#my mom knows how to apologize and she knows how to learn from her mistakes and that's why she's the ONLY parent in my life

[xoshepard]

fucking vindication man

my sister was just minding her business in the basement eating breakfast and my stepdad came down and asked "why do you have the light on" and she was like "so i can see?" and the thing about my stepdad is that he's incapable of softening his tone (and will pretend he doesnt understand that his tone is aggressive even though he can understand when YOUR tone is aggressive/rude) so even an innocuous question like that sounds like an attack, so my sister's response was also super subdued and irritated. this isn't the first time an exchange like that has happened but it was the first time that he kinda hesitated and was like "wait what did i just say that upset you?" and she started to speak like she was going to explain, then thought better of it and just said "it's nothing"

LIKE YEAH DUDE. WHEN YOU CREATE AN ENVIRONMENT WHERE PEOPLE FEEL LIKE THEY CONSTANTLY HAVE TO EXPLAIN THEMSELVES TO YOU AND AT THE SAME TIME THEY CAN'T BE COMFORTABLE BRINGING UP THINGS YOUVE DONE OR SAID TO UPSET THEM WITHOUT YOU JUST ARGUING WITH THEM TO JUSTIFY HOW THEYRE WRONG FOR BEING UPSET AND YOUVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG, THEN PEOPLE ARENT GONNA FUCKIN TALK TO YOU. ITS SO SIMPLE.

[starkwlkr]

I really love your work, and if my message comes out as awkward, I apologize

I just had a brain fart while reading that hot to go fic and just imagined the Jackman family at a Chappell Roan concert. I don't expect anything, just sending :). Keep doing the good work💖

hot to go part 2 | hugh jackman

an: CHAPPELL AND HUGH?? yes pls <3 thank you for the request!!

Gov ball 2024

Ever since you and Hugh got Olivia and her friends tickets to the governors ball music festival, all she did was play Chappell Roan’s music on repeat. Occasionally she would play Fleetwood Mac or Joan Jett, but Chappell Roan was always at the top of her playlist.

You and Hugh had days off and they happened to land on the same days as the gov ball so you decided that a music festival was the best way to spend time together.

Your boys were in Los Angeles with friends so Olivia gave the tickets to her two friends. You were grateful you didn’t have to fly to another city for the festival.

“Who are we seeing again?” Hugh asked, probably for the tenth time. He was more old school when it came to music, but he still liked to listen to Olivia’s music.

“Chappell Roan, dad. Remember the dance I was showing mom the other day? That’s her song that goes with the dance.” Olivia explained.

“I really like her song ‘red wine supernova’. I hope she plays it.” You looked down at your phone. Alex and Reese had texted you pictures of them and their friends at the beach. You missed them, but you were glad they were having fun.

“So how does the dance go?” Hugh asked.

It took a while but, after many attempts, Hugh finally got the hot to go dance figured out. Olivia felt so proud when he finally got it.

“See that, honey? This old man can still dance.” Hugh said with a smirk on his face.

“Not to brag but it took less tries for me to learn.”

After waiting in the crowd a for what seemed hours (Olivia’s words), Chappell Roan finally arrived on stage. Hugh, like the dad he is, took out his phone and recorded both Chappell Roan and his daughter having the time of her life with her friends, singing and jumping along to the music.

“When is she playing the hot to go?” Hugh asked you.

“It’s just called hot to go, there’s no the in front.” You clarified.

“Oh.”

Eventually hot to go did play. That’s when Hugh and you got told by Olivia that this was the song that they had to dance to. Some fans had spotted the celebrity couple dancing along and recorded them. It’s not everyday you see the wolverine dancing to Chappell Roan.

Hugh ended up having a few mistakes when it came to the dance but he didn’t care. He was having fun. At one point he was being recorded by you.

“You can take me hot to go!” Hugh sang along. “That’s all I know! I don’t know the words, but I’ll learn!”

In a matter of minutes, you and Hugh were on trending everywhere. You even got several messages from Alex and Reese about your viral videos. At the moment, the boys wished they were there either you, Hugh and Olivia.

@kellyxo1

[bweeeb]

TENNIS CLASSES

Art Donaldson x Reader

Notes: Age difference (Art is 29/31 and Y/n is 19), Dirty content, Smut, P in v and whatever...

Notes: This writing was very messy and I apologize for that.

Summary: When Tashi convinces Art to continue in the tennis business, he agrees to teach Y/n Adams, but he didn't know that the 19-year-old girl would be such a problem for him.

Art Donaldson thought the house he lived in was fancy, but when he arrived at the Adams' residence, he almost thought he'd stopped at the wrong place. The house was surreal. As he stepped out of the car, looking for the entrance, the front door was opened by Y/n, wearing an extremely short white skirt and a Nike sweatshirt in the same shade.

To Y/n, the skirt looked normal, but it was definitely the first thing Art noticed about the new student. — Hey, sorry for the visual confusion this place is. My mom loves trees around the house. Not that she likes dealing with dirt, because she hates it, but you get me. — Y/n said while descending the stairs with a gentle smile for the man, who smiled back.

— Nice to meet you, Art. I'm Y/n.

— Hi, sure, I'm happy to be here. — He said, grabbing the hand she had extended as a greeting. Art didn't know how many times he repeated in his head how soft her hand was.

— My parents are out for a while, but if they were here, they'd show you around. Since they're not, you've got me, so... I can show you the court out back if you want.

— The house is pretty cool. I'm curious to see the back. — Art said, looking at Y/n who was ahead of him, and it was almost inevitable for him not to check her out entirely when she turned to walk.

— So, how much tennis do you know? — He asked as Y/n stopped and opened the door leading them to the back of the house.

— Not much. My dad likes to play, so I learned a thing or two, but you know how it is.

— If he knows, why doesn't he teach you?

— Well, he wants me to learn from the best. — She said, glancing sideways at Art who chuckled as they passed by the pool and walked towards the tennis court.

— I think that's flattery. — He said and Y/n laughed.

— No, come on, I saw your last match, it was insanely good.

— Well, I... thank you. — Art nodded, a brief memory of Patrick's gesture before serving the ball flashing in his mind. He and Tashi had fought many times after that match, and even though he loved tennis, he didn't want to compete anymore. That irritated Tashi, so as a solution, she convinced Donaldson to at least continue practicing what he loved most, and she convinced him by arranging private lessons for Y/n Adams.

— So, where do we start? — Y/n asked, snapping Art out of his thoughts.

— Let's start by watching you play, then I can try to help you with any mistakes. — He said, and Y/n complied, grabbing her racket, taking off her sweatshirt and cap, and most importantly, capturing Art Donaldson's attention when her serve was practically perfect.

— Lower your elbow a bit and aim lower. — Art said, unfolding his arms and moving closer to the girl.

— Here. — He said softly, standing behind her.

— Position your feet better. — Art placed one hand on Y/n's waist and the other on her right arm.

— This way, you'll hit it perfectly. But you did well. — The blonde said, and Y/n looked up at him behind her and smiled in agreement.

— Alright, coach. — She would be a big problem for Art.

A month had passed since Art and Y/n started training together, and it was almost undeniable to Art that he noticed Y/n flirting with him naturally and spontaneously. Art reciprocated without any guilt. Tashi had no position to be mad about it, she had ruined their marriage before.

— I think that's it for today. You're good, Y/n. You impressed me a lot. — Art complimented Y/n, who was too distracted looking at him. Art was wearing a black Adidas T-shirt, black shorts, and a white cap worn backward, and Y/n had lost count of how many times she'd lost her breath looking at him.

— What? Sorry, what? — Y/n asked while laughing awkwardly. Art, on the other hand, smiled and bit his lower lip as he leaned against the fence behind him.

— Something distracting you? — He asked, and Y/n smiled at him, rolling her eyes and leaving the court with his eyes fixed on her and the tiny red skirt she was wearing.

— Are you going to stay there or can I leave you on the court? — Y/n shouted, and Art grabbed his tennis bag and ran after the younger girl, who slowed her pace for Donaldson to walk beside her. The sun was setting, and as they entered the house, Mr. and Mrs. Adams were coming down the stairs.

— All done? — Y/n's mother asked, looking in the mirror and smiling at the two of them.

— Art, how's my player doing? — Mr. Adams said, giving Art two pats on the back.

— She's been playing well, much better than many of my friends who played at Stanford. — Art said, and Y/n smiled, taking off her shoes on the sofa near the entrance.

— Be careful, because this girl is not modest at all, my friend. — Y/n's father said, and the girl opened her mouth in shock.

— I am modest!

— Yes, you are. — Her mother agreed with Y/n, giving her a kiss on the head, and she smiled, picking up her shoes from the floor.

— Art, it was great to see you, but now we're leaving, dear, or we'll be late. Bye, guys. — The two left the house, leaving Art and Y/n at the entrance, looking at the door.

— So... I think I should go...

— Do you want something to drink? Water, coffee, wine, beer? — Y/n turned quickly to look at Art, who laughed and adjusted his cap on his head.

— I don't want to intrude; you probably have more things to do...

— I don't, actually. I was going to the pool, you know? It helps relax the muscles after playing. — Y/n said, approaching the man.

— If you want to join me. — She offered, stepping up a stair and leaning on the railing, looking at him with puppy eyes.

— Uhm, I don't know if it's a good idea, it's late and you know... — Art cleared his throat and squinted, thinking of the right words — I don't know, you know, there's Tashi and...

— Shit. Shit, you're married, and I forgot about that. Right, don't worry, you... Y/n closed her eyes momentarily, remembering the existence of his family.

— But I think she wouldn't mind, it's just tennis, right? Art said, taking a step towards the stairs, and when Y/n opened her eyes, he was already closer than she imagined he would be.

— If you don't want to stay, it's okay... I just...

— It's important to relax after a game, and you need to learn that. I'm your coach, and I can help you, Y/n. — Art said, touching the girl's forearm, who smiled and nodded.

— Okay then, I can get my brother's swim shorts if you want. — She suggested, and the man agreed without thinking much, he just wanted to follow her and not be alone down there.

The two went upstairs while Art followed Y/n like a puppy. It was almost humiliating for him because if she asked, he would do anything she wanted. Y/n grabbed a pair of swim shorts for Art and went to her room.

— I'll change quickly, but you can stay here; I'll be right back. — Y/n said, and Art agreed, sitting on the edge of her bed and watching her enter the closet without doors. Y/n made a move inside, and her figure's reflection appeared in the mirror in front of the bed. Y/n took off her tennis clothes, that skirt Art wanted to take off so badly, and her underwear, and at that moment, Art shifted on the bed, feeling his cock getting hard.

— You can change there if you want, you can't see anything from here. — She shouted, and Art got up from the bed without taking his eyes off her.

— From here, you can see a lot. — He murmured while taking off his shorts, trying to adjust his length that wanted to jump out of his underwear.

— Damn. — Donaldson put on the black shorts and heard the girl again.

— So, you went to Stanford, right? — She didn't want to make the atmosphere awkward.

— Yeah, I did, and you? Are you in college? — He asked.

— I'm studying at Columbia. You know.

The brief conversation was the right amount of time for Y/n to come out of the closet wearing a black strapless bikini on top, and there was Art again, almost falling to the ground with the weight his cock was becoming.

— That's... that's cool, yeah.

He said, following her downstairs again, ignoring the fact that he shouldn't notice how her ass bounced with every step she took ahead of him.

Both walked to the pool, chatting about college and life until they entered the pool and kept staring at each other.

— So... feeling better? — Art asked as he approached the girl, who smiled at him.

— I don't know; my coach should teach me how to relax. — She said, and Art laughed. He murmured a small "okay" and brought his hands to her waist, pulling her further from the pool's edges.

— Is your wife okay with this? You touching another woman? — Y/n asked provocatively, and with a harsh movement, Art pulled her close to his body, making her feel his hard erection against her ass.

— She cheats on me with my best friend; she doesn't care at all.

— Damn, sorry, but she's really dumb. When the words left Y/n's mouth, Art laughed genuinely and brought one hand to her neck.

— Relax... — He said as his hand traveled down her body, passing over her breasts, her belly, and stopping at the waistband of her bikini bottom. When Y/n started grinding against his hard cock, Art lowered his hand and touched her sensitive spot.

— Damn, you're so wet. — Art said, moving his fingers inside her while bringing his other hand to her already bare chest. In a desperate move, Y/n turned her body and wrapped her legs around Art's waist, kissing him hard. Art's erection brushed against the girl's clit, and suddenly both were naked in the pool.

— Fuck me, please. — Y/n moaned against Art's mouth, who squeezed her ass hard. He and Tashi hadn't had physical contact in a long time, he could say he wasn't attracted to Tashi at all anymore, not after this.

— Damn, you're so hot. — Art said, attacking her neck and positioning himself at her entrance.

— Art, please. — As she begged, Art slid inside her and looked into Y/n's eyes for confirmation that everything was okay. When he received that confirmation, both of Art's hands fell on her ass, lifting her up and down on his cock. With not-so-fast thrusts, Art then picked up her body and turned her towards the pool's edge, making her bend over.

— Fuck, Art. — She moaned, and Art increased the speed inside her.

— Are you going to cum, baby? Uhm. Art asked as he moaned and continued thrusting deep into Y/n.— Are you going to cum for me? I'm going to cum too.

— Yeah? Cum in me Art, please.

— I'm going to cum inside that tight pussy, damn, so good, I've wanted to do this for so long. Art said and with a few more sloppy thrusts they both came.

— Cum. Y/n moaned and her body fell against Art's chest, who hugged her right after they both reached their peak. —That was good. — She whispered and he nodded in agreement behind her. The comfortable silence between the two ended when the front door slammed, both of their eyes widened.

Art thought about getting out of the pool but Y/n refused. Head quickly. They would see art naked if he decided to stand up. — Get down, below me. Get down. She said and Art lowered himself beneath her, with his head right between her legs, she smiled under the water and slowly came up for air for the last time. Y/n looked at the figure of her mother coming towards her and did her best to hide her nakedness.

— The restaurant went wrong, your father is irritated, I'm going to bed okay, dear. Her mother said just a few steps from the pool.

— What a shame, good night THEN. Y/n's tone unintentionally increased when Art stuck a finger into her.

— Are you well? It's getting late, don't stay there too long.

— Of course, I'll be right out. When he was about to leave the area she came back with Art's fingers in her pussy.

— Art left much later than us? Such a good man, it's a shame he's old for you, right, love. She said and Y/n just agreed, we received a strange look from her mother.

— Ok, good night. As soon as she left Y/n opened the clinic he was ecstatic and threw his forehead against the edge of the pool. Art's head shot up again and a mischievous look came with it. — This wasn’t fair. She complained and Art grabbed her waist, sat her down outside the pool, spread her legs and buried his face in them, sucking her like she was ice cream. — Art, my parents…my parents can see. Oh. She moaned as Art ran his tongue over her swollen clitoris. — uhm, right there. She moaned, taking her hands to his blonde hair, forcing him for more. — fuck, Art. That's it, uhm. She moaned softly and aart inserted two more fingers into her before she came once again.

— You are my sin, Y/n Adams. He said looking at her before getting out of the pool, grabbing a towel and keeping her out of the cold of the night. — I think I have to go.

— You come back?

— We still have class tomorrow, right?

Art knew that from now on he would need her like he needed air to breathe, Y/n Adams would be his biggest problem and he already knew that.

>>>>>>>

Requests are open ✨

[silverstar70]

Fandom: Criminal minds Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: English isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

Summary: Hotch and Y/N give up and explore their feelings for each other.

Warnings: 🔞‼️ new relationship, mentioned George Foyet, mentioned Haley Hotchner, scars talk, fluff moments, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex, memories, military backstory, family loss, comfort, idiots in love.

Words count: 6,411k Hope you like it and let me know what you think! Enjoy it!

Something new pt.2

Read part 1 here

Confessions

The car ride home was silent. His hand gripped firmly her tight, afraid that was just a dream. Her fingertips drew small circles on his forearms, over his evident veins. The longing from the past weeks mixed with the anticipation of what would come.

As soon as they were inside his house, the door barely closed behind them, they were on each other again. Aaron backed her up against the wall, his hands framing her face as he kissed her with a hunger that took her breath away. Y/N responded with equal fervor, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she pulled him closer.

“Y/N,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I want you.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. “Then take me, Aaron,” she whispered

His fingers gently brushed her cheek. “This might be the worst decision we ever make,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Or the best,” she countered, her own smile mirroring his.

His lips attached to hers again. Hotch’s hands moved down her body, over her curves. Her hands wrapped around his neck to pull him closer, to feel his body impossibly closer to her. His semi-hard cock was pressed against her stomach, increasing her desire.

With an effortless move, Hotch picked her up without breaking the kiss and guided them into the bedroom. He laid her gently in the middle of the bed and climbed over to cover her body with his. His cock was pressed more to her body, causing a suffocating moan from her.

As his fingertips brushed against her sides, her hands moved down his back until they reached the hem of his t-shirt. She slowly pulled it over his back when something shifted inside Hotch. The fear and the memories hit him like a train.

“Wait” he stopped her and pulled apart, sitting on the bed and leaving a concerned Y/N lying on the mattress. “It’s not you. I-It’s…”

Foyet. Y/N felt a pang of sorrow as she realized what he was referring to. How could she forget that? All the pain he inflicted was still there. Hotch tried so hard to put a brave face on, for his team, for Jack, but sometimes when he was alone in his bed, and the night fell he found himself alone with his demons and the memories.

She sat beside him and cupped his face in her hands, looking into his watery eyes. “It doesn’t change anything, Hotch.” Y/N placed a tender kiss on his lips, a silent promise of understanding and support. “But I don’t wanna force you. We could just watch a movie or something.”

“No.” he said firmly, “I want this. I want you. I just hate that he still has some power over my life.”

Her heart swelled with affection for the man in front of her. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I’ve been there more times than I would like to admit.”

“How did you move on?”

“I didn’t. I just learned to live with it.” she gave him a sad smile while her hand caressed his cheeks. “I know you miss Haley, and I know you blame yourself for what happened but, Aaron, it’s not your fault. You did everything you could to save her and Jack. And you did. Jack is alive because of you.”

“But he will grow up without his mom because of me.”  His voice was low and broken.

“Foyet killed Haley not you. Jack never blamed you, you’re his hero. And I’m hundred percent sure you’ll do everything in your power to never let Jack forget his mom. You are a great dad, Aaron.”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something deeper. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Aaron leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss. This time, there was no urgency, no rush. They took their time, exploring each other, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Aaron's hands gently slid down her back, his touch feather-light, as if he was afraid to break the spell.

Y/N shifted to straddle him with their lips still attached. His body responded almost immediately, letting her feel how much he wanted her. Slowly, she reached for the hem of his shirt once again, her movements careful and deliberate. Hotch watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

As she lifted the fabric, revealing the scars that marked his torso, Y/N felt a wave of sadness and anger mixed with pride and admiration wash over her. A big part of her hated Foyet for what he had done, for the pain he had caused to both Hotch and Jack. But there was a part who admired Aaron for his strength, for his dedication to his son, for never giving up.

Aaron tensed slightly when her hand touched her chest, his eyes searching hers for any sign of disgust or pity. But all he saw was love and acceptance, a deep understanding that went beyond words.

"These scars," she said softly, tracing them with her fingertips, "they’re not a sigh of weakness, Aaron. You’re a survivor, you won.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "Sometimes, I wish I could forget."

"I know," she whispered, her lips brushing against his.

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of his scars and everything they represented. He pulled her close, holding her head and capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Their kiss deepened, their bodies moving together in a slow, sensual rhythm. Aaron’s hands found the hem of her shirt, and he gently pulled it up, his fingers brushing against her skin. Y/N lifted her arms, allowing him to remove the shirt completely. He paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every detail. His gaze fell on a big scar on her right side, his fingertips brushed over it while his curious look was locked with hers. With her hand tangled in his hair, she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“We all have them, but they don’t define us, Aaron. We’re so much more than that.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N smiled, her hands moving to his chest. “So are you, Aaron.”

The sincerity in her voice broke something inside him, and he felt tears sting his eyes. He had never allowed himself to be this vulnerable with anyone, but with Y/N, it felt right. It felt like he was finally home.

He pulled her down so that their faces were level, his hands framing her face as he captured her lips in a kiss that was filled with everything he couldn't put into words. It was a kiss that spoke of love, of gratitude, of the deep connection that had formed between them.

Y/N responded with equal fervor, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she poured her heart into the kiss. She could feel his love, his need, in the way he kissed her, and it only made her love him more.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts.

“Let me show you.” She whispered, her fingers brushing the hair from his forehead.

She pushed him lightly making him lie down on the mattress while still straddling him. Y/N bent down to kiss him tenderly as his hands traveled down her back, over her curves. Her kisses trailed down over his jawline, down his neck, and on his collarbone making him giggle.

Her hands moved slowly over his chest; she could feel his muscles tense under her soft touch. Her kisses went further down while she parted his legs to make room for her to stand in between. Her lips met the first scar and Hotch immediately tensed.  

“You okay?” she asked in a soft voice, looking at him searching for any sign of discomfort.

“Yeah. Just go slow, okay?” Hotch’s whispered, so quietly she barely heard him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Y/N continued to kiss each scar, worshipping every single inch of his marked chest. She wanted to show him how much she cared about him, that she didn’t care about the scars, and that she liked him for him. Not for his past, not for anything else. She wanted to show him he was worthy of love.

Y/N could feel the tension leaving his body, his muscles relaxing under her touch. His hands, tangled in her hair, began to release them as he relaxed. She climbed over him once again while kissing his neck. Lost in each other once again, Hotch took her sports bra off, throwing it somewhere across the room.

The tension and the fear were just memories. Desire was spreading in his body. In the heat of the moment, with a swift move, Hotch rolled them ending up on top of her. Her eyes widened in surprise and a gasp escaped her mouth. 

Her breasts rested in his strong hands while he sucked one nipple and massaged the other. His mouth left wet kisses all over her chest making her moan.

“Don’t leave me hickeys.” She whimpered

“Too late, baby.” He said as he left a red mark over her breast.

She hissed in frustration, but she just didn’t want to let him she liked it. He leaned to kiss her again, a searing kiss to explore each other.

His hands roamed her body, exploring the curves and lines that he had come to know so well. Y/N responded eagerly, her own hands tracing the muscles of his back, her fingers digging into his skin as she pulled him closer.

Their movements were slow and deliberate, each touch a silent affirmation of their feelings for each other. Aaron took his time, savoring every moment, every sound that escaped her lips. He wanted to memorize every inch of her, to make this moment last forever.

When his lips found the sensitive spot on her neck, Y/N let out a soft moan, her head tilting back to give him better access. Aaron smiled against her skin, pleased with her reaction as he continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his hands caressing her sides.

"You're amazing," he whispered against her skin, his breath hot and teasing.

Y/N arched into him, her body craving more of his touch. "Aaron, please..."

He chuckled softly, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hip. "Patience, Lieutenant."

But he couldn't deny her for long. The need between them was too strong, too overwhelming. He moved lower, kissing his way down her body, taking his time to appreciate every curve, every dip, and every rise.

He worshipped her scar like she did with his moment before. His kisses were gentle on her skin but made her tense at the first touch, but she quickly forgot it and savored the moment

When he reached her hips, he paused, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her underwear.

"May I?" he asked, his voice deep with desire.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as she felt him slowly pull the fabric down her legs. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Aaron discarded the last piece of clothing, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of her completely bare before him. He let out a slow breath, his hands caressing her thighs as he looked up at her with a mixture of awe and love.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence.

She blushed at his words, her heart racing in her chest. "Aaron..."

He didn't give her a chance to respond. Instead, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, then another, and another, moving closer to her core with each kiss. Y/N's breath quickened, her hands gripping the sheets as she felt the heat of his breath against her most sensitive area.

When his lips finally made contact, she let out a soft cry, her body arching toward him as a surge of pleasure washed over her. The intensity of his touch, the way his tongue flicked and teased her, made her mind go blank with nothing but the sensation of him between her thighs.

Aaron was deliberate, almost reverent in the way he worshipped her body. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he explored her with his mouth. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle nip and suck, was designed to drive her closer to the edge, to make her lose herself in the pleasure he was giving her.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with admiration as he continued his ministrations. "So perfect."

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, her body trembling as she struggled to keep her composure. Each movement of his mouth sent electric jolts through her, making it impossible to think, to do anything but feel. His praises whispered against her skin only heightened the overwhelming sensations.

"Aaron, please," she gasped, her voice trembling as the coil of tension inside her wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap. She was on the brink, teetering at the edge of release, and she needed him—needed this—more than anything.

Aaron hummed softly, the vibration against her most sensitive spot sending a jolt of pleasure through her. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes dark with desire and love. Without breaking eye contact, he intensified his efforts, his tongue moving faster and deeper

"Let go for me, Y/N," he urged softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I’ve got you."

His words, combined with the relentless pleasure he was giving her, were her undoing. With a sharp cry, Y/N’s body tensed, then shattered as the wave of her orgasm crashed over her. The world around her blurred as pleasure consumed her and her vision narrowed.

“Oh God, Aaron!”

Aaron didn’t stop, guiding her through the aftershocks with gentle licks and kisses, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she was trembling beneath him. Only when she had relaxed completely did he move back up her body, pressing tender kisses to her abdomen, her chest, and finally, her lips.

"You’re incredible," he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with affection.

Y/N smiled, still dazed from the intensity of her release, but she wasn’t done with him yet. She cupped his head pushing him down gently to place a kiss on his lips, testing herself. One of her hands found its way between their bodies down to his pants.

"My turn," she whispered, her voice filled with playful determination as she massaged him over his pants.

Aaron groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding up her sides to rest on her hips, his touch possessive and tender. The feel of her bare skin against his, the heat of her body, ignited a fire in him that he could barely control.

As Y/N kissed him, she could feel him hardening under her touch. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, the rapid beat matching her own. The vulnerability he had shown her, the trust he had placed in her, only made her love him more.

When she felt him tense beneath her but didn’t stop her lips from trailing down his neck to his collarbone. She took her time, kissing every inch of his skin, savoring the taste of him, the way his breath hitched with every touch.

"Y/N," he gasped, his hands tightening on her hips as she continued her massage. The need in his voice, the raw desire, sent a thrill through her, spurring her on.

She smiled against his skin, enjoying the way he reacted to her touch, the way his body responded so eagerly to her. With a smirk on her face, she instructed him to stand allowing herself to have a magnificent view of his body.

As he stood between her legs, her fingertips traced patterns on his lower abdomen, over the waistband of his pants. She paused and looked up to him.

"May I?" she asked, echoing his earlier words, her voice soft and teasing.

Aaron’s breath caught in his throat, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked down at her. The sight of her there, her eyes filled with desire and love, nearly undid him.

"Please," he breathed, his voice strained with need.

 With a smile, Y/N slowly pulled the fabric down, revealing the hard length of him. The sight of him, so ready for her, sent a wave of heat through her, and she couldn’t resist but took his cook in her hands and began moving up and down, slowly, agonizingly slowly.

Hotch let out a low groan, his head falling back. Feeling that vulnerable, so exposed was almost too much, yet he never felt so loved. Her words were sincere, her love was pure, and the look of admiration printed on her face was more than enough for him.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he tried to hold back, to give her time, but it was getting harder with every passing second. The need to be inside her, to feel her around him, was overwhelming.

Sensing his desperation, Y/N didn’t tease him further.  “I need you.”

He groaned softly at her words, But just as he was about to move forward, he hesitated, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt.

“Are you sure? Do I need to use protection?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with love and trust as she gazed up at him. “I’m sure. And no, I’m clean. I want to feel you.”

“I’m clean too.” He said in a serious tone. That was all the permission he needed and with his cock in hand he slowly pushed himself inside of her. They both groaned at the new feeling, Y/N gasped as the sensation of him stretching and filling her was more intense than she anticipated.

Aaron paused, giving her time to adjust, his breath coming in shallow pants as he fought to maintain control. The sensation of being inside her, of feeling her warmth envelop him, was almost too much to bear, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from losing himself too soon.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained with effort.

“More than okay,” she replied, her hands gripping his shoulders as she urged him to continue. “Please, Aaron…”

He slowly pushed deeper until he was fully seated inside her. They both let out a shaky breath at the sensation, their bodies perfectly aligned as they lay pressed together, skin to skin. The connection between them was palpable, a thread of intimacy that bound them together in a way that went far beyond the physical.

He began to move deliberately and slowly, wanting to feel every muscle of hers tightening around him. His thrusts were slow and deep, so deep she felt her eyes roll in her head. Her hands wrapped around him as her nails scratched his back.

Aaron rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closing as he savored the moment, the feeling of finally being with the woman he wanted for so long. “You feel amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the man above her. “So do you,” she whispered back as she kissed him softly.

Aaron’s movements were deliberate and controlled, each thrust designed to bring her pleasure as he held her close, his hands caressing her body with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

Y/N’s breaths came in soft, gasping moans, her head tilting back as she lost herself in the sensations Aaron was creating. The pleasure built slowly, a steady heat that grew with each thrust, each caress of his hands. She could feel the tension built within her again, tighter and tighter as they moved together in perfect harmony.

“Aaron… I’m close…” she breathed out, her nails digging into his back as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.

He responded by quickening his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and more urgent as he pushed her closer to the edge. “Come for me, Y/N,” he whispered in her ear, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you.”

That was all it took. Y/N cried out as the tension snapped, her body shuddering beneath him as she was consumed by another wave of pleasure, even more intense than the first. Aaron groaned as he felt her tightening around him.

“Give me one more, baby.” He whispered in her ears.

He lifted himself up to have a better look at the view under him. Within seconds he was pounding into her once again, his hands gripped firmly her hips to pull her closer to him. His low groans were music to her ears and sent shivers through her spine.

“God, Y/N” a moan escaped his mouth.

His hand found its way to her clit, he started drawing small circles putting pressure with his thumb. A familiar feeling began to grow in her stomach, like a volcano ready to erupt. Y/N was failing at controlling her body, the pleasure was overwhelming, and her head felt dizzy.

He knew she was close; he could feel it around him. He could see the pleasure taking over her and a sense of pride washed over him.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he ordered as his fingertips kept moving over her clit to add pleasure. The thrusts turned more precise hitting the same spot over and over. Her body trembled beneath him as a strong wave of pleasure hit her more intensely.

“Oh God!” she cried out in pleasure.

With a few more thrusts, he followed her over the edge, his body tensing as he spilled inside her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, they were both lost in the overwhelming sensations, their bodies trembling with the force of their release.

When the aftershocks finally subsided, Aaron collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms as they both struggled to catch their breath. Y/N nestled against him, her head resting on his chest as she listened to the rapid beating of his heart.

“That was…” he began breathlessly.

“Worth the wait.” She continued looking up at him.

“Definitely.”

They lay like that for a long time, the only sound in the room was their soft breaths. Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment settle over her, a warmth that spread through her entire body as she started to trace the lines of his scars, her fingertips brushing over them slightly feeling his muscles still tensing under her touch.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” Aaron’s fingers gently traced patterns on her back, his touch soothing and comforting as he held her close. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, her eyes closing as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Me neither,” she replied, her voice filled with contentment.

Aaron tightened his hold on her, his heart swelling with love for the woman in his arms. He had never imagined that he could feel this way again, that he could find someone who saw him, truly saw him, and loved him despite everything. But Y/N had done just that, and he knew without a doubt that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“It’s good to have you here,” he whispered, the words filled with all the emotion he couldn’t express any other way.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with love and affection. “It’s good to be here.”

He leaned down to kiss her, a slow, lingering kiss that conveyed everything he felt for her. When they finally pulled apart, they were both smiling, a quiet happiness settling over them as they lay together in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

Eventually, sleep began to creep in, their eyelids growing heavy as the exhaustion of the day caught up with them. Y/N snuggled closer to Aaron, her body perfectly molded to his as they drifted off together, the warmth of his embrace lulling her into a peaceful slumber.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered kissing her forehead.

“Night, Aaron.” She mumbled half asleep.

*

Y/N woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains, the room bathed in a gentle golden glow. She stretched languidly, her muscles pleasantly sore from the night before. But as she turned to reach for Aaron, her hand met empty sheets, cool to the touch. Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, she sat up, feeling a momentary pang of disappointment at his absence.

The room was quiet, the only sound was the faint rustle of leaves outside the window. Y/N’s gaze wandered around the space, taking in the simple, yet cozy surroundings of Aaron’s bedroom. The events of the night before came flooding back, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks as she remembered every tender moment, every whispered confession.

Pushing the covers aside, she slipped out of bed, her feet touching the cool floor. She spotted one of Aaron’s shirts draped over the back of a chair and couldn’t resist the urge to put it on. The fabric was soft, carrying his familiar scent, and it made her feel wrapped in his warmth, even though he wasn’t there beside her.

As she walked down the hallway, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reached her, and she smiled, her heart swelling with affection. When she entered the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat at the sight before her.

Aaron was standing by the stove, his back to her, wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers. The early morning light highlighted the strong lines of his back, the curve of his shoulders, and the way his muscles moved subtly beneath his skin as he worked. His hair was slightly tousled, evidence of the night’s rest, and the sight of him so relaxed, so at ease in this moment, made her heart skip a beat.

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, just watching him for a moment, the domesticity of the scene filling her with a sense of contentment she hadn’t known she was missing. It was such a simple thing, waking up to find the person you loved making breakfast, but in that moment, it felt like everything she’d ever wanted.

“Good morning,” she finally said, her voice soft but carrying across the quiet space.

Aaron turned at the sound of her voice, a smile immediately lighting up his face as he took in the sight of her standing there in his shirt, looking so effortlessly beautiful. “Good morning,” he replied, his voice warm and filled with affection. “I was just about to bring you breakfast in bed.”

She walked over to him, her bare feet making soft sounds on the tiled floor. “I like this better,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her cheek against his back.

Aaron’s hand covered hers, holding it against his stomach as he leaned back into her embrace. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of her. “You looked so peaceful.”

“I slept better than I have in a long time,” she admitted, her voice muffled against his skin. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, a soothing rhythm that grounded her in the moment.

“I’m glad,” he said, turning around in her arms so that they were face to face. He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his eyes soft as they met hers. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Y/N blushed, ducking her head slightly. “I could say the same about you.”

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and warm as it rumbled through his chest. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever called me beautiful before.”

“Well, get used to it,” she replied, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling his muscles under her fingertips. “Because I’ll remind you every time I can.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t try. Instead, he leaned down and captured her lips in a tender kiss, one that spoke of gratitude, love, and the deep connection they shared. Y/N melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer, savoring the warmth of his body against hers.

When they finally pulled apart, Aaron rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “I suppose I could get used to it,” he said softly, his hands resting on her hips, fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt that she wore.

Aaron smiled a contented, almost boyish smile that made her heart skip a beat. “How do you like your eggs?” he asked, nodding towards the stove where he had already started breakfast.

“Surprise me,” she said with a grin, not caring much about what he made as long as they were together.

Aaron nodded and turned back to the stove, one arm still wrapped around her waist as he resumed cooking. Y/N stayed close, her head resting against his shoulder as she watched him work, feeling a sense of peace that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

The sizzle of eggs in the pan, the smell of coffee brewing, the warmth of Aaron’s body against hers—everything about the moment was perfect. It was the kind of morning she had always dreamed of but had never quite believed she would have.

“Do you cook often?” she asked, her fingers tracing random patterns on his back as she looked up at him.

“Not as often as I’d like,” he admitted, glancing down at her with a small smile. “But I enjoy it when I can. It’s… therapeutic in a way.”

Y/N nodded, understanding completely. “I get that. There’s something calming about it.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for everything that had led them to this point. They had both been through so much—pain, loss, and heartache—but somehow, they had found their way to each other. And now, as they stood together in the soft morning light, she knew that this was where she was meant to be.

When breakfast was ready, Aaron turned off the stove and plated the food, sliding the plates onto the small kitchen table. Y/N poured them each a cup of coffee, and they sat down together, side by side, their legs brushing under the table.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the occasional smile or touch all that was needed to convey the deep connection between them. There was no need for words; everything that mattered was already understood.

After they finished eating, Aaron leaned back in his chair, watching Y/N as she sipped her coffee, her eyes closed in contentment. He couldn’t help but reach out, his hand brushing against her cheek, drawing her attention back to him.

“What?” she asked with a smile, setting her mug down as she turned to face him.

“Just…you,” he said, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “This was not how I wanted things to go. I wanted to ask you out, bring you flowers, and take you on a date. I don’t want a one-time thing, Y/N. not with you.”

“Neither do I, Aaron.” She reassured him, closing the gap between them to place a kiss on his lips. A silent promise that she meant every word.

The kiss turned more meaningful as he pulled her closer to him holding the back of her neck. The force he used to pull her closer made her get up and stand between his legs. His hands wrapped immediately around her waist. Her hands cupped his face, deepening the kiss, making him groan. When air became a need, they pulled apart, a smile spread on both their face.

“I’ll take you out, anyway.”

“I don’t complain.” She said smiling while caressing his cheeks. “Just promise me we won’t let the job get between us.”

“I promise. We’ll make it work.” He said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Whatever it takes.”

As the morning continued in its soft, serene rhythm, Y/N stood by the window, gazing out at the peaceful suburban neighborhood and she found herself lost in the tranquility of the moment. A stark contrast to the chaos and danger that always defined her life, especially during her time in the Navy.

Aaron was tidying up the kitchen, the clinking of dishes and the soft hum of his movements providing a comforting backdrop. Y/N turned her gaze back to him, watching as he moved with an effortless grace, his presence filling the room with a sense of calm.

But as she watched him, she became acutely aware of the scar on her abdomen, of how Hotch avoided asking questions that she knew he had. All of sudden her mind drifted back to the day she had earned it and unconsciously started tracing the edge of it through Hotch’s shirt.

Aaron, ever perceptive, noticed her change in demeanor. He set down the dish he was drying and walked over to her, his brows furrowing with concern. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. “You okay?”

She looked up at him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He didn’t push, but his eyes lingered on her face, studying her with a tenderness that made her heart ache. After a moment, his gaze dropped to where her hand rested on her abdomen, and immediately understood.

Aaron hesitated for a moment, not wanting to pry, but his curiosity and concern got the better of him. “Y/N… can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice gentle, though she could sense where the conversation was heading.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against her hand where it rested on the scar. “This… this scar. How did you get it?”

Y/N looked down at his hand on hers, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into her skin. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. It wasn’t a story she shared often, but she knew Aaron would understand and after he allowed himself to be vulnerable around her it was only fair for her to do the same.

“I got it a few years ago,” she began, her voice steady despite the heaviness in her heart. “I was overseas, on a mission with my team. We were part of a rescue operation—there was a situation where we had to extract another team from a remote location. It was supposed to be a straightforward mission, but things went wrong. The helicopter we were in was hit by a missile.”

Aaron’s eyes darkened with concern as he listened, his hand tightening slightly on hers as if to anchor her in the present.

“We crashed in enemy territory,” she continued, her voice quieter now as if the memories were too heavy to speak loudly. “The impact… it was brutal. I took shrapnel to the abdomen, and for a moment, I thought… I thought that was it. But I was lucky, and we were eventually rescued.”

Aaron’s hand moved from hers to gently lift the hem of the shirt, exposing the scar that marred her otherwise flawless skin. He traced the edge of it with his fingertips, his touch featherlight as if he was afraid of causing her pain.

“But not everyone made it,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper now. “My older brother… he was on the team we rescued. He didn’t make it.”

Aaron’s breath hitched at her words, his heart breaking for her. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with empathy and sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

She nodded, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “Losing him… it tore me apart. I got in a really bad place after his death but an old friend of mine helped me through it. So, I fought because that’s what my brother would have wanted.”

Aaron pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she finally let a few tears slip free. She buried her face in his chest, finding comfort in the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his embrace. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t need to. All she needed was someone to lean on and he was there for that.

When Y/N finally pulled back, she looked up at Aaron with a mixture of gratitude and love in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t talk about it often, but it feels good to share it with you.”

“You can always talk to me,” Aaron replied, his voice steady and reassuring. He smiled a soft, almost shy smile that made her heart flutter. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

“The best pair,” she replied with a grin, leaning in to kiss him.

Aaron pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers as if to make sure she was okay. “How about we take it easy today?” he suggested gently. “We can stay in, watch movies, or just… be together. Whatever you want.”

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice soft but filled with warmth. “I’d like that a lot.”

Aaron smiled back at her, his eyes reflecting the same warmth and affection. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination.

He took her hand in his, leading her out of the kitchen and back into the living room. They settled on the couch, Y/N curling up against Aaron’s side as he draped an arm around her, pulling her close. The TV was on, playing some movie they barely paid attention to as they simply enjoyed the comfort of being together.

Tag: @sweetbearcolorgarden

Read part 3 here

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tried to covertly exclude one of my friends from game nights ? 🎮🎧📞

tw: disordered eating, self harm

I've got a discord friend group of about 15 people though only 10 or so are regularly active and game nights often are usually around 6 people but they rotate who participates often. We're all in the 20s and mostly nonbinary / genderqueer / trans one way or another. I'm 25 ftm personally (they them) and the friend this is about in particular is 22mtf (she/they).

Friend is really excited to hit the 1 year marker in her transition and loves sharing how excited she is about her progress - how strangers at her job are gendering her correctly more and more often, how her cup sizes are growing, how much weight she's lost, wardrobe updates, getting to learn girl things from their very supportive mom, etc etc etc. It's all very exciting, I remember hitting my 1 year marker and i'm genuinely really happy for her.

The thing is I struggled with disordered eating in the past. Several others in our friend group have as well and it's something we've talked about both in related and unrelated convos to this issue. Friend keeps an excel spreadsheet with her measurements from bust to hips to weight and will update us frequently whether we've expressed interest in hearing the exact numbers or not. Exact Numbers was one of the things I kept track of and hearing her tracking them (for very different reasons) will often set me off and i'll start taking more and more unhealthy actions, falling back into disordered habits.

Friend has adhd and very poor impulse control. She often joins conversations and talks over people, completely changes conversational topics on a dime, or forgets who is in a call at any moment and brings up someone's triggers. She'll almost always apologize if someone mentions a social mistake she's made, but because the weight/food intake/number watching is so important to them as a way to track their transition it's the one thing that keeps coming back and back and back. I and the others have tried talking in voice calls, mentioning in text chats in the group and even DMing her but because of the topic and this group being the friend group she feels safest in (we were all the first to know and hyped them up on the hrt journey) these are some convos she only gets to have here

and because of the topic, i feel rude or embarrassed when I have to say "hey can we not talk about this right now or i'm gonna have to leave". So on most nights if it comes up I'll just deafen / go afk / just zone out entirely until the conversation has passed. If it doesn't seem like it's going to or they are so in depth that it's genuinely triggering a self harm response i'll fully leave instead so she can keep having her fun and get excited

Game nights are different though

I'm usually the host of game night and so can pick when we play our silly little games. Obviously people can and do still hangout and do things together Not on specific game nights, and we all do, but game nights are my thing. We play party games over discord or multiplayer competition games or lately have been getting into games like content warning and lethal company when there's 4 or sometimes 5 of us (either someone wants to hang out but only watch or we rotate around who plays round by round)

Friend is often working in the evenings and so bc this is an online friend group they don't actually know my work schedule. We usually only have about half the total number of participants be around for game night anyways, so I've been thinking of occasionally lining up game nights for nights when she's mentioned being busy by saying i work the other nights - but only sometimes. I do really like friend. She can be so much fun to hang out with, excitingly competitive and with interesting knowledge to share and generally a good sport no matter the actual game we're playing. But sometimes the worry about the triggering and the trigginering itself are too much. sometimes i just can't handle when she does it and knowing i can't leave and asking her to stop expressing her joy makes me feel like an asshole anyways so i don't want to be around it.

To be clear. I do not think they are an asshole. Friend is genuinely one of my friends. I like her and hanging out with her. they do not trigger me (or any of the others w this same trigger) maliciously. this is solely would I be the asshole.

TLDR: My friends way of tracking her transition sometimes triggers my eating disorder. would I be the asshole for planning game nights that I host and cannot leave / tune out conversations during so that she cannot attend as often in hopes that I am not triggered as often?

[overtaken-stream]

Do you have any writing plans involving Katakuri or the Big mom pirates?

Monster's Voice Is Sweet To Hear

Charlotte Katakuri x F!Wife!Reader

! !NSFW! !

This is from ao3, last year, sorry for any grammar mistakes, as well as my different writing, this is also the first time I wrote filth, aside from the love-making in the Ace fic from Ao3. I want to write something for him but the ideas are just not coming to me. I also didn't specify readers race. Just that it's a female and tall/stronger then a human since we all know Big Mom won't just toss away Katakuri and make him marry a boring human with no specialties. this could work on all shapes and sizes of reader, chubby and skinny.

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Rarely in the dead of night, a monster such as Katakuri needs love. It's something you can't say no to. After all, how can you deny that unnerving voice of his.

Warnings: Size difference, POST-WANO SPOILERS, multiple rounds.

In the quiet night, where only the humming of your voice is heard.

Light from the cake-inspired lamp bounces off the pink walls the shadow that's in a silhouette of a woman falls onto the giant bed in the center of the room.

On a quiet night, a married girl takes her jewelry off and places it in one of the drawers the magenta bureau contains.

You stand up from the chair, getting closer to the bed. Getting out of your clothes and putting on a modified (F/C) nightgown, you straighten the hot pink details running over your tall figure as you lie down on the heavenly bed.

Only at the sound of a door opening did you quickly get under the blanket. The sound of metal and leather rubbing against itself notifies you of the person who walked in before they can even say anything.

``(Y/N).``

``Katakuri.`` You shyly show your face from the covers to see the sight of your husband of 3 years now, even after all this time you can feel the blush creeping up your face, no matter how long you will never get used to seeing a man that's able to look down at you. That stoic and firey gaze always unleashed the butterflies deep inside your belly.

``I apologize for startling you, I've seemed to... Be distracted lately.`` This was his way of saying I forgot to knock on the door. With much time you start to learn the ways of Katakuri's speech patterns. Start to recognize what words his pride was holding back even from you. Apologetic wasn't one of them. It isn't like he's trying to hide something after all you've seen his biggest weakness in action multiple times, gobbling all kinds of sweets. But never have you thought forgetting was something Katakuri was capable of. It wasn't until after the incident at Pudding's wedding involving the Strawhats that Katakuri's mask, which he had been carrying since marrying you (probably much, much longer than that) truly shattered. Thanks to his younger sister Flampe not keeping her mouth shut about how horrid her big brother is physically and then about his treatment towards her, after what she did. The brat even tried to approach you to run her tongue about Katakuri. Your husband.

Honor is off the table when faced with a person with that kind of mindset. Never mind the respect when facing a worthy opponent.

``Mind if I join you?``

``No, not at all.`` You smile as you watch him carefully get out of his uniform. Never did you imagine you would smile at Katakuri, compared to the sad bride and groom the two of you were. The new life treated you both kindly, it wasn't fast but it wasn't slow-paced either.

The stiff and awkward interactions turned into small conversations about interests and they blossomed into what can only be fondness. The road came with its fare-share of bumps, and both of you dived head first in this with only your families in mind, ready to throw away what little freedom both of you had for your parent's satisfaction.

At the wedding ceremony, walls were built. Walls that cracked the more time you spent with each other.

``Y'know, Luffy was announced as an Emperor today.`` You fill in the silence. Knowing Katakuri's favorite topic you slide in the information.

Katakuri stops mid-changing and raises his head at that. He had told you about Luffy a couple of weeks ago, finally emptying his head to you about the topic he was trying to tell you the moment he returned to your room injured. You didn't push him back then.

The time will come when he'll bring it up. You would tell yourself. It's his calculations of reactions that hold him, little insecurities eating him up and even if the conversation was late, you are happy that he was finally opening up. To you at least.

``Is that so?``

``Yeah, it was in today's newspaper. It said he defeated Kaidou, impressive huh?``

You watch as he nods his head. You debate for a second if you should tell him the next sentence, but he is her son, after all, today he dedicated himself to the library (A time he cherishes since it happens so rarely. A battle with the Straw Hat sure tired him out. You wonder if it's a blessing in disguise sometimes. If it is you wouldn't be surprised.) and judging from his lack of knowledge about the feat Luffy accomplished, you might as well tell him now...

``Surgeon of Death and The Eustass kid from the Worst Generation were involved... They defeated Big Mom.`` At that, you can feel how the temperature drops in the room, his movements to put the clothes back in their place slowed down until they came to a stop. It almost felt like time had stopped.

``I've heard about that. All the commotion in the palace this morning was from Perospero's call. They needed a backup to retrieve them.`` He says as the heavyweight is lifted off the room, letting go of the fabric he was holding onto, the time begins to roll once again.

You don't bat an eye at Katakuri's actions and his casualness. You doubt he would mourn his mother.

You quiver as the blanket is thrown off of you, the chill biting your arms and chest before he joins you on the bed. You fix your body position as the natural warmth his body carries sends shivers down your spine. Your back facing his chest as his giant hand creeps up to cradle your waist.

You shy away or try to. But the moment his fingers softly graze your pelvis, a tight knot starts developing, his shy yet soothing and careful touches sending the blood up to your face.

He's mindful of his heaviness, even if you are taller than a human should be, more tolerant and powerful, he treats you the same as he would to his child siblings, with feather-light touches. It's instinct at this point. It makes you nervous. Makes you red and sad, as well as happy that he also wasn't the only one with bad habits.

Habits that differentiate you two are rare. Since most of them are dependent on higher-than-an-average-human height.

``Is this okay?`` his open eyes travel over your face devoid of any skin color except red. You nod.

``...May I?`` The awkwardness in his voice is precious. Sweet as a mochi should be. Not how a monster's should be.

It makes your heart skip a beat and your core to pulse.

The impatience takes over when he's leaving lingering touches closer and closer to where you would like the itchiness to go away. The temptation to grab his hand and drag it to your genitalia is strong. Biting the bottom lip you feel his hand cup your crotch, and it's a feeling you'll never get tired of.

He shoves the gown's bottom piece up to your belly button, getting the cue you grab the (F/C) silky cloth. It's tacky but it was one of the more subtle ones that Brûlée has picked for you.

You shift your left thigh to the side when the tips of his finger flex on top of your clitoris, a thin layer of fabric stopping him from intruding, yet he is still making you pulse and drowning you in the electric shock of pleasure. The fingers slowly run over it, again and again putting no pressure behind the movement.

When his right-hand digs behind your back, your flushed face barely turns around to ask him what he is doing.

``Changing position...`` Katakuri says as he carefully scoops your neck between his forearm and upper arm, his left hand grabs onto your right hip.

His show of strength as he gets you on top of him in a second, leaves your knees shaking. At first, you lay on his chest with your back pressed against him.

Even with your superior height he somehow manages to make you feel as if you were a human, it makes you doubt your reality for a millisecond, his right hand balancing you and the other one going down your body a bit too fast, your suspicions are confirmed by the impatience with which he tosses the blanket off of your bodies. The room temperature now no longer poses a threat to your skin.

This time he isn't as slow with his actions, leaving the undergarments on, he rubs up and down your slit, feeling its warmth escape onto his sweaty hands.

The quiet room was momentarily full of little gasps and beating hearts of both parties. A squeak leaves your mouth as you rise from your position on his chest, leaning on your elbows that are still... On his chest. The coldness that sudden separation brings on your back is forgotten as you look down to where Katakuri is making laps around you. The moisture grows in seconds when he presses his thumb on your clit, slowly rocking it sideways and tightening the knot deep within you.

You try to bite the bottom of your mouth to not let the noises escape but as Katakuri flattens his hand so his index and middle finger are sliding and tickling your entrance, the task to stay quiet becomes very difficult. You feel the way he snakes his second hand up your breasts while the other separates the undergarment from your folds. Little moans sneak past your lips as you look straight down, the bulge that shows from underneath your thighs just makes your heart beat out of your ribcage.

Katakuri lays his forehead on your shoulder as he feels the wetness coating the surroundings of your entrance, he knew the smaller hands were coming before feeling them pull down the owner's panties, momentarily stopping for her to take it off before he continued infiltrating it. His right hand fondling with your breasts squishing them but not rough enough to hurt you.

For a split second, you felt the pain of the stretch, arching your back and tossing your head over his shoulder as Katakuri's other hand played with the silk-covered nipple, he pushed his forehead down on your cleavage, it wasn't in his intentions but the size difference was really making your mind mushy.

You could feel him shaking from below you as you rest on top of him, closed eyes and clean mind absorbing your movements.

For a couple of seconds, you lay like that, panting breathes and already sweat covered. He won't move. He won't hurt you. He'll give you time to adjust.

Your hand lands on his crimson hair, fingers run through the short pink layers devoid of grey. It startles him, eyes snapping open he looks to his left shoulder where you are resting your head and meets his beloved's smiling face staring back at him.

Pink dusted his cheeks and as his heart jumped, his mouth opened and closed, this nervous feeling is shameful to him. The big brother Katakuri was still getting used to his new-not-so-new feelings towards new-not-so-new his wife, and expressing them to her face turned out to be the most complicated and difficult part. (Aside from Brûlée, she has seen him at his worst. It's a new feeling, a new type of embarrassment he hasn't experienced with anyone, not even Brûlée. The thought of this ever getting out almost frightens him. It frightens him.)

At last, he chooses to look away as you chuckle.

``C-can you move now?`` He nearly forgot.

``Are you... Sure?``

``Yeah, now c'mon... I was so close...``

He continues his motions with soft pink shades over his face, and slowly the two fingers slide deeper into your gummy walls. The clenching makes him wish it was some other part of his inside of you instead of his fingers. He listens as hisses leave your lips from the painfully nice stretch, the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes being wiped away by Katakuri's other hand that took a break from playing with your breasts, he feels his boxer get tighter when your legs shake around his massive thighs, for a second he feels glad that you aren't super tiny, it makes this feel like the first time both of you did it. It holds a special place in his heart, the lovely touches have never been that satisfying. And every time you take your time to show affection to him during it- he falls further and further in love with you. Even if he doesn't show it, or return them, he appreciates the gestures.

He knows it's time to start the actions of love and that you would certainly never reject it. It's the childish fear keeping his head and eyes locked away during them. Is he shy? Maybe. Does he wan't to return the gesture? Some would think that he doesn't.

The whimpering noises fill his head as he finally went in knuckle deep, he lifts his head from your cleavage and brings your face closer for a kiss, eating the deep moan that leaves your mouth when he pulls out his finger and pushes it back into the warmth. Watching with open eyes how your eyebrows point up in pleasure twisting into a lustful picture he'll love for the rest of his life. The fact that he is the only one who's allowed to see it makes his head dizzy with what other expressions he could steal from you.

He slowly fastens his pace, making and leaving your walls a mess before he gets back in and fixes it with his fingers, finding that spongey spot was easy, having it memorized Katakuri curves his fingers upwards and pistons into it, barely taking his fingers out.

One after another lustful noises (now louder than ever) escape before you can bite your tongue. At some point, drool started coming out of your mouth. Eyes closed you can feel how Katakuri milked your sweet spot brutally, making your cunt weep and sting oh so impossibly delightfully.

His hand and your thights are all wet now.

``Just aah little m-more...!``

You were so close. So incredibly close.

The moment Katakuri forced his hand to dig deeper in your cunt, to get past the line of his knuckles, and pushed upwards into your belly, forcing you to arch for him harder was the moment you were seeing stars.

Your closed eyes were going into your head and your wide mouth was slack as he held your hip with one hand and rubbed your clit faster than ever with the other one. Throwing you off the edge and finally loosening the knot that was tied at the start, slick now not-so-unclear dribs down your slit, he doesn't let you have a break, hand still accompanying you even after your orgasm.

You don't complain.

He slowly pushes your pelvis down with his forearm to meet his hips, not slowing his fast-paced rubbing. Your moans are now as free as they can be, but you limit yourself, wanting to hear little grunts and deep slow moans from Katakuri. You honestly think you could cum from his voice alone.

He's beautiful you think.

His eyes are closed, the furrowing thin eyebrows holding onto the sweat drops that are covering his face in a thin layer of gloss. His eyes are closed yet he seems so concentrated to make you cum again. The vein in his forehead is on full display for you. His naturally long eyelashes adorned his hooded eyes.

``You're Beau...tiful... Kata...``

The way he hides his mouth in your cleavage and not in your shoulder because of his big size, the way he is avoiding eye contact the moment you whispered those two words. The way your heart shattered, is like no other pain you've felt. Because this boy is so... So incredibly sad. You want to kiss the pain away, the worries to be crushed under your tall figure. You want to shield him because he deserved so much more than this family.

``Sooo pretty... C-can you look...at me?`` Exhausted, you reach out.

You don't pay attention to the second orgasm, too busy complimenting him about his beauty. You miss how he is rutting his clothed hips right on your naked ass. You don't miss how he turns his face to the opposite side from you, you don't miss the red-colored ears as you hug his neck. Biting his ears as you are getting closer yet again. You notice how he's gone quiet the moment you praised him. How he is listening to your moans right in his ear.

Suddenly he crashes his hips into you, stinging sensations of him losing grip on his strength lays mockingly on the prints he has branded on both sides of your hips. Even if you were drowning in an indescribable pleasure you didn't miss the way he threw his head back, he almost roars a held-back-moan as wetness spreads on your ass. You don't have to look down to know that both of you guys's cum is wetting the sheets below.

Did he cum by pleasuring you?

Shit... That's so... Hot.

You've known there were ten million ways to love somebody and this. This was one of them.

Katakuri relaxes on the pillow behind him, coming down from the high he tossed both of you in, your arms still around his neck. He opens his eyes looking down at your face, It's a mess really, with sweat and hair sticking on your forehead, swollen lips from the previous kiss (he spends extra seconds looking and feeling the breasts resting against his own skin) but it doesn't matter to him, all he sees are the fruits of his labor. He finally removes his hands from your hips, his gaze falling on a now-covered-by-your-nightgown spot.

Did he leave a mark?

A giggle escapes from your lips before you can stop it, earning a playful glare from his direction. What's so funny?

``Aha-I'm sorry, it's just. You're so red!`` He looks through you, unfocusing his eyes before turning his (now red from embarrassment) face away from you.

You rub your cheek against him, feeling the stitch scars that lead to his mouth hole.

``Awh! C'mon don't hide from me!``

``...You're getting brave (Y/N)...``

``I don't have to be brave to call my husband beautiful and handsome! Plus you're so cute right now!``

``I'm not cute...``

``Sure you're not.`` You're pushing it. You are sure as hell not sure where this confidence came from but you aren't complaining.

Putting your hand under his chin and turning his face toward you.

His eyes settle on your lips before you pull yourself up to make your (S/C) lips land on his monstrous mouth. Like a beast, he doesn't close his eyes, unlike you.

Yet again choosing to make up for the time he closed his eyes during the sex. Staring into your wet eyelashes.

His left arm drags you so impossibly closer to his chest, in a hug while his other hand puts a strand of (H/C) hair back over your ear. When you try to pull away he follows your lips down. Cherishing the strawberry residue that the lipstick left.

A couple of moments last of you two in a romantic kiss before it turns into playful pecks across each other faces. Katakuri was careful with his fangs, still getting used to having someone get as close as he was to the white knives. He calls them and judging from the sharpness you can't exactly call him wrong.

It lasts like that for more than necessary. The sweet touches turned harsh from him is a normal feeling for you, pain tolerance is one of your specialties. It's in your blood. There is nothing he could do from the outside that could hurt you. From the inside, it's a different story.

It's the reason why Charlotte Linlin chose you to be the bride for her second son.

``He's a monster in humans skin,`` She said.

``Better have that scarf around you at all times Katakuri, don't frighten the soon-to-be bride.``  She said at one of the tea parties she had invited your family over.

It was humiliating for him to hear those words, let alone in front of a different kingdom's royal family. Those words were enough for you to have an opinion set on Big Mom.

And Katakuri too. It was respect, you respected him for putting up with people like his mother daily. Another thing to add in the similarities chart besides the height.

``Don't you think your genetic powers would make lovely children for my boy here darling? Wouldn't that be wonderful?``

You pity the children you have to give birth to. Because you know it will happen.

Her piercing gaze and a change in tone was the only reason you nodded your head. It was how the entire party went actually, with you acting like one of Big Mom's homies. Bobbing your head to every compliment she would say about you and your powers.

Maybe that's what left a sour taste in Katakuri's mouth. Why he avoided you for a couple of months after the wedding, he probably saw you as a fragile bimbo who was swayed by fear.

You would hate to say it but the truth is always hard to swallow.

It was what you were before the wedding and after. No doubt about that. The fear of upsetting a bomb that was Big Mom terrified you to your core. You could take Katakuri ignoring and avoiding you but you could never say no to them, the strings she had on your family were too tightly tied around their necks to risk it. Not to mention the thousands of people's lives each of your family member represented.

``The more you fuck around the more you're gonna find out`` As your diplomat father would say in all kinds of situations. It's just that in this instance it wasn't comedic.

It was a psychological thriller. And fucking around you couldn't.

It was a sad start to your relationship with him, an unwanted marriage both of you were against at first, maybe in another lifetime one of you would have had a voice to protest it. But for now, you enjoy the soft embrace of his arms around your shoulders. A loud banging of his heart against your ear.

The chill of the aftermath leaving your body and replacing it with a sticky feeling between your crotch and the smell of sex that wasn't visible at the time.

``Well then, don't you want to clean yourself up?``

``No, I don't.``

``W-why not?`` Usually, Katakuri loves his cleanliness, organization, and tidiness. He showers after coming home, often he's the one running to the bathroom with towels in his hands before you can even process that you've arrived home.

``...I just don't want this to end.``

``... You...`` And you thought Katakuri had run out of his surprise factor. It makes you want to toss your feet in the air with tiny kicks, giggles and everything, it makes you blush.

Seriously? Why are you acting like a schoolgirl with a crush on her upperclassmen?! Have you lost all your marbles in you, woman?! Where is the royal blood?!

You can practically feel the inner, secondary or tiny voice in your head yelling at you.

``Y... You do...?`` Unbelievable.

A nod from him is all you need.

``Y'know, we don't... Have to end it...``

``What?`` God his obliviousness makes you want to strangle him.

``We can... Continue it instead...I-i mean... If you... Want..?`` You run your index finger over his chest, tracing the tattoo with half-lidded eyes and lips in a kissing position. If this isn't lustfull, you don't know what is.

``...``

``...``

``... We can?`` His shocked eyes leave you once again, speechless.

``Of... Of course, we can! If you have any energy left that is... What made you think that we couldn't..?``

Sex is something that rarely happens between you and him since both of you most of the time are sent out for missions separately, however, If your memories aren't lying to you there are a total of four times (not counting this one) that you guys have slept together. How many times did he want to cuddle after sex? 2 times? 3 times?

Such a bad wife you've been to him.

WHAT DON'T THINK LIKE THAT!

Your questions go unanswered. Instead, he gently turns you onto your back, his hands balancing himself like a pole, they shut off your field of vision 'till you can't look anywhere instead up.

And up you look.

You think it's a sight any fair lady would go feral over. So what if you've seen this many times before, it never fails to make you nervous, the confidence dripping off of him, even if shaky eyesight proves just how unconfident he is.

Swoon over him you do.

The feeling you got at the start of the night coming back ten times stronger and filling up your heart until it's back to the pace it was before, this time maybe even shaking sideways for dramatic or. romantic effect.

Your breathing quickens as his head follows his body that was leaning on his thighs which were usually heavy with accessories of any kind, mostly following his gothic style with minor changes. Now he stands on top of your legs with his free-of-any-weight ones, caging yours with his knees. He has a charm in the way he travels his hand down on your skin, giant fingers ghosting over the most sensitive of places. The size difference isn't much but staring at your squished thighs and comparing it to the thickness of his knees makes your breath hitch, gulping you look up towards his face.

Katakuri's sharp crimson eyes glimmer down at you.

He had never once failed to make you feel so unbelievably small under his gaze, you find this exact moment perfect to take off your sticky nightgown that's wet with substances from both of your bodies. It turns out to be a good hiding device for your face, too bad it only lasts a couple of seconds before Katakuri gets suspicious.

Once over your head, you toss the (F/C) fabric somewhere on the floor. Presenting your fully naked body to him.

You don't know when or how he got the boxer off, but he now stands in all of his glory. One would think he was flexing his muscles, and he was. With how heavily Katakuri was breathing, you would have run your fingers up his tattoo if he didn't grab your legs first, taking them out of his leg jail, it was an awkward struggle to pull them over his thighs but he managed to not stretch it out for too long.

It felt so right, you against him fitting like puzzle pieces, your warm legs clinging onto his hips that are the perfect fit for your long legs.

It's your fantasy coming to life and so is his.

Katakuri pulls your hips near his pelvis to get you in a comfortable position. His fingers play with your now relaxed entrance. His other hand strokes his sex in front of you.

Shyness is thrown out of the window.

``I'll... Be slow.`` He always says that. But he can not help the roughness come into play the moment you get used to having him inside you.

You shiver as his head presses against your folds, hiss as it's slowly getting past the cold surface and into the warmth your insides bring. You hear him let out a grunt of his own. The shakiness of his hands on your hips calms the arch your back has been put into.

Katakuri pushes in with slow motions.

He tries to distract you will little strokes up and down your arched back.

You try to not tense up, you really do, but his fingers weren't enough for you to have been ready for his cock. It has that extra length and thickness his fingers weren't capable of having.

The sting leaves you panting and watery-eyed.

Katakuri looks down at you, completely stopping his actions when the walls around his girth close his pathway to bliss.

He lets you relax and adjust to his length. Looking at your face when you wipe your not-yet-spilled tears. Feeling the walls grip and loosen around him makes him close his eyes, ignoring the sparks of pleasure that are signaling him to just rut into you. He turns his face back to you, opening his eyes.

Katakuri doesn't ask you to relax, he knows you're already doing that and he knows you'll signal him to move onward, there is no need to remind you of what's obvious. So he stays quiet, humming and touching you elsewhere across your body, a gentleness he didn't know was capable of, coming forward and dripping honey over your pain, sugarcoating it with his lips that are kissing up your neck.

You put your hands over his shoulders, feeling the pain go away only for it to be replaced by numbness. calming down you nod your head against his scarred cheek.

``You can go on... Now.`` And he does. Slowly and surely with the help of the previous round. He bottoms out.

Your walls surround him, while his grunts surround your head. Both of you stay still for a moment, him going back to kissing your shoulder while you hug his neck, lost in ecstasy.

The world is summed down to only him and you, even if you are running your eyes on the walls of the room, you're still breathing in his leftover cotton cologne, lingering on his skin for just a bit longer.

He starts moving, god he starts moving.

Rocking into you slower than ever, stickiness in your crotch area goes unnoticed. The feeling of him moving and dragging the pleasure away only for him to slide back in, adding the rubbing against your clit with his shortened pubes is soul-shattering in a pleasing way, making your brain mush and your mouth full of unholy sounds.

Sweat dribbles down the side of his face still buried in your shoulder. He is not a man who leaves hickeys. Even though It's impossible since he can't exactly hurt you, although he enjoys leaving marks with anything else, they don't last long, only a couple of minutes before it's back to the way your skin was. But he likes having your signatures on his back especially since that's the only place covered by his jacket in the public.

Even now you leave tiny trails with your nails on his back, not strong enough to break the skin but just enough for them to look like a part of his tattoo gone wild. it just sums up more blood on the southern side of his body, getting him harder than he was before.

It's too much for you when he starts setting a fast pace, his hips meeting yours midway through your grinding, it's too much you tell yourself.

The way he is holding his wide torso with his elbows right beside your shoulders since you didn't let go of his neck since you grabbed it. You feel silly, sticking yourself onto him this way but he doesn't have any complaints. Even if it's too much how you cum yet again with shaky legs and slick dripping down your crack and onto your arched back. Too much of him rocking into you. The mattress below you squicking and rocking with his thrusts. Not only the mattress, but his thrusts also drag your entire body with him, meeting him halfway through his pulling. Too much moaning coming from your side, it's too good.

Too good to tell him to stop.

You can't tell when you came again, the shakiness is blending in with his hips crashing into yours, and you can't tell what is your natural body's doing and what is Katakuri making your body do.

Him finding the sweet spot was the last thing you wanted him to do. You wanted him to find it.

But judging from the electricity hitting you full force again and again and again, making you cry out in all kinds of movements to push him away, you can't be sure.

Katakuri takes advantage of your vulnerability and pulls you away from him so you could relax on the light pink pillow almost swallowing you whole. Allowing him to thrust at a slightly different angle, an angle that also relieves tension from your back.

He straightens himself, now standing on his knees as he looks down at where your bodies are connected, he lands his hands on your hips setting an almost inhuman pace you aren't able to keep up with.

Not with your body and not with your mind.

He pays no attention to your face, you've had enough of that before. Instead, he watches as his hands slam your hips to him, and your poor clit swollen and sad, lies helplessly. Taking him with no problems.

``A-ah little more..`` he moans out. You want to cry at how much he wants to drag this out.

You can tell by the way his hips stutter before calming down completely, going back to the slow pace he did at the beginning.

It's too much.

``Katah-kuri, please!-`` Your voice cuts off by a scream that left your mouth when he slammed his hips back into you unexpectedly.

You can hear him chuckle lightly at your trembling figure lying under him.

It's like he is teasing you and himself.

Tears drip down your face as he repeats it a few times more, before grinding his pelvis when fully entering you cleanly. Your abused cunt beats against the few pubes it has stuck in the wetness surrounding it.

He doesn't let your wobbly legs slide down his thighs, holding them harshly and not letting your bottom parts get away from him.

You can feel it before it comes. The way a vein in his dick starts pulsing and throbbing. Filling your insides to the brim.

You don't look down, instead, you pay attention to Katakuri's Addams apple bobbing up and down in his thick throat accompanied by sweat drops, the way his heavy jaw comes up and down, and the way his eyes are closed and tensed as are his eyebrows. How the other shoulder free of any tattoo (one which you were previously gnawing on) is red colored. It's shiny with spit, tears, and sweat.

It's as far as you get before your heart finally calms down, forcing your eyes to close and your body to pass out, exhaustion finally catching up to you. The last thing you see is a blurry figure of Katakuri looking down at you.

His worried voice calls out to you.

And here you thought you could endure a monster's sweet voice.

[forbebeandjam]

STEP | BADA LEE X FEM READER | 21+

Summary: You see your first love for the first time in three years at your father's engagement party.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: VERY Explicit language and scenes. SMUT!!! 21+ Ex. Thigh riding, fingering, etc... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVICED

A/N: Hello •u• I am brand new to this app and I... I feel like a baby learning how to walk but l am also happy I got to find this app... again... after five years ANYWAY!! I bring this small piece of work I made hoping you'll like it!! I don’t know how often I’ll post on here but I’ll keep you updated ☺️ Also feel free to check out my Wattpad books!! And thank you @dearminaa for your help!! You are awesome!

P.S. apology for any mistakes or errors in grammar. English is not my first language!!

You sat in front of your vanity getting ready for the party. A party to congratulate your father's recent engagement.

You couldn't care less on who he decided to marry this time. It was probably the same as the last person he married. Young, stupid, and a gold digger that only wants his wealth but will end up failing and he will divorce her. You could never forgive him for cheating on your sick mother.

You blame him for her death because he decided to cheat while she was in the hospital and when you took her home for a while, you two found him in bed with some girl. You mother become depressed and died a few day after that

You tried to push aside those thoughts and get ready. You were still dependent on him after all and had plans to take the company away from him. As you fixed you blush, you did one more brush stroke and looked through your jewelry box.

There, you spotted a choker your first love had given you. You met her in high school. She was two years older than you but you love her like you've never loved anyone and she was always there to comfort you when your mother passed.

She was your first kiss, your first love, and your first girlfriend. The day she graduated she was offered a big scholarship in the United States and since she was poor she decided to take the opportunity. You become so mad at her that you pushed her away and broke up with her. A few days later you received a box with that necklace inside and you kept it to cherish the beautiful relationship you two had.

-

"You look gorgeous, honey," your father said as he hugged you. You didn't return the hug and just stood there.

"Be nice to her okay? She's had a rough life. She suffer a lot and I really like her. Please?" He said and you looked at him with a wry smile.

"How much do you think mom suffered when dying, knowing you were fucking the maids daughter?" You whispered in his ear.

"Stop that. I made a mistake and I regret it. It will haunt me for the rest of my life. Now try to be nice to her and drop the attitude," he whispered back making you roll your eyes and sit back down.

A few minutes went by and the so called fiancé was no where to be seen. You sighed resting your chin on you palm until you spotted a familiar figure. Tall, slim yet well built and the same hair from years ago. You bit your lip as a scream was about to escape your lips. You didn't know why she was there.

You followed her figure until she reached the table and with a big smile she greeted your father.

"Bada, my darling. Was there traffic on the way?" Your father said a she placed his hand around Bada's waist. She didn't answer and just nodded before turning to you.

"Oh! This is my daughter. Honey, greet your future step-," he said and you stood up. You couldn't form a sentence and were already about to bust in tears.

"Hi." You said in a quick manner before looking away. Her eyes were scanning each part of your body. The outfit you were wearing was driving her insane and she didn't know how to hold back from touching you... and she didn't.

She placed hand index finger and thumb under your chin and turned your head towards her. You were startled by her actions so you froze under her touch.

"She's beautiful," Bada said. Her eyes showed sincerity and warmth but you were too upset to see it. You took her hand and tossing it away you excuse yourself leaving the guests astonished by your actions.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'll go talk to her," your father said as he was about to get up but Bada held his arm.

"Let me. I think it's best if we have a conversation from woman to woman. I'll ease my way into her heart, okay? Don't worry,"

"Just how you eased your way into mine. You're just perfect," your father said and Bada gave him a soft smile before walking out the door you went through.

You wonder the halls of the mansion talking to yourself. You were beyond mad, confused, and heart broken. How could your first love be engaged to your father? Your heels clacked and suddenly you began to hear an additional set of footsteps. You looked back but there was no one so you assumed it was one of the servers hired for the party.

"After three years of not seeing or talking to me she shows up. And she's going to marry my father? How disgusting can he be? She swore she would come back to me and she's with him. She can go fuck herself for all I care. I hate her guts. She's so annoying yet so beautiful and... I want her so badly. Am I the sick one? Oh, for fuck sake! I'm talking to myself," you rambled on and on.

"How about you talk to me instead?" You jumped when you heard Bada's voice but immediately kept walking towards your room ignoring her presence next to you.

She grabbed your hand and pulled you into the room where she assumed was your room and she was right. She pushed you against the wall and you let out a squirm as she did so.

"Let me go, you psycho! What is wrong with you!?" You shouted and pushed her away from you. She stumbled a back and chuckled. You look at her with a scowl. How could she find this funny when your blood was boiling?

"You find this funny? You're an asshole," you pushed her to the side and sat on your vanity trying to ignore her so she would go away. Your mind was clouded with thoughts and emotions so you fumbled trying to get the necklace off of your neck.

Instead of walking out of the door, Bada walked up to you and moved your hair to the side. She carefully took the necklace off and you began to melt under her soft touch. She put it in your hand and you just placed it on the vanity not caring where it landed.

"Why... why are you marrying him? My dad. You said you would come back and... I waited. I waited for three years and when I finally see you again you are engaged to... that? Why the fuck!?" You shouted not holding back anymore. Your tears began to fall and she only softened her gaze.

She walked to you slowly and took you hand while you wiped your tears away.

"I'm not going to marry him. I came here for you, my love," she said as she cupped your face.

"Don't. Don't do this Bada. If you're just going to break my heart and walk away from me again, just leave and go with my father," you said looking away but she pulled you into an embrace.

"Baby, look at me. I would never leave you again. Never again. I'll do everything I can to be next to you always..." he hand traveled from your cheek to your exposed shoulder. You shivered at her touch and then she planted a kiss on your shoulder making you bite your lip to prevent any noises from escaping your mouth.

"You have no idea how much I longed to touch you. To kiss you and make you mine. That is all I could think about. You wouldn't leave my mind for one second all I could think about was for a way to come back to you," she whispered into your ear as she walked. You took small step back until your legs hit the bed.

Her hands were on your arms and her gentle touch made it hard for you to hold back. You used your hand to create some space between you and her. You couldn't deny that you wanted her to touch you. You wanted her to make you her but you were sacred. Not if your dad. Never if your dad. He was a weak man after all, but she was engaged to him.

"Please promise me that you won't leave. That after this, you won't walk away from me. I will run away with you if we need to but please don't continue this if you can't promise me that," you said as you closed your eyes.

She cupped your face and you opened your eyes at the sudden skin contact.

"I promise with my life. I will never even again leave, my love. I will stay by your side and we can do whatever you want. We can stay or run away and I will be there because I love you and I should've never left but I had to think of my mother. Please understand. I'm so sorry," a tear escaped her eyes as she was practically begging for you to forgive her and understand her reasoning and you did.

You nodded and wiped her tears before kissing her lips. You kissed her hungrily and she responded with the same intensity. The kiss become for sloppy and wet as snacking sounds began to fill the room. You thanked your father for the first time for making the rooms sound proof.

"Tell me you want it. Tell me how you want it and how badly you want it. Tell me what you want," Bada said as she left love bites in your neck.

"I want you. I want all of you. I want you to touch me everywhere. I want you to fuck me, please," you said and let out a loud moan as she dragged her tongue across your collarbone.

"I didn't know you were so needy, my love. But you're such a good girl using your nice words for me," Bada said as she pushed you lightly on the bed. Your legs were slightly parted and she took the opportunity to crawl on top of you placing her knee in between your legs and slight pushing into your folds.

You moaned at the contact and moved your hips searching for more friction but her hands immediately went to your hips to halt your movements.

"Wait a minute, baby. I want to be the one to please you," she said sending you over the edge. You bit your lip and groaned in desperation . You need her touch. You wanted her so badly and when you opened and saw her remover her bra you almost came untouched letting out whispers and moans

"Calm down, baby. I'm all yours and I'm not going anywhere," she said as she lowered herself on you. She admired how your legas partner with no shorts and your panties were soaked. She pulled them down and kissed right above your sensitive bud making you part your legs even more. You wanted her and you couldn't handle any more emptiness.

"Bada, please..." you whispered.

"Yes, my love. Anything for you,"she immediately attacked you clit with her tongue and used her hand to pull you dress down revealing your tender breast and she didn't hesitate to begins massaging it as her tongue flicked on your bud in all the right ways that were making you let out moan after moan.

Your nipples were perky and sensitive and she let go of them to instead one finger into you. You were still a virgin so you felt a bit of pain as you felt her go in a cried out loud. She looked up at you. You were the most beautiful thing. Your skin glistened as small beads of sweat formed on your forehead. Your face was flushed in a a bright pink color and she moved up to kiss you tenderly still inside of you.

"It's okay. I'll be gentle. See?" She said as she began to slowly move her finger allowing you to adjust to the feeling. She placed soft kisses on your cheeks, forehead, lips, and chest helping you ease out the pain.

You slowly began to moan in please as you felt the pain dissipate and she sped up a little. You lips were slightly parted and your hand made it way to her breast. The soft skin was so pleasant you wanted to taste it. Using you elbows, you pushed yourself up and put her nipple in you mouth sucking and lightly tugging with your teeth. She began to let out soft and deep moans.

"That feels so good, my love. I'm going to add another finger okay, lay down for me and hold my hand," she intertwined your hands together.

She added a second finger and you felt like you were levitating as her warm tongue assaulted your clit. You felt her curl her fingers inside of you and you clenched around her as you felt an odd sensation at the pit of your stomach.

"Bada... Bada, fuck~ please. Let me cum please!" You begged as you back lifted from the mattress. She slowed down her pace making you  take a a hold of her hair and tugging.

"That wasn't nice, my love," she completely pulled out leaving you feeling empty and a tear rolled down your cheek.

"I'm sorry. I just need you. Please~" you whined softly as your eyes begged for release.

"Please what?" She asked.

"Please, baby. Please, Bada," you said and she smiled as she thrusted into you with great force. You yelled at the unexpected motion but you began to moan as her tongue started to work on your bud once again but this time she was slight biting down making you shout her name in pleasure. A pleasure you had never experienced before and when you least expected you released on her feeling a pulsating feeling as she licked you clean and then her fingers.

"You taste so good, my love. All of these years of waiting finally paid off. Now helped me," she said. You were still trying to come back to your senses as everything was blurry and you could only see how she was undressing herself. Your dress was now bunched on your waist.

She hovered above you and you felt a wet warmth on your thigh. When your vision was finally adjusted, you saw her beautiful figure on top of you. Her fringe stuck to her forehead as she was riding your thigh trying to reach her high.

Your hands traveled down to her waist as you helped her ride you. You used one of your hands to rub on your clit once more and she watched you actions letting out shaky breaths and moans biting her lip.

"You look beautiful riding me like that, baby. Keep going. Cum for me. Cum in me please," you said making her roll her eyes back as her hands rested on your breast for support and with a loud moan she came on your thigh. You sided your fingers to collect her juices and taste her the way she did with you.

"Fuck, that was so good,"you said and she collapsed on top of you. The two of you lay there for a few minutes as you were still throbbing with pleasure and catching your breath.

After a few minutes, Bada fixed your position removing the dress you had on and you both cuddled your bare bodies under the covers.

"Thank you," you said. Bada pulled you closer to her.

"For what, my love?" She asked as she planted multiple kisses on your shoulder.

"For this. For coming back and for loving me," you replied as you turned your body to face her and play with a stand of her hair. You admired her body. Beautiful as always. Then when you saw a ring on her finger, it hit you. She was way out to marry your dad and you just let her fuck you... You felt like a monster. You were no different than your dad.

"Bada, I think this was a mistake. You're marrying my father and this doesn't make me any better than him," you said on the verge of tears but she quickly embraced you.

"How about we go down and I explain everything to you. Trust me, okay? Nothing is what it seems," she helped you stand up and you both got dressed. You fixed you hair into a high ponytail and fixed your makeup as well when you  noticed how messy your face looked.

Bada also fixed herself and held you hand. You made your way down the stairs and into the big hall where majority of the guests had already gone home. That's when you saw you father kissing a woman around his age. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"Mom!" Bada shouted and the woman turned to you with a bright smile.

"This is, Y/N. The girl I always told you about," Bada said and the lady pulled you into a hug.

"Wow! You're even prettier in person. I'm so glad I get to finally meet you. Bada and your father have talked wonders about you and do not feel pressured to call me mom or step mom. You can just call me Haneul," the woman said and you started to put the pieces together.

"I'll go to your father now. He seems to need me but let's all go on a ladies fun day one of these days. Bye girls. Y/N, honey... cover your neck," she said and waved before walking off.

Your face tired a bright shade of pink making Bada laugh. Bada pulled you out to the balcony where there was no one around before anyone could see the marks she left on your neck.

"You see? I'm not marrying your father. My mom is. When I saw her get engaged and I saw your father I didn't hesitate one second to leave it all behind and come here with you," she said and you internally smacked your face at how dumb and clueless you had been.

"I'm sorry, Bada. I should've listened and now I just feel stupid," you said as you lowered your head. She used her index finger and thumb to raise your chin and kiss your lips with tenderness and love.

"It's okay. I'm here and I'm here to stay. I love you so much," she said and connect your forged with hers.

"I guess now we are even," you said making her chuckle. She hugged you from behind placing her chin on your shoulder and you two watched the sunset with sweet kisses and soft laughs.

[117luv]

THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 7

synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.

genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication

taglist: CLOSED!

a/n: hi my loves! starting next week, ill be more consistent w/ the updates since school is FINALLY over so more time and also im sorry if it took so long to release this chap but besides that i hope you enjoy this and love ya !!

masterlist | previous | next

The boys have many questions for their parents. Such as why they are apart, how come they both don't mention they had a twin who belongs to another parent, or how their parents could have just worked it out so all of this mess wouldn't have happened in the first place. But they know their parents don't like this arrangement, and it shows how much the two of them profusely apologize to them for all of this mess. Yn and Heeseung know that this arrangement shouldn't have existed if they weren't stupid years ago, but all they can do is make up to the twins for their mistake and loss of time. Jungwon spoke up first and asked "Mom, I know you and dad had a rough past hence why this arrangement even existed in the first place but were you even planning to tell me that I had a twin all along if I didn't met Ni-ki at camp?" and she replied "I been thinking to tell you about him and your dad but I didn't know what will I do if you asked about their whereabouts when I don't even have your dad's contact number, let alone their address. Despite all that, I was ready to tell you but I just kept pushing it to avoid confrontation. This also had to do with me and your dad arrangement, is where we will claim one twin and never talk nor find each other whereabouts hence you never knew about your twin." Her answer cleared up a question he had been dreading to ask her after all the events unfold. Yn asked the boys why the two of them weren't shocked to learn about them being twins, and they explained to them that the reason why they weren't surprised was because they had already put the pieces together back at camp, from them being allergic to peanuts to them having the other half of a picture of their parents from years ago. As the four of them kept talking until the boys were visibly tired, she asked them to get ready for bed. It was getting late, and Ni-ki asked Heeseung if he could just stay overnight, which you both agreed to and helped him get settled in Jungwon''s room. Once the twins were settled down, he quietly got out of the house as she assisted him to his car. He called for her name and rolled down his windows. "Did you forget something inside? I can get it for you, she said as he looked at her. "No, my things are all here. Just come closer to me, he said, which she did, and he quickly pecked her forehead and rolled his windows up as he quickly left her place. Leaving her speechless in what just happened moments ago and Heeseung blushing as he drove back home as he remembered what he did. As this all unfolded, the twins were witnessing it from their window and thought of a plan to make their parents get back together.

taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @jhopesucker @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @useraerin @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @enhaz1

[kennytheworkingclasshero]

For how much Shelley is viewed as being a horrible big sister to Stan (despite the fact she’s just a teenager herself) she does truly care for him and Stan turns to her in his moment of need. This can be seen in the episode Pre-School, where despite the fact that Stan is constantly being picked on by Shelley he knows that she is a safe place for him to go to when he can’t turn to his parents or his friends (because they’re also in trouble along with him). Here, we see Stan tearfully confess that “Somebody is going to kill me, and I can't go to Mom or Dad for help, so, you're kind of the only person I have... left.” And Shelley, in typical older sibling fashion, reassures him that “No Juvenile Hall turd is going to kill you. That's my job.” And any sibling can tell you that that’s not the reason she’s protecting him, so she can be the one that hurts him instead. That’s just a front siblings put on, especially when they’re young and don’t realise that loving and taking care of your people is actually cool. She’s protecting him and his friends because no matter what she says or how she acts, she genuinely loves him. Not only is she protecting him, but she is also trying to instil good qualities in Stan and his friends by telling them to “admit to Ms. Claridge what you did!” because “You can't run from your past, turds. Apologize and make amends. Then I'll protect you from this Trent turd.” She’s not asking for something for herself and she’s not insisting that they confess in order to be malicious to Stan and his friends, she’s doing it because she wants him to be a better person. She knows her brother and she knows he didn’t do this on purpose, but she wants him to be able to own up to his mistakes and apologise in order to move on with his life and learn the skill of taking accountability.

[cufff-it]

À DEUX PAS

PART I : AMIS D’ENFANCE

pairing: kylian mbappe x reader

summary: when Y/N moves to Bondy and meets her new neighbor Kylian, they become fast friends. But as they grow up side by side, their bond faces new challenges that could change everything.

A/N: hello! I wrote my first fanfic about Kylian. English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. This story will build up slowly, starting from their childhood to adulthood, so it’s a slow burn. I’ve completed the first chapter to see if you all enjoy my writing or if there’s anything I can improve. Enjoy! Please don’t steal my work.

Bondy, September 2007.

The school year has just begun, and the streets are alive with excitement. Everywhere, kids walk in groups, laughing and chattering as they make their way to the first day of class. For some, it’s a reunion with familiar faces; for others, like Y/N, it’s the beginning of something entirely new.

Y/N has recently moved to Bondy with her family, settling into a modest apartment in a large building. She barely knows anyone yet, and the thought of starting in a new school fills her with a mix of excitement and nerves. She clutches her backpack a little tighter as she stands at the entrance of the classroom, scanning the room for an empty seat.

That’s when she notices a boy a few rows away, talking animatedly with a couple of other kids. He has a lively, easy-going energy about him, a broad smile, and curly hair. She’s seen him before, just a few days ago, running through the corridors of her building with a football ball. She’d learned his name in passing from her mom: Kylian.

Her teacher gently nudges her inside, and Y/N quickly spots an empty desk near the middle. She slips into her seat, trying not to attract too much attention, but it’s hard not to notice when someone new arrives. Kylian glances her way, pausing mid-laugh, and gives her a friendly nod.

“Hey, you’re the new girl, right?” he asks during a break between classes. “You just moved into my building?”

Y/N nods, surprised he recognized her. “Yeah… fourth floor. We just moved in a week ago.”

“Cool! I’m on the fifth,” he says with an easy grin. “So you’re new to Bondy, huh?”

“Yeah… everything’s still a little confusing,” she admits, giving a small smile. “It’s all so different from where I lived before.”

Kylian nods as if he understands exactly what she means. “Well, don’t worry. You’ll get used to it!”

They exchange a quick smile, and Y/N starts to feel a bit more at ease. He has an energy that makes everything feel lighter, and as the day goes on, she finds herself quietly watching how easily he moves through the classroom, how he knows everyone, and how they all seem drawn to him. Even the teacher seems amused by his confidence, letting him speak out without scolding him too much.

When school lets out, Y/N gathers her things, ready to head home. As she steps out of the classroom, she feels a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she finds Kylian there, looking at her with that same friendly grin.

“Want to walk home together?” he asks.

She hesitates but nods. They walk through the bustling streets, falling into a comfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by Kylian’s cheerful comments about the neighborhood. He points out a bakery on the corner. “Best chocolate croissants in the whole world,” he declares confidently.

Y/N laughs, feeling herself relax a bit more. “The whole world? That’s a big claim.”

He grins, looking at her with a glimmer in his eyes. “You’ll see. We’ll go one day. Promise.”

As the weeks pass, they continue to cross paths, both at school and in their building. Y/N realizes that Kylian has an endless supply of energy. He’s constantly out playing soccer, kicking a ball around with friends, practicing tricks in the courtyard below their building. Sometimes she catches glimpses of him on her way back from school, and he always stops to wave or shout a friendly “Hi, neighbor!”

One afternoon, they run into each other at the building’s entrance. Y/N is carrying a bag of groceries, struggling with the weight, when she hears someone calling her name.

“Need a hand?” Kylian offers, already reaching to take the bag from her. He hoists it over his shoulder with ease, grinning. “Where’d you go? You’ve been hiding.”

She laughs, a little embarrassed. “I’ve just been busy. Trying to catch up on schoolwork and all that.”

Kylian rolls his eyes in mock disbelief. “Schoolwork? That can wait. Come on, everyone’s playing outside. You should come hang out!”

Y/N hesitates, but his enthusiasm is infectious, and she finds herself agreeing. They join a small group of kids in the courtyard, where Kylian is immediately at ease, joking and laughing with everyone, including her. They don’t push her to join the football game, but she sits nearby, watching, listening to the way he interacts so easily with others, sensing the way he somehow makes everyone around him feel included.

After the game, he jogs over to her, sitting down with a sigh. He hands her a bottle of water and nudges her shoulder playfully. “You know, you’re going to have to join us one day. Can’t keep sitting on the sidelines.”

She laughs. “We’ll see. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“Impossible,” he replies with a smirk. Then he adds, “If you get nervous, you can just focus on me. I’ll be there.” The words are so genuine that Y/N feels her cheeks warm, and she laughs softly, hoping he doesn’t notice.

Over time, their friendship grows deeper. They share small moments here and there—running into each other on the stairs, chatting between classes, even studying together when Kylian is struggling with homework.

One evening, as they sit on the steps outside their building, Kylian turns to her with a thoughtful look.

“Hey, Y/N… what do you want to do when you grow up?” he asks suddenly.

She’s caught off guard by the question but answers honestly. “I don’t know… maybe travel. See the world. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live somewhere different.”

He nods, seeming to consider her answer. “That sounds amazing. I’m going to play football everywhere. Like, really. All over the world.”

Y/N smiles, impressed by his confidence. “You really think you can do that?”

Kylian shrugs, but his expression is resolute. “I know I can. You’ll see.”

He reaches over and lightly taps her pinky with his own. “We’ll go see the world. Promise.”

She links her pinky with his, surprised by how natural it feels. They don’t say anything after that, sitting quietly as the city lights flicker on. And in that moment, Y/N realizes that, even though she barely knows what the future holds, she’s somehow certain that he’ll be a part of it.

[ellswritings]

Heart Monitor 1x06

Episode 7

To Fallon’s surprise, after her accident and spending pretty much all night in the hospital, when she returned home, Derek was still there. Pretty engrossed in his book to her delight. He was pretty concerned about her leg, which happened to be a clean break. He was furious when he found out what happened, but so was Stiles. It was interesting hearing them say pretty much the exact same thing without the other knowing. They both unknowingly agreed that Scott needs to step away from Allison to regain focus.

Stiles’ idea of getting Scott to understand his mistakes is by giving him the silent treatment. So sitting in their shared class, Fallon stares blankly at the white board, periodically writing down notes as Scott desperately tries to get them to talk to him. After a while she did start to feel bad. He has apologized incessantly since the accident and while Fallon did originally want to hit him with a car of her own, she slowly began to miss talking to him.

“Seriously?” Scott sighs upsetly. “You guys seriously are still not talking to me?” No response. “Fallon, you know how sorry I am. I mean, at least it was a clean break, right? My mom says they have a better chance at healing without complications.”

The girl looks down at the white cast covering her leg. He’s right, clean breaks do have a better chance at healing fully. She’s devastated though that she’ll have to sit out at lacrosse practice for the next couple of weeks, which is actually one of the main reasons she wanted to wring Scott’s neck. But knowing Coach, he’ll kill Scott before she does.

She reaches into her backpack, pulling out a small bottle of painkillers. She pops one into her mouth, chasing it with a sip of water. She didn’t do it as a way to make Scott feel bad, but seeing him hang his head in shame out of the corner of her eye did make her feel slightly vindicated.

“You know I feel really bad about it, right?” He tries once again. Fallon can hear the sadness in his voice. She glances at Stiles, seeing if he’s ready to give in yet. Freckles shakes his head, commanding her with his eyes to stand her ground. She huffs, dropping her head into her hand with a frown. Scott leans forward even further, tapping Fallon on the shoulder. “Okay. What if I told you that I'm trying to figure this whole thing out, and... that I went to Derek for help?”

Fallon’s head snaps towards Stiles faster than it ever has before. She makes a wild gesture with her hands, showing how desperately she wants to give her opinion on the matter. Stiles tries to stay strong, but the pleading look in her eyes causes him to groan. He exhales loudly out of his nose, “If I was talking to you, I'd say that you're an idiot for trusting im. But, obviously, I'm not talking to you…”

Fallon’s lip quirks up in a small smile. She lazily writes in her notebook, pretending not to care. “And if I was talking to you, I’d say that I’m proud of you for stepping up and getting help from someone who has more experience with this than you.” Stiles glares at her for complimenting him and she just shrugs. “It’s like the devil and angel on the shoulder thing,” she explains. “I’m the nice one.”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles narrows his eyes, “And I’ve kissed Taylor Swift.”

Scott smiles brightly as things seem to return to normal between the three for a moment. Her and Stiles make eye contact, faces going stoic for a split second. They wordlessly communicate, making Scott wonder how they learned to read each other’s facial expressions so well. Both of them turn around at the same time.

“What did Derek say?”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Walking out of their class together, Scott sticks to Fallon’s side which isn’t heavily unusual, but she’s used to him taking up Stiles’ side, not hers. Most of the time when they walk together, Stiles is in the middle while Fallon takes up his left and Scott his right. But now she’s in the middle. She doesn’t mind it, it’s clearly him feeling guilty over what happened. He even took her backpack from her before she could even grab her crutches. If this is the new treatment he’s giving her, she’s definitely not going to complain.

“Wh--? He wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry?” Stiles asks him incredulously after hearing what Derek said to Scott.

“Yeah…”

“All right, well, correct me if I'm wrong, but every time you do that, you try to kill someone, and that someone is usually us.” He gestures between Fallon and himself.

Scott sighs, “I know. That’s what he means when he says he doesn’t know if he can teach me. I have to be able to control it,” he explains.

Fallon tilts her head in thought, “I mean, it’s not impossible…” she admits. “I know it feels difficult right now, but Derek has control doesn’t he?” She points out with a shrug. “He obviously learned how to do it over time. I don’t think he came out knowing how to be a werewolf. While I do believe he came out with a leather jacket and angry cat face, I don’t think he came out being an expert on control.”

“How do you think he’s going to teach you?” Stiles asks, nodding along with Fallon’s statement.

“I don’t know,” Scott adjusts his backpack strap with an unsure expression. “I don’t think he does either…”

Stiles rolls his eyes at his friend's lack of knowledge, “Okay. When are you seeing him again?”

“He told me not to talk about it,” Scott answers. “Just act normal and get through the day.”

Fallon shoots him a pointed look, “When?” She asks, knowing there has to be a more specific time than that.

Scott looks at her, huffing as he knows he can’t keep anything from her after letting her get run over. “He’s picking me up at the animal clinic after work.”

Stiles nods, “After work. All right. Well, that gives us to the end of the school day then.”

Scott furrows his brows, “To do what?”

Stiles and Fallon make eye contact, smiling in unison, “To teach you ourselves.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

When lunch rolled around, Fallon was summoned by Lydia and Allison, the two girls wanting to see how she was doing after all that happened. Unfortunately, the conversation didn’t last long as Stiles strode by, grabbing her backpack and lunch tray and taking it over to their usual table. She watched after him, jaw agape while the other two girls just looked at her confused. He just stared at her, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for her to hobble over to him. Seeing as he wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, she bid her two friends goodbye before venturing over to him.

That brings them to the present moment, her smacking the back of his head for his rude behavior. “Y’know you could’ve just asked me to sit with you like a normal person,” she scolds, plopping down in her seat.

Stiles takes her crutches, putting them on his other side so they’re not in her way. “If I would’ve done that you would’ve just put your finger up and told me to wait,” he points out. “At least this way, you couldn’t tell me no,” he smiles innocently.

Fallon narrows her eyes but can’t prevent the grin that spreads across her face. She shoves him playfully, “Don’t look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“You’re not mad at me,” he rolls his eyes, popping a french fry from her plate into his mouth. “You can’t be mad at me. You love me too much. Your life would be so boring without me in it.”

“What you call boring most people would consider peaceful,” she shoots back sarcastically.

Stiles reaches over, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into him as he messes up her hair. The two of them roughhouse for a moment before Scott not-so-subtly slides into the seat across from them, clearly still avoiding Allison.

Fallon tilts her head, still stuck in Stiles’ lap. They stare at him as he hides his face behind one of his textbooks. The girl lifts an eyebrow, “I think using the book as a shield is making your intentions more obvious,” she says. “Besides, she’s not even looking over here. She seems pretty engrossed in whatever that book is about.”

Scott peeks over the pages, noticing that his somewhat girlfriend isn’t looking in his direction. He exhales, lowering the book but not straightening his posture to full height. “So, did you guys come up with a plan yet?”

Stiles nods, silently checking with Fallon. “We think so.”

He stares at them hopefully, “Does that mean you guys don’t hate me now?”

“No,” Fallon takes a spoonful of yogurt.

“No,” Stiles scoffs in agreement. “But your crap has infiltrated Fallon and I’s life, so now we have to do something about it,” he answers sassily. “Plus, I’m definitely a better Yoda than Derek.”

“I choose to take on a more Haymitch Abernathy role in this situation,” Fallon shrugs. “Drunkenly making sure my pseudo children don’t kill themselves,” she points at the two boys.

“Okay,” Scott nods with a small smile. “Yeah, you guys can teach me.”

“Yeah, I’ll be your Yoda,” Stiles smiles.

“Yeah, you be my Yoda.”

“Your Yoda I will be,” Stiles says in a gruff voice, trying his best to mock the character from the films. Fallon chuckles, shaking her head at how horrible it was. “I said it backwards,” Stiles laughs.

“Yeah, I-I know,” Scott nods slowly, showing how he still has never watched the movies, despite how many times Stiles has begged.

“All right, you know what?” Stiles gets up angrily, grabbing Fallon’s bag and crutches before helping her up. “I definitely still hate you. Uh-huh. Oh, yeah.”

He storms off, Fallon huffing as she tries to keep pace. She shoots Scott an apologetic glance, but by the way Allison is approaching him, Stiles having a fit about Star Wars is the least of the werewolf’s worries.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon’s theatre class had ended up being rather active for the girl’s current predicament. They were introducing new stretches and class bonding exercises to get everyone ready for the Beauty and the Beast production. She was upset that she couldn’t participate, but her teacher, Ms. Potter was more than understanding. She gave Fallon the script early, granting her a free period to read over it since she can’t do any of the activities in class.

So now she sits with a highlighter dangling from her mouth on the lacrosse field, her legs sprawled out. Her eyes gaze over the pages, writing small notes in her notebook about each character and what makes them tick. She briefly glances up as Stiles throws the equipment for Scott on the floor, looking at her with curiosity.

“What are you reading?” He asks, tossing his lacrosse bag at her to hold.

She catches it with ease, setting it down beside her. “The script for the play.”

“Oh,” he comments, not knowing it was that time already. “When are auditions?”

“Next week,” she sighs, rubbing her face. “I don’t think I’m gonna audition though. There’s just too much going on.”

Stiles looks at her incredulously, “What?” He shakes his head. “No, absolutely not. You have to audition.”

“Stiles–”

“Fall, you are so good at singing,” he huffs. “You can’t just not audition. That would be like a crime to everyone’s ear holes.”

She playfully glares at him, “While I appreciate the compliment, there will be other shows for me to do. Right now, my priority is here with you and Scott.” She leans back on her arms, “Plus, I’m kind of stretched thin as it is with lacrosse and school,” she opens up honestly. “My counselor is already talking about enrolling me in a college English course next semester, so I just want to focus on getting through high school… and not getting ripped apart by a werewolf in the process.”

He looks at her with sympathy, but ultimately understands where she’s coming from. “All right. Well, you know that Scott and I would go see every show if you did decide to do it.”

“I know,” she smiles appreciatively.

At that moment, Scott comes running out of the school and over to his two friends. He stops in front of them, “Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “It took me a minute to convince Mr. Smith to give me a free period,” he sets his backpack on the floor next to Fallon as well.

“It’s fine,” Stiles waves off hurriedly, grabbing something and handing it to Scott. “Okay. Now, put this on,” he commands.

Scott takes it, inspecting it with a confused look, “Isn’t this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?” He queries, unsure of how it would benefit them.

“Yeah,” Stiles nods. “I borrowed it.”

“Stole it,” Fallon corrects nonchalantly, still observing the script.

Stiles speaks defensively, “Temporarily misappropriated,” he counters before turning his attention back to Scott. “Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day.”

Fallon shakes her head as Stiles pulls out a cellphone that definitely doesn’t belong to him. Scott’s jaw goes slack, “Isn’t that Coach’s phone?” He asks warily.

Stiles nods slowly, “That… I stole.”

“Why?” Scott looks at his friend, not even knowing where to start on labeling his issues.

“Because Master Yoda over here doesn’t understand the concept of rules,” Fallon smirks as Stiles looks more than offended. “Or laws, or personal boundaries. A side effect of your father being the sheriff.”

“Okay, I don’t want to hear it,” he puts his hand up in her direction. “Last time I checked, that father got you out of a speeding ticket last week when you were practically flying through a residential area like Wolverine in X-Men Origins.”

“That was a very specific comparison,” Fallon snickers.

“Anyway…” he sends Fallon a look that says to stop interrupting unless she plans on being helpful. He points to the monitor on Scott’s wrist, “All right, well, your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right? When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry... Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate,” he carefully explains the theory him and Fallon had been talking about.

“Like the Incredible Hulk?”

Fallon shrugs, “Kind of like the Incredible Hulk, yeah.” She figures letting him think he’s a superhero will get him to try harder. It’s like Stiles and his unnatural fixation with becoming Spiderman. She lets him believe it could happen. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if it did. He definitely wouldn’t look half bad in the suit.

Scott smiles widely, “No, I’m like the Incredible Hulk!”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Would you shut up and put the strap on?”

The spastic boy tosses Fallon the phone, assigning her to keep track of his heart rate. The two boys travel out to the center of the field, Stiles duct taping Scott’s arms behind his back. Freckles smiles mischievously at Fallon from behind Scott. She raises an amused eyebrow, knowing this is Stiles getting revenge for the brunette girl.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my free period!” Scott complains as Stiles walks a few feet away, bending down to pick up his own lacrosse stick.

He blatantly ignores Scott’s words, “All right. You ready?” He asks, scooping a ball into his net.

“No.”

“Remember– don’t get angry,” Stiles warns him, cocking his arm back to launch the ball.

Scott shifts on his feet, eyeing Stiles unsurely. “I’m starting to think this was a really bad idea,” he voices.

Without another words, Stiles chucks the ball at Scott’s body, pelting him roughly. Fallon winces from her spot besides Stiles, glancing at the heart rate monitor. Still steady for now, only moving up one point. Stiles readies another ball, throwing it as hard as he can, nailing Scott in the chest.

“Oh, man!” The boy cries out. “Okay, that one kind of hurt.”

Fallon watches as a small satisfied smile makes its way onto Stiles’ face. He wiggles his eyebrows at her, offering his stick, “Wanna give it a go? It’s pretty therapeutic actually.”

“No!” Scott shouts with wide eyes. “Do not give her that stick.”

Stiles shushes him like a child, “Quiet. Remember, you’re supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, all right? About staying calm.” He reminds before smirking as he helps Fallon to her feet. He hands her the stick, looking Scott directly in the eye. He pats her back, helping her stay upright. “Give it a go.”

Scott starts muttering encouraging words to himself under his breath as Fallon adjusts her grip on the stick. She smoothly scoops up a ball, licking her bottom lip. She lifts the stick, throwing it roughly at her best friend. The ball collides harshly with his gut, making him double over in pain. It sounds like the wind has been knocked out of him.

“AHHH! Son of a bitch!”

“Nice!” Stiles chuckles, high fiving her. Scott shoots them an incredulous look which makes Stiles clear his throat awkwardly. He dismisses Scott, “Heart rate,” he points stiffly.

“What do you think I’m doing?!” Scott screams at them with a heavily clenched jaw.

Fallon goes to sit back down, noticing his number climbing higher with every passing second. She shares a warning glance with Stiles before looking at Scott again. “Don't get angry.”

“I’m not getting angry!” He responds frustratedly.

Stiles continues his assault on Scott as Fallon carefully monitors Coach’s phone. She begins to get nervous as she watches the numbers climb higher and higher. 140. 141. 142. That’s when Stiles knocks him in the jaw, making Scott almost fall to the ground in pain. The boy tries to regain his footing, “Stop. Just wait– Wait, just hold on–” he groans, doubling over once again, but this time he actually collapses to the floor.

157. 158. 159. 160.

“Stiles!” Fallon gets his attention, a cautionary gaze in her eyes as she flashes him the phone. Scott continues groaning as Stiles places his stick on the floor. Suddenly the duct tape around his wrist flies off in different directions. Stiles and Fallon watch him with wide eyes. He’s shifting. The heart monitor starts beeping rapidly, his heart rate reaching high numbers that are nowhere near healthy for a normal person.

“Scott?” Stiles calls out warily, trying to find a way to calm him down.

His breathing gets heavier and deeper after a moment as he clenches and unclenches his fists. Fallon glances back at the phone to see the numbers slowly decreasing and returning to normal. She and Stiles let out a breath they didn’t even know they were holding.

“That could’ve gone in a seriously horrific direction,” she mumbles to him.

Stiles nods slowly, helping Fallon to her feet. The two of them travel over to the boy who is still folded over on the ground. “Scott, you started to change…” Stiles says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Scott breathes heavily as his pulse is still returning to normal, “From anger,” he adds. “But it was more than just that– it was like, the angrier I got, the stronger I felt.”

“So Derek is right,” Fallon says thoughtfully. “It is anger that elicits a reaction.”

Scott shakes his head defeatedly, “I can’t be around Allison,” he says glumly.

“Just because she makes you happy?” Stiles questions.

“No…” he looks up at them sadly. “Because she makes me weak.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon walks alongside Stiles as they walk into Coach’s economics class. The two of them snicker at a joke Fallon told him on the way in, earning a confused glance from their teacher. For how funny that man is, he sure doesn’t seem to be a big fan of laughter. The two teens just giggle again at his look of confusion before finishing their journey to the middle of the class. Stiles sets Fallon’s stuff down in the chair next to Scott’s, the two boys not having let her carry anything of her own all day. It was endearing and annoying at the same time, but she let them do it.

Stiles goes to sit behind Fallon, but a quick panicked look from Scott gets his attention. “Stiles. Sit behind me!” He whisper yells.

Fallon looks up and sees Allison beelining it for the exact same seat. Stiles scrambles to the side, trying to get all of his belongings and himself into the chair before she can. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Allison smoothly slides into the seat, smiling at Scott as she completely ignores Stiles. Scott turns in his chair, a frown plastered on his face as his plan to avoid Allison is not going as well as he hoped.

Fallon shoots Scott a sympathetic smile before reaching in her backpack to bring out last night's homework assignment. It wasn’t anything too difficult. Just a few pages of reading and a couple of questions to help summarize the important parts.

The bell rings loudly, indicating the start of the period. Coach turns to start writing about today’s topic of discussion on the board. She watches out of her peripherals as Allison leans forward in her desk to get closer to Scott. The boy tenses, sensing her growing closer in proximity. Allison doesn’t seem to notice the awkward tension as she goes to talk to him.

“Hey,” she smiles happily. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

Scott barely looks back, “Uh, yeah. I’ve been, uh, super busy,” he looks at Stiles and Fallon for help.

His two friends shrug at his misfortune, Fallon sinking further into her chair to avoid watching this train wreck go down. Scott has a look of momentary desperation until he has to cover it up when Allison grows closer. “When are you gonna get your phone fixed? I feel like I’m totally disconnected from you.”

Yikes. Fallon’s phone buzzes with a text from Stiles.

She sneakily pulls it out, hiding it underneath her desk to respond. I don’t know if I should be embarrassed for her or for him.

She’s clueless and he’s awkward. Why can’t it be both?

True. She giggles at his reply. I feel bad. They’re both happy when they’re together. Sucks that they can’t be.

I mean, we don’t know that yet. Stiles counters.

He said she makes him weak. She reminds him.

Once he learns how to control it, it’ll be fine. He reassures her. We just gotta show him that he won’t hurt her. Or anyone else.

Yeah, ‘cause this gross couple-ey mutual pining crap is starting to get on my nerves. She rolls her eyes as Allison tells Scott she switched her lab partner to him. She loves them both together, she really does. But Fallon’s hopeless romanticism stops in the fictional worlds she reads about.

You’re such a romantic. Stiles smirks at her with sarcasm written on his face. It really is a shock that you’re still single.

Ditto.

Stiles kicks the back of her chair and she leans her head back, looking at him upside down. She smiles innocently, booping his nose before sitting upright again. He scoffs lowly, crossing his arms as he tries to act offended by her response.

A book slamming on a desk pulls everyone’s attention to the front. Coach Finstock has a menacing look on his face as he analyzes the class, “Let’s settle down,” he commands. “Let’s start with a quick summary of last night’s reading.” Only one individual raises their hand, causing Coach to roll his eyes. “Greenberg, put your hand down. Everybody knows you did the reading,” he dismisses the boy, more annoyed now than he was before class. “How about, uh…” Everyone avoids eye contact with their teacher like the plague, trying to avoid being the one he calls on. “McCall!”

Scott looks up at him like a deer in the headlights, “What?”

Coach moves to sit on his desk, the tension within the small classroom slowly growing. “The reading.”

Scott shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, “… Last night's reading?” He wonders, seemingly trying to stall so he doesn’t have to do it.

Coach grows irritated with the question, starting to realize that Scott didn’t do the assignment, “H-How about, uh, the reading of The Gettysburg Address?” He suggests sardonically making the rest of the class laugh. Fallon wiggles her own between her fingers nervously. Coach making fun of him like this is going to make him shift in front of everyone.

Scott looks even more confused, “What?”

“That’s sarcasm,” Coach reveals with a tilt of his head. “You familiar with the term sarcasm, McCall?”

He slowly turns to the two friends on his right, “Very,” he answers. Fallon simply glares at him while Stiles smiles proudly, patting Fallon’s back like it’s a team effort. Which, most of the time it is.

Coach huffs, looking at him expectantly, “Did you do the reading, or not?”

The boy plays with the pages of the book in front of him, his embarrassment increasing. “Um, I think I forgot…”

“Nice work, McCall,” his teacher praises fakely. “It’s not like you’re not averaging a D in this class.” He leans forward on Scott’s desk, his anger being replaced by concern. “Come on, buddy. You know I can’t keep you on the team if you have a D.”

Fallon’s attention is stolen when she hears the familiar beeping of Coach’s phone tracking the heart monitor. She pulls it out of her pocket, eyes widening when she sees Scott’s pulse rising. Stiles leans forward, watching along with her as the numbers start to increase with everything Coach says.

“How about you summarize, uh, the previous night’s reading?” He suggests. 98. 99. 100.

Scott silently shakes his head, hoping that he somehow finds a supernatural way to turn invisible. “No?” Finstock mocks. “How about, the uh, the night before that?” Scott fiddles with his fingers as he avoids eye contact. 122. 123. 124. “How about you summarize anything you’ve ever read in your entire life?!” 135. 136. 137.

“I-I… uh–”

“No? A blog?” Coach asks, looking for any sort of hope that Scott’s done something. “How about, uh, h-how about, uh, the back of a cereal box?” Scott tries to hide his face behind his hand as their teacher continues grilling him. Fallon is now bouncing her leg up and down, hoping that Scott gets some sort of reprieve from this. “No? How about the adults-only warning from your favorite website you visit every night? Anything?” When Scott doesn’t answer, Coach gives up and goes to retreat back to his desk. “Thank you, McCall, thank you. Thank. You. McCall.” He emphasizes with a slap to his desk. “Thank you for extinguishing any last flicker of hope I have for your generation.” 159. 160. 161.

Fallon looks at Scott, trying to comfort him with a sympathetic smile, but he doesn’t notice. His face simply grows redder and redder and his chest heaves up and down with angry breaths. “You just blew it for everybody,” Coach continues. “Thanks. Next practice, you can start with suicide runs. Unless that’s too much reading.”

Suddenly the monitor stops beeping as rapidly. Fallon glances at it surprised as she watches his heart rate start to go down. Despite all the laughter and snickers from their classmates, it’s actually going down. Fallon and Stiles visibly relax and when they look over to their friend, they see his arm reaching backwards. Allison is holding his hand tightly, rubbing her thumb across the top of it comfortingly. Fallon tilts her head. Maybe Scott was right in a way. Allison is his weakness, but in a way that gives him control. She keeps his anger at bay, keeps him grounded.

When the bell rings, they all could not be happier to get out of there. Scott still looks a bit mortified after everything that happened. Stiles once again grabs Fallon’s bag, carrying it on his shoulder. Allison bids her goodbyes to Scott, heading in the opposite direction the trio is. As soon as they are sure she’s out of ear shot, Fallon smacks his arm, “Dude, it’s her.”

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head, confused by the random statement.

“It’s Allison,” Fallon elaborates while Stiles nods along.

“Remember what you told me about the night of the full moon?” He brings up. “You were thinking about her, right? About protecting her.”

“Okay…” Scott says, still not understanding what they’re getting at.

“Remember the night of the first lacrosse game? You said you could hear her voice out on the field,” Stiles adds, trying to see if he can put it together.

Scott nods with a small smile, “Yeah, I did.”

“Well, that's what brought you back so you could pass the ball and we could score,” Fallon finishes explaining. “And then, after the game, in the locker room, you didn't kill her– at least, not like how you were trying to kill us.” Scott frowns, sending her a pointed look. Fallon huffs, “She’s like your anchor is what I’m saying. She brings you back. No need to get your werewolf panties in a bunch.”

Scott shakes his head at her statement, “No, no, no. But it's not always true, because literally every time I'm kissing her, or-or touching her–”

Fallon’s nose scrunched up in disgust as Stiles cuts him off, “No, that’s not the same. When you’re doing that, you’re just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex, y’know?”

“I really do not want to be having this conversation with you two,” Fallon grumbles uncomfortably, especially when she notices the smirk on Scott’s face. She groans, squeezing her eyes shut, “You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?”

He chuckles sheepishly, “Yeah,” he admits. “Sorry.”

“Just don’t ever give me any details on anything you guys do, okay?” Fallon says before shaking off her disgust. “Anyway, back in the classroom when she held your hand, that was different. She may be your weakness per say, but not in the way you originally thought. I think she actually gives you control. You might go feral if she gets hurt, but that’s besides the point. She’s what actually keeps you human.”

“You mean because I love her?”

“Exactly,” Stiles nods.

Fallon’s eyes widen slightly at the sudden admission. She wasn’t expecting Scott to just randomly admit that out loud. He apparently wasn’t expecting himself to say it either, “Did I just say that?” He asks them.

“Yeah,” Fallon smiles softly. “You did.”

Scott gets even more giddy than he already was, readjusting his straps as he continues to profess his love. “I love her.”

Stiles rolls his eyes impatiently, “That’s great! Now moving on–”

“No, no, no, really– I think I’m totally in love with her,” he insists.

“And that's beautiful. Now, before you go off and write a sonnet, can we figure this out, please?” Stiles gesticulates over dramatically. “Because you obviously can't be around her all the time.”

Scott snaps back, refocusing on the task at hand. He nods, “Yeah, yeah, yeah… Sorry. So, what do I do?”

“We don’t know,” the boy huffs, pausing for a moment. “Yet.”

Scott looks at him alarmed, “Oh, no. You’re getting an idea, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” Stiles smirks.

“Is this idea going to get me in trouble?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Fallon nods, not knowing the specifics of the plan, but knowing Stiles well enough that it’s going to entail some more revenge.

Scott groans, “Is this idea gonna cause me physical pain?”

Stiles nods rapidly, “Yeah, definitely. Come on.”

Fallon crutches along behind the two boys, furrowing her eyebrows as they head out to the parking lot. Stiles looks back at her and she tilts her head, silently asking what his plan is. The boy simply shakes his head, mouthing “just wait.”

Scott looks just as lost as Fallon, “What are we doing?”

“You’ll see. Hold on,” Stiles looks into the distance as if he’s checking something before turning around to instruct Scott. “Okay, stand right there. Do you have your keys?” Scott pulls them out to show him. “Perfect. Hold ‘em up like so,” he demonstrates, lazily holding his arm up in the air. “Now, whatever happens, just think about Allison. Try to find her voice like you did at the game. Got it?”

“Okay…”

“Fallon, my partner in crime, come stand with me please,” Stiles requests and she moves over to him. “Just keep holding it right there…” He summons Fallon to follow him as he sneakily walks over to the black truck behind them. She narrows her eyes as she watches him pull out his own keys. Her jaw drops as Stiles nonchalantly keys the truck before sliding his keys back into his pocket. He taps her shoulder, telling her to call attention to it.

Fallon looks at Scott who’s silently begging her not to do what Stiles is saying. She glances back at Stiles who is just nodding menacingly. “Do it,” he whispers.

She sighs, sending Scott an apologetic look, “Dude! What the hell do you think you're doing to that truck?!” She yells fakely. Stiles has to hold back the mini celebration he wants to have as the owner of said truck turns around.

“What the hell?!” The student yells, approaching Scott who nervously fumbles with his keys. He tries to shake his head, saying it wasn’t him who did it, but the other student clearly isn’t buying it.

“Oh my God!” Fallon shouts, flinching backwards as the guy socks Scott in the face without hesitation.

Stiles grips onto her as Scott tries to fight the guy back, but he’s over powered when the other student’s friends decide to join in. Scott is thrown to the floor, giving the others the upper hand as they drag him backwards. They continue hitting him in the face and kicking his abdomen. Fallon hears the phone beeping once more and she sends Stiles a glare.

“This was your brilliant idea?” She snaps.

“If he just thinks of Allison, it should work!” He defends. His eyes travel back to Scott as Fallon pulls out the phone. His heart rate is spiking once again. “Ahh,” he taps his foot nervously. “Come on. Stay calm. Stay calm.”

Fallon looks over her shoulder, “Is there really no one here to stop this? No teachers? Nothing?” She asks with a scoff.

“Oh, that's not okay.” Stiles winces. 129. 130. 131. “Scott, come on, buddy…”

Fallon feels the need to interfere, but the way Stiles is clutching onto her prevents her from going anywhere. She holds her breath, waiting for this nightmare to be over. She knows Scott will heal from all of this, but it’s still hard for her to watch him get beat up like this.

Out of nowhere, Mr. Harris comes barreling through, barking at the assailants to stop. The brunette girl never thought she would be grateful to see Mr. Harris, but she stands corrected. The other boys run off, leaving Scott on the floor with a bloodied up nose and a decent amount of bruising. Something probably broke, but isn’t visible due to his supernatural healing.

“What do you idiots think you’re doing?” Harris asks harshly, glaring down at Scott through his glasses.

None of them could even bother responding to his insult, the only thing they’re focused on is the fact Scott managed to control his rage. Stiles and Fallon smile at each other.

“He did it.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Detention.

Fallon should’ve assumed that this is where they were going to end up after Mr. Harris caught them outside. She just wished she brought something more entertaining to school today so she could occupy her mind while being stuck here. She has a chair pulled up at the end of Scott and Stiles’ table. The three of them sitting rather dejectedly even though they technically just succeeded in teaching Scott control.

The brunette girl sketches in her notebook, drawing the Beacon Hills woods from memory. Stiles watches her interestedly, leaning forward to look at her work. He tries not to move too far forward as her broken leg rests on his lap for some form of elevation.

“That's really good,” he compliments.

She smiles, “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a scoff, like she’s stupid for even asking such a question. “Like I would frame that. Y’know, if I had the money to buy a frame… How about I hang it on my fridge?”

Fallon laughs softly, ripping the page out and handing it to him. “Do what makes you happy.”

He grins, carefully putting the drawing in his backpack. The two of them look at Scott who shifts around in his seat. He’s antsy to get out of here. After a moment, he finally speaks to Mr. Harris, “Excuse me, sir?” He gets their teacher’s attention. “Uh, I know it’s detention and all, but, uh… I’m supposed to be at work, and I don’t want to get fired.”

Despite Scott’s polite request, Mr. Harris just grins fakely at the boy, looking back down at the paper he is grading. Fallon shakes her head annoyed. She didn’t understand how someone who hates kids could choose a profession where they sit with them all day.

Scott tries to go back to working on his homework, but can’t stop himself from talking to his friends on the other side of him. “You knew I would heal,” he says, with an almost impressed tone of voice.

“Yep,” Stiles nods. “We both did.”

“So you did that to help me learn?”

“Yep,” he repeats, rubbing his hands together.

“…But partially to punish me.”

“Thought that one was obvious,” Fallon mutters, hitting her pen on the desk to a steady rhythm.

Scott sighs, looking at them sadly, “Guys, you’re my best friends,” he says, regret etched in his eyes. “And I can’t have you both being angry with me.”

Both her and Stiles pause for a moment. Fallon sucks in a deep breath, looking at Scott sincerely, “We’re not angry at you anymore.”

Stiles turns to him, “Look. You have something, Scott, okay? Whether you want it or not, you can do things that nobody else can do. So, that means you don't have a choice anymore– it means you have to do something.”

Scott nods his head, really taking in Stiles’ words. “I know,” he agrees. “And I will.”

“Just next time a car comes barreling at me and Allison, try to give me a five second warning so I can at least try to save myself,” Fallon says lightheartedly.

“There won’t be a next time,” Scott shakes his head. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not again.”

Fallon smiles toothlessly, reaching across the table to grab his hand. Stiles places his on top of theirs, all of them coming to a truce. Mr. Harris watches from afar, his frozen heart slightly touched by the display. He rolls his eyes, “All right, all three of you– out of here,” he gestures towards the door with his head.

The three of them look at him with wide eyes, but nonetheless stand up and start collecting their stuff. For once the boys allow Fallon to carry her own backpack. She wings it over her shoulder and adjusts herself on her crutches before following after them.

“Miss Donovan,” Mr. Harris calls out. She internally screams, not wanting to speak to him more than she has to, especially after what her father said to him on parent-teacher conference night.

She turns, “Yes sir?”

“I hope this shows that I do not hate you, Mr. McCall, or Mr. Stilinski. I meant what I said. I see a potential in you that I… struggle to see within them. Or at least I did,” he concedes. “But if I keep witnessing displays like that,” he refers to their conversation, “then perhaps I can admit where I was wrong. They aren’t all bad.”

Fallon shuffles awkwardly, not knowing how to react to him being kind. “Thank you?” She says it more as a question than statement.

Mr. Harris nods, “And I hope your leg gets better. I’m sorry to hear that happened to you.”

“Yeah…” she nods. “I’m all right though.”

“Well, have a good rest of your day,” he says, suddenly reverting back to his cold demeanor as he looks back down at the worksheets in front of him.

She sighs, heading back towards the door, “You too.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon didn’t even get a chance to get dropped off by Stiles before Scott called them, explaining that Derek showed up to the animal clinic and attacked Deaton. The older werewolf thinks that Scott’s boss may be the Alpha. Hearing that made the girl's blood run cold. She’s spoken to Deaton a couple of times and she never would have guessed him to be the murderous werewolf they’ve been looking for.

Scott requested them to come pick him up because he told Derek to meet them at the school. So Stiles and Fallon did a quick pit stop at his house to grab supplies they’ll need to break into the school and then they quickly go pick up their friend. When the arrive, Scott picks up Fallon, helping her out of the jeep.

They move to the trunk, Stiles glancing around worriedly, “This is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah, I know,” Scott admits.

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, “But we’re still gonna do it…?” She asks incredulously.

“Can you think of something better?” Scott questions a bit harshly.

Stiles shrugs, “Well, personally, I’m a fan of ignoring a problem until eventually it just goes away…”

Scott gives him a deadpan look, “Just make sure we can get inside.”

The headlights from Derek’s Camaro practically blind Fallon as he pulls up. She glances down at her watch. Ten-thirty. She hopes her dad believed her when she said she’d be sleeping over at Stiles’. Noah and him are working the overnight shift so as long as they choose to believe her and Stiles, they should be okay.

“He’s here,” she mumbles to Scott and Stiles.

Scott’s the first one to approach Derek as he smoothly slides out of the driver’s seat. Fallon crutches behind Scott, peeking out from behind his shoulder to look at Derek. “Where’s my boss?” Scott demands darkly.

“He’s in the back,” Derek replies shortly, nodding to the back window of his car.

Fallon glances through the window seeing Deaton tied up and knocked out. She feels bad for the man, even if he is the Alpha, there is no way he's waking up without a creak in his neck. Stiles scoffs, “Oh, well, he looks comfortable,” he comments sarcastically.

Derek shrugs, his suspect’s comfortability not a concern to him in the slightest. Stiles shakes his head in annoyance before waving at Scott to follow him towards the school. Fallon decided to stay outside as she didn’t feel like moving super far with her crutches if she didn’t have to. They tend to dig into her armpits when she walks around excessively. She removes them from under her arms and leans against the Camaro, figuring Derek wouldn’t mind.

“Wait–” Derek calls out, confused as to what they're doing. “Hey. What are you doing?”

Scott turns around, “You said I was linked with the Alpha– I’m gonna see if you’re right,” he replies before finishing his journey to the entrance of the school.

Fallon glances into the window and frowns when she looks at Deaton. She still can’t even fathom that he could be the Alpha. He’s so kind, gentle even. He takes care of animals, he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not on purpose anyway.

Derek eyes her for a moment before slowly inching closer to her. He points to her leg, “How are you feeling?” His voice was low, gruff—almost like he was forcing himself to ask.

She looks up at him with a shrug, “Okay, I guess. Just a little sore. It’s also really hard to scratch when I have an itch,” she admits. “Not that you needed to know that last part.”

“It’s all right,” he replies, hands buried in his pockets. “Friends can share those details, can’t they?” He lifts an eyebrow, leaning against the car alongside her.

Fallon smiles at him, “Yeah, I guess they can.”

“Have you been taking your pain medication?” He questions curiously.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Actually… I may have forgotten tonight,” she says thoughtfully. “I left my backpack at Stiles’ house. Haven’t exactly had a minute of downtime today to think about it.” She tried to keep her tone light, but she couldn’t help the slight edge of frustration that crept in. She wasn’t used to being this vulnerable, this...weak.

He glowers at her for a moment, “You better take it when you get back there,” he says strictly. “If you’re in pain, it’s only going to slow you down.”

She met his gaze, surprised at the concern lacing his words. It wasn’t like Derek to show he cared—at least, not openly. “I’m not planning on going anywhere fast, Hale.”

Derek huffed, almost like he was amused. Almost. “Good. Because if you do, you’re going to fall flat on your face.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, despite herself. “Are you offering to catch me if I do?”

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes searching hers for a beat too long. “You wouldn’t need to be caught if you were more careful,” he said finally, his tone firm but lacking its usual bite.

Fallon let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re really bad at this whole comforting thing, you know that?”

“I’m not trying to be comforting,” Derek replied, his eyes flicking back to the school. But his posture had softened just a fraction, his stance less rigid than before.

They fell into silence again, the sounds of the night surrounding them. Fallon shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure on her leg. “So what exactly was your original plan when you were gonna pick up Scott?”

Derek’s jaw tightens, “Teach him control,” he answers.

“Okay, obviously,” she rolls her eyes. “But how?”

“Test him. See what he can handle. Try to help him find a way to ground himself,” he explains briefly. “And if he couldn’t figure it out…”

“Then you’d step in,” she finishes for him. She looks at him, “Would you hurt him?” She wonders softly. “Y’know… if he couldn’t do it.”

He glances at her again, his expression softening just a touch. “If he puts anyone else at risk, yes.”

She nods, appreciating his straightforwardness. It was something she’d come to value in Derek, even if he was rough around the edges. “I can handle myself, you know. A broken leg isn’t going to stop me.”

Derek’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to her leg before meeting hers again. “You shouldn’t have to.”

The words hung between them, heavier than she expected. Fallon felt her chest tighten, the weight of everything they’d been through pressing down on her. But instead of feeling stifled, she felt… understood.

“Thanks, Derek,” she says quietly, her voice sincere.

He gave a short nod, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment before turning back to the school. “Just don’t make a habit of getting hurt,” he muttered, the gruffness back in his voice.

Fallon smiled to herself, leaning back against the car. “No promises.”

All of a sudden, out of nowhere the wimpiest howl Fallon has ever heard echoes over the PA system. Her jaw drops as she fights off the urge to laugh. She couldn’t even think of what to classify that as. It sounded like a cat having gas pains.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Derek winces as if listening to that was physically painful. Truthfully, it was. She normally tries to be an encouraging person, but that was awful. She’s pretty sure her ears would have bled if it had gone on any longer. She silently hopes that Stiles finds some way to inspire Scott to dig deep. Because at this rate, there’s no way the Alpha is coming.

When the second howl comes through, it actually makes the girl jump. This one is deep and powerful. It manages to cause the building to shake, making the doors vibrate with a loud jangle. A surge of fear fills Fallon’s veins as she realizes that this is it. There’s no way the Alpha could ignore that. She’ll have to face him again. Derek can sense the sudden shift in her demeanor. He can smell the chemo signals radiating off of her. Her face remains still, but her insides are twisting in ways they shouldn’t be.

“Hey,” Derek gets her attention. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he reassures.

She nods, not having the ability to come up with a more witty response. She tries to shake off the overwhelming feeling that something bad is going to happen, but it continues to linger over her. Eventually Scott and Stiles make it out of the school, meeting a very pissed off Derek and a concerned Fallon. “I’m gonna kill both of you,” the elder of them threatens furiously. “What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?”

Scott tries to apologize genuinely, but anyone can see how proud of himself he is. “Sorry… I didn’t know it would be that loud.”

“Yeah,” Stiles scoffs excitedly, “it was loud… And it was awesome…” he finishes in a sing-song voice.

Fallon can’t help but smirk, pushing her growing worries aside. “Gotta admit Scotty, that was impressive.” She stiffens when noticing Derek’s glare, “I mean– not impressive. Not impressive at all,” she clears her throat awkwardly.

Derek looks at her incredulously, “Shut up.”

Her lips form a tight-line. So much for the moment they just shared. Stiles narrows his eyes, “Don’t be such a sour-wolf,” he mocks, pulling Fallon closer to him and Scott. She stumbles slightly, trying to get ahold of her crutches.

“Could you be a bit gentler, please?” She scoffs.

“What’d you do with him?” Scott asks snippily, pointing to Derek’s car which is now open.

“What?” The man’s eyes widen as he turns around. He looks baffled as he sees the backseat is empty. The nervous feeling fills Fallon’s gut again. Deaton was knocked out cold. There’s no way he could just get up and walk out without at least one of them hearing him. “I didn’t do anything,” he tells them.

“He didn’t,” Fallon confirms. “We’ve been talking the whole time.”

However, nothing else can be said as hot blood spurts out of Derek’s mouth and onto Fallon’s face. She stumbles back in shock before screaming loudly. Derek is being lifted in the air, claws belonging to the Alpha ripping straight through his back. His green eyes are wide as he chokes on his own bodily fluids.

Fallon tries to tell herself to move, but her body won’t listen. Staring into the bright red eyes of the creature that invaded her space, who made her feel unsafe, rendered her paralyzed. She can’t even blink as she watches the Alpha chuck Derek across the parking lot into the wall of the school. His body hits the ground with a loud crash. She makes eye contact with the monster as Scott and Stiles pick her up, carrying her into the school. She can’t seem to tear her eyes away from it. Again, the expression it wears is almost mocking. Like it’s silently telling her she’s existing on borrowed time.

She’s only brought back to earth when the doors to the school slam shut, both of the boys setting her on the ground before holding the doors closed. Her eyes still look distant, disturbed. Scott and Stiles share a concerned look, not just for their situation but for their friend who is once again covered in Derek’s blood.

[acesandocs]

Before I post the short story I've been working on, I wanted to introduce some of Ace’s family, since they're going to be featured. I tried to edit it down to the important stuff but if anyone wants to know more just ask.

Solveig Liv Årud/Sylvia Hall, Ace's Mother

Ace's mom Solveig was born in Kapp along with her two brothers, One of her neighbors was a music teacher and taught her to play the Hardanger fiddle. When she was seventeen she became pregnant by one of her neighbor's students but was urged by her neighbor to never tell him or anyone else of the child's parentage. Having had Ace outside of wedlock Solveig faced a lot of social ostracisation. Her sister in law, who was deeply religious judged Solveig for having a child without marrying. A rumor amongst the townspeople was that Ace's father was actually a fossegrim, that Solveig agreed to have a child with in exchange for teaching her to play the fiddle so well. (there is actually a lot to say on how this affected Ace and his view of himself but we don't have time to get into it rn). After a flood made her and her family homeless they emigrated to America in 1920 at the advice of some friends.

Once they arrived in New York Ace became very ill and bedridden causing them to be left behind as the rest of their family continued further up to Minnesota. While Ace was sick Solveig met and later fell in love with a Swedish immigrant named Eric Hall. She married Eric after knowing him for half a year. Solveig had kept Ace close all her life and not really letting her grow up or stand on her own. So he reacted badly to Solveig marrying. Being jealous and being unable to deal with not being her mothers center of attention, making him lash out. After an argument where Solveig slapped Ace for being disrespectful to her stepfather Ace ran away from home. Ace and Solveig have been estranged ever since, both being too stubborn to try to reconcile. After Solveig married Eric she tried very hard to adapt to American culture, Americanizing her name to Sylvia and trying her best to learn English and not speak with an accent. She currently has two children with Eric. Neither them nor Ace know of each other's existence.

Torbjørn Olaug Årud and Lena Årud, Ace's Grandparents

Lena was born in Kapp and Torbjørn was born in the Lofoten area. He traveled down to Toten to live with a family friend after he became orphaned. He later met Lena and they eventually married. They later had 2 sons, the youngest of them dying after moving away as an adult, later they had a daughter they named Solveig. When Solveig became pregnant at seventeen they decided to support her and help her take care of their granddaughter. In the years immediately after Ace was born she and Solveig lived with them before moving into a smaller house on their property. By this time their oldest had married and taken over the main house on the farm and Torbjørn and Lena moved into another small house on the property.

They emigrated to America with the rest of their family in 1920 and went with the rest to Minnesota leaving Solveig and Ace behind. Lena later died in 1922 after becoming sick. Ace does not know this happened.

Info on the art:

Ace is supposed to be a tortoiseshell cat, witch is something that can be seen in her mother and grandmother as well. this is a reference to the fact that tortoiseshells are mostly female. (source)

Her grandfather is supposed to be a Norwegian forest cat.

The implement Solveig is holding is called a Lyster and it is used to fish. Lyster fishing was usually done when it was dark out, using the Lyster to stab the fish. it was banned in the 1860 but was most likely still practiced afterwards. Today it has become completely illegal. The fish in the bucket are trout, a fish that was commonly caught with a Lyster. (source) Here is a painting depicting it.

I apologize for any spelling mistakes or weird wording, i try my best to read though these before i post them but some mistakes often slip through.

[trumpkinhotboy]

Never alone

Pairing: big sister!darcy olsson x little sister!reader

Type: requested

Warnings: none really? mentions of having a strick and unsupportive parent

Word count: approx 700

Requests: open! for heartstopper, twilight wolfpack and narnia

A/n: loved writing this, thank you again for the request xx

"I knew there was a chance I'd find you here." You let out a relieved breath at the sight of your older sister sitting on a rusted swing in the old park near your home.

Darcy jolted upward at the sound of your voice. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" she asked with a fake smile plastered on her face. You could be a little oblivious sometimes, but you could not miss the trail of wet tears staining her cheeks.

It hurt your heart beyond measure to see her, even after everything that just happened, trying to put on a happy face for you. Life at home was far from easy. Your mother was incredibly strict and severe. You often thought she must be in a terrible amount of pain to be so cold and distant with her children. Your sister and you learned not to expect any favor from your mother. Even if you were only a year younger than Darcy, she always took her big sister role very seriously. She constantly tried to protect you from the bitterness of your mother. Even when she had been kicked out of her home, she was still trying to protect you.

You stared at her in silence for a second, your gaze filled with concern. "Darcy, stop."

"What?" she tried subtly wiping away the tears. "Did you want to hang out? We can go and get ice cream."

She took a step, but you grabbed her wrist firmly. "Drop the bullshit. I heard everything."

A crack in her mask. A second to falter.

"Are you okay?" you asked while softening your hold on her wrist.

The three little words had the power to destroy the front she kept putting up. Her face scrunched in a pained expression, silver tears lining her eyes.

You sighed once more before pulling her in a hug. She melted in your arms, big sobs crawling their way out of her hurt body. You allowed her to rest in your arms, to let everything go.

"I'm so sorry Dar," you whispered, squeezing her as tight as you could, hoping it would somehow put back the pieces of her heart your mom had shattered times and times again.

You guided her to sit on a bench as she calmed down. Delicately, you wiped the tears away from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry for doing this to you. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

You let out an exasperated breath. "You don't ever have to apologize about what happened back there. You don't have to protect me all the time. At least, you have to let me protect you in return. We are a team. We are the only thing we can always, always count on. I know how hard you try to be happy all the time, but I promise, no one would love you less because you showed the hard moments. I surely won't. I know Tara won't, and anyone else in the gang won't, for that matter."

Kicking pebbles with the tip of her weathered Converse she seemed so vulnerable. Darcy felt like a mistake, a burden, most of the time. Probably because of everything your mother kept telling her, and you hated her for it.

"I'm not so sure about that… Nobody likes a burden," she mumbled.

"You are not a burden. Do you find me annoying or burdensome when I have hardships?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed with a surprised expression.

You lifted your brows with a knowing smile as realization dawned on her. "And I can confirm it's the same for you."

You nodded at the entrance of the park where Tara, Elle, Tao, Joe, Nick, and Isaac appeared, worried looks on their faces. Your sister's girlfriend let out a strangled noise when she noticed Darcy sitting on the bench with you.

"Please don't be mad, but they were very worried about you, and I think you need them."

She looked back at you with tears in her eyes and relief sketched on her face. She grabbed your hand and held tight as she waved to her friends.

"If only you could see yourself through my eyes. You would understand how fricking amazing you are. You are not and will never be alone." You finally added before you were wrapped into a big group hug.

[sic-k]

I just learned how to edit and i spent my entire afternoon doing this. Its my first time watching mc, i'm trying to avoid bigger spoilers to draw my own conclusions.

Hurrem is a tough character, most of the time I wonder why they made her a protagonist (when I get annoyed by all her drama). She is stubborn, vindictive, suspicious, jealous, explosive and disrespectful.

This scene its on E38, she tried to kill Isabella because she had feelings (and sex) with her polygamous man (which it is something that it will always make me laugh), her monogamous christian spirit must be needing a break after living on a Harem, she literally want to destroy everything related romantically to Suleyman.

I used to see that as such childish thing to do, then i remembered E1 when she was sold as a slave - AS A SLAVE -, went through years without knowing nothing about her family - probably dead - AND THEN, the most powerful guy of their times falls in love with her, it's obvious that anyone in her shoes would grab that love with all their strength.

She was thrown into completely new customs and a system totally different from what she knew. Mahidrevan, Ibrahim and Valide has their bizarre aliance that repressed Hurrem - Daye Hatun, Sumbul, Gulsah too as pawns - without pity or mercy.

Valide shouldn't be surprised at all by her rebellious and vengeful way, In this particular episode she (and the other ladys) are expecting an extreme punishment to Hurrem and when it didn't happened they got sooo mad, they just wanted Hurrem gone so they can do nothing and nothing all day long.

In E38, Valide questions Suleyman about the immensity of Hurrem's power and how powerful the influence of this power is on him… He doesn't even give her a concrete answer, not only because he doesn't want to discuss this particular subject with his mom, but because he doesn't even know how to explain what that ruthena does with his heart, this clips above this text shows that, and yeah, I don't buy that when he said to Pargali that he was calm because he already knew where the princess were.

--

I want to bring more clips of nigar and Ibrahim, let it out my thoughts about this amazing ship but i read something here that told me that theres more coming soooo.....

If you read til here, please apologize the mistakes, i'm 🇧🇷, english its not my first language

[prettywitchiusaka]

Okay, so I was away from the computer most of yesterday and didn't learn about DeMayo spilling some tea about MOM's original script until late last night.

Having read through his response, as well as information I've gathered from someone in the DS Fan Community on twitter (who got a chance to meet one of the key staff involved in the film), here's what it sounds like the original script contained;

Mordo would've been at Karmar-Taj. Not sure how, though I imagine there would be more of an explanation.

Clea would've made an appearance earlier in the film than the mid-credit scene. Though, my inner storyteller feels like they would've revealed her connection to Dormammu in the mid-credit scene as a tease for DS3.

Wanda would not only have been with Stephen, she would've also been aiding him and Wong and would actively tutor America (and also warn her about abusing her power).

The film would've been a team-up film between Stephen and Wanda.

Nightmare would've been revealed to be a Stephen variant who'd been corrupted by The Darkhold.

Wanda would've resisted corruption right up until the end where, unable to resist finding a universe where she can with happy with her children, breaks from Team Strange.

Wong would've tried stopping her...only to get beheaded by mistake.

Wanda would've felt guilty about it and, according to DeMayo, would have been repeatedly apologizing to Stephen as she departs, leaving him with his friend's decapitated corpse.

And, from what we know from the concept art that came out a few years ago, The Book of Vishanti would've had a piece that would break off and attach itself to the Eye of Agamotto, giving Stephen a power upgrade, and, most notably, the death of Donna Strange.

So...yeah, that's a lot to unpack/take in! But yeah, to summarize, it really is fascinating/infuriating how, for all of Waldron's insistence on "starting from scratch" that he took many of Derrickson and Bartlett's concepts and watered them down to their most basic elements. All so he could make a script HE was satisfied with.

That being said, assuming DeMayo's not talking out of his ass? It's nice be vindicated regarding Wanda's original arc in the film. That while she learned her lesson from Wandavision and was able to overcome Vision's death, she's still lonely an unable to accept things as they are. It makes her arc even sadder, and keeps her villainous turn empathetic like it was in that series.

Now let's address the controversial elements from the script; Wong's death and the reveal of Nightmare being a corrupted variant of Stephen.

Honestly? I'm mixed. I've really grown to love Nightmare's character over the past year or so, so I'd prefer him being a separate entity from Stephen. And, like most MCU fans, I like Wong. But, and this is where I'm gonna probably get some flack...I think I could honestly learn to be okay with these decisions.

They're a hard pill to swallow, yes. Though honestly, I can sort see where Derrickson is coming from; is there's one thing I know about Nightmare, it's that he's a manipulative narcissist. And while Stephen isn't an outright sociopath, he is kind of a narcissist at the beginning of the first film. It wouldn't be that big of a stretch to see that he could easily become this corrupted if he wasn't careful. So yeah, I could learn to be okay with this idea. Especially where Wong is concerned. From what I can gather, it sounds like the film's main theme of "be your best self" was there but tied more into the original film's themes of humility and self-acceptance. Here Stephen gives into despair and, maybe even learns to accept Donna's death...only to now watch his best friend and mentor get killed right in front of him. Thus, leaving him with that pit of self-loathing, and the wound it left on his heart re-opening at the sight of someone else he loved getting killed.

Also, I just love the irony of Wanda accidentally re-traumatizing Stephen. There's just something that's kind of poetically dark about that.

But yeah, those are my thoughts on what the original script for DS2 would've entailed. Needless to say, it would've been controversial, but I think it wouldn't have been as controversial than the movie we ended up with.

And frankly? If Marvel is gonna take chances with their properties, these are the kinds of risks they should take. At least these come from a place of passion, instead of outright cynicism.

P.S. I'm kinda hoping DeMayo drops some more tea in the future, like some tea about Waldron. That'd be great!!!

[ofdinosanddais1]

Heartbreak High Season 2 Spoilers

So... lots of shit happened in the finale.

1): I like that they're setting up a redemption for Sasha and Spider. Both have done such horrible things on complete opposite ends of the spectrum but it's nice to see they could have a path to growth.

2): For Spider, I'm hoping to see more of his home life. I am thinking his father abused both him and his mom and his mom had a traumatic response which made her fear men including her own son. I think she pushed him away when she should've helped him because that's her kid and he reacted in his own way. And that does not absolve him of his wrongdoings, it means he has to sort through this shit in order to grow and prevent further harm to others. I would love to see more discussion on that in the third season. I would love for Spider to have a retribution and closure arc not for his own wellbeing (although it's a factor) but because there are boys watching this show who might have experienced things like him who might want to know it's okay to feel emotions and to see the damage that his actions did to show that it's not a healthy thing to do and it hurts a lot of people. I said redemption arc because that's probably what the show is setting up for but I think "redemption" should be left ambiguously like he's trying to be better but his actions have lasting consequences on the people he's hurt and he will always be making up for that. Changing for other people is not about being seen as the good guy but doing your best to prevent further harm. It's a complicated thing to deal with but I think showing that complexity like they have before is so important for kids watching this show.

3): I would fucking adore to see a Sasha redemption arc mostly for my own experience with other people who behaved like her who never learned from their mistakes for treating me differently because I'm autistic. Some of y'all might not want a redemption arc for her but like, I would fucking love to see her apologize and acknowledge what she did wrong and show change. Even if it's hard to do at first because no one will be perfect on the first try. After the lack of a genuine apology from Sia and her actions to the autistic community and how she continues to victimize herself, I just really want an allistic person to apologize and do better and I think the set-up for that in season 3 is PERFECT. Hopefully, there's a way for Quinni to still be school captain with Sasha as her co-captain because I think a message of uplifting people in communities you are not a part of is an EXCELLENT message. Sasha could step back with being the leading voice in this and allow Quinni to be a voice in her life as being autistic. Then this could expand to Sasha stepping back and uplifting other people's voices and learn that activism is about bringing people together and allowing space to share ideas and not trying to call out every single action she thinks is wrong. Overall though, I don't want them back in a relationship. I think the captain/vice-captain friendship could be fucking GREAT.

4): My heart fucking hurts for Cash. During that whole episode where he was on that boat with Chook, I was so fucking scared it was gonna be a jumping out situation but I fucking hope Chook doesn't mess with Cash or Harper anymore. He fucking had a deal and I don't want any redemption for Chook whatsoever. Crime and recidivism reduction is a special interest of mine and I fucking hated that Cash was in that situation to begin with and it's a perfect example of how vulnerable people join gangs. I am so fucking elated that this show is doing a great job of representing crime, recidivism, and police brutality. I'll have to research the prison system in Australia because I wanna see the similarities between Australia and the US's prison system. But YES. NAIL ON HEAD. A lot of teenagers and children join gangs because they are vulnerable whether that be an abusive home life such as Cash being in a group home then in Chook's gang before his grandma brought him to her home. How your family, your friends, your loved ones are all in danger when you are trying to leave a gang. I'm so fucking relieved that hopefully Cash can be free. I don't trust Chook's word though and that stuff always haunts people who often have no choice. I just want him to be safe and loved and cared for. He deserves so much better.

5): Kinda disappointed that Harper and Amerie didn't have a conversation on how Harper treated her but I think I still like their arc. I don't think that they're in anyway on the best terms they could be but I think it's because that Amerie views relationships transactionally in the way that she thinks she has to give every cent of her self to make other people accept her and I wanna see more of Amerie's story. For one, we know she has a sorta strict mom. For two, I've never seen anything about her dad. I'm wondering if there was an incident in her peer group in the earlier days or a situation in her home life where she feels like she constantly has to give 200% just to feel like she deserves even 5% of something. I really want the showrunners to tackle that kind of stuff in the third season. I want Harper and Amerie to have some kind of realization that their friendship is more complicated and I want Amerie to just have a god damn break for once. Have like a filler episode or gods just a fucking nap. I want Amerie to get like a cold where Harper or Darren or someone just helps her out while a bunch of crazy shit happens at school. Give my girl a break.

6): I fucking hate Rowan. He's manipulative but also traumatized. BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW GREAT SAM RECHNER DID PORTRAYING HIM??? It's like he woke up one day as Rowan like his acting was fucking PHENOMENAL. If Rowan is in the third season, I'm not going to be mad because I fucking love Sam Rechner's portrayal of a teenager that is aggressive and touchy and just... how tf do I put this... a sort of trauma-touched angry that is not the typical portrayal of "I'm angry because I'm traumatized" but just representative of people who are like him if that makes any fucking sense??? Idk how to describe his attitude and mannerisms because there us definitely trauma laced with his actions but you can also tell through his backstory that this shit didn't start with his trauma or at least not the one we saw in the beginning. It's kinda like the signs of a serial killer but (hopefully) those signs are recognized and he is placed in a treatment that can focus on protecting himself and others. I don't think his behaviors will go away and I would not be surprised if he's not in the second season because he was institutionalized because that seems like a natural progression.

It's weird to talk about Rowan because there are signs that his trauma has influence on his behavior but is not the sole cause of his behavior. I don't want to put some kind of diagnostic label on him and I encourage everyone else to also not put a diagnostic label on him because I think most people watching (including myself) have the psychological knowledge to put a label on him without demonizing other mental illnesses because I see a lot of behaviors that can be attributed to some psychological problems but I'm not educated enough to talk about that without demonizing people with those mental illnesses who act so far from his other behaviors. So, I don't recommend other people putting a label on him because, even with good intentions, there are people who would want to use Rowan as a reason to demonize real life mentally ill people. But, I do not fucking like him as a person. I love the characterization. But fuck him to the sun, man. He was manipulative of Amerie and he was trying to forget Amerie but his thoughts did result in harmful actions and I think the best retribution would be deep psychiatric help but knowing the mental health industry, the kind of help he needs does not currently exist and that fucking sucks. If he is in the next season, I'm not going to complain because holy fuck I loved the character in the realm of his writing like the writer room for Heartbreak High deserves a fucking award.

Overall, my thoughts on the season were that I love how complicated everyone is. The characters feel like actual people that exist in real life. They feel loved and cared for and I hope netflix greenlights a third season. I've seen a LOT of people recently who hadn't watched the first season come out but got a netflix account specifically to watch Heartbreak High and that kind of thing is what netflix WANTS so I'm a little more hopeful that a third season might get greenlit. I'm excited to see what the showrunners do next.

Again, gonna say that, whatever behaviors that Rowan has that can be attributed to certain mental health disorders, let's just consider what fuel we're adding to the fire.

And because some people did this, remember that the actors are not the characters. A lot of people bullied Gemma for Sasha's actions but Gemma is the actor playing Sasha, she is not actually Sasha. She did a fantastic job so it might be confusing but she is not Sasha and does not deserve the hate she gets for her wonderful portrayal. This goes for EVERY actor.