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seitmai · 12 hours ago

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Oh god so many thoughts

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you?

🥺🥺🥺

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily. To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Ahh and her not knowing and reading this is like a knife to the chest probably...

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all.

💔💔💔

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

Oh how he loves to be a husband and dad🥺

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days,

🥺🥺🥺

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

Of course she was

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing." When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

I would love to know what is going on in Maverick's head in that exact moment

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?" Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

I truly hope Maverick has learned (from his own experiences?) that he would not side with Bradley if it was the case, for Carole and Goose the otp 🫰🏻

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds." "It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately.

Mav in his head:

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message." Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

I think it finally catches up to Bradley... And yes his dad probably didn't put his mom through that but nobody compares to Carole and Goose🫶🏻

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

As they should lmao

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was." "Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Good god finally someone really laying it down so Bradley gets it too

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop." Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

This is not looking good...

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears. "What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

If one thing can set Bradley's head straight, is Indigo going directly against his wife, I feel like this is a big line that has been crossed

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house." Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair. "Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

no words... just tears 😭😭😭

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls." When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

💔💔💔

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you. When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.

"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.

"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."

"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.

"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."

You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.

Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.

He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.

It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.

Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.

To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.

You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.

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

"Oh, God."

Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.

Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk.

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.

"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place.

But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?

There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"

Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"

"Sure."

Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid.

"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."

"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."

When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."

Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"

Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."

"Hmm."

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."

"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."

Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."

While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"

"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."

Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.

"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."

Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."

Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach.

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."

"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Bradley winced. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."

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

Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.

"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."

Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.

"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.

You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.

But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.

Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.

Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"

You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.

"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."

Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."

You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."

You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."

"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up.

It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.

You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"

His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."

Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."

Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.

"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

"Find somewhere else to sleep."

When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.

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Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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humiliatemeplesse · 3 days ago

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When the faggot told it's Dom boyfriend that it had a fetish for sniffing guy's sweaty smelly socked feet, it hoped that He would understand since it believed He loved it and that He would help it satiate it's need. However, its boyfriend laughed at it and told it that it was pathetic to have such a lowly, stupid fetish. But, He said, if that's what you need, I'll give it to you since you're such a good boy otherwise. The fag filled with excitement and thanked its boyfriend over and over. The next night, when it's boyfriend came home from work and the gym, both places where He wore the same pair of socks in His work boots and workout shoes, He told the fag to lay on the floor at the foot of the couch where He was sitting. He put both sweaty, smelly, stinking socked feet on the faggots face and used it as His footstool all night long. He told the faggot it was not to speak or get up to do anything, to not even move. The only thing it could do was raise its hand if it had to use the toilet. That was it. So the faggot smothered under it's bf's stinking socked feet for hours and hours, their heavy weight on its face. The next day, the same thing happened. And the next day. And the next day. At first the fag was thrilled with this treatment, but eventually it felt like it was too much, that it'd like to have some "nights off" or maybe do it only three days a week. It got up the nerve to ask its bf one morning when it was making breakfast for them before work. it's bf looked it straight in the eye and said in a very serious time of authority, you asked for this, I think it's ridiculous and frankly embarrassing for you. If I had known this about you I wouldn't have even dated you nevermind moved in with you. But, you've been such a good boy otherwise and do everything I tell you to do that I decided to give you this one thing. This one pathetic, embarrassing thing. You asked for it, I've given it to you. So now you're going to accept my incredible gift and shut the fuck up and not complain about it or you can pack your shit and leave. Now I'd hate that, but it's up to you. I'm giving you a gift, take it or not. But this is going to be every night, and on weekends too. This is what you want and as they say, be careful what you ask for. The fag apologized and begged for forgiveness and got in the floor and kissed it's bf's boots. It was never discussed again and the fag ended up hating having it's bf's sweaty socked feet on its face every single day but there was nothing it could do about it. So it suffered in His sock stink every single day for the rest of its life. it's bf got a hard-on while this happened every day due to the sadistic nature of how He handled it, with complete, unquestioned control of His little slave sub bf. He'd often make it suck Him off right after but the fag never associated the act with any sadism on its bf's part.

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chillentertainer · 1 day ago

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thinkin' abt a little john wick conclave au where thomas lawrence is an aging assassin who keeps trying to retire but then is forcibly brought back for "one last hit" (first said to him half a dozen hits ago). lawrence is tired and depressed and he might be really good at his job (and that might be the only thing he's good at) but that Saddens him. because is his only purpose in life to be a Butcher?

not to mention he just recovered from prostate cancer and is now thinking a lot about the afterlife and god and sin etc etc. he's sure he's destined for hell no matter what he does now. is there even any point in changing?

one day he's in rome, surrounded by all these churches. and he enters one. he goes into a confession booth. every week, he confesses minor sins that turn into lovely but frivolous discussions with the anonymous priest, who lawrence can only identify through his gentle voice and bright, easily elicited laugh that reminds lawrence of morning birdsongs. over the weeks, this blossoms into a strange kind of friendship.

finally during a discussion about their favorite kinds of tea, lawrence interrupts the priest's recommendation of kahwah, which they had so often in their time in kabul, and was so delicious, and they just can't find anything close to what they had here, isn't that a shame, and i beg your pardon, what??

i kill people, lawrence repeats. all the time. i want to stop but i can't. i want to retire but they won't let me. i'm afraid being a murderer is how i spent most of my life, and i'm afraid it's how i'll spend the rest of my years, too. i'm the lowliest of sinners. i'm the evil that should be wiped clean from the earth. if god cast me down into the fires of hell for eternity, again and again, i would gladly welcome it.

and there is a heavy silence during which lawrence tenses, waiting for a horrified outburst or some rage.

but the priest says, with infinite compassion in his tone, you are still here on earth with us. and so god, in his mercy, has given you time to beg forgiveness and find redemption. make amends, however you can. take no more life, not for any reason. you say you want to stop. then stop. i believe you have good in your heart. you would not have come here if you did not.

thomas says, yes, yes i will, i swear on His name. i'm sorry for having wasted all your time these past weeks, i should not have done so.

and finally he says, goodbye. because there's no point in returning and attempting to continue this friendship, not when the priest must be so disgusted and would want nothing to do with lawrence any longer.

the priest says nothing in return and it hurts but lawrence knows he deserves it. he deserves far, far worse, and god, why can't he be punished now or just die and suffer eternal torment, and then, maybe, maybe, his soul could feel some bloody relief. but the priest said, make amends. can't make amends if you're dead.

so lawrence returns to his miserable apartment, to try and make amends, whatever that means. he decides to leave rome and begins to pack. he wanders the streets in a daze and gives all the euros he has on him to a beggar. on saturday, the day he would've gone to confession, he buys kahwah from a bemused shopkeeper.

he returns to find his next assignment on his kitchen counter in the form of a usb stick. he doesn't want to open it. but if he leaves it alone for too long, they'll send agents to track him down and he'll get an earful from aldo. better to open the assignment and fool them now. he'll disappear from rome right after.

lawrence plugs in the usb stick. there's a name he doesn't recognize. he clicks through the research on his next victim that ray had meticulously assembled. there is a video. he hits play. a voice starts speaking. and lawrence spills his hot cup of kahwah all over his keyboard and trousers but he doesn't care because fuck it all, he does know his victim after all.

it's the priest he sat next to week after week, chatting about the merits of herbal medicine and whether agatha christie or arthur conan doyle wrote better mystery novels and about the incompetence of world governments. it's the priest he just confessed to about his true nature, that he wasn't just some englishman adrift in rome, but a cold-blooded killer. it's the priest that heard this and offered him a way out, anyways.

it's vincent benitez.

the video continues, as benitez smiles and waves at a young child, his dark eyes luminescent and kind.

now he has a face and name to the voice, lawrence first thinks, in a daze. he’s even more beautiful than i imagined him to be.

his second thought: what the hell did benitez do to piss somebody off that badly that they want him dead?

#the answer: just being himself tbh #pt 2 ft. lawrence crashing out while he tries to protect vincent without killing more ppl #and starring vincent's nerves of titanium #imagine thomas lawrence to look more around the age ralph fiennes did in james bond #ok that's all i had the energy to type out for now #lawrenitez #thomas lawrence #vincent benitez #conclave #conclave au

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softsreidx-hotchner · 16 hours ago

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Hold Onto This for Me. (S.R)

Summary, Spencer has imagined proposing to you for a long time. When he finally does, the moment is cut short by a call from the BAU. Now, with his mind stuck on you and the question left unanswered, he struggles to focus on anything but the future he wants—with you

Category, .. bittersweet… fluff angst comfort

Paring, Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Yes I came up with the , “Dialogue, "Relax, baby. Please," Spencer murmurs into your ear, his hands working gentle circles over your tense shoulders. His voice is soft, soothing—an anchor against the storm raging in your mind.

Warnings, Mild angst, emotional conflict, mentions of work-related stress, unresolved proposal

Word count , 1k

Author notes , The fact I wouldn’t even hesitate if he had asked me .

I loved writing this one it was fun to write this one .

Relax, baby. Please," Spencer murmurs into your ear, his hands working gentle circles over your tense shoulders. His voice is soft, soothing—an anchor against the storm raging in your mind.

"I—I can't, Spence," you whisper, voice shaky. The way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine, but in the best way possible.

"I love the way you say my name," he breathes, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

You exhale, leaning into his touch. "I don’t want this to disappear, Spence." You turn slightly, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I knew what I signed up for, but watching you walk out that door for another case... I just—"

"I know, love," he says gently, his hands sliding down to rest on your waist. His gaze is steady, filled with unspoken promises. "You think I don’t worry about you, too? Every time I leave, I think about you. I think about this—about coming home to you, holding you, loving you."

"Spence, I care about you so much it hurts," you confess, voice barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you from the moment I first saw you." Your fingers brush over his cheek, memorizing every line, every feature. "I love everything about you, Spencer Reid."

His throat tightens, and for a moment, he struggles to find the words. Because this moment? He’s imagined it for so long. Longer than he’d ever admit.

"I love you," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "More than you’ll ever know. And I—I've thought about this for a long time."

He hesitates, his heart hammering as he reaches into the pocket of his nightstand. His fingers brush over the velvet box, the weight of it suddenly overwhelming.

"I want a life with you," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "A family. A home. Waking up to you every morning. I want... everything with you."

He finally pulls out the ring, his hands trembling slightly. The sight of it makes your breath hitch, tears welling in your eyes.

"I was waiting for the perfect moment," he admits, letting out a nervous chuckle. "But the truth is, every moment with you is perfect."

He swallows hard, his gaze locking with yours.

"Marry me?"

Before you can respond, his phone buzzes on the nightstand. The sound shatters the moment like glass.

Spencer hesitates before answering, his expression torn.

"Reid," Hotch says, voice instantly shifting into work mode.

"Can you come in? We have another case," Hotch’s voice crackles through the speak.

Spencer exhales sharply, his fingers tightening around the ring.

"Got it. I'll be there soon."

You close your eyes, shaking your head as a bittersweet smile tugs at your lips.

"See? Told you."

His jaw clenches. He doesn't want to leave. Not now.

Not when his whole future is sitting right in front of him, eyes full of love, lips parted as if you’re about to say yes.

Before he can think twice, he reaches for your hand, pressing the ring into your palm.

"Hold onto this for me," he whispers. "Because when I come back? I want to hear you say yes."

Your heart aches as he pulls away, already slipping on his shoes, grabbing his coat.

But before he leaves, he presses one last kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to remind you—he’s yours. No matter how many cases, how many goodbyes, he’ll always come back to you.

And when he does, he hopes you’ll be waiting with that ring on your finger.

Back at the BAU …

Spencer was everywhere, yet nowhere.

His mind was stuck on you, on what he had just done, on the ring now resting in your hands.

He couldn’t focus. He had imagined proposing to you for so long, but the reality of it—the way he’d rushed out before even hearing your answer—was gnawing at him.

"Everything okay, Spence?" JJ asked, her brows knitting together as she studied him.

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, though the faraway look in his eyes said otherwise. He let out a small breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "I just... I asked her to marry me, and now I’m here."

JJ’s eyes widened. "No way! Spence, that’s amazing!" A bright smile spread across her face.

Spencer swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he admitted, "I love her, JJ. I love her so much."

"I'm so happy for you," she said sincerely, squeezing his arm. "What did she say?"

A sheepish chuckle escaped him as he shook his head. "I—I didn’t wait for the answer," he confessed. "I got called in before she could say anything."

JJ gaped at him. "Spence!"

"What’s going on?" Derek asked as he walked up, noticing the look of disbelief on JJ’s face.

Spencer let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I just asked her to marry me."

Derek blinked. "Wait, hold up. You proposed? And now you’re here?"

Spencer nodded.

"And you didn’t get an answer?"

Spencer shook his head.

Derek let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Damn, pretty boy. That’s a bold move."

Spencer groaned, rubbing his temples. "I know. Trust me, I know."

JJ laughed softly. "Well, if it helps, I think we all know what she’s going to say."

Spencer exhaled, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips. He hoped so. God, he hoped so.

Because the moment he got back to you, he wasn’t going to let anything—not work, not fear, not uncertainty—stand in the way of his future with you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fics #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fem!reader #spencer reid fandom #my writing #my fluff #my blurbs #my fanfiction

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please-read-the-manga · 2 days ago

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I know this is an older post (and I agree with all of it), but I wanted to share something I read a while back that really changed my perception on this topic/the way I personally go about rationalizing/understanding why so much of what occurs with the Uchiha feels unsatisfying.

Here's a link to the thread (lots of cool opinions/thoughts are expressed on it), but I'll try to crudely summarize what resonated the most with me. "Kishimoto's Writing On the Uchiha is Unironically A Good Example of Real Life Pro-Genocide Propaganda" by u/LivingwithStupidity.

To save space, thoughts under the cut:

Outside of our major characters (who all, to some degree, largely play antagonistic roles ie. Madara, Obito, Itachi, Sasuke, even Fugaku), the Uchiha rarely exist outside of the context of the massacre and even then, they are largely voiceless and nameless. This dehumanizes them in the narrative and robs them of individuality, especially as time progresses within the series. We naturally forget, for example, about the sweet old Uchiha aunty that runs a clan store in Sasuke's memories because she's never shown or brought up again. Outside of some hints in Sasuke's initial memories of the event that do not get repeated, we're not shown different generations of characters remembering their fallen Uchiha comrades/school friends, during later flashbacks to past wars we're not shown different Uchiha clan members fighting in the background (even though they were major participants who gave their lives in battle/on behalf of the village and operated as a founding clan - the only exception to this is Kagami and he is notably used as an exception to 'typical' Uchiha), we're not shown academy teachers having to redo their class rosters because all of their young Uchiha students were murdered, we're not shown any characters looking at empty shop stalls that used to be manned by noncombatant Uchiha characters and commenting on that loss of life/what it means to the village, etc. The rest of the in-universe world moves on and none of our major characters really call back into focus the humanity that was indiscriminately annihilated through the massacre - it laps at the surface through Sasuke's character/actions, but outside of its first introduction, it's never (imo) that explicit again. The closest we get to a proper callback to callous loss of life is Sasuke's reaction to Danzo's arm where it's revealed he violated and mutilated Uchiha bodies... but even this, I fear, is a bit too subtle for some people and it gets overlooked. Later, when Sasuke goes on to rightfully call out Konoha's crimes he specifically mentions his mother, father, and brother - and, again, I don't think this is enough to remind some readers of the sheer gravity of the tragedy at play here. Maybe even just one more line here, that reminded the reader innocent children, the infirmed, and noncombatants were murdered in their beds too, would have gone a long way... but the narrative (pointedly, in my opinion) doesn't take that necessary step. The loss of life isn't felt as vividly as it should be and I think it gives many readers license to dismiss Sasuke's grief and mission as 'unwarranted' (and it inspires the braindead 'well so-and-so suffered too/lost xyz and they didn't react like that' arguments when this tragedy, if you're capable of deeper analysis, is on a completely different scale/underscores an extremely unique injustice that is personal to Sasuke). There is a weight applied to Itachi's crimes when they're being discussed, but the critical human piece seems to be missing (imo) - hundreds of families massacred in one night is replaced all too simply with 'the clan' and I think the impact of the former gets handwaved by the phrasing of the latter.

The faulty eugenics arguments also serve as a simplistic 'see-I-told-you-so' that satisfies far too many and seems to justify, in their eyes, the complete destruction of the Uchiha bloodline and culture. Personally, if I can get a little 'real-world' here, I wonder if this is partially a symptom of poor education on genocide/the history of genocide. To me, Tobirama's unproven, disingenuous presentation on 'Uchiha genes' just reeks of 'Der Untermensch' propaganda and I think some people are far too generous in granting allowances for his very obviously pointed hatred and bias against this clan of people, especially when his direct actions as a person in power helped give rise to the eventual elimination of the Uchiha. For many people, this is all they need to know to now wipe their hands of this 'debate', call Sasuke 'crazy' and an 'edgy emo worked up over nothing' and point to this hateful, whacko eugenicist character that claims the sharingan makes 'these people' crazy so, of course, they 'self-destructed' (even if that was not the truth), of course, they're 'all bad and not worthy of Sasuke's efforts to preserve their memory/bring them justice', etc. Again, this works hand-in-hand with the previous point where we are pointedly not reminded that babies, children and everyday people without the sharingan, the elderly/infirmed, anyone who maybe had a dissenting opinion on this alleged coup - all of them - were lumped together on the basis of their 'genetic disposition and biological deficiencies' and thereby slaughtered without remorse. Now certain people can comfortably read pages upon pages of Itachi wank and be content with the knowledge that what Itachi did was justified/for the best because, well, the Uchiha are all nut-jobs. Yep, every single one. It's in their blood... just round 'em up and kill 'em. Right? These takes are so disgusting and continue to persistent in this fandom.

Finally, as mentioned in this thread already, Itachi never comes full circle to acknowledge his own victimhood at the hands of the village nor does he express any direct regret of his actions against his kin. He does regret, partially, how he handled Sasuke (and imo even that gets less focus than I frankly feel it deserves within these discussions - not only did Itachi repeatedly torture and try to force his brother onto a path that suited Itachi/Itachi's whims he was also prepared to BRAINWASH his younger brother and, again, force him to serve the state regardless of Sasuke's own freewill/agency), but Itachi never outright states that he regrets the massacre specifically (just that things could have been different) nor does he draw his own conclusions about the village's failures and how he was absolutely groomed and victimized by Konoha's violent rhetoric + the greater shinobi system (particularly when Sasuke is trying to wrap his own head around this mess of contradictions). I mean, the weight of that is enormous and I think it's a disservice to both Sasuke and Itachi to not explore the implications of that. Editing to add (I had it in the tags, but I should probably put it here): I do think Itachi felt guilt, even if it wasn't completely articulated, and that is why he manipulated Sasuke into killing him, but the major problem (for myself and many) remains that to the very end he died proudly 'Itachi of Konoha' even though Konoha inexcusably harmed him, his beloved younger brother, and his entire family. Itachi acknowledging, in some way, that the village is harmful but there should be some way of fixing that (ie. inspiring Sasuke to contemplate how that could be/what that looks like) would have added some needed complexity to discourse centering on the harm of the shinobi world/what happens going forward. I'm aware there are different interpretations on Itachi's regret, I go back and forth on these interpretations.

All this to say, I would have loved to see more flashbacks with Sasuke exploring his relationship to his mother/father/other Uchiha clan members. I would have loved to see more Uchiha merchants/laborers (or general noncombatants), cousins that Sasuke played with and met up with after his classes, elders that would sneak him treats, etc.

Their clan-specific jutsu and symbols have meaning, there is cultural significance to them that Sasuke may or may not be familiar with and, in either case, that matters. When Sasuke realizes he'll never be able to ask his father or elders what 'xyz' means in relation to their clan and his heritage, that such knowledge is gone forever, that matters. When Sasuke starts to forget certain faces, or can't bring himself to recall those times without being reminded of their bloody slaughter (as Itachi designed), that matters. Anyone who thinks about what Sasuke has endured for more than 5 minutes likely understands that these conflicting feelings/questions constantly loom around his character - how does someone who has been through something so awful, who has completely lost everything, how do they continue to endure? But the issue, I think, is that the narrative fails to adequately highlight these ideas in a way that would not only be 1.) satisfying to those of us who resonate with/appreciate the character but 2.) be capable of inspiring empathy in readers who maybe don't have the background/knowledge/experience to grapple with the weight of Sasuke's reality (again, without more explicit focus from the narrative itself).

Naruto gets to see his father and mother in two extremely meaningful moments - they're story highlights for a reason. Naruto's experience with neglect, isolation, and lack of identity have been hallmarks informing his character since the beginning. That he is given the opportunity to directly reconcile with these feelings, is great, it's satisfying - we see how this character has hurt and how they've grown and we're happy to see them receive some semblance of closure after the difficult journey they've undergone. So, I'll always lament that the same was never extended to Sasuke. To have an alternative viewpoint to Itachi's, could have greatly influenced Sasuke's calculus as he tried to parse his thoughts/feelings regarding insurmountable grief, isolation, and loss. I mean, imagine if Fugaku and Mikoto were edo tensei'd... What would they have said to their youngest son who had been tasked with this impossible mission of bringing justice to their clan in the face of the pure evil injustice that the Leaf did to them? Would he have been given peace? Would they have relieved him of his quest so that he no longer needed to suffer? Would he listen? Idk, man, we were able to waste so many chapters on random fodder characters during the war arc, we couldn't be bothered to interact with any other Uchiha?

But... if we did present other Uchiha for the purpose of exploring what closure looks like for Sasuke (even outside of Fugaku and Mikoto, though I think they could have worked too), then we would be humanizing them in a way that conflicts with what the narrative seems to want us to take away from the village's (and Itachi's) actions. We can't humanize the Uchiha without calling out this horrifying wrong the Leaf has exercised... especially if there will not be any retribution (and that could be a fascinating story to explore, a really realistic one too lol - but I don't personally think that was the narrative's intention).

It really does just feel like a missed opportunity/mishandling of 'what could have been' at the end of the day. We have hints to this greater, underexplored Uchiha lore that are fascinating - like the Uchiha relationship to the Nekobaa, the Nakano shrine the Uchiha faithfully tended for generations, and Sasuke and Itachi having their fight in what was notably an impressive clan structure far from the village.

This was a group of people connected through a deep, rich culture. They weren't 'nobodies', they weren't 'crazy and irredeemable' - they were people and the narrative would love for you to forget that.

On one level I feel like Sasuke’s idealization of Itachi towards the end is mostly a product of Kishimoto’s desire to have all the characters glorify Itachi and treat him like a saint so he can have his tragic plot twist hero character and no one questions how fucked up it is and so he can erase the rest of Sasuke’s clan and connections to his family but on the other I do think elements of it are realistic given how Obito kept telling Sasuke how much Itachi sacrificed for him and how his own sense of purpose and ideals and sense of self had already been tied to Itachi (antagonistically) for so long through trying to kill him, and how desperate he was to be loved in a way that connected him to his family. And he didn’t actually really believe that what Itachi did was right—if he had he wouldn’t have yelled at him for answers when he came back and he wouldn’t have chosen to oppose Konoha and the kages and essentially gone directly against everything Itachi stood for. I think the fact that on a very fundamental level he opposes the ideology that Itachi upheld but still feels a certain empathy for him and responsibility to him and contextualizes his worldview in reference to him does sort of make sense in a very sad way even if he would be completely justified in feeling nothing but hatred for him forever. I don’t think it was a good choice to have him refer to him in such heroic/valorizing terms though, and if that was going to be the case I wish we had seen a progression that didn’t result in concession to Konoha wherein he could accept that seeing Itachi in any kind of heroic light was deeply inaccurate and unhealthy

#Sometimes I wonder if the subject matter was just too mature for the manga to handle. You can't play lightly with what happened to -#- the Uchiha... not when there is historical precedent of governments doing this in reality and using similar methods of dehumanization -#- to justify their grave injustice.#Disclaimer that I don't 'hate' Itachi or Tobirama - they're complicated and glaringly realistic in their flaws so let's talk about that.#Says 'I'm going to summarize' proceeds to ramble way too much - my b lol.#Anti Konoha #Pro Uchiha #Pro Sasuke #Naruto #Sasuke Uchiha #Itachi Uchiha #Uchiha Clan #Itachi Critical #Tobirama Critical

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alwaysobsessed777 · 3 days ago

Note

okok so for the nika angst how about it’s something with her injury and reader trying to help her and it’s appreciated but nika feels helpless since reader helps with everything and nika starts closing herself off ??

idk something like that 🤷‍♀️

FINE LINE - N.M

finally finished this one after the long day I had (which was literally just shopping and watching the UConn game). So please...enjoyyy and hopefully it's not to bad.

Not sure the word count but there is no warnings!!

"hey, Niks. I'm gonna head to work, um, do you need anything before I go?" A simple question. Nothing that could be taken the wrong way.

"Nope."

"Okay...I'll pick something up for us to eat on my way home, if you want me too."

"Sounds good."

My lips form a thin line, "Okay, just text me something you'd want. I love you."

"Love you."

I didn't want to think to much into it, but since nika's injury, I've tried my best to be the supportive girlfriend who stays by her side. But something just seems off with her anymore. I don't know if it's just the fact that's she's injured that keeps her down...or if I'm smothering her with my presence.

I made my way to work, helping the Seattle storm players stay up on workouts and anything else they needed. Quickly, I finished whatever paperwork was thrown at me. At this point, the job had lost its charm. Everything felt broken. Between the players, the staff, everything was finally falling apart...and I had no control over it.

"You good there?" Jewell's voice broke through whatever had been brewing in my mind.

"I guess," rummaging through the file I had been trying to sort, something to keep my mind off everything else. Which, clearly wasn't working.

The woman moved her way to the desk, leaning against it, "you don't sound so sure."

"I'm not."

The teasing seemed to dissipate once those two words left my mouth. "Y/n, is everything good? If you needa talk, the teams right here."

"I...I don't know. Everything seems to be falling apart." Jewell titled her head, as if to tell me to keep going.

"The team is falling apart. Whether it's the staff or it's the players. Then there was nika's injury...and I feel like I'm losing her. She barely talks to me, I can't tell if I'm doing to much or not enough." I hadn't even realized the tears that started to fall, Jewell coming up to me to hold my hands, "I just feel like everything is slowly freeing itself from my grasp...and I can't do anything about it but watch. Watch the team start to hate each other. Watch everyone I work with rip each other's throats out cause there's no way for communication. And...and then watch my girlfriend fall deeper into whatever mental crisis she's going through until there's no way of getting her back." The sobs were uncontrollable. I hadn't realized how much I needed to talk to someone. I was so focused on everyone else. I forgot about myself, the one thing that was supposed to matter the most I let slip the furthest away from me.

"Hey, y/n, just take the rest of the day off," I went to argue, but Jewell just shook off my response, "don't worry about the team, don't worry about anyone in this building...other than you."

"I can't just leave."

"I'll talk to someone, explain what's going on. They'll understand, everyone needs a mental health day every once in awhile," The woman's soft smile sent a wave of comfort over me. The first feeling of comfort I've had in awhile, "and about Nika...I'm sure she's dealing with a lot. Going through an injury like an ACL tear, it takes a toll on every aspect of your life. Now I'm not giving her a reason to shut you out...but give her just a little bit of leeway."

I nod, fighting the urge to crash into her and just hug her....which goes right out the window the second she opens her arms inviting me in. Without a second thought, I bury my face in her shoulder, trying to take the comfort the woman was offering.

"How do I even talk to Nika? I've tried...nothing seems to bring her back to me...." Had I tried hard enough? Was it really my fault for her drifting away from me?

"Like I said, I'm sure there's a lot going on in that thick head of hers," a small chuckle escaped my lips, "but I'm sure she'll have a reason that made sense to her on why she was pushing you away. And please, if it's extremely stupid...let me know and I'll prove her how stupid that move was."

A smile spreads across my lips, "thanks Jewells...I needed this."

"I know...you looked like you were gonna throw this desk at me when I walked in."

"Whatever...I'm gonna go talk to Nika. I just need to know she's okay."

Jewell seemed to soften even more, "Nika is gonna be okay. Now or even a month away from now...she's gonna be okay."

"Thank you," she pulled me into another hug, letting me go, allowing me to make my way back to the apartment my girlfriend and I shared. The small place we've started to call home after just a couple months. Meeting about a year ago at UConn, the giant campus somehow leading to us meeting each other at one of the many cafes that were scattered throughout it. The way I had finished my studies for physical therapy and she had just finished her last year on the basketball team. I had been praying to get a job for Seattle storm since I was little, not being able to play but hoping to help the people who did. Then, Nika got drafted, sending her straight my way. We got close over her training camp days, which lead to her making the team, to her needing a place. I just happened to overhear and offered her a spot in my apartment. Little did I know she'd end up being my girlfriend a month later.

But here I was today...reminiscing the last couple months like our relationship was in the past. A sudden wash of dread spread throughout me, stopping me from getting out of my car as I sat in front of the apartment. I almost had to bribe myself with the fact that if I got everything out now, it'd all be fixed later.

Opening the door to the small place left me sick, walking up the stairs to our shared room was even worse. I stood in front of the closed door, quiet sounds floated around from the TV. I knocked a couple times; no answer. I opened the door slowly, catching Nika sitting upright - hair down, hood over her head, covers pulled up to her chin - a dead stare right at the TV. Not even a little acknowledgement of me being her.

"Hey," it came out rough, hoarse. My nerves became uneasy. Knocking her head to the side, her eyes fell on mine, but it lasted no more than a second. "Can we talk?"

Nika tensed, "about what?"

I made my way to the bed, sitting beside the girl, "Us."

"Us?" Her head snapped in my direction. A wash of worry or nervousness flooded her face.

"Yeah," fidgeting with my hands, I continued, "Are you not happy...like...in our relationship? Am I being to much? Or maybe I'm not enough for you? Maybe I wasn't able to help you like I thought I would? I don't know, I probably shouldn't have brought you back here, to Seattle, when you could've just went back hom-"

Nika's hands made contact with mine, her body moved to be faced towards me. "Are you unhappy?"

"...I...I don't know."

Nika's eyes widened, shock, worry, nervousness, anything and everything seemed to hit her like a truck in that very moment. "Y/n...I'm sorry...maybe we should end things."

Tears swelled in my eyes, this wasn't anything that I was expecting. "You wanna break it off?"

"I...I don't know," the girl started, staring off at the small contact that we were making, "maybe it'll be better for you. You could live your life without worrying about me 24/7. Maybe you'll find more time to be with your friends instead of stuck in bed with me. Maybe you'll start to love your job again without having to worry if I'm upset that you get to work and I don't. Maybe you'll be able to actually live your life without having to worry about the disappointment you come home to everyday. Maybe you'll be able to find someone who will be able to treat you the way you're supposed to be treated. I love you too much to keep you stuck in the house with me. I love you so much I need to let you have a life, not for you to only care about mine."

Tears fell from her cheeks, sobs erupted out of me. The stress and hurt of Nika's words hitting me harder than anything else ever has. "Nika...I love you...I don't want anything but you."

Nika shook her head, "no...I'm a burden on you...I can't hold you down anymore."

"Nika...please...I can't live without you. I would do anything for you...even if it's ruining my life, I would ruin my life over and over again before I let you go." The brunette couldn't keep eye contact. Anything was better than looking at me at this moment. "Nika, I'm not letting you break us up."

"Why? I can't be the girlfriend you deserve. I'm stuck here...and you just get stuck with me."

"I wouldn't want it any other way, Niks."

Her eyes fell on mine, "I just don't understand...I can't even stand myself right now."

"And I will always be able to stand you... I'll do more than just 'stand' you, Nika, I'm always gonna love you." Her eyes fell again, she pulled me into her. A hug. The first one she's initiated in awhile.

"I'm sorry," her voice breaking, "I...I just want you to be happy."

"I'm always happy...but that's only because I'm with you, Nika."

She let out a soft chuckle, "I don't know what I'd do without you, y/n/n."

A smile, small, but still a smile stretched across my face, "I don't know what you'd do either."

She moved to look me in the face, "you're the only thing that's getting me through this injury...I hope you know that."

"I'm just glad to hear I'm helping you at all," I take her hand in mine, a soft spark ignited between us.

"I know I haven't said it to you-"

"you haven't really said much in awhile."

Her face softened more, "I know, and I'm sorry about that, but I just want to let you know... you're more than enough for me. Over the last couple weeks...I had this feeling that I was becoming a burden on you...and I thought if I separated myself from you, you'd finally realize I wasn't enough for you."

"Nika..."

"Y/n...I want nothing more than you in my life, always and forever."

"And you'll get that...cause I'm not going anywhere." A easy quiet settled between us, she moved to lay in my arms while I rubbed gently on her arm. Her breaths seemed to fall into a steady pace, a pattern. She fell asleep...in my arms...but things just felt easier. A weight lifted off my shoulder, and I'm sure it was the same for her.

I placed a soft kiss on her head, settling my head on hers. Drifting away to sleep that was almost inevitable, I whispered three words, "I love you." Those three words I would never go without telling the woman in my arms. I wanted her to know I meant them ...even in her worst moments.

A/n hopefully this is to your liking (the person who requested this) and it was more angsty than what I usually write.

#wbb #nika muhl #wnba basketball #wnba #wcbb #wnba players #uconn wbb #womens basketball #wbb x reader #nika muhl x reader

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nicolgue · 2 days ago

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Blessed By Love And War

Summary: Love and war is not something that you would think goes together but what happens when they do? You are the daughter of a Greek king friend of Odysseus and Penelope, what happens when you and Telemachus fall in love in the events of the Odyssey?

Warnings: A cute chapter, a little bit of angst maybe, possible spelling mistakes.

A/N: sorry for the delay of the second chapter I promise not to post with such long dates I have just been very busy, art it's not mine and don't copy my work.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

"You and Telemachus are now betrothed" were the words that changed your life forever.

So here you were three years later on a boat to Ithaca , you had to delay your arrival in Ithaca for reasons of both families, from you family it was for the wedding of your older brother and for the family of Ithaca because of some suitors of Queen Penelope, but after three years it was time to go to your new home to spend the rest of your life there alongside Telemachus, your betrothed and future husband.

You weren't against the idea of marrying Telemachus if you were honest you really, really, really like Telemachus the thing it's that you hate being lied to or that people keep things from you and you have the suspicion that Telemachus already knew about the marriage before they told you and it was a struggle inside you because you were happy that you were going to marry Telemachus but at the same time you were angry at the possibility that he knew and didn't told you.

"Something on your mind dear?" Asked your mother, she is accompanying you on your trip she will stay a few days and then return to your kingdom until the day of the wedding.

You sigh softly and look at your mother "I just..." You sight again "I don't like the idea of prince Telemachus lying to me".

"What do you mean dear?" Your mother had a face of confusion and surprise.

"It's just that he knew about the possible engagement and didn't tell me anything even though I was confused" I told her, her eyes softened at your words and she gave you a smile

"Well queen Penelope probably told him not to say anything until it was decided by both families, don't be angry dear he probably was following instructions or he was too nervous to tell you, after all he has known you all he's life, don't think too much about it, everything it's going to be okay" she kissed your head softly and turned to continue seeing the sea while traveling. It was strange for you how she was so calmed but it helped even a little so you did what she said and didn't think too much of it.

"Mother?" You asked your mom

"Yes dear?" She looked at you with those eyes that told you that everything would be okay even if it didn't look like it.

"Will you keep visiting me? I mean now that I'll be living in Ithaca?" You were scared that now that you were about to be married in a few years she would no longer visit or want to see you.

"Of course dear, I will visit even more often now that my precious daughter is there" she kisses your forehead again and embraced you in a hug. "Don't be afraid darling, everything will be okay" she tells you one last time and you believe her.

You arrived at Ithaca in the afternoon, Queen Penelope and Telemachus were already expecting you, Queen Penelope took you to your rooms your mom to a guest room and you to other.

"This is your temporary room while the wedding arrives, were delighted to have you here Princess Y/N" she tells you with a smile on her face "Rest for a little bit and then we'll have dinner"

"Thank you Queen Penelope" I tell her bowing my head.

That night at dinner the dining room was filled mostly with talk between your mother and Queen Penelope, Telemachus was mostly quiet like always and you were in your head trying to get used to the idea of your new home. It was like a dream because you had always liked Telemachus but you didn't want to leave your family, the first night at Ithaca was the hardest for you because you kept reminding yourself that this was no longer the palace you grew up with, it wasn't sadness or something it was mostly nostalgia.

Your mother left and two weeks passed by, you and Telemachus didn't talked, why you ask? Well in your part was because in your head was the voice that told you that Telemachus knew about your engagement and didn't say anything to you. Now Telemachus was nervous and scared that you didn't like him and even you would like to cancel the engagement. Three weeks passed and you were taking a stroll around the gardens it was the only place you liked to have strolls around now that the suitors where around the palace and it was the only place where they didn't dare to be around so you enjoyed taking strolls around the gardens, still you had to have a maid around you but you didn't mind, sometimes you would talk to her and sometimes you just walked in silence. You were walking around the garden when you spotted Telemachus looking at you and he smiled at you, sometimes you tonight that maybe he was just nervous but when he smiled at you like that you weren't so sure. You were so caught in your thoughts that you didn't see him approaching you until he was right in front of you.

"Y/N hello" he said while having a smile, a nervous smile?

"Hello, what brings you here?" You ask him.

"I actually wanted to talk to you" Some kind of hesitation was clear in he's eyes. "Sure, what is it?" I asked.

"Not here" he took your hand and led you to the path that took you to the benches, the bench between the two arched trees, the place where you realized you liked Telemachus, he extended he's hand inviting you to sit down, you sat on the bench and he sat next to you, he still looked scared but there was a look of courage?

"So I wanted to ask you something if it's okay with you?" He looked at you with those eyes that made your heart jumo and forget that you were angry at him.

"Ask me" I said while looking at him

"So the last weeks I have noticed that your distant, I don't know I feel like it and I wanted to ask if you didn't like the idea of us being married?" Wow that straight forward, you weren't expecting him to ask you that. Something in he's eyes told you that it was okay to tell him the truth.

"Well I'm not against the engagement but I need to ask you something too" You try to look serious, even angry. He nods at you signaling that you can ask. "So I wanted to know if you knew about the possibility of us being engaged and if you did why didn't you tell me?" You see a spark of sadness and even fear flash throw he's face.

"Well i did know about the engagement but let me explain" he's eyes changed to ones of pleading "I did know about the engagement because I was the first one to suggest it, when I told my mom she asked me not to say anything to you until it was settled between your mother and your brother"

"Why did you suggest the marriage?" He probably did because of some diplomatic thing, he probably didn't even liked you, he probably just was doing the best for Ithaca you though.

"Well if I'm being totally honest with you I... I have l... liked you all my life, and after the first time I brought you here I realized that I wanted to marry you but we were kids and I said to myself that it was just a crush maybe but when I turned sixteen I just knew I wanted you to be my wife so I told my mother and she was enlightened because she always wanted us to be married" He told you. So he liked you? He really liked you the way you liked him. "Of course if you don't feel the same it's okay"

"I feel the same way" you don't know we're that courage came from but you just let it out "I think I've liked you all my life but I realized it the day you brought me here too and believe I'm really excited to marry you I was just afraid the you hadn't told me because it was just a diplomatic contract" You pour out your feelings and your fears.

"No, no, no, I really didn't tell you because of my mother but I really really like you" he said taking your hand in he's.

"Then that's makes the two of us" You said taking he's hand too.

After that day the dining room was filled with talk between you, Telemachus and Queen Penelope, he took you to strolls around the palace at least two times the week and every time your eyes locked he smiled at you even sometimes he blew you a kiss with he's hand. You still missed your family of course but it was still worth to be in Ithaca. Everything was perfect.

Little did you know about what was to happen next in the palace.

#telemachus #telemachus x reader #epic the musical #jorge rivera herrans #greek mythology #friends to lovers

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joelmillerisapunk · 5 hours ago

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okay thank you for all the tags loves my heart is full <3 @baronessvonglitter @604to647 @sawymredfox @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @slimybeth69 @ace-turned-confused

Okay so obviously terminating any of these men kills me because it should be smash marry smash. I spent the night thinking long and hard about this so lets dive in:

Round 1:

Smash: Dave York -> I have only recently experienced this man, watched the movie, read some fics and hot damn I would smash him all day even if he would stalk me afterward yes murder daddy yes please murder my pussy

Marry: Javi G -> I think this is obvious because like its JAVI G?! he is ultimate hubby material no explanation needed

Terminate: Pero -> no thank you bye bye mr. Tovar I am not even remotely attracted to you and I know nothing of you but no thanks. And I think this is the only boy I would not give a smash pass to ever he is just too dirty for me.

Round 2:

Smash: Ezra -> It's the way he speaks for me that's pretty much it, he really does it for me on some deep feral level but I don't think I could not marry him he would piss me the fuck off so fast

Marry: Oberyn -> Beause "he is the slut I wish I was" and who doesn't want to have orgies with beautiful people for the rest of your days. I have never seen GoT but I would marry him. Not only is he incredibly beautiful, the voice (yes I definitely have a thing for voices) his wardrobe?

Terminate: Marcus -> Sorry babe, you're so hot and so sweet but I think you're too sweet for meeeeee (hehehe) This Narcos remake was not it even though I have watched it twice. I need a man to degrade me

Round 3:

Smash: Whiskey -> I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR I WOULD DIE FOR HIM. HE IS SO DAMN HOT AND COCKY AND I NEED IT IN ME ON ME BENEATH ME IN MY MOUTH ALL AROUND ME.

Marry: Tim -> Because I feel like he would be so good to me but he could probably be the most feral boy in bed once you cut deep beneath his layers. He's already tortured from the merge mansion case I bet he could take it out on me in bed

Terminate: Din -> I am sorry to everyone who loves this man sized tin can but I have not seen the show and the fact I can only see him as a tin man is giving wizard of oz vibes for me which is hurting the only delicious thing about him his voice... If anything I'll get off on audio clips of him speaking

Round 4:

Here is where I cheat because fuck the rules... I am smashing Dieter and Lucien -> they both give me the same energy I couldn't marry them as I fear they would be too obnoxious for me and Dieter may eat me out of kit kats but I would smash them together at the same time and separately all day every day. I also feel like we could add another beautiful woman to this and that makes me happy too

Marry: Javi P -> I NEED HIM IN THE MOST FERAL YEARNING LONGING WAY POSSIBLE. This man does it over and over and over again for me. He's the hottest man in the world, he smokes (which shouldn't do it for me but does) he's tortured, I can fix him, his puppy dog eyes. I know he fucks like an animal and he's willing to tie me up. He would also die for me this I know. I think underneath the layers he's a perfect husband deep down and I just love him more than life itself.

Round 5: Nope. I will marry and smash them all every day all day. Brother-husbands. I am breaking every rule but EXCUSE ME?! this one is ridiculous. Smash and pass me around. you literally get the best of every single world here and now I need to go write a fic about them as my brother-husbands

thanks for coming to my ted talk

npt to everyone because I want to see everyone's answers and if you wanna do it consider yourself tagged also please I am dying for the entire worlds answers: @thundermartini @evolnoomym @aurorawritestoescape @ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @reddedmiller @gothcsz @almostempty @arcanefox207 @probablyreadinsmut @sunshinehaze1 @sunshineispunk @dilf-hunter-fantasies @nicolethered @kedsandtubesocks @toxicanonymity @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @myownwholewildworld @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @angiewatson @persephone-girl @swankyorange

Comment who you’d choose from each round 👀🥵

#🏷️ tag games.

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meinkatzchen · 2 days ago

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I saw these lovely scarfs on pinterest and thought it'd be cool to see ren and mist in them. Also if it's not to much of a odd question, dose mist have a favourite plush too??

(also hope your okay and doing well too mein!!)

THIS IS SOOOO CUTE!!-`♡´-`♡´- I wanted to draw something wintery and here it is :3

Mist would definitely take a red scarf, it's her favorite color, Ren will then get the yellow scarf ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ohhh, actually, while I was drawing this scene, so many ideas for "normal life" AU came to my mind. For example, Mist has never seen snow before, she was born in a place where there is no winter, so walking through snowy Canada with Ren would be amazing for her. But cat-girl also doesn't handle the cold as well as the heat, so fox-boy could carry something like a thermos of warm tea or take-away coffee for her, as a caring gesture to warm her up -`♡´-

As for her favorite plush, I think she really likes different plush bunnies and kittens, they are just so cute and fluffy!

Since we're talking about "normal life", I'll answer this question right away too.

This is a difficult question and I would like to believe that everything could be fine for them, that they, for example, would somehow escape or Strade would simply die, and they would be found, sent to therapy with specialists, but…I don't know- I can imagine their normal life within the AU, yes. But…the human psyche is a very delicate mechanism and some breakdowns in it can be suppressed, driven deep into the subconscious, but if some trigger happens, everything will burst out again and cause even more damage. I'm not trying to say that it is impossible to cure victims after kidnapping and violence, but it could be lifelong treatment, including going to a psychologist, taking medication, a lot of support from relatives and friends. But I still want to believe that they would have their own chance for a happy ending, even if their therapy lasted the rest of their lives.

#ask

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captain-ravioli7321 · 22 hours ago

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lyrics from the OTHER tptm songs i think the girls would relate to

Disposable Girl: "the sound of a guitar eternally tuned wrong, the break-up before you're performing a love song" (Refraction Girl)

Irreverent Girl: "Sinful desires festering, Under my pelt they crawl" (Taxidermy Girl)

Splitter Girl: "have i been bitter for so fucking long that everybody i love forgot who I was?" (Chemical Girl)

Faineant Girl: "statue of glass tries to break free, no more treatment, no more waiting" (Refraction Girl)

Caliber Girl: "swear to god, all I've done is my best, but I always get treated like I'm different from the rest" (Disposable Girl)

Chocolate-Box Girl: "to be a girl is to be trapped. a delicacy never unwrapped, an innocence forever in-tact" (Taxidermy Girl)

Taxidermy Girl: "growing up, I'd have these urges I'd feel bad about, but I'm done feeling guilty, I'll take these thoughts and tear them out." (Splitter Girl)

Chemical Girl: "if I can't be perfect, I don't want to be anything at all" - Caliber Girl

Refraction Girl: "i miss a life i never had, the everything I could've been; I hope they never have to understand the kind of pain i'm in." (Faineant Girl)

#tptm #the post traumatic manifesto #weevildoing #the post traumatic manifesto girls #disposable girl #taxidermy girl #irreverent girl #splitter girl #faineant girl #chocolate box girl #chemical girl #caliber girl #refraction girl

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tetsuswaifu · 2 days ago

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Happy Birthday Rinnie

Suna celebrates his birthday reluctantly with his friends and you, but the night ends with heartfelt confessions and an unspoken shift in your relationship.

word count: 2230

a/n: rinnies bday was the perfect motivation to get back into writing, i have a lot of stuff in the works plus a masterlist that'll be coming up soon, hope you enjoy :) i posted this a day late by accident, oh well 🫶🏼

likes, reblogs, replies, and requests are always appreciated, thank you for taking the time to read my work :)

Suna didn’t want a big celebration. Birthdays, in his opinion, were just another day. But you and his friends thought otherwise, insisting on taking him out for his special day. The venue—a karaoke room—was the last place he expected to be celebrating. You and the boys had promised it would be a 'chill night,' filled with drinks and the usual good vibes, just like any other hangout. Yet here he was, slouched in a booth, arms crossed, and wearing an unimpressed expression as Atsumu butchered yet another song.

At least you had been thoughtful enough to kick things off earlier with a quieter gesture—showing up at his place earlier in the day with a bag of his favorite candy, chupets, and a birthday card with a cute note written inside.

"You didn't have to," he said as he took the bag, glancing down at the card in your handwriting.

"I know," you'd replied with a shrug, your tone casual but warm. "But it's your birthday. I figured someone should spoil you a little," a soft smile on your face as you made eye contact.

"Thank you." he gave you a small nod and tucked the bag into his hoodie pocket—but you caught the faintest hint of a smile as he read the card.

Now, as Atsumu's voice cracked in the worst way possible, Suna popped one of the chupets into his mouth, enjoying the fruity flavor. He didn't even try to hide his smirk as the rest of the table burst into laughter at Atusmu's expense.

"Are you tone-deaf, or are you doing this on purpose?" Suna deadpanned, taking a sip of his drink.

"Oi, I sound fantastic!" Atsumu barked back, gripping the mic like his life depended on it. "Y/N's probably swoonin' right now!"

You snorted in response, unable to hold back your laughter. "If by 'swooning' you mean trying not to cry from secondhand embarrassment, then yeah, sure."

Osamu nearly spat out his drink, doubling over with laughter, while Suna let out a quiet chuckle beside you. "Sounds about right," Suna muttered in agreement, smirking.

"I will give it to you, you at least have some what of a stage presence," you teased Atsumu.

Suna tilted his head slightly toward you, "Stage presence doesn't save him from being terrible, though."

You chuckled, nudging his arm. "You're one to talk, Mr. 'I'll Just Sit in the Corner and Judge Everyone'. When's your turn?"

He didn't reply right away. Instead, he casually pulled out his phone and aimed it at Atsumu, who was currently belting out a high note so off-key that even the karaoke machine seemed to struggle keeping up.

"What are you doing?" you asked, leaning closer to peek at his screen.

"Documenting this," he said flatly, his thumb tapping the screen to record. "For posterity. Or blackmail."

You burst out laughing, trying to keep quiet so Atsumu wouldn't notice. "He's gonna kill you when he finds out." You paused, "Also, send me that, would you?"

"He won't, and you bet," he replied, completely unfazed. "I've got a whole folder of these. He's never caught on."

Your laughter only grew, and you had to stifle it with your hand. Meanwhile, Atsumu threw his whole body into the final note, eyes closed like he was performing for an audience of thousands.

"Perfect," Suna muttered under his breath as he ended the recording, tucking his phone back into his pocket with the faintest smirk of satisfaction.

Suna raised an eyebrow at your previous comment, his tone dripping with mock disbelief. "Also, do you really think I'm gonna get up there and make a fool of myself? On my birthday?" holding his hand up to his chest with slight sass. "Yeah, no thanks."

"Who said you had to be good?" you said with a grin. "Just sing something. It's your birthday, Suna. Live a little." you softly nudged his arm again.

Before he could respond, Atsumu's voice cracked in the worst way possible, all of you erupting in laughter. Even Suna couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped him.

"Okay, okay, that's enough of you," Osamu said, pulling the mic out of his twin's hands. "I'll save the night. Lemme show you how it's done."

"Good luck followin' that act of brilliance," Atsumu slurred, flopping into the seat beside you.

Osamu rolled his eyes as he chose a vocally demanding song. His smooth, steady voice filling the room as the group quieted to listen. You leaned closer to Suna, your shoulder brushing his. "See? Not so bad when someone who can actually sing is up there," you whispered.

Suna hummed in agreement, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "You're next," he said suddenly.

Your eyes widened. "Wait, what? No, I—"

"Yup. It's settled," Suna said, cutting you off as he leaned back in his seat. "You made me come here. Least you can do is sing something. Fair trade."

"But I wasn't the one complaining," you protested, your voice hushed as Osamu continued his song.

Suna's lips curved back into a smirk, his tone teasing. "You don't wanna leave me hanging on my birthday, do you?" He challenged you with his eye contact.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," he said, clearly enjoying himself.

When Osamu's song ended, you all clapped, and Atsumu immediately began scrolling through the song list for his next pick. Before he could choose, Suna casually pointed at you.

"Your turn," he announced, his voice calm but loud of enough to catch the twins attention.

They turned to you, and you shot Suna a glare. He looked completely unbothered, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned on the table.

"Do it!" Atsumu cheered, slapping the table. "C'mon Y/N, let's hear that beautiful voice!"

"Don't worry, it's just us, Y/N," Osamu said, far less obnoxious but still encouraging.

With no escape from this scenario, you sighed dramatically and grabbed the mic. "Fine, but if I'm embarrassing myself, I'm blaming you," jutting your chin in Suna's direction.

"You'll be great," he said, his smirk softening into something almost fond.

You scrolled through the long song list, your nerves easing a bit when you found one you liked. As the music started, you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way Suna's eyes stayed on you.

The guy's cheered you on as you sang, Atsumu waving his arms like you were performing in an arena. Even Suna, who usually masked his emotions, looked quietly impressed, his lips twitching into a smile when you hit the chorus. When you finished, they erupted into applause and yells of praise. You put the mic back in the stand and returned to your seat with a flushed face.

"See?" Suna said as you sat back down, slightly breathless from your performance. "Not bad."

"Not bad?" Atsumu repeated, still waving his arms around. "That was amazing! Ya totally showed me up!"

"Not a hard thing to do," Osamu deadpanned, but his tone was warm as he gave you an approving nod. "Good job. Saved the night after 'Tsumu nearly burst everyone's eardrums."

"Hey!" Atsumu shot back, attempting to glare at his twin but slumping further into his seat, his head lolling against the backrest.

You stifled a laugh, leaning closer to Suna. "I think he's officially tapped out for the night," you murmured.

Suna glanced at Atsumu, then Osamu, his expressiuon unreadable but his eyes sharp. "Yeah, he can barely keep his head up. Let's wrap it up before someone has to carry him out."

"Yeah, you read my mind, pal," Osamu was already standing to gather their things. "C'mon, 'Tsumu. Time to go."

"Guy's, I'm fine!" Atsumu protested, throwing an arm around his brothers shoulders. "Let's do another round!"

"Yeah, no." Osamu replied flatly, struggling to hold his twin upright with a grunt. "Y/N, thanks for tonight. Suna, happy birthday and make sure you get home in one piece, yeah?"

"Always do," Suna said with a shrug, standing and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Thanks for coming, guys," you said, waving at the twins as they stumbled toward the door together. Osamu shot you a grateful look, while Atsumu was too busy humming a tune to notice much of anything.

When the door closed behind them, the karaoke room felt quieter, more intimate. Suna was leaning against the wall now, his eyes fixed on you.

"So," you said, grabbing your belongings. "Guess it's just us now."

"Guess so," he replied, pushing his shoulders off the wall and falling into step beside you as you walked out of the bar. The night air was cooler than you expected, making you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself.

The two of you walked in companionable silence for a while, the muffled sounds of the city filling the gaps between your words. You could feel his presence beside you—calm, steady, but something in his silence felt... different tonight.

"You know," you said breaking the quiet, "I didn't think you'd actually enjoy tonight."

Suna's hands were stuffed into his hoodie pocket, his gaze focused ahead, but there was a flicker of something soft in his expression. "I didn't think I would either."

You gave him a sideways glance, your lips twitching into a smile. "But you did, right?"

He let out a soft chuckle, his hooded eyes meeting your gaze. "Yeah. Especially now that I have those embarrassing videos of Atsumu drunk." He paused, "But yeah, you got me. It wasn't as bad as I thought.

You laughed, "Wow, high praise," you teased, your voice light. "Maybe I should've gotten you a cake too."

Suna stopped walking suddenly, and you turned to look at him in surprise. His gaze was uncharacteristically serious.

"Y/N," he said quietly, taking his hands out of his pocket. “Thanks. For tonight. For dragging me out, for putting up with all of it… for just… being there.” He reached a hand out to grab one of yours, giving it a squeeze.

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, squeezing his hand back. Smiling up at him, “I told you—you deserve to be celebrated, even if you don’t think so.”

He stared at you a moment longer, taking in all your beautiful features. He sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at your entertwined hands, “You’re too good to me,” he muttered.

Before you could respond, Suna pulled you closer with the hand he was holding. You barely had a moment to register the shift before your back met the cool surface of the wall of the nearby building. His eyes, usually so calm and unreadable, were now searching yours, filled with something you couldn't quite place—but it made your heart race.

"Do you have any idea," his voice low, careful, "how much I... how much tonight meant to me?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words didn't come. Before you could find them, Suna leaned in, brushing his lips against yours, testing, waiting. The hesitation melted away as you leaned into him, your fingers gripping the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.

The kiss deepened, slow but fervent, like he was pouring everything he couldn't say into it. His hand slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that sent a warm shiver down your spine. He kissed you as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the city noise fading into a distant hum.

When he pulled back, it was only for a moment—just enough to catch his breath, his forehead pressing against yours. His hand lingered on your cheek, his touch grounding and soft.

"You make everything better. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time," he whispered, his voice soft but carrying a weight that made your chest tighten in the best way.

You smiled, your fingers still gripping the front of his hoodie. "You're such a sap tonight," you teased lightly, your voice slightly breathless but warm.

"Don't tell anyone," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk. "Gotta keep my reputation intact."

You laughed softly, the sound easing the intensity of the moment. "Your secret's safe with me."

Suna pulled back just enough to see your eyes, something unspoken passing between you. Then, without a word, he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The two of you started walking again, the quiet city streets stretching ahead. The chill in the air seemed to fade, the warmth of his hand grounding you as you walked side by side.

"So," you began, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "Does this mean you owe me now for dragging you out tonight? Maybe next time you're the one planning something fun."

"Don't push your luck," he said, though the squeeze of his hand against yours betrayed his dry tone.

"Noted," you replied with a grin.

The conversation shifted easily, flowing into a casual back-and-forth as if nothing monumental had just happened between you. But as you glanced at your intertwined hands, a warm sense of certainty settled over you.

Whatever this was between you and Suna, it didn't need to be said aloud. It was already understood.

#hq suna #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x y/n #happy birthday rinnie #happy birthday suna #happy birthday rintaro #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆tetsuswaifu original post

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mrs-starkgaryen · 2 days ago

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This chapter has me like

Girl where do I start? The wording in this was 😘🤌

Let's dive in to my analysis like I'm back at uni-

1. "You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean."

A) This symbolises their relationship will feel like they're flying high at one but come crashing down eventually. Whether that be one of them dies, personal issues or LA fucks them up.

B) my first thought reading 'Titantic' was 😱 the last time I read something about the Titantic was your last Aegon x Reader but they both survived... Is this your way of hinting that they won't be so lucky this time to have a happy ever after?

2. "He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

A) Forget reader, does he want to bend me over? This was so hot, he loves taking care of us.

B) Is this because he's used to what goes on in LA or this possibly him speaking from experience? Has he had such a traumatic experience that made him want to leave acting behind and go into something that will protect future actors from the same fate?

3. “I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his."

A) the fuck he is?! Not on my watch

B) I feel like this Becca is someone his family set him up with, to calm him down maybe? I don't feel like he's attached

C) Or he does like her but not enough and he'll realise that when he realises reader is amazing

D) Something defo happened for him to want a calm life..

4. "But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

A) idk if it was because it was Aegon's bite mark but that was one of the most sexiest things you've written.

B) I bet Aegon watched that and gulped, thinking "oh shit."

C) if when they have sex or whatnot and this is not mentioned or reenacted, I'll riot

5. “Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you."

A) something has happened for him to disappear like that...

B) could be an illness like people are saying but I feel like it was something traumatic and his family told him not to talk about it as it would affect their image. So he chose to stay close but not in the spotlight

C) Feels a lot like the Olsen sisters, like we have Elizabeth but where did the twins go? Very much like Aegon??

D) I can't wait to see what his sister and brothers are doing in this industry lmao

E) I feel like they're in trouble somehow- celebrity vs celebrity

6. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

A) again something happened and he doesn't want it repeating

B) I copied this mainly because it was probably my favourite section due to how spot on you are? How well you wrote it? Fake people playing real people, barbies and bratz games

7. "You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass."

A) like everyone said, you're going to kill him off, aren't you?

B) unless you've made it so obvious that he isn't. Maybe not physically but mentally, emotionally. You'll find a way around it

C) maybe she dies

D) is the way she described that food going to describe the way one of them ends up? Covered in blood?

8. Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

A) double whammy, sky and her are bright

B) we've found the reader's name, pack it up

C) and he goes into his office to get away from the sun of the sky and her? So he's defo gonna try and keep away from her romantically as his feelings would be too much and he'll be scared she'll find out what happened to him cuz he doesn't want to break her optimism

9. “Okay. I hope you get the star.”

A) I've got a star spot sticker on rn, so I've technically got it

B) the Hollywood star?? His or hers? Omg I'm banging my head on the wall, I feel like this is significant (or I need to go bed)

10. “Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

A) we've got the title, pack quicker guys

B) oh ho, oh ho. We knew it was a curse but why is it to him? WHAT HAS HAPPENED??

11. “Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

A) oh you really don't like Jace lmao

B) the orcas will be coming for u

Overall, sorry for an essay. I know I repeated a lot of the same stuff but I'm sure something happend. I keep thinking of the Brandon Fraser case (bless him) but idk if you'd go that dark.

Either way, great story so far and I can't wait to delve into the dark underbelly of sunny LA

A Curse [Chapter 1: Chinatown]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), a lil age gap, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, big doomed situationship energy, erotic apple eating, Minnesota.

Word count: 5.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

He takes your hand without looking at you. He had been lounging with his green Nike Killshots up on the desk when Brandon, the receptionist, brought you in. He had also been playing a translucent orange Nintendo 64; now the game is paused and Mario is frozen on the screen of the 24-inch television, deep underwater and in pursuit of a gold star affixed to the tail of a giant eel.

“Nice to meet you,” Aegon says without much interest. You’re smiling, not that he notices. Then he nods at the receptionist. “Thanks, Brando.”

“Oh, no problem at all!” Brandon trills buoyantly, pulling out your chair for you as Aegon flops back into his own. “Can I bring anything? Iced coffee, matcha latte, Perrier?”

“I’m good,” Aegon says, glancing at your resume where it rests on the desk amongst framed photographs, manilla folders, takeout menus, gum wrappers rolled into tiny balls. You have the impression he hasn’t read it. Nonetheless, you are still smiling.

“How about you, hon?” Brandon asks you.

You don’t want to make him run to a Starbucks or anything. “Um…I’ll take a Perrier, please. That’s easy for you, right? You can just grab it out of the minifridge in the lobby?”

“You betcha!” Brandon darts out of the office and returns in ten seconds. In the elapsed time, Aegon has not looked at you once. Instead, he slouches in his chair and thumps his Nikes onto the desk, sighs, and gazes longingly at the television screen. You sit up straight with your hands folded in your lap. You have dressed in business casual attire for the occasion: a modest yellow sundress and TOMS wedges, warm understated eyeshadow, sparkly champagne pink Dreamer by Anastasia Beverly Hills, matte brown Hope by Huda Beauty. Brandon returns and hands you a green glass bottle of Perrier, ice cold and slippery with condensation, and closes the door behind him as he leaves.

“Look, I’ll be honest,” Aegon tells you, picking up your resume and scanning it blandly. “I don’t want to waste your time, but I’m really not in the market for new clients. Brando made this appointment before I told him that, and then he really didn’t want to cancel it. He liked your resume or something. So I’ll hear you out but don’t expect much.”

“Oh. Well…I really appreciate you taking the time to see me anyway!”

He gives you a swift sideways look as if suspicious of your enthusiasm. It’s not that complicated; you haven’t had an audition in weeks, and none of the other six agents you’ve seen have signed you. Aegon Targaryen’s drab little office in one half of a duplex in Elysian Park is a relative paradise. His blonde hair is gelled back from his face. He wears dark jeans, a teal t-shirt, and a wrinkled tan sport coat jacket thrown carelessly overtop. You’ve Googled him; he’s thirty-five, so a decade older than you. “Where are you from?”

That’s on your resume he hasn’t read. “Minnesota.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up. “No wonder you left. City or country?”

“A town called Apple Valley, it’s about a half hour outside of Minneapolis.”

“So you’re not a nepo baby.”

“A what?”

“Your parents aren’t connected to the entertainment industry in any way.”

“Oh right, no, they definitely aren’t. My dad’s a cardiologist. My mom worked as a waitress while he was in med school, and now she just has a lot of Akitas.”

Aegon flips over your resume and skims the back. “Are they supportive of you being out here?”

“Um…” You chuckle uneasily. “Not really. My older sister’s a pharmacist and my brother’s in law school, so I am definitely the underachieving child. But they’re not too mean about it. They’re just waiting for me to get it out of my system.”

“Law school where?”

“Michigan.”

“State or University?”

“University.”

“So you’re really smart,” Aegon says. He has begun to fold your resume into a paper airplane. “Intelligence is genetic. If your siblings are book smart, you probably are too.”

You smile and shrug, not knowing what to say. “I guess so.”

“Do you have a boyfriend back in Minnesota who’s calling you every other day trying to convince you to come home and marry him and have two kids and a Goldendoodle?”

You laugh. “No, no boyfriend. I mean, I have an ex-boyfriend there. I see him sometimes when I fly home to visit. But he’s not standing in the way of anything.”

Aegon nods like you’ve passed a test. “Do your parents send you money?”

“Yeah, but not a lot. They don’t want to encourage me. I work at a Cold Stone Creamery in Harbor Gateway, it’s just a few blocks away from my apartment. I have a roommate, she’s trying to be an actress too.”

“Ice cream,” he muses. He launches your paper airplane resume; it sails across the room, hits the mint green wall, nosedives to the floor. “Do you like working there?”

“It’s fine. It’s a paycheck. Back in the spring I was doing after-school programs for Mad Science, driving all over Watts and Southeast teaching children about bugs and magnets and outer space, so that was really cool.”

Aegon looks up at you, brow furrowed. It’s the first time you’ve had his full attention. “You were doing after-school programs in Watts?”

“Yeah, it was awesome. The kids were so fun. But I needed something that was more flexible so I could be free during the middle of the day for auditions and stuff.”

He blinks at you a few times. “Why do you want to be an actress?”

You stall, twisting open your Perrier and taking a gulp. “That’s a hard question.”

“It’s literally the most obvious question. If you can’t answer it, I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“Well, I never wanted to be an actress,” you say. “I just kind of…am one. I can’t read a book without my expressions and my posture changing to match what’s going on in the story. I can’t watch a movie without feeling like I’m in that world with the characters, or, or, or imagining how I would have delivered the lines differently. And then even when I’m doing something totally unrelated…math homework, walking my mom’s Akitas, making ice cream…I envision where the cameras would be if I was being filmed, which way I would tilt my face to catch the light. It’s something I think about all the time and I can’t turn it off. So how am I supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer and spend my entire life trying to avoid every thought that occurs to me organically? It sounds like torture.”

Aegon stares at you, a long golden silence as daylight pours in through the windows facing the east. Then he drops his green Nikes to the floor and straightens up in his chair, studying you. He points to the windows. “Look that way.”

You do, closing your eyes when the glare is too bright.

“Now the other side of the room.”

You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean.

“Stand up.”

You set your bottle of Perrier on his cluttered desk and obey, but with some reluctance. “Please don’t ask me to bend over.”

Aegon snorts a laugh. “That’s not what I’m doing. I want you to go to the door and then walk back to me like you’re angry.”

“I have a bunch of acting reels on YouTube—”

“I don’t want to see your acting reels. I want to see you in front of me right now.”

“Okay,” you agree. You go to the closed door, take a moment to shake off the real world, and then walk to his desk, your footsteps heavy and your eyes hard. Aegon’s dark blue gaze follows you and does not waver.

“Look at me like you’re sad.”

You imagine he’s said something horrible to you, a husband who’s broken a vow, a doctor with a grim prognosis.

“Good!” Aegon says, animated now. “You get it. It’s in the eyebrows, not the mouth.” He gestures to your chair. “Now sit down like you don’t want to be here.”

You move sluggishly, like you hope someone will interrupt you; your eyes float boredly around the room. Then you plop heavily into the chair and stare at Aegon, a little vacuously inane, a little resentful like a petulant teenager. You pretend to chew gum you don’t have.

Aegon smiles, amused. “If I’d asked you to bend over, would you have done it?”

“I’d like to say no, but I’m pretty desperate.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

You sip your Perrier. “Well, I might get a boob job.”

“Don’t get a boob job.”

“Why not? Basically everybody here’s had one. I think Taylor Swift got two.”

“You don’t need a boob job,” Aegon says impatiently.

“I’m not sure you have all the knowledge to make an informed decision about that.”

“I am so sick of this bullshit,” he mutters, pushing the takeout menus and manilla folders around on his desk but leaving it no tidier. “People cutting up their perfectly normal bodies…people stuffing themselves full of poison…so afraid to look human they end up like motherfucking Bratz dolls.” He sighs and peers up at you again. “Just so you know, I’m getting out of L.A. I’m only going to be here until September. So by then you’ll have to find someone else. But I can get you started, I guess.”

You are beaming. “You’ll be my agent?”

“Yeah, but like I said—”

You squeal and leap to your feet, taking his left hand with both of yours and shaking it vigorously, Aegon gaping up at you. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I am going to be the best client you’ve ever had, I will never ever complain, I will do anything you say, I will audition with snakes and tarantulas, I will swim with sharks.”

Aegon grins, perhaps despite himself. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Why are you leaving in September?”

“I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his.

“That’s exciting!” You love weddings. “And you two look so happy together!”

“Yeah, Becca’s pretty great.” Aegon takes a stick of Juicy Fruit out of a pack on his desk, shoves it into his mouth, distractedly rolls the white and red wrapper into a ball. “She’s a real caretaker type. Always trying to do my laundry and pack me lunches and bake pies and whatever.”

“And that’s something you look for in a woman?” you tease lightheartedly. Aegon gives you a lightning-quick annoyed glance, and your smile abruptly dies. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t fire me.”

He chuckles and stands up from his desk, his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. Mario is still underwater, forgotten on the frozen television screen. “Let’s go grab some lunch.”

“Right now?” You slide your phone out of your purse—crossbody, wildflowers, Patricia Nash but found at T.J.Maxx—to check the time. “It’s like 10:30 a.m.”

“They’ll be open by the time we walk to Chinatown.”

“Okay!” Lunch can only be a good thing. Still clutching your Perrier, you trot after Aegon into the small lobby, scuffed wood floor and cheap IKEA couches. Behind the reception desk, Brandon is making notes in a planner using one of those pens with a fake flower on top. He looks up at you and Aegon as you pass by.

“Brando, I’m taking an early lunch,” Aegon tells him.

Brandon is hopeful. “Are you signing her?”

“Yeah, but it’s just until—”

“Oh for cute!” Brandon cries out, and Aegon is stupefied. But you know exactly what Brandon means. He must be from Minnesota too. So that’s why he liked my resume. Los Angeles is kind of like the military; once you’re swimming in this multinational fishbowl, everyone from your home state is a friend.

“What part?” you ask, smiling.

“Duluth.”

“Bet the Pacific Ocean beats Lake Superior any day.”

“Have you been to Venice Beach yet?”

“Oh yeah. Heaven on earth.”

“Good luck with everything,” Brandon says, and then he winks. “I hope you get to stay.”

Stay in L.A. Stay here chasing the dream. Me too. Then you follow Aegon through the front door and down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, out into breezy mid-70s air and sunlight peeking from behind pure white tufts of cumulus clouds. You can hear music and dogs barking. The street is lined with quaint midcentury houses with metal fences and humming air conditioning units in the windows; any businessowners here are hanging their own shingle, beauticians and pet groomers and bakers. On the horizon, you can see the silvery skyscrapers of Downtown.

“So about that resume I clearly didn’t read,” Aegon says as he walks with his hands in his pockets. “Have you done any meaningful acting work since you’ve been out here?”

Why lie? “No.”

He gives you a shellshocked look like this is the worst case scenario. “Well…I appreciate your honesty. So you’ll take anything.”

“Absolutely anything. I mean…” You take an anxious swig of your Perrier. “I’d really rather not be naked.”

He’s laughing again. You’re not sure if he thinks you’re funny or ridiculous. “I’m not going to pitch you for roles that require nudity.”

You are relieved. “Okay. Cool.”

“Where did you act before?”

“After college I did some short films for grad students…they’re all pretty terrible, I’ll admit it, but I didn’t write them…and I was in a bunch of shows at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. And I worked in the gift shop.”

“Guthrie?” Aegon says. “Like Woody Guthrie?”

“No, common mistake. A completely different Guthrie. Some English lord who was a director.”

“Which shows were you in?”

You describe your roles, all supporting, none leading: Romeo and Juliet, Othello, A Streetcar Named Desire, Pride and Prejudice, Julius Caesar, Anastasia, Frankenstein, August: Osage County, Richard III, Dracula. Aegon listens but he watches you too, the way you stride in your TOMS wedges over the cracked and uneven sidewalk, the way you use your hands too much when you talk, a habit you’re trying to break. His eyes on you—that deep and tumultuous blue—do not feel like a leer, and you think you’ve acquired enough experience in your past three months in Los Angeles to know the difference. Aegon’s gaze is no longer disinterested but methodical, practiced, ever-seeking, notes transcribed not in ink but electrical impulses and ineffable cyclones of neurotransmitters.

“Dracula,” Aegon jokes. “Vampire experience, huh? Maybe we could get you in the Twilight reboot.”

“Is that really happening?”

“It is, but it’s going to be animated. So it’s only voice acting. And I think we can aim higher than that.” He pauses at an intersection and looks lost for a few seconds, then remembers the way and bears to the right. This street is busier, hectic with shops and pedestrians, teenagers on skateboards, vendors advertising their fruit smoothies and boba teas. Red banners printed with twisted dragons and Chinatown 2025 hang from the streetlights. Towering palm trees cast shadows in the shape of windblown leaves. “Do you get along with your roommate?”

This is a random question. You finish your Perrier and discard the glass bottle in a trashcan. “Yeah, she’s really nice, we’re friends. Why?”

“Good. Housing instability is a huge source of stress for young actors, just wanted to make sure you weren’t in danger of ending up sleeping under a bridge.”

“I might be if her boyfriend ever gets a job and can pay half of the rent.”

“Well if it happens, let me know. I can help get you set up somewhere.” Aegon yanks his phone out of his jeans pocket to check the time. “We’ve got a few more minutes to kill,” he says, and ducks into a market strewn with crates of produce: bitter melon, bok choy, pears, pomelos, dragon fruit, peaches, plums, durian, sweet potatoes, kumquats, lychees. You follow after Aegon as he weaves through narrow, crowded aisles, inspecting the wares and waving to shopkeepers that he recognizes. He asks you as he points to a dozen cardboard boxes overflowing with apples: “Does this make you homesick for Appletown?”

“Apple Valley,” you correct him, laughing. “And not quite. I’d rather have Venice Beach.”

“What’s the state apple of Minnesota?”

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s find out.” He uses his phone to Google it. “Honeycrisp.”

“Oh neat! Those are pretty good.”

“Are they?” He searches until amongst the Granny Smiths and Fujis and Golden Delicious apples he finds a box labelled Honeycrisp. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried one.”

“Now’s your chance.”

Aegon picks up a large, glossy apple, pinkish-red and striped with yellow, and takes a massive bite. Juice dribbles down his mouth and chin; he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “I’m going to pay for it,” he assures you when you look startled. He chews, deliberating. “This apple sucks. This is a flop apple.”

“You are blinded by your anti-Minnesota prejudice.”

“It’s boring.”

“How can an apple be boring?”

“It’s like…too sweet. Not tart enough. Not as good as a Braeburn or a Pink Lady. Here.” Aegon tosses the Honeycrisp apple and you catch it. Then, when you stare at the sizeable bitemark he’s left in the fruit: “Wait, I mean, you don’t have to eat that part, obviously. Try the other side—”

But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

Aegon watches you for a while before he speaks. In the meantime, you finish eating the apple with quick chomps. “Are you medicated?” he says.

“What? No, why?”

“You just seem…I don’t know. Bizarrely happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m in Los Angeles, I’m living the dream, I have a brand new agent. My life is amazing.”

“Okay,” Aegon says uncertainly; but he’s smiling. When you pitch the apple core back to him, he catches it. Then he grabs a plastic bag off a hook and drops one fresh Honeycrisp apple inside. “We’ll let Brando be the tiebreaker.” He shows two fingers to a shopkeeper and pays in cash. You steal a glimpse of your phone; it’s just after 11:00 a.m.

Down the street from the market is a set of steps leading into what appears to be a basement. Instead, when Aegon opens the red door, on the other side is a restaurant already filling up with patrons. The tables are round and covered with crimson tablecloths; at each seat is one of those paper Chinese zodiac calendars with all twelve animals and their descriptions.

“Good morning Mr. Aegon!” a tall middle-aged waitress says warmly and ushers you both to a table by a large fish tank with opalescent pebbles lining the bottom. From the other side of the glass, colossal black-and-orange oscars gawp menacingly. The waitress passes you a menu.

“No,” Aegon says, snatching the menu out of your hands before you can open it. “Order what you’d normally get.”

Obediently, you turn to the waitress. “Do you have moo goo gai pan?”

She nods. “White rice or fried rice?”

“White rice, please.”

“Mr. Aegon?” the waitress says.

“Boneless spare ribs with fried rice. And a pot of tea, and two wanton soups. Thanks, Lanying.”

She hurries away to tend to other customers. You ask Aegon playfully: “Did I make the right choice?”

“You did. Naturally low-calorie but high in vitamins and protein. If you’d ordered the sesame chicken and only taken two bites I’d know that you probably have an eating disorder. But now I’m optimistic.”

“And you got the most unhealthy thing on the menu. What does that mean?”

“Life is short. I try to keep it delicious.” He taps the side of the fish tank; one of the oscars attempts to maul him through the glass. “Do you exercise?”

“Not by choice. I force myself to walk to and from work, and that’s the best I can do.”

Aegon seems alarmed. “I don’t think you should be wandering all over Harbor Gateway. Especially not at night.”

“There are always other people around.”

“Yeah, and some of them might mug you.” The waitress arrives with a pot of tea and two small, handleless cups. Aegon fills both with tea, slides one to you, and reaches for the little plastic container of sweeteners on the table. “Splenda?” Aegon guesses correctly and then flings several yellow packets across the table to you.

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Aegon says. The waitress returns with two bowls of wanton soup and makes conversation with Aegon briefly. She inquires about his health, his parents, his business. You wait until she leaves to ask your question.

“Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you.

Aegon slurps broth from his spoon, stalling. He’s caught off-guard; you can tell by the way deep troubled grooves appear in his brow. That’s part of being a good actor. You have to learn how to read people until you can feel their emotions as if they are your own, until you can mimic them so convincingly your own pulse quickens or your stomach drops. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

“And you’re not even that good of an agent.”

He laughs and shakes his head, just watching you, just trying to figure you out. He looks down at his Chinese zodiac calendar. “What are you?”

“I’m a dragon.”

Aegon reads aloud: “You are eccentric and your life complex. You have a very passionate nature and abundant health. I could see that. Kinda sounds like you.”

“Which animal is yours, the horse?”

“Yeah, 1990.”

You study his description. “Popular and attractive to the opposite sex. You are often ostentatious and impatient. You need people. I don’t think you’re very ostentatious.”

“But no qualms with the other parts?”

“No, the rest seems accurate.”

He stares at you, those overcast blue eyes curious, searching, maybe a little puzzled. When the waitress brings out the entrees, Aegon spears a piece of his boneless spare ribs with his clean fork and offers it to you. “Here, you want to try this?”

You really shouldn’t, but you make an exception. You take his fork and eat: saccharine blood red sauce, glistening gelatinous fat. It’s one of the most delicious bites of food you’ve ever tasted…and then it’s gone. You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass.

You walk back through Chinatown together, Aegon swinging around his plastic bag with his Honeycrisp apple for Brandon, you listening as he tells you what each shop is known for and points out a temple dedicated to the goddess of the ocean. Now the sky is clear and the sun is high, and hot, and blinding when you aren’t under the shade of awnings or palm trees.

You say cheerfully once you have returned in Elysian Park and you can see Aegon’s office, a blue neon sign that reads Targ Talent Agency pulsing in the window: “So do you have any fun plans for Father’s Day?”

“Nope. My dad’s dead.”

“Oh my God.” You’re so mortified you almost trip over your own feet, your TOMS wedges stumbling over the pavement. Aegon instinctively reaches out to steady you, and you grasp his hand gratefully. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It happened when I was in college so I’m used to it.”

“He must have been young.” Forties? Fifties?

“Yeah,” Aegon says shortly, letting go of you. “Are you doing anything special?”

“My parents are paying to fly me back to Minnesota. But I won’t be gone long, I promise. It’s just a few days.”

Aegon smirks roguishly. “Going to make time to see that ex-boyfriend while you’re there?”

You smile, a little bashful, a little mischievous. “I might.”

He chuckles. “Enjoy. Don’t get pregnant and ruin all your hopes and dreams.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I can’t take the pill because it made me suicidally depressed but we use condoms.”

Aegon is bewildered, his jaw hanging open. “You don’t overshare like this in auditions, do you?”

“No, sorry, I thought you were asking me a question.”

“It wasn’t a question, it was a comment.”

“Oh. I thought it was a question.”

He shakes his head and stops at the 2003 Honda Accord—painted in a shade called Desert Mist Metallic—parked curbside, a gift from your parents when you went away to college only to return in disgrace with a Theater Arts degree that they lie to their friends about. From one of the nearby houses, you can hear Take It Easy by The Eagles drifting out into the sun-drenched street. “Is this your ride?”

“Yup! This is me.”

“Well I’m going to make some calls and see what I can get you, and I’ll let you know either way in a few days how it’s going. Brandon has your phone number and headshots…and I can find your acting reels on YouTube if I need them…yeah, I think that’s everything. Okay?”

“Okay. I hope you get the star.”

Again, you have confused him. “What?��

“In the Mario game. The one on the eel’s tail.”

Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

“Aegon?” you call after him. At the top of the concrete steps, he pauses and turns around. Here in the shadowless midday light, you are overwhelmed with gratitude. It’s difficult to speak without your voice breaking. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

He opens the door and disappears inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Guess who has an agent?!” you announce ecstatically as you burst into the apartment. Baela and Jace are in the living room on the velvet orange couch, eating sushi and watching True Blood on the 40-inch flatscreen television that Baela’s parents bought for her.

“Congratulations!” Baela says from the couch. “Finally! I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

“Is he nice?” Baela asks, meaning your new agent.

“I think so,” you say thoughtfully. You aren’t sure that nice is the right word. “He’s kind of weird and grumpy. But I really like him.”

“Is he old?”

“Not at all. Aegon’s thirty-five.”

“Ew,” Baela says. “Old.”

“I really like him,” you say again, smiling to yourself without realizing you’re doing it.

Baela groans. “Please don’t be one of those girls who fucks their agent.”

“No, it’s not like that. He’s engaged to someone super gorgeous. They’re getting married in September.”

“Huh,” Baela replies, losing interest now. Her eyes have drifted back to the tv. She hasn’t landed a role as a film lead or a series regular yet, but she’s been working steadily since she got to L.A. and her star is ever-rising. Tomorrow she is auditioning for Yorgos Lanthimos’s new movie. She’s not allowed to tell you anything about the script. It’s a secret; it’s an honor.

You go to the kitchen for a drink and stop when your gaze catches on the calendar affixed to the stainless steel refrigerator with plastic magnets shaped like pineapples. Friday, June 20th is circled with red ink; in the box below, you have scrawled the necessary details.

Baela twists around on the couch and sees you. Her voice is gentle; she knows you’re nervous. “When’s your appointment?”

“Next week.”

“You’re really getting sliced up?” Jace says.

You smirk at him, less than appreciative. “It’s just a consultation. But yeah, probably.”

“You scared?” Jace asks, gnawing on a pod of edamame.

Obviously. You sigh. “I think it has to happen if I want to land roles.”

“I haven’t gotten any plastic surgery yet,” Baela says, not meaning to sound smug.

You murmur as you ponder the time and address written in red on the calendar: “Well nobody is saying you need to.” You’ve had no less than ten people suggest implants outright, and far more have implied it. Aegon is the only person you can think of who dismissed the idea summarily…and that includes your parents. Your father has been emailing you doctor recommendations. He must think it’s a good investment for your post-California-detour life.

“It will give you more confidence,” Baela says as she turns back to the tv. “A little extra something to take you to the next level.”

You stare at her forlornly from the kitchen. You are suddenly very aware that you miss being outside: the sun, the heat, the swaying palm trees, the radiant kinetic potential. “That’s part of the problem? My confidence?”

She shrugs, using her chopsticks to dunk a piece of her tuna roll in a small plastic container of spicy mayo. She seems oblivious to how deflated you are. “It’s just so hard to stand out here, you know? The phrase ‘California dime’ exists for a reason.”

Jace glances at you over the back of the couch. “I think you look fine.”

“Thanks, Jace.”

“I think you’re easily a California nickel.”

“That’s super sweet, Jace.”

Now Baela is telling him to shut up and they’re bickering back and forth, but you aren’t listening. You take your phone out of your purse and open Instagram. You search for Aegon and find his account; his username is superstargaryen. You follow him. Within a minute, just long enough for you to click through one of his highlight reels—mostly pictures of the beach and trips to In-N-Out Burger—he follows you back. Then you receive a DM.

Aegon has typed: Brando says the apple is good

You giggle to yourself as you tap out a reply. Told you :)

Aegon responds: Or!!! All Minnesotans have no taste

And then he adds a few seconds later: I had to Google that word…Minnesotans…sounds fake

You reply: Please use Google to get me a job instead

He starts typing something, then stops and reacts with a laughing emoji instead. You pull a can of Diet Coke out of the fridge, wondering what he was going to say before he changed his mind.

Late that night, after a nine-hour shift at Cold Stone Creamery, you shower and crawl exhausted into bed wearing an oversized blue L.A. Dodgers t-shirt that you’re swimming in. You turn on your laptop and open YouTube, search for Aegon’s acting reels from ten years ago, fall asleep listening to his voice like the endless ethereal rush when you hold a seashell to your ear.

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demaparbat-hp · 2 days ago

Note

⭐

For better or worse, I'm rather obsessive over wording. I love to include little details and clues that tend to go over everyone's heads. Most of them are only there for my own devilish enjoyment!

Now, I'd like to talk about three specific moments from my Zuko-centric fic For the Spirits (read here!). Two of them are from chapter V, while the last one is a bit more recent, from chapter VIII.

Both lines include ridiculously subtle and obscure subtext that I'm not sure I'll get the chance to explore fully in the fic. So I'm using this excuse to talk about them!

Spoilers ahead!

Chapter V: There Was Sun

Read here.

He was left in silence, the thousands of eyes that lived in his bedroom standing watch over him. He laid down right there, ear pressed to the floor, his back to the door, and clutched his mother's anklet to his chest until the morning came.

Zuko was awoken by the ghost of a caress on his left cheek and the echo of a voice that told stories of dragons and spirits and love.

No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.

Ursa dies and becomes a ghost in this scene—it's not really ambiguous, is it? I always knew Ursa was going to die to protect Zuko in this AU. That scene of Zuko staying behind to spy on Azulon’s edict—instead of running away as he did in canon—was actually what got this whole AU started!

It's a matter of seemingly insignificant divergences that just pile up until the consequences are so massive they impact the rest of the story.

In For the Spirits, Zuko directly hears Azulon’s order to kill him, so he stays awake all night in fear. When Ursa comes to say goodbye, she's confronted with a fully awake child she tries to calm down. It slows her down. It gets her caught. It gets her killed. And Zuko listens as it happens.

The scene I quoted is Ursa's final goodbye, after her death... But there's something else. One tiny, absolutely inconsequential detail that doesn't impact the story itself but I can't help but obsess over anyway.

Did you notice?

Zuko was awoken by the ghost of a caress on his left cheek...

(Some spirits don't know.)

(Others know too much.)

Agni was a beautiful being forever in repentance of some forgotten sin. Forever submitted to the Fire.

Zuko insisted on being alone the first time his bandages were removed.

The mirror was old and cracked, but did its job well, much like everything else on the Wani. Zuko sighed, hands bracing the sink before him in something akin to despair. He breathed in once, twice, before opening his eyes and facing the monster in the mirror.

The first time Zuko saw his scar, he laughed.

It was fitting, he thought, to bear the mark of the flames burning the flesh of a God.

It's Lore Time!

It shouldn't come as a surprise that I'm a sucker for narrative foils. Having a character be Touched (blessed, cursed, all the same) by a godlike spirit is just about the best excuse possible to chuck in as many parallels as one can think of.

That being said, I'm curious. Did you catch it at first read?

The fact that, while Zuko bears a scar from fire, Agni's face is forever burning.

(The first pic isn't supposed to be Agni, but rather Nightmare Zuko from my Perfect Prince comic. You get the idea, though.)

There's something about the imagery of it all, as well as the metaphor expressed masterfully in Zuko himself. Fire is all about the dichotomy. It's about savagery and control. Energy and burn. Gentleness and all-consuming rage. Fire is life. Fire is destruction.

A beautiful face forever burning, forever scarred.

Two halves of the same whole. All things the same.

Chapter VIII: Make You Stay

Read here.

In chapter II, Ming confessed that she had been one of the Royal Guards assigned to the Agni Kai arena when Zuko was burned. She helped General Iroh get him out of that place and heal him, given that medical attention was prohibited by the Fire Lord. Ming has stayed by Zuko's side ever since, but the Agni Kai still haunts her.

“I was nineteen!” she yelled, slapping the table. “I was nineteen and all I could smell was burnt flesh! That fucking scent still comes back every time I see him. It broke me and it wasn't even me! I wasn't the one who��I wasn't—I was nineteen and I wasn't ready!

When Yoi tells her in chapter VIII that Zuko is planning to go on a suicide mission, she panics and the Agni Kai comes rushing back to her mind.

Something quite interesting happens, though. Not only here, but also later on, during her conversation with Zuko.

See if you can catch it.

Ming felt the cold like never before. It was pumping in her ears, freezing the sweat on her nape, masking the thunder of her chest, tearing at her flesh—at her soul.

Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.

She snapped back into focus and sprinted away from an oblivious Yoi.

(...)

She refused to cry in front of Zuko. Not for this. Not after…after…

You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.

Then so be it.

Zuko stared through her. She looked away.

Then so be it.

Haven't you noticed something a little...odd, about this AU? I mean, besides the spirit shenanigans, obviously. I'm talking about something that's missing. Something pivotal about Zuko's journey that just isn't there. The only word not yet written.

Avatar.

A larger threat, Zuko couldn't be allowed any chance to return to the Fire Nation. Not even a disgraceful mockery of an impossible mission. There's no chasing after the Avatar here. There's no looking for the last airbender (Zuko's previous visits to the Air Temples had a different motivation).

Zuko's banishment was a one-way ticket. And Ming just told us the reason why.

You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.

(With open eyes and the misdirection of Agni's burning touch over his shoulder, Zuko had no reason to cower. So he stood up. He faced his destiny with honor and resignation. This was a test, wasn't it? Agni's challenge for his child...)

Then so be it.

(That line wasn't Ozai's to deliver.)

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klaus-littlestwolf · 3 days ago

Note

Firstly can I just say how much I genuinely enjoy your stories! They are so amazing and I love getting to read them and look forward to when you post new ones.

I'm usually pretty shy with requests but I do have one for your recent Yandere Klaus ask you posted.

It's a MDLB relationship dynamic but reader is not the yandere, Klaus is. Reader is apart of the scooby gang or in general is associated in some way against Klaus. She however treats him with kindness, maybe gives him hugs after finding him upset about something or calming him down. He doesn't quite know that he's a little at first but he knows that she makes him feel safe so he begins to get possessive over her. He eventually finds out she's a MD and its like a switch goes off in his head, She can't see her friends or family because she needs to take care of him type of vibes. He starts acting smaller towards her and acting out any time she tries to leave (more in a hey I'll be gone for a few hours not a I'm trying to run away from you). She's able to calm him down and reprimand him for brattiness. Smutty stuff eventually ensues after some time in her role as his MD.

The rest can be up to you :)

P.S. I hope you're feeling better!! I know you were sick a few weeks ago and hope your recovery and new year have been good.

Discovering his Little Side -Klaus M.

I think it goes without saying that this is an Md/Lb fic. Klaus is Little and OC is his Mommy that he is very possessive of.

Warning: Md/Lb Relationship, Klaus is a Little, Yandere Behavior, Smut, Oral-Fem Receiving, Mentions of Punishment, Teasing/Masturbation

This is an Age Regression fic

Don’t Like=Don’t Read!

Also, Thank You for your concern and asking after me (from everyone). I got so many messages asking how I’ve been doing and hoping I feel better and I absolutely am, thank you all for thinking of me like that! I don’t have any friends in my real life, honestly I just have my mom and that’s it (as sad and pathetic as that sounds) so to have so many people hoping I feel better was beyond heart warming and I love and appreciate you all so much!💕💕🥰😘

He didn’t know at first what the feeling really was, all he knew was that she felt good.

After everything that had happened with Mikael she stayed, it surprised him but what surprised him more was her sitting before him on the front step and hugging him. Klaus had never really been one for hugging but this felt good, it felt wonderful actually and he didn’t want it to stop. He couldn’t tell you when he had leaned down and buried his face into her belly with his arms around her but he did, and he held on tight.

Klaus had held onto her for the rest of the night, or at least most of it as she was gone from his bed that she’d moved him to when he’d gotten a chill-which he’d found sweet, he was 1000 year old Hybrid and she was taking care of him…and he liked it.

He needed to control himself, Y/n wasn’t his, he had no right or reason to be feeling this possessive energy but he does and now it was unmistakable.

He got close to her when he could, buying her drinks at the bar and pulling her into conversation, even sending her flowers once which she thanked him for the next day with a soft kiss to his nose that made him feel smaller than he thinks he ever had in his undead life.

He couldn’t pinpoint what it was until seeing something that made his blood boil like never before.

As Klaus walked into the Grille he saw Y/n rolling her eyes as she wiped Damon’s mouth with a napkin which made the young vampire groan and insist she “stop ‘Mommying’ him”. All at once it hit Klaus what this was, what it had all been, how she had been making him feel so small and why he and especially his wolf had been so possessive.

He knew of age regression of course, it wasn’t a new thing, though it was more common now. Y/n is a MommyDom and she had comforted him when she saw how much he needed it like any good Mommy would. It was at that moment that it was decided, she would be his and he would never let her out of his sight again.

He stayed at the Grille with her that night, drinking and talking, allowing himself to relax with her in the booth they had taken over in the back, even allowing her to run her fingers through his hair sweetly. Klaus brought her back to his home that night and leant her a shirt to sleep in, snuggling up to her body with his head on her belly and her fingers, once again, in his hair.

Klaus awoke the next morning with a smile on his face. That is until he realized what was happening, Y/n was looking for her clothes which Klaus had put into his hamper so she wouldn’t find them right away.

‘Leaving so soon?’ He asked, her head popping up in surprise and Klaus had to admit that even he was a bit shocked by how small he sounded in that moment.

‘Yeah, I figured me leaving before your siblings saw me might be easier. Don’t need Kol and Rebekah asking a million questions and making you dagger them again.’ She teased, bending over to glance under the bed and giving Klaus an eyeful of her perfect ass in only her lace panties as his shirt rode up on her. He shoved the blankets over his crotch as his cock hardened unbelievably fast but he couldn’t help his whimper which seemed to catch her attention as she looked up at him questioningly. ‘Are you alright?’ He nodded quickly and she smiled softly, going back to looking for her clothes. Y/n knew you couldn’t force someone into their headspace, it could be dangerous and painful, especially for someone like Klaus who is a sweet little boy but doesn’t seem to even know it at all.

‘Don’t leave?’ He spoke, not wanting it to sound pleading but it really did.

‘Okay, and then what? You and I hide out up here all day together? Don’t be silly, I’m sure you have things to do today and I promised Damon I would binge some horror movies with him since Elena ditched him for Stefan again.’

At the meer mention of Damon’s name a rage unlike normal built in his belly and he growled. ‘Stay!’ He demanded, not realizing how incredibly childish he sounded but making Y/n giggle which just made him more mad.

‘Klaus. Calm down. We can hang out again if you want-‘

‘Mommy Stays!’ He snapped and her head popped up over the footboard where she had been searching for her clothes, eyes wide in shock.

‘W-What did you just say?’ She asked cautiously, not wanting someone as dangerous and volatile as Klaus to freak out if he felt cornered or teased.

His face was bright red as his eyes widened but Klaus knew it was now or never and he didn’t want to lose her, especially not to Damon and his whiney ass. ‘I-I said…M-Mommy stays…please? Stay with me Mommy?’ His face had softened and he looked too precious for Y/n to say “No” even if she wanted to which she didn’t.

‘Is that what you really want? You want me to be your Mommy? This isn’t a game Niklaus, and I will not be played with like a pawn-‘ he shook his head rapidly, crawling across the bed to grab the shirt she wore and pull her back in and against his chest where he nuzzled her hair.

‘No…only fun games with my Mommy…snuggle me-Please?’ He begged and she took his cheeks between her hands, pecking his lips softly.

‘Of course baby boy, my boy gets all the snuggles he wants. Always.’ Y/n pulled him with her to lay down on the bed, pressing his head to lay on her breasts as she ran her fingers through his blond locks. The Hybrid allowed himself to relax against her and close his eyes, feeling safe in someone’s arms for what felt like the first time in his existence.

That was the beginning of their relationship.

Y/n was his Mommy and to her surprise, he was never embarrassed to call her that, not correcting himself in front of his siblings in any way. None of them said anything (probably not wanting to get daggered if they upset or offended him), Elijah even calling her whenever Klaus’ anger took hold of him once again to get her to gain control of the situation and saving both Rebekah and Kol more than once.

Klaus quickly learned that his Mommy would not tolerate his attitude and he calmed himself around her as often as he could to keep from getting punished again.

He hated punishments.

Y/n never once struck him, never smacking or spanking him in any way as she knew how badly her baby boy had been abused in his human life. She refused to make him feel like he was that scared child again, though she did insist on punishments that didn’t cause him physical pain but instead pure frustration. She started off giving him punishments where he had to stand in a corner and stare at the wall for 20 minutes. However as their relationship became more serious and they began exploring sexual intimacy (which she did not allow until almost 2 weeks after he first asked her to stay with him as she insisted he become completely comfortable in his Little headspace first) she would instead force him to watch her touch herself and refuse to let him help or touch himself in any way. Klaus hated this punishment more than any other, loving to see his Mommy in his bed completely bare but loathing not being able to touch her or make her feel good.

Klaus had always been greedy when it came to sex, not that he didn’t know how to make a women feel good but in 1000 years of one night stands (and only 2 real relationships) he didn’t usually care about the pleasure of women that were going to be his meal later that evening. With his Mommy though, it was completely different.

He loved making his Mommy feel good. He would eat her pussy for hours if she would let him, fuck her all night and never get tired of seeing the look on her face as she came apart for him. Nothing made Klaus happier than feeling and seeing his Mommy cum on his cock before telling him what a “good boy” he is, it was his favorite thing in the world to know that she was pleased with him, that he had made her feel good where all other men had failed.

The knowledge that the 2 other men his Mommy had been in a relationship with both had no clue how to make her feel good brought him immense joy. Though it also let him know that she had been deprived of pleasure for so many years and now he needed to make up for lost time. It was a belief he held that she told him “wasn’t necessary” but he knew different, his Mommy deserved to be taken care of and given orgasms all day every day. He wished she would allow it of him but she didn’t, she insisted she take care of him first…which he loved (though he would never admit it). More than anything Klaus just wanted to be with his Mommy at all times, however, for whatever reason, she didn’t allow it of him and that more than anything was why he ended up being punished just like right now.

‘Can I come out now, Mommy?’ Klaus asked softly, keeping his voice light, wanting her to feel sorry and shorten his punishment.

‘Are you finished behaving like a brat?’ She asked and he nodded his head quickly, needing her to forgive him more than anything. ‘Alright, you can come out baby.’

Klaus was beside her not even a second later, nuzzling his face into her neck with his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. ‘Don’t leave me, Mommy? Please? I’m sorry I didn’t listen but-‘

‘Nikky! Hey, stop that. You broke a rule and you were punished, now that punishment is over which means you are forgiven. Do you understand? You get punished and then you are forgiven, Mommy doesn’t hold grudges against her baby. Alright?’ Klaus looked up from her chest and loved the sincerity that she held in her eyes. Her eyes were always so expressive that he could tell how she was feeling all the time. She truly meant it, his Mommy had never once held onto her anger, once he was punished it was over and he was truly forgiven.

‘Yes Mommy, but-‘

‘Baby, this is not a punishment. I made these plans with Damon months ago, it has nothing to do with you, I’ve been waiting to see this show for years.’ Klaus opened his mouth to speak but Y/n placed her hand over his mouth to keep him from speaking again. ‘I’m not upset with you, I’m not doing this to hurt you, Damon is my friend and as my friend he got us tickets to see tonight’s show. I will be home around midnight, I will text you-‘

‘No. Come back here after the play, I want my Mommy in my bed with me…I will wait for you.’ He swore and Y/n sighed, shaking her head.

‘No you will not little one. My baby boy will be in his bed asleep. However, if it means that much to you then I will have Damon drop me off here instead of home tonight. Does that make you feel better?’ It didn’t. Klaus has absolutely no intention of allowing her to go out with Damon tonight, but she doesn’t need to know that it is him that’s going to ensure his Mommy gets stood up tonight. He doesn’t like the idea of his Mommy being stood up in any capacity, however he will be right here to comfort her and so he will keep her from being too upset.

‘Yes Mommy…I just don’t like you going out with an asshole like Damon. I don’t want him to hurt you-‘

‘He’s not going to hurt me. We’ve been friends since long before you and I met. You had better watch your language as well, I don’t want to have to punish you twice in one night.’ She teased, though he could also see her serious undertone.

‘Yes Mommy, I’m sorry. I’ll wait on the porch with you.’ He quickly insisted, jumping up from the bed and moving to pull his boots on before she could argue.

Klaus helped her get her jacket on and handed her the bag he knew she was taking before walking out to the porch with her. He made a show of bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet which made Y/n giggle. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing…just gotta pee…’ he mumbled making her laugh even more.

‘Go to the bathroom, silly boy. You don’t need to wait with me-‘

‘I’ll be right back!’ He insisted, kissing her cheek and running inside. He quickly ran out the back door and made his way to the boarding house as quickly as possible where he found Damon pulling on his jacket.

‘What the hell are you doing here? Isn’t it bad enough that I have to pick her up from your house?’ Damon complained but Klaus just rolled his eyes before pinning Damon to the wall and locking their eyes to compel him.

‘You will compel yourself another date when you get to the play, you want nothing to do with Y/n anymore now that she is with me. You will not answer your phone for her tonight and you’ll block her number after she calls you but you will post a picture of you at the show with your date. In the future, when she asks you what’s going on and why you stood her up you’ll tell her that she chose to be with me and you won’t be friends with Klaus’ girlfriend. You will not remember any of this, or me compelling you.’ Klaus could see Damon’s eyes dilate and he knew the compulsion had worked as he looked dazed before walking to his car.

Klaus made his way home quickly and went back to the porch where he found Y/n sitting on the swing, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around her as he sat down. ‘Thank you sweet boy. You’re always so thoughtful.’ She smiled making him blush.

‘Don’t want my Mommy getting sick.’ He told her as he moved to lay with his head on her lap, knowing she would play with his hair which he always loved. ‘What time is the play?’ He mumbled in question after about 20 minutes.

‘It starts in 10 minutes. He should have been here 15 minutes ago…it’s not like Damon to be late.’ She said as she thought deeply.

‘Maybe he forgot it was tonight. Try calling him.’ He prompted, rolling over to lay with his face in her tummy. ‘Not that I mind him being late, I’m quite comfortable here.’ He hummed, smiling up at her and making her snort, brushing her fingers through his hair while her other hand called Damon.

‘It’s not like him not to answer…I’ll try Stefan.’ She said, calling his brother instead and Klaus heard him answer on the second ring. ‘Hey Stefan, is Damon there? He’s not answering his phone and he’s really late.’

‘Oh, he left already…like 20 minutes ago. Sorry…try calling him again.’ Stefan responded and Klaus watched her face fall.

‘Yeah…yeah, I’ll try that. Thanks.’ She mumbled, hanging up. ‘Did he stand me up?’ She asked, more to herself than to him Klaus assumed but he answered anyway.

‘If he did then he’s the biggest idiot I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something. I’ve been alive a long time, I’ve met a lot of idiots.’ He teased and got a little giggle through her tears while she called his number again.

‘He…he blocked my number…asshole!’ She cursed, throwing her phone angrily and they both watched it smash into a hundred pieces against the wall.

‘Would you like me to take you? I can compel us in.’ She shook her head promptly, sighing heavily.

‘Thank you baby but no, I think I’m just going to go home-‘

‘No. You are not going to be alone right now, please stay? Let your baby make you feel all better…’ Klaus didn’t wait for an answer before swinging her up into his arms and carrying her upstairs to his bed. ‘Damon is the one who fucked up. He could’ve spent the entire night staring at you in this dress. God, you’re beautiful!’ He flirted making Y/n blush heavily as he peeled the dress from her body followed by her bra and panties. ‘I lucked out that he’s such an idiot…’ Klaus smirked as he kissed his lips down her body, spreading her legs apart and lifting her thighs to his shoulders before burying his face into her pussy, his tongue fucking into her hole rapidly. He licked up her slit and had just started sucking on her clit when her hips rose up and jumped against his mouth.

‘Oh God! Such a sweet boy you are baby…oh fuck!’

‘Want you to use me.’ He mumbled as he leaned his head against her thigh. ‘Want my Mommy to use my body to feel good!’ He insisted.

‘You don’t need to do that baby, Mommy doesn’t want to ruin your safe space-‘

‘Please Mommy? Please? Use me like your little play thing!’ Klaus pleaded, Y/n sitting up and taking his face into her hands to look at him.

‘Are you sure that’s what you want, my love?’ He nodded quickly, pulling his shirt off over his head. ‘What’s your safeword?’

‘Red.’ He stated, reaching down to unbuckle his pants when his hands were grabbed and he was quickly turned over underneath her.

‘My boy is so sweet to me, letting his Mommy use his body however I want.’ She straddled his waist, running her nails up his chest and making him whimper. ‘Such a beautiful body too…’ she teased, moving to pull his pants and boxer briefs down his legs and toss them away, revealing his thick, painfully hard cock. ‘Such a pretty little cock, all for me, hmm?’ His cock definitely wasn’t “little” but it made him feel smaller every time she said it and so she did despite how long and thick his werewolf cock actually was.

‘Y-Yes Mommy…all yours.’

‘All mine? That’s good, it’s so pretty I don’t think I would want to share it with anyone.’ She smirked, wrapping her hand around his thick cock and caressing him softly earning a soft moan. ‘Pretty all over, aren’t you baby?’ Y/n asked, moving up his body and pressing his cock to her wet pussy, earning her an uncontrollable yelp.

‘Such a loud little boy, aren’t you? My god, so noisy…it’s a good thing you have such a pretty mouth too…Mommy wants that mouth to make her feel good, yes?’ He nodded frantically, his cock twitching as he was already desperate to cum. He loved it when his Mommy took control of him. ‘I want to ride this fucking tongue!’ She demanded as she straddled his mouth, settling her pussy right on his lips. He kissed her pussy several times before licking up her slit and suckling on her clit softly. ‘You can do better than that baby boy!’ She hissed, grinding her pussy down against his mouth and he moaned, sticking his tongue into her hole and tasting her sweetness. His Mommy knew that licking her cunt was his favorite thing to do. He reached up, grabbing onto her hips as he continued to shove his tongue into her, his nose grinding against her clit and prompting her moan. ‘Fuck yes baby! Right there! Oh don’t stop…fuck…fuckfuckfuck!’ She cried out, humping her hips against his mouth as she grabbed ahold of his hair and pulled him even closer. ‘Good boy.’ She praised, lifting herself up only to have him pull her back down to continue licking over her dripping hole. ‘Fucking greedy boy too, aren’t you?’

‘Mmhmm!’ He hummed, holding her waist another moment before she pried his fingers off and moved back down his body. He watched as she slid her pussy down his belly to his throbbing cock which she quickly straddled, his hard cock resting against her slit.

‘Look at this pretty little cock, so needy, aren’t you?’ Klaus nodded quickly, his cock twitching as she trailed her finger down the side of it and precum dribbled from his tip onto his belly. ‘God, you are a needy little boy, aren’t you? You’re just dripping all over yourself you’re so needy!’

‘Y-Yes Mommy…please? Please Mommy, I need you?’ He pleaded and he could see how much she loved it as she moved back and leaned down to lick up the little mess he had made on himself. ‘Oh fuck!’ He whined, unable to control his cock as it dribbled more cum.

‘Such a messy boy…do you want Mommy to suck on your little cock?’ She asked softly but he shook his head quickly, needing more than that right now. ‘No? Well, what do you want then?’

‘P-Please?’ He whined, desperate and needy, knowing how little it was going to take for him to finish and so did she.

‘Please what?’

‘Pussy! Mommy’s Pussy Please?!’ He cried, hips jumping unintentionally.

‘You want Mommy’s pussy? Is that it? You want to put your little cock in your Mommy’s pussy?’ He nodded frantically, completely desperate in a way that no one but his Mommy could make him feel.

Y/n lifted her hips and took hold of his cock, pushing down on him and just as she settled herself against him, his cock as deep in her cunt as he could get, his eyes rolled back in his head and he shot his stream of cum as deep into her body as he could. ‘Ah! Fuck M-Mommy-‘

‘Shh, there’s my good boy. I know, Mommy got you all worked up, didn’t she? It’s okay. Such a good boy, filling Mommy up so good…’ As soon as he finished cumming Y/n lifted her hips and dropped back down on him.

‘Ah!’

‘Such a good boy for Mommy, still nice and hard for me.’ She praised, Klaus reaching out and taking hold of her hips as she continued to ride him. ‘Oh Fuck! So good for me, so fucking good!’ Y/n kept riding his cock until she felt her orgasm take over her body, clamping down on his hard cock and he growled, clenching his teeth as he came once again, filling her cunt up even more with his cum.

Y/n dropped down against Klaus’ chest and he pulled the blanket up over the both of them, nuzzling into his Mommy’s neck where he settled for the rest of the night.

And just like that Klaus’ Mommy was all his once again. He didn’t care how many people he would have to compel for the rest of their lives together, he would do it every single time because she was all his and no one would ever take his Mommy away from him.

Klaus M. Masterlist

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