/your band

and always leaving comments like "vocal lessons when?" and "gig near you ✅️ gig near me ❌️"

always roasting your music as a joke as well

"the blueprint 3, one album, solos y/b/n. sorry y/n"

"must I bring up-"

"nope!"

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

he looks like the type of guy to secretly have a 200 song long playlist of punk music idk

you're the bassist, and he loves making you play shit on stream for him lmao

also loves reposting anything relating to you and your band, fanart, random rants about your music, gig dates, new music release dates, photos, etc

don't get him started on the edits

he'll randomly blurt out random noises and rythyms and boom, writers block gone, new song? made.

serious bonus points if you sound the slightest bit like joey valance & brae

you show him how to play bass a bit as well

always recording every gig, he's so proud of you, plus the lights make you look so good

always talking about you as well

"my partner is a bassist in a band, I think they solo all of you losers"

"Charlie what?? when were we talking about significant others?"

"since I said so, bitch!"

cue video game car crash

he has a little thing in the bottom of the stream screen with the album cover w a spinning record next to it, and on top is the song & band name. 80% of the time it's just your band

^he uses that during his stream starting soon segments, bathroom/snack breaks, or chill streams on the qsmp

PHILZA

he and kristen both love your music

he sees you like his kid so he's going the extra mile to support you all the time

from streaming your music in the car to reposting and posting about gig dates, new music and merch drops, etc etc

you even have your own little section in his Discord titled 'y/b/n chat' (and another for announcements about your band/notifs OK social media titled 'y/b/n announcements')

when spotify wrapped comes around, your his third most listened to artist, and kristen's second LMAO

"aweee thank you father, I appreciate your loyalty to y/f/n and the band 🫶"

always bringing up your music as well, especially when streaming with friends

"Tommy, did you listen to y/b/n's new song yet? I think you'd like it"

"wait wait hold on lemme pull it up"

he goes to a few of your gigs with kristen and he's just chilling in the back like a proud parent

you always find him and smile because he's there cheering you on

he's more of a dad than your actual dad bro

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #quackity x reader #alex quackity x reader #quackityhq x reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #philza minecraft #mcyt x gn reader

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tuiccim · 5 months ago

Text

Wrecked (Part 6)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle, excessive drinking

Summary: When Frank Castle found his way to your small town bar, you thought you had finally found your Alpha despite being a "wrecked omega" but when his best friend, Billy Russo, blows through town, your world tilts on its axis. You thought you found your happy ending but was it just more wreckage for your life?

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader and hype princess, @whisperlullaby

Wrecked Masterlist

“A delivery. It’s for you,” you look at him curiously.

“Can’t be,” Frank stalks toward you.

“Frank Castle,” you say softly, turning the envelope around for him to see.

“Let me see that,” Frank rips open the envelope and pulls out a sheet of paper. As he unfolds it, you look over his shoulder at the printed sheet. It shows a blog post about a club opening, the picture has several people toasting with champagne. You read the two words written on the sheet of paper, “He’s back?”

Frank stares at the paper in his hand and goes chillingly still. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. Looking at the paper, you see it places the mysterious “he” in New York. “Frank?” You say his name.

His hand clenches, crumpling the sheet of paper, and he growls, “I have to go.”

“Go?” You ask in a panic, “Go where? What is this about? Who is he?”

He turns to you and his face is a mask of calm despite the rage emanating from his body, “That’s the man that killed my family.” He points to one of the men.

“I- I thought that was a car accident,” you question.

“He was the drunk that hit them.”

“He got out of jail?” You wonder.

“Never went. His dad managed to make all it go away and then made him disappear,” Frank stares at the picture.

“Now, he’s back,” you say quietly, almost to yourself.

“I have to go,” he repeats.

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“Get justice.”

“Justice or revenge?” You pause, waiting for him to answer but he remains stoic. “What about my heat?”

“What about it?”

“It’s going to hit any day now. You said you’d help me through it.”

“You’ve made it through heat without an Alpha before. You’ll be fine,” he says quietly, not quite meeting your eyes.

“And mating me? Was it all a lie?” You are surprised at how calm you are.

“No, I would have,” Frank assures.

“But not now,” you look at him for a long moment. “Were you going to let me mark you?”

Instinctively, his hand went to the faded mark on his neck as if he was protecting it. That was all the answer you needed.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you be back?”

He glances away for a second and then back with a defeated look.

“I’ll make this easy, Frank. If you can’t tell me, right now, that you’ll be back , don’t come back at all.” Your stomach rolled at the thought but you stood your ground.

“Babe-”

“Don’t babe me,” you seeth.

“Omega-”

“Don’t you dare! Go!” You yell, startling yourself. Anger that he would attempt to use your designation had your voice raising without a thought. The realization that you were right all along settled heavily on your shoulders. He never loved you. Who could love a wrecked Omega?

Grabbing your keys, you leave the house. You just can’t watch him gather his few belongings and walk out of your life. You drive aimlessly. By the time you take notice of your surroundings, you realize you’re in Cecily’s neighborhood. You had driven there on autopilot to the only person who had ever given a damn about you. Now, the words of your fight reverberated in your head, “No one wants you! No one will ever really love you!” She was right. Maybe your father should have put you down like she said. Tears well as the reality hits you, you truly have no one. Not a single person you could go to, no one to pour your heart out to. You were alone.

Turning the car around, you head to your bar. Tears streamed down your face as you berated yourself for hoping that someone could ever really love the wrecked omega. The sight of the bar as you arrived brought you no solace. No one wanted you there either. You were simply put up with because you owned it.

Staring through your windshield you laid your head back against the headrest and just let the tears flow. You tried not to think, to just be but images popped in your head unbidden. Memories of the constant reminders your family doled out about your brokenness, of your time with Frank, your fight with Cecily, all of it flooded in and you found yourself sobbing. You cried harder than you had in years, letting it all out until there were no more tears. Your eyes were puffy and swollen. You wiped your face as best as you could and went into the bar. You grabbed some ice and a towel and sequestered yourself in the office. You laid the cool cloth across your face to relieve some of the swelling.

“Boss? That you?” Jordan’s voice calls as he enters the office.

You sit up quickly, trying to discreetly remove the towel. “Yeah, its me,” your voice is raspy from crying and you concentrate on some of the paperwork in front of you trying to avoid him seeing your distress.

“Uh… you okay?” Jordan hedges.

“Fine. Just trying to catch up. What’s up?” You try to dodge.

“Nothing really. I thought I’d check up on you. You’ve been here a lot this week,” he leaves the statement open ended.

“Is that a problem? It’s my bar,” you bristle even as you feel tears sting again.

“Of course not. You’ve also been stressed and a little snippy. I thought something might be going on,” Jordan replies calmly.

Putting your face in your hand you take a deep breath.

“Hey, everything okay?” Robbie’s voice comes from behind you.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Jordan waits patiently for you to answer.

You take another deep breath and blink back the tears. You turn around to face them, sure you look like a wreck but what did it matter? You were just their boss and landlord. You didn’t mean anything to them.

“What happened?” Robbie says as he moves toward you.

“Who do I need to kill?” Jordan says, clenching his fist.

You scoff laughingly and look up at him, “That would be Frank.”

“Okay, that could prove problematic,” Jordan hedges comically.

“What did he do?” Robbie pushes.

“He’s leaving. I knew it would happen eventually. It was just kinda sudden,” your voice breaks and you look away.

“Why do you say that? That you knew he’d leave?” Robbie asks.

You clear your throat before giving him a disbelieving look, “That’s sweet, Robbie, but we both know no one wants a wrecked Omega. If it wasn’t for the bar, I’d probably have been run out of town.”

Robbie looks at Jordan with confusion.

“You’re not wrecked,” Jordan insists before turning to Robbie, “She’s uh…”

You see him struggling for the words to explain and jump in, “Infertile. Unable to reproduce. A fake Omega. Wrecked. Can never have children. A waste of an Omega designation. A-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it,” Robbie stops you before you build to another meltdown. “I’m sorry that you’ve been made to feel that way. You’re a good woman. You don’t deserve it.”

“Good woman, bad Omega,” you nod.

“An Omega with a disability. You shouldn’t hold it against yourself any more than a diabetic or a person in a wheelchair. It’s just one small part of you. Try to be a little kinder to yourself”

You nod, “Thanks, Robbie. I appreciate you saying that.”

“Easier said than done, right?” Robbie says with chagrin.

You give him a small smile, “Anyway, nothing for you guys to worry about. I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t I call Cecily to come get you? We can handle everything tonight,” Jordan offers.

“Um… Cecily and I had a fight. We’re not really talking right now.”

“What happened there?” Jordan asks.

“She was upset that Frank’s friend Billy rejected her and lashed out. We said some pretty harsh things. If I went to her, she’d probably just crow that she was right about Frank,” you shrug but your lips tremble.

“I don’t think she would. You two have been friends for a long time,” Jordan crouches down next to you.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” you say dismissively, scared you might break down again.

“You’re our friend, we will worry,” Robbie says, crouching next to Jordan.

“Look, why don’t you go up to the apartment and try to relax? I’ll go grab some food for you and we can cover the bar tonight. You’ll only be a few stairs away if needed,” Jordan says.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll get myself together before opening,” you demure.

“You don’t have to always be so brave,” Jordan says softly, remembering the countless times you've handled situations with patrons. “Let us take care of you for once. You’ve done it plenty of times for me.”

“Come on,” Robbie holds a hand out to you. “I’ll take you up and get you settled while Jordan gets the food.”

You look between the two, overwhelmed and grateful for their kindness. Nodding your head, you take Robbie’s hand and let him guide you upstairs. He settled you on the couch, got a pillow and blanket, put the tv remote within reach, and brought a charger for your phone. You smiled as he handed you a drink, “Thank you. I, um, I really appreciate this.”

“Is there anything else you think you’ll need?”

“No, thank you. How are you liking the town?” You attempt to shift his attention.

“It’s a change from LA,” Robbie laughs. “It’s nice, though. A quieter, slower kind of life here.”

“And you like it? Enough to become home for you?”

“Yeah, I mean, wherever Jordan is,” Robbie says, trying to be casual but you can see the tension in his shoulders.

“I see. So, you and Jordan are together?” You ask to be certain.

“Yeah, we’d like to find an omega, form a pack. I mean, I know it’s not the norm but…” he shrugs.

“I think that’s awesome. Any Omega would be lucky to have you two.”

“Thanks. For, you know, being kind about it.”

“Of course. Was Jordan afraid to tell me?” You ask.

“I think he was scared you’d think less of him as an Alpha or something. He asked me to bring it up to you,” Robbie's gaze begs for understanding.

“Jordan’s a good man. I’d never think less of him. But, you, waiting until I’m all vulnerable and emotional to tell me. I mean…”

“No, that wasn’t, I didn’t mean, I wouldn’t-” Robbie stutters.

“I’m just messing with you, Robbie. Thank you for telling me. I hope you find your Omega,” you smile at him but it fades as the memories of the day trickle back in.

Robbie kept you company until Jordan returned and the three of you ate together. They went down to the bar shortly after to get things ready for the night. You laid on the couch and did little else. Several times you picked your phone up wanting to call Frank or text Cecily, to reach out to someone, but each time you set it back down. You listened to the music that drifted from downstairs and eventually the hubbub from below lulled you to sleep. You ended up staying there for two more nights. You just couldn’t bring yourself to go back to the cabin and the guys were so gracious and caring towards you that you were loath to leave them. They’d become your source of comfort in all of this.

But, you had to face it all. You knew you’d have to return to your empty cabin and try to move on, so you gathered your things and trounced down the stairs. You were about to turn toward the exit when a flash of movement near the bar caught your eye. Moving closer, you see Cecily sitting alone with a glass and a bottle of vodka. She poured herself a finger of the liquor and downed it. Setting your things down, you walk over to her.

“Hi,” you say gently.

“Hi,” she replies softly, not looking at you. She pours another drink and shoots it the same as she did the first. Licking her lips, she stares at the bottle before saying quietly, “He didn’t want me.”

“He-”

“Not Billy. I don’t mean Billy. Or Frank,” she cuts you off. “Owen. The Alpha my dad tried to pawn me off on. He didn’t want me.”

“Then he’s a fucking idiot,” you say matter-of-factly as you sit next to her.

“Damn right,” she says as she grabs another glass and pours you both a drink.

“Cheers,” you say, clinking your glass to hers and throwing back the liquid.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just so hurt and another rejection happening right then just set me off and I took it out on you and I’m so, so sorry,” Cecily’s voice breaks as she speaks.

You put your arm around her, “Shhhh, it’s okay. I understand and I’m sorry, too. We both said some harsh things we didn’t mean. Anyway, you were right.”

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“Frank left,” you grab the bottle and pour another shot for each of you.

“I’m sorry. He’s a fucking idiot, too,” she leans into you as you both drink.

“Do you want to tell me what happened with Owen? I mean, I know he’s an idiot but what reason could he possibly give for turning you down?”

“My lineage,” she says bitterly.

“Your what?” You say, shocked.

“My lineage,” she pours again, “When he realized that both my parents are Betas, he and his family didn’t want the match anymore. They were worried I would only give him Betas or Omegas and they need an Alpha offspring. He’s the last of their line. His mother produced two Betas, three Omegas, and finally one perfect Alpha. So, they need a strong Alpha lineage behind his Omega.”

“So, he isn’t looking for a mate, he’s looking for a broodmare?” You ask, flabbergasted.

“Exactly. Actually, the one before him… he…”

“No!” You exclaim, already understanding her implication.

“My parents thought they won the lottery with me but it turns out that Beta-spawned Omegas are tainted,” Cecily shakes her head.

“Wrecked and tainted. We are quite the pair,” you laugh humorlessly.

“You’re not wrecked,” Cecily says vehemently.

“You’re not tainted,” you reply in the same tone before you both dissolve into giggles. The next couple of hours are filled with laughter, tears, more apologies and forgiveness, and way too many shots. When Jordan and Robbie return from wherever they had been, they found the two of you laying on the floor with your heads together and legs propped up on chairs.

“What in the hell are you two doing?” Jordan exclaims. He surveys the two glasses, an empty bottle laying on its side, and a half empty bottle on the bar as he hurries over.

“We are commiserating on the stupidity of designations,” you slur.

“I don’t know how she can still use words that big when we're this drunk,” Cecily says before she begins giggling uncontrollably.

“I am not drunk, I am… no, no, you’re right. I am drunk. Holy shit, I haven’t been this drunk in forever,” you look at Cecily and you both start laughing. Jordan and Robbie look at each other and shake their heads. Jordan grabs your hand and helps you to stand, while Robbie does the same for Cecily.

When Cecily is standing she takes a long look at Robbie before smiling, “Hiya, Handsome. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Oh! Cecily, this is Robbie,” you stumble over to him and put a hand on his chest. “He’s Jordan’s friend. Isn’t he cute?”

“Mm-hm, very cute. I mean, I’ve always thought Jordan was fine but, damn, now he’s bringing around fine ass friends. How am I supposed to control myself?” Cecily whispers loudly.

“I’m their boss, I can't think like that,” you whisper back.

“I’m not their boss,” Cecily says, excitedly. “I’m totally thinking like that.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” Jordan says after a minute.

You both look at them in shock before dissolving into giggles once again. You lean on each other but neither of you are steady and both men jump to keep you from falling. Jordan puts your arm around his shoulders and guides you to the stairs. Robbie attempts to do the same with Cecily but she was less stable than you so he swept her into his arms.

“You’ve swept me off my feet,” Cecily titters as she lays her head on Robbie’s shoulder.

“What are we gonna do with you two?” Jordan shakes his head laughing.

“Take us to bed?” Cecily slurs suggestively.

“Oh my God, Cec, stop!” You laugh.

“Don’t worry, princesa, I’m going to put you to bed,” Robbie teases. “With some food and water. And you’re going to sleep this off and then we can be introduced properly when you’ve sobered up.”

“I like him already,” Cecily breathes as she snuggles into him.

“He’s a good guy. They both are,” you smile drunkenly.

They get you both upstairs and into Jordan’s bed. Food, bottles of water, headache medicine and your phones are set on the nightstand. Cecily immediately cuddles up to you. Before you fall asleep, the guys insist you each drink a bottle of water to which you comply. Before more than a few minutes pass, you and Cecily are passed out.

“I guess they made up,” Jordan cracks a smile as he and Robbie head back downstairs.

“I guess so,” Robbie laughs. “So, uh, Cecily?”

“She’s always been a little wild, man. I’ve always had the hots for her but I never knew she found me attractive. But, I mean, she’s cool and all,” Jordan eyes Robbie suspiciously.

Robbie smirks at him but changes the subject, “Let’s head downstairs. Looks like it’s just you and me tonight. Better prep.”

“Good point,” Jordan leads the way.

–

Early the next morning you wake with a headache. It had been quite a while since you had drank like that and your body was angry at the abuse. You tried to move as your bladder yelled at you to be relieved but Cecily was clinging to you like a koala.

“Cec,” you try to push her off but she snuggles harder against you. “Come on, chick. I’m gonna pee the bed if I don’t go!”

Cecily groans but releases you. You shake your head as you move to the bathroom. Walking back afterwards, you see the medicine on the table and silently bless the guys for their forethought. You downed a bottle with a couple of the pills. Putting some of the water in your hand, you flick a few drops onto Cecily.

“Mmph, jerk. Stahp,” she whines.

“Take these,” you push some medicine and a water bottle into her hand. She throws them both back without opening her eyes and then turns over to bury her head in a pillow. Shrugging, you do the same. You cat nap for a while, trying to just relax but the events of the last two weeks float through your head as you do. You kick yourself for drinking so much yesterday. You felt weird. Your head hurt and your stomach, you even felt a little feverish. It wasn’t but an hour or so later that your body screamed for the toilet again. It was then that you realized what was happening. It wasn’t the hangover. At least, it wasn’t all the hangover. Your heat was starting.

Quickly, you wake Cecily, “Hey. I have to go. I’m sorry. I’m going to get my things and head home. I’ll text you later.”

“What’s the matter?” She says groggily.

“I’m pretty sure my heat is starting. I need to get home,” you explain.

“Shit, okay,” she sits up, putting a hand to her head, “Ow. Text me when you get there. Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll bring it to you.”

“Thanks, Cec,” you say.

“I’m sorry,” she says sadly.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” you shake your head.

“Going through heat without an Alpha sucks, though.”

“Can’t be helped. I’ll be okay. I’ve done it before,” you shrug.

“Jordan would prob-”

“No! That’s a line I don’t want to cross,” you say firmly.

“Okay, okay. I’m serious, let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” you say as you gather your things. You look back at her before you slip out of the room, “I’m glad you came yesterday. I’ve missed you.”

“I love you, too,” Cecily smiles before groaning and flopping back down on the bed.

You managed to leave the apartment without waking the guys and head to your cabin. The closer you got, the sicker you felt. When it came into view, you realized your cheeks were wet. This was very different from how you thought this heat would pan out. Now, you have to get through it alone. Cecily was right. This was gonna suck.

Part 7

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