#he just goes and wakes those poor people up

[prodagustd]

surprise | myg

this is an extra chapter of the so it goes series.

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

—rating: +18

—genre: established relationship, ex fwb, angst, fluff

—warnings/tags: implied smut, lots of angst, fluff, subtle talk about aborti0n, DON’T trust my poor knowledge in contraceptive methods and use condoms!! english is not my first language btw

—words: 7.6k

a/note: this is proof that if you ask me enough, I'll finish writing my wips!! it's been a long time but I finally get to post the surprise drabble I've been planning and it makes me sososo happy to come back to this couple 😭 I missed them so much I just hope you missed them as much as I did!! BTW I was planning to post this after two other drabbles, so if you read any additional information it's because this was intended to be posted after that, but i wanted to post this so badly😭 so here it is!! hehe anyway enjoy!!

A few years ago, when you and Yoongi were beginning to be a thing and you still lived with your best friend, Nayeon, while he lived alone in his big apartment, he picked up this habit of begging you to stay the night with him every time you visited, even though he knew you couldn’t. You used to say no, trying hard to ignore the way he kissed your neck and sneaked his hands under your blouse while explaining that, if you said yes, he was willing to wake up early and drive you to your first class the next day. You'd think that after the first or maybe even the second time he tried this, the effect would wear off, but you ended up agreeing every single time.

Back then everything was so new to him, he couldn’t remember the last time he liked someone that much, he didn’t know what was happening to him and why he wanted to spend every night with you, why he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Sure you were pretty, sure you were beautiful and funny, and your lips tasted like strawberries and you looked at him like one else ever did, maybe it had something to do with that, who knew? The only thing he knew was that he felt like a teenager everytime you kissed him, or every time you ran your fingers through his hair or every time you were naked under him, or on top of him, or anywhere close to him for that matter. 

It took Yoongi a few hits, ten drunk nights and way too many days to realize that you were the only thing that he needed, that the world only made sense if you were by his side. 

With time, Yoongi learned to kiss slowly, to make love slowly, to take things with ease; he learned that you were going nowhere, but there were still those moments where he felt he couldn’t get enough of you; like tonight, to be exact. 

You were sure that in the last four years of dating Yoongi you had made it clear enough that you were a city girl, and you were certain your boyfriend knew that. You loved the noise and the chaos—the people bumping into each other on the streets, the busy days and nights. It wasn’t something you planned to give up anytime soon; this was the perfect time in your life to embrace the city's hustle. You’d have plenty of time for a quiet life when you got older.

Yoongi liked the city too—he enjoyed the view from his apartment window and the convenience of ordering food at any hour of the night. But he also loved road trips and sleeping in the middle of nowhere in a tent, bonfires, fishing and swimming in lakes. Yoongi had always been into camping, but instead of planning a trip with his good old friend Seokjin, who didn’t mind sleeping in a tent and loved fishing, he invited you—someone who hated bugs and couldn’t stand the idea of walking more than three minutes to find a bathroom.

You were still trying to decide whether not being able to say no to Yoongi was a problem, but it was his last free week before going back on tour. When he looked at you with starry eyes and asked you to go on a trip with him, which included spending the last two days sleeping in a tent, you couldn’t say no.

It was only two days, you were sure you could endure not sleeping in a proper bed for that long if that made him happy, you made the effort of not complaining just for tonight, after all you only had tickets to go visit him on tour in exactly five weeks, you were going to miss him. 

It was easy not to complain when Yoongi’s plans for your last night together were exclusively romantic; he cooked for you, built a campfire and spent the rest of the night stargazing until it was too cold to be outside, and when you were inside the tent he made sure to have hot water bags under the blankets, but they were no use when he was determined to get you naked. 

Did you mention that it was still winter?

Now you were trapped in a tent with him, straddling him as he kissed you deeply and gripped your thighs, begging you to ride him against your lips. That was when you started to complain. 

You felt your whole body shivering when Yoongi’s warm hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, leaving you almost naked. You hugged your torso, attempting to cover your breasts as you sat straight on top of your boyfriend, who was comfortably laying on the sleeping bag, fully clothed. 

“Yoongi, I’m cold.” You whined.

“C’mon, it’s going to wear off” He tried to convince you, rubbing his palms over your shoulders to keep you warm. You shook your head, laying your head on his still clothed chest as he covered your bare back with the blanket. It was easy for him to say that when he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. 

You knew that Yoongi was already missing you. He was fully aware that after tonight, he wouldn’t see you for a whole month and he wanted to make it last as long as he could, to hold you and kiss you as much as you let him. He had gotten too used to you—used to sleeping and waking up next to you, having you all to himself—but it became a problem every time he had to leave for work, it was impossible not to miss you. You still had texts, calls and FaceTime, but he was also taking into account time difference, work, and the fact that all of that wasn’t the real thing. And if you were honest, you were already missing him too. 

“What if I catch a cold?” You mumbled over his shirt. 

Yoongi kissed the top of your head, running his hands down your bare back and sending chills to your spine. How was he able to get you almost naked but you didn’t even get the chance to take off his t-shirt? “It’s not that cold.” He said, not willing to give up. 

You raised your head to look at him, frowning “Says the person who’s still fully clothed.”

He huffed, flipping you over to leave you under him. Suddenly, warmth rushed over you as you felt his body hovering over your frame. He was quick to take off his own t-shirt, trying to make you happy, but he quickly realized that maybe you were right, it was fucking cold, but he wasn’t going to back down.

“Happy now?”

“No, it’s freezing out there!” You kept complaining “Why do we have to do it without clothes? I don’t mind clothes, I actually think that doing it while being dressed is quite hot.” 

You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Even though you were in fact turned on from the kissing and grinding session you had a few moments ago, you still were thinking about the logistics of fucking inside the tent. 

Yoongi scoffed, amused.  “And I actually think that you being naked is quite hot, too.” He said, sneaking his face in the crook of your neck to trail down little kisses, nibbling the skin softly. “C’mon, baby. I won’t see you for weeks, let me make love to you.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “You had been using that excuse the whole trip.” And you’ve fallen for it every time. His plans for this trip were very simple: fishing, camping and fucking you on every opportunity he had. It was not like you were against it, it has been a long time since you and him had time only for the two of you. 

“But isn’t it true?” He gazed up, looking at you with his soft eyes, his hair falling like a curtain on his face. “I’m gonna miss you.” 

You took a second to observe the tenderness of his features, to take in the softness of his voice, and for a moment there you knew why it was so hard to say no to him, you just didn’t want to say no. 

You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose. “We are gonna make such a mess.” You whined, but he just chuckled, knowing he won.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise.” He said with a soft voice, reaching for your lips as he roamed his hands towards your chest. You didn’t exactly know how he was going to “take care of it”, but his hands were gentle, the kiss was slow and when he opened his mouth to let his tongue slip past your lips, you were too into it to keep protesting about it.

As you sat on the cold bathroom floor of the home you shared with Yoongi, you tried to remind yourself of two basic things that you hoped would stop the sinking feeling in your chest. First, three weeks without Yoongi never killed anyone, this was something you knew from experience, Yoongi’s job demanded him to travel all the time, you were used to it, or at least you were supposed to be. Second, you were an independent woman (right?). You have been an independent woman since you were eighteen when you moved to Seoul alone, since you started a new life in a new city on your own. You woke up at six am everyday, worked hard your whole shift, paid the bills every month and managed to keep your house in order every day of the week. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and he loved you, and you could never imagine a life without him, but you didn’t need him, you wanted him. He wasn’t an extension of you, you were your own person, but why did you feel like the world was about to end right now if he was not there?

Crying your heart out like a five year old kid, you remembered the only time you had to take a pregnancy test, and how it looked nothing like this. 

Four years ago when you and Yoongi still didn’t kiss in front of your friends, when he still thought twice before holding your hand in public but still had the nerve of sneaking in your bed. That seemed like a hundred years ago, a universe away, but no, it was not too long ago when you were stubborn and kind of irresponsible for agreeing with him as he kissed your neck and ran his hands down your thighs while asking you if it was okay for him to “pull out” that night, since both of you completely forgot about condoms. You winced at the memory, but in your defense, you were too far gone to say no, take a cold shower and kiss him goodnight. You agreed only for that night, but three weeks later you were three days late and losing your mind, the only logical thing to do was to take a pregnancy test that, of course, came negative, but to this day you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that you felt in your stomach those minutes before the negative sign appeared, and you couldn’t forget how pale Yoongi’s face turned when you told him about it. 

And now you were there, one hand covering your face while the other held a pregnancy test—only this time, it was positive. 

The one on your hand wasn’t the only one, no. There were two other positive tests laying on the floor in front of you, and even if you wanted to not trust the results, they couldn’t be all wrong, right? The plus sign was very clear in each one of them and you were five days late. The problem was that you were on the pill, you had been on the pill for the last couple years and this never happened to you, this wasn’t something normal or a simple mistake. 

You breathed out, trying not to panic. You got up on your bare feet to look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, that was not a surprise at all, your face was all swollen for the amount of time you have been crying and your hair was a big nest above your head. You washed your face, attempting to remain calm and evaluating your options. You glanced at your phone resting on the sink, and an overwhelming urge to call your mother surged within you, but as you imagined how the conversation would go, you quickly realized it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Your mother was not nosy, but she could be a little dense, a bit complicated, and it was not what you needed right now. You were sure that calling her while having a mental breakdown was going to drive her crazy, and consequently, drive you crazy too.  She would want to know every single detail, date, place and hour to understand the situation better, and you would have to explain something you didn’t even understand yet. You could imagine the conversation, she would try to explain every contraceptive method like you were a teenager and ask why you didn’t use a condom, because you knew she would ask, and you didn’t want to explain to her how you went on vacation with your boyfriend to have a bunch of condomless sex, the thought alone made you want to vomit. 

Calling your mother was not an option, not only because talking to her on the phone was complicated enough, but because she was in a different city, which brought you to discard calling Nayeon too, who was on vacation with her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend, that sounded ridiculous to you, too.) 

The last option was something you couldn't even fathom doing unless you were desperate, but you know what they say, desperate times call desperate measures, so you blew your nose, brushed your hair and called the only person in this city who would come running without asking any questions, Jungkook.

Breaking the news to the person in front of you wasn’t easy, especially when the words you needed to say were as unreal as they sounded. You didn’t look much better, you spent the next thirty minutes that Jungkook took to arrive crying, as Holly, the brown fluffy dog, looked at you like you just went mad, the worst thing was that you weren’t far from it. It was difficult to keep it together when your mind refused to look at the bright side of things, when you couldn’t call your mom and Yoongi was in another country, but when Jungkook rang your bell and entered through the door, you tried your best to smile at him and act like you weren’t in the middle of a mental breakdown. 

Your act wasn’t convincing, your friend looked at you like you were about to tell him that you killed someone and you needed help to hide the body.

You would have never recur to a man other than Yoongi for this kind of situation, but you decided to trust your ten years of friendship with the man in front of you and hope that he could be of any help. 

“You are what?” Said Jungkook, standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes wide open, trying to understand the meaning of your words.

There, in your pajamas and your hands on your hips, you closed your eyes shut, sighing. “Jungkook…” You said through gritted teeth. 

“I’m serious.” He said, letting his backpack drop to the floor. “I crossed half the city to get here, are you not kidding me right now?”

“I’m serious, too!” You whined “I’m not kidding, I don’t know what to do.”

He slowly approached you, walking towards the couch to take a seat. He suddenly felt his blood pressure dropping, his stomach sinking and his mouth dry as if he was the one developing a human organism inside his body.  “Are you sure?” He murmured. “Are you not having one of those crises you had when you were a teenager? I remember that time in college when you freaked out when you thought you were pregnant because some guy-”

“Jungkook, I’m sure.” You interrupted him, already knowing the whole story, but this time it was not just you overreacting. “My period is late and I took three tests, all positive.” 

He gulped, letting the room fall silent for a few seconds as both of you contemplated what that meant. You knew he was trying his best not to freak out, so you were grateful for his reaction, at least he didn’t faint like you expected him to do, but he was still white as a sheet, trying to find a solution in his head as though you had told him he was the one who was going to be a father.

“What are we gonna do?” He said under his breath.

“What am I gonna do?” You corrected him, sitting next to him “You are supposed to help me.” 

Jungkook took one hard look at you, looking terrified. “How?”

“God, I shouldn’t have called you.” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, I mean, what do you want to do?” He said. “Did you tell Yoongi?”

“Of course not.” You replied, feeling your eyes getting teary, but still trying to hold back. 

“Do you want to… tell him?” He continued to ask. 

You sniffed “I mean, I don’t know how.” You pouted “I’m seeing him in two weeks, I don’t know if I can wait that long.” 

He threw himself back against the couch, sinking in the cushions. It was like Jungkook’s life flashed before his eyes, how come he was discussing this with you right now? He still felt like you were kids, there was no way you were pregnant right now. “How did this happen?” He murmured to himself, looking at the blank wall in front of him. 

“Is it necessary for me to explain it?” You cried, snuggling closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Did you not use condoms?” He scolded you like he was your mother. 

You shifted your weight uneasily, eyes darting down to your socks. “We don’t… use condoms.” You cleared your throat, the words coming out hushed and hesitant. “I’m on the pill, I don’t know what happened.”

On second thought, that wasn’t something Jungkook wanted to know. It was like finding out how his parents had sex, he squirmed at the thought, shifting in his place. “Can you not call your doctor?” He suggested, his voice laced with uncertainty.

You paused, considering it. It was probably the most logical thing Jungkook could say, but you weren’t sure if your doctor could do anything about it.

“Even if I call her and tell her what's going on, it’s not like I can get a refund.” You huffed, a dry smile tugging at your lips.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well…” he began, dragging the word out. “In some way, you could get a refund.” You blinked at him, opening your eyes wide in surprise. “I mean only if you want to!”

You were so nervous you wanted to laugh. It wasn’t like the thought  didn’t cross your mind for a moment, but only when you tried to evaluate your options; if you were being honest, you couldn’t see yourself getting rid of the baby—or whatever organism had been living rent-free in your body for the past three weeks. Jungkook looked terrified that you might explode at him, especially when it seemed like you were on the verge of tears, but his question made you think, if you didn’t want to get rid of it, what was that you wanted to do?

You sank your shoulders, feeling completely lost. “That’s the problem.” You murmured “I don’t know if I want a refund.” 

Jungkook stood still for a moment, his eyes softening as he watched you. His thoughts swirled, trying to grasp the weight of your words. 

"Would Yoongi want a refund?" He asked, his tone lighter than before, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. Despite the attempt at humor, his eyes betrayed the concern he was masking with the joke. 

A shaky exhale left your lips, the weight of uncertainty pulling you down. “I don’t know…” Was the only thing you could say. 

“But do you know if Yoongi wanted… kids?” He said as if that was a forbidden word. “I mean, do you want them?”

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what Yoongi wanted. You sighed, suddenly remembering all those times when the idea of a family came up in conversations, between drunken thoughts, before falling asleep, at dinner with his parents and on the ride home when he apologized on his mother’s behalf when she asked when you were going to give her grandchildren. His soft eyes, his hand on your tight and the view of the future laying in front of you like a promise. The thought warmed your heart for a moment, but the truth was that there was a difference between talking about it and actually having kids.

“We’ve talked about it…” You admitted. “But we’ve never planned it, let alone now that he’s on tour.” 

Jungkook hummed, still thinking. 

“But you both agreed to have kids at some point.” He affirmed, and you just nodded. 

It was in that moment where you realized you were crying again, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you stood in silence, contemplating the overwhelming weight of the situation. 

“Fuck, don’t cry.” Jungkook said, rushing to wrap his arms around you, he enveloped you in a tight hug. As soon as you buried your face into his chest, something inside you gave away. You began sobbing against his hoodie, the tears flowed freely and uncontrollable, unable to hold yourself back. “C’mon, it’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.” His voice was soft but firm, holding you tightly. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb gently wiping away a tear from your cheek, his gaze filled with nothing but concern. “You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. Let’s go step by step, okay?”

You nodded, feeling like a kid lost in the mall. “Okay, if you want to see him as soon as possible, you have to change your flight first.” He said, but you shook your head, trying not to panic. 

“He’s going to ask why.” You said, your voice hoarse “What am I going to tell him?”

He kept silent, his eyes fixed on a distant point as he was trying to come up with a solution. 

“Let’s not tell him.” He proposed.

“What do you mean let’s not tell him?”

“I’m leaving for tour next weekend, you should come with me and not tell him.” He kept going “Say that you missed him and you wanted to surprise him or some shit like that, and when you get him alone you talk to him about this.” 

Now you were reminded that Jungkook had to leave to join Yoongi on tour in just a few days, you completely forgot about that. It was not like you couldn’t get on an airplane alone, but if your friend was going to be there you were sure it would make things easier. 

You couldn’t believe it. After so many years you were there, sad and upset and still with the same idiot as a friend, willing to follow whatever plan he was going to make for you. You didn’t know if the plan actually sounded good or you were losing your mind for listening to Jungkook.

“Jungkook, Yoongi texts me all the time, he facetimes me everyday. It’s impossible to travel to another country without him noticing.”

“It’s not impossible, I’m gonna help you.” He insisted “If he texts you, you say you’re at home, if he wants to facetime you, you say you’re busy, turn off your location, it shouldn't be difficult.”

“It is difficult, what if he realizes I turned off my location?” You groaned, running your finger through your hair exasperatedly. 

“You say it stopped working or something! C’mon, I thought you were smarter than me.”

You threw yourself back against the couch, crossing your arms on your chest, it was almost comical that you were considering the idea. Your friend could sense the hesitation in every move you made, he could only hope that you agreed because his mind couldn’t come up with another idea if his life depended on it. 

“Jungkook, if he suspects anything…” You raised a finger, digging it on his chest. 

“He won’t suspect a thing,” He affirmed confidently. “When have any of my plans ever gone wrong? Never. Trust me, by the time you get back home, you’ll have already decided to name your baby after me.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your laugh and punching him in the arm playfully. The tension was still there, and you still felt an inexplicable ache in your chest that wasn’t going away anytime soon, but being there with Jungkook made you feel that this wasn’t the end of the world, nor of your life, but the beginning of it.  

Jungkook's plan wasn’t the master plan he had been bragging about the whole airplane ride, but it worked. A few days later, after a few calls and arrangements to change your flight, after another three mental breakdowns and several crying sessions in the shower, you had somehow arrived in Berlin without Yoongi suspecting a thing. You had managed to dodge facetime calls and weird questions, maybe Yoongi missed you so much that he didn’t have time to question why you couldn’t wait two more weeks to see him when you arrived at the hotel and hugged in the hall, because, if he were honest, he couldn’t wait two more weeks to see you either. 

Yoongi was happy with the surprise, you went to see his show that night and after arriving to his hotel room he made love to you like he hadn’t seen you in a year, kissing your neck, grabbing your waist, murmuring things in your ear, saying how much he loved you, how much he missed you. For a moment it was like nothing changed, the two of you sharing what happened these last three weeks tangled between sheets, laughing between kisses as you ignored why you were there in the first place. 

“You can’t keep spending time away from me.” He said, hovering over you as he left a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll keep you in my pocket if it’s necessary.” 

You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t keep this a secret for much longer, but for tonight, you’ll let it slide. 

You didn’t know when you were returning home, but you promised yourself that before leaving for the next city, you would have to break the news to Yoongi, which was becoming more difficult by the second, because if you were good at something, that was procrastinating. It was absurd, a few days ago you were crying because all you wanted to do was to have your boyfriend by your side and now you couldn’t even look him in the eye without feeling like you were about to throw up, and your mind wasn’t helping at all. All those doubts invaded your head, attempting to drive you crazy, making you believe you were not ready to tell him yet.

Three days later, when you finished the last show in Berlin, Jungkook gave you a knowing look as you were leaving the arena holding Yoongi’s hand. He knew that you haven’t said a thing to Yoongi yet, he was all over you like he was your mother, asking you if you were okay, if you needed anything, when you were going to tell Yoongi, it almost made you regret telling him, but you knew he was right. 

A night was all you needed, just one night to gather your thoughts and practice what you were going to say. You couldn’t keep declining glasses of wine forever,  you could only hope no one noticed how weird you were acting, how sensitive you were since you stepped foot out the plane. Time was running out; you knew that when Yoongi invited you to an after-party before the whole crew left Berlin. Instead of telling him the truth, you simply said you weren’t in the mood to go, hoping that your time alone would help to gather enough courage to confess.

You weren’t trying to keep Yoongi with you, you told him a million times that he should go without you and that there was no problem with it. You hid under the blanket and hugged your body, watching him change his shirt into a black tee. He ran his finger through his hair in an attempt to tame it, looking at himself into the mirror and stealing a glance towards your reflection. He knew you too well not to notice the sad expression on your face as you scrolled through your phone, searching for a Disney movie to watch while he was out. He turned around, approaching the bed and kneeling beside you to catch your eyes. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” He asked once again.

“Yeah, I just need one night.” You said, which was true. You needed a few more moments to finish fighting with your own thoughts. 

“But are you okay?” He continued to ask, cupping your jaw in his palm.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” The words came out of your mouth with more emotion than you intended to, he couldn’t ignore it. 

“I don’t know… You look like you want me to stay.”

There was a beat of silence in the room. The sweetness of his voice broke your heart into a million pieces. You couldn’t say yes and make him stay just because you were feeling down and you really had no problem with him leaving, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no either. You were full of contradictions, wanting to be alone but wanting to be with him at the same time, something in your chest pulled, wanting him close. 

“What makes you think that?” You murmured, fighting the urge to cry. God, you were too sensitive.

“Mmm… The Disney movie kinda gives you away.”

You huffled, playing with the fingers of his hands without looking at him. “I don’t want to ruin your fun… You should go, I mean it.”

He scoffed “You won’t, there’s going to be a bunch of parties until the tour ends, this one is nothing.”

“They’ll miss you…”

“You’ll miss me, too.”

“But do you want to stay, though?” You asked him a whisper. 

“Of course I want to… But you have to let me choose the movie.” He warned, automatically making you giggle.

Letting Yoongi choose the movie was the worst decision you have made in the last week so far, but you felt grateful he couldn’t see you as he hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, because as the ending of Inside Out approached, you were sure you were about to cry. 

When you arrived at the airport you promised yourself not to cry anymore, not in front of Yoongi at least, but your body was full of emotions you didn’t even know you could feel. It was certain that you’ve always been a sensitive person, you cried at the drop of a hat, Yoongi was familiar with that, but now it was impossible to stop it. 

You’d stopped paying attention to the screen entirely; one by one, your darkest thoughts crept in, pressing heavily on your chest. The feelings you’d tried so hard to bury rose up, churning uneasily in your stomach, and when you least expected it, tears began to fall down your cheeks.

A sob escaped from your lips at the same time the main character began to cry, making your boyfriend shift in his place. 

“Are you crying?” Yoongi suddenly asked, softly grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. He looked at your face, at first amused, thinking you were crying because of the movie. But his expression softened when he saw the sadness in your eyes and the damp lashes heavy with tears. You covered your face, unable to hold back, and the sobs came harder, each one swallowing the words you couldn’t say. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He reached for your arms, attempting to pull them away from your face, but you turned away, burying your face in the pillow.

“Nothing,” You lied, desperate to avoid this conversation again. “I’m just… emotional, I don’t know.” Your voice cracked, hoarse, as the emotions you were trying to hide slipped through.

Yoongi was confused, but mostly worried. You had been weird since the day you arrived, he would be a fool not to notice. 

He turned the light of the lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room with a soft orange light and turned the tv off. 

“Hey, look at me.” He softly said, brushing your hair with his fingers, it only made you want to cry harder. “I know something’s up, I’m not a dummy.” 

You turned to him, hitting him with the most heartbreaking sight he could witness, your face soaked in tears, nose and eyes red as you pouted at him. What was so wrong to make you cry like that?

“What do you know?” Was the only thing you could say, daring to be upset at him when he hadn't done anything wrong. 

He frowned at your tone. “Well, I know that you suddenly came here two weeks earlier just because. You are weird, you almost don’t eat, your suitcase is almost untouched like you’re going to leave anytime soon, you look… sad? I don’t know, baby, you tell me.”

You kept silent for a second, wiping the tears with the sleeve of your t-shirt. Uncomfortable, you sat in the bed, taking a deep breath as your mind completely blanked. You didn’t realize yet, but there was no way to get out of this one.

Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend was kind of a dummy. You confirmed it when he decided to say the following words. 

“Is it because of Lily?” He said, making you dart your eyes at him. “You don’t like her being here? 

You couldn’t blame Yoongi for not understanding why you were crying, but the suggestion that you were jealous of one of his coworkers made you want to punch him. Lily was one of the new producers at Yoongi’s label, and a few months ago, Yoongi had noticed that you were starting to feel uneasy about the amount of time she was spending with him, which led him to realize that you were beginning to feel unexpectedly jealous of her. Yes, that was a whole deal back then, but it was water under the bridge now; the fact that she was touring with him and the boys didn’t faze you. The idea that he thought you were crying because of her was ridiculous. 

“Yoongi, are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not.” He defended himself. “The last time I saw you we were fine, but now you’re here crying and I don’t have a clue what I did wrong.”

Suddenly, you felt your heart sink. He hadn’t done anything wrong; it was you who was an emotional wreck, struggling to keep your feelings in check. A wave of guilt washed over you for the mess you’d just created, convinced there must have been ways to prevent all this conflict. But now, all you could do was sit there, tangled in the aftermath of your own emotions.

You sighed, defeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You said “And it’s not about Lily, I couldn’t care less about that… It’s just that- … Yoongi…”

“Baby…” He said in the same tone as you, “What is it?”

As Yoongi’s gentle question hung in the air, you felt a knot tighten in your chest. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, you glanced away, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, buying time as your thoughts spiraled. “Yoongi, my period is late.” You confessed, observing Yoongi’s eyes go wide, his brows lifting in surprise as he tried to understand what he just heard. “It’s been a week now, I don’t know what happened. I tried to wait, but I had to take a test”

 “A test?” he asked, voice low, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“A pregnancy test, Yoongi.” You said, trying not to roll your eyes. “I took three damn tests.”

“And what-... what happened?” He asked, his voice unsteady, eyes fixed on yours.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken fears and questions. A quiet stillness settled between you both, there was a weight to the silence, stretching out the seconds as you waited for whatever words would come next.

“I mean, guess what happened,” you whispered. Before you could finish the sentence, you got up and reached for the zipper on your suitcase pocket. Your hand closed around the large object, and you felt his eyes on the back of your neck, following you as you moved around the hotel room. Returning to the bed, you sat down and handed him the pregnancy test.

Yoongi didn’t know anything about pregnancy tests—he’d never needed to. He’d always been careful, using protection with every girl he’d been with, including you, until things had started to get serious. So no, he wasn’t familiar with the variety of pregnancy tests out there. But now, here he was, staring at a white stick with a tiny screen, showing a clear positive sign, which could only mean one thing.

Yoongi’s hands trembled slightly as he held the pregnancy test, his gaze locked onto the tiny screen, staring at it for a moment, speechless. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough that he thought you might hear it. Now everything made sense, how you said you were nauseous in the morning, each time you refused to drink wine, how you looked like you were about to cry when you saw a stroller with twins this afternoon at the park. How could he not notice?

You pressed your lips together, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up once more. A small, shaky hiccup escaped your lips, breaking the silence and snapping him out of his daze. “No, no, no,” He murmured urgently, setting the test aside and pulling you close, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the tears. “Hey, there’s no reason to cry,” He whispered, gently guiding your face up, his fingers lifting your chin as he coaxed your hands away. “C’mon, look at me.” His voice was soft, reassuring, his gaze full of warmth and understanding.

“I don’t know how it happened.” You blurted out, your voice shaking with uncertainty.

“That doesn’t matter now, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, you could tell he was trying to remain calm by the soft tone of his voice, but his face had gone as white as paper, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“I arranged the flight to see you as soon as possible, but... I was scared. I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t,” you admitted, your words barely a whisper.

“Baby, you don’t have to be scared, okay? You can tell me anything.” He assured you, his hand gently squeezing yours. But the uneasy feeling in your stomach refused to go away.

“I know, but… we haven’t planned for this,” you murmured, glancing down. “It just… came out of nowhere.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. These things can happen,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You groaned, burying your face in his chest.

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen,” you whined, your voice muffled against him. “I didn’t expect this at all. I was drowning in work when I found out. I’m stressed, I’m lost, I don’t know what to do… and I miss my mom.” The words tumbled out in a frantic ramble, and you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the soft laugh he let slip.

“You miss your mom?” he asked softly, careful not to upset you further.

“Yes!” you cried, voice cracking. “I feel like a kid lost in the supermarket.”

He shook his head gently and brushed away your tears with his thumbs, pulling you closer. “Baby…” he began, his tone soothing.

“Yoongi…” you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His expression was still worried, but the warmth in his eyes was reassuring.

“You’re right, we didn’t plan this. But we’ve talked about it before, and you have options. Whatever you choose, I’ll be right here beside you, no matter what. You know that, don’t you?” He searched your eyes for confirmation, and you nodded, feeling the ache in your chest begin to ease.

As his words sank in, a new wave of emotions stirred inside you. The weight of worry and loneliness began to ease, replaced by a warmth that softened the ache in your chest.

“But… what do you think?” you asked softly. You knew that whatever you decided would ultimately be your choice only, but you needed to know what was going on in his mind.

He sighed, a hint of hesitation in his expression. “I mean… we’re not sixteen, baby. We’re adults, we’re about to buy a house together, and we love each other.”

“Well, those are just facts,” you replied, searching his face. “What I mean is… do you want this, now?”

It was hard for Yoongi to believe you were really asking this. There you were, sitting on his lap with swollen eyes and a red nose from crying, asking him if he wanted to start a family with you—as if that hadn’t been his dream all along. Of course he felt like the life he had been living was going to completely change from now on. It was terrifying, but he couldn’t help but feel excited at the same time. 

“I've always wanted it, are you serious?” He laughed, the sound light but filled with disbelief. “And I only want it with you, haven’t I made it clear enough?”

Those were the main differences between the two of you: while he was calm, always taking a moment to think before acting, you were emotional and, more often than not, let your feelings take control of your actions. It was only in that moment that you realized how irrational you’d been. There wasn’t a world where Yoongi didn’t want this, and there certainly wasn’t a world where you didn’t want it either.

“I want it, too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

“Then why are you crying, huh?” he asked gently, squeezing your face in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Because...” you said, struggling to catch your breath. “Maybe you didn’t think it was the right time... You’re on tour right now.”

He frowned, his expression softening with concern. “I won’t be on tour forever...”

“I know, but... we’re not married. What would your parents think?”

He let out a laugh, clearly unable to believe that was a real concern of yours. “You’re not seriously thinking about my parents right now, are you?”

“How could I not?” you said, raising your eyebrows. “What if they force us to marry? God, I don’t want to be one of those couples who only marry because the girl is suddenly pregnant!”

He laughed even harder, shaking his head. “Oh my god, baby, no one’s forcing us to do anything!” He grinned, clearly finding your worry amusing. “If we ever get married, it won’t be because anyone pressured me. Trust me.” He paused, happy to see that the worried expression abandoned your face. “Besides, my parents love you, you have no idea how happy they’ll be once they know. Married or not.”

“Yoongi, it can’t be that simple.” 

“But it is.”

You sighed, feeling like all the mess you’d made was for nothing—and thank God it was. You’d been so caught up in your own despair that you hadn’t realized everything in your life was falling into place for this to happen. Yoongi was right. You were about to move into a bigger home, you had your job, Yoongi had his, and you loved each other. You've always wanted it, this was the perfect moment for this to happen. Why had you been so worried? 

“You’re right, it is.” You finally admitted, letting your body rest against him. 

Yoongi laughed, gently grabbing you by your hips and laying you on the bed, kissing you softly. “You don’t have to worry, baby, not with me.”

“I know.” You breathed out, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “But I am-… I’m so scared. How am I gonna have a baby? It sounds crazy.”

“Of course it does, it is.” He said “I’m terrified, too, but we’re together, right? Nothing bad can happen if we have each other.”

You nodded, feeling your chest unclench. “I guess you're right,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just... needed to hear you say it.”

Yoongi smiled, leaning down to steal another kiss from you, this time deeper, longer. “I love you, baby, don’t you know that?”

You brushed your nose against his, nodding. “I love you, too, bubba.”

“C’mon, baby, stop crying.” He said, making you laugh. 

[just-some-brainrot]

warriors: what’s something that isn’t suspicious unless you’re really good at it?

sky: sneaking into other people’s bedrooms and staying there then leaving the next morning without saying anything

wild: hey i was about to say the same thing!

warriors: …by sneaking into another person’s bedroom do you mean that in a “we live together and i’m just annoying them” sort of way or in a “illegally trespassing on private property” sort of way

wild & sky: ….uh

warriors: oh no

[hungharrington]

okay what are ur thoughts on challenging steve to edge himself everyday for no nut november 🫣 do you think he would make it through the entire month????

okay this turned into a whole rambling thought fic ??? a whole 3k of it?? this is hella unedited cos i'm running out the door so i'll be back to check for mistakes but enjoy some sub!steve & some sorta mean!reader, definitely a hint of a humiliation & exhibitionism kink so beware if that isn't your thing! enjoy u horny bastards MDNI this entire blog is 18+

the whole thing comes about because of a playful bicker.

it’s starts with talking about how long you’ve gone without sex— with steve insisting his dry spell before you two started fooling around was way longer and more difficult than yours.

and you had laughed and teased, cooing about how he could absolutely not make it through an entire week without cumming like you did for a whole month— while he insists the opposite is true.

and steve is nothing if not a competitive bastard who loves to try prove people wrong. so you challenge him to last the whole month — no cumming, no nothing.

but you don’t say no touching. and steve, poor, oblivious to the consequences he’s going to feel very soon, figures there’s no harm in giving in to his morning wood, rutting against his sheets with these quiet grunts until he gets bored and rolls out of bed. it’s something he’s done before and his hard-on goes down in the shower like usual & he goes to work far too smug, feeling so confident and ready to brag when he sees you.

you come into family video middle of the day and steve delights, ready to demolish the challenge you’ve set, bragging about his easy morning and his killer restraint.

your eyebrows raise and you look pleasantly surprised — not miffed, like steve hoped you would — and you offer to raise the stakes. leaning over one of the shelves as he works idly, you change the rules a bit… and set a prize if he’s to complete your challenge.

“if you go the whole month, no cumming, i’ll let you fuck me,” you hum, a wicked smile on your mouth at the way steve straightens up. you’ve been fooling around, tucking your hands into each others pants like horny teenagers but you haven’t actually slept together yet. “anywhere you want, any way you want,”

and steve is smarter than he looks, even as you can see this lust glazing over his eyes— options, so many options pour into his mind.

you in his car, in his lap, riding him and making those nice pitiful noises you do. you in his bed, beneath him, head thrown back in his sheets as you cry out. you, against the wall behind the family video, hidden away but only just, moaning into his hand as you try to keep quiet while you fall apart on his cock.

his cock begins to thicken in his pants just at the thought & steve shifts his weight.

“what’s the catch?” he asks.

“to make your challenge more difficult, you have to touch yourself every day of the month.”

“touch myself?”

“mhm,” you nod, eyes darting down to his bulge. your wicked grin grows at the sight of it growing in his jeans. “properly. not just a little touch, a proper jerk off. how long’s it take you to get hot and bothered? let’s say 5 minutes of stroking, each and every day.”

you’ve got this look in your face like you don’t think he can do it — so of course, steve takes the bait.

“easy.” he snips back, eyes narrowing. “hope you’ll spend the month getting prepared to take it. after a whole month of nothing? can’t promise i’ll be too gentle.”

your smile turns almost feline.

and so it begins. the first few days sail by, steve easily using his mornings in bed to stroke his cock idly, feeling his desire swell and then letting it swirl down the drain in a shower that gets colder every day. after the fifth day, steve has to admit it’s not nice — he can feel his mounting urge to cum building up but it’s not terrible. it’s certainly ignorable. he’s got this in the bag.

another five days pass— but now, he’s waking up aching hard. it takes longer now in the shower to get his hard-on to flag and worse when steve realises he has to still jerk off to win your challenge. his hand feels so much softer than usual and his keyed up lust springs to the surface to moment he starts to stroke himself— steve groans lowly, pressing his head against the tiles and tries go think of unpleasant things.

he fucks up on day 13.

his alarm goes off late and his dream had been lewd and vulgar, an endless loop of sinking his fat cock into you and envisioning how wet and warm you’d be around him. his cock is throbbing when he drags himself out of sleep and he realises he’s been humping against the mattress in his sleep.

the cold shower helps, barely. shivering beneath the icy spray, steve stares at his thickened cock and groans— knowing if he wraps his hand around it now and fucks his fist, he’ll cum in a minute.

so he leaves it and goes to work, wound up enough to snap at robin and then apologise 20 minutes later. you come into his work again, having been absent for the last couple of days, and it’s like you can smell it on him.

“hard morning?” you smirk at him.

“fuck off,” he growls, shoving a vcr back onto one of the shelves. then he looks back at you. “i’m still winning your stupid challenge by the way.”

“uh huh,” you say, not believing him at all. “how’s it’s been going? fucking your cock but never getting finish?”

even your words have an effect on him. steve feels his body flush, his dick strain in his pants, his gut churning with heat. he stiffens up and scrambles to think of a reply — but you’re already laughing.

“oh man, we’re not even halfway through the month and i think you could blow in your pants right here.” you muse teasingly. steve grips the shelf tighter and shakes over the fluster you have on him.

“i have more self restraint than that,” he snips back. the flush passes and he resumes his task, flashing you a quick glare.

you nod and hum again, like you don’t believe a thing he’s a saying, and then he’s watching you head out the door again.

the moment steve realises he’s fucked up is when he’s getting into bed. his cock is, thankfully, not hard — even if there is this persistent tug from his balls that never seems to leave. but he hasn’t stroked himself at all today.

painstakingly, he begins to — soft, gentle strokes over his cock, hoping, praying he can get five minutes in without working himself up too bad. it’s futile because it only takes about twenty seconds behind his cock is twitching in his hand, growing heavier, the head of it beginning to dribble pre-cum and steve moans in anguish into his pillow.

he stares at his alarm clock and strokes slowly, so slowly, having to stop every couple of seconds until finally five minutes passes. steve sighs and releases his cock which twitches in response, the head giving a sad spurt of pre-cum. he’s so keyed up he can’t possibly sleep. his cock is so hard it’s throbbing.

as he pulls his boxers up and buries himself under the duvet, but every touch is too stimulating, his skin on fire with how the urge to cum itches beneath it. he ends up having a very cold shoulder at 3am and his cock never fully softens.

it’s brutal from there on out. from day 14 onwards, his cock remains in this permanent state of aching, always half thickened and ready to go the moment it gets some stimulation. which turns out, is far easier to get now— jeans on the tighter side, the right seat, even the rumble of his car beneath him are enough to have steve swearing and pushing at his crotch, willing it to go down.

that’s how you find him on day 20, five minutes late for his shift because he’s staring down at his tented jeans and trying to think of anything to make it go away. your tap on his window makes him startle, seizing in his seat before he realises it’s probably the only person who’s expecting to see him with a boner in public.

“hard morning?” you joke again, this time pointing at his obvious bulge.

steve glares at you. “you already made that joke.”

“and you didn’t appreciate it the first time!” you say back cheerily. you round the front of his car and open the door, plopping yourself in the passenger seat like you own it.

“what are you doing?” steve asks, going to cross his arms but feeling terribly exposed. he settles for covering his groin, muscles twitching at the slight stimulation the weight of his hands does. his hips twitch forward.

“i’ve got a proposition for you,” you say.

steve shakes his head instantly. “nope, no way.”

you laugh at his quick insistence. “wait listen! i think you will want to consider it, okay?”

you pause and when steve doesn’t say anything more, just eyes you warily, you continue.

“i will knock off five whole days off your challenge,” you hold up your hand, fingers splayed out to indicate the number. your mischievous eyes make steve worry. even if five days off makes his challenge that much easier.

“if you do your five minutes today right now.”

steve blinks. his chest flushes hot at your proposal as it sinks in— here, in the parking lot in front of his work, you want him to jerk off for five whole minutes?

“what? right here?” the question bursts out of him.

it’s not busy out in the least. even in the store, steve hasn’t even seen keith walking about or any customers milling around. he knows keith won’t come outside to fetch him and he’s the only car in the parking lot, besides one another that parked down the other end.

“five minutes for five days off,” you say, twiddling your fingers with a wicked smile.

steve considers it, even though he can already feel his cock growing harder beneath his hands. he groans and throws his head back against the headrest. was he really about to do this?

he looks at the time and then starts to undo the button of his jeans. fuck, guess he was.

he steals a glance at you as he pulls down his zipper and tugs his jeans down a couple inches to expose his boxers. the mischief from your smile has faded, a hunger taking its place. steve averts his eyes, far too aware of how his cock twitches in his boxer at your attention.

he slips a hand into his boxers and curls it around his hard cock. a keening noise pulls from his throat and steve blushes scarlet— all his little noises as he’s spiraled into this lustful denial haven’t had an audience until right now.

he shifts his hand up, a slow stroke, but you’re quickly reaching out to grab his wrist, halting to movement. steve opens his eyes, not sure when they had closed, and makes a noise of confusion.

you grin deviously. “wait,” you point to the clock on the dash. “you can go when the minute changes, big boy.”

steve’s hips jump forward at your words, both the name and your denial. he groans before he can help it, his eyes trained intently on the dash. in his hand, his cock leaks pitifully, a wet spot beginning to stain through his boxers.

humiliatingly, you notice it too. “aw, you’re making a mess and you haven’t even started.”

“stop,” steve murmurs, aiming for stern but failing pathetically. the word comes out as a whine. his cheeks glow fiery hot.

you laugh and then tap his wrist— the minute having flicked over just a second ago.

steve starts his stroking, slow and easy, his eyes slipping closed. five minutes, he can do five minutes of jerking off. even if he was suddenly keenly aware of your watchful gaze, of the window beside him, of the pure exposure of the situation.

“that’s not jerking,” you huff disapprovingly. steve’s eyes crinkle open, his mouth already hung open as he pants softly. his hand does another pass over his cock and he smothers a moan into the palm of his hand.

“go faster or it won’t count.” you say wickedly and steve whimpers, his hand obeying without thought. with the way he’s leaking all over himself, it only takes a couple long strokes before he’s making lewd, wet noises as he fucks into his hand.

it shouldn’t be as hot as it is — rubbing his own cock while you watch, eyes darting between his moving hand and his flushed face. steve can hear himself making little noises with every exhale, tiny little whines as he burns up. the coil in his tummy tightens unexpectedly.

“f-fuck-!” he stops his hand completely, gripping the steering wheel with the other as he feels his orgasm swell. it grows closer, so near to tipping over that steve can’t control his hips as they keep moving, rutting into the air frantically, into nothing, as they try to get him over the edge.

it takes another thirty seconds for his breath to catch and steve to settle down enough to not cum immediately. he quivers in his seat. his eyes flutter open to look at you.

“that was really cute,” you muse, eyes almost feline, dragging up and down his body, slow as trickling honey. steve feels his cock twitch at your words, flushing hotly when your eyes dart to his boxers and definitely notice.

“not five minutes though,” you say with teasing tilt in your voice. you point to the clock on the dash. “i think that was… 1 whole minute?”

despite how he tries to stop it, steve can’t help the pathetic noise he makes in response. he wants to be able to finish this stupid fucking challenge you’ve set, wants to prove himself, wants to be good.

he starts moving his hand again before he can consider how bad of an idea it is. he should just say no and do the next ten days. but it’s wet and warm in his hand, the tip of his cock so drippy that he can pretend his hand is yours. you seem pleasantly surprised to see him going again so soon, your lids low as you watch him closely.

“are you normally this loud?”

steve knows you mean the slick noises coming from the way he’s fucking into his hand. he tries to huff but it comes out as a quiet moan and his face flushes hotter again.

he shakes his head instead, his hair scraping against the headrest. god, his neck is burning up. he’s pretty sure he’s never been harder in his life — but fuck, he can’t stop now.

“how- how ma- many minutes?” the words strain to get out, wrapped in his arousal. his nipples peak hard in his shirt, the friction only adding to his pleasure.

at some point, his hand stopped moving all together and his hips started doing all the work. steve presses against the drivers seat, hips lifting off and bucking into his hand and— shit, it’s too much, the sticky boxers are gonna make him cum if he rubs against them one more time.

in haste, he shoves them down his thighs, exposing his cock to you and anyone who deigns to take a peek in his window. something churns in his gut and steve screws his eyes up, willing himself not to cum yet. so close, he’s so close.

“just one more,” you say, suddenly sounding more breathy than before. steve’s eyes snap open, darting over to look at your face — but you’re fixated on his crotch, watching with a hungry expression.

your eyes lift to his face. another devious smile. steve whines. so close, he’s so fucking close, so close he can taste it. he can win, he can do it.

“steve,” you say softly, reaching out to nudge his chin in your direction. he wasn’t aware of when his eyes slipped shut again but your staring him in the face all lovingly, all wickedly and steve wills his orgasm down. another minute, another fucking minute, he can wait, he’s so close he’s— “cum,” you command.

steve does. white hot flashes through his body as he tips over the edge, ecstasy washing over every sense, stronger than he's ever felt before. his cock kicks up in his hand and a whorish moan drags out of his throat as he paints the steering wheel with ropes of cum.

for a minute, steve doesn't give a fuck if he's just lost— he just cares about how fucking good it feels to fuck his fist, to feel every pass over his slit all the way through his body. he whines and whimpers as the feeling tapers off, his hips finally settling down into the seat.

the mortification of what he's done begins to set it, like the drizzles of cum drying on his steering wheel. he can't stop panting, can't think of single word to say, his lips opening and closing as he tries to recover from the best orgasm of his life.

he hears the car door open and it shoots him into gear, stuffing himself back into his sticky boxers, a shiver going down his spine at how unpleasant it feels. oh fuck, and he's got a whole shift ahead of him.

you're still hovering, one hand on the open car door, leaned down and watching him frantically try to recover— all with that damned wicked smile on your face.

you rap your knuckles on the roof of the car. "damn. better luck next month, right harrington?"

you don't sound sorry at all. steve watches you close the door and leave, weaving between the stores and out of sight as his cock softens and his boxers grow colder. he screws his eyes up and smacks his head back against the headrest.

he's so fucking screwed.

[formulawolff]

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.” 

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure. 

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake! 

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.” 

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo. 

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.” 

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will. 

“where is dad? is he asleep?” 

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan? 

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?” 

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers? 

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.” 

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel. 

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.” 

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks. 

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.” 

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you. 

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent. 

fuck, were you homesick. 

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time. 

you always did when it came to your parents. 

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion. 

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen. 

you had to make that happen. 

you had to. 

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top. 

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home. 

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home. 

this man was billionaire, after all. 

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text. 

from none other than toto wolff. 

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door. 

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter. 

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you. 

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival) 

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers. 

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race. 

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair.. 

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind. 

a crisp knock rang out, startling you. 

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting. 

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy. 

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull. 

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears. 

this was really happening. 

you were really staying with toto. 

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.” 

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness. 

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries. 

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual. 

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows. 

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up. 

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest. 

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?” 

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll. 

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?” 

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.  

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold. 

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay. 

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you. 

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there. 

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back. 

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind. 

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole. 

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress. 

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back. 

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you? 

downright filthy. sinful, even 

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on. 

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread. 

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him. 

god, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark. 

you were so fucking beautiful. 

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come. 

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

could this moment last forever? 

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god. 

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure. 

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you. 

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words. 

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you. 

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through. 

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching. 

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia. 

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth. 

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two. 

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god. 

oh, fuck. 

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space. 

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure. 

you unravel, coming undone. 

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out. 

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple. 

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent. 

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks. 

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.” 

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring. 

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.” 

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot. 

well, not so little these days. 

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?” 

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat. 

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears. 

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision. 

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts. 

“i’m right, aren’t i?” 

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head. 

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?” 

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings? 

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper. 

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm. 

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?” 

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished. 

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision. 

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision. 

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

you were finally going to be by his side every day. 

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel. 

he had you. 

you were all his now. 

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[strangersteddierthings]

Good People - Final Part

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.

Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.

And how could Wayne expect him to?

No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.

Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.

He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.

In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.

Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.

But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.

Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.

Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.

He's going to fix this.

He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.

When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.

There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.

Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.

Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.

Eddie's van remains gone.

Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.

Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.

It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."

"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."

He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.

He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.

Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.

The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.

He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.

When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.

Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.

"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."

Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."

"I could have."

They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"

Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.

Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.

Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).

"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.

"Oh, I can fix it-"

"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."

"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.

He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."

Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."

"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"

"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."

It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.

"Yeah. I get it."

He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."

"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."

It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."

Steve frowns at him. "Why?"

Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."

Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."

"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.

"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"

Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."

"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."

Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."

Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."

"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.

Steve throws his head back and laughs.

They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.

Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.

Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.

"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.

He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.

Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.

He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."

Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."

Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."

They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."

"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."

Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.

"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.

Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.

"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.

"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"

"No," says Eddie.

"No," says Wayne, at the same time.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"

Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.

Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.

By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.

Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.

I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette

[drysdalesworld]

them with a highly energetic child

headcanons of the boys with a highly energetic child (& x fem!reader)

the boys who have a highly energetic daughter:

QUINN HUGHES

— poor man’s trying his best fr. his patience is always tested with his daughter

— he’s always tired before the day ends due to how energetic she is but he doesn’t complain as he tries to soak up as much time as he can with her as he’s usually gone due to hockey

— poor dude gets all blushy & awkward whenever she waved to strangers & talks to them. quinn mumbles an apology to them before whisking her away, telling her how careful she needs to be to those she does not know as some people aren’t that friendly

— loves loves seeing his wife/reader interact with their daughter. she looks so much like you

— ^ like she got all of your good qualities & he’s just in awe every time he sees the reader & their daughter interact. nearly brings him to tears every time

— accidentally falls asleep sometimes during playtime but his little girl honestly doesn’t mind! she always ends up joining him & reader finds them both passed out on the couch, cuddled together

— baby girl is NOT afraid to speak her mind so she always ends up saying lovely things to the tv or the refs during quinns games. very passionate about the game & her fathers safety on the ice

NICO HISCHIER

— he’s able to switch from being soft & gentle to highly energetic within seconds

— his face always lights up when he sees her it’s the sweetest thing ever

— loves picking her up in his arms & just kinda tossle her around as he knows she loves it. her high shrieked giggles is what always wakes you up in the morning

— is quite literally the only person that’s able to calm her down enough to get her ready in the morning. does her hair & gets her dressed for you before he has to leave for morning skate

— also got her a backpack leash. it’s a pink poodle & she ALWAYS has that thing on (she loves bolting)

— the devils absolutely love her & nico always ask if she can tag along for a practice & the answer is always yes

— nico wanted to put her in dance bc he secretly wants to be that dad that dances with his daughter on the stage for her first recital

— makes “parkour” obstacles for her during playtime to get her energy out

— randomly throws her over his shoulder sometimes & just runs around the house

— he always asks if the three of you could take his pregame nap with him just so he could have the reader & his daughter close to him before he has to leave

— he goes all out on halloween & all three of you have matching costumes. your daughter is so excited about it that she can’t shut up about it

KIRBY DACH

— he’s such a gentle giant w/ her & lets her climb him like a monkey without complaint

— ^ eventually he’ll take her into his arms & just dangle her by her legs & gently shake her as she laughs or blow raspberries into her stomach/neck

— she always runs through or around his legs so he’s always on the lookout for her whenever he’s home just so he doesn’t topple over her on accident

— he skates up to the glass wherever you two are sitting & puts his hand + forehead on it. she copies him before smacking the glass, letting him skate off before blowing reader & their daughter a kiss

— likes to take her wherever he goes, especially if it’s a new city she hasn’t been to yet while they’re traveling ( & when they’re allowed to attend the away game). he likes showing her his favorite places & her face is so cute when she sees all the pretty lights

— dances with her while the both of you make breakfast, lunch, or dinner. sometimes throws her up in the air & catches her

— they both have matching bracelets that she made. he never takes it off

— likes to take her energy out through painting/arts & crafts. she likes to get messy so she’ll be covered in paint with a gummy smile. kirby joins in at times so both of them are covered in paint (there’s too many pictures on your instagram of the two of them like that lol)

— she literally gets whatever she wants w/ just one look & kirby’s already putty & taking out his card 😭

JAMIE DRYSDALE

— poor man is a struggling first time father & having a highly energetic child on top of that as an extreme introvert is something he’s working on

— he absolutely loves her to death don’t get him wrong but there’s a reason why everyone chirps him for being so shy & quiet

— whenever he’s home, she demands for jamie to play w/ her & he’s immediately following her into the corner of the living room where all of her toys are

— always playing tea time with her & he loves loves it

— he’s always tired after playing with her & he gets tired super easily but he’s def getting better at it!

— jamie’s managed to convince his daughter that she needs naps throughout the day to maintain her energy & to play so she always has him whisk her off for naps. he gently tucks her in & lightly sings her a lullaby to sleep (something he does during bedtime too). these are probably the only times reader & jamie has some peace & quiet so they definitely take advantage of it by relaxing or catching up

— is so gentle with her when he brings her along for morning skate. the entire team is, they adore her fr

— when he gets traded, he was a bit nervous to introduce her to the flyers but baby girl was so excited she practically wiggled out of his arms & introduced herself to every one on the team. he could only sit back & admire how friendly his child was

— super proud & thankful to have a child who is a splitting image of reader. he loves reader so much that he’s glad their daughter looks just like her. like, you both made that person? he feels like the luckiest man on earth

— doesn’t hesitate to let trevor babysit (when he’s proven himself worthy lol). trevor is ever more energetic than his daughter so she’s always passed out in her bed when jamie & his love get back from their date

COLE CAUFIELD

— his daughter may look like reader but she’s 100% coles kid with her attitude & personality

— literally bolts anytime she gets. she thinks it’s a game & always giggles when cole or you chase her around the house trying to catch her

— she climbs cole like a tree. climbs anything like a tree really

— the only time she is calm is when reader reads her a bedtime story. baby girl is literally silent as she grips onto every word you speak to her. it’s kinda eerie to see her like this as she usually speaks hundred miles per hour to you & cole

— cole always takes her to morning skate with him when granted permission. he slaps some skates on her & she immediately takes off. she’s not super well balanced on skates yet but she still has so much fun nonetheless. more often than not, she falls asleep in the car on the ride home

— cole attempts to dress her most days but it always ends up in a disaster as she most likely will look like she herself dressed herself lol

— always gets her a piece of jewelry for her birthdays. it was his signature with reader & now it’s also his tradition/signature with their daughter as well. it was usually small things when she was little & then he began to get her things like necklaces or rings when she got older & could keep more track of them

— holds her at any chance he gets

the boys who have a highly energetic son:

JACK HUGHES

— is 100% delighted to have a son that is literally a splitting image of himself

— ^ they’re partners in crime fr

— always takes him places during roadies when reader & their son join him. he loves showing him all of the places he’s visited & getting him cute little souvenirs for memory’s sake

— neither of them know how or when to shut the fuck up sometimes

— jack signed him up for hockey lessons when he was super young & started to show signs of being highly energetic but reader pushed back a bit bc she wanted their son to explore other sports than just hockey

— ^ he was a little heart broken when he found out you signed him up for soccer & that your son seemed more interested in that than hockey but little dude is such a menace on the field just like his dad so he can’t really complain about that

— poor reader is always tired out by both of her boys that they always catch her asleep on the couch or in their bed. the two join her in her naps & it’s one of the rare & peaceful moments they have where jack & his son are willingly quiet & calm as they join reader in her slumber

— he always makes new friends wherever he goes & always has a great time no matter the weather

— reader & jack’s son is so much like his father in the way that he’s protective over his mother & respects her

— ^ once at jack’s games, their son had noticed some rando trying to pick up on reader & boy was he having none of it. their little boy glared at the stranger & pulled reader closer to him before saying “my mommy” & shooing the dude away. jack literally high fived his son once he was told the story from reader (“that’s my little man! good job buddy!”)

— the summers at the lake house are always interesting. jack loves scaring the shit of you by holding your son in his arms as he wake boards. reader yells at him to not drop their son & has a heart attack when he “pretends” to drop him only to tighten his grip on their boys body. the two of them always go off & have their own fun during the summer while the reader enjoys her break talking & laughing w/ ellen

— jack puts your son to bed by 8pm bc he’s always hella tired by that time due to how much he’s running around & playing w/ his dad

LUKE HUGHES

— everyone should be concerned for this man bc his child does not give a single fuck

— ^ his son always wakes up in the wee hours of the morning just to run around & play. it’s lukes job to wrangle him back into bed

— luke bought his son a backpack leash so he doesn’t go running off when something else catches his attention (it’s a monkey one too)

— always has time for his son though so he’ll literally drop ANYTHING just for him

— is the one to put him to bed & read him a bedtime story. you always catch luke fast asleep on your sons tiny bed, his hand unconsciously rubbing the boys small back

— luke may not be the first person to wake up in the morning but he’s usually the one to keep your son busy while the reader makes breakfast or takes care of herself in the morning

— sometimes he just tossles him & carries him like a bag (yknow those tiktoks where they carry their kids by their jackets when they don’t want to walk) & he absolutely loves it. his son giggled so loudly as he just hangs or is getting thrown on the couch pillows

— during the summer, your son tends to burn more than you or luke so luke kind of goes overboard on the sunscreen & makes sure that he has a rash guard on for extra protection. puts a towel over him too on the boat if luke notices that his son is even a little red

— ^ throws his son into the lake all the time. he always asks for it too, practically climbing up luke as he begs for him to throw him into the water. his giggles always bring a smile to both of your faces as he shouts “again! again!”

— luke likes to gather the both of you into his arms & guide you guys into bed for his pregame naps. it’s usually luke, your son, & then you all cuddled together but sometimes it’s luke spooning you while you hold your son. it’s a cute sight

TREVOR ZEGRAS

— off the walls ecstatic to have a son that can match his energy

— this man is so happy to have a mini him it’s crazy

— loves running around with his & creating games for him to play

— def gets him into sports very early on & not just hockey. trev signs him up for soccer, basketball, baseball, golf, etc.

— he also sometimes just carries him or dangle him by his legs to “shake” out all the energy his son has before bedtime. it’s something that his parents used to do to him when he was younger & it seemed to work & help him so now he does it to his son too

— loves to post on his instagram story about their play times & adventures. it’s so sickeningly cute

— if his son were to scream out of nowhere randomly, then so will trevor. if his son just gets up & starts running out of nowhere, trevor will follow right after

— these two love to have cereal for dinner all the time it actually upsets reader sometimes lol

— you three are obviously invited to the lake house during the summertime by the hughes family & it’s always such a blast for trev & his son

— ^ yknow the picture of chris hemsworth w/ one of his children? the one where he has them by their feet at the beach? yeah that gives me major trevor vibes w/ his son at the lake house

— ^^ your son does not burn at all. he only tans, just like his father. but trevor still makes sure to put sunscreen on him just to be sure

LUCA FANTILLI

— also off the walls ecstatic to have a kid just like him

— his son looks & acts just like him (praying for reader)

— the entire umich team loves your son so often not, luca always brings him to practices, games, & other team related events

— he always informs either you or luca whenever he needs to get his “jitters” out. so when he gets the green light, he always just ends up violently shaking or running in circles around luca

— uncle adam is definitely his favorite person but dude purposely gets his brothers son all riled up just for the fun of it & it’s something you always scold adam for

— luca always deals with his son whenever he’s overstimulated or reader needs a break & he’s always happy to do so

— he’s the one to wake up your son in order to let you sleep in. luca holds him close to his chest & squeezes him tight before gently “shaking” out his morning jitters. they then have a race to the kitchen where luca gets started on breakfast

— ^ always gets him dressed too. he lets his kid choose his own clothing of choice for the day & always tells him how handsome he is, no matter how weird the outfit looks. then they’re both off to the nearest park to spend some time together before heading back home to wake reader up with a dog pile & breakfast in bed

— always give him a puck during warm ups before a game. he literally screeches in delight when it happens

— loves showing off his son & reader so much. his instagram is full of just you & your son

— on the days he’s allowed to bring him to practice he brings in his son to monday questions & have him also answer the question

— always spins him around when he picks up up after a game

— so so gentle & patient with his son too

[batsplat]

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

[fuxuannie]

Unrelated to any of the Kenji thirst I keep thinking to the moment where Kenji is real close to losing his shit because someone made the 'Where's the Japanese Version of the guy' in regards to him and like fuck it hit me hard. I'm mixed like to the point where people can't pin my ethnicity by looking at me and constantly being told I'm not x or y enough to be a member of a community by all rights I do belong to I just I really empathized with him in that moment. I'd love to see some head cannons on how he feels and deals with the "Not Japanese enough" allegations, how he feels about being back in his home country after being in America for so long just overall how he adjusts and navigates through that

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — request (thank you so much !!)

✦. love mail — requester wherever you may be, you are loved and it’s heartbreaking you relate to such :( you and me both, but thank you for such a heart touching req 😞🫰.

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, not super x reader focused but elements are there, based on writer’s own experiences, angst-ish (not sure?), mentions of discrimination

Adjusting to life back in Japan was.. no easy feat, really. It had been so long since he was home, it no longer felt right to call it that. He felt out of place in his own skin. No one could tell, after all – it was his charm. But after every game, after every interview, he goes home and feels more disappointed in himself with each day. His own language, it feels foreign on his tongue. Each word he says feels wrong. You’ll be there to reassure him that it’s been some time, of course he won’t be perfect. But that’s the issue; he’s not perfect. He should be. That’s what people expect of him.

Criticism came with the lifestyle, it was a guarantee. But for it to come from his own people? Ouch. It was bad enough that back in America, he was made fun of for his bare-bone English, now back in Japan it’s his barely coherent Japanese. He feels like wherever he goes, he has to feign confidence to not break down. He puts on those damn shades to hide the way his eyes start to tear up when things get too much. Sure, he had gone through shit. But how much can one man take till he starts to break? Kenji can tell you, it’s not a lot. It’s been years and he’s just had to act like it doesn’t affect him.

And if not for the way he speaks, of course they go for how he looks. Now Kenji will admit, he IS a confident man. He loves himself and his image, but he isn’t immune to insecurity, no one is. Your heart breaks whenever he cries in your arms, resting on top of you as he sobs into your chest. You try to soothe his worries, kissing each part of him that he feels insecure about, which ends up just being his whole face. It’s a harrowing sight to see. You just wished you could get rid of all his problems, because for one man to bear it all? It wasn’t fair for his poor soul.

Sometimes you’ll wake up to him watching his old games, he’ll ask you what’s wrong, but you don’t notice. Instead, you see little him and how he smiled. It confused you, the tape wasn’t even playing – it was just paused there. He had that typical smile that most kids had, full of teeth and eyes squinted because of how wide their smile was. You chuckle, he was so cute. You then look back at him, and you try to understand. “I-” He’ll start, running a hand through his hair. “I just.. I missed that smile. The people back in America.. they made fun of me so-” You ran into his arms, engulfing him in a hug that made him feel so warm and fuzzy. And he doesn’t realise it, but that moment brings back that smile. He’s just so happy with you he can’t help it.

I think that, all and all, he’s just had to become desensitised to everything. He just shuts down whenever someone says something about how he doesn’t fit in. You’ll defend him, but he tells you not to. It’s a waste of breath. You want to argue that it’s not, that he deserves to be defended, but his defeated look wins you over. He knows there’s no real way to stop them, so he’d rather focus on his practices or making you feel happy. Those are things that matter to him; not something as temporary as his appearance or mannerisms of speech. He’s accepted that, and his priority is your happiness and his. :)

For more lighthearted headcanons, if you were Japanese, you'd offer to help Kenji refresh on writing his Kanji and overall speaking, which he is more than happy to accept. Another case, if you aren't Japanese; he'll ask if you want to learn with him. He's overjoyed if you accept, it brings a positive association and motivation to relearn his language. It wasn't to just please people.

I imagine Ami had become a good friend to you and Kenji, so she offers to demonstrate all the mannerisms Kenji has perhaps forgotten (and you did too/want to learn as well) to help. You both appreciate her helpful hand, and treat her to good restaurants for dinner as thanks. :)

[lingering-42-long]

141 + extra when they get home from war

Y’all be too much lol. This is my third head cannon and the Mother’s Day one is still on the top of the likes list and I don’t know why like that one was my trash one and everything else I like put time and effort into. It’s like offering people a gourmet meal or Ramen noodles with chicken nuggets, lol I’m glad everybody does enjoy my Content though, and I hope that you all enjoy this one as well!

COD x Female Character

Warnings: PG-13, mentioning of sex, fluff, suggestion of angst

Captain John Prince

• when he gets home, he’s usually pretty tired.

• Don’t be alarmed if he just wants to sleep when he gets home.

• Usually you pick him up from the airport and he will load in his bags with a grunt and say that he could really use some good sleep.

• He smells like gun powder and dirt, even though he just took a shower.

• When he gets home, he will give you a kiss, then head off to bed no matter what time of day it is.

• He’s just that tired.

• When he wakes up the first thing he does is go back over to you and give you a proper kiss and a proper greeting.

• Make sure that you have some food for him. He’s going to be hungry, and he really needs some thing that’s more sustainable than MREs.

• He wants to hear about your life and what you’ve been up to while he’s been at work.

• Listening to you talk is one of his favorite past times and it helps him relax. Sitting in front of the couch while watching some TV show while you’re rambling on about the past months and about what you’ve been up to really brings a smile to his face.

• He likes to catch up on his reading.

• This man enjoys reading with a cigar in his mouth and a glass of bourbon.

• If you’ve picked out a new book for him to read, he will be gladly appreciate of of it.

• But most importantly, he would want you to be in his lap while he’s reading, but if you don’t like the smell of cigar smoke near your face, he will make sure not to smoke near you.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• Simon comes home as Ghost.

• The persona of a vengeful wraith and the shell of a once human is what your are graced with.

• He is very quiet, very solemn, and very cold.

• This is because he’s just dealing with his PTSD.

• He needs time to heal from recent encounters. This can take as little as one week to as long as three months.

• After badgering him enough times, to go see a therapist, he obliges.

• Though he’s pretty cranky about it.

• Give him space. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but right now, he doesn’t trust himself, especially with the nightmares raging through his mind.

• His nightmares are so vivid that it can be hard to distinguish Friend or foe.

• This is due to the fact that he needs to be working or else those vile thoughts come hunting him.

• He will never tell you about what goes on while he’s away.

• Once Ghost disappears, Simon takes his place.

• The poor broken man is just tired, and he just wants to lay next to you and hear about your day or months.

• Once you become stable enough, he begins to be more active around the house instead of just brooding in the bedroom.

• He hast to keep himself busy at all times.

• No rest for the wicked.

• Hast to sleep with a lamp on.

• Even though he seems harsh around the outside, he loves you deeply, and that’s why he separates himself from you for a certain time.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• Opposite of Ghost, Johnny is so excited to see you!

• As soon as he gets off the airplane, he runs over to you!

• This man is all over you before you even see him!

• He starts asking you 1 million questions about how your months have been and what’s been going on with his family and any news on the recent football (soccer) matches.

• You actually have to calm him down because he’s all over the place.

• When you get into the car, he is kissing you all over your face.

• This man has enough energy to run to the moon and back, and it shows.

• He’ll try to take you right there if only he wasn’t in a car confined by a seatbelt

• Johnny is quick to help around the house and do whatever task you need to do.

• He says he’s making up for lost time.

• If you’ve decorated the house in a new way, he will always compliment what you’ve done to it.

• Johnny wakes up early in the morning and practically begged you to join him on a hike.

• It could be down pouring for all he cares about but he really wants to be with you while he’s working out.

• He will bring you back a souvenir probably something stupid like a rock or a jar of sand.

• If he gets any scars, he shows you and starts pointing them out and tells you the story about each and everyone of them.

• He won’t go into great detail about how gruesome the battling was.

• He wants you to be in his life every step of the way, even if you’re at home.

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• Kyle is grinning from ear to ear when he sees you!

• He’s not as hyper as Johnny, nor is he a stoic as his captain.

• He has the perfect mix between excited and tired

• When you to get home, he says that you two should just order pizza and he’s dying to play a video game with you even if he’s a little tired.

• Kyle doesn’t go into a lot of detail about his work. He’ll just make an occasional gesture about what he saw what he did.

• Like soap, he’ll bring you back a souvenir.

• He actually takes time with his souvenir shopping though, and we’ll go to local markets installs to actually pick you out some thing that you might like.

• Happy to be with you and glad to be away from the fighting.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• When he comes home, his first instinct is to drop his bags by the door, and bring you into a warm and passionate kiss and hug.

• As much as he loves his job and all of his soldiers and team, some thing about being at home with you makes him feel truly loved.

• He may be tired, but he still going to serenade you like it’s his last day on earth.

• If you haven’t started making dinner yet, he will help and participate with whatever you’re doing. He may be tired, but he’s never tired for you.

• He loves watching you move around the house.

• He’s not going to deny it, but you wearing his clothes and cooking dinner with him really turns him on.

• After dinner, he may propose a night in bed to you.

• This man serenades you in sex especially after he’s been away for a long time

• Physical touch is his love language, and he loves being with you.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• Like his commander, when he comes home, all he wants to do is drop his bags and immediately embrace you and a warm hug while rubbing your head and whispering how much he’s missed you.

• He also wants to help you cook dinner, or do some thing, but if you go, tell him to take a shower and to relax, he won’t deny that he needs it.

• Rudy loves reading a book with you so after dinner he will want to skip the washing dishes and ask if you would like to read with him before going to bed. No matter what time it is in the day. If he’s tired enough, he will once to at least read a little bit before falling asleep.

• Once he’s asleep, the bags underneath his eyes seem to disappear. He knows you’re close and he knows that you’re safe and that’s all that he could ever ask for to make him happy.

König

• As soon as he gets off the airplane and sees you amongst the crowd of people, his anxiety stops, and he immediately makes his way to you.

• He can’t sleep on an airplane, but as soon as he’s in the car, he’s about ready to doze off. You have to remind him not to though, because waking him up or trying to drag him out of the car is near impossible.

• He is really trying hard not to pass out in the car.

• Once he gets home, he stumbles into the kitchen looking for a nice tall glass of water to drink, and a sandwich or two to eat.

• Make sure that you keep the sandwiches stocked.

• This man will then make his way to the bedroom, take a cold shower, get into some warm PJs, and then slip into bed.

• Once he’s asleep, he will stay in his hybernation for roughly 3 days.

• He will only wake up to use the restroom, get a drink of water, or to eat some thing.

• When his mind is on the battlefield, he rarely puts himself into a sleep state, but when he’s at home, it’s like all of the hours that he missed, sleeping or suddenly compiled in a single week.

• Just let him rest, and sooner or later, he’ll wake up from his hibernation, and will seek you out so that he can give you kisses and hugs and ask how your time has been away from him.

Alex Keller

• When Alex gets back, like everybody on this list, he is tired.

• His leg is very sore from the prosthetic. Prosthetics are not comfortable and cause I’m serious leg and back pain.

• He will ask very nicely if you could massage his leg for him when he gets home.

• Once he’s in the car, Alex is taking off that damn prosthetic leg and rubbing his stump.

• You can tell he’s in a lot of pain just by the way, his eyes crease, and a frown forms.

• In order to get him off of the pain, you talk to him about his time.

• This usually makes him perk up since he enjoys talking to you about his adventures.

• His personality is like a mix between Johnny and Kyle, but leans more towards Kyle.

• When you get home you’ll have to help him walk because he really does not want to put on his prosthetic.

• You just leave the bag in the car to get later.

• When Alex gets into bed, it’s like a huge sigh of relief washes over him.

• You can see how red and agitated his amputated limb is.

• You do what you can to make him feel better by applying some numbing cream and giving him some pain relieving medicine.

• He always feels better once you start massaging his leg and even more so if you give them a back rub.

• This man is a simple man and enjoys a simple massage after months of no rest.

Philip Graves

• Like a soldier from World War II coming home to meet his best girl.

• He always surprises you when he comes home and has one of his shadow men drive him to the house.

• He always buys you a huge bouquet of flowers and some pretty jewelry as well.

• When he walks through the door, he asks where his baby girl is.

• And of course you come running and giving him a huge hug and crying, which he immediately envelops you into a hug.

• He’s whispering in your ear with that southern drawl about how much she misses you.

• He gets a little into himself when he’s talking about how his mission is or how he was able to handle such a dangerous and daunting task.

• As egotistical, as this may seem, it is his way of expressing his love for you in a slightly weird way.

• In the evening, he’ll probably swoop you up into a dance, with both of you, smiling and laughing.

• He tells you how much he misses you and how much he loves you.

• In bed, he shows you how much he means both of those things.

[snailmail444]

Bachelor Head Cannons

18+ 🌱 NSFW 🌱 MDNI

Head cannons for all the bachelors masturbation habits under the cut! Send me asks if you want to see more head cannons from me 💞

Harvey-

💚 Harvey spends so much time antsy and anxious, poor guy.

💚 So when he’s getting himself off he needs a gentle touch. Literally and figuratively.

💚 He has a few favorite videos he likes of porn, which he goes back to when he’s getting off.

💚 Professional porn takes him out of it. He’s so worried about if everything is consensual and comfortable and compensated he’s not horny anymore. Even when he can get past that, he just isn’t into the fake porn premises.

💚 Do you really expect him to believe she’s stuck in that washing machine? Get real.

💚 Harvey can really get into it when it’s amateur, and the couple seems like they’re genuinely enjoying each other. Giggling, bumping the camera, whispered “I love you’s.”

💚 Uses a lot of quality lube. As a doctor, he’s going to take proper care of his body. Especially his dick. The last thing he wants is a friction burn on his junk.

💚 Goes nice and slow. He doesn’t want to rush himself when he’s working to relax, so it’s not a race for him.

💚 Eyes fluttering, cheeks flushed, hitching breath when he’s close.

💚 Can only get off when the people in the video have. Cums with a sigh, leaning back in complete satisfaction.

💚 Takes a long shower after and gets excellent rest. It really helps alleviate his stress, so he sleeps like a baby.

Elliott-

❤️ When I tell You this man makes it an EVENT!

❤️ He’s breaking out the candles. He’s got a bubble bath run. He’s got a glass of red wine.

❤️ Elliott is first and foremost a man of luxury. So when it comes to taking care of himself? He is taking CARE of himself.

❤️ We’re talking a long edging session that starts in the tub and ends in his bed. He’s so coy that he even teases himself. Gets him worked UP!

❤️ This is an erotic novel kinda guy if there ever was one. I mean come on. You KNOW he’s reading those flowing sex scenes with flowery language to get off to.

❤️ One hand holding his dick the other holding his book.

❤️ It doesn’t matter if he’s alone, he is talking. Elliott is a wellspring of words, so they’re flowing. Praise and curses and sweet names, all of it. He gets so wrapped up in the fantasy that it feels real to him, and that’s his way to engage with it.

❤️ He’s a romantic, but the stuff that really gets him off is hot and desperate and needy. The love interests of his novel devouring each other after a slow burn or a long break. The passion is where it’s at for him.

❤️ Secretly kinda loves it filthy. Chaste and loving is good and satisfying, but it doesn’t do a ton for him sexually. He wants his sex sloppy, spitty, and utterly human.

❤️ Probably gets off the least out of all the bachelors simply because it’s a whole process for him. He wants to enjoy it with unabashed hedonism.

❤️ Sometimes he’ll eat fruit while he’s doing it just to engage all his senses.

Alex-

🤎 Alex would absolutely be a morning jerker if Evelyn and George weren’t up at the crack of dawn.

🤎 Man wakes up rock hard and would love to do something about it, but since Evelyn knocks on his door for breakfast at a routine seven am, he has to will it away.

🤎 The tradeoff, though, makes it worth the wait. Both of his lovely grandparents are hard of hearing, go to bed early, and George has a loud CPAP machine.

🤎 So when I tell you Alex can be as loud as he wants at night. He can be as loud as he wants. Unless you’re physically shaking his grandparents, they’re sleeping through it.

🤎 Which is a good thing, because Alex is a mouthy guy. Moans, groans, curses, whines, whimpers, you name it. If he has a hand on his dick, he’s making noise.

🤎 It’s a little old fashioned, but Alex has sexy magazines stashed between his mattress and box spring. Video porn is overwhelming to him—he doesn’t know what to search, he just wants some eye candy—so this is the best option he can think of.

🤎 He’s not very fussy, honestly. Low maintenance kinda jerker. As long as he’s looking at somebody he finds attractive, he’s gonna get off.

🤎 And Alex is such a secret romantic, he’s thinking about sweet, tender sex with somebody he would love a whole lot. His hand takes the same rhythm he imagines he’d use fucking slow and deep.

🤎 This is the way that Alex ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper. Man is whining as he strokes himself through his orgasm.

🤎 Has a few tissues he uses to clean up and then passes directly out. Rinse and repeat three times/week.

Shane-

💙 Okay it depends.

💙 If he’s still drinking he doesn’t jerk off that much because he’s got chronic whiskey dick.

💙 BUT. After that? Oh boy.

💙 Shane’s surprised by his own libido when he’s sober. It’s, like, all the time. He thinks maybe it’s because he didn’t get off for so long that he’s making up for lost time.

💙 He gets a surprising amount of privacy in the old ranch house, which he has never been more thankful for. It doesn’t hurt that Marnie snore pretty loud and Jas sleeps like the dead, so most of the night is free to him.

💙 However. Some nights it’s just not feasible. Cough, cough, thanks Lewis.

💙 Luckily, Shane’s got his secret spot. The dock never gets any foot traffic, literally ever. He absolutely will go out there to take care of himself if he needs to.

💙 Big lotion guy. He needs it especially because his hands are rough from all the work he does with them. The callouses feel good if he’s got enough lubricant, though.

💙 Can go either way on porn. Sometimes he likes to watch a good video of what he’s in the mood for, but he doesn’t need it.

💙 He gets off more on memories than anything else. Some of his best fucks are vivid enough in his mind he almost feels like he’s back there when he gets off on it.

💙 And if he has a crush on somebody? Man doesn’t need much. Getting off thinking about how they looked on their knees the other day, about how his cum would look on their face. In the moment he has no shame in thinking about the object of his affections. That’ll come later.

💙 Bites his wrist to keep himself quiet. Not because anybody can hear him, but because he gets embarrassed about the noises he makes and how into it he gets.

💙 Gets desperate for release towards the end. Bucking his hips up and fucking his fist until he cums over his tense stomach. His face is complete bliss, and typically he forgets to muffle that last moan anymore because he’s too caught up in his pleasure.

💙 Post nut clarity hits him a little too hard sometimes. He feels a lot of guilt and shame he’s still working through. Therapy’s helping, though.

Sam-

🩷 Poor Sammy never gets any proper alone time. It’s not the easiest for him to just get off whenever the urge comes on him.

🩷 Which is incredibly unfortunate, because the urge comes on him…often, to say the least.

🩷 Let’s be real. It’s probably once a day, sometimes twice. Man’s sex drive is insane. Truly just insatiable.

🩷 But the walls of his house are paper thin, he has no lock on his door, and his mom and Vincent are always busting in. He only gets a shred of privacy in his shower, and even that’s difficult because he shares with Vincent. Hard to get off when his tiny fists are constantly pounding on the door.

🩷 So Sam can’t just jack it at a moments notice. He has to wait until everybody is asleep, because blessedly Jodi and Vince go to bed early, and Kent is usually in bed by ten pm sharp. Thank God for that military sense of routine.

🩷 As soon as it’s lights out, Sam’s got an earbud in and a hand in his boxers. He’s so desperate and needy by the end of the day that he has to bite his shirt to keep from moaning with relief.

🩷 Man adores porn. LOVES. Porn. He needs a visual aid for his fantasies, and some good audio doesn’t hurt his feelings.

🩷 Sweet Sam has a possessive streak. He tries to find videos where one of the people looks like whoever he’s into at the time, and he imagines it’s him fucking them.

🩷 And if the video has a good cumshot? He’s gone. Fucking wasted. His hand will slide feverishly up and down his cock until he’s cumming right along with them, the whole time imagining it’s him marking up his crush and making them his.

🩷 By the grace of Yoba he hasn’t been caught yet, but he’s always rushing because he’s paranoid somebody will find him with a hand around his dick or cum all over his abdomen.

Sebastian-

🖤 Unlike Sam, he has almost complete privacy the majority of the time.

🖤 Robin spared no expense on soundproofing their house, so nobody can hear anything unless they’re pressed up against his door.

🖤 And since nobody bothers him, and he’s got a sturdy lock, it’s never a problem. He can get off really whenever he wants to.

🖤 When he was in high school, it was all the time. If he had a second alone, he was probably jerking off.

🖤 Now though, it’s tapered off. He only has to get off once a week, maybe a few times if he’s really worked up about something.

🖤 And with his computer setup? He has a full Cinematic experience. Full screen, over-ear headphones, reclined back in his gamer chair. His dick pulled out of his boxers and his shirt rucked up to his chest. Sebastian is taking complete advantage of every luxury he has available to him.

🖤 Let’s be real. He’s an Only Fans kinda guy. Sebastian has specific tastes, and he likes the convenience of having content he likes ready and available. Plus, he’s not about to risk any viruses on his computer.

🖤 It doesn’t hurt that it’s more ethical that way. Sex work is real work, and deserves proper compensation, which he’s more than happy to give.

🖤 As for the content? We circle back to his specific tastes. He likes soft BDSM. No intense stuff, but the dirty talk aspect especially does it for him. Spanking or light choking are about as hardcore as he likes.

🖤 But the thing that’s guaranteed to get him off? Oral. Every single time. He loves to go down on people—he’s borderline obsessed with it, actually. It’s something he can’t personally put his finger on (it’s called an oral fixation buddy), but he cums so hard thinking about leaving purpling hickies along thighs and using his tongue to get his partner off.

🖤 And since he prioritizes heavily on having a clean space, he has everything ready to clean himself up. Especially important since he cums a lot.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 1

Finnick Odair x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

The first thing you remember after they lifted you from the arena was the hands of Capital doctors grabbing at you. Three weeks in the arena had left you extremely weak and you had a bad cut on your face but none of that mattered. They were touching you and you didn’t like that.

The second thing you remember after they lifted you from the arena was waking up chained to your hospital bed, surrounded by peacekeepers and President Snow.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the old man stated. “I wish you wouldn’t be so difficult with us.”

“Difficult?” you ask with what little voice you have left.

“It seems that you won’t let us treat your wounds, or let anyone get close to you for that matter,” he states. “The poor doctor was just trying to take your temperature when you stabbed him with a scalpel.”

“He was touching me,” you reply.

“Oh my dear we have a long road ahead of us if you are planning on remaining… difficult.”

You hadn’t meant to kill so many people. First it was 6 in the arena, then it was the doctor in the capital, then it was your first client, then it was another capital doctor and a peacekeeper trying to restrain you. By the time you came down from your lapse in sanity, you had been sentenced to house arrest in District 4’s victors village.

“Feral” is what they called you. To everyone outside of your home you were uncontrollable; crazy; even dangerous. To yourself, you were broken; confused; misunderstood. To him, you were everything.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” Linessa, the District 4 escort, calls out as she reaps the tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games. Mags moves to volunteer but you quickly shoot her a look and she backs down. She knows you won’t hurt her, in fact, she’s one of the few people who genuinely cares for you, but she knows not to interfere when your mind is made up.

Annie shrinks into Mags’ side as you shuffle past her towards the escort. She’s another poor, misunderstood being like you. The two of you have never been friends for the simple reason that she is absolutely terrified of you and sometimes her meltdowns set you off. Maybe in a different reality you two would be friends, but not in this one.

Peacekeepers follow you to the front of the stage as you drag your shackled feet forward. This is the first time anyone besides the victors has seen you in around 5 years, and they’re getting a good look at what “feral” looks like.

The peacekeepers hold a gun to your back as you stand on the stage, head high. It’s so hot out you’re hoping you’ll sweat enough to slip your hands out of your cuffs. The district center looks the same as the last time you saw it all those years ago.

“Finnick Odair,” Linessa reads out and your head immediately snaps towards her. She lets out a small shriek and the peacekeepers tighten their hold on their guns as Finnick makes his way to the front to stand next to you. Of course, they don’t let him get anywhere near you, but you wouldn’t hurt him. You would burn the whole world to the ground if it meant protecting him.

The peacekeepers allow Mags to join you and Finnick on the train but they don’t let her anywhere near you. Finnick tries to tell them that you’re fine and won’t hurt anyone but they won’t listen.

You’re done trying to advocate for yourself. In fact, it’s useless. You haven’t spoken to anyone besides Finnick in five years. Not since your client…

Anyways, peacekeepers escort you to your room and set up guard in the hall. They’re too scared to be in the room with you, and none of the avoxes will go near you.

You wouldn’t have even been fed if it weren’t for Finnick barging into your room (despite the peacekeepers’ protests) with a plate of food. The peacekeepers made him keep the door open so they could monitor the situation but at least you could eat.

“How are you feeling?” Finnick asks as you pick at your food. You shrug your shoulders in response. He goes to lay his hand close to yours in comfort, causing one of the peace keepers to pipe up.

“Hey!” he yells, causing you to jump. “Back up Mr. Odair. We’ve been advised not to let anyone get within five feet of it.”

Finnick stands up and moves himself between you and the peacekeepers.

“First of all,” he states. “She is not an ‘it’. She’s a human being like the rest of us. Secondly, she is not a danger to me. She would never hurt me and even if she tried we both know I would win that fight. Scaring her like that is only going to set her off, and I won’t hold her back if she does. The best thing you can do, for everyone’s safety, is treat her like a human being, absolutely do not touch her, and no yelling. She’s not an animal, she’s traumatized.”

“Sir we’ve been ordered to shoot her at the first sign of agression. The capital doctors have advised us that she’s a danger to those around her,” the peacekeeper states.

“The capital doctors haven’t seen her in over five years!” Finnick exclaims. “They don’t know the first thing about her. Now get out and let us eat in peace. Don’t forget I’ve killed people too.”

The peacekeepers, visibly shaken, leave your room and allow the door to close. Finnick sits back down on your bed with you to resume your meal.

Taglist:

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[alicerosejensen]

Heyyyy hope you’re doing well!!

Please can you imagine Leon (re6) loosing his shit because they kidnapped his girlfriend and he’s like trying everything to get her back? Imagine him crying as soon as he gets to hug her again!😭

I'm fine as long as I have a laptop connected to the internet and food)

In fact, this is one of my favorite plot tropes, when someone is kidnapped, and the main character is ready to burn the whole world to the ground, but to find an expensive person.

Leon, despite his moral principles, I think he could have made many sacrifices. In particular, he would definitely lose his temper if he grabbed onto any thread to find his beloved. At least he didn't stand on ceremony with Patrizio.

Thus, there will be little left of the scoundrel who kidnapped his girlfriend.

Something constantly happens to the poor girl of Leon (either she runs away from him, or she is stolen from him). Sorry, I just love their relationship and Leon, who is ready to kill for his loved ones :D

I still know shit English, but enjoy it if you're interested.

Please read with extreme caution! There are mentions of physical violence, kidnapping and a maniac!Yandere

Leon is a little paranoid when it comes to protecting his loved ones, so most likely he will insert some tracking device into your phone or earrings to be sure that his beloved is safe.

He tries not to violate personal boundaries, but understands that his beloved is in potential danger in relation to him. Therefore, you are under additional invisible protection.

All you need to know is that Leon is not abusing his position as a federal agent. There is no surveillance on you, it's just that if something happens, he wants to have time to prevent it before the irreparable happens (or he goes on a binge again).

His heart sinks at the thought that he may lose you for some reason. Any encroachment into your personal space by outsiders who create discomfort for you make Leon enter the defender mode (aggressive if necessary). You should be safe.

Since Leon is known to a minimum of people about Leon's love interest, the risk is minimal that you will be harmed. At least Leon considered the threat from various corporations and bioterrorists. He didn't even think about the fact that there is some bastard stealing your things.

It was some little things: pencils, hair bands, a pocket mirror, lip gloss. Yes, you said something to him about it, but maybe you just dropped them out of your backpack?

He was calm exactly until you became too nervous. It seemed that you were afraid of something and called him a couple of times with a request to meet on the way home. Leon is not one of those who will refuse, but your behavior worries him.

And when you were walking home, Leon felt your painful grip on his arm.

His main priority is your well-being. "So tell me, pretty girl, what's going on with you?" Don't think I haven't noticed this nervousness.

He will be wary when he hears that someone is following you and dragging your things. Of course you could have lost them yourself, but the chiffon scarf that Leon gave you was the last straw. In addition, you showed him the abnormal love notes that someone constantly threw into your purse.

Outwardly, it did not affect him in any way, but the stingy "I'll deal with it" means a lot. The anxiety level has increased and Leon is worried that some kind of psycho might hurt you.

He often calls and asks if everything is in order and when you need to be picked up from college. However, when you don't answer the phone, everything dies inside him.

The moment he realizes that you have been taken away, a monster wakes up in him, which can bring down hell on your abductor.

His emotional state constantly fluctuates from constant fear for your lives bordering on panic to Ustanak whose task is to find you and finish off the son of a bitch who dared to take you away from him.

"No god will help this son of a bitch when I find him."

It's sad that you lost your phone on the day of the abduction and did not put on earrings. But a nice little bracelet will save you.

are a fucking goddess.

When you wake up, of course, you will be scared. However, you will try to intimidate the criminal by saying that he is so obsessed with you in vain. "Seriously, my boyfriend will come after me and gut you" You don't think Leon will kill anyone at all, so maybe your words don't sound too confident when the kidnapper's hand is stroking your head.

Do you panic when a fucking psycho says it's some kind of date? No one here hears your screams, you can't run away because you're handcuffed. You can't even go to the toilet on your own only under his control, and this causes you a deep psychological trauma. He brings you a fucking lilac, weaving thin twigs into your hair.

"Why me?" - This is the only question that is spinning in your head when you are hysterically pulling out purple flowers, throwing them away from you. - "Am I going to die here?"

You literally go crazy from the smell of dampness and lilac. Constantly shout Leon's name as if he can hear you and immediately breaking into a loud cry, banging on the walls and the locked door.

You're clearly getting claustrophobic.

While you're suffering, Leon is trying to track the fucking signal on one of your trinkets, but he's afraid that you left that day without any jewelry at all.

Claire is definitely one of those people who can talk some sense into Leon while he's looking for you. Considering that the bug gives a bad signal (or maybe your bracelet was damaged due to the fact that you constantly pull it from nerves) from the basement and your location is difficult to track, Leon has already yelled at Chris

You feel like a frog in formalin or even some kind of toy when your abductor brings you clean clothes, which you throw back to him. It's risky to make him angry like that and you really regret it when brute force is used to force you to change clothes.

Yes, then they "take care" of you, but you are already a cornered mouse. The purple marks on your skin and the marks from the handcuffs are now a reminder of who is in charge here.

And you hate that bastard more and more. Unfortunately, you have absolutely nothing to even hit him with. The food that he brings you in plastic dishes, as well as cutlery. You try not to eat, fearing that he might have mixed something in there, but you are forced by force.

It's been three days, and Leon hasn't found you. You feel like you're starting to go crazy until you hear a muffled noise from somewhere above.

All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants

All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants

Has anyone ever told you that you are not the luckiest person?

You tried to attack from behind when they stopped stroking you. It was risky and you failed because the kidnapper reacted before you swung to strike.

You were very painfully punished, left lying on the damp floor in a terrible state, all in tears and without an evening meal.

It's been four terrible days in your life. All because you fiddled with your bracelet too much, which turned out to be thrown away quite far from the place where you were, forcing Leon to go on a false trail.

You felt terrible. It didn't take long to break you. You no longer hoped to see daylight or your loved ones, so you crawled into the farthest corner curled up in a ball and cried.

Having lost track of time due to another fit of hysteria, you did not want to pay attention to the opening door and hurried steps in your direction.

Preferring not to pay attention to your enemy, you became even more hysterical when he tried to turn you around to face him, affectionately calling you "angel".

That's what infuriated you. But when you opened your eyes in another attempt to attack, you froze in disbelief at your own eyes. Have you already gone crazy in this place? So fast, or was Leon really in front of you?

His light blue eyes were dark. Not as bright as usual, but maybe it's because of the lighting… Strong hands carefully examined your body for the number of bruises.

You looked away in the direction of the open door - your freedom, but you felt Leon's fingers gently tracing over your split lips.

You've never seen such quiet hatred before. You were shivering from the cold, feeling that tears were still flowing down your cheeks, and tried to snuggle up to Leon in search of protection and warmth.

But Leon himself pressed you to him, slightly lifting up his T-shirt, checking for underwear. You flinched, and then you heard a single question when you grabbed his back with both hands, pressing your head against his chest.

"That son of a bitch…" - Leon gritted his teeth, still looking at your stolen things on the floor. - "I'll kill him"

The fuse clicked.

Leon took off his jacket, putting it on you (with great difficulty, because you did not want to interrupt close contact with him), and then easily picked up in his arms, like a small child, carrying out of this basement. You closed your eyes just to not see anything else. Leon's scent worked better than any strong sedative, and you wanted him not to let you go anymore.

So small. Defenseless. Bruised all over. He will kiss you on the temple, looking at the sprawled bastard with such a look that it will be clear how it will end. Leon will hand you over to Claire, despite your growing hysteria over the loss of hugs, and do what he has planned.

It's going to be pretty bloody. He expressed some regret about Patricio, but Leon will never forgive someone who hurt you, leaving a scar on your soul. So he'll empty the whole clip on him.

Because of this, he will have some problems, but you are the priority. You will undergo a full examination at the hospital, where Leon will be reassured (partially) that your violence ended with beatings. In general, there are no physical injuries, but both Leon and Claire understand what condition you will be in.

He will take care of you. Try to do everything so that you don't remember that four-day nightmare. He will find a good therapist, but if your brain decided to erase these memories on its own, a kind of protective reaction to stress, then it will even calm him down.

Leon understands the reason for your detached behavior. He is glad that you are not afraid to let him near you, thereby subconsciously making him your shield. he's ready to be one before you start trusting people again.

No one heard it, but Leon was really crying quietly when it was over. You were sleeping after taking a sedative dose, and he was sitting in the bathtub thinking only that he could not save you faster.

He won't touch you once again for fear of triggering some kind of trigger, but in your head it is Leon the hero savior. Therefore, if you are looking for protection in him, then it's even good, because this is how he hopes to redeem himself before you.

In the end, you are faced with dissociative amnesia. You realize that something terrible has happened, but you have a lapse in memory. Leon will be the one who will start distracting you from your memories by persuading you not to remember. He really considers it a gift of fate and will go out of his way so that you don't touch this moment of life at all, leaving him behind a black curtain.

And yet one day he burst into tears clutching to his chest. While you sleep next to him feeling completely safe, Leon will need to hug you tightly and come up with better ways to protect you. He feels guilty that he did not save you and this feeling of guilt will gnaw at him for a long time.

"I'm sorry… sweetheart, I'm so sorry… - what you hear in your sleep. - "Never again…no one will hurt you. Never."You don't remember a damn thing, but you're scared because Leon is crying kissing the top of your head.

He won't let anyone else take you away.

[jessamine-rose]

⋆˚♱ଘ Annular Eclipse ଓ♱˚⋆

A long time ago, I binge-watched The Ancient Magus’ Bride and that decision came back to haunt me in my Church AU…… *evil laugh*

As always, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this piece!! And to my dear mutuals, I hope you all suffer enjoy the sinful story of Cartaphilus! Pierro x Angel! Darling ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

Tw:: yandere, blood, violence, death, suicidal ideation, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 5.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Among God’s creations, His favorite is granted a special fate. Though all lives end in death, only humanity is blessed with salvation and afterlife. Those who live righteously may thus ascend to Heaven, whereas sinners are condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. There is, however, one exception—a fragment of humanity whose sins may never be forgiven.

♡ Legends speak of Khaenri’ah, the nation of sinners. Once the pride of humankind, its citizens challenged God through their creations in alchemy and technology—and the entire nation was subsequently destroyed in a sea of flames. In the wake of the Cataclysm, pollen from the Tree of Life rained down upon the survivors, afflicting them with their final punishment, immortality.

♡ Since then, Khaenri’ahns have roamed the mortal plane in a perpetual state of living. Denied a place in Heaven and Hell, they are cursed to live forever no matter what harm befalls their body and psyche. Due to their wicked reputation, they must also live in fear of their once-fellow humans, lest they face persecution. For this reason, eternity differs among Khaenri’ahns, with a unique fate reserved for the one who goes by the name of Pierro.

♡ After the Cataclysm, Pierro led a group of survivors to Snezhnaya where they established a new home. For three centuries, it was a peaceful haven hidden from the divine gaze of God and the Church…until it was exposed by a traitor and destroyed with manmade flames. In the ensuing chaos, Pierro was the sole “survivor” in the sense that he managed to escape. The rest were critically wounded, buried alive, and left to suffer for all eternity.

♡ Having lost his second home, Pierro began a search for other Khaenri’ahns, only to be further disillusioned. Many communities had also fallen to ruin, if not from persecution but by their own madness. Others, blinded by dreams of death, had resorted to violence and witchcraft in their fruitless attempts to break the curse. And several individuals had embarked on quests for the Tree of Life, only to disappear far away from their homeland. In two more centuries, Khaenri’ah was reduced to a forgotten myth, and Pierro had lost all hope for his people.

♡ So when he gets into an accident, he sees no point in saving himself. If he were younger, he’d be horrified at the thought of falling off a cliff. At best, he’d end up with more scars albeit another permanent reminder of his tragic fate. As for the worst-case scenario, he’d become paralyzed, trapped below the cliff, doomed to eternity as a living corpse. But now, hanging off the edge by his fingertips, he considers the possibility that his head takes the brunt of the impact. A coma would be the closest thing to a reprieve from his waking hell.

♡ Just as his grip weakens, a hand reaches out and catches his wrist. The action is so sudden, so forceful, that Pierro has no time to think before he is pulled up and his back hits the grass. Above him, eclipsing his view of the sun, is the face of a stranger. A tearful expression. A kind gaze that seems to pierce through his soul.

“Are you hurt? Why didn’t you call for help?! You poor thing, I’m sorry for only seeing you now.”

“I am…” He averts your gaze and instead focuses on the sky. It is the color of twilight—a harmony of blues, oranges, and reds that pale in comparison to the crimson skies of his nightmares. “...fine. Thank you for your kindness.”

♡ Once the shock wears off, Pierro takes a careful look at his savior. You have the appearance of a typical human, roughly the same age as he was when his body stopped aging. Definitely not a Khaenri’ahn, given your lack of cursed marks and star-shaped pupils. Neither are there any religious symbols on your clothing, which is a relief. As for your tears shed on his behalf…he’ll chalk it up to pity.

♡ At your insistence, you treat him to a meal at the nearest inn. When Pierro introduces himself as an ordinary traveler, you make a similar claim and suggest journeying together. It is a tempting offer—the both of you are alone with no destination in mind, and you seem harmless. So against his better judgment, Pierro accepts your proposal.

♡ Over time, he warms up to his new companion. You are kind, competent, a bright presence in his life. Traveling with you is like seeing the world with new eyes—you lead him to bustling cities, picturesque forests, places teeming with life. The only downside is your visits to the Church for prayers and chats with the local priests, but you at least seem to be an open-minded believer. You always tell Pierro that he doesn’t need to follow along but he does so anyway, if only to evade suspicion and admire the religious art with you.

♡ Other than that, you don’t reveal much about yourself. But you aren’t one to pry into Pierro’s past so he gives you the same courtesy. At times, he finds himself looking at you fondly, feeling a spark of physical attraction, dreaming of a happy future with you. But those delusions are always dashed by the fact of your humanity, so he instead resolves to cherish what little time you have left before death claims your soul.

♡ That was his goal until he begins to notice certain…oddities. It’s common for the two of you to share a tent, a room, sometimes even a bed. Neither of you are fazed by it, especially when Pierro’s main concern is concealing his cursed marks with makeup. But a few months into your travels, he makes a quiet realization: In those nights of shared slumber, not once has he fallen asleep without feeling your gaze on him.

♡ At first, he assumes that you merely sleep later and wake up earlier than him. But every time Pierro wakes up in the middle of the night, you immediately sit up and tend to him, acting as energetic as usual. Neither do you appear lethargic after nights when it is difficult to sleep. So he puts it to the test by regularly chatting with you late into the night; you always follow along, not once sounding tired nor in want of sleep. Once, he talks to you all night long and in the morning, while Pierro is plagued with fatigue, you look perfectly awake. And only when he subtly points it out do you yawn and go back to bed.

♡ Other mysteries follow. There is the time the two of you trekked through a barren wasteland and ran out of food. It took you two days to reach civilization and while Pierro was starving, you never complained about hunger. If anything, you still managed to walk and fight off beasts at your usual energy levels. And on the rare chance that Pierro is injured, you are the one who treats his wounds…and they always heal at an unnaturally fast pace.

♡ A year into your travels, he decides to look for answers. One night, he shares a bed with you and feigns sleep. For the next few hours, he just lies there and takes note of your unnatural way of sleeping—no slowed breaths, no involuntary movements, yet the persistent feeling that he is still being watched. Shortly after midnight, he pulls out a dagger from under his pillow and aims it at you.

♡ It was only a test to see if you’d react quickly and reveal your ruse. Which is exactly what you do, eyes fluttering open and your hand catching the dagger before Pierro can stop short of stabbing your chest. The look on your face is calm, utterly devoid of fear, and you make no move to leave the bed. You just stare at him with the same piercing gaze.

“Good morning,” you tell him. “Are you going to explain the sudden wakeup call? I don’t believe this is rooted in any Khaenri’ahn practices.”

At the mention of his homeland, Pierro’s grip on the dagger tightens. “So it appears that my suspicions were not unfounded. Answer me, are you a spy of the Church?”

Your answer is a benevolent smile. A soft light shines from your body as a halo—silver, pierced with nails—appears behind your head, followed by a wispy veil. Luminous wings emerge from your back, caging Pierro in a feathery embrace.

Your hand, marked with a bloodstained scar, wraps around his wrist.

“I’m your guardian angel,” you whisper.

♡ Technically, your statement is untrue. In a calm voice, you explain that Khaenri’ahns can’t be assigned guardian angels due to their immortality. Moreover, most angels harbor contempt for his kind though you are a rare exception, having taken pity on Pierro and chosen to become his unofficial guardian. The last part triggers an offended response—are you mocking him?

♡ As for your true nature, you’re the leader of the Archangels. As an angel of the Third Sphere, you are one of the closest to humanity, a divine messenger with the additional tasks of providing blessings and guiding humans towards the path of righteousness. Only, you’re currently on a ten-year “break;” it just so happened that you noticed Pierro at the start of your sabbatical.

♡ Once he is confident that you won’t smite him in cold blood, he goes to sleep—it’s been a long night and fatigue will only dull his senses. When he wakes up, he can almost believe that last night’s events were a dream…until you loom over him in your true form, wishing him a good morning. After a long conversation, he decides to continue traveling with you. That way, he can keep a close eye on you and gain some useful knowledge.

♡ Thus resumes your journey. In addition to Pierro’s distrust, there are major changes to your dynamic. You still travel in your human guise but you switch to your true form when it’s just the two of you. Since angels don’t need food or sleep to sustain themselves, you stop eating with him unless you’re in public. At night, only one bed is needed and you simply watch over Pierro, wishing him a peaceful slumber. Your gentle gaze is always the last thing he sees each day, though it takes months before he can fall asleep comfortably.

♡ He also learns about your nightly pastimes. As it turns out, while Pierro is asleep, you like to fly around the city to help lost souls. Just small acts of kindness in your human form…and if needed, divine interventions in the Church. It explains why he often wakes up to news about corrupt priests who experienced “visions of an angel” and publicly confessed their sins.

♡ Along your journey, you also stop by the homes of the humans previously assigned to you. At the beginning of each visit, you go to the cemetery and speak to their grave. Afterwards, you bring Pierro to their favorite places and reminisce about their lives. When he asks why you can’t simply see them in Heaven, you give him a sad smile and explain that the deceased reside in a realm beyond the jurisdiction of angels. In a paradise where every soul is purged of sin, what use is there for an angel’s guidance?

♡ You mourn the lives of angels as well. It comes as a shock to Pierro, the idea that even an angel is susceptible to death. To which you explain that many of your divine siblings were killed by demons. And because afterlife does not exist for spiritual beings, both species simply cease to exist once their lives have ended. As for your former brethren, they cut all ties with you after their descent.

♡ Slowly, Pierro grows to trust you again. It helps that you were able to prove yourself a year later by saving him from your own kind. Granted, he could suspect that it was merely an act but the sight of a Principality cowering before you, their cassock staked to the floor by silver nails, is quite convincing. Not to mention your cold gaze overflowing with wrath.

“So tell me. Why exactly did you attack my dear human?”

The room is silent, save for the younger angel’s whimpers. To think that a few minutes ago, Pierro had been sleeping peacefully. Now he stands beside you, blood trickling from a cut under his scarred eye, still gripping his unused sword.

“I…” Despite being a rank above you, his attacker is clearly terrified. “But ______, that man…he is one of the accursed sinners! He��”

“Now, now.” You kneel to their level but all kindness is lost in your tone. More nails appear out of thin air, all pointing towards the angel’s body. “Look me in the eye when I am talking to you.”

♡ In the end, the angel kneels before Pierro and begs for forgiveness. He accepts their apology, but not without harsh words and a swipe of his sword against their face. After they leave, you worriedly turn to Pierro and heal his injuries. Thanks to your powers, all of his wounds close up without a trace. Still, when you take your hand off his face, what he sees in the mirror is not his healed cheek but the cursed marks exclusive to Khaenri’ahns.

*✧･ﾟ

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Despite the nature of the attack, you are the one acting emotional. A tear rolls down your cheek as you trace the cursed side of Pierro’s face.

“You need not apologize on behalf of your brethren,” he mutters. He glances at his right arm, sleeve pulled up to reveal a similar pattern of blue veins and blackened skin. “...or your Heavenly Father. And I believe I’ve told you countless times not to waste your tears on me.”

“Still.” Shaking your head, you look him in the eye. “How can I not cry every time I gaze into your soul? I wish I could save you, put an end to your suffering…but it’s beyond my capability.”

“So why do you still devote yourself to me, ______?”

______. It is the false name you go by in the human realm, spoken by every person who has known you as their guardian angel. As for your true name, it remains a mystery to Pierro.

Still, he’d like to believe that he is the human who knows you best. He knows that you are the First Archangel, one of the oldest beings in existence. He knows that you were opposed to the Cataclysm but powerless in stopping it. He knows that your decade of rest was caused by an accumulation of stress, an endless cycle of giving and saving and sacrificing which will only continue in a few years’ time.

And what then? At the end of your journey, will you still have time for him? Or is he truly cursed to drift aimlessly in eternal solitude?

His half-mask rests on a nearby drawer, a relic from his second home. He picks it up, thumb pressed against a painted gold tear.

“You astound me,” he continues. “You, of all people, know that salvation is forever beyond my grasp. And yet you continue to spare me absolute grace. Anyone else would have deemed me a lost cause.”

“That is because I love you.”

At that, Pierro nearly drops his mask. He turns to you, starry eyes wide with wonder. “Can you kindly repeat that?”

But the moment he sees your face, he realizes his folly.

“I love you,” you tell him, a soft look in your eyes, “as I love all humans.”

Has kindness ever sounded so cruel?

“...I understand.” He puts down his mask, pride shattered. “Such is to be expected from a being for whom the love for humanity is inherent.”

A love which he and his compatriots are no longer beholden to.

“But of course.” At that, your countenance turns reverent. Your wings fold inwards, and you place a bloodstained hand over your chest. “An angel’s purpose is to serve God and to save His creations. Beyond that, there is no other point to our existence.”

Silence. This time, Pierro doesn’t bother to hide his judgment.

“Well, that is our initial reason,” you add, noticing his expression. “After all, what’s not to love when your kind is capable of so many wonderful things? Really, you never fail to surprise us.”

“How so?”

“I’ll confess, many of us angels were once in awe of Khaenri’ah,” you admit. “Think of it: Your people found a way to create life, sorcery, powers that were once exclusive to God. Had I met you during your days as a royal mage, I surely would have been impressed.”

Hard to say. Despite his previous status, Pierro hasn’t practiced Khaenri’ahn sorcery in years. It’s likely that his powers have eroded alongside his spirit.

“Then only a century after the Cataclysm, there was the Angel-Killer who performed miracles using our flesh. As a matter of fact…I made the mistake of assigning his first victim to him.”

Your grief isn’t lost on him. The bed creaks as you take a seat next to Pierro, adjusting the chain of mourning lockets around your waist. It bears mementos of both humans and angels.

“Thirteen angels lost their lives to him, including two of my dearest siblings. Needless to say, we were all relieved when Il Dottore finally died, though I had to be given a century’s worth of rest to recover from grief. Sohreh, Pasithea, Oizys…I still think of them to this day.”

Il Dottore. He is an infamous figure in history, a priest whose sins rivaled those of Khaenri’ah. And yet even he was granted the mercy of death.

 “And there are the humans I was blessed to watch over,” you tell him, eyes shining with tears. “I remember all of their names, their smiles, every achievement they made in their short lives. And I’m sure that there will be more in the future.”

That is the final nail in the coffin.

“You are right.” With that, Pierro leaves the bed. “As such, there is no need for you to dwell on how the world is now. I have no doubt that many souls owe their salvation to you, ______, and anyone would be a fool to dismiss your efforts.”

“...Thank you. It means a lot.”

You don’t let him leave, however. A hand around his wrist is all it takes for Pierro to stop, to yield to your embrace. In the dim room, you are the only source of light, an idol of unparalleled benevolence. Divine, beautiful, yet never within his reach.

“Eight more years,” you tell him. In your eyes, his reflection has never looked more hopeful. “That is the amount of time we have left. And until then, I will never leave your side.”

*✧･ﾟ

♡ The next eight years are content. More travels. Deep conversations. Peaceful nights. Another angelic encounter, in which a subordinate merely reported to you and avoided Pierro’s gaze. At one point, you reveal to him that the Tree of Life is no longer in the human realm, eliminating any hope of breaking the curse. His devastation is softened by your comfort, and he can only imagine the reactions of his compatriots if they knew this truth.

♡ Not that he has anyone to share it with. In the Church of Fontaine, Pierro is surprised to recognize the head priest as a Khaenri’ahn. She is only a descendant and thus spared from the curse—a blessing for Arlecchino, a tragedy for her ancestor who likely mourned the generations between them. After their chat, Pierro leaves without divulging her lineage. It’s enough to know that one of his kind is leading a fulfilling life, though he finds it ironic that a Church ended up in a Khaenri’ahn’s hands.

♡ Other than her, there is the familiar face he spotted in Inazuma. Blond hair, blue eyes with star-shaped pupils, a distinctive half-mask…but before Pierro can approach Dainsleif, you grip his wrist and enable him to see the eagle-winged demon clinging to his former comrade. In a fearful whisper, you explain that she is one of Hell’s strongest demons, the slayer of countless angels. And when she turns in your direction, Pierro feels the weight of her crimson-gold glare. In the end, the two of you walk past them, preventing what could have been a bloody reunion.

♡ As your sabbatical reaches its end, Pierro finds himself making the most of your remaining time together. He smiles at you, holds your hand first, asks you more personal questions. Your travels also end in a surprise destination—a forest near Snezhnaya, concealed with divine mist. Leading the way, you explain that it was a meeting place for you and your closest siblings until they all perished, including the Virtue who created it. And when you turn to Pierro, asking if the area suits him…he accepts the gift with full gratitude.

♡ The last year is spent constructing a humble house in the heart of the forest. On the day of your departure, the two of you enjoy a final meal together. It’s bittersweet with recollections of your travels, though the mood dampens when Pierro asks about your angelic duties. With a sad smile, you tell him that you have a lot of work to do. At some point in your journey, you even laid eyes on a young human and applied for a position as their guardian angel.

♡ At midnight, Pierro goes to bed and you wish him good night for the last time. He only closes his eyes when you disappear, when he no longer feels your gaze on him, when the residual warmth of your embrace has been chilled by the night air. When he wakes up in the morning, you are nowhere to be found.

♡ In the following months, Pierro develops a new routine in the forest. Hunting, foraging, visiting the neighboring cities, admiring the aurora-colored sky, even practicing his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. He doesn’t see you again but there are hints of your visits—a luminous white feather, seeds for fauna exclusive to Mondstadt, a wound that healed overnight. Eventually, he gets used to sleeping in solitude again.

♡ One day, he decides to visit his old home. He knows it is futile to seek out his people; after two centuries, their bodies must’ve fully decayed and mixed with the soil. Still, he might as well see what the Church did with the area…and if he can take revenge on the traitor. So he packs his bags, leaves the forest, and travels to the other side of Snezhnaya.

♡ …There’s nothing left. When he reaches his destination, he finds a glorious city built over the mass grave of his people. Only the cold of eternal winter welcomes him back, but the entire city—the devout Snezhnayans, the stories of the city’s origins, the magnificent church in place of his old house—is unfamiliar. Not even the traitor remains. Perhaps they, too, were given a coffin, forever trapped below layers of ice and concrete.

♡ He gets an answer on his way back to the forest. Near the border of Snezhnaya, Pierro is ambushed by a group of heretics…and when he demands an explanation, their leader holds up a preserved eye, the pupil shaped like a four-pointed star. As their fight continues, Pierro deduces their motives—to achieve immortality using the flesh of Khaenri’ahns. It’s pure mockery to hear those fools refer to his curse as a blessing, but his warnings fall on deaf ears as he is outnumbered.

♡ Just as he is about to lose hope, a bright light shines above him. It’s you, in all of your angelic glory, commanding the heretics to let him go. Most of his attackers fall to their knees, in awe of your divine presence, but their leader interprets it as a sign that Pierro is truly the person they’re after. They swing their sword at him…only for their entire group to be impaled by your nails.

♡ It’s a bloody sight. But once your wrath has subsided, you fly down to Pierro and check his condition. You’re incoherent, healing his wounds with trembling hands, apologizing for your late arrival. He assures you that he is fine, only to be interrupted by a sudden ray of light. But this one is blindingly bright, coming from the sky, the same holy light which shone upon Khaenri’ah during the Cataclysm.

♡ It hits him just then: In harming those humans for his sake, you’d violated one of God’s orders. Yet in the midst of His divine wrath, you muster a false smile and tell Pierro to go home. Then you fly up into the sky, disappearing above the clouds along with the holy light. He does as he is told, but not without killing all of the heretics to ensure that they won’t come after him or more Khaenri’ahns. As for the traitor…he doesn’t bother to ask for their location.

♡ The forest is the same when he returns. The next few hours pass by in a blur—unpacking,  checking the animal traps, cooking dinner, and so on. The whole time, he can’t stop worrying about you. He doesn’t know if God would listen to his prayers but he tries, anyway; it’s not like he can help you in any other way.

♡ He goes to bed early, only to jolt awake when a flash of light illuminates the bedroom. When he rushes to the window, it’s just in time to see a falling star. It shoots through the sky, outshining the auroras, a beautiful sight if not for the fact that it seems to be drawing closer to him. It disappears from his range of vision, followed by a deafening sound and a severe earthquake. Then the world falls silent, returning to its tranquil state.

♡ After a few minutes, Pierro leaves his house to investigate. Seeing how the meteor bypassed the divine barrier of the forest, he doubts it was a natural phenomenon. You once told him that the Fourth Order of angels, the Dominions, are in charge of the celestial bodies—could they have been ordered to destroy his third home?

♡ Thankfully, the destruction is limited to a crater at the edge of the forest. But instead of a meteor, he finds you curled up in pain. Fragments of your halo pierce your body. Your right wing is gone; all that remains of it are clipped feathers and sawed bone. Most prominent are the curved horns jutting from your head, covered in a mix of blood and torn skin. You became a demon.

♡ Your half-conscious cries prompt him into action. Carefully, Pierro carries you to his house and treats your wounds. When he notices your hand on your stomach, he remembers what you said about demons needing food and sleep to survive. So he heats up some soup and feeds it to you; and once your hunger has subsided, he tucks you in bed. In your delirium, you can only muster a single sentence before falling asleep.

“Pierro? I’m sorry…it’s my fault, not yours.”

“Silence. We may talk tomorrow. But tonight, you must rest.”

♡ That night, you sleep for the first time. Pierro watches you all night, checking your pulse every so often. When you wake up, the sun is high above the sky and Pierro has already cooked lunch. You’re more coherent now, able to feed yourself, though you wince in pain every so often. And when Pierro asks about your descent, your expression darkens.

♡ In a shaky voice, you explain that the heretics’ ambush had been a test from God. It was fated to occur at the same time as an important event in Heaven, the decennial meeting between God and the leaders from all Nine Orders. As soon as Pierro’s name was brought up, you were quick to defend him. And when you were informed of the attack, you stormed out of the meeting to save him, fully aware that it would bring about your downfall.

♡ And despite it all, you’re the one apologizing to him—for your late arrival, for the danger he was put through, for the “burden” of taking care of you. At the last part, Pierro finally finds the words to chastise you, to say that you won’t achieve anything by wasting your tears on Heaven.

“I wish you would not think so lowly of me. After all these years, do you truly believe that I would harbor anything but gratitude towards you?”

♡ That shuts you up. For the next few weeks, you meekly accept Pierro’s care—he cooks for you, dresses your wounds, lets you sleep in his bed. There is only one problem: Your body refuses to heal. Blood continues to seep from your wounds, and you’re in a perpetual state of pain. Still, he faithfully tends to you day and night. It’s the least he can do for you.

♡ One day, he leaves the house to pick fruit and comes back to find a dark silhouette in his bedroom window. He rushes inside, armed with a weapon, to find a demon. Only, they’re kneeling by the bed, holding your hands, shedding tears of joy. That is when he notices the bloodstained scars on their hands, their tattered veil, your kind words for them…they, too, are a fallen Archangel.

♡ All peace, however, is dashed when your former subordinate tells Pierro that they are bringing you “home,” in other words Hell. As for the matter of your health, they claim that while your divine punishment is unheard of, they should be able to find a cure…from Il Dottore of all people. And despite your conflicted expression, it’s clear that you are seriously considering their invitation. Only for Pierro to take that choice away from you.

“And what makes you believe that I would allow ______ to leave our home?”

♡ Prior to you, Pierro never would’ve dared to challenge a spiritual being. But now, after all he’s been through, he takes a step forward and tells the demon to leave. It doesn’t take long for their argument to turn physical. But before the demon can smite him, Pierro defends himself with his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. They’re a formidable opponent, however, and the fight continues until he aims a galaxy-like aura at their heart. Quickly, you protect your former subordinate with a shield of rusty nails, only for the element to refract and hit you instead.

♡ Much to everyone’s relief, however, it has a different effect on you. Your feathers take on a black tint and a deep blue iridescence. The same thing happens to your horns. Most importantly, all of your wounds close up, leaving scars identical to Pierro’s cursed marks. And when he rushes to your side, asking if you are all right, you breathily tell him that you feel so much better.

♡ That is what convinces the demon to leave, but not without promising to return once they’ve informed the Devil. With peace restored in your home, the two of you go downstairs for lunch. You still need Pierro to support you, but it’s the first time you’ve managed to walk in your new form. And your appetite is bigger, healthier compared to your previous portions.

♡ After a few days however, the effect wears off. Your body loses its blue luster, your feathers fade to their original color, your pain returns. Once you’ve fully reverted to your original state, Pierro decides to try out his Khaenri’ahn sorcery again. This time, he holds your wrist and carefully channels his power into you…and it produces the same healing effect.

♡ For the sorcery which doomed his nation to save the life of his beloved…the irony leaves him at a loss of words, on the verge of laughing. But it does explain why you landed in Pierro’s home instead of Hell, and why God allowed the two of you to reunite. The knowledge brings a dark smile to his face. You’re at his mercy now, dependent on him for all eternity.

♡ When he faces you, he can tell that you’ve reached the same conclusion. Still, you entertain the thought of moving to Hell—surely, there must be a way for you to live without forcing Pierro to expend his energy on you. That is when he grips your hands, pulls you towards him, and tells you that you aren’t leaving him. If the two of you are truly fated to suffer, then it is only right that he returns all of the love you have given him.

♡ It’s easy to persuade you. After all you’ve experienced, you’re tired so you just nod and lean into his embrace. And in the following days, you slowly adjust to your new life. You help Pierro around the forest. A new bed is built, to fit two people. At night, the two of you engage in your usual bedtime conversations but you’re the one who falls asleep first.

♡ When your former subordinate returns, Pierro stands his ground. With you asleep, he is able to fight them outside and easily subdue them; he even had the wisdom to enhance his weapons with blood from your used bandages. And with his argument that any attempt on his life is equal to risking yours, they have no choice but to accept your situation.

♡ You’re still asleep when he returns to your shared bedroom. Careful not to wake you, he changes out of his bloody clothes and leaves his sword on the table, next to his old mask. Then he takes off his glove and traces your features with his cursed hand. And when you open your eyes, the look he gives you is one of pure hope.

“Pierro? What time is it?” you mumble.

“Far too early,” he replies. “Go back to sleep. I will join you shortly, ______.”

“...All right.” Yawning, you snuggle into the pillow and close your eyes. “Can you wake me up later? I don’t want to oversleep again.”

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “If you wish.”

It doesn’t take long for you to return to the world of dreams. Your sleeping face is truly a wonder to behold—an expression so tranquil, well-rested, vulnerable to his kiss.

“And when you awake, I want you to tell me your true name.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Dainsleif

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

..…Don’t ask me how Pierro ended up with the highest word count in this AU. All I can say is that it was very cathartic to make him suffer, which is a recurring theme in his fics. If y’all enjoyed his story, do let me know (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Also, soft launch for the next couple + story!! I’m rlly excited to write for Dainsleif, and just know that he’s in for a lot of surprises <3

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @naraven @euniveve @stickyspeckledlight @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @mistymem0ryy @lazyroseart @teabutmakeitazure

[toysrguts]

smiling friends headcanons!! :D

i have smiling friends brainrot

allan:

•wine is his de-stresser. after a long shift he likes to go home and sip on a glass of wine while watching shit TV like some kind of cool guy

•doesn't smoke cigarettes often but will bum one off of charlie sometimes during their breaks

•bites people he loves :)

•perhaps his dr. monsters appointment with dr. monster was an appointment to assess him for OCD

•very very particular about the way he likes things and hates unexpected change in his routine

•also a math god he's like a walking calculator

•always helping other people reach things that they cant

•he has to be like 6’3 or something probably

•autism be damned my boy can work a grill (he can cook really well)

•in fact hes often the one cooking meals for the other smiling friends

•he also lovessss to garden its one of his favorite hobbies

•he grows his own vegetables to cook with and flowers to decorate his home :)

•i feel like this man would get down to some queen or duran duran

•he’ll listen to pretty much anything but i feel like he would gravitate towards 80s classics

•used to own a car that he loved but it broke down and he never bought another one

•went to school for engineering and started volunteering at smiling friends after graduating as kind of a placeholder job, but loved it so much it became his full time job

•cheese is his safe food

•had to wear glasses when he was younger but felt like they deterred the ladies so he switched to wearing contacts

•probably drinks black coffee like a fucking freak

•either that or he adds oat milk

•hes pretty anxious and freaks out a lot and will also snap if he has sensory overload

•wears noise canceling headphones a lot cause too much noise drives him insane

•HATES fabric touching his skin but will still wear a tie cause “it’s classy” and will wear clothes if hes out in public

•once took a trip to france and almost didnt come back cuz it was like cheese heaven

•goes clubbing during some of his nights off and is a karaoke GOD

•also goated at chess and gets heated during a game of scrabble

charlie:

•definitely sneaks a cart into work every day

•if allan didn’t cook this dude would go into debt from ordering takeout every day

•was raised mostly by his uncle cause his parents werent always around, and they're more like really good friends now that hes older

•grew up poor and had a pretty hard childhood overall but he doesn't dwell on it too much

•relieves his stress and frustration by terrorizing people in fortnite lobbies

•the smiling friends hq is air conditioned 24/7 per his request, he's heat sensitive and sweats EXCESSIVELY

•uses axe body spray to mask the stench

•his living conditions are depressing to look at, the only furniture in his apartment is a mattress and an old camping chair he borrowed from his uncle years ago

•also probably owns a shelf dedicated to lego builds

•he spends like 90% of his time in his bed if not working

•his morning routine consists of waking up disoriented asf, throwing on some clothes laying on the floor, forgetting to brush his teeth and walking out the door

•was exposed to shock sites wayyy too young

•acted out and got in trouble a lot in his adolescence but now just likes to keep to himself for the most part

•believe it or not he was baptized as a baby

•started caring about life a little more ever since experiencing hell

•feel like he likes music his uncle showed him as a kid, maybe judas priest and whitesnake type shit

•doesn’t even have to say anything when he goes to salty’s cause hes a regular and they know his exact order

•thats a bisexual man if ive ever seen one

•the hat hides his receding hairline lul

•has a fat ass surgical scar on his nose from when james ripped it off

•wears the same beat up white adidas shoes and got in highschool

•owns one of those “dubstep, weed and jacking off” shirts

•hes an only child but pim is like a brother to him

•had a family dog growing up and is a dog person overall

pim:

•begs to play roblox when anyone else is playing video games in the office

•curls up into a ball when he sleeps

•also will freak out without a night light

•his room is definitely littered with stuffed animals

•grew up watching mlp (g1) and probably still owns some pony figures

•and says “hello everypony!!” when entering a room

•played a LOT of browser and flash games as a youngster like club penguin and moviestar planet

•genuinely finds beauty in everything i wish i was on his level of joy and whimsey

•would totally listen to vocaloid and would totally go on a super long tangent about how its so cool and holograms are so cool

•also has a collection of light sticks and miku plushies and definitely kisses his miku poster goodnight

•i feel like he ate paint chips as a child

•craves social interaction cuz his parents had a rocky marriage and were neglectful and his sister treated him like shit when they were kids

•his sister would tug on his nerve ending when she got annoyed

•having a rough upbringing and dysfunctional family is what pushed him to start working for smiling friends, hes genuinely passionate about making people smile and just wants to help people who are in bad situations like he was

•prone to panic attacks :(

•sings little songs to calm himself down

•flails his arms or jumps around when hes excited

•still uses pool floaties when swimming lmao

•also still loves to dress up and play pretend as an adult

•mmmmm loves sweets what is a nutritious meal?????

•wore glasses growing up but just kind of stopped for some reason probably cuz his eyes are fucking massive

glep:

•chronic cyberbully-er

•tells people to kts in his gibberish language when they annoy him

•has most likely caused several wars across the globe

•puts whatever he wants on the tv and then hides the remote and watches everyone fight over who took it

•small but lets out the most diabolical burps imaginable

•is fluent in every single language on earth and probably space too

•absolutely brainrotted from that ipad he wont stop watching skibidi toilet

•unties peoples shoes when theyre not paying attention

•little guy has never known sobriety in his life

•has so many random ass pictures and videos saved on his tablet

•hes like a little vlogger

•if someone says or does something he doesnt like he’ll probably hire a hitman on them

•definitely has access to the deep web

•hates gardening but will help allan out with it once in a while for something in return (like a grilled cheese or some weed or something)

•also will sit next to allan while hes cooking so he can eat all the scraps

[hellishfig]

just finished listening to episode 34 of worlds beyond number, "something to remember you by," which is the end of arc 3 of the wizard, the witch, and the wild one, and i feel sick from how incredible it was. the physical reactions my body made to some of the words and music in this podcast really took me by surprise. i'm still reeling.

some thoughts:

i'm so happy that suvi is questioning the citadel, her reaction to silver's letter was inspired, and i LOVED her interactions with the quartermaster. she's so clever and intimidating (holy shit that was HOT), but i'm worried about what's happening to silver. i have an inkling that the witches may have already started making moves alongside the man in black, and i wonder how that will affect suvi going forward. and going to try and save silver before returning their "precious cargo" to the citadel... i hope suvi can keep questioning, and that whatever she faces, she doesn't let the justification machine run its course any longer.

eursulon meeting up with tefmet was really cool. i enjoyed the return of the strongest man in silbury immensely. it was extremely funny. and then, when eursulon asked to help and succeeded on his persuasion checks, it was solemnly touching. i love eursulon's power being in steadfast support and protection, and how to him, it's not about opposing the citadel in its entirety, it's about saving spirits, great and small, from those who would use them. and that's something he can do while still protecting his true friends.

ame let the chaos OUT this episode, and it was delightful and nerve wracking and thrilling to listen to. she's very bossy and it's so funny to hear how immediately eursulon goes along with it, despite not knowing what "it" is. growing up watching grandma wren, she seems to have gained a natural authority that makes people who love her listen to her when she asks them to perform innocuous menial tasks. but that's also interesting, because her chaos is focused, if imprecise. she knows what she needs to do and will do it, damn the consequences. as long as she can get away, who cares what she leaves in her wake? that's a problem for future ame.

they stole some brass knockers and a lion! they kidnapped nif to save her from being killed by indri! tof burned bright to free a vrock! suvi heads to war, eursulon and ame TO TOMA! (i almost cried when eursulon said those words and the music swelled. what the fuck, lou. what the FUCK taylor and jared. i'm not okay!!!)

and then of course, brockvale. holly hill. the resting place of sir curran of the hawthorn, who unknowingly sent eursulon on a quest that would lead him to our story. the man in black, the pilgrim under stars, the king of knight, the stranger, holds sir curran's shield. he comes to make an offer. will this poor old guard bid a weary traveler to step over this threshold?

this is why worlds beyond number feels so different to me from other dnd shows and podcasts. these artists have come together with the shared goal of not just playing a fun game that they all enjoy, but with the express aim of crafting a brilliant story. i love a goofy campaign full of shenanigans as much as the next person, but i adore how every choice in this show is given weight and meaning. there are no decisions made for laughs. it doesn't feel like playing a game. it feels like living in the story.

and there are also moments like the ending of this episode. a snapshot of elsewhere in the world, something the players don't know, but the audience gets to. it fills out the edges of the story and provides a richer tapestry of lore and reasoning behind the machinations of those who oppose our heroes. it gives life to the tale.

my heart is beating so fast. this show is incredible. thank you, @worldsbeyondpod , for the world you're creating.

[rosakuma]

The Defense of one suspect and reasoning why the other one is sus(big spoilers for ep14 of DRDT)

Okay so with the huge reveal in the latest episode, we had a big revelation that we are down to two people who could be the killers. This post shall be a heavy discussion of that, so if you haven’t check out the latest episode, please go watch it before continuing to read(thank you!) Also warning: This is very long so prepare yourself to read for awhile if you can or want to.

Those being Eden or Ace. These two are picked as the murders due to both being connected to Nico’s murder attempt on Ace's account of being there. As for why, it’s because only those two could see the murder scene and gain access to the most important part of the crime scene, the tape. I’ve seen both parties talk about why their respective theories on which one did it before this episode. And while I can’t guarantee who I believe is innocent is not the culprit or vice versa, I wanted to share why I don’t believe Ace is the killer. Which would leave Eden as the culprit(unless we get another twist that there was someone following her). I’m going to go point by point with my reasoning. It probably won’t be perfect, but hey. If no one going to try to defend Ace, then I will(poor dude needs it, like seriously it’s so sad he has no one in his corner).

Reason 1: The crime scene + tape

As Teruko concluded, the culprit is connected to Nico’s murder attempt and tries to reuse that method to kill Arei. We know for sure Teruko is not the killer obviously from seeing her POV+ no motive to do so. When we get to the murder scene, we see that before Ace gets up, Teruko and Eden have enough time to look around at what happened. While Eden tells Teruko she needs a minute to process this, for all we know Eden could’ve been scanning the room still or maybe even listening to Teruko’s explanation.

Right as Ace gets up, he’s in pain and yelling while knocking Eden to the ground. He then grabs onto his neck from it stinging in pain.

After Teruko questioned him on what happened, he explained Nico tried to kill him(which he would know it was Nico before being knocked out again since Nico verified that he woke up struggling from the fan before going unconscious again when he hit the floor). To which to add to this, Ace at this moment must’ve been trying to get the wire off of his neck while getting a glance at Nico before he caused the fan to fall down and knock him back unconscious.

He then bolts out of the room to go find Nico to kill them. Afterwards, Teruko and Eden are greeted by MonoTv who has to clean up the scene and then kicks them out. They both go after Ace, who after talking with Teruko, Eden, and Levi, goes into his room for the night.

Now this could arguably be either him or Eden who grabbed the tape. But let’s think about what happens here. Ace wakes up in pain after being unconscious, immediately tries putting pressure on the source of his pain, and then runs out of the room trying to find Nico which is on his mind. Ace didn’t have enough time to absorb what was happening to process what Nico did to him along with grabbing the tape. But Eden however? She had a few minutes to look around the scene and was even knocked down onto the floor. And what was on the floor before that happened? The tape. (Also ignore the pony reacting to the tape being missing, I just wanted to draw my sona reacting to it for fun)

Another important detail to this is that MonoTv kicked Teruko and Eden out of the gym to clean it up.

To which it stated “I kept the gym closed overnight to make sure everything was super dry. Don’t want you slipping and falling into my chemical cleaning brews!” Meaning no one would’ve been able to go back and grab the tape or see the crime scene before it was cleaned up. So at that moment if our potential killers wanted to get that tape for murder, it would have to be right at the moment Teruko and Eden entered and caught Nico. Ace only had one thing on his mind, which was finding Nico. So he would not have picked up the tape. Plus we have to keep in mind that Ace acts on his emotions rather than logic(basically he ain’t that smart). Bro was willing to kill Nico(even though the complications of what would happen if he did it) without stopping for a moment to realize what happened nor to let himself calm down. I doubt he thought of a complex idea to copy Nico’s murder on the spot like that. While Eden on the other hand, our little clockmaker would probably be able to understand the mechanism of this murder in a matter of minutes since she’s used to having to build and work with parts running in motion.

Reason 2: Eden’s behavior, the note, and the timing of Alibi

Eden’s behavior across this case has been strange to me on rewatch. When going to the moment when they found Arei dead. Whit tries to cheer up Eden who is sad and crying over Arei dying. Immediately afterward switching up in saying she’s fine and just needs to deal with it. Even being peppy of saying “I’m super ready to investigate! I’ll do everything I can to help find Arei’s killer”.

She then tries to investigate with Teruko before she rejects her out of worry she could be the killer. Eden still tries to follow Teruko after this and overhears her talking to Charles, Whit, and Rose about the note. We know the note does have Eden’s name and was written to Arei to come meet her at the playground.

Now the logic was brought up of why would Eden try to help resemble the note when that would incriminate her to be the killer. Well, remember, pieces of the note were missing, with the key part being the time on whether it’s “PM” or “AM”. This evidence must’ve been important for Eden to get to prevent anyone from knowing when the murder takes place. Since Arei’s murder was confirmed to have occurred at 7:30 am due to her swinging. We know Eden doesn’t have an alibi for the morning. Only at night around that time she does.

Even the nighttime alibi I argue could’ve not prevented her from getting the fish due to the time frame of when her alibi is and the relaxation room. Eden claims around 7:30 pm that she was cleaning up dinner with Hu, right around when people thought it was the original murder time. Nico claimed after dinner, they went to feed the fish and then left afterward without seeing anyone. We know the relaxation room closes at 10 pm.

To which I purposed that Eden would’ve had enough time to get the water before it closed and after Nico left. Nico didn’t keep track of what time they fed the fish right? So for all we know they could’ve finished up dinner early or around 7:30 pm, left, and fed the fish. I doubt it took Eden and Hu that long to clean up dinner, so she could’ve slipped and gone to the relaxation room before 10 pm to receive the fish. Now yes you can still apply this to Ace of doing this still too, but I just wanted to point out that Eden could’ve still done it within the time frame. Eden if she was the culprit, she would wanted the note to be vague originally to make them think it was around 7:30pm as around the time of her alibi with Hu so no one would think of any suspicious on her possibly preparing for Arei’s murder for in the morning. Which would by default make someone like Ace who has no alibis at nighttime and the morning seem more suspicious than her who has one at least during nighttime. Thus why she came over to help repair the note as while it would make her seem suspicious of restoring it, she could argue with someone trying to frame her and that “Why would I help repair something that would incriminate me!?”

Reason 3: Evidence that doesn’t add up with Ace.

The evidence that confuses me with Ace being the killer is the starch ball and the turpentine. The starch ball most fans have concluded is turpentine, which was used for the clothes to stick them together. The thing is we don’t know the exact use this has in the murder case. But that isn’t important for this yet, what is important is where it came from. Charles found the ball in the dress-up room formed by Teruko and Hu’s old clothes.

The clothes were left in the dressing room. Meaning the murderer must’ve known about this outfit change occurring in there. We see suspiciously later that before Nico’s murder attempt, Eden was already there when Teruko went to that room. Eden claims she heard about the outfit change from Hu and went there to receive the new clothes for her and Teruko.

Eden at this time could’ve easily gotten hold of Teruko and Hu’s old clothes to use. Not to mention, if we assume that Eden was going to plan to kill Arei(just maybe didn’t have a set method yet), their conversation between them of Arei promising to be Eden’s friend happened before she came here.

As for Ace, when at any point was he in the dressing room? He wasn’t there when Teruko, Hu, and Whit had outfit changes or after it. So I’m confused about where Ace could’ve known about the clothes and got them to form the ball. And the ball has to be important as otherwise why is it there? It needs to be used for some part of the murder we haven’t figured out(my guess is it was used to knock out Arei) as I doubt the Dev would’ve just added a useless piece of evidence(even in DR there wasn’t evidence that was useless or not used). The only thing I’m confused about is how Eden got the turpentine, but idk how Ace would’ve either.

Reason 4: Fricken David

Okay I know this is David we’re talking about here and we know he’s a lying scumbag who tried manipulating everyone into committing mass suicide to follow in what he thinks Xander wanted to do to end the killing game. But I don’t think he’s lying about seeing Arei first. As much David trying to get everyone killed here(which causes more doubt of agreeing with J on he could be lying AND putting the idea into Teruko’s head that “Oh you want to distrust others, it’s the only thing you can do” which would motivate her into trusting Eden), I think he’s serious about Arei. If David truly didn’t care about Arei, then why were we shown that flashback that continued off of the conversation Arei and David had that Ace overheard?

David thought back on that moment when Arei confided in him that she was relieved they were the same and that maybe they could be friends while learning to be less shitty together. He even lied to Eden that nothing else happened because he didn’t want to share that moment or possibly give despair to Eden about what happened between them.

Even before when he had his fake persona on, the way he reacted about Arei dying and in the trial of his feelings towards the killer…I feel like it’s one of the rare times he’s being genuine about his feelings here. Arei was someone who understood him and could’ve helped him as a friend…to only lose her the next day. Of course, he’d be pissed and upset. I can even believe he did see her first because in disbelief or upset that he lost the only person who truly knew and understood him. Following I wrote out the dialogue word for word of the scene where David describes how Arei could’ve fallen for the note, him showing disgust for the killer, and even Eden showing regret in thinking this(which before we thought was just about the note, but now…she might’ve meant that as “I killed Arei and all she wanted to do was change…but I didn’t give her that chance….it is my fault”).

David: What kind of person would fall for such an obvious trap? You’d have to be shortsighted, naive, foolish, senseless, downright idiotic.. Unless, of course, you were Arei

David: That girl wanted desperately to prove herself as a “friend” to Eden. And yet she completely lacked any experience with what “friends” were actually like.

David: Of course it never occurred to her that handling out suspicious notes was something that normal people did. What could she know about “friendship” after all? Someone like her, who had not once experienced kindness in entire her life up until now?

David: Even if she had her misgivings about something so suspicious, she must have pushed it aside due to her unwavering faith in her blossoming friendship. A friendship that she didn’t understand in the slightest.

David: It’s…it’s so…Ahaha. It’s just so foolish. For someone to take advantage of Arei like that….

David: It’s absolutely unforgivable. All she wanted was to change. What a reprehensible person this killer is. I look forward to seeing their painful execution.

Eden: …So then…It really is my fault…isn’t it? She died because she believed in me

With David’s expression throughout this entire scene even if this was before he revealed his true colors. It shows signs of his true self and how much he really loathes the person who killed Arei. He knows personally that she wanted to change and that she understood him. There’s no way by now he’s making it up that he didn’t see her body with knowing how much emotion he has in his facial expression and dialogue in this scene. It also really doesn’t help Eden’s case of seeming so regretful after this.

Reason 5: The theme of the chapter overall

Okay, so I think ultimately to me at least, why it doesn’t seem like Ace would fit as the culprit of this chapter is due to its theme. The theme is “There are no good or bad people” and “Everyone is not always what they seem”. We see throughout this chapter that every character we thought was a “good person” is slowly showing their flaws and even turning out to have some darkness in them.

We thought Levi was just an awkward guy who wanted to be helpful to others around him, turns out he killed 4 people(one is his dad) and barely remembers it because no one he cares about as the concept of caring for others is foreign to him and he just tries to copies others to try to be good. Nico seems like a shy person who struggles to defend themself from bullies like Ace. Nico then literally tries to murder Ace and almost does, while admitting(with regret) that they did try to kill Ace because Ace reminded them of their traumatic past with their peers, teachers, and father. David is the biggest example of someone we thought cared about giving inspirational speeches to others to turn out to be a manipulative jerk who might be suffering from depression(if he was telling the truth which I think he was to some extent). Even others had their moments too with Arturo being revealed to have guilt over his sister dying because he left and threatening Eden to keep it secret, Veronika only doing her talent to prevent herself from self-harming her, and even Hu showing her flaws of trying to be useful and letting her ego get the best of her in defending the wrong people.

So looking at both of our two culprits, Eden fits to be the main culprit. Before all of the reveals and Arei’s revelation about good and bad, I felt like the characters were categorized into two groups. The “Saints/Good people” and “The jerks/irredeemable ones”. Like what Arei said, she thought people like Eden and David were the ideal good people to look up to or to be, while someone like her who had a rough start and ended up as a jerk cannot ever be good. To assume that means not seeing any of the other cast people as people generally can either be good or bad or even neither(morally grey).

We see the flaws of who we thought was the ideal good or potentially good person of David, Hu, Nico, or Levi while seeing there’s more than what meets the eye to the jerk group of Arturo, Ace, and Arei(the triple A battery squad lol). Eden is the only person left in the cast we haven’t seen(not counting her being responsible for Xander’s eye as only us the audience seen that) whose main flaws or her status as a good person is broken. I’m not saying Eden has to be the culprit to reveal she was secretly evil all this time! But she has to be the culprit because she has yet to be shown as human as Arei is. Ace started as a jerk and while still is, we get hints and see how his situation is a tragic one. Like Arei, he probably had a bad start in life or before this killing game that affected him. His worst enemies are himself and the others, he has no one to defend his side for who he is to them. Despite the fact, that he’s a victim of an almost murder attempt on his life and even a victim of an eating disorder that is eating away from his body and mind. Ace unlike Eden or Nico doesn’t have someone willing to defend him or speak up for him when in trouble. The one person he did think he had was Levi, but that was just a projection.

Eden on the other hand I feel like what’s not talked about her is her main flaw of being “weak” and relying on others.

Examples:

▪️Ep 9 when Eden says “Teruko! Back me up!” “You’re smart and you always know what evidence to use during the class trial so find a way to show everyone they’re wrong about Arei!” “Please! I’m relying on you!”

▪️Ep 10 when Eden says “If I was strong enough…If I didn’t need Arei to help me…” and Arei saying “Just as I thought, you’re pathetic and weak, and you always need to rely on others to get by”

In a sense, this parallels Nico who attempted to murk Ace because others had to pick up their battle and Ace called them weak for not being able to stand up for themselves. Eden for all we know might’ve gone through the same thing when Arei yelled at her and it resulted in her planning Arei’s demise. Like Nico, she probably regrets it now. But unlike them, Eden isn’t admitting to this flaw of being the cause of this situation and is trying to rely on others like Teruko to defend her from being accused of Arei’s murder. Even down to doing the same hug that Min did to Teruko previous chapter.

Another point to add is that with the previous points showing a bit of Eden showing guilt. I can possible see her main motive of killing Arei is because of not believing her at the time. Even Arei notes this in ep10

Arei: That look you’re giving me…You don’t believe me, do you? Figures.

Arei: I’ve been so shitty and manipulative this whole time. It’s only fair that you think I’m only putting on another fake act to make people like me.

Ultimately to fit what Arei said even someone as sickeningly sweet as Eden had done something bad, which makes her human. Eden I feel has to be the culprit as what would Ace fit in this? It would just feel like Arei’s words meant nothing and Ace was the irredeemable jerk the whole time who “got what he deserved” despite not having anyone to reach out to him like David did for Arei.

Hooboy that was long. Like I say this may not be perfect in terms of defense of Ace and might not fully cement Eden as the culprit. For all we know, there could be a secret third option. Plus there still isn’t a full explanation for some parts like how both parties got the turpentine or Eden’s stalker(tbh tho I could just see her being paranoid it’s Arturo and Bro is stalking J so). But I just wanted to share my piece as I think part 2 of ch.2 did make me see Ace in a different light and Eden too, to where I wanted to at least give Ace a defense the best I could because he doesn’t have anyone on his side. Along with highlight parts of Eden’s character I feel needs adjust for why she could be the culprit. Anyway, might make more post stuff on analyzing Ace or other parts of the case. If you have any thoughts, share them! As long we’re all civil and just having fun with this tragically emotional case, I’m happy to hear others' thoughts on who dunnit. Thanks for reading!^^