#i hope to god that we get to see so much more of this

[littleapocalypsekitten]

Hell buddies!

I think it's a misuse of your big platform to allow the spreading of transgenderism! We do not need those freaks on this earth

I need those freaks actually, and I'm going to use my platform to spread transgenderism like Judas spread his legs for Jesus.

[vettelsvee]

THE MOMENT I KNEW | Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: After a few races where he didn't get the results he expected, Max decides to go out with some friends to disconnect from everything. Unluckily, one of those days when he arrives home after having some drinks, he finds out that he missed his girlfriend's birthday as soon as he sees the cake she ordered on the trash ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe something angsty?? Like maybe bro goes out with his friends and forgets readers bday until he sees the cake in the trash can and realizes bro screwed up

WORD COUNT: 2007

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of being drunk, angst

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: I've absolutely loved this one my God. With this fic, we mark a total of 6196 words written this week (not counting my uni essays and other several projects), so I'm quite proud about that! Also, thank you so much for the support all this week, hope you liked all the fics! I'll be uploading this upcoming week's posts tomorrow. Let me know in the comments or on the anon inbox your thoughts on this one! See you next week :) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Max stumbled into your apartment, fumbling with the keys and opening the door with trembling hands, his pounding headache reminding him that it wouldn’t be this bad if he’d listened to the bartender’s advice to stop after the last gin tonic.

As soon as he stepped inside, he froze in the doorway, scanning everything as if it were his first time entering the place, even though he had been living there for nearly five years, the last two with you. He took a few unsteady steps toward the small entryway counter, where he dropped his keys and realized the silence was far heavier than he had anticipated.

His laughter, faint and fueled by the false sense of security that alcohol had provided, quickly dissipated. Taking a cautious step further into the living room, he noticed there were no lights on, no plates or leftover food on the small coffee table in front of the TV, and most strikingly, you were neither sprawled out on the couch watching one of the romantic movies you adored nor curled up asleep with one of your cats.

Despite the glaring signs, Max didn’t panic, at least not as much as he should have, even though something inside him whispered that the situation didn’t sit right.

It wasn’t until he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water and rounded the island that his foot stumbled slightly, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. Puzzled, he looked down to see what had caused him to trip. His heart sank when his eyes landed on a discarded box, its lid broken as if it had been thrown to the floor, angrily, on purpose.

That’s when reality hit him like a freight train.

He turned his gaze to the left, where the trash can stood partially open. Inside, he saw an untouched cake, decorated with intricate floral designs and a message that read, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!” The sight struck him like a blow to the chest, the pressure so intense it made him want to vomit.

“No… No, it wasn’t today…” 

Desperately, and trying to figure out what to do, Max ran his hands through his hair, as if that might somehow help him calm down. His breathing grew more erratic with each passing second, his eyes glued to the cake. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how he had managed to forget such an important date… you, his girlfriend’s, birthday. Something so obvious had suddenly spiraled into a waking nightmare.

He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he checked for any missed calls or messages from you, only to realize after several failed attempts to turn it on that it was dead. He blamed his drunkenness not only for not noticing he didn’t have his phone with him or that it was out of battery, but for forgetting such a meaningful day and breaking every promise he had made to you.

Deep down, though, he knew all the excuses were hollow. Any justification he tried to offer would be nothing but foolishness.

Setting the phone back on the counter, he decided not to waste any more time. He headed toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, and though the lights were off, he could make out your silhouette lying on the bed, your back turned to him. You gave no sign that you had noticed his arrival. The only sound in the room was your muffled, quiet sobs. As Max stepped closer, he saw you were clutching a pillow tightly, as if it were your only source of comfort.

That was the moment Max realized he couldn’t avoid facing the situation, no matter how impossible it felt to fix things right away.

“Y/N...” he said softly.

You didn’t answer, and your silence hurt more than a thousand words could have. Max knelt beside the bed, close enough to reach out, and gently began stroking your face. You didn’t resist his touch, but your indifference pierced him deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. “I swear this wasn’t my intention… I wanted to come home earlier, but Lando insisted we stay a bit longer, and then I didn’t have my phone…”

“You forgot, Max,” you interrupted, your tone sharp but laced with pain, anger, and sadness. You still wouldn’t look at him. “Goddammit, Max, you forgot my fucking birthday ever since the moment the clock struck midnight.”

Max fell silent. Once again, reality hit him square in the face, forcing him to acknowledge that anything he said would likely be inadequate. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to find the words to explain himself calmly, to admit his mistakes while grappling with the weight of his guilt.  

“You know it wasn’t my intention,” he began, his voice low. “It’s just… with the shitty season I’ve been having and everything that comes with it, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I just needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit, to clear my head…”  

“And you thought doing that on my birthday, after promising me a dream day, was the most appropriate choice?” you cut him off, finally raising your head. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, but I also know that until now, every promise you’ve made to me, you’ve kept. You didn’t just forget about me, Max. You left me here, alone, all day, like I didn’t matter at all.”  

Max searched desperately for a way to salvage the situation, to apologize, to do something, anything, to prove how deeply sorry he was. But when you turned on the light and sat up to face him, he realized he was out of options. He didn’t know how to continue without disappointing you further.  

“You know this has been really hard for me…”  

“Hard for you? Seriously?” you interrupted, leaning closer and pointing your finger at him. “And you think this has been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, never telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Not to mention your fans… They’re fully convinced that your shitty season is all my fault, that our relationship is ruining your career.”  

“Y/N, I know…”  

That was a lie. He didn’t know. Max had ignored the comments and criticism because, deep down, he believed you weren't to blame for his performance, especially when you rarely even went with him to the races anymore.  

“There’s nothing I can say to argue with you,” Max admitted. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I’m truly sorry. I love you, Y/N, more than you know…”  

“Are you sure you love me?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you love me, or your damn career? Because lately, it feels like your whole world revolves even more around cars, races, speed, adrenaline, and your constant need to be the best at everything.”  

“Hey…” Max tried, his voice faltering.  

“Every day, you show me more and more that we’re no longer a team… that I’m no longer a part of you. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”  

Your words hit him like a dagger, but he knew he deserved them.  

“It’s not just about you forgetting my birthday today, Max. It’s everything. You don’t listen to me… you don’t give me anything, not even a minute of your day, let alone affection or support. Why should I stay in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”  

Your words struck him like a bucket of ice water.  

“You don’t get it, do you?” you asked, frustration and sadness mingling in your tone as he stayed silent. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show me who you are, flaws and all. But you’ve always done this, Max, keeping me at arm’s length, never letting me into your life.”  

“I don’t do that, Y/N, it’s just that…” he began, summoning his courage to explain, but you cut him off once again.  

“Damn it, Max, yes, of course you do!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you realize that even though I’ve been with you, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Max, utterly alone! I’ve tried so many times to talk to you, to make you see that a few bad races aren’t the end of the world for someone like you, but…”  

You stopped yourself abruptly, your throat aching and your head pounding. You felt no remorse for the way you were speaking to him since he deserved every word, but you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness. Sadness for the Max Verstappen you had once known. A man who had been so proud of himself and his achievements after years of hard work, now emotionally shattered and, worse, so determined to hide it from everyone, including you.  

“I can’t keep giving you everything I have while you keep taking and taking, without giving anything back.”  

“I’m sorry…” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow.  

“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix anything, Max,” you replied, your voice quieter now but no less wounded. “I wish it were just about today, but like I said, I feel like you’re pushing me further out of your life with every passing day. You’re becoming a stranger to me, Max,” you admitted, trying not to let your voice waver. “You’ve been like this for months, and I don’t know what else to do to stop us from falling apart… though it feels like that’s exactly what you want.”  

“That’s not true,” he answered immediately, desperation in his voice. “Y/N, seriously, I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, tears welling up again. “Because I feel like you’re showing me the exact opposite.” Your voice trembled with the weight of her words. “Sometimes it feels like you love your career, the success you’ve achieved and the crowds chanting your name more than you love me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “You know I want to, but… I don’t know how to fix this anymore…”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some silent promise that would make you believe things between you could change. But Max’s words only made you realize that you had to stop thinking fantasies and start facing reality.

“Maybe you can’t fix it,” you confessed, the words breaking you from the inside. “I can’t keep going like this, Max… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Seriously, there has to be a solution…” he pleaded, his voice full of regret. “I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You turned to look at him, the pain evident in your expression. “Things won’t magically get better if you take me to dinner or buy me a million-dollar necklace to make up for today. That won’t fix anything, Max…”

“Y/N… Y/N, please… I need you…”

No matter how many times Max said those words, he knew that any promise he made now would be meaningless, especially considering how much he had already failed you.

Feeling that there were no more words left to say between them, you slowly got out of bed. You gathered the few belongings you had on the nightstand and, with a sense of finality, began to pack a bag, all the while feeling Max’s powerless gaze on you.

“I can’t keep waiting, Max,” you said, her voice steady despite the anguish inside. “Today, no matter how much I tried to turn a blind eye, let it go, and even put myself in your shoes… This… everything… after many tries… God, Max, all of this… That was the moment I knew.”

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: household chores with them🩵

Featuring: Thanos( Su Bong) x Reader(f), Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f)

A/N: If you have ideas about what to write, you can always talk about it!

🩵🩵🩵

Thanos (Su Bong)🖤

Unfortunately, you can have quarrels literally every day because of this. After all, your boyfriend is still a "household disabled person". You have to force him to do something around the house, of course, heavy sighs and indignation will come in response.

Thank God that he at least tries to do it without mistakes.

It happens that you are at work, and he is at home all day. You ask him to wash the floors and do the laundry, of course he promises to do everything in the best possible way, but in the end he does nothing, because he forgot. That's when you get nervous and start yelling at him.

- Well, you promised to do it! You stayed at home all day! Why do I have to clean the house after work? - you said almost crying, because during the day you got very tired and hoped for your boyfriend.

- Don't cry! I just forgot, anything happens! I'll do everything now! - the guy answers you irritably.

- I'll do everything myself, mind your own business. - you were angry with him, so you didn't want to see his help, but he still followed you, taking you by the hand and sending you the room.

- It's my fault that I forgot. I'll do everything now. - and he really started to wash the floor and deal with the laundry.

Cho Hyun Ju💗

Living with this woman is a fairy tale. You immediately divided the responsibilities around the house. You took more cleaning, and she cooks (since food turns out very tasty). Sometimes you change tasks if some circumstances occur (some of you were detained at work, some of you got sick, and so on), but this absolutely does not bother you.

- Baby, don't make any plans for Sunday, please.

- No problem, but why? - you asked her.

- I want to do a general cleaning, and it will take a lot of time, but don't worry, after we do it, we'll watch the movie and eat something tasty. - she said, kissing you on the forehead.

Of course, you agreed, it wasn't a tragedy for you to do a general cleaning. After all, you will still spend the whole day with your Hyunnie.

Kang Dae Ho🩵

Living with this guy is a dream. After all, he was raised by four older sisters, so he is very attentive to you (well, straight by 1,000,000 percent). He is ready to do all the work himself.

- My love, I don't need to help, you'd better rest, you've been very tired.- he said when you volunteered to help him clean the closet.

- It's not fair! You're also very tired for a week, if I help, it will take much less time! - you were indignant, but it worked, although he agreed with a heavy sigh, but you rewarded him with a kiss on the lips.

Thanks to you, the cleaning took about two hours, so you decided to go for a walk outside, after all, the weather was very good.

Se Mi💋

When you moved in, you had a problem about who would do what household chores. After all, both of you weren't really good at cleaning or cooking.

- Maybe we'll do everything together then? Then we won't have any difficulties! - you suggested with a smile, to which your girlfriend gladly agreed.

- It's a great idea, sweet. We will look after each other, at the same time we will spend more time together.

Of course, you sometimes have small arguments, for example, that one of you did not clean up very well and seems to be a little lazy, but you solve them very quickly. After all, you have a good harmony in your relationship.

🩵🩵🩵

[ariaste]

hmmm I wouldn't call it either regression or "getting worse", because both of those terms feel misleading as to the actual cognitive science of what's happening. Basically, the way learning anything works is that your SKILL and your PERCEPTION are both leveling up, but they're doing so at different rates--and they usually alternate. Skill means... well, skill, your actual ability to execute a task. Perception means your assessment of quality (both yours and your own)--that is, your ability to see what mistakes you're making, your conscious intellectual knowledge of the tools available, etc.

There was a wonderful post going around tumblr many years ago about this which included a graph of this phenomenon, but I have no hope of finding it bc tumblr, so I will describe it: Picture the two intertwining lines that make up a DNA strand. Put it at a 45 degree angle. Label one line Skill, and one Perception.

First, Skill levels up, but Perception is at a plateau. When the Skill line rises higher than the Perception line, you hit the phase of going, "Omg i'm the best writer who has ever lived?????? I'm a genius? Holy shit ME!!!!"

Then Skill plateaus for a bit, and Perception starts catching up. When the two lines intersect, you're at a phase of, "Hey, I'm not the best or worst but I'm learning a lot and I'm having a pretty good time, even when it's kind of hard or tricky! :)"

Then Perception rises past Skill, and you get, "Actually??? This is garbage??? This is true garbage? No one has ever been kind enough to TELL me that it is garbage? How did I suddenly get WORSE? I used to know how to do this!"

Deep breath. You do still know how to do this. You have not LOST anything, you have not gotten worse. It's just that your eyes are sharper and your knowledge and experience are broader, so now you're noticing things that you didn't notice before. It is uncomfortable and it feels disheartening (god, I know it feels disheartening), but this moment is what kickstarts that next big jump in your Skill level so that line starts rising again instead of continuing on a plateau.

"I'm the worst ever" is just as much of an illusion as "I'm the best ever." It just feels more real because the human brain is primed to believe negative things more often than it believes positive things. But in actuality, it is only in that brief split-second when Skill and Perception are intersecting at exactly the same point that we see the truth and achieve a sense of Zen tranquility.

In short: It's gonna be okay. Promise. This is just growing pains. Deep breath, forgive yourself, and keep going.

please please please please reblog if you’re a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if I’m the only one who’s struggling with these thoughts

[sweetfictionalworld]

Distraction

Pairing: Seong Gi-hun x Female Reader

Requested by @queencvrdwv : hi girlyy, I just saw your request and I NEED a Seong Gi-hun x reader🙏🏽 Like idk, headcanons or maybe the bathroom scene from Season 1? I mean, Gi-hun is stressed after the first two games so Reader tries to comfort him and it leads to some lewd things in the bathroom😝

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Semi-public sex.

Author's notes: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it ♡

"Hey, are you okay?"

Gi-hun looked up at you and you could see the stress written all over his face.

"Hey, you did really well with that umbrella shape. I was really impressed," you said, trying to ease his troubled mind.

Gi-hun gave you a small smile. "Thanks, y/n."

You sat down next to him and saw him swallow hard and flutter his eyes as he glanced down at your arm touching his. God, he was so damn cute and awkward. Ever since he had taken you in as part of his group, you'd had a crush on him. And you suspected he felt the same about you.

"Do you maybe...want to get out of here for a bit? Distract yourself from all the horrible shit going on here?"

Gi-hun looked at you in confusion. You just smiled and stood up.

"I'm going to the bathroom. Maybe you need to go too?"

Gi-hun watched with wide eyes as you went over to the door and knocked on it. A few seconds later, one of the guards opened, and after a few persuasive words about being on your period, the guard let you outside. Gi-hun licked his bottom lip and pondered what to do, if your words really meant what he thought they meant. At last, his curiosity got the better of him and he stood up.

"Oh, Gi-hun," you moaned and grabbed his shoulder for support as you rode his cock in a soft and gentle pace, reveling in the feeling of him inside you.

Gi-hun groaned softly and stared at you in awe, at the pleasured expression on your face as you bounced up and down on his dick. Fuck, you felt so good, his cock moving so easily in and out of your warm and wet pussy. He reached underneath your t-shirt, beneath your bra, and cupped your breast, softly kneading the soft flesh gently, feeling your nipple harden from his touch.

You opened your eyes, palmed his face as you leaned down and kissed him.

Gi-hun kissed you back with eagerness, his lips getting greedier with each buck of his hips. It had been such a long time since he felt the comforting warmth of a woman, so long since he let himself indulge in the world of pleasure.

It didn’t take many more moments for him to come, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he grunted when his cock twitched and pumped his load inside you.

You followed in his path, the feeling of his swelling cock inside you bringing you over the edge with him. Grinding your hips a final time, you came with a soft moan as his cock throbbed inside you.

You giggled as you slumped down on his lap, and Gi-hun chuckled softly while gently caressing your hip.

"This was nice," you said and suddenly felt very shy, sitting there with his cock slipping out of you, followed by the slow dripping of his cum.

"It was," Gi-hun replied with a soft smile, and you could see he was feeling just as shy as you.

"I think we need to hurry, I'm guessing the guard is standing outside waiting for us," you said and stood up.

"Oh, right!" Gi-hun rushed to his feet, blushed as he quickly pulled up his pants over his cock.

You giggled at his cuteness and grabbed some toilet paper, swiftly wiping his cum off your inner thighs.

"Maybe...." You bit your lip nervously. "Maybe, we can meet up when we get out of here? Go on a date?" you asked and looked at him hopefully.

Gi-hun looked at you in surprise and then smiled cutely. "I'd like that very much."

Years after, Gi-hun would still think fondly of that single moment the two of you shared together.

[frownyalfred]

Arkham Prince AU (ignore if you wish, i just needed to get the exchange out of my head after reading the threads in your blog) :

------------------------

Harvey sighed and wished for the thousand time he was able to smoke in the room they allowed him to see Bruce as his legal council. His firm laughed at him, for taking on the pointless case of defending the undefendable, but they didn't know Bruce like he did. How he was before, what drove him to this.

"So you sent this man, to the infirmary. Unprovoked? Jesus H. Christ, Bruce."

The man in question remained standing, staring of the double glass windows, bars obstructing the view in more ways than one. If it wasn't for the chains tying his legs to the concrete and the ARKHAM on the back of his uniform, he would have passed as a unconcerned, everyday man.

"We can't even claim self defense," Harvey continued. "You-"

"He has cancer."

Harvey blinked at the non-sequitur, "What?"

Finally, the orphaned Wayne turned and faced him, face blank, unconcerned about how much more this action would add to his sentencing. Unconcerned except for the steel eyes seething yet holding back so much hurt.

Harvey remembered once again, with a small pang, why he had gotten a crush on Bruce in their college days.

"Nygma. He has cancer. The only way to get medical care in Arkham is by ending up in the hospital wing." Bruce moved with all the weight of the world on his shoulders and sat in the bolted chair across from his lawyer, and life long friend.

Somewhere in Arkham, an alarm rang to let staff know a super had arrived at the facility.

Harvey leaned back in his chair, "So you-"

"Sent him there to get treatment as he recovers from multiple rib fractures, humerus break, and left talus dislocated break. Rendering him non-weight baring. So he had to stay there."

His lawyer let his head hang in exasperation.

Outside the hall, a god like man was buzzed into the hall, two locked doors away from Bruce Wayne. The staff member behind a desk, glass, and bars, informed him he was with a visitor already.

Superman brow furrowed in frustration but he nodded politely and took a seat to wait. Deceptively human behavior. The staff didnt trust it.

"Bruce. There has to be a better way to have helped him. "

"Changing the prison infrastructure from inside my cell is not something I could do. /That/, sending him there directly to be treated, was what I /could/ do."

Bruce could see Harvey revving up to once again bring up the tired old argument, 'Why did you do it? Why kill those people?' 'Why not wait until they were taken in by the law?'

But they both knew there was no way the people guilty would have gone and stayed in prison.

"Don't," Bruce interrupted before the other could start, "You know why I had to do it."

Harvey blinked, and gathered the papers on the table, fitting them in a folder. Pointless papers, except for the monthly 'permission slip' Bruce signed for the charity funds to continue to go to the Martha Wayne Foundation.

"I know. And it gets me so angry, still. For you."

Bruce gave a small genuine smile, though his eyes remained the same - angry, sad.

"Thanks, Harv."

Outside in the waiting area, the super narrowed his eyes, witnessing the exchange, a curious yet odd feeling filling stomach at the scene beyond concrete and wall insulation.

Who was this man, to his- to the League's informant?

(Hope you have a good day! Thank you for indulging us by answering our asks! 👋)

Oh my god Harvey! Yeah, the inversion of Bruce visiting Harvey and Harvey visiting Bruce instead….Harvey never giving up on his friend, convinced Bruce didn’t mean it. I’m sobbing, of course he’d try to help, to look past it, to see the kind and caring man he once knew underneath. Maybe Bruce is protecting him in a way — Arkham has a gravity to it, it pulls in who it wants. And Harvey has always been a target in Gotham.

[just-some-random-blogger]

I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?”

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[yuurei20]

Hello YuuRei! Slight spoilers for Book 7 JP content below, if you don’t mind me asking! I saw Trey’s new Book 7 SSR get translated as both “Queen’s Court Chef” and “Queen’s Chef Coat.” I tried to look into it myself and learned that “coat” and “court” are the same (form what I understand, at least), so I was wondering if you knew which translation to go for, or is both technically correct? With Heartslabyul, honestly court works, too. Thank you so much and Happy Near Year! I hope you are doing well! ☺️

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! ♣️

You are correct! ^^ コート is both "court" and "coat"!

For a long answer:

Yana has done this before, with the Bloom/Broom series that is technically both the word "bloom" and the word "broom"!

We were never shown a romaji name for this series--it only appeared in katakana, where it is both words simultaneously--so if you were to ask "well yes but which one actually was it?," the only answer is: both!

This is one of those things that the Japanese language can do but English cannot, so EN was forced to choose one or another, and they went with "birthday bloom"!

And it happened again during White Rabbit Fes, when Epel says he has heard of someone called "ogama Duke" and Deuce begins to panic because "ogama" means cauldron.

But it also means "scythe" and Epel, who heard his information over the phone and never saw the word written down in kanji, assumes that it is the "scythe" ogama rather than the "cauldron" ogama.

More here!

For a super long answer:

The Japanese language has a lot of different words pronounced the exact same way and differentiated only by kanji: god (神), hair (髪) and paper (紙) for example, are all the same sound (kami).

This means there is a lot of potential for puns! And Yana has always been very big on wordplay, to the point that a pun was the entire basis for her kuroshitsuji manga:

There is a short comic at the end of the very first volume that shows a phone call between herself and her editor where she is telling him how she wants to create a manga about an amazing butler.

The Japanese language 「あくまで」 is used to emphasize that something is being limited or focused on something in particular, like 「あくまで執事ですから、私が決めることではありません」 (as I am only a butler it is not my place to decide).

It is also pronounced identically to 「悪魔で」, which means, "as a demon."

So in Yana's original manga series every time the demon character says "I am a demon butler" all the other characters are hearing it as "I am, ultimately, just a butler."

Since the characters can't see the kanji in his word bubble, he is technically saying both things simultaneously.

And similar wordplay is hidden throughout a large amount of Twst!

Rollo, for example, ends many sentences with a common way to end a question that is pronounced the same way as a word for "bell."

The very first line of Glorious Masquerade is that exact pun:

Kane no oto ga kikoeru kane

There is also Idia's "pretend I'm a bug and ignore me" (both "bug" and "ignore" are the same sound, "mushi"), Riddle's "Rose trees, tear his body apart!" (both "rose" and "apart" are the same sound, "bara") and more!

[shenqingqiuenthusiast]

My friend opened my eyes with his wisdom.

Shen Yuan came when Binghe was 14, and ever since then he was certainly less abused (sy cultivated for like 3 years after the skinner demon incident, the elders/hall masters/seniors? were in charge right? they couldn't possibly let ming fan take over) In the extras, his room has gems, so he was at least spoiled (positively) a lil. After the abyss, he didn't even really blame sy, he was just "why?" The reason he didn't come back wasn't even hatred or anything, just...wanted to prove himself to shizun. The 3 years in the abyss doesn't have the same impact on "Luo Binghe" character development as bingge, I think that period was like the hardship he has to endure to make up for the time bingge was abused on Qing Jing peak, which, you guess it, was 3 years.

However, his true "hell", the one that has the same impact as Bingge's endless abyss arc was probably when sqq died. Bingge has to endure 5 years (3 abyss 2 Huan Hua Palace as I remember) which was a REAL test to his mental stability (?) and skills, he was truly devastated. Bingmei was, ofc, but he still had hopes in Shizun. Bingmei was truly devastated in his 5 years w/o Shizun, as the extras stated. He was deeply blackened (kidnap ppl to feed the corpse qi, etc, the things bingge did almost right after the abyss), which is the true purpose of the "5 years" in "Luo Binghe" character development. I don't think the 3 and 5 are just coincidence.

So the conclusion? I think the character development path still stays kinda the same, it was just delayed. Like there is no way system/fate let them get off-script that much. (I'm talking abt the pin-points of the path, like mom died, abused and hardship, truly devastated (hell) -> blackened, yadeyadeyada, not their characteristics being the same, I won't write abt that today) However, in the end, their fates are vastly different.

I think that is kinda cool since svsss is a transmigration novel, and other characters besides cumplane are "fictionally fictional", like the fact that they are in a book is highlighted. It's kinda interesting to see how much they differ from their OG characteristics, while still having their core points (ex: Liu Qingge being righteous war god etc)

Feel free to correct me as my English is bad, some of my points might not get through the language barrier (the main points arrangement being awful, the way I write is confusing, etc) or to add more/contradict me.

I love svsss so much bcs of Easter eggs like this (or the fact the a lot of things are left unconfirmed or sth, we can make lots of theories or assumptions, analysis and hcs)

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[evolymynnhoj]

across timelines — johnny cage !

sum. seeing you again amidst armageddon overjoyed johnny, but, were you the you that he knew? whatever or whoever you were, all he knew was he was glad to see you alive.

author's notes. beyond pressing 'read more' – everything you'll read is purely fictional and based on the mind; spelling and grammar mistakes, spot them and get a price (aka my thanks), moreover, feedback and comments are highly valued! i hope you have a good reading experience. love, ian. ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅

tags ・・・ johnny cage x reader, character death, angst, hurt/comfort, very mcu gamora and quill coded. does not accurately follow the storyline of mk1.

word count ・5.9k

send an ask → find more on the navi → find more on the mortal kombat masterlist !

johnny was still in place, motionless, his breathing stopped.

seeing your body drop down the floor, hearing it thud. bruises and scars decorating your skin, and blood weeping from your body staining the floor scarlet.

he could swear he'd watched how the life force drained from your body and dissolved into the wind, all from giving your all in the war to subdue your own mother, or at least one who was a splitting image of her.

"Y/N!!" he'd cry out, snapping from his trance. he'd run to your disheveled state, everything around you faded to black. "y/n.. no.. don't .. stay with me" he would plead, breaths heaving in desperation, trying to find reason and sense, how does he end your misery. his touch was delicate, afraid of hurting you even further, his hand would caress the back of your head and he would bring your half-asleep body closer to him. "y/n.. stay awake.. liu kang.. he can help you.." he would try, he would try to convince you, to convince himself, just to keep you with him, to persuade you to stay.

"johnny.." a soft plea in your voice, barely conscious, you were losing too much blood at this point. black spots clouded your vision, if you weren't fighting tooth and nail just to stay awake you probably couldn't feel how heavenly it was to be held by the jonathan carlton this way. finally. was this all it had to take? for him to finally hold you close... to hold you so tight, to never want to let you go. agonizing as it was, you'd force yourself to lift up your hand to his face, faintly feeling his ease into your touch.

"i'm here, y/n.." he'd reassure you. nothing felt better knowing, you know he's here with you. a small smile fell on your lips, before gradually, your eyes began to close. brows furrowed, johnny started panicking. "y/n? y/n? hey, don't be like this— y/n, y/n wake up!" he'd try to shake you slightly, until he shaked you more. "Y/N WAKE UP!" he'd cry louder, but to no use... you were...

"NO!"

johnny jolted from his slumber.

... gone. you were gone. truly... gone. forever.

his shoulder slump, his morale and his energy on the down low. it was the middle of the night and he'd awoke from his nightmare to another, the real one, this time. he couldn't bring himself to sleep again, he'd thought of you endlessly that night, dreading the fact of his not being there for you, that night where you had gone. why wasn't he where you were? why wasn't he with raiden and liu kang, why couldn't he stuck with you, like he promised?

how could he have slept at a time like this... gods only know how. a creeking noise would play in the dead of night, alerting johnny who arose from where he'd lain. "johnny.." he called, glowing white eyes, solemn and hints of worry in his voice – the god of fire and thunder wasn't well on hiding the heavy weights on his shoulder – johnny thought subconsciously, above all his concern, was his own exhaustion, what possibly could liu kang be barging inside his room for?

"come.. we must go." the lord said, it was not a simple ask, moreso an obligation.

this was it.

the .. the thing he had promised months ago, though at this point, it's felt like years for johnny.. this was.. this was gonna be the thing that would change the arc of his life..

for the better?

nah, how could it be? when you were... dead.

and he couldn't have done anything to prevent it. hell, liu kang couldn't. so how's this for the better? if it's without you?

he shrugged the thought off, he has to focus on now, as he walked alongside valiant warriors facing up against those who cowered up those stairs that descended from the heavens down to this hellscape.

"let's fucking dance" he'd say to himself, bouncing up and down to pump up in preparation, jazz and all.

then it began ...

cacophonies of war cries echoed from above and from behind him as everyone charged at each other. it was fucking arma fucking geddon. johnny rushed to reach the top, kicking, throwing, and punching anyone in the face, gladly, in their nuts— who got in his way. everytime he did, that sweet killer smile grew on his face, brushing off the sweat and blood that adorned his skin whilst continuing his descent towards the skies.

he was well on his way, when something suddenly clung to his ankle and dragged him down a LOT. "fuck!" he cursed out before trying to get back up, seeing who this fucker was trying to come for him, he was having none of it.

it was...

him.

"well if it isn't.. me" the other johnny seemed almost taken aback seeing johnny,

"just gonna put this out there, i'm the sexy one." johnny would taunt at him even when he was slightly struggling to get on his feet but he found himself bouncing right again ready to take this son of a bitch who was another version of himself, the other would just scoff, "yeah? well i'm sexier." a smirk etched on his stupid face, he would regret that for sure, johnny thought.

the other would launch forceballs at johnny but his were red, it was nothing to our ol' jonathan – dodging it like the plague. punishing the other with a crushing blow to the sternum with his shadow kick. he would laugh at his other who'd fall on his ass, groaning in pain, he'd go back to running up where he was supposed to go.

he ran and ran like there was no tomorrow, because it really felt like there wasn't gonna be anymore. he threw forceballs at anyone who got in his way, not caring anymore, he was gonna get up there and stop this shit.

and he got so close, closer, and closer!

and.. finally, he was there.

wow.. that was.. easy.

he'd scoff at the absurdity, that proved to be a mistake– when he got knocked down a few the pavement of the heavens.

"ow, what the fuck" he kept cursing, everyone's out for him today, no, literally.

he was about to crush the son of a bitch who tried him without pulling back his punches this time, when suddenly his arm clashes with theirs and time is stuck and still, as his eyes gaze back to the same eyes he'd missed terribly.

"...y/n..?" a call to the wind, above a whisper but beneath a yell, his heart doesn't know whether to pick up its pace in absolute euphoria or to slow down and cherish the small time in seeing you again.

oh he was so happy... so happy, he'd let his guard down.. as you did, surprisingly.

"you're alive..." a revelation to him.

an even bigger revelation to you,

who was this man? and why was he looking at you like this? ... nobody, you don't know this creep. you're alive? when had you not been?

"more than ever." you'd say, before swiftly moving forward to knee him in the groin. he'd groan aloud from the heavy impact.

kung lao hissed imagining the agony johnny must've experienced, "hurt like a bitch" johnny described poorly, eyes down, almost as if he wasn't upset at it, finding humor in the interaction with.. someone who resembled you. he almost laughed, but he'd smile smally instead.

he knows. he knows that lookalike wasn't you, because he remembers the you he'd known.

and he had no intention of forgetting you, ever. because across all the timelines that existed, of all the y/n's and the johnny's out there.

to him, the only y/n that mattered was you. and he knows you shared that sentiment. he was wholeheartedly yours, just the same way, you were his.

he would mourn you, for life.

[feastingonchrist]

Amen!!!! This is what God has revealed to me. He is helping me with underlying layers of shame, embarrassment, insecurity perfectionism, fear, vulnerability - which all effect the way i interact socially. It's so hard to feel like i can relax and breathe in social settings and it stresses me out terribly. He also has highlighted another layer of abandonment issues and familial wounds stemming from the way my parents have treated me growing up until adulthood (like still to this day.)

He is letting me see through a tiny kaleidoscope, little moments of freedom, joy, and hope, and that has kept me hanging on. He has given me so much peace. I see the gospel in every situation. Celebrating Advent last year by focusing on hope, peace, joy and love each week, has helped me see the heart of the gospel. What God has to offer us as His children through believing in the gospel of Jesus Christ. It's so awesome and freeing, knowing that there is nothing i can do and the more i try to force things to "solve" the problems without God in it, i make things worse. But when i focus on Him during the trials, know that He wants to free me from bondage - bondage that He has already set me free from by making the path clear - actively saying no to fear and showing up anyways, repenting from that pride i have been feeling gently convicted of, by sitting and dining with Him and making Him my only source of hope and reliability..... I have been seeing so many breakthroughs in different areas!!! Ups and downs occur as a test of faith too, but i count those all joy!!!

i now get excited to go to church. i look forward to worship service and have lots of gratitude towards Him that it's a calm and peaceful place to worship that i have been searching for for so long. i look forward to talking to the people i know there and walk in a joyous anticipation and openness to interact with people. He is working on me being more free to open up, wanting to be vulnerable by creating genuine conversation and generating meaningful relationships. for giving me the heart to want to worship more freely and even sing along to the songs i know. i even am starting a new job there, too. i LOVE my church and the fact that everyone is so kind and connected. it even feels that way during worship, and when we recite the creed & Lord's Prayer. I just feel so full of joy and freedom and an overall sense of blessedness that i never knew was available to me. All i did was take a step of faith into my church last November - literally barely even two months ago, and ever since, He has been doing so much healing in my heart and mind. He is working rapidly in my church and i can see it!!!

so yeah!!!! i have learned the importance of dining with Christ and feasting on His goodness. Sitting at His table and letting Him feed me. He is our daily bread and the living water. We eat the bread and drink the wine in remembrance of what He did for us. We walk by faith, let Him lead us, and we produce fruits of the spirit that flow from within Christ in us. we eat of that sweet fruit and share the it with others and watch God put it back onto our plates yet again. He anoints our head with oil and our cups overflow. I love Him and am so grateful for His grace and love towards us!!!!! His words brings me peace and now joy. Just seek after Him continually and keep on praying. Let God take His time to see what He can do for you! i pray someone is blessed by this, amen <3

Thank you for sharing bc this inspired me to share some testimonies in my life as of late ♥*♡∞:｡.｡

When you start chasing after God, You'll find that the things you need will start chasing after you.

Matthew 6:33 "But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you."

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Next up are the stories where eddie does (or presumably will soon) yell at his parents! We love to see it (and are eagerly waiting and hoping for it to happen on screen soon)!

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 (diaz siblings reunited! All the buck, eddie, and adriana in the woods stuff had me on the edge of my seat and I can’t wait to read it all through when it’s published! Also eddie freaking out about his back nightmares coming true is really getting to me - poor guy!)

⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️ (oh boy an ominous warning from nemesis! I’m concerned! And seeing the accident that presumably killed eddie in the other timeline! I just want all three of my boys to get back home to LA so i can wrap them up in blankets together on their couch and feed them soup)

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 (how do i always forget about covid? It keeps sneaking up on me! But I’m loving the progression of buddieshannon - it seems like they’re getting close! And i really love the way you’ve created maddie and shannon’s friendship! It’s beautiful and it makes me laugh when i think about eddie and maddies completely no existent relationship in the show :p)

Also I’m curious (but obviously feel free to ignore if you want to keep the details to yourself), how far are these stories along in what you have planned for them? Cuz they’ve all come such a long way that I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re getting towards their ends, but you’re so talented at plot development that I know they could have so much more to come!

- PCA <3

Hey! Thank you - love this theme, too!

As to your last question - great question!

For Gentle on My Mind I am not sure. I planned it sort of like TWATYTK where I just sort of have things I want to reach and will write until I get there. But it won't be nearly as long.

For Firelight, I am well into chapter 7 out of 10.

For An An Angry Blade, I am almost done chapter 4 out of 6.

96 for 🌲 (Ahh thank you! Yes! Lots of angst!)

---

“Me believing it?” Eddie says. 

Buck nods. 

Eddie inhales. “Then why isn’t the rest of it gone, too?”

“Good question,” Buck says. “I guess it’s only one theory.”

“Worth… Worth keeping in mind,” Eddie mumbles, blushing. He feels embarrassed, all of a sudden. Like a princess in a tower.

Buck smiles a little lopsidedly. “Well, I love you.”

Eddie exhales and smiles back. 

“I know you do.”  

ii. 

They return Adriana’s rental car in the morning, and with Buck at the wheel of Eddie’s truck, they head towards El Paso. It’s going to be a long drive. With Eddie, anxious as hell about confronting his mother and seeing Chris. With Adriana and Sophia, who don’t seem to like him. All good stuff. 

Adriana is quiet. Buck has found her rather frustrating this entire time, but then he remembers what she’s been through, and it’s hard to hold it against her. Sophia, though? Buck’s not sure what her problem is. He hasn’t done anything to her. In fact, he’s kind of been important in helping both her siblings. No big deal. But she’s still pretty frosty to him today. 

It doesn’t really matter, he supposes. It doesn’t matter if Sophia likes him. It’s not like it’s going to impact Eddie’s opinion. He makes his own strong opinions, and he loves Buck. Besides, they aren’t super close. Physically or emotionally. Eddie once told him they were, before Chris. She was still a teenager, and while he was too, he didn’t really get to stay that way.  Makes sense.

“So, Sophia,” Buck says, a few hours into the drive. Because while it may not matter that she doesn’t like him, he still really wants her to anyway. 

“So, Buck,” she repeats.

“You’re a vet, right?” Buck asks. “Like, not the kind Eddie is?”

“No, I served in ‘Nam,” she says flatly.

“Oh my god, you’re such a dick sometimes,” Eddie huffs. “Can you please be nice?”

Sophia makes a frustrated noise. “Yes. I’m a veterinarian.”

“That’s uh… That’s super cool,” Buck says. 

“Yep,” she replies.

“Hey, uh, did I do something?” Buck asks. “Because I know why your sister and I maybe got off on the wrong foot, but you and I-”

“It’s not you. You’re fine,” she cuts him off. “I don’t care… I mean, happy for you and Eddie, or whatever.”

“This is really cool and chill,” Adriana mumbles. 

“What does that mean?” Eddie asks.

“It’s nothing, Eddie. Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” Eddie shifts his body to turn and look at her. “It obviously means something, Soph. So just say it.”

She rolls her eyes. Buck thinks her expression sort of reminds him of Christopher’s, when he’s fed up or annoyed. She’s so familiar, for someone who is more or less a stranger. 

“Fine, Eddie,” she snaps. “Fine. You want to know why I’m being pissy with your boyfriend?”

“We haven’t actually labeled it,” Buck whispers. “But I’m cool with that if you are.”

Eddie doesn’t seem to hear this.

“Obviously or I wouldn’t ask!” He fires back.

“How long did you know what was going on with our baby sister before you told me?” Sophia snaps. “After all I went through looking for her!”

“I didn’t even know,” Eddie defends himself. “It was a hunch.”

“Well, you told someone else before you told me! And I’m sure you’re great, Buck. You seem fine. But you shouldn’t have seen my sister before me. You shouldn’t have known what happened to her before me.”

“My god, Soph,” Adriana sighs. 

“No, my god!” She snaps. “You have no idea what it was like, not knowing! It drove me crazy!”

“I’m sorry,” Adriana says. “But that’s not Eddie’s fault. Or Buck’s.”

---

96 for ⚖️ (Buck especially needs blankets and soup!)

---

“The stories differ,” the officer says. 

“SHE STABBED ME WITH HER CAR KEYS,” the woman shrieks. 

“Ma’am, we’d like to take a look at your wounds,” Eddie says patiently. “Would you come to the ambulance with us so we can treat those?”

“Finally, someone who knows what the hell they’re doing,” the woman snaps. 

The officer refrains from rolling his eyes, but Buck can see it’s a struggle. He guides her over to the ambulance behind Buck and Eddie. She sits down on the open back and Eddie inspects her injuries while Buck hands him supplies from the med kit. 

“These don’t look too deep,” Eddie tells her, checking over the wounds on her arms and torso. “I’m just going to clean and bandage them before you head out, okay?” 

“Head out?” The woman asks. “Head out to where?”

“I’ll need to bring you back to the station to answer some questions,” the officer says. “File a proper report about what happened here today.”

At that moment, Bobby walks over from Chim and Hen, who seem to have their situation under control, to here, just as the woman is growing increasingly exasperated.

“No!” She screeches. “No, you can’t take me to the station, I don’t want to go!”

“Ma’am, it’s protocol,” the officer says. 

“I won’t go!” She throws up her arms, jolting Eddie’s hands as he tries to clean her wounds. 

“Hey, uh, it-it really helps my co-worker if you keep still while he works,” Buck tries. 

She completely ignores him.

“I will not go! You cannot make me!” She continues to protest, gesticulating wildly. Eddie has to move back to avoid getting accidentally smacked. 

“Everything okay here?” Bobby asks, frowning. Like he can see a situation unfolding.  

“I’m not going back to jail!” The woman cries. 

“Back?” Eddie echoes.

“No one said anything about jail, Ma’am,” the officer says. “We just need to take your statement and get some information-”

“No!” She yelps. She stands suddenly, darting out and away from Eddie.

“Wait!” The officer calls. “You can’t just-”

But the woman is trying to make a break for it. Buck and the officer start in her direction, but Bobby is closer. He manages to intercept her, stepping in her way and grabbing her arm. 

“LET GO OF ME!” She shrieks. 

Bobby keeps a firm hold on her. “Now you need to calm-”

He’s cut off by the woman reaching into the pocket of her jacket, pulling something out that Buck can’t quite see, and thrusting it into Bobby’s abdomen. Bobby’s breath catches. His eyes widen with a pained expression. 

“BOBBY!” Buck shouts, sprinting for him. 

He stops short, Eddie grabbing the back of his shirt, when the officer draws his gun and points it at the woman. 

⚖️

An hour later, the woman - Carol, it turns out, her name is - has been arrested, and Buck is waiting in the ER. 

She stabbed Bobby with a pen. Hard enough to cause damage, but not sharp enough to kill him. Still, there was a lot of blood. And Bobby paled so much he passed out briefly in the ambulance. It’s not a blade wound. It’s not like the time Buck found Chim bleeding on the cobblestones out front Maddie’s apartment. But it’s not good. Not at all. 

“He’s not going to die,” Hen says firmly in the waiting room. She still needs to wash Bobby’s blood from under her fingernails. “We’ve all survived way worse than this, right? He’s going to be just fine.”

And Buck knows she’s probably right. She usually is, for one thing. For another, Buck knows it’s not the worst injury anyone has ever sustained. Bobby will get it cleaned and patched up and he’ll be just fine. 

But Buck is still furious. He has anger curling in him, tight and hot. Ready to burst at a moment’s notice. 

When Athena shows up, worried and just as angry as Buck that this has happened, she fills them in on what happened. The pieces they missed.

“The two women who were initially attacked, Carol Brandt and her sister, Vanessa, were visiting on a trip from Utah. Apparently, they’re local leaders in some sort of multi-level marketing scheme. Have been arrested before for an altercation with a former member of their downline. A downline which includes today’s perp, who followed them and confronted them about shady practices.” 

“So Bobby got stabbed over some essential oils?” Buck asks, tone snappish. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“I believe this is protein drinks, but yeah,” Athena confirms, pursing her lips. 

And Buck… He just can’t handle it. 

He stands abruptly, eyes brimming with tears. He feels so tired and frustrated and… And unable to cope. 

“Sorry, Athena,” he mumbles, then he makes a bee-line for the exit. He doesn’t give a reason or excuse. He just needs some air. 

---

63 for 🔼 (Haha yeah Eddie and Maddie need to interact, but for now, at least I've got imaginary Shannon & Maddie):

---

“You have to talk to her, Dad. Please, you do,” Chris begs. 

“Uh…” Eddie thinks. “What’s the name of the game, Chris?”

There’s a long pause. 

“Why?” 

Ah. He doesn’t want Eddie to know. Well, that’s not lending credibility to his story.

“Because your mom likes to make you happy,” Eddie says. “So if she said no, there’s probably a reason. And I’m wondering if that reason maybe has something to do with the game’s rating.”

Another long pause. His eyes are downturned. 

“Christopher,” Eddie presses. “What is the game rated?”

“M,” Chris admits finally. “But only because-”

“Yeah, see. No,” Eddie says. “Your mom is absolutely right, Chris. You are too young to be playing a game with that rating.”

“But, Dad-”

“No buts, Chris. It’s inappropriate. End of story.”

Christopher’s expression twists with fury. He’s mad mad. Well, tough. Shannon was right. Eddie isn’t going to undermine her or let his kid play some traumatizing, violent game at his age. 

“I’m sorry it’s disappointing,” Eddie says. “I know you miss your friends.”

“It’s not fair!” Chris protests. “I don’t get to do anything with anyone. Not even you!”

Eddie’s heart hurts for his son. Here he is frustrated by too much time with his friends, while Chris is over there lonely. Sure, he’s got his mom. And he’s got his sister. But what good company is a baby, really? He’s needing something he can’t get right now, and it’s no one’s fault. It’s just the world right now.

“Chris, I know this is really hard-”

“No! You don’t!” Chris interrupts. “You get to be with Buck and do things every day!” 

Eddie sighs. “I know. I know it isn’t fair.”

“No, you don’t,” Chris grumbles. And then, without even saying goodbye, Chris hangs up the phone. 

Shit. 

◀️

Shannon can hear Chris call Eddie. Despite saying she would talk to him. Whatever. He’s allowed to call his father. Just… It feels underhanded, right? Trying to convince Eddie to make the opposite decision to hers without talking to her. She’s mad. 

[goshdangronpa]

YEEES YOU GET IT. They're also definitely two girls implied to like the same guy who get killed within the first chapter, but THEY COULD GO SO WELL TOGETHER. They would have so much to talk about if they ever once talked to each other!

I adore the tension inherent to any Sayaka ship where the harsh standards enforced upon idol singers demands that she choose between romance and career. The person she loves, versus the dream she's fought so hard for so long to achieve. ESPECIALLY if it's with a girl (and with me, it always is). And I love the tension inherent to any Mukuro ship where there's already someone else serving as the most important person in her life. That person being her extremely dangerous sister, whose chokehold on Mukuro's existence started in the womb.

Could Sayaka ever choose someone else over her lifelong dream? If she did, would she be happy, or even content? (I have a whole sayabuki break-up arc in mind where Sayaka chooses stardom over Ibuki.) Could Mukuro ever break free of her sister's shackles and love someone - and herself - more? If she did, how would Junko even react? (I like to think that our Ultimate Analyst considers every possibility for every situation EXCEPT a genuine love between her sister and someone else.) Just the combo between these two conflicts could fuel some great stories.

That's not even getting into Sayaka x Mukuro as slashers getting revenge on everyone who's hurt them, Sayaka x Mukuro as rivals for Makoto's affection who cut off the male leg of the love triangle, Sayaka x Mukuro as memory-wiped killing game participant and mastermind lackey who remembers a great love from that forgotten year at Hope’s Peak ... God, I love ikuzono. I should really write any of these fics someday.

Lunar, I see your tags. Are you new to Tumblr, or to the DR fandom, or the DR fandom Tumblr? Cuz you're in the right place. Yap away about your fave chars and ships, and use the tags. We yap back.

Thinking about ikuzono, a ship with virtually no basis in canon (do Sayaka and Mukuro-as-Junko interact even once in THH or DRIF?), yet compels quite a lot of fans. I can't speak for everyone, but for myself ...

Sayaka lives to elevate other girls - it's the whole reason she became an idol. Who could use a moral and emotional boost more than Mukuro? For one, she's a former child soldier ... or still is one? What does Hope's Peak do with her? And of course, she's trapped in the black hole pull of her boisterous, popular, highly visible twin. A sibling who also abuses her, grinds her down, makes her less.

What all this experience has done is make Mukuro highly capable of protecting the people she cares about. That's limited to her sister in canon, but one could see her extending that to Sayaka, who claims to have sacrificed a whole lot to reach her vaulted position in a notoriously exploitative industry. I think Mukuro would understand why she did all that, not see her as less. I also think she'd want to protect Sayaka from creeps and crooks. The sacrifices end here.

Ikuzono could be two hurt people helping each other hurt less, a relationship that heals both through compassion and sympathy. It could also be two people helping each other hurt more - namely, hurt other people. Mukuro could, of course, get revenge on every lascivious talent scout, greedy manager, and rotten record company exec who ever preyed on Sayaka. But if we know anything about Sayaka, it's that the right (or wrong) motivations can push her to pulling off some sneaky and heinous shit. There's great potential for an ikuzono dynamic where the Ultimate Soldier discovers, with some horror and some glee, that she is not the scariest person in their relationship.

[pokepollsters]

Lumi Plays Pokémon: White 2 Bug Monotype Run- Part 3

With a new friend on the team, Gumball the Venipede, we had some training to do before we could take on Roxie. I'm sure the Virbank Complex will be perfectly safe!

Ah.

Well, Fire types and a close call against a Koffing aside, the training was relatively successful! Teabag and Gumball were able to handle the trainers without too much issue- though I was noticing a troubling trend of missed Rollouts, concerning when that was my plan for Roxie...

But with the trainers beaten, we went to where we always should've been. The club. That was also a gym.

Some guy in there also started asking awkward questions...

Like, buddy, I'm here for the bugs and just the bugs thanks.

Still, Gumball solos the two trainers, since I don't trust Teabag's Poison weakness to not give us issues. We're going into the battle with Roxie with both our team members at level 17, and I'm feeling... Okay? Gumball keeps missing his Rollouts, and he got crit on a couple of times too...

Let's hope your luck turns around lil guy!

Time for Roxie, and while I mistimed my picture this time round, I did get this instead-

So that's pretty funny.

Roxie leads with Koffing, I lead with Gumball. First I set up with Defense Curl, to tank better and to boost Rollout. Koffing hits a crit Assurance. Oh god.

Thankfully it only does half health and we heal up, then start Rolling Out. It's a little back and forth, but with his defense buffed, Koffing isn't doing much to Gumball! And Gumball manages to hit 1, 2, 3, 4 Rollouts in a row! After wasting a potion on it, Rosie's Koffing is down.

Then Gumball has to face his own evolved form-

Gumball outspeeds and hits his 5th Rollout in a row. It's a one hit KO. And I couldn't be more proud. 🥲

Gumball singlehandedly earns us the 2nd badge and finally learns a decent STAB move in Poison Tail after hitting level 19 at the end of the battle.

All of a sudden, this guy wants me to be a movie star! Sure!

So we go to the studios and watch a movie. It's okay I guess! My turn on set? Let's see, what do we have to do here?

Wait. What in god's name is that???

That's not a bug, I can't use that! That's against the rules!

Well it seems that no matter what I do, I cannot avoid this- you can't leave without doing this first movie, and you can't choose to use your own Pokémon in this tutorial... So I end it the only way I can think of.

SELF SABOTAGE!

The boys and I leave the studio and never look back.

[m00nkissedlover]

SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON REGULUS X INSOMNIAC READER YES YES YES OH MY GOD I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED THIS I AM BEGGING YOU ON MY KNEES FOR THIS 😭

・｡sleepless nights🌒

you've ordered: blood orange sherbet with dark chocolate chunks! enjoy!

"late night devil, put your hands on me~"

sleep paralysis demon! secret incubus! regulus black x insomniac! reader | word count: 1,997 words

summary: a visit from your sleep paralysis demon takes an...unexpected turn 🌒

warnings: (MDNI) mild (?) spice, making out, intimate touches, blood/ blood licking, mention of pills, bit of manipulation

note: tysm to @aelinwya for seeing my vision and requesting this fic! i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much i did writing it 🤭 (please excuse the way this fic is kinda all over the place, i had so many ideas 😭)

great. another sleepless night.

you blankly stared up at your ceiling, unable to slip away into the comforts of dreamland like most everyone else in your neighborhood.

the bouts of insomnia you suffered from every night brought you great feelings of stress and unease. you had gone to your doctor with complaints about your sleeping habits and your lack thereof, only to be prescribed some bottle of pills dubbed as "anti-insomnia meds." saying they worked...was a stretch.

you'd still lay awake, restless and tired of being so damn tired. but sometimes, the meds did work, giving you the peaceful relief of sleep...with a little added...twist?

during these small periods of unconsciousness, you'd find yourself waking up and unable to move. at all. you couldn't even speak.

sleep paralysis.

you weren't really panicked since you'd experienced it a few times before, but now it was getting a lot more intense. you'd wake up and feel an almost crushing weight on your chest, your breath leaving you for a few seconds too long. or you would hear someone whispering your name around your room, their voice smooth and sultry. but the strange part was: you almost never saw anyone in your room.

and if you did, it was just an intimidating, shadowy figure, its body pitch black. you couldn't really make out any shapes except for a pair of twisted horns atop its head. its beady red eyes would stare into your soul as the figure stood in the corner of your room, not saying anything, just...starting. just...watching, like the way a predator stalks its prey.

but tonight...tonight was different. very different.

you woke up in a cold sweat, your body feeling numb with that "pins and needles" feeling all over. you tried to sit up, but to no avail. as you tried to bring yourself out of your paralysis, your eyes spotted a mound of sorts on the chair next to your desk.

'what the hell?' you thought, staring at the mound. you swore you didn't leave any clothes out or pile anything up on your chair. as you attempted once more to move your body or say anything, a voice broke your concentration.

a very familiar voice.

"don't tire yourself out now." the voice said, the same smooth and buttery tone filling your ears. and that's when you saw it. the figure that would stand and stare at you from the corner of your room was now sitting directly in front of your desk. you could see it stand up, its murky form towering over your desk, red eyes looking into your soul.

"since we haven't formally met each other, i'll go ahead and introduce myself, hm?" what were you gonna do? say no? you watched with slightly shaky eyes as the tall figure walked around your bed, taking his time before finally stepping into the stream of moonlight that shone in through your windows.

as terrifying as this was, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. his skinny, yet fit build. his slim face. as he stepped into the moonlight, his seemingly red eyes became a dark gray color, twinkling in the light. his black curls fell in his face a bit and the horns on his head had disappeared. he wore a white linen lace shirt with laces at the collar tucked into high waisted black pants. to top it all off, he wore a few pieces of silver jewelry; his slender fingers adorned with rings and a simple necklace around his neck.

"nice to meet you, y/n. my name is regulus...and i'm your sleep paralysis demon." the figure said. you caught a glimpse of his pointed canines as he spoke, lifting your unmoving hand and pressing his lips to the back of it.

a chill ran through your whole body, the demon grinning at your reaction. your eyes were wide in fear, incoherent grunts leaving your lips and making regulus frown in response.

"you don't look too happy to see me." he pouted, his voice full of mock disappointment. "understandable, since its not every night your sleep paralysis demon strikes up conversation. especially when the other party can't speak."

regulus stepped closer and sat at the edge of the bed near your chest. he leaned over and slowly ran a finger over your jaw, his pointed nail dragging against your skin.

"don't worry. i'm not going to do anything...yet." he murmured, holding your chin and turning your face in his hand. "i'd much rather we both be able to move before i act on impulse."

'this isn't real, it can't be. i'm hallucinating. i just need to wake up.' you thought to yourself, trying desperately to move your body.

"oh, look at that. you're trying to move. how cute." regulus hummed, trailing his fingers down your neck and over your collarbones.

'come on! wake up! this isn't real.' you thought, your breathing getting a bit strained. you tried everything in your power to move your body, even an inch.

"since you'll probably be waking up soon, i'll leave you with something to remember me by." you let out a choked grunt as you felt one of his nails dig into your wrist, drawing some blood.

'wake up.'

regulus leaned over, his warm breath fanning over your ear. he proceeded to press a kiss to it, his tongue playfully darting out.

'wake up.'

"until we meet again, dear."

'WAKE UP!'

a strangled gasp left your throat as you jolted up, frantically looking around your room only to find it empty. a dull pain ran through your wrist and when you looked down, your heart dropped.

right there, on your skin, was a rather wide cut, crimson liquid dripping from it. "what the fuck?" you muttered to yourself, still feeling watched as you got up to go bandage your wrist.

three days had passed since that night and things were just getting weirder. you'd hear the demon's voice calling your name, even in wakefulness. you'd feel cold hands around your neck or on your hips, and each time you'd turn around, no one was there.

but these strange occurrences where all explained as you woke up sweaty and panting for breath. unlike other nights, you could actually move your body and speak. but just like those other nights, it would be a struggle to get back to bed.

you slowly got out of your bed, making your way to your bathroom. your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, your exhaustion evident. you sighed and splashed water on your face, your mind drifting to him.

"...i need to take my meds." you mumbled, opening up your medicine cabinet and taking out the white pill bottle. when you closed the door and looked back into the mirror, your heart practically jumped out of your chest, the bottle falling from your hands and into the sink.

right behind you, staring you down in the mirror, was none other than who was supposed to be your sleep paralysis demon. but you were wide awake (well, kinda).

"miss me, darling?" regulus mused, that cocky little grin on his face. you felt like your voice was stuck in your throat, your hands trembling as you went to grab your pills.

"ah ah ah. no, you don't need these." he said, swiftly grabbing your wrist and plucking the bottle from your hand.

"you...you're not real. you're just something my brain thought up after my paralysis episodes." you said, watching through the mirror as he lifted your wrist, pressing a kiss to the cut he'd made nights before.

"hm, keep telling yourself that, love." regulus murmured against your wrist, his chest pressing against your back. your heart was going a mile a minute, your senses dulled by his strong presence.

"i think," he began, his other hand coming up to wrap around your neck in a firm, but gentle grip. regulus forced you to look at him through the mirror, his gray eyes glinting with something darker.

"you rather enjoy my company. i think i've been on your mind. all day. everyday." your stomach twisted into knots as regulus whispered into your ear, the thumb of the hand holding your wrist pressing down on your raw wound.

"give in, y/n. you know you want to." he continued, his piercing gray eyes staring into yours.

"you don't need these silly pills. they're probably not even working." you watched as he let go of your neck and grabbed the bottle of anti-insomnia medication, skillfully popping off the cap and pouring the pills into your trash bin.

"i can help you sleep. when i'm done with you, you'll have the best sleep of your life. i promise." you swallowed thickly, your knees going weak. a strange sensation ran through your body, as if some unknown force was drawing you into him. you didn't even have to say anything.

the new look in your eyes was enough for him.

"good. now, i need you to relax for me, okay? can you do that for me, love?" the demon whispered, leaning his head into the crook of your neck. you shivered at the feeling of his lips pressing to your pulse point.

you were like putty in his hands, free from him to touch and mold. one of his hands creeped along the hem of your shirt and soon slipped underneath the thin fabric. a soft gasp left you as the cold metal of his rings passed over your warm skin, his nails dragging over.

"is this your plan? to mess with me till i fall asleep?" you questioned, your free hand snaking up to tangle into his dark curls. a dark chuckle vibrated in his chest as he pulled his hand out from under your shirt and tilted your chin.

"would it be so bad if it was?" regulus mused, his hot breath fanning over your lips. "you don't hate this. i can tell. that look in your eyes is practically begging for my attention. is that what you want, darling? my attention?"

your stomach lurched at his words, your hands getting sweaty and clammy. all you could do was nod, your words failing you once again.

"say it. say you want my attention."

"i want...your atte-!" before you even finished your sentence, regulus's lips were on yours, hungry and passionate. it wasn't long before regulus was lifting you up by your thighs and sitting you onto your bathroom counter.

you tugged him closer, your hands gripping fistfuls of his hair, making him grunt into your mouth. his hand slipped underneath your shirt again, his other messing with the drawstrings of your sweatpants.

a slightly pained moan left your lips as you felt his canines dig into your bottom lip. the metallic taste of blood mingled with regulus's own sweet taste as his tongue now ran over your bottom lip.

unfortunately, humans need air. the two of you parted from each other, breathing ragged and eyes half lidded. the sight of you dazed (and considerably sleep deprived) with blood dripping down your lip did something absolutely bizarre to him.

"how beautiful." regulus whispered, reaching over, wiping your bottom lip and licking the blood off of his thumb. "how absolutely gorgeous." he then leaned back in to press kisses to your neck and collarbone, occasionally biting and sucking on the skin to mark you as his.

you could feel yourself slipping, coming undone in his hands. you let your hands fall from his hair, fingers nimbly untying the laces of his shirt.

"regulus." you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut. your body tingled and trembled in his arms, soft sounds of your shared pleasure filling the small space of your bathroom.

"hm, looks like we've got a long way to go." regulus smirked, giving your thigh a playful squeeze.

"that's fine...i've got all night." you mumbled before pulling him back in.

and right you were. you definitely had all night. and all the nights after. 🌒

**i'll let y'all imagine what happened next <3

© m00nkissedlover, 2025

[amethystarachnid]

I absolutely adore your Tony Stark fics and I love the fluff they usually have but I was hoping to request some angst. preferably where Tony and reader have been fighting lately cause he’s always down in the lab and won’t come to bed, then reader comes down late one night and he confesses to having nightmare’s and about being afraid, there’s a lot of reassurance and tears: maybe some yelling at the beginning and ofc fluff at the end ;3 Tysm, <3

STARK REALITIES

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: angst, angst, some more angst and some fluff / romance at the end

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.3k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): tony spending tooo much time in the lab but in the end he makes up for it <3

ᯓ★ oh I love the angst!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn���t my first language

You sit on the edge of the couch, arms folded tightly across your chest as you glare at the muted television. The flickering images do little to distract you from the simmering anger boiling just beneath your skin. It's late—too late for you to be awake, and certainly too late for Tony to still be in his lab. Yet, here you are, alone in the penthouse again, waiting for a man who’s made promises he doesn’t seem to care to keep anymore.

The silence of the apartment is oppressive. It stretches out, thin and brittle, like glass about to shatter. Even JARVIS, with his ever-present butler-like demeanor, seems to sense the tension and keeps his usual comments to himself. Your foot bounces restlessly against the floor, each tap echoing in the empty space like a metronome ticking away at your patience.

The elevator dings faintly, the sound nearly lost in the expansive living room, and you straighten instinctively. The doors slide open with their familiar hiss, and Tony strides out, his steps unhurried, his focus glued to the holographic projection on the tablet in his hand. He’s still wearing his grease-streaked tank top and the same pair of sweatpants he’s had on for three days straight, looking every bit like the genius billionaire inventor the world reveres but nothing like the man you fell in love with.

“You’re finally done playing God in your lab?” you say, voice laced with sarcasm sharp enough to cut steel. It’s not the greeting he deserves, but it’s the only one you’re capable of mustering right now.

Tony glances up, his brow furrowing briefly before the mask of indifference slides into place. “Nice to see you too, sweetheart,” he replies, his tone dismissive as he sets the tablet down on the kitchen counter and pours himself a glass of water.

You scoff, leaning back against the couch as your arms tighten around yourself. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s not like I’ve been waiting up for you or anything.”

“I told you I’d be working late,” he says without looking at you, his voice calm in that maddeningly detached way that makes you feel like you’re shouting into the void.

“You always work late,” you snap, your voice rising despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “Do you even remember the last time we had a normal conversation? Or… hell, even a meal together that didn’t involve you shoving takeout boxes aside so you could get back to tinkering with one of your precious suits?”

Tony sighs, finally turning to face you. His face is tired, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but there’s a flicker of irritation there too, a spark that ignites your own fury. “You knew what you were signing up for,” he says, his voice edging toward defensive. “This is who I am, Y/N. It’s not like any of this is new.”

“No, it’s not new,” you agree, standing now, unable to keep still under the weight of your emotions. “But it’s worse. You’re worse. You barely look at me anymore, Tony. Half the time, I don’t even know if you’re listening when I talk to you. It’s like you’ve replaced me with… with your damn lab.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the gesture so practiced it’s almost automatic. “You’re overreacting.”

The words hit you like a slap, and your chest tightens as a bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Overreacting?” you repeat, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “God, you really don’t get it, do you?”

Tony crosses his arms, leaning back against the counter as he regards you with a mixture of exasperation and something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “What do you want me to say, Y/N? That I’m sorry? Fine. I’m sorry. But I have responsibilities. You think I’m down there because I enjoy ignoring you?”

“I don’t know, Tony,” you shoot back. “Do you?”

He flinches, the question hitting closer to home than either of you expected. For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the silence between you heavy and suffocating. You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Not now. Not in front of him.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you say finally, your voice quieter but no less firm. “You can’t keep shutting me out, Tony. I… I love you. But I can’t keep waiting for you to decide that I’m worth your time.”

His expression softens, the irritation fading to reveal the vulnerability he tries so hard to hide. He takes a step toward you, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” you say, your voice breaking. “Don’t say anything unless you actually mean it.”

Tony stops, his hand falling to his side. He looks at you, really looks at you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you see a flicker of the man you fell in love with. But it’s not enough. Not this time.

Without another word, you turn and walk toward the bedroom, your heart heavy in your chest. You don’t slam the door behind you—you don’t have the energy for it. Instead, you close it softly, leaning against it as the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over.

In the silence of the room, you hear Tony’s footsteps retreating back toward the elevator. Of course he’s going back to the lab. You don’t know why you expected anything different.

Sliding down to the floor, you bury your face in your hands and let yourself cry, the weight of your frustration and heartbreak washing over you in waves. You love him. God, you love him so much it hurts. But love isn’t enough to bridge the growing chasm between you. Not when he’s so determined to keep building walls.

And for the first time, you wonder if you’ll ever be enough to tear them down.

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, the sheets cold on Tony’s side. You expected it. He didn’t come to bed last night, just like he hasn’t for weeks. Still, the sight of the undisturbed pillow and blanket twists something sharp and painful in your chest.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you go through the motions of your morning routine, pretending it doesn’t bother you. Pretending it isn’t slowly eating you alive. By the time you make it to the kitchen, you find evidence of Tony’s presence—an empty mug in the sink, a crumpled napkin on the counter—but he’s nowhere to be found.

He’s in the lab. Of course.

Despite the ache in your chest, you decide to try again. Maybe today will be different. Maybe he’ll look at you like he used to, with warmth and affection instead of that distracted, faraway gaze he’s perfected over the past few months.

You make coffee, brewing it just the way he likes. It’s a small thing, but it feels like an offering, a token of the love you’re struggling to keep alive. Balancing the steaming mug in your hand, you head toward the lab, your heart heavy but hopeful.

When you step inside, the familiar hum of machinery greets you, along with the sight of Tony hunched over his workbench. His hair is a mess, his eyes glued to the glowing hologram in front of him. He doesn’t even look up when you enter.

“Morning,” you say, forcing cheerfulness into your voice.

“Morning,” he mumbles, not bothering to glance your way.

You place the coffee beside him, lingering for a moment in case he acknowledges you. But he doesn’t. He keeps tinkering, muttering under his breath about calibrations and power outputs.

“Thought we could have breakfast together,” you try, your voice softer now, hesitant.

“Can’t. Busy,” he replies curtly, tapping at the hologram with quick, precise movements.

Your heart sinks. “You’re always busy, Tony.”

“Yeah, because someone has to be,” he snaps, finally looking at you but only to shoot you a brief, irritated glare.

The words sting, and you bite your lip to keep the tears at bay. “Right. Of course. Sorry for interrupting.”

You turn and walk away before he can see how much his dismissal hurts. The coffee sits untouched on the table, a silent reminder of your failed attempt to connect with him.

Later, you sit in a café with your closest friends, picking at the edges of a croissant you have no intention of eating. The conversation around you is lighthearted, but you’re too distracted to participate. Eventually, one of them notices your silence.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You force a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

They don’t buy it. They never do. “Come on, what’s going on? Is it Tony?”

The mention of his name is enough to make your carefully constructed façade crumble. You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you stare out the window. “It’s… it’s like he’s not even there anymore. I try to talk to him, to spend time with him, but it’s like I don’t exist. He’s always in his lab, and when he does talk to me, it’s just… nothing. He doesn’t see me. Not really.”

Your friends exchange glances, their concern evident. “Maybe you need to stop trying so hard,” one of them suggests gently. “Let him come to you for a change. See if he notices.”

The idea lodges itself in your mind, and though it feels counterintuitive, you decide to try. Maybe they’re right. Maybe you’re smothering him. Maybe giving him space will make him realize what he’s missing.

The next few days are agony.

You stop going to the lab. You stop leaving coffee by his workstation. You stop waiting up for him at night. You don’t even text him anymore. It’s excruciating, every second of silence stretching longer and heavier than the last.

Tony doesn’t notice.

He doesn’t come to bed. He doesn’t ask where you are. He doesn’t even look for you. Days turn into nights and then into more days, and the distance between you grows until it feels insurmountable.

You start to feel like a ghost in your own home, haunting the spaces you used to share. The living room, the kitchen, the bedroom—all of them feel emptier than ever. Even when Tony is there, it’s like he isn’t.

You try to distract yourself. You throw yourself into work, into hobbies, into anything that might fill the gaping void in your chest. But it’s no use. You miss him. God, you miss him so much it’s unbearable.

One night, you find yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the empty hallway that leads to the lab. Your chest is tight, your hands trembling as you fight the urge to go to him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t. You promised yourself you’d wait for him to come to you.

But he hasn’t.

And deep down, you know he won’t.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, and you curl in on yourself, pressing your face into your hands as sobs wrack your body. You’ve never felt so lonely, so unloved, so utterly invisible.

This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like.

A week passes before you finally see Tony again. He emerges from the lab late one night, his face pale and drawn with exhaustion. You’re sitting on the couch, the TV playing softly in the background, but you don’t acknowledge him.

He hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering toward you. For a second, you think he’s going to say something, but then he turns and heads to the kitchen without a word.

It’s the final straw.

You stand, your hands clenched at your sides as you follow him. He’s pouring himself a glass of water when you speak, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion.

“Do you even care anymore?”

Tony freezes, the glass halfway to his lips. Slowly, he sets it down and turns to face you. “What are you talking about?”

“You!” you shout, your voice cracking under the weight of everything you’ve been holding in. “Us! This… whatever this is! Do you even care? Because it doesn’t feel like it, Tony. It hasn’t felt like it for a long time.”

His brow furrows, confusion and defensiveness warring on his face. “Of course I care. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then show me!” you plead, your voice breaking. “God, Tony, I’ve been trying so hard, and you don’t even notice. I’ve given you space, I’ve stopped bothering you, I’ve waited for you to come to me, and you haven’t. Not once.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy,” you repeat bitterly. “Right. Busy. Always busy. Too busy to talk to me, to spend time with me, to even look at me. Is that all I am to you? A distraction?”

Tony’s silence is deafening, and it cuts deeper than any words ever could.

You feel your heart shatter as you take a shaky step back. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, the weight of your heartbreak threatening to crush you with every step. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stay here. Not like this.

Not when it feels like you’re already gone.

Tony's p.o.v.

I don’t hear the bedroom door shut behind her, but I feel it. That silence—the kind that wraps around your chest like a steel vice—settles over the room, and I just stand there, staring at the glass of water in my hand like it holds the answers I need. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

Her words ring in my ears long after she’s gone. Do you even care anymore? Of course I care. God, of course I care. She knows that, doesn’t she?

Doesn’t she?

I don’t follow her. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know what the hell to say if I do. Every time we talk lately, it’s a minefield. One wrong step, and everything blows up.

So, I stay put. Like a coward.

I drain the glass in one gulp and set it down harder than I mean to, the sharp clink echoing in the empty kitchen. My hands are shaking. My hands never shake.

I retreat to the lab because it’s the only place that feels safe anymore. It’s easier down there—quiet, predictable, full of problems I can solve with equations and torque adjustments. Not the kind of problems that have your girlfriend looking at you like she doesn’t recognize you anymore.

The elevator ride feels longer than usual. Or maybe that’s just my guilt stretching out the seconds. When I step into the lab, the familiar hum of machinery greets me, and for a moment, I can almost pretend everything’s fine.

But it’s not.

I drop into the chair by my workstation and rub a hand over my face. The holograms I left running earlier flicker back to life, but I can’t focus on them. All I can see is the way she looked at me—her eyes red-rimmed, her voice cracking. She’s been crying. Again.

I hate that I’m the reason.

The worst part? I don’t even know when it got this bad. It didn’t happen overnight. It crept in, slow and insidious, until one day we were strangers living under the same roof.

I’ve been here before. Not with her, but with people I’ve cared about. Pepper. Rhodey. Hell, even my parents. I’m great at pushing people away—gold medal level, actually—but this? This is different. This is her.

And I’m screwing it up.

Days blur together. I bury myself in work because it’s what I do best. There’s always something to fix, always some new crisis to prepare for, always another project to distract me from the sinking feeling in my gut.

But no amount of work can distract me from the emptiness in the penthouse. She’s still here—I hear her moving around sometimes, quiet as a ghost—but we don’t see each other. She doesn’t come to the lab anymore, and I don’t go looking for her.

I tell myself it’s for the best. Give her space. Let things cool down. That’s what people do, right? They take time to figure things out.

But the days stretch on, and the silence between us grows louder.

One night, I sit in the lab staring at the half-finished schematics for a new suit, and my mind won’t stop replaying her voice. I can’t do this anymore.

It’s not the first time she’s said something like that, but this time it sounded different. Final.

The thought sends a jolt of panic through me. What if she meant it? What if she’s done?

My hands tighten into fists, and I shove back from the desk, pacing the length of the lab like a caged animal. I’ve been here before, too—standing on the edge of losing someone who matters. Every time, I tell myself I’ll do better, and every time, I fall back into the same damn patterns.

But this time… this time feels worse. Because I don’t just care about her. I need her.

I grab the tablet off the desk and scroll through the security feeds until I find her. She’s in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket pulled tightly around her. The TV is on, but she’s not watching it. She’s staring at the floor, her expression blank, like she’s not even there.

The sight punches me in the gut.

I want to go to her. I want to tell her I’m sorry, that I’ll do better, that she means more to me than any suit or project ever could. But the words catch in my throat, trapped behind years of bad habits and emotional walls.

Instead, I turn off the tablet and pour myself another drink.

A week goes by, and I start to wonder if this is it. If this is how we end—not with a fight, but with silence.

The thought terrifies me.

I sit in the lab one night, staring at the arc reactor glowing in my chest. It’s supposed to keep me alive, this thing I built with my own two hands. But right now, it feels like it’s killing me. Because what’s the point of staying alive if I’m driving away the one person who makes it worth it?

I think about going upstairs, about finding her and saying everything I’ve been too afraid to say. But what if she doesn’t want to hear it? What if I’m too late?

The thought paralyzes me. So, I stay in the lab, surrounded by machines that can’t fix this.

Y/n's p.o.v.

You don’t even remember falling asleep. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, trying to will yourself into calm, and the next, you’re dreaming. At first, it’s nothing—a blur of memories and emotions—until suddenly, it’s not.

You’re in the penthouse, calling out Tony’s name. The rooms are dark, unfamiliar, like you’re walking through a house you no longer belong to. You call again, but there’s no answer. Panic builds in your chest, clawing at your ribs.

When you finally find him, he’s standing in the middle of the lab, surrounded by blue holograms and the hum of machinery. Relief floods you, and you step toward him, but something’s wrong. He won’t look at you.

“Tony,” you say, your voice trembling. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says, his voice cold and detached.

The words hit you like a slap. “What are you talking about?”

He finally turns to face you, and the look in his eyes is like ice. “This. Us. It’s too much. I’m better off alone.”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. “You don’t mean that.”

But he does. You can see it in the way he turns away, in the finality of his movements as he walks out of the lab, out of the house, out of your life. You try to follow him, but your feet won’t move, like you’re rooted to the spot. You scream his name, over and over, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back.

And then you wake up.

Your chest heaves as you sit up, your heart pounding like it’s trying to escape your ribs. The room is dark, the sheets twisted around you, damp with sweat. For a moment, you can’t breathe.

It was just a dream.

But the panic doesn’t ease.

You reach out instinctively, your hand searching for him in the dark, but his side of the bed is empty. The sheets are cold.

“Tony?” you call out, your voice hoarse.

Silence.

The panic surges again, a tidal wave crashing over you. You throw off the covers and stumble out of bed, your legs trembling as you make your way to the door. The penthouse is quiet—too quiet—and every shadow feels like it’s mocking you.

You know where he is.

Your feet carry you toward the lab, your breath hitching with every step. Tears blur your vision, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

By the time you reach the lab, you’re sobbing, your chest heaving with a mix of fear and relief as you see him sitting at his workbench. He’s hunched over, focused on something in his hands, the glow of the arc reactor casting soft blue light across the room.

“Tony,” you choke out, your voice breaking.

He startles, turning toward you, and the moment he sees you, his expression shifts from confusion to concern. “Y/N? What—what’s wrong?”

You can’t get the words out. You take a shaky step forward, then another, until you’re standing in front of him, tears streaming down your face.

“I thought you—” You can’t finish the sentence. The dream is still too fresh, the fear too real.

Tony stands immediately, his hands reaching for you. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

The moment his arms wrap around you, the dam breaks. You cling to him, sobbing into his chest, your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt like he might disappear if you let go.

“I thought you left,” you whisper between sobs. “I dreamed you left, and I couldn’t find you, and I—”

He pulls you closer, his hand cradling the back of your head as he presses his lips to your temple. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice steady and soothing. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“But you’re always here,” you cry, gesturing weakly toward the lab. “You’re always in the lab, and I—I feel like I’ve already lost you, Tony. And then the dream—”

“Shh,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. He cups your face in his hands, tilting your head up so you can see the sincerity in his eyes. “Listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately, and I hate that I’ve made you feel like this.”

Your lip trembles as you try to speak, but he shakes his head, cutting you off gently.

“You’re the most important thing in my life, Y/N,” he says, his voice breaking. “Not this lab, not the suits, not any of it. You. And I know I’ve been taking you for granted, and I hate myself for it. But I swear to you, I’m going to do better. I’m going to make this right.”

His words are like a balm on your heart, but the fear still lingers. “What if you don’t?” you whisper.

“I will,” he says, his hands framing your face like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the world. “I swear to you, I will. I’m going to spend less time in the lab. Hell, I’ll shut it down for a week if that’s what it takes. I’ll take you out, we’ll go somewhere—anywhere you want. Just say the word, and I’ll do it.”

You search his eyes, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all you see is the raw, unfiltered love you’ve been missing for so long.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

The tears start again, but this time they’re different. They’re not from fear or sadness but from relief, from the overwhelming weight of his words sinking in.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you wrap your arms around him.

He holds you tight, his lips brushing against your hair as he murmurs reassurances over and over, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he stops.

For the first time in months, the knot in your chest starts to loosen. It’s not perfect—it’s not fixed—but it’s a start.

And as you stand there in his arms, the steady hum of the arc reactor filling the room, you let yourself believe that maybe everything will be okay.

Tony doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second. He holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, his arms wrapped so tightly around you that it’s almost as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he loosens his grip. His hand strokes your back in slow, comforting circles as your breathing starts to even out, the weight of your nightmare slowly ebbing away.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers against your hair, his voice softer than you’ve heard it in weeks. “I’ve got you, and I’m never letting go.”

You press your face into his chest, the steady hum of the arc reactor soothing in a way you didn’t think it could be anymore. His warmth, his scent, his presence—they’re everything you’ve been aching for, and now that you have them, you’re terrified of losing them all over again.

“Come on,” Tony says gently, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let’s get out of here. You need rest, and I’m not letting you wake up alone again.”

You nod, too drained to argue, and he shifts just enough to pick you up, cradling you against him like you weigh nothing. He’s always been strong, but this feels different—like he’s carrying you not just physically but emotionally, too.

When he lays you down in bed, he doesn’t hesitate to climb in beside you. He pulls you close, tangling his legs with yours and wrapping his arms around you like he’s determined to make up for every night he’s spent away. You feel his lips press softly against your forehead, then your cheek, and finally, he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve been an idiot, and I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t my everything. Because you are, Y/N. You’re everything to me.”

You don’t say anything. You just bury your face in his chest and let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in months.

When you wake up the next morning, he’s still there.

True to his word, Tony doesn’t let himself get sucked back into the lab. The very next day, he shuts down half his projects, instructing JARVIS to notify him only in case of emergencies. You don’t realize how serious he is until he emerges from the lab with a packed suitcase in one hand and a mischievous grin on his face.

“You,” he says, pointing at you like he’s just cracked the code to the universe, “and me. Anywhere you want to go. Name it.”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking, but when you realize he’s not, your heart skips a beat. “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it,” he says, pulling you into his arms. “You’ve been stuck with the brooding, workaholic version of me for too long. It’s time you got the fun one again. Now, come on—where to? Paris? Rome? That weird island with the bioluminescent plankton?”

You can’t help but laugh at the way he lists the options like a kid flipping through a catalog. “Tony, we don’t have to go anywhere fancy—”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips warm and soft against yours. “This isn’t about fancy. This is about you and me, getting out of here and seeing the world. So pick a place, any place.”

You do, and before you know it, you’re on a plane to Italy, watching the sun set over the Mediterranean with a glass of wine in your hand and Tony’s arm draped casually around your shoulders. It’s the first of many trips—each one more magical than the last.

In Paris, he takes you to a quiet little bistro tucked away in a cobblestone alley, where the two of you share a bottle of wine and laugh until your sides hurt. He even attempts to speak French to the waiter, which ends in spectacular failure and has you both in stitches.

In Tokyo, he gets you lost in a maze of neon-lit streets, insisting he doesn’t need a map because “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, remember?” You end up finding a tiny ramen shop that serves the best bowl of noodles you’ve ever had, and Tony spends the rest of the night bragging about his “impeccable sense of direction.”

In Egypt, he arranges for a private tour of the pyramids at sunrise. You watch the sky turn shades of pink and gold as he wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Beautiful,” he says, but when you glance at him, he’s not looking at the pyramids—he’s looking at you.

It’s not just the grand gestures, though. It’s the little things that make your heart ache in the best way. The way he holds your hand on crowded streets, the way he carries your bags even when you insist you can manage, the way he sneaks kisses when he thinks no one’s looking.

One night in Santorini, he surprises you with a candlelit dinner on the balcony of your villa. The view is breathtaking—the whitewashed buildings glowing against the deep blue of the sea—but it’s nothing compared to the way Tony looks at you across the table.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says out of nowhere, his voice quiet but earnest.

You reach across the table to take his hand. “You’re wrong. We deserve each other.”

He smiles, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“And you’re too hard on yourself,” you counter, leaning forward to press a kiss to his hand.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm—one that feels like the way things used to be, before the fights and the distance. He’s not perfect—there are days when he slips back into his old habits, disappearing into the lab for hours—but he always makes up for it.

He surprises you with breakfast in bed, takes you on spontaneous dates, and even sits through a rom-com marathon with you, groaning dramatically every time a character makes a clichéd speech.

“I can’t believe people watch this stuff voluntarily,” he grumbles during one particularly cheesy scene, but the way he keeps sneaking glances at you suggests he’s enjoying it more than he lets on.

It’s not just about making up for lost time—it’s about creating new memories, new traditions, new reasons to fall in love with each other all over again.

And every time he holds your hand or whispers something ridiculous in your ear to make you laugh, you’re reminded of why you fell in love with him in the first place.

He’s Tony Stark—brilliant, infuriating, impossible Tony Stark. And as much as he drives you crazy sometimes, he’s also the man who loves you with every fiber of his being, the man who would move heaven and earth to make you happy.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.