#that level stupidity is not even interesting anymore

[openpassionates]

"NOTHING THAT YOU said changes anything or justifies anything. i think it's stupid, actually. the cheating explanation makes you look worse." venus tells him for future reference. she doesn't need the explanation anymore ever since she found out from olivia. sure, it was interesting to have rafael's perspective but it changes nothing for her. "i feel like you know so much about me but i can't say the same in return. like i know you but maybe not on the same level. i've shared a lot with you. even on our date... you were being surface level or not sharing as much. you were being selfish, rafael. it's easier to say that instead of anything else. i told you the ugly things i've done in relationships even when i thought they'd make you look at me differently. i was just ready to accept that if it did then i had the wrong person. that's it. the problem that i had was the lying anyway. not the cheating." she stares into his eyes while she speaks to him so he can know that she means it sincerely and as seriously as possible. she did find it messed up that he did that to her but all she can do is hope that things would be different. venus already expects the worst out of every relationship she enters for safety reasons. "if not dating wise, then what else? hooking up? i don't care about that. i could run into angelina jolie on a carpet and she'd have a shot at hooking up with me. i have a connection with you. chris got left at the altar for a reason." as harsh as it sounds, she couldn't deal with chris' destructive ways. his anger and lack of trust issues got in the way of what they could've been. "i don't wanna fight with you. it sucks because i like talking to you and being around you. but the communication does need some work. a lot of work."

truthfully rafael doesn’t really know how to respond to venus right now. he knows no amount of reassurance will help repair the damage to the relationship that his life have caused. he’d say that his heart was in the right place, but did it matter? “cheating on olivia was not something i can say i’m proud of and no one deserves that. it isn’t something that I thought would go as far as it did.” he figures is time to so much explain what happened with the emails for the first time on his own account. “i was only talking to the woman at first, it didn’t start out with cheating in mind and it ended just as quick as it started. by the time olivia found the messages I had already cut off communication. i know how to be devoted, olivia and i had a lot of unresolved arguments, a lot of things we put to the side to talk about later— i’m blame for that she wanted me to be less avoidant and i wanted to her to relax more…you start seeing an older woman right after you decide that you don’t want to just have fun anymore, things get serious. i thought— well this must be it. i’ve figured it out.” he goes quiet, wondering how he got here, back at square one, not just with venus, but in general. always trying to do the right thing, trying to make the right decisions and never quite getting it right. failing at marriage and having not learned much, clearly. “i try not to avoid things too much with you, and my intentions are never to hurt you. i thought i was doing the right thing waiting to tell you about that. what you saw as a open opportunity to tell you about the emails; i saw differently. i didn’t wanna ruin our time together. it wasn’t a secret at least it wasn’t supposed to be. i needed the time to be right. i didn’t just wanna say: i cheated on my ex-wife through email. while,i’m sure sorry doesn’t mean anything, i really am sorry for not telling you sooner and that you had to find out the way you did. i’m doing to you what I did to olivia and that’s not fair.” as for chris she’s right. he does think they still have a shot. rafael knows that his jealousy can be amusing to others, chris especially. venus doesn’t take him seriously either. “christopher does have a shot, maybe not dating wise but he has a shot with you. you’ve said that yourself. still, i think my problem with him is valid. you don’t shy away from touching him either. “i’m trying to be better when it comes to communicating because I don’t want to fail again and lose you too, just because i’m worried about the outcome.”

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🌊] DISCIPLINE: SWIMMING

PAIRING: swimmer!mingyu x swimmer!fem reader GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers(ish), idiots that doesn't realise the other one is in love with them too, mingyu is a tease but also down bad WARNINGS: the reader gets hurt (hits her head, nothing too descriptive), mingyu is a hottie WORD COUNT: 3k

SYNOPSIS: what will it take for you and mingyu to finally understand that you're literally meant to be?

natalia's note: @wonijinjin the broad back and bulging biceps are for you

“i can’t do this anymore.” 

mingyu's words hit you like a speeding train. 

you quickly lifted your head from where you were looking at your fingers splashing the water, facing your best friend. 

“w-what?” you asked, horrified. “what do you mean?” 

his shoulders dropped, causing the water to ripple around your bodies, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you wouldn’t like what he was about to say next. 

“i can’t do this anymore. i can’t watch you lose again and again,” he sighed, and dived under the red lane line, emerging a second later right next to you. “it’s,” he took a breath, “heartbreaking.” 

with how close he was to you now you didn’t have a choice but to look up, which was stupid because come on - you were in the water. a wole ass swimming pool. like, he could literally submerge himself a little bit more and you’d be eye level, but no. kim mingyu had to flash everyone in the damn room with his godly sculptured chest and shoulders. 

you mentally scolded yourself for losing the last ounces of your dignity over a man, because why was it so hard for you to peel your eyes off his pecs? and a quiet voice inside your head was telling you that mingyu didn’t do this by accident - he knew how it affected you. but it shouldn’t. you were best friends after all. 

and best friends didn’t look at each other’s chests. and wide shoulders. and bulging biceps. 

“then stop being such a bitch, kim mingyu,” you cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the purple “paris 2024” banners over his head. “if it’s breaking your heart then that’s your problem, not mine.”  

mingyu rolled his eyes, and quickly lifted his hand to splash water at you, making you shriek. what a shame god didn’t bless you with quicker reflexes, so you could cover your eyes at least. it was funny how people used to tell your coach that it would be for the best to split your training sessions because you didn’t get on well with each other, while in reality you got on well a bit too much. 

“uh, excuse moi?” you cringed at his horrible attempt to speak french, “you’re calling the three time world champion and two time olympic gold medalist a bitch?” he put his hand over his heart. 

“then why don’t you want to race with me anymore?” you practically whined. “are you afraid of getting beaten by a girl? would that do damage to your reputation in the olympic village?” you giggled at his unamused stare. “i’m sure the gymnasts would be very disappointed to find out you’re not as big and strong as they thought,” you pouted at him, mockingly. 

“i told you baby, i don’t want to see you lose again, simple as that” mingyu put his hand on your shoulder. “can’t you race against ava or liv?” 

you weren’t sure if it was better to go underwater or to call for the medics at this point. this infuriatingly hot man just called you baby for god’s sake and he had his hand placed so close to your neck it felt as if he was cradling it. luckly you could blame the cold water for your shivering. the worst part - you were 99% sure you saw him make out with alexa before going to paris, so all of the sweet words and gentle touches were platonic. 

they meant nothing. 

which… were you even surprised? the hottest guy making out with the hottest girl on the team. both multiple champions. both insanely talented. 

still, you wouldn’t give up, and that definitely wasn’t because of your delusions that you could pull the hottest and the best swimmer on the continent, but because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“you’re not fooling me, kim mingyu. i think you’re just scared of me beating you.” 

he scoffed, and finally lowered himself into the water. thank heavens. “okay then. what do you say about one last race to finish this training off?” mingyu said, and sent you a challenging look, which he knew would rile you up even more. 

“deal,” you shook his extended hand. “but don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“as you wish, my queen,” he bowed his head, and snickered. “but-,” 

“no buts,” you cut him off. 

“ah, ah,” he pointed a finger at you. “if you lose you have to take a bath in the seine.” 

sometimes you wondered why exactly you had a crush on him because stuff like these reminded you he was only a man. more like a man-child, but that was if you wanted to be nitpicky. 

“that’s illegal, you moron.” 

you swore you’d drown him one of these days.

with the goggles over your eyes you swam under the lane line to have a whole lane for yourself, because there was no way you’d fit in one lane with mingyu. 

“okay champ, let’s see-,” suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“je suis désolé, mais tu dois sortir de l'eau. les préparatifs pour la course vont bientôt commencer,” one of the volunteers was crouching by the edge of the pool with his hand outstretched in your direction. 

“uh,” you shot mingyu a quick look, “i’m sorry, je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand. the only french you managed to learn before coming to paris, which you figured would come in handy, and as it turned out - it did. a point for you. 

“the competition,” the guy scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “begin soon.” 

“do you want us to get out of the pool?” mingyu asked, pointing at him and you and then the outside of the pool. 

“yes, yes,” the volunteer nodded quickly. 

well, you could wave your race bye bye. 

maybe the universe didn’t want you and mingyu together, maybe all you were destined to be was friends? besides, one silly race wouldn’t make a difference, if anything, it would probably lead to you pulling a muscle, which would mean a big disaster with your eliminations right around the corner. 

your fate was to end up alone for the rest of your life, crying over a guy you could never have. typical. 

“shit,” mingyu sighed, taking off his goggles. “i really wanted to race you.” 

you sent him a quick smile, dismissing his teasing tone. the quicker you’d realise this wouldn’t work out the better for your poor heart. 

“yeah, that’s a bummer,” you said, grabbing onto the edge of the pool to pull yourself up. 

mingyu grinded his teeth and side eyed the volunteer. if it weren't for the dozens of people around you who were clearly starting to prepare for the race, he would have thrown the guy into the water with his own bare hands. 

“thanks for being a cockblock, dude.”

well, not literally, but this had to be the first time mingyu managed to talk to you without stuttering every other word and not acting that embarrassing. but no. someone had to sweep in and take this away from him. 

“be careful,” mingyu ran a hand over his face, and looked over to you, “the tiles might be slippery.” 

“you don’t say,” you said, and shot him a glare. “im not that-.” 

but before you could finish your sentence one of your hands slipped and you lost the grip, splashing back into the pool. 

“hey, hey,” mingyu immediately swam up to you, closing the gap between your bodies in seconds. “are you okay?” he put his arm around your waist, turning you around in his grip so you’d face him. 

shit.

“did you hit your head?” he asked quickly, taking off your cap. fuck, mingyu felt his lunch creeping back into his throat. if anything happened to you… 

“mhm, i think so,” you answered, disoriented. your vision was clearly unsteady and you were shaking in his embrace, though he didn’t know if that was due to the cold water or the hit. 

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hand gently over your head to look for any cuts or bruises. “we need to get you out of the water.” 

you nodded your head slowly, but that was a bad call, because it only made you more nauseous and made your vision even worse. 

“hey, don’t move. put your other arm around my neck and hold onto me,” mingyu said. 

“but i’m heavy.” 

“shut it or i’ll leave you here,” mingyu grumbled, and tightened his hold around you. 

with ease, as if he was born in the water, mingyu managed to get you to the edge of the pool with ladders, and called for help.

“i’m such a loser,” you mumbled, resting your head against his shoulder. “almost passing out in the middle of an olympic swimming pool,” you let out a bitter laugh, before whimpering. maybe making bad jokes right after almost cracking your skull open wasn’t a good idea. 

mingyu didn’t say anything but you could feel his body tense. 

“she hit her head on the tiles,” he said once the medics made their way over to you. 

they quickly helped him get you out of the water without causing you more pain and laid you on the stretcher. the medics whispered something between them, or maybe you were just so out of it that you couldn’t understand what they were saying, but you could clearly make out mingyu’s voice in between. 

suddenly, you felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, but your blurry vision made it impossible for you to see what exactly was going on. 

“min-mingyu?” you called out. 

“i’m here baby, don’t worry,” mingyu said, and reached for your hand, grasping it tightly so you’d know he was really right there next to you. 

“stop calling me that,” you said, your tone bossy as usual. 

“stop calling you what?” mingyu couldn’t help but giggle when he heard you scoff. good, that meant you weren’t that badly hurt. 

“baby.” 

“what if i don’t want to?” he asked, and ran a thumb over the back of your hand, smiling to himself when he felt your fingers wrap tighter around his.  

you shook your head, or at least you tried to. “then i’ll race you and if i win you’ll stop.” 

“you know i won’t let that happen,” he said softly. 

“stop messing with my heart, kim mingyu.” 

a champion, an olympics medalist, a man made of steel, and still, mingyu felt like he was melting under your gaze. your big eyes looking up at him, your soft lips parted in a slight gasp, your gentle fingers holding onto him for dear life…  

“i won’t,” he shook his head. “not until you stop messing with mine.” 

as it turned out, luckily for you, the impact didn’t cause much damage. “it caused panic more than anything else,” the doctor said. 

“so i’ll be able to race on monday, right?” you asked, twisting the rings around your fingers nervously. the olympics were something you sacrificed your whole life for - you couldn’t remember the last time you slept in, the last time you ate dinner with your family, the last time you had time for yourself, and if all of that would go to waste because of a stupid mistake… you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“don’t worry, you’ll be just fine for the race. i think your boyfriend overreacted a bit out there,” the doctor laughed. “maybe more than a bit.” 

you almost choked on the pills you were swallowing, your face burning with heat. the doctor feeding into your delusions was a big no no, and you definitely did not need that right now. 

“you might want to text him though, he was sitting outside the whole time we were running tests. had to send him back to the village,” he sighed, “he looked like a kicked puppy.” 

that was dangerous, and you needed to get out of there quickly. 

mingyu, on the other hand, couldn’t stop worrying. after the doctor sent him off, he didn’t really know what to do with himself, and he definitely didn’t know how he ended up sitting in front of the door to your room. 

god, he was being so pathetic. instead of telling you how and what he felt, he was acting like a lame highschooler trying to impress you with what? being a faster swimmer? mingyu was never good at flirting but this had to be his lowest low. 

„gyu? what are you doing here?” his head shot up, and there you were - safe and sound. no bandages, nothing. for the first time since he got out of that damn swimming pool he took in a deep, proper breath. 

“the doctor he, um…,” 

“i know.” 

“you know?”

“i know,” you nodded. why did he look so nervous all of a sudden? “shouldn’t you be at the gym? preparing for tomorrow?” 

right. the race. 

“i probably should,” more than “probably” to be honest. your trainer would most likely have killed him already if not for the fact that he was the best swimmer on the team. “but i needed to know that you were okay.” 

“you could’ve just texted, you know,” you said. why was he being so… un-mingyu?

he shook his head, and stood up to his full 6 feet 2. “let me put it this way,” he took a step towards you, “i needed to see if you were okay.”

was he really about to risk your whole friendship? all this time spent on getting to know you, your likes and dislikes, what annoyed you and how he could push your buttons to see that bright smile on your face that always made his day a bit better. he didn’t want to lose all of that. 

but… mingyu felt his hands reaching out for you on their own to make sure that you weren’t in pain anymore, to kiss any bump or scratch to make it better, to hold you close to his chest this evening and keep you safe from all the wet tiles. 

“listen,” he scratched the back of his neck. he needed to do something with his hands. “i have to tell you one thing, and please just let me say it because i don’t think i’ll have enough courage to say it ever again.” 

you nodded your head, your gaze slightly confused. 

it was now or never. 

“okay, so i know we’re technically only friends from work, but not really since we hang out otherwise, and we’ve known each other for how long now? three years? and that’s great, i love training with you, and going to competitions with you, and hanging out with you, but lately… or not lately, really. for a long time-,” 

„mingyu,” you sighed, but the boy kept on rambling. „min,” you tried again, to no avail. „gyu!” 

finally, the man in front of you fell silent, looking at you with eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“i,” you took a deep breath. you knew exactly where this was going. „i can’t do this right now,” you said, and watched the spark in mingyu’s eyes die out. “with what happened today, and the eliminations tomorrow… i just can’t deal with this right now,” god, this broke your heart. “i need some rest, and i need some sleep,” you added. “besides, i also have the relay tomorrow, so i need to focus. this is not only about me, but about the girls. i can’t let them down.”   

mingyu’s heart dropped. if he knew this would end like this, then why was he feeling so disappointed? but he couldn’t be mad at you, no. it wasn’t your fault you weren’t feeling the same, and it definitely wasn’t your fault for wanting some rest. the olympics meant so much to you, and he knew how excited you were for them - he wouldn’t take that happiness away from you. 

„of-of course,” mingyu said, though his voice, his body language, his gaze - his everything, screamed anything but „of course”. he nodded his head and shrugged. „i’ll see you later then.”

you quickly grabbed his arm before he could turn around. „gyu,” you said. „i can’t deal with this now, but i never said i couldn’t deal with this ever.” 

he was so cute, you couldn’t help but hide your smile behind your hand. with slightly dishevelled hair (probably from running his fingers through them too much), un-matching shirt and pants, which you were sure were from last season, and his mingyu smile that showed off his canines… you’d have to be stupid and blind not to have a massive crush on this man. 

„r-really?” 

you nodded your head.

“maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?” you said, and slid your hand down his arm to his hand. “after the eliminations?” 

mingyu looked down wide-eyed at your hand holding his. was this really happening? maybe he was the one to hit his head? his poor heart and fuzzy brain couldn’t actually believe that the girl he had been pining after for god knows how long was actually saying that… that she liked him back? huh, if this was a dream he hoped he’d never wake up. 

“yes,” he breathed. “we can do that.” 

“great,” you smiled, and mingyu felt his heart skip a beat. “you’ll be watching me tomorrow, right?”

“you know i will,” mingyu said, squeezing your hand, and this - your hand in his - this felt right. this was right, and this was how it was always supposed to be. “i always do.” 

and then he did something that almost knocked you off your feet. 

he quickly closed the gap between you, pushing your body gently against the door behind you, and placed a soft peck on your cheek. you almost didn’t notice how his strong arm had snuck around you, holding your waist in a featherlight touch that didn’t quite match his strong hands and big biceps, or how the other one cradled the side of your face, and how his thumb stroked your cheek. almost.

and it was only a kiss on the cheek. 

“good luck, baby.”

[artdcnaldson]

Tie Break || Art Donaldson x Reader ; Patrick Zweig x Reader

this can be read as a sequel to changeover or as a standalone :) enjoy <3

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v smut x2, f!recieving oral, handjob, creampie, cum eating), angst with a happy ending, infidelity, toxic relationships, everyone in this is kind of a horrible person, language obviously

Summary: It’s summer in Atlanta, 2011. For the second time in your life, you’re the clear second choice. When the opportunity arises, you find a temporary distraction in Art Donaldson.

A/N: FINALLY here it is! The 2011 Atlanta fic. They’re back, they’re older, they’re even more toxic. Let me know if you’re interested in a part 3!

It was hot, even though the sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon. It was a cloying, oppressive heat that made the stupid, business-casual top you wore stick to your skin. 

The article you were working on was halfway written, something you could knock out in the next hour if you really tried. Your drink was watered down from the heat, weak when it hit your tongue. A frown turned your lips, but you really shouldn’t have been drinking anyway.

"Working late?”

The voice was so familiar that you could’ve recognized it anywhere, any time. Art Donaldson was one of the most recognizable men in the country, but to you, he seemed so different. The boyishness was still there, but it lay beneath a new level of confidence.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to appear nonchalant, like it hadn’t been four years since you last spoke. “I’m on deadline. I’m writing a feature on Anna Mueller heading into the US Open next month.”

Without asking, he sat down across from you at the small bistro table. He was so close you could smell the minty gum he had been chewing. It nearly made you smile. Old habits die hard.

“So you write about tennis?” He asked, meeting your gaze. 

“I write about athletes,” you corrected. “I was going to be here anyway, and since Anna is heading for a Grand Slam, I thought it would be easy enough. Grab a couple of interviews, watch a few matches.”

He nodded, leaning back in the chair, trying his best to be causal in a situation that definitely wasn’t. You sipped again at your drink, peering at him over the edge of the glass. 

“You have a match tomorrow,” you said, as though he needed reminding. “Shouldn’t you be listening to shitty pop punk to get yourself psyched right now?”

A smile spread across his lips, and he looked so much like the guy you knew from college that it made your chest tug uncomfortably. Same hair, the same smile, the same crinkle at the edges of his eyes when he was amused by something. You couldn’t help but smile along with him, like the past four years were nothing. “I don’t do that anymore,” he said with a laugh. “Do you want another drink?”

You looked down at your glass, mostly water and thin ice cubes. “Rum and coke?” You asked, giving him a tiny smile. He nodded and disappeared towards the bar.

It felt strange, sitting there in the quiet, your article the furthest thing from your mind. Four years. It felt like yesterday and an eternity ago that you’d last spoken with him. He was a familiar stranger, nearly unknowable. 

Your cursor blinked a few more times before you shut your laptop and slid it back inside your beat-up work bag. 

“Running off?” He asked, catching you in the act of packing your things. You shook your head and accepted the fresh drink with a smile. “You said you were going to be in Atlanta anyway,” he said as he sat, spreading out, making himself comfortable in the shitty bar seating. “When you were talking about writing about Anna.”

You nodded. “Mhmm, I did,” you replied, chewing the inside of your lip nervously. His gaze was intense, falling just on the other side of casual. You felt tiny under that gaze, like you were guilty of a crime you didn’t know you’d committed. 

“And you’re here for Patrick?” The words were nonchalant, but you could hear the accusation beneath them, the history of the two of them just in one sentence. It turned something in your stomach, the possessiveness in his voice. You could hear it, even four years out.

The new drink was strong, but it was the perfect way to hide the distaste in your expression. The burn of liquor into your chest grounded you back in reality instead of the easy allure of nostalgia. “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “I try my best to go to all of his matches.”

Art narrowed his eyes, just slightly. There was still an element of exaggerated friendliness, the casual smile on his lips, the open body language. All of it masking the lingering resentment and hurt that was buried beneath mountains of nostalgia. Deep enough that neither of you had realized it was still there until you found yourselves face to face. There was an unspoken question, one that he didn’t want to ask, one that you didn’t want to answer. 

How long?

You took another drink. 

“Where is Patrick?” He asked, glancing around like he might materialize out of thin air.

“He went out for a smoke, or to walk around and clear his head, or something,” you said with a shrug. “I’m not his keeper. Where’s Tashi?”

His jaw clenched and he looked away— a sore spot. A scab you wanted to pick at until it bled, dig your nails in. Maybe that was your eighteen-year-old self talking. 

“You never used to let her get too far away from you,” you noted, mirth dripping from each syllable. “Bet you came down here looking for her. Your leash must’ve been just a little too loose this time and she slipped it.”

You took a long drink, nails tapping against the glass as you considered your words. Tashi wasn’t the type of woman who let a man hold her back. If you were trying to be more accurate, rather than just piss him off, you might’ve fixed the analogy. Art was the sad little puppy following her around. She tied his leash to a lamp post for a fucking break.

“Do you remember the day Tashi got injured?” He asked, changing the subject suddenly. 

You blinked slowly, appraising him. But his expression gave nothing away. “I do.”

A wry smile spread across his lips, and he met your gaze with a coldness that you didn’t recognize. Mean in the way injured animals like to snap at the nearest hand. “It was Patrick in your room that night, wasn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed, face falling at his words. “What?”

He made a face, something akin to skepticism, but crueler. It made your stomach turn. 

“You were fucking someone in your room,” he said plainly. “And I’ve always had a suspicion that it was Patrick. Was it?”

That didn’t do much to clear up your confusion. “You were there?”

He laughed, mirthless, and nodded. “I was, uh, sitting by the door like an asshole. I came to apologize, to beg for you back, but instead, I spent the night listening to my girlfriend getting fucked on the other side of the door.”

Annoyance flickered in your gaze. He knew of a wound of your own, and he relished in picking at it the way you’d relished in digging your fingers into his. “I wasn’t your girlfriend, Art.”

“Right, you weren’t. But you’re Patrick’s girlfriend now, is that it?”

Heat burned in your cheeks. Your relationship with Patrick was… tempestuous to say the least. Most of the time he was your boyfriend, but others he was just a friend that you could count on for a good fuck, sometimes not even a friend. At the moment, he was the former, but that could always change.

It wasn’t easy, being with someone whose emotions ran on an equally short fuse. You’d sound too much like his parents, or he’d devalue your work, or Patrick would forget to take out the trash in your apartment and you’d snap, or you’d mispronounce a word one too many times and it would drive him crazy. Insignificant things could feel big with him, because of him. For better or worse. 

“At the moment, yes.”

“At the moment.” He echoed, laughing like he was in on some joke you were painfully unaware of.

”That’s amusing to you?” You asked, raising a brow. 

He shrugged, picking at his jeans. “Your choice of words is interesting.” He lets that hang in the air before he meets your gaze again. “Do you think Patrick would’ve even noticed you if it hadn’t been for me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Does it matter?” You asked. “You realize that we’ve been together going on four years now, right? Broken up, dating, fucking, whatever. You realize that there may be more important things in our life than you?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. I think you know that whatever you have, it’s built on the fact that you were a warm body when he needed it. Just like you were for me.”

That arrogant expression, like he actually fucking knew anything about you anymore was the last straw. You stood suddenly, grabbing your bag. You weren’t Art Donaldson’s little lapdog anymore— you didn’t have to sit there and take all the shit he doled out. 

“Goodnight, Art. Thanks for the drink.”

It was funny, how your weaknesses were still so exposed. Art’s was Tashi, and it probably always would be. His desire to be seen, to impress, painted upon every lovely feature. And yours, raw and bleeding and obvious— the unbearable, visceral need to be wanted.

You made it to the elevator before you felt his presence behind you. Wordless, but so close it was suffocating. You jabbed the up button over and over in frustration, knowing it wouldn’t speed anything up. 

Art stepped into the elevator with you, so close you could feel the body heat radiating off of him. He always burned hot, like a human furnace. 

It was silent as the lift lurched upwards. You pressed against the back corner, watching the number of the floor increase one by one. 

“Patrick is with Tashi,” Art said without looking at you, just as the elevator opened on the floor of your room. You froze, swallowing hard. “I saw them in the hotel bar, then they left together. What do you think they’re doing right now?”

You shook your head dumbly, pulse thrumming in your throat. “Go fuck yourself, Art,” you said weakly, because what else was there to say? You stepped into the hallway— lit with dim yellow light so you couldn’t see where the wallpaper peeled and the carpet was stained.

“If you need somewhere to wait them out, and you will, I’m in room 13 on the seventh floor.” The elevator doors closed, and you were alone. 

The hallway was winding, and you felt a bad sort of anticipation of what you might find, like a sick feeling in your gut. You stood in front of the room, 306, and froze.

The door to your room was closed, no light shone from beneath the door, but you could hear them. Muffled, but clear enough. A pretty voice and breathy moans. Patrick’s laugh, the thud of something falling off the dresser.

Your room key was in your purse— you could’ve gotten it out and stopped it, but what good would that have done? You’d still spend the night humiliated, facing opposite walls as Patrick, lying in the same sheets he’d just fucked her in. 

You dropped the bag by the door and took a slow, shaky breath to calm yourself down. 

Tashi Duncan. She had lingered on the edges of your relationship with Patrick too. She was Patrick’s first choice, just as she’d been Art’s. You’d never blamed them for that, you knew where you stood, and you chose them anyway. 

It was easy to choose them when you thought that the threat was nonexistent— when distance made you feel safe. You could hear her and him, but it felt like mere static in your brain.

You knew how Art felt, back at Stanford. Sulking outside the door, unable and unwilling to stop what was happening on the other side. 

You were in the elevator before you realized you’d walked away. Shitty soft rock played over the speakers, and a poster on the wall advertised a continental breakfast. Your stomach turned uncomfortably. 

You knocked on the door— room thirteen, an unlucky number. Maybe it didn’t bode well. As you waited for the door to open, your nails tapped a staccato rhythm against your thigh.

Art opened the door like he’d been expecting someone else. Maybe he had half-expected you to interrupt and send Tashi back upstairs, but no. He got you standing at his door with fiery eyes and an expectant expression. 

Second choice, second choice, second choice.

Art kissed you for the first time in four years, and you let him. Not because you wanted to hurt Patrick or Tashi, but because you knew it would hurt you. His tongue pressed between the seam of your lips like he belonged there, licking into your mouth like he wanted to reclaim every part of you that Patrick had touched. You pushed him with a firm hand on his chest and he stumbled backward into the room. Despite everything, he smiled. 

His hotel room was nearly identical to yours and Patrick’s. But you didn’t have time to really take in the details when he had his tongue in your mouth, kissing you hungrily.

That afternoon, you kissed Patrick after he lost his match. You wondered if Art could still taste him on your tongue then, if he wanted to drown out the taste of him. 

It was different than you were used to. Four years with Patrick meant that you’d grown accustomed to certain ways that he did things— the intensity behind each kiss, each touch. His emotions— good, bad, in between— were never masked, never repressed. 

When Patrick kissed you, when he touched you, when he fucked you— both of you were laid completely bare. 

Art was different. When he kissed you it was through a certain level of performance, like he’d learned how from a searing romance film. In college, you’d believed that he kissed you like that because deep down, he did love you. Even at that moment, years out from your relationship with him, it muddled your brain.

Your sensible work heels had long since been kicked off by the door. Art’s fingers undid the button and zip of your jeans deftly, with a confidence that had only doubled since Freshman year. They wound up in a heap against the hotel dresser. 

In his haste to remove your (also sensible, and very business casual) button-down, he popped about half of the buttons off completely. 

“Sorry,” he said. The grin on his lips made you wonder if sorry was really how he felt. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Stop talking.” You pulled off your bra and lost it somewhere across the room in your haste. Art was pulling off his clothes— his hoodie and the shirt beneath. His jeans and shoes toed off and left to be dealt with later. 

He kissed you again, guiding you exactly where he needed. Your knees hit the back of the mattress and he eased you down without moving his lips from yours. When your head hit the sheets, you smelled perfume so sweet that it was nearly intoxicating. You turned your head, breathing deeply. Tashi. In this same bed, in this same spot. It made something stir inside you— right in your chest. A hint of wrongness, a hint of hurt. 

Art pulled back, moving his lips along your jaw, down to the junction of your throat. 

“Stop thinking,” he murmured against your skin, kissing down to your tits. “I don’t want you thinking about Patrick. Not when you’re with me.”

The words were mumbled against soft, supple skin. His eyes were intent as they looked up at you, the demand of momentary fidelity in his eyes. You wanted to slap that expression off of his face, or run your thumb along his cheek and hold his face in your hands. 

How was it fair that he asked you that when he’d lingered like a ghost on the edges of whatever it was that you and Patrick had? How was it fair for him to look at you like that?

He took a nipple into his mouth and you gasped as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. Soft kisses before he suckled softly. “Okay,” you gasped, lying through your teeth. “I’m only thinking of you.”

His hair was still long, kept the same way he wore it in school. Your fingers tangled in his hair like muscle memory, scratching against his scalp as he kissed along your skin with wet lips, treating your other breast with the same, hungry attention.

“Still so fucking hot,” he mumbled against your skin. “Should’ve— fuck— should’ve kept you. What do you want, huh? Tell me.”

Your mind swam with possibilities, but you didn’t even know where to begin. Your mind was stuck on his previous words. Should’ve kept you. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?  “I don’t know,” you replied, completely honest. “Whatever you want.”

He accepted that easily— it was so similar to how you’d been for him in college. You gasped as he kissed down your sternum, then your stomach. His lips found the waistband of your panties and he grinned, tugging at the lace with his teeth, letting it snap back against your hip. 

He peeled your panties down slowly, letting his hands trail down the expanse of your legs. The possessiveness of the touch sent a thrill up your spine. His lips grazed along your skin, from your ankle, up your calf, then your knee. Your legs spread instinctively, welcoming him right back where he knew he belonged. His pretty lips trailed wet kisses up your thighs, stopping just where you wanted him. 

You expected him to rush. He’d seen Patrick and Tashi leave, which meant they’d finish before you two, more likely than not. There was every reason in the world to make things quick— to fuck you and make you leave. 

Instead, he took his time with you. Soft, teasing kisses peppered on the supple skin of your thighs before he nuzzled into your cunt. The first delve of his tongue was slow and exploratory, tasting the arousal that had pooled at your core. 

”God, you still taste so fucking sweet.”

Another thing you’d nearly forgotten about Art— in all things, he was methodical.

He started with kitten licks at your clit— light brushes with his tongue that made you whimper needily for more. His tongue circled you there, and he relished in the way your fingers tugged on his hair at the sensation. 

Then he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking with more pressure until a strangled moan squeezed past your lips. Your thighs tensed on either side of his head, holding him there as he alternated between slow, soothing licks and firm suction.

It was frustrating, how wet you were. Art had brought out the worst in you, turned you into something that left you feeling genuinely embarrassed. And still, you were slick, dripping down to the sheets. A mess of arousal and Art’s spit. 

When he eased a finger into your cunt, it slid in like your body was made to fit whatever he could give you. At that point, you very well could have been. What were you, if not an object orbiting in the atmosphere of his life?

He looked up at you, seeming so fucking intent on making it feel good for you as he crooked his finger. It rubbed against the soft, spongy spot within you and you cried out, eyes rolling back. 

“That’s it, huh?” He cooed as he pressed a second finger inside of you. Your arm was slung over your face. You couldn’t let yourself keep looking at him when he was looking at you the same way he had in college. The same fucking expression that got your head all mixed up in the first place. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your clit and you whimpered. “I know it feels good, baby, just relax.”

His fingers thrust within you with a slow, deep pressure as he continued to make out with your clit. It was always so good with him— you’d nearly forgotten how easy it was for him to bring you to the edge. 

When you came, it wasn’t like what you had grown used to with Patrick— sudden and overwhelming, like it had been ripped from some secret place within you. It was intense, but slow to build, seeming to last forever as Art’s fingers and tongue worked you through it. Your breath was shaky as he pulled back, pretty mouth wet with your arousal.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, looking up at you expectantly. 

You should’ve stopped— rationally, you knew that it was best to turn back and quit before you fucked up the situation beyond repair. 

But it was Art. He could’ve had anyone else, but he wanted you. Maybe not forever, or even longer than that night. But for then. 

You shook your head softly. “No. Do you think we should stop?”

His fingers moved between your thighs, circling your clit. “We definitely should. You’re with Patrick.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering as he caressed you with featherlight touches. “Don’t fucking talk about him,” you said, but your words came out with no bite. How could they, when he was playing with your body like a favorite toy?

“No?” He asked. He was wearing a smug sort of expression. “You don’t want me to talk about your boyfriend, huh? Too personal?”

You moaned as he applied more pressure at the apex of your thighs, making your cunt clench and ache to be filled. 

“Does Patrick know how much you’ve missed me?” He asked. Your breath caught in your throat, and he just smiled. “I bet he does. I think he knows that if he just drops my name in a conversation, your pussy gets wet.”

You moaned softly at his words, chest heaving with soft pants. You weren’t even sure if it was true, but it felt like it could’ve been then. He leaned down, his words spoken close to your ear.

“I can go slow. Make it last for you.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver. 

You nodded eagerly, turning your head to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was slow, like you had all the time in the world. His tongue against yours, the weight of his body on top of you, the feel of him hard, pressing against your thigh. 

He sat back to strip off his boxers, and you relished in the sight of him laid bare before you. You’d nearly forgotten how pretty he was— big and flushed nearly red with need. It made your heart hammer with nerves; your excitement and shame and need rolled into one messy, electrifying tangle. 

His hair flopped into his eyes as he held himself over you, just like you remembered. You reached up, brushing it out of his eyes with a tender hand. His lips brushed against the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse thrummed in your veins. 

“Tell me you’ve missed me.”

Heat flooded your entire body, as you repeated the words. “I missed you, Art.” You reached between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his cock, and guiding it towards your entrance. He moaned and bucked instinctively into your hand.

”Tell me you want me to fuck you, no one else.” You could hear the implications in his words. Tell me you want me, not Patrick. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

Art pressed himself inside of you, sinking into the welcoming warmth of your cunt. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him closer, deeper, until his balls pressed firm against you and there was nothing else to give.

He thrust shallowly, rocking against a spot deep within you, one that made your eyes flutter with each brush against it.

“You’re so tight still,” he moaned, lips moving against your throat. “Pussy’s made just for me.”

He touched you like he hadn’t forgotten how you felt or what you needed. Spoke to you like you were one of his possessions.

You lost yourself in it— the sweet, filthy words spoken against your skin, and the rhythm of his body moving against yours. His lips captured yours with a hungry insistence, like he could convey four years' worth of unspoken words with a few brushes of his tongue against yours. 

When he pulled back, lips spit slick and looking so pretty, you thought maybe there was a sort of understanding between the two of you.

His head fell back as he sped up his thrusts, chasing his release. There wasn’t time to stretch it out, to spend as much time as you could with each other’s bodies. 

“Need you to cum,” he said, sliding a hand between your thighs to rub your still-sensitive clit. Your cunt was squeezing him tight, body aching for it, for him, brought to the edge simply because he’d asked for it. “C’mon— you get so tight when you cum, need to feel it again.”

It was like your body was hardwired to give him exactly what he wanted. You came with broken moans of his name and legs squeezing him closer, deeper. Your chest heaved with shaking breaths and punched out whimpers as he kept fucking into you.

He was practically crushing you with his weight, pinning you down, groaning into the junction of your shoulder. 

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” his words vibrated against skin tacky with a thin sheen of sweat.

”Want you to.” Your arms slung around his back, holding him close to you. “I’ve got an IUD, so you can— you can cum.”

His lips met yours as he came, with a pretty moan into your open mouth and slow, messy kisses that made you want to just melt into him and stay that way forever. 

Spent, he rolled over and turned on a lamp at the bedside. The alarm clock announced the time in a dim red glow— five past one.

You lay there, damp between your thighs from the mixture of your releases, unsure of what to do. It was cold beneath the hotel AC. He was peering over at you, wearing an expression you were scared to dissect.

When his hand touched your arm, you nearly flinched. Your breath caught in your throat as he ran his thumb along your skin, so sweetly that you felt that same discomfort tug at your chest. 

“C’mere,” he said, an offer. His arm was splayed over the pillows, giving you the perfect spot to lie down and press yourself against his side. To pretend like you belonged there.

But you didn’t belong there. You belonged four floors down with Patrick. That’s where you had belonged for four years. The reality of what you’d done had set in quickly, and you knew you needed to get out of Art’s room. 

”Art,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I have to go.”

He nodded and sat up against the headboard. You watched him grab his boxers and pull them back on, a strange smile on his face. He must’ve sensed your confusion, even without you saying. 

“It’s funny how things change,” he said. “Here I am, asking you to stay for once.”

You didn’t say anything as you picked up your clothes from around the room, redressing as you recovered each piece from its hiding spot around the room. Your shirt was unsalvageable, so you grabbed Art’s. He had plenty of brand sponsors that would jump to replace it, and Patrick wouldn’t recognize it.

“I loved you, I think,” he said suddenly. “Back in college.”

You froze, arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him. “Art—“

“No, I did. I loved you, I just did it all wrong.”

“Art, just stop,” you said firmly. Embarrassment hit you all at once— the guilt of what you’d done, and the shame over who you’d done it with. Your eyes stung as you looked at him. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

His lips twitched, dipping into a frown, then back into as close to a neutral expression as he could manage. “I just thought you should know. It’s only fair.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “Fair? Jesus Christ, you really haven’t changed, Art.” 

His expression fell completely. It looked like it had back in the hotel bar— icy. “I haven’t changed? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sighed as you looked at him. “It means that if this were Stanford, that would’ve made me crawl right back into bed, lay by your side, and daydream about what it could mean for us. If one day I might be Mrs. Art Donaldson. It means that you say these sweet things to me every time you can feel me slipping away, but they mean absolutely nothing. We’re not nineteen anymore, Art. I’m not leaving Patrick to be your plaything again.”

His jaw tensed, and he looked down at the bed briefly while he picked at loose threads on the sheets. “You think that’s what I want?”

You frowned. “I think you want what Patrick has.”

He scoffed. “Patrick doesn’t even want what he has,” he said, relishing in the wounded look on your face. “If he did, he wouldn’t be fucking my fiancée right now.”

Fiancée. You felt stupid for not knowing it, but you swallowed down your hurt and met his gaze. “I guess we’re both going to have to be content with being the second choice.” You slipped on your shoes and went for the door. “Good luck with your match tomorrow, Art. I sincerely hope that I never have to see you again.”

The hallway felt colder when you stepped outside of the room and shut the door firmly behind you. A very big part of you wanted to go back, to knock and apologize and grovel like you might have when you were a freshman.

Maybe you hadn’t grown up that much after all. 

The elevator was playing Billy Joel. You leaned against the side of the elevator, relishing in the cold against your sticky skin. When the doors opened on your floor and you stepped out, you blinked in surprise. 

Tashi stood in front of you for the first time since college, looking just as stunning as you remembered, probably more so. Her hair was pulled up, slightly damp at the ends. Her eyes flicked down to your shirt, Art’s shirt, you swallowed as an understanding passed between the two of you— wordless, because what was there to say at that point?

”You left your laptop in the hallway,” she said, skipping formalities. “I took it inside so it wouldn’t get stolen.”

“Okay,” you said, chewing on your lip. She stood there like she expected something more. You felt her surveying you, and froze as she reached forward and rubbed at your bottom lip.

“He could’ve at least cleaned you up a bit,” she said. Her fingers delicately fixed your hair, tucking it back into place. She wiped a smudge of lipstick from the side of your mouth. Once there was nothing left to fix, she looked at you one last time and nodded. “You should be fine now.”

Before you could process that, she stepped into the elevator, and you were left alone in the hallway. When you made it to the room, the door was cracked open, so you let yourself in.

Patrick was on the balcony smoking a cigarette, a towel slung low around his waist. The bed was a fucking wreck, not that he seemed to mind. 

When the door clicked shut, he stubbed out the cigarette he was smoking and joined you back in the room. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” He asked. His jaw tensed as he looked at you, like he was ready if you were going to start a fight.

“I just want to go to bed, Patrick,” you said, annoyed by how wobbly and pathetic you sounded. 

He stepped forward and kissed your forehead. “Okay. We’ll go to bed.”

You kicked off your clothes, but left on Art’s hoodie. Patrick didn’t ask where it came from, or what happened to what you were wearing earlier. You knew he already knew, that he could tell the moment you walked in. He dropped the towel onto a heap on the floor, climbed into the bed, and held out his arms for you.

A stronger person would’ve told him to fuck off, but you weren’t a stronger person. You nestled into his side and felt the hot sting of tears in your eyes. 

He rubbed your back soothingly and kissed your forehead. The sheets smelled like Tashi, he smelled like hotel soap, and you smelled like Art’s cologne. 

“Do you want room service in the morning?” He asked softly.

“Patrick—“

“I’m serious. We can have breakfast in bed, do some tourist-y shit, maybe we’ll go watch a couple of matches, then come back and—“

“Are we supposed to just forget what happened?” You interrupted.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” He kissed your forehead, tender, sweet. “I’ll tell you everything if that’s what you want.”

You met his gaze. “Do you… do you want to know? About Art?”

He went quiet as he played with the ends of your hair. “Did it make you feel any better?” He finally asked. 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Then it didn’t.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “No?”

You shook your head, sighing softly as his kisses trailed down, over your nose, to the sides of your mouth. “No. It was a mistake.”

”Tell me about it,” he said, murmuring against your jaw. “Tell me how he touched you.”

You shivered, tilting your head to give him more access. Your nails scratched softly against his scalp as he sucked bruises onto your throat. 

“He was desperate,” you said, heart hammering as you began recounting it to Patrick— your boyfriend. There was no world in which he should’ve wanted to hear about it… and yet. He moaned against your throat, encouraging you, wanting to know more. “Kissed me like he wanted to taste you in my mouth, like he wanted to overpower you.”

Patrick moved his lips to yours, kissing you with a sloppy brush of his tongue against yours. “Like that?”

You shook your head and leaned in, deepening the kiss with slow laps of your tongue into his mouth. He moaned softly, matching your pace in a way that was rare, but made butterflies dance around in your stomach. He pulled you on top of him— hands roaming from the backs of your thighs to squeeze your ass as he deepened the kiss. It was just as slow and sweet as before, but you could sense the need and hunger behind it.

You pulled back, just enough to remove your lips from his. Both of your breaths came in needy pants. You weren’t sure why you were enjoying this, but you were, so you kept going. “He took off my clothes, and laid me down on the bed.”

Patrick moaned, chasing your lips. You sat back and just looked at him— lying there with still-damp curls, his pupils blown with lust. His cock was hard, resting against his stomach, precum beading at the tip.

You pulled off Art’s hoodie and tossed it across the room, relishing in the way Patrick’s eyes raked over every bit of exposed skin like it was the first time he’d seen it. “He ate me out, made me cum on his fingers first, then again while he was inside of me,” Patrick’s breath caught, just for a moment. Desire, or jealousy, or both flickered across his gaze. “He fucked me like he wanted me to fall in love with him again.”

Patrick’s chest was heaving as you moved a hand between your bodies, grasping his cock in your hand, stroking slowly. “Is that how you fucked Tashi? Like you wanted her to pick you instead of her fiancé?” He moaned as your thumb ran over his slit, smearing the precum that had begun to dribble out. 

“No,” He groaned. You nodded encouragingly, squeezing him tighter in your fist. “Fuck. I fucked her like I wanted her to know she made a mistake. Made her cum until she tapped out”

You ran a thumb over his bottom lip, tugging slightly. “With this pretty mouth, huh?” He nodded, wordlessly. “And with this?” You gave a slow stroke of his dick, making him buck up into your fist. Another nod. 

“Show me.”

Patrick’s brows furrowed in disbelief. “Show you?”

You nodded and continued stroking him. “I told you about Art, so I want you to show me how you fucked Tashi.”

You recognized the fucking insanity of what you were asking, but you didn’t care. It was a strange form of closure— closing the circle, or whatever. 

“Fuck, okay. Lay back,” he said, patting your thigh. You slid off his lap and settled atop the sheets, watching him expectantly. 

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties, and he slid them down slowly. “Fuck.” Your cheeks flooded with heat as he held the sodden fabric up, wet and sticky with Art’s cum. He groaned and hooked your thighs over his shoulders. “That’s… god, that’s really fucking hot, baby.”

Oh. The mix of embarrassment and desire was something new— burning hot in the pit of your stomach as Patrick licked at your pussy, tasting the evidence of your arousal mingling with Art’s release. He moaned against you, holding you so tightly that his fingers dimpled your thighs. 

His tongue lapped at your entrance, pushing into your cunt as deep as he could manage, then back to licking at your clit. It was messy— a combination of spit and cum and your juices.

“Fuck!” You cried out, tugging his hair as he sealed his lips around your clit. He moaned loudly against you, encouraging you to do it again, the fucking masochist. 

He redoubled his efforts, pulling you closer, moaning against your cunt. It was like he wanted to devour you, to lick up every bit of Art that was left inside of you. You wanted him to try— you wanted him to replace every part of Art that was left in your body and soul.

“Patrick,” you gasped. He murmured an mhmm against your pussy. Eyes closed, right at home between your thighs, lost in the taste of you. “Need you inside.”

He planted one, two sloppy kisses to your clit before he pulled back, his lips shiny with your arousal. He wiped the mess away with the back of his hand, smirking down at you. “You need me, huh?”

You nodded, chest heaving with each panting breath. Patrick sat down at the headboard and patted his thigh. “Prove it.”

You sat up, crawling up the bed until you were straddling his lap. “You made her do all the work?” 

He laughed, running his hands up your thighs to squeeze your ass, tug you closer. “I didn’t make her do anything.” Patrick had a hand wrapped around his cock, and you moaned softly as he guided it between your thighs to notch at your entrance. 

You sank down slowly, forehead pressed against his as you took inch after inch. “Fuck,” you breathed. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his as you gave a slow roll of your hips. “Fuck. You’re so deep, Pat. Feels so good.”

His head fell back against the headboard as you began to ride him in earnest. “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned, still wearing that fucking smirk, even balls deep inside of you. “That’s it, baby, take what you need.”

And you did. The way he was looking at him was proof enough, he was eating up every fucking second of you fucking yourself on him, using him like a toy. 

Your noises were near-pornographic— Right there, fuck, you’re so big baby, so fucking deep.

The poor soul next door slammed on the wall, begging for you to just shut the fuck up. Patrick silenced you with a hungry kiss— a mess of tongues and spit. His fingers moved on your clit, pulling you towards the edge with desperate need. 

“Close,” you gasped. 

He nodded, moving his fingers faster. “I know you are. I’ve got you.” 

You collapsed on top of him as you came— hips canting weakly as he worked you through it. He thrust up into your tight walls, groaning at the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock. 

“Fuck, you feel so perfect,” he groaned, burying his face into the junction of your throat. “Gonna cum— fuck—“

You moaned softly at the feeling of him spilling inside of you— the soft pulse of him, the warmth of his cum flooding your cunt. You stayed on his lap, kissing his freckled nose, his eyelids, his mouth. 

When you finally moved off of him, you whimpered at that loss of fullness, and of the slick mess seeping out between your thighs. If you were smart, you would’ve gone and cleaned up, but there was nothing more you wanted than to lay there in Patrick’s arms and fall asleep. 

Whatever. You’d leave housekeeping a very generous tip. He sighed contentedly as you lay there— like you were made to fit against him perfectly.  A warm hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, and you felt so at home, even in an Atlanta hotel. 

“I love you, you know that?” He asked.

You looked up and nodded. “I know. I love you too.”

You found yourself staring up over at Patrick with a stupid, persistent smile on your face. He turned to watch you watching him, wearing a matching grin on his face. It was hard to tell who started laughing first— you or Patrick. At the absurdity of it all, at yourselves. 

“God, we’re so messed up,” you said, with another laugh.

He nodded. “Really messed up, but whatever. Apparently your brain isn’t even fully developed until you’re 25.”

“Great, so we have one more year until we’re normal, rational adults.” He laughed, holding you against his chest. 

He reached over and kissed your forehead. You were so sticky and gross that you really needed a shower, but, again— it was a tomorrow problem.

It fell quiet, and you could feel yourself slipping into comfortable drowsiness when Patrick finally spoke up. “Are we going to be okay?”

You blinked slowly. With your hand resting on his chest, you could feel his heart thudding just beneath your palm.

When you were twenty, you met Patrick’s parents. Crowded into his childhood bed with your head resting against his chest, his heart pounded as he apologized for the intense grilling you’d received that night at dinner. It was the first time you ever felt like his bravado had been shaken, like you were seeing through to the core of him. 

You always knew you would be the one to say you loved him first— it was just the way things went. “I don’t care if they like me,” you had assured him. “I love you.” His heart beat harder, faster. He didn’t say it back until two days later, when he was fucking you in that very same bed— forehead to yours, skin sticky with sweat. “I love you,” breathed into your mouth like air. 

When you were twenty-two, you moved into an apartment in Manhattan and Patrick followed like a housecat— no rent, no job, just company and a mouth to feed. The tour wasn’t going well, and you were working for a shitty, clickbait news site that hardly covered the cost of your place. 

Things were good, mostly. Comfortable, domestic. Patrick tried to be a good boyfriend, you tried to be a good girlfriend. Both of you were trying to figure out what that meant for the other as best as you could. Patrick would bring you flowers from the corner store and take you out for drinks and dancing on weekends. You’d drive out on holidays to visit his family and wind up leaving early to go back to the comforts and peace of your apartment. 

When you could, you’d follow him out to tournaments. If he won, he’d take you out with the prize money. If he lost, you’d take him back to the hotel to cheer him up.

On rough days, one of you would come home to the apartment and pick a fight over laundry, or a dish left in the sink, or even what he’d left on TV, and the other would give it back tenfold. Your neighbors would beat on their walls in annoyance as you yelled at each other, until one of you slammed a door and sulked in another room for a few hours, or you had make-up sex that gave the neighbors another reason to bang on their walls. 

The breakups were infrequent but severe. You’d kick Patrick out, he’d live out of his car, or in a motel, or fuck off to some tennis tournament that you’d previously promised to go to. One of you always broke first, returning to the other with promises of love, and to do better.

You did love each other, really. And things usually got better. It was just easy to live with your feelings dialed up to a ten where Patrick was involved: bigger good moments, worse bad ones. 

Your career had vastly improved. Patrick had moved up in the rankings, only slightly, but it was something. You could afford a bigger apartment in a nicer area, maybe get a dog. And you didn’t just want those things alone, you wanted them with him. 

You pressed a kiss to the center of his chest and nodded. “We’ll be fine,” you assured. It felt like the truth.

He nodded, looking down at you. His freckles were so much more pronounced after tournament after tournament in the blazing sun. “Yeah, probably.”

The next morning, you both got the continental breakfast you’d seen in the elevator while housekeeping dealt with the aftermath of the previous night. You did tourist-y shit— went to a museum, found a nice spot for lunch.

At the end of the day, you sat in the oppressive Atlanta heat with Patrick and watched Art Donaldson win his tennis match. You and Patrick left early, fucked in the backseat of his car, and decided to head home early. 

As you started the drive back, you held his hand over the center console and listened to a shitty mix CD with songs he’d ripped off of LimeWire. You gave him shit when Kelly Clarkson followed Lil Wayne, but you both sang along to every fucking word. 

You were right. You and Patrick would probably be fine.

[anakinsdove]

𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!padawan!reader

summary: Your master is horny and frustrated, he looks for release at a nasty gloryhole in coruscant… only to find out that that perfect pussy he’s fucking belongs to his padawan.

c/w: gloryhole, p in v, masturbation, power imbalance (very nasty idgf im sorry im horny)

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 2-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰: 1,838

He’s frustrated, Anakin won’t hide it anymore, he even yelled at you this morning, but as soon as he saw your pretty eyes pout at him he regretted it, it’s not even your fault, you’re learning, he’s your master, he’s supposed to teach you, it’s just… you jumping around and swinging your lightsaber does something to him… and he knows it shouldn’t.

It doesn’t matter anymore, how hard and fast he fucks his fleshlight, how hard he grinds against his mattress trying to chase an unsatisfactory high that leaves him as soon as it arrives, the painful dry orgasms he craves and hates, how painfully hard he grips his cock, nothing is enough, not anymore, he craves something else.

someone else

Someone’s pussy he knows he shouldn’t even think about, but he wonders… he wonders if someday he’ll be able to fuck it… how tight and wet you must feel around his cock… could you even take it? Could his sunshine of padawan handle him? He’ll be gentle, he’ll be rough, he’ll be anything you want him to be

Anakin sits on his bed late at night, however this is coruscant, theres always some sort of party going on somewhere, bars, loud noises and music, flashing lights, even nasty gloryholes, this planet is wild… the Jedi temple is luxurious and quiet on the surface…. But in the lower levels of coruscant there are… some interesting things happening, but he’s a Jedi, he knows it’s not right, he’s not sure what part isn’t right, but there’s something that doesn’t click.. maybe it’s the fact that paying for some services are just not what he wants, he wants your stupid creamy fucking pussy wrapped around his cock… what would you call him? Master? Anakin? And there’s the other fact that it’s avoid being recognized with his Jedi robes and his lightsaber… he must go undercover if he wants to get what he wants.

As anakin prepares himself for an adventure he takes a peek of the empty hallways at the Jedi temple, everyone asleep, everyone doesn’t have the same problem as him… it’s quiet and peaceful… he remembers that place, Obi wan and him tracked a criminal a few alleys away, the discrete yet inviting place hiding beneath the shadows… *is that?* *Don’t even say it Anakin….* Obi wan said with an unamused expression… of course it fucking is.

And now his feet has finally led him here….

The first thing her sees is lady.. well only her hands.. her face is covered by a piece of wood, completely anonymous… great, like this he’ll just have to imagine it’s you… he hope it does the trick, he hands her some credits without saying much… then he takes a deep breathe *Focus Anakin… focus* he tells himself… but the loud slapping noises and moans keep distracting him, he feels some sort of sense of guilt, he knows he’s better than this, but again he’s not… and the last thing he thinks before opening that stained curtain is… Obi wan should never know this… Y/N should never know this….

And finally he sees legs spread and in display… the wood creaks beneath his feet, the loud moans Turing of his brain, men acting like animals as they fuck a pussy, they’re in heat, just like him… he even sees some men on their knees eating out some women… interesting… who said chivalry doesn’t exist anymore?

He stops in front a pair of legs… all pretty and spread wide, inviting, a puffy clit that begs to be touched and rubbed nicely, fuck… those pretty legs look just like yours… just like yours… when you swirl around and he takes a small glance of that set of thighs under your skirt…

But he’s nervous… the consent has been already given right? He doesn’t have to talk to her or even know her name… it doesn’t fucking matter because she’s not you… he holds onto her thighs squeezing softly as the girl adjusts slightly feeling that she’s about to have some company, and just as his touch arrived is gone again as they leave goosebumps, he unbuttons his pants slower that he should’ve, he grasps his cock over his boxers and releases it giving himself a few strokes to get himself rock hard, fuck he’s about to get it… he needs it so so so so so fucking bad, he needs her, he…

He rubs his cock against her clit, slapping his tip against it gently as he hears a small gasp behind… *cute* he thinks to himself… fuck it he deserves this.

He pushes himself all the way in

Grabbing onto her ankles and starting with a relentless peace, the girl cries out, he should’ve given her some time to adjusts but he just couldn’t control himself… he pushes his hips forward trying to get his dick as deep as possible as he throws his head back… “fucking- he’ll…” he hopes he’s not fucking a virgin but this girl feels like one, she feels the way you would’ve feel wrapped around him, you’re so… you’re completely devoted to him, your life is Jedi training with your master anakin, missions with Anakin, free time with Anakin… you���re his, you’re his you’re his and only his… then why is he fucking this random girl? Why won’t you love him the way he loves you so he could be fucking you instead… this infuriates him as he pistons her harder… faster, his fingers digging into her skin leaving marks, he doesn’t know if it’s allowed or not.

He huffs and growls trying to control his anger… sweet moans filling his ears and emptying his thoughts… fuck she sounds just like you

He feels a deep connection to this girl he’s fucking, the force, something? Or it’s just her tight pussy? Gummy walls massaging him so fucking nice, his balls pounding agains her cute asshole, he chuckles as he watches her hips struggle against the hardwood, struggling to stay still, he licks his fingers and starts massaging her puffy clit, rubbing nice and slow… nice and slow, contrasting with his brutal pace

Y/n, Y/n, Y/n… One day he’s going to take you…. One fucking day…

A bead of sweat falls from his forehead, he ignores the noisy looks from people as they see the young hot man fucking the young hot woman like an animal, his hips move expertly against yours, he knows what he’s doing and it shows, and there’s not much to do than to trust roughly to fuck his frustration out, he loves this, the feeling but he wants more, a deeper connection, to look into your eyes as he fucks you, your nails digging in his back as he fucks you so hard it hurts…

He pushes herself deeper as the girl cries out because his tip is kissing her cervix a painful kiss.

This girl is wet… and she’s getting wetter every seconds, he feels the little splashes her pussy is making against his thighs… cute.. she’s squirting, anakin rubs her clit faster, you would arch your back right now wouldn’t you? If it were you obviously… he sees the girls hips raise a little and he knows she’s arching, her pretty feet shake over his shoulders as he keeps pounding her

His hips falteres as he nears his release, cock twitching and pulsating nice inside her velvety pussy

“Keep going!”

Shit, her voice even sounds like yours and he knows he’s imagining it because he’s whipped but this only enhances his experience… he’s breathing heavily, he’s panting as he tries to keeps some noises from escaping but they do.. and finally he cums… she squirts and it’s all fireworks and aftershocks, spasms and pure pleasure, his legs wobble, he put on quite a show….

He pants and pants until his breathing finally even, he feels at peace, what every orgasm should be like, not like those painful and dry ones he gives himself, he sees his cum dripping from the girls pussy, fuck, he didn’t even pull out… his head is pounding and he holds the girls thighs tighter… he feels… he feels a connection…. A big one… a deep one… a nice one… he buttons up his pants and gets on his knees, like an spell has been casted on him, he spread her legs even wider and dives in, he moans at the taste as he gives her a long lick, his lips instantly wrapping around her clit… he licks his cum out of her, he’s possessed, eyes rolling back into his head as he feels the girls fingers tangling on his hair…. Cute little whines can be heard, he’s obviously overstimulating her but… he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care.

He forced his eyes to open and he looks up and sees her fingers now resting over her stomach

And he sees the delicate bracelet around her wrist….

One that he happens to share with you

His eyes widen as he stands up immediately

“Y/n” he says loud enough for you to hear as his words get drowned into the loud sex noises…. The humid air and the smell of sex are prominent.

“Im sorry master” you say apologetic with that little voice of yours, one that indicates that you know you did something wrong but you’re not sorry for it

Now everything makes sense, he told you about this place a few months ago when Obi wan and him found it… the urge the intense craving and the way his legs lead him here, the connection that he felt to this person… why he was drawer to this pretty set of thighs.

It was all you, you lead him here, taking advantage of your connection through the force…

And he fucking loves it

He dives back in savoring your pussy, biting your button delicate and tongue fucking your hole as he tastes himself, his tongue exploring your folds… your fingers tangle around his locks as you cry out again, your legs close around his head and your back arches… perfect perfect, so fucking perfect.

He feels your back arch again and your moans get louder

You’re so close… so so close.

And he’s going to drag you to the edge

And he’s going to make you cum again

Your master Anakin Skywalker is devouring you like a mad man

And it’s okay

“Master master!” You cry out

An hour later you come out of the place as Anakin waits for you in a dark alley, he sees your with your coat and your wobbly legs… the walk back home is quiet, too quiet… no words exchanged, the aura is heavy yet not uncomfortable.. he leads you inside the Jedi temple and you walk to his quarters… a punishment, not in a sexual way, a lecture… something awaits… he pushes you inside and the door locks….

Your heels echoe in the darkness as his arms wrap around your torso… and you breathe in relief.

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

TAGS: @espinathena-17 @skywqlkergf

[imfinereallyy]

hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

[xjulixred45x]

Jjk yanderes (gojo, choso, Nanami.. etc) with darling who just doesn’t give a damn about them being a yan. Like the yandere can kill someone or be extremely clingy, and the darling is just like 🤷‍♀️ cool who cares. Like they just accept it and continue, not rlly caring about how bad of a person their yandere is to other people, as long as they’re good to darling. If yan is extremely clingy, or “nicely” pressure darling to move in with them, darling is just like “ah okay 🤷‍♀️ free rent ig”

I live for willing darling supremacy

Yandere Satoru Gojo/Kento Nanami/Choso Kamo x Darling who dosen't care that they are Yandere

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: neutral

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, unhealty mindset, overbearing behavior, overprotection, darling is willing and is totally okay with Yandere being Yandere

Choso Kamo

• AWWWW CHOSO IS DEFINITELY THE BEST YADERE ON THE LIST.

• Not only is he a respectful Yandere who won't do anything Darling isn't comfortable with, but he's so damn sweet it's almost diabetic.

• In general, Choso is the most likely to have a willing Darling, because Choso probably doesn't even fall in love with a “normal person” in the first place.

• Most likely a curse user, for example, or with a strange ability that makes them socially rejected. Precisely generating a mutual empathy that evolves into something more.

• In Choso's case, he has never seen REAL romantic relationships before, he has no idea how to approach his romantic interest, so he ends up showing his affection in unorthodox ways.

• Like, for example: watching them in the middle of the night as they arrive home safely and without problems (if so, he will happily get rid of the problem).

• Give very personal gifts or bizarre gifts (that may or may not be stained with something red).

• Even going so far as to kidnap the reader if things get bad with the Curse users and he needs to “protect” them more closely.

• Choso genuinely doesn't realize how creepy and unhealthy all of this is, he rationalizes and justifies it with his own young mentality. He does not do it out of malice, it is genuine love, but tainted with misdirected actions.

• For the same reason, he doesn't even see anything strange in the fact that the reader is chill with the whole kidnapping. Just because it's the first time he's done this, was they supposed to react differently?

• Choso is so hungry for acceptance and affection that when the reader gives it to him without reservation, he simply melts and can't handle himself anymore. He had wanted this for so long and he didn't even know it.

• Choso is loving, he respects his Darling's wishes and tries to get them to act like his version of a “normal” couple.

• Probably the only Yandere on this list who would listen to the reader's recommendations and ideas, precisely because he knows that they have no malice. And like I said before, Choso prioritizes his partner's comfort above everything else, so he takes their opinion very seriously (LEARN SOMETHING GOJO)

• The most emotionally intelligent of the three, ironically. He is the oldest of ten children and is definitely good at comforting Darling. Always with open arms and dry shoulders.

• Protective at lethal levels, he will not blink to kill large numbers of people if they come between him and Darling.

• In general, he doesn't realize it at first, but it doesn't like it affects him in the long term. He knows reader is his and he is of reader. Forever.

Kento Nanami

• He is suspicious, A LOT.

• Nanami is one of the few self-conscientious Yandere in JJK, who at the same time takes a RIDICULOUS amount of time to finally take the next step in approaching his Darling and hitting it off.

• And when he does, it takes a STUPID amount of willpower and conviction for him not to simply push reader out of their life, even though reader is clearly miserable, Kento knows they would be even more so if they lived with a monster like him.

• But to his surprise, it is READER who keeps looking for him, it is READER who wants to talk to him and stay in touch. It's like they completely ignore all the red flags that Nanami shows every time they are together (overprotection, jealousy, even violence)

• By the same token, he finds it difficult to believe that anyone GENUINELY is okay with the kind of attitudes he has proven to have OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

• When Nanami demands (politely) that the reader move in with him, he expected to have to resort to some manipulation tactic, to have to make the reader feel OBLIGED to do it, but the only thing he encountered was a “Okay, free rent”

• I MEAN???

• You can't blame the man for feeling confused.

• Nanami tries to give his Darling more space than Gojo, but at the same time he is so overprotective that it almost seems the opposite. He is able to put cameras in the house, have the reader wear an ankle bracelet when he is traveling, do regular medical checkups to ensure they are not sick, etc.

• Also Kento will not allow any item that could be useful for the reader to harm themself, putting a lock on the knife cabinet, putting razors out of service, even not allowing shoes with strings (in more extreme cases)

• HE DOES ALL THAT AND THEY HOPE HE'S NOT SUSPICIUOS???

• However, when Darling tells him why, it puts it a little more into perspective.

• Reader is not with Nanami because he is harsh and demanding with everyone, reader is with him because of how delicate and sweet Kento is with them, how he is patient with them, how he tries to improve their day, whether by bringing them food or trying to be emotional, how he cares for them.

• The reader doesn't care about others, they only cares about KENTO. And Kento doesn't care about others, he only cares about Darling.

• From here on, things improve, Nanami is no longer so paranoid, the reader gains certain freedoms by showing that they is genuinely voluntary (like being able to go out with Nanami, go shopping together, etc.)

• It is a new domestic environment, much calmer and happier.

• Nanami's Yandere tendencies are even taken down a notch. After all, why be jealous of someone who is already yours? Obviously he will take good care of them, but he knows he can trust them and they can trust him.

• They are a mutually twisted couple. But they love each other, at the end of the day. That's what's important.

Satoru Gojo

• Oh, he's ENJOYING this like you have no idea.

• I think the ideal Darling for this scenario would be someone who has had a bad time in life, someone who has hardly experienced love. Quite the opposite, Satoru, for the same reason he felt as attracted to the reader as he did.

• Some of them did it out of obligation, saving the weak, no matter how exhausting it may be, however, the reader ended up finding it more and more… more interesting. More intoxicating.

• He expected fighting, screaming and crying. But instead he was simply met with acceptance, resignation, indifference to his advances. Like they didn't care how obviously HARMFUL he was.

•Although, Gojo is self-centered enough to believe that his Darling loves him even if they doesn't, so by acting on his expectations they is only inflating his massive ego.

• I think he would be the only Yandere that no matter if the reader is voluntary or not, he is still one of the worst to have.

• Although of course, it's not so bad for a reader who is okay with it.

• Gojo is a very affectionate Yandere who is very erratic and definitely likes to have his “partner” around to ensure that they are within reach. Under His protection and control.

• With a willing reader, Satoru would be slightly softer, as he doesn't even think that this could be a trick, he can see through them after all.

• That means, more gifts, more pampering, and after a certain time, more freedoms. It's not a big deal, it's just walks to the park or in the car. But this reader has many more privileges, such as internet access, more space, etc.

• even Satoru tends to listen to them more because he knows that they do not “play”, because he respects them more than if they were involuntary (in that case he would probably look down on them to determine dominance, but here it is not even necessary!)

• As time goes by, Gojo would even start bringing Reader to his workplaces, simply because he can't keep his hands to himself, he is just confident enough that Reader isn't going to run away, and what do you think? They don't!

• If Satoru ever hears the reasoning behind why the reader stays with him, he would partly laugh, he honestly thinks it's funny that they only does it for the rent and being alone.

• However, this can quickly evolve into anger at whoever has hurt the reader in the past. With Gojo, no one gets away with it.

• He's a jealous Yandere, even if he's sweet and cuddly, he's always VERY close to just killing the entire mall every time they go shopping for new clothes. It's the custom.

• Fortunately, it seems that the reader knows what they've gotten themselves into, so I wouldn't worry about them, I'd worry about anyone who has done something to them in the past, because now they have some kind of nuclear bomb for a boyfriend.

• Good luck!

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

I'll update a little later bc i'm with a new medication for the Anemia thingy, but not worry! I'll still take Requests until about 10 of febraury.

I'm kind of missing taking Request of forgoten fandoms in the blog(like Voltron, Slugterra, Dororo(Tahomaru My Child), ahhhhh, the good Old days)

[cheriladycl01]

Hey! Your fics are amazing. I couldn't see if you were taking requests but if you are would you be comfortable writing a Pierre Gasly x Leclerc!Reader maybe where the reader is obviously a Leclerc sibling and has known Pierre for years and have also been dating for years and the brothers find out and are not happy about it.

Thank you and keep up the amazing writing!

🐨

You are royally fucked - Pierre Gasly x Leclerc! Reader

Plot: Y/N Leclerc grew up attached to her brothers, being a twin to Arthur and looking up to Charles and Lorenzo meant that you'd always been extremely close to your brothers and you travelled round the world with two of them as much as you could, but your brothers weren't the only reason why you attended races when you got older.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took me a while to get round to it!

You'd know Pierre since 2010 when you and Arthur followed Charles to karting. Arthur was obsessed as much as his older brother over cars and so all three would kart.

You and Arthur were in the same division but still followed Charles to the higher levels too see him perform which is how you met Pierre.

You were 10 and he was 14, just a kid where you had a crush on your older brothers friend.

It was stupid and went away with time as Pierre was just someone kind to you when you were around your brothers. You saw him every race weekend. You'd bring him cookies you'd baked and he'd bring you a charm for your bracelet which he got you another one off on your 13th birthday as there were too many.

As you got older karting yourself became less and less of an interest and you only would show up to watch your bothers. Arthur continued on like Charles through the feeder series.

But as Charles progressed he became more and more absent. You weren't allowed to travel across the world with Charles unless your parents or Lorenzo were there too look after you, and you started to miss your brother more and more until it took a toll on you.

You started acting up, not going to school and it put a strain on your relationships with all of your family.

Charles wasn't around enough to see it but the rest of your family did.

When Charles finally got to F2, your mum promised you could go more, and it was great until your dad got sick and he couldn't travel anymore.

You were angry, not at anyone in particular but at the world for everything it was throwing at you. And you tried to run away, you ended up outside the casino in Monte Carlo, lost and upset.

It was actually Lewis Hamilton who found you, he couldn't comprehend why this 16 year old girl was alone in the streets of Monaco. You guys talked for ages and he convinced you to go home, you parents were so angry with you they grounded you and you were banned from going to any of Charles races.

Then your dad passed away, and you were devastated and were even more angry. You were 16 and had so much hate for the world, Arthur, Lorenzo and Pascale had no idea what to do with you. So they sent you to boarding school for a year until you were 18 and could make up your own mind.

While you were there you clicked with a group of people who all were influencers of some sort, and having Charles as a brother and him being announced into F1 for 2018 it wasn't hard to accumulate a following.

You stayed in the UK until you were 21, all you friends from boarding school went to university so you decided you'd stay with them and get a degree. Despite missing lots of school you were actually a very smart girl and had excellent grades.

Once you were 18, Arthur started to invite you to more of his races. And Lorenzo and your mum were always asking for you to come home... but your Charlie still hadn't realized everything you'd been through.

It wasn't until his 24rd birthday you saw Charlie properly. He noticed how different you were, you weren't the 16 year old he left all those years ago. He just pulled you into a massive hug and it didn't seem like the time to unload everything on him.

You saw Lewis that night, and he recognized you right away coming over and laughing about how he didn't think you'd end up being his competitions little sister when he helped you out all those years ago.

Then, you saw him ...

Pierre and that was night everything changed.

"Pierre?" you asked looking over the taller male, smiling softly not having seen his face in person for a while.

"Y/N?" he asks in shock, cocking his head to the side.

"The one and only" you grin and he just stares, still shell shocked about your presence.

"I haven't seen you for years!" he says pulling you into a tight hug that you melt into, his big arms encasing around you and making you feel safe.

"Where have you been?" he asks, looking over you face.

"Argh i just obviously got so sick of seeing you and Charlie all the time!" you smirk, taking a sip of the Negroni in your hand.

"Mmmmm, and to think. I thought you used to have a crush on me" he chuckles looking down and laughing.

The few drinks you'd had brought for you by your brother and all the drivers who recognized you had got to that confident place in your mind.

"Oh i did, hard core" you say with a straight face making him squint his eyes at you seeing if you were telling the truth.

"You sound ... different" he offers leaning in and tucking some hair behind your ear. If Pierre was being honest he'd never seen you as anything but a little sister, that was how he treated you when you guys were younger.

He didn't know if it was the club lights, the alcohol, your changed accent and looks, or a mix of all of them but he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world for him.

And you noticed.

"That's what years of schooling in the UK will do for you and having friends who love to take the mick when you butcher the pronunciation of something" you giggle.

"You still sound Monegasque though" he grins, still hearing that twang.

The rest of the conversation was history as you went back to Pierre's hotel room, spending the night with him.

At this point you'd been dating Pierre for 4 years. Everyone noticed since 2021 how much more common your appearance in the garage was. Obviously your twin was there as a development driver for Ferrari, and Charles as a Ferrari driver also meant that people knew you were there for your brothers.

But little did they know you were sneaking off to the Alpine garage in search or your boyfriend.

“Hey baby” you grinned to Pierre, happy to see his face and plant kisses all over it.

“Ahhhh, how are you cherie” he mumbles into your neck. 2024 hadn’t been a great season for Alpine, and 2025 hadn’t started off great either. So you being there in the garage to cheer him up or calm him down was a must.

Charles never really questioned where you left too, he assumed it was to see Logan and Oscar who would often be found teasing Arthur all still being relatively close from their F2 days in Prema.

“Im good, just a little tired” you smile cuddling up to him on the little sofa in his drivers room.

“Mmmmm” he says and he seems like he isn’t fully there with you.

“What’s wrong, somethings on your mind” you ask, looking over him.

“I’ve been thinking” he says looking down at you.

“That’s never good” you joke but his face tells you that this will be a pretty serious conversation. One that you could tell had been playing on his mind.

"What is it what's wrong?" you ask, taking his hand in your own.

"We need to tell your family soon... it's been 4 years of being a secret and I want to show you off. I want to be able to take you out for a nice dinner in public and not fear getting caught. I want you to move in with me, and I just think it's time we tell them!" he admits, all very quickly and he watches as you take the time to process what he has just admitted.

"You want to tell my brothers?" you ask making sure you weren't jumping the gun.

"Yes, I cant help but feel ... guilty is not the right word but do you get what i mean?" he asks and you nod.

"Yeah, why don't I ask maman... she can make us a nice dinner tonight after the race and I'll say I'm bringing my boyfriend?" you smile and he nods.

You walk away to call your mum, leaving Pierre to leave his drivers room and walk to the garage where he would be starting the race soon.

"Maman?" you ask into the phone as it connects.

"Y/N darling where are you. We've all been in the garage waiting for you!" you hear in French and you chuckle.

"I've been, somewhere else. Maman i need to ask you something!" you ask as you exit the Alpine hospitality, trying to go as unnoticed as possible.

"What is it?" she asks, concern washing over her voice.

"I want to introduce you all to my boyfriend tonight..." you say although it comes out as more of a question that anything.

"WHAT?" she yells down the phone and you visibly cringe.

"Y/N Leclerc, get back to the Ferrari garage now!" she chides before hanging up the phone making you bite your lip anxiously.

You walk back to Ferrari as slowly as possible not wanting to feel that wrath of your mother who has probably already told Lorenzo and Arthur.

"Hey..." you say awkwardly as you go to where they are sat in the garage with all their headphones on.

"You have a boyfriend?" Lorenzo asks

"And you didn't tell me... us i mean!" Arthur cries out as Lorenzo elbow his side hearing him talk about himself.

"Maman! You told them!" you exclaim, not in shock as it was highly likely she would spill the beans to your brothers, but more in frustration that she did.

"Y/N! Why would you not tell your family about this... how long has this relationship been for?" your mum asks making you bite your lip and look down.

"4 years" you mumble and you mother huffs asking you to speak up before you say it in French, turning away not wanting to see their reactions.

"You've been with a man for 4 years and not told any of us! Not even Arthur! You tell everything to your twin!" You mum exclaims in shock.

"Obviously not everything ..." Arthur says sounding really upset before walking off, making tears fill in your eyes.

"I'm, we're ... happy for you. Really! But you know we worry about you... especially Charles. I dread to think how he's going to react when we tell him!" he laughs.

It was just you and Lorenzo right now, your mum having gone off to find Arthur.

"Loz, can i tell you something that you cant tell anyone?" you ask looking at him. Your oldest brother was always the best at knowing when you really really wanted his attention and that it was something serious.

"Go on!" he says, looking over you.

"You promise you wont say anything!" you look over at him and he nods, holding up his pinky which you swiftly take with your pinky too.

"I promise!" he sighs.

"It's Pierre" you blurt out, an eyebrow of Lorenzo's raising.

"What's Pierre?" he asks.

"The person who I'm dating... it's Pierre!" you admit and his eyes widen.

"Oh... you are royally fucked!"

And that you were. When Pierre entered the house all hell broke loose. Charles was yelling, Arthur too, Lorenzo was trying to calm everyone down. Maman was being quiet just watching the chaos erupt. Alex and Charlotte didn't know what to do. Pierre was just listening to everything that Charles was yelling at him.

It wasn't until you started sobbing that Charles stopped and looked over at you.

"Y/N... I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that!" he exclaims looking over between you and Pierre.

"I guess I'm just shocked... we were all friends and I didn't expect it!" he admits and you look down.

"Please, Charlie. I love him... just like you love Alex and how Loz loves Charlotte. He makes me happy, the happiest I've been probably ever!" you sigh and he nods.

"God, i cant believe your growing up!" he sniffles and you pull Charlie into a hug.

"It happens!" you chuckle.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[liliapleasesteponme]

Personal assistant

Avis amberg x fem!reader

Summary - Avis can't think of anything but you and she needs to find a way to spend more time with you so you're offered a promotion / Avis's first time with a woman

Warnings - top!reader, bottom!avis, masturbating, fingering (avis receiving), oral (reader receiving), cheating, reader calls avis a 'good girl'

Requested by @weemswife

Tags - @mgruiz @thoroughly--confused @bravewithacapitalb @priceysalt @imorynn @aggieharkness @gayestswiftie @multixfan

You, a low level worker at Ace Studios, had been staying much longer after you shifts ended recently. Not because of extra work or actually wanting to be there, but because of the new woman in charge. After Ace got sick, Avis started working in his place and you couldn't help but daydream about her.

The way her eyes lingered on you in passing, the way she had you hanging on every word, the way her hair was always flawless. The list was never-ending. In your eyes, she was perfect ... But she was taken. She was married to stupid Ace, your boss of all people, but not anymore. For now it was just her. You'd hate to admit it but you had secretly hoped that Ace would stay sick so you could keep seeing Avis when she was around.

You knew it was wrong to think such things about a married woman but with her it was impossible not to. You spent the days imagining her hands on your thighs, lips on your neck, fingers teasing your hole. You could only imagine how amazing it would be to hear her moan.

As far as you knew, she was a straight, married woman who would never be interested in some random girl that works in her husband's studio ― or atleast that's what you thought.

Avis, on the other hand, had been trying everything she could to leave early for the past week. A mission she failed miserably at. Running a studio was something new, something very overwhelming for her.

After Ace left and she said yes to producing 'meg', it had been hell in the studio, dealing with rioting at the gates, endless reporters knocking at her door and theaters already refusing to show the picture. She was exhausted.

Any other day, she would go to the gas station for some stress relief but with how often she'd been going at the moment, all of the boys there had begun to bore her. She needed something new, something exciting. She couldn't even turn to jack anymore with him focusing his interest on her daughter.

She tried anything she could but nothing gave her the release she so desperately needed. That was until she first saw you. You were walking down the hallway and accidentally bumped into her. You began apologising a thousand times for it but she dismissed it as 'a simple mistake that could've happened to anyone'

Since that day, the two of you hadn't stopped thinking about one another. At first she couldn't stop thinking about your voice, then your outfit, then your hair and so much more. She was fixated on how your eyes gazed into hers that day you first met.

One particularly lonely night, Avis found herself laying on her bed in just her nightgown. She was, once again, thinking about you. How you'd smile at her whenever you saw her after that first day. Her hands began to travel down her body and inbetween her legs.

Her pussy was already dripping from how much she'd been longing for you. She rubbed her clit for a moment before going straight in with one finger to start her off. Her pace was slow at first while she moved into a more comfortable position.

After a minute or two she inserted a second finger, quickening her pace slightly. Her moans got gradually louder until she began praising your name. "mhh god, y/nn-ahhhh fuck, wish you were touching me, y/n mm fuuckk"

Saying your name only turned her on even more as she got closer and closer to the high she was craving. With a few more thrusts of her fingers, she came, practically screaming your name.

Sure, she had masturbated plenty of times before, but this, this was a new feeling. She needed you and it was becoming harder and harder for her not to do anything about it.

The next morning at the studio she called you into her office, "good morning miss y/l/n. I can see you've been working very hard recently." You said morning to her aswell and thanked her for the compliment. "I've asked you here to say ..."

She wanted to say anything along the lines of 'i can't stop thinking about you' or 'i want to take you to dinner' but the words just wouldn't come out. Something in her mind wasn't letting her confess how much she wanted you, how much she wanted to feel your fingers inside her, how much she yearned for your touch.

Instead she ended up saying, "your being promoted, to personal assistant, my personal assistant."

The job was much higher up than your current job and certainly paid much more. You were surprised at first, how did your staying a few hours more than usual for the past few weeks turn into this ?

You were silent for a moment before bursting into thanks, the money this job would provide could do so much for you (and this meant you'd get to see her way more) The two of you talked for about half an hour about what the job required you to do, your hours and anything else that seemed relevent.

When the two of you finished up, you collected yourself and stood to get to work but she impulsively grabbed your arm, holding you back. There was a quiet moment before she managed to configure her thoughts and say, "i almost forgot, it's customary that when a new personal assistant is hired that they are taken out to a 'welcome to the job' dinner. I'm leaving at 6:45 today, be in my office then and we'll go."

Of course this 'customary dinner' wasn't real but she desperately needed a way to see you outside of the studio. When you heard that she was taking you out, you were jumping for joy on the inside, on the outside you tried to play it cool so she wouldn't know how overly excited you were.

The day flew by as all you could think about was what might happen with Avis. When the clock turned six you decided to leave a bit early to stop off at your apartment and change. Though this dinner was probably all innocent, you thought, you still wanted to look your best for her, even if she doesn't feel the same way you do.

Little did you know she was doing the exact same thing, though she was still in her office, she was fixing her makeup that had worn throughout the day. Her mind was racing at the thought of what could come out of tonight if she played her cards right.

Just the thought of you going out with her made her wet. She hoped that by the end of the dinner that she could make you as wet as she was now. The heat started to become to much for her as she imagined all the things that you could do to her or vice versa.

Her hand moved down to her core, once again, unable to resist. She pushed under her skirt and closer to where she wished your head was, her breath hitching in anticipation. Just as she was going to plunge a first finger in, the door opened.

You had arrived ten minutes early just to be ready and forgot to knock. Lucky for her, the desk managed to hide her lower half just enough that you had no way of knowing what she had just been caught doing.

She quickly removed her hand and stood to greet you. You both left and as you walked out she guided you with her hand on your lower back. Her action gave you butterflies like none you'd ever had before and that's when you decided. You would have her tonight no matter what.

She drove you to a fancy italian restaurant on the edge of town. The table you were seated at was a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant. There were candles and roses on every table, it definitely didn't look like somewhere you take 'just a colleague'.

The dinner itself was amazing, the two of you got to know eachother better, the food was so good and everything just felt perfect. As she finished up her meal, you decided that now was the time to try and flirt with her.

At first it didn't seem to go too great, your lines were mediocre at best but she still seemed to fall for every word that came out of your mouth. Her heart eyes made you stutter over your words while you spoke. Suddenly, you felt her heel move up your leg. It stopped you in your tracks. You thought you flirting was one-sided but now ? Maybe you were wrong.

You felt like the room had gotten much hotter, she leaned over the table and as close to your face as she could get. "we should leave." she said with a wink.

You couldn't have agreed with her words more, she pulled you out to her car, hand in hand. You both got in and silently drove to her house. About half way through the drive, you put your hand on Avis's thigh, when you did, you saw her slightly jump at the unexpected contact. After a minute, however, she relaxed a bit more lifting the tension between the two of you.

She led you through the doors, past the other rooms and into the bedroom. Her room was like nothing you'd ever seen. It was luxurious, filled with things most people could never afford, you were in awe.

After a moment of scanning the room, you noticed a small desk-table in the corner, it was unclear what it was made of since it was completely coverd by various papers.

"what's all this ?" you asked pointing to the masses of paperwork on the table, "i thought you said at dinner that you dont like to bring work home with you."

She let out a loud sigh "running the studio in Ace's place has been stressful to say the least. There's no other option at the moment. If i don't then i fear it will never be done." she let her eyes wander to yours, "i feel like i need a distraction, you know ? Something to take my mind off it all, i just can't find anything good enough."

"yeah ? Then let me distract you." Your hand reached out to touch her arm, at first she was tense but she quickly relaxed against your soft touch. Your thumb rubbed mindlessly up and down her arm.

You moved in front of her and leant in. As if it were a reflex, she instantly met your lips with hers. The kiss was tender at first but as you both settled into it, it became more passionate, driven by your lust for her. Your arms snaked their way around her waist and she let out a small moan, allowing you access to deepen the kiss even more with you tongue.

While it was just your arms around her waist, it felt like everything to her. A sign that you really wanted her. A way of knowing that this was real. After a minute, she pulled away to catch her breath.

You pecked her lips one more time before pushing her onto the bed. You made sure she was placed comfortably before continuing. You began to kiss and suck her neck, leaving hickeys she would have a hard time covering tommorow.

She ran her fingers through your hair and the feeling made you moan against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. You continued leaving hickeys on her as your hands roamed lower and lower until you reached the bottom of her skirt. You looked down at her but got no sign from her.

When you moved closer, she hesitated. It wasn't that she was inexperienced (cause we all know shes not), she's just inexperienced in sex like this―with a woman.

You noticed her hesitance and asked, "are you sure you want to do this ?" she nodded almost instantly but in this situation that wouldn't do. "i need words Avis."

The way her name rolled of your tongue was mesmerizing to her. She soon replied, "yes. Yes i want this. I need this."

It almost sounded like she was begging you to fuck her. You never thought you'd see the Avis amberg so vulnerable, so desperate for you. It was a sight you could never forget, not that you would ever want to.

Now you had her words, you hiked her skirt up and removed her black underwear. Just feeling your hand massage her clit was enough to get her caught in a string of moans.

Without warning you plunged two fingers deep into her throbbing pussy. She got louder and louder as you began to thrust in and out of her faster and faster.

She felt her high approaching already and she was secretly ashamed that it was this easy to make her cum, but she couldn't focus on that because of how incredible you were making her feel.

"ohh fuck fuck, im close, so close, mmph fuck y/n" she panted. "do it, be a good girl and cum for me."

Just like that, she came all over your fingers. A symphony of moans, laced with praise of your name escaped her. That orgasm was like nothing she'd ever experienced with a man. This was so different, so much better.

She waited until her breathing was stable and said, "well, i guess it's my time to return the favor then." her voice was seductively low.

Before you could reply, she grabbed you by the hips and pulled you forward until your legs were either side of her head. You didn't remember when you took off your clothes but you had, giving her full access to your pussy.

She looked up at you and you nodded back at her. She licked a stripe along your hole taking in how wet fucking her made you. She gave a small laugh at your wetness that sent a vibration through your core making you moan, loudly.

She took your moan as a signal to keep going. She pushed her tongue into your pussy and tasted you through kitten licks at first. She could see how much you loved this by the way your hips began to mindlessly grind into her.

Her movements became faster and sloppier as she could feel your walls clenching around her. Her pattern had become completely random as she did whatever she could to send you over the edge.

With a few more licks, your orgasm washed over you. You moans were louder than ever as you came in her mouth. You whimpered in overstimulation as she licked up any cum left on you swallowing all she could get.

Once you had regained composure, she helped you move off of her so you could lay together. You both held eachother in a way that felt new to both of you, it was so soft, so warm, so loving.

This is how it should be. You both thought.

A/N - im soo tired rn but i have #insomia so im gonna try to sleep now, i hope you guys all like the fic, its my first time writing for avis, lmk what you think <3

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere dc: meeting camgirl! reader <3 pt. 2

Yuppp, this is the part two of my previous post <33 but this time she'll be meeting the rest of the batboys and kon! (reminder she has met some of them even from before!!)

if you get into the 'terry mcginnis' part and is confused on who he is, watch batman beyond bc hes the new batman and its sooo good and hes underrated <3

Anywho here it isss

BIG warning: this may more or less have the same amount of clownery as the last one so prepare my sweets and also my brain is fried so some parts might not make sense but i tried😔💔 please repost to support me i spent sm timee 😭

tim drake aka 'red robin':

Also one of your most biggest and creepiest faithful fans that you've ever had in your stream!

Hes a frequent donor AND victim to your relentless charms just like jason and dick.

Has met you before you decided to even become a cam girl, as you two both go to the same school AND classes too 🥰 (he may or may have not gotten bruce to manipulate the principal or some higher up into changing classes...)

he's like a lovesick highschool student who developed a crush, but this time more extreme.

While you on the otherhand, saw a weird looking boy staring at you with the most fullest smile you've ever seen. toothy, cheshire grin, and all-- (he ran away almost IMMEDIATELY when you saw him)

(...you also chased after him when he ran 💀 he was shooked, but stops once your hand grabs his shoulder and you ask him who he was)

"You >:D i saw you looking at me, who are you >:)"

...my, he never knew you were this bold... you really need to stop being so cute or your further fueling his delusions i swear--

You shake him. "Ow- okay-- my name's Tim--"

You then smile and drag a stunned but intrigued timothy with you.

...Are you perhaps some social butterfly, darling?...

From that moment on, tim's interest in you increases and a friendship between you and him bloomed! Hes so proud of himself for making the first move even though you did it first...

(Again, dont ask how darling lives in bludhaven, but meets tim and jason whose in gotham 💀 either think of her as having teleportation powers being the reason for the frequent back-and-forths or tim being so obssessed, he moves in bludhaven just to see reader--)

When i said creepy, i said c r e e p y. Even worse than klarion, thaddeus, and even dick who i said before was on another level 😦

Tim is both sweet, nervous, and shy... or at least, is how he shows himself for you.

he must look decent for you or how else would he make you reciprocate his feelings?

He's capable of changing in a blink of an eye so anybody who isn't his beloved, dont test him, okay? <3

He sits in the back with darling in class. In the back. You heard me.

Normally he'd be in the front to be able to see and listen better, but darling is a slacker so--

He sighs, looking at his rushed and poorly written notes. He doesnt even know what the topic is anymore, and it kinda looks like hieroglyphics--

Meanwhile, you on the otherhand, was cooking instant noodles with the others... with a pot AND a stove... D: (he loves you but damn he wants to cry rlly bad on how screwed you two are--)

As for the part where he finds out about your part-time job as a cam girl, this man was seething.

No honey, not at you, but at your parents-- how could they let their beautiful daughter do this?! Do they even care?!-- oh? What was that, darling?... Your parents were gone? i guess that explains it...

proceeds to feel bad for you, and wishes to look after you. But you being you, you remain so hardheaded. Why cant you let him love you?? why cant you quit that stupid job?! >:( (hes a bit hypocritical on this one since he literally donates thus further fueling you to go on)

Sigh... nevertheless, he realizes a bit that he can't persuade someone like you for now, so he donates in your live like the good friend he is...

Yeah, 'good friend'...

In the darkness of his room, he watches with unblinking eyes the way your body moves on his screen. You look so enticing, the way a bit of pink colors your cheeks, how every moan you give were light and breathy... simply fantastic. He sighs.

"Oh baby... what am i going to do with you?... <3"

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 38% for nuisance, 70% for humor (80% as red robin)

⋆˚✿˖°

conner kent aka 'superboy':

Ah yes, another top donor and one of your most perverted watchers out there.

Cocky, rebellious, womanizing... doll, you're just another girl for him to use in order to piss off tim since he loves pushing that man's patience so much.

Has probably met you through him too, as this man follows his best friend that has been, in his eyes, acting a bit too strange lately.

And he now knows why. You.

thinks you're absolutely adorable. the way you act out of impulse to the way you speak so brazenly to him, intrigues the kryptonian so much.

Hm, your going to be so much fun to play with <3

But unfortunately, the boy of steel did not know who he was up against.

"...Doll, what did you just say?--" it was 8 at night and he was in his best attire holding a bouquet of flowers. Not just your average red roses, but a well-thought out blend of daffodils, carnations, and tulips. just for you.

But right now, you're breaking his heart.

"Yeah Kon, i love you but no. i'm not dating you. Sorry."

...you don't have the right to say you love him.

"a-and why can't we date?--" he was so confused, these months spent trying to court you, all wasted.

"erm... im not interested, kon. yeah you're hot and you support me and all, but im gonna be honest with you... you're not my type. and plus..."

he feels his heart break even more when you continue.

"...I'm interested in someone. I've known them for so long Kon, and i would hurt them if i get with you."

...

"...sorry." you run away.

things with kon has never felt the same since. he no longer visits tim just to see you, only him. he ignores you too, not even a single glance being spared. but you swear you could feel cold blue eyes watching your figure sometimes...

...and then that happens. you see a message notification from him. conner.

'im sorry if i made things awkward between us. forgive me, doll? :('

your thumb hovered whether or not to answer. you made your decision.

'kay. wanna play dti? :3'

he's so glad you cant see him right now... crying pure tears of joy, and complete relief that you took the bait.

'okay :)'

just because he got rejected by you once that doesnt mean he's immediately gonna back down <33 and about that boy you like, who was it? can't you tell him and he'll give a quick visit to the very lucky guy...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 49% for nuisance, 80% for humor (95% as superboy)

ᯓᡣ𐭩

damian wayne aka 'robin':

...knows the guy that you like.

he's genuinely angry at you, but mostly at your taste.

seriously, him? why not him instead...

frequently donates money and is also very dedicated in line.

(to save you trouble, most of the batfam is a big fan to you and are often your biggest donors. they wish to stop you from pursuing such a... scandalous, line of work but cant help but further support you the more they give money and get addicted to the content you make 😞💔)

discovered you on accident when a certain someone, *cough* tim, *cough* left their computer on without closing the tabs.

you cannot simply imagine the sheer shock that painted his face during that time, seeing someone, you, getting it on with another guy that seems all too familiar.

...and he cant help but get angry. (you'll all understand soon enough why he and kon hates reader's man and possible bf sm 😭)

meeting you face to face... thats a whole situation. tim immediately regrets bringing damian to see you because this man already went off on how much of a 'hoe', you are.

you can take a lot of things, but this boy rubs you off wrong.

"seriously, drake? your new friend is a prostitute? you drew the line making friends with that kryptonian clone, but this takes the cak--"

*slap.*

...that hurts. damian's hand slowly makes its way up to his cheek, where the red was starting to spring.

he looks at you like you were mad. you are, thanks to him. "...you... you little---"

he was held back by an angry but calmer kon despite being also insulted, whilst tim holds you comfortably.

"hey don't listen to damian over there, alright? :( he's just a bit--"

"I'm speaking facts here!-- hmpfh!" a hand covers his mouth.

"seriously tim, does he ever shut his mouth?" kon says.

he huffs. "no. and that's why i was considering bringing duct tape earlier, Kon."

...okay, maybe his first impression forever got him labelled as a bitch in your eyes, but damian tries to make it up to you in any way he can since he actually finds you decent after getting to know you. (think of those asian parents that after scolding you till you cry, they give you food but instead money in damian's version)

"...ahem."

no response.

"...AHEM."

you finally look up at him, and a bag was thrown straight at your face. "you stupid ass-- wait a minute." you look inside the bag and it was filled with... money.

you look up at damian, only to see his figure quickly dashing off and hide behind a wall where he would secretly try and take a peek for your reaction. you smile and give a thumbs up.

"...you aren't that bad, but try shutting your mouth most of the time, okay? :3 <3"

...the green in his eyes glinted... and he scoffs. typical damian wayne.

"...sure, prozzy-- HEY STOP CRYING--"

fierce but protective. rude but caring. that is what damian is towards you.

and that is how he'll always be as long as that man is around...

"i'll be with you. and i shall do everything in my power to ensure you do not end up with him!--" too late.

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 25% for nuisance, 78% for humor (89% as robin)

ִֶָ࣪☾.𔘓

terry mcginnis aka 'batman beyond':

...is the man that kon, damian, and the others have beef with.

how he's part of the main timeline in this is that all of the events before batman beyond happens earlier. (i also tweaked a few things in canon here so dont mind me)

terry's dad died before the entire 'Powers' situation, leading to Terry living with his mom earlier.

...terry also suffers from something.

at a young age, terry cannot feel any sort of emotions. remorse, empathy, such things were removed from him. he could only feel empty, comparable to having a large gaping hole inside his chest instead of a beating heart.

the boy ponders why he was cursed with such a thing, and why he could only feel pity and sadness. just a little.

...he thought he was unsavable. until--

his eyes lands on you, the girl who was playing on the playground's swing. (note: darling used to live in gotham as a kid)

...he gulps. pretty...

"you there, what's your name?" you asked. always the first one to make a move...

...and you sound nice.

"hm? well? :3"

...he decided to speak. "...terry. i'm terry... you?..."

you smile. "they call me (name), pretty right?" he could only nod. yes, it was very pretty...

i think everybody could guess how things go from then on.

he meets you, grows up with you, falls in love with you, and in the end lives happily with you... if only it weren't for his tendency to maim just about anyone who gets near you.

he's a dog, honey. but he's your rabid, vicious dog.

by the time he grows up, he's learned how to hide what he truly is from you, and the terry that we all come to know and love is now here.

charming, witty, humorous... terry mcginnis is nothing but an amorous boy for you... and you love it. (u match his freak sm)

in his eyes, you two are together <3 and its not even a lie you two are but you're too much in denial since you firmly believe he deserves better :( (tho thoughts like that dissapear when he and you yk ;))

absolutely hates it when you spend time with anyone, especially with his adopted siblings. dick, jason, tim, and damian? fuck no. (if you read the batman beyond comics, those two despise each other--)

...so expect those two to be at each other's necks.

and about the cam girl part, yup, this man knows. and like tim, he tries to persuade you to stop. you're a complicated person, he knows. either for money or fun, you do crazy shit like this every time... but this one's really serious.

"...look at me." you obey, eyes staring back at ocean blue ones. terry's eyes were always so pretty...

"...hehe, pretty eyed as ever, mcginnis..." and he can't help but smile slightly at your words.

"..." damn you, really. his soft spot for you is huge, and 99% of the time, you get off the hook easily.

in the end, he might have allowed you to do this... 'artist' stuff, but on one condition:

he gets to f*ck you on some parts.

you blink, cheeks starting to redden. "...what--" and just like that, your fate is sealed <3

...currently, you were on Live. the rest of your boy toys watched with envious yet very heated gazes as your pussy was getting demolished by his dick. the close up shots were so unnecessary, the way he roughly pummels into you was so--

'$10000 from GR4YS0N_68'

'GR4YS0N_68: ugh yea terry ruin that little bitches cunt'

terry grins, feeling you getting closer. the position you and him were in was perfect, babe... perfect for a pic.

his strong hand gently but firmly grabs your jaw, making you face the camera.

he whispers to you so closely."smile for the camera, sweetie."

you oblige, a broken smile on your lips. the stream abruptly ends.

no need for the public to know what you both are doing in private anymore...

Yandere rating: 100% on money, 0.0001% for nuisance, 90% for humor (100% as batman beyond)

(finally its finished 🤕 i have so many unfinished works huhu....)

(update: ill also try editing this too <3)

[iamthedukeofurl]

One interesting thing that can happen in long running media is that the general cultural background can shift under the work, recontextualizing it as it is being written. I'm specifically thinking of the Order of the Stick, a Dungeons and Dragons themed webcomic that started in 2003 with the titular party of adventurers going through a dungeon.

From left to right, we have Belkar Bitterleaf the halfling ranger, Vaarsuvius the Elf Wizard, Elan the Human Bard, Haley Starshine the Human Rogue, Durkon Thundershield the Dwarf Cleric, and Roy Greenhilt the Human Fighter. The comic takes place in a fantasy setting that knowingly runs off the rules of Dungeons and Dragons third edition. Characters talk about rolls and bonuses and intentionally take levels in various classes. At the start, the comic was a pretty basic gag comic about the D&D rules, basic fantasy/adventure tropes, ect.

In the 20 years the comic has been running, it has updated about 1300 times, not counting bonus strips exclusively made for the printed version, and several print (or PDF) only side and prequel stories. It has also dramatically grown from it's roots, the art has improved while keeping the same general aesthetic, and the gag-a-day comic has become a sweeping fantasy epic. The characters have grown beyond their initial bits (Belkar is a Murderhobo, Elan is stupid, Haley is greedy, ect), and it's genuinely up there as one of my favorite stories. But anyway, let's talk about Vaarsuvius. If you look at the above art, You'll notice that the characters tend to have three types of body shapes: Rectangles for Roy, Belkar, and Elan, feminine curves for Haley, and Robes for Vaarsuvius. This presentation is a pretty consistent signifier of gender and/or somebody wearing robes. Early on, part of Vaarsuvius's running gag became their ambiguous gender. At the time, it was a fairly common joke in fantasy to talk about how Elven men had androgynous or "Girly" appearances, so V was part of that. Instead of a singular pronoun, characters would generally just abbreviate Vaarsuvius's name as "V", and whenever the narrative would have naturally provided some indication of gender one way or another, V would resolve the situation without providing any such indication. For example, an early gag has the characters seeking out a set of modern style bathrooms in the dungeon. When they find them, V says that their "More Efficient elven biology" means they don't have to go yet, so they wait outside while the boys go into the Men's room and Haley waits in the inevitable long line at the women's. When Vaarsuvius reveals that they are married, they use the term "Spouse" to refer to their partner, when we see their children, the children are clearly adopted (V and their partner both have pale skin, their children have darker skin) and refer to Vaarsuvius as "Parent". Vaarsuvius themselves seems to have trouble identifying other people by gender. Characters outside the central cast might refer to Vaarsuvius as "He" or "She", but doing so was always shedding light on that character's perspective, rather than saying anything about Vaarsuvius. The assumption behind the gag is that Vaarsuvius must be either male or female, and the joke is that the narrative/Vaarsuvius themselves keeps finding ways to avoid "Revealing" their gender. Fan wikis and official books list Vaarsuvius's gender as "Ambigious" and on the forum there used to be a regular, multi-part thread dedicated to debatings Vaarsuvius's gender, even after the author declared that it would "never be revealed".

Anyway, going back to the start, it's 2023, and something shifted at some point, both in the comic and in the general cultural background. The jokes about V's gender kind of fell off, not just because the gag got played out, but because the basic assumption behind it simply doesn't work anymore. Everybody knows that Nonbinary people exist. There's no point in the comic where Vaarsuvius switches from being "Ambigiously Gendered" to Nonbinary, in fact, the entire comic reads just fine if you read Vaarsuvius as male or female and just not caring enough to clarify their gender to anybody and at some point other characters just stop thinking about it. But it's interesting to see how a character trait that was once included in even the most basic character descriptions (Varsuvius: Elven Wizard. Arrogant, Intelligent. Ambigiously gendered) just kind of got washed away by a rising tide of cultural nuance towards gender. Also go read OOTS, it's pretty great.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

chaggie talk post charlie's ex dropping by the hotel, time for hugs

Charlie: "....Vaggie?"

(THUNK)

Vaggie: "Charlie- Oh sweetie hi! I was just uh..."

Charlie: "Using a picture of my ex for target practice?"

Vaggie: (slumping) "Sorry."

Charlie: "Don't be! Look like you had pretty good aim, heheh!" (hugs gf) "I'm sorry he showed up today like that."

Vaggie: "Totally not your fault, babe. That was all him."

Charlie: "You really hate him, huh?"

Vaggie: "I don't even know the guy."

Charlie: "You hate what you do know about him."

Vaggie: "Yeah. Well. You dumped him for a reason. Right?"

Charlie: "Several."

Vaggie: "So how's seeing him again going? You okay? Him stopping by out of the blue like this..."

Charlie: "I'm okay!"

Vaggie: "Really."

Charlie: "I'm okay enough. I wish he'd been a little less HIM about it all but I'm okay!" (hugs tighter) "I have you. You make everything better."

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: (hugs back) "Charlie?"

Charlie: "Hm?"

Vaggie: "Do you want me to be honest?"

Charlie: "If you can. As much as you're okay with."

Vaggie: "......I wasn't okay with this. With him."

Charlie: "Never would have guessed. Not like you almost taking his head off with your spear was a pretty big hint or anything."

Vaggie: "I hated seeing how he could just walk back into your life like that."

Charlie: "He's not IN my life again, Vaggie, he's just helping with the hotel- well I guess right now he's probably already in a sex dungeon knowing Angel Dust-"

Vaggie: "A- sex dungeon?"

Charlie: "I'll tell you later. Tell me your stuff now?"

Vaggie: "...he's your ex."

Charlie: "Yes. Very."

Vaggie: "But you broke up with him just for annoying, normal things."

Charlie: "There was lot of them but also yes."

Vaggie: "He wasn't, isn't, a bad person."

Charlie: "He could use SOME character growth but yeah. A normal enough guy."

Vaggie: "He's not violent or cruel or anything."

Charlie: "Harmless like I said. He's also just. Well."

Vaggie: "Not a murderer."

Charlie: "Vaggie..."

Vaggie: "Sorry." (hides face) "Forget it."

Charlie: "No I- I didn't mean-"

Vaggie: "Forget it. What's Angel Dust doing with him?"

Charlie: "I don't know or care right now." (snuggles gf) "Please, keep going?"

Vaggie: "It's the same stupid thing as ever."

Charlie: "Not stupid. Important."

Vaggie: "Your ex drops by and I'm making it about me." (snorts) "Sounds pretty stupid."

Charlie: "No. It's not. My girlfriend is hurt and sad, and that's not something to just forget. It also makes it about me too, I think. Tell me?"

Vaggie: "...I just..."

Vaggie: (sighs)

Vaggie: "I'm just jealous."

Charlie: "Jealous? Of what? You don't have be- I don't have the slightest, tiniest interest in him anymore-"

Vaggie: "But it'd make sense if you did."

Charlie: "No it wouldn't! Why would you think-?"

Vaggie: "Did he ever keep a huge secret from you for years?"

Charlie: "No?"

Vaggie: "Or stand back and let some terrible news get dropped on you at the worst possible moment, just because he was too scared to tell you himself?"

Charlie: "Vaggie-"

Vaggie: "He never hurt you like I did, Charlie. Did he."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "He never could have... I didn't let him. I was never as close with him as I am with you."

Vaggie: "Why not? Why..."

Charlie: "He never wanted to talk seriously about the hotel or saving sinners. No one did but. But he'd get me talking about it in front of others, sometimes, just so he could swoop in and be the hero for me when they laughed. But they had to laugh at me first before he'd do the swooping."

Vaggie: "Asshole."

Charlie: "Kinda. You're not like that."

Vaggie: "Those are small things though, not, not secretly an Exorcist level things-"

Charlie: "They feel like big things to me."

Vaggie: "Still-"

Charlie: "Bigger than you having been something that you aren't anymore."

Vaggie: "But I still hurt you with it! And there were years when you thought we could be close without you getting hurt at all. That's why you even trusted me, right?"

Charlie: "You make it sound like I planned it out. Vaggie, I just, I kept waking up happy. Everyday, I was just glad you were here."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I am happy you're here."

Vaggie: "..."

Vaggie: "...past me was so stupid, Charlie."

Charlie: "She was scared. When I thought maybe you didn't really want to be here with me, I got scared too."

Vaggie: "And angry."

Charlie: "You think so?" (chuckles) "So did I fool you?"

Vaggie: "Fool me? Sweetie, you were glaring daggers. Completely deserved daggers but yeah, I did notice them."

Charlie: "I was scared I'd cry every time I looked at you. I HATED not being sure I could hug you, or if I ever would again, and putting on an angry face helped me not, well, break down ugly sobbing."

Vaggie: "It's okay if you were angry, that's a normal thing when-"

Charlie: "I was upset! But if I'd been pissed at you, my horns would've been out. Where they ever?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "No~"

Vaggie: "... I've another stupid confession-"

Charlie: "I'm vetoing that word!"

Vaggie: "Alright alright." (laughs) "I've got another HONEST confession to make."

Charlie: "I'd love to hear it."

Vaggie: "I was. A little. Disappointed seeing you with Seviathan."

Charlie: "I wasn't with him-"

Vaggie: "Talking to him. Whatever."

Charlie: "Okay. Why?"

Vaggie: "This is gonna sound horrible."

Charlie: "You're judgement on horrible stuff to do with you is a liiiiittle bit skewed so maybe get a second opinion? Like mine?"

Vaggie: "..... you weren't pissed off just from seeing him."

Charlie: "I mean I wouldn't say I was happy about it either-"

Vaggie: "You're horns weren't out."

Charlie: "No?"

Vaggie: "You weren't even glaring."

Charlie: "Glaring at what, he was just standing there with his hand on my arm- Oh."

Vaggie: "Yeah."

Charlie: "OH!"

Vaggie: "I was more than one kind of jealous."

Charlie: "Vaggie- that-" (burst into giggles) "I didn't even notice he was doing that! It's probably just muscle memory for him!"

Vaggie: "Yeah." (growls) "I figured."

Charlie: "Awww my poor girl~"

Vaggie: "Ugh."

Charlie: "Don't worry, I know what will cheer you right up! You wanna hear how I almost threw him out of the hotel after you left?"

Vaggie: "...You told him to get out?"

Charlie: "Threw, Vaggie. Physically. Almost right out the door."

Vaggie: "Seriously?" (looks up) (grinning) "What'd he do?"

Charlie: "He asked if you were s- uhhhhhhhhhh that's not the important point! Point is, I was PISSED, and if YOU want to keep using his picture as a dart board for your spear throwing time then that's fine by me!!"

Vaggie: "Thanks babe." (smooch) "Talking is good, doing the talking with you feels good, but stabbing also makes me feel better too."

Charlie: "Really? How much better?"

Vaggie: "Wanna find out?"

Charlie: "Oh I shouldn't..."

Charlie: (looks thoughtfully at seviathan's picture)

Vaggie: (offers spear)

Charlie: "....but maaaabye... if it helps me understand MY girlfriend better..." (takes spear)

Vaggie: "Lot of emphasis on the 'my' part there, babe."

Charlie: "Well you are! Mine. My girlfriend."

Vaggie: "As your girlfriend I could stand behind you and correct your stance if you wanted me to."

Charlie: "With your hands on my hips?"

Vaggie: "Where else?"

Charlie: (grinning) "Nowhere."

[belphiesreverie]

Hello! May I please request a platonic yandere Dottore? With a prodigy reader he came across at the Academia?

Take care!

Ofc, tysm for the request!! 🫶

TW: yandere behaviour, manipulation, Dottore himself is a warning tbh

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. He’s absolutely plotting on how to convince you to join him the moment he sees your talent

He’s incredibly charismatic when first approaching you, knowing just what to say to get you to trust him. To open up to him about your struggles at the academia and keeping up with the demand at the level your teachers expect from you

He plays the sympathetic, understanding role well; you truly feel like he gets what you’re going through, the struggles of being put on a pedestal and expected to out perform yourself over and over. He feels like a mentor you can trust, or maybe even close to an older brother

And that’s when he proposes that you come work on a project with him instead. You don’t need the academia, he’ll provide you with a job. It’ll be low stress, working with someone you think you know well, and in a field you’re most interested in

It feels too good to be true, but Dottore assures you his offer is real. Has he ever lied to you before? So you take the leap and leave the academia to work directly under him

Dottore thinks that for a prodigy, you can be incredibly stupid sometimes

At first, the job seems exactly as Dottore had described it and you settle in quite quickly. He seems like a very understanding boss, and still just as kind as he was before you began working under him

There are a few questionable things about his lab that you start to notice as you spend more time there however

The other workers refuse to talk to you, some even outright avoiding looking at you, and the ones that you attempt to talk to too many times seem to get… transferred to another part of the lab

Sometimes you feel like you can hear screaming coming from distant parts of the lab, but Dottore always assures you it’s just your imagination, or the pipes making a strange sound etc. He always has an excuse prepared, but they seem to convince you less and less each time

There are security cameras in the rooms, which makes sense, but they give you a feeling of unease. Whenever you look up at them, it feels as if they’re always pointing directly at you, following your every move

Originally, you’d felt like you could bring these issues up to Dottore, but for some reason it doesn’t seem like an option anymore. It’s not like he’s directly given you a reason to distrust him yet… but you’ve just started to feel uncomfortable in his presence. What once felt like a safe space now feels like it’s constricting and oppressive

Dottore is no idiot, he can tell you’re starting to pull away from him. But he isn’t concerned. He knew you’d start to notice things eventually, it’s not like he was ever planning on keeping anything hidden. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon. Oh, but you are quite the genius aren’t you

He’ll leave you be for now, let you stew in your paranoia… maybe even feed into it a little bit. It is quite amusing to watch you pretend to stay composed. But the moment you start to think of leaving, he’ll step in to keep you exactly where he wants you

His word alone won’t be enough to quell you at this point, he’ll have to think of something more… permanent. But it’ll be worth it. He can’t have his favourite little worker running off on him after all, he still has so much more use for that magnificent brain of yours

[emilibro]

Ughhh I'm so sorry to be an ass but I see so much popular art on tumblr and around the internet that really woobifies both Laios and Kabru and their relationship, especially when they're together.... You guys are aware that Laios eats monsters the way people would like. Eat animals, right? He's not crazy or stupid or sadistic or anything. He has a special interest and it's monsters.

Furthermore, his past having himself and his sister be shunned for their interests in the abnormal made him develop a distaste for humanity. Laios has just thought monsters were way cooler since he was a kid, and Falin really looked up for him for his dedication to his interests and personal code of moral ethics. He never loved his sister less for her abilities, he admired her for what made her different. Because he's fucking awesome and they're autistic as hell.... they both went through so damn much. Laios never fit into the military, into his hometown, he barely fit into most groups of adventurers since he met Marcille, chilchuck, and company, and two of the members of that original party didn't care enough to join him. His feeling of worthlessness to his friends in the beginning of the story are enough to make him imagine a whole scenario in between major chapters where he was the one who was eaten.. and he thought nobody except Falin would care enough to save him.

Point being Laios has a much richer character that goes ALONGSIDE his special interest in monsters. Which honestly is more comparable to, like. A fucking biologist. Not a monsterfucker, not a cannibal, none of that shit. Monsterfuckers are cool as a monsterfucker but he's not one.. he's more like a furry man.... And he's not stupid he's just. Autistic. Why are we making autistic characters with a silly side seem stupid? Everyone has dumb moments sure but like.. he's really smart guys... there's a reason he's such a good leader outside of his ability to listen to his party members. Don't fall for the mischaracterization of Laios that his party members originally set for him before major important arcs guys...

And Kabru. Oh my God. Kabru. Kabru is also autistic but for humans, social interactions and culture... he's a nerd for politics and the humanities, and I'll avoid saying much more to avoid spoilers for non-manga readers but you'll see more of that as time passes. But he's not the type to be easily flustered. Laios only gets to him, not even because he's that difficult to read, but because he catches him off guard. He's an interesting critter, bro. And Kabru definitely sees that. It takes time to respect that, but within a period of time he learns to see him as a relatively competent adventurer and places a lot of faith from him. On some level, this guy has learned to understand this very interesting autistic guy who is forward with his feelings that a very autistic Kabru hasn't learned to understand. That's what makes their relationship so cool, man. He's not cold in reality (though people may perceive him that way due to backstory motivations and attitude within the dungeon), but he's a lot more serious than this... c'mon guys.. let's be a little real here please.... at this point I barely like Labru anymore because they've been so like. Babied. Woobified. Whatever the word is man. I'm starting to appreciate their friendship more as a friendship now because I just think the beautiful qualities I saw in their romance have been sort of overlooked or misinterpreted. Nowadays I just think their platonic relationship is beautiful. Sighs.

Farcille is awesome though and these girls are awesome slay

-

Edit: hey guys, I wanna address a couple of things here! For one, this isn't intended to be ship hate. Labru is a perfectly valid ship - rather, I'm just not a fan of how deep the mischaracterization of both characters runs, and how it results in the subsequent babying of their relationship. While it's driven me personally away from the romance a bit, I have no problem with the ship itself. Additionally, Farcille has its own issues with woobification that could use some addressing, I just haven't had to see as much mischaracterization on my feeds. Maybe in a future post I'll address some of my personal peeves with many people's characterization of Farcille, ESPECIALLY Falin.

[mylesimeblr]

Prompt: Aonung is terrible at courting Spider.

It’s not that Jake isn't happy Spider is finally getting some attention… He is! He knows how lonely the kid has been feeling lately. It was hard to watch him so depressed. They never talked about it but Jake knows he probably didn’t have the best of times with the RDA. Jake knows them. He knows what they’re capable of. And he found the kid bruised and looking very tired. What happened with Neytiri on the ship clearly didn’t help their relationship. His mate had always disliked Spider, even though the kid tried really hard to fit in.

He was afraid settling up with the Metkayina would be hard for Spider. It was, at the beginning. They were very distrustful of humans and Jake couldn’t exactly blame them. But eventually, they warmed up to him and Spider even made some friends.

And Jake was happy for the kid.

Until he wasn’t anymore.

There was one thing he hadn’t anticipated. That no one had anticipated to be honest. The effect of human pheromones on young Na’vi… Spider was growing into a man and the hormones his body was producing in immense quantities were particularly effective on coming of age Na’vi… Making him extra attractive all of a sudden.

And the courting began.

It was cute at first when the Metkayinia girls offered Spiders weaved items and flowers. Spider didn’t really get it and was very confused at first. But it was cute and Jake was glad the boy was being noticed. This would do some good to his ego and Eywa knows the boy needs the boost. But when males began to bring extra fish for Spider or impress him with their skills, Jake couldn’t help but frown. It’s not that he disapproves of males courting each other - he’s not from the twentieth century after all! But there were obvious physical differences between the Na’vi and Spider that had Jake slightly worried. The girls were already taller than Spider and would get much bigger with time. But girls were less scary than those young warriors in training. Sure, they were bigger and stronger but there was something about the broad male bodies and their large items that positively terrified Jake for Spider safety..

As selfish as it was, he secretly hoped those courtship gifts wouldn’t go anywhere and that the young Metkayina were only interested in Spider because of the hormones he was releasing and the fact that he was exotic. It was selfish to think this way, he knew it… Lo’ak and Tsireya were courting and Kiri had caught the eye of Rotxo. And Jake was happy for his kids. Tsireya was kind and a good balance to Lo’ak’s fiery temper. And Rotxo loved Kiri for all she was.

So wishing that Spider’s suitors would get bored early in the process was not exactly nice.

But Jake wasn’t stupid. Courtship was not just about gifts. When a courtship was accepted and succeeded, it led to activities Spider’s human body was absolutely not suited for. Jake didn’t want to think about it - out of respect for Spider. But watching yet another bulky boy bring Spider his catch of the day and give the human a look that couldn’t be described as anything but suggestive, Jake saw red.

Fortunately, Spider didn’t seem interested - or he probably didn’t really understand. And Jake was relieved.

But then, Tonowari’s son, Aonung, of all people, decided to join the list of suitors and the young male took things to the next level, courting Spider the manly way. If the other Na’vi had been rather shy and offered a couple of gifts before backing away, Aonung did not and his courting methods were rather… questionable at best - aggressive and really not effective from Jake’s opinion.

The young Metkayina almost buried Spider under a mountain of fish daily, knocking the poor human into the sand once after throwing a much, much too large fish his way and Spider remained stuck under the weight of the thing, only the tip of his fingers popping from the sand, desperately wiggling to get free.

He also took Spider on his Skimwing for a ride that was, as far as Jake was concerned, everything but romantic. The young Na’vi sped up a bit too much, way too eagerly, and Spider’s light human weight was promptly ejected and crashed into the sea in a flash of tangled blond hair.

When he decided to take Spider for a swim, he led him to a shallow creek that was only shallow for Na’vi. When Spider jumped off the Skimwing, expecting to wade into the water, his feet touched only nothingness and Aonung saw the boy disappear at the bottom of the spring in a loud Blouf. Aonung pulled him back to the surface, but gripped him too hard and bruised a rib with his much superior strength, leaving Spider to be bandaged and bed ridden for three weeks.

This was the worst courting Jake had ever seen. But the real worst was that Spider had no idea Aonung was trying to court him at all. For Spider, Aonung was either trying to get him killed or befriend him the Akula way.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Mango Bat; Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Okay, so not an alien, just like, I dunno, a second-gen immigrant,” Bernard says, and Kon blinks at him a couple of times and is sort of, like, low-key fascinated by the dude’s brain for a moment. That is like, practically Bart-levels of “random shit that only makes sense in your own head”, but much better-translated for the outside people. “. . . this is not my fault, okay, you’re way too hot for me to make sense and act like a normal person in front of. Also we’re in Gotham and you have to understand that skews the ‘normal’ scale so much, okay?” 

“It’s fine, dude, I’ve heard way weirder,” Kon replies, kinda amused because Bernard’s wincing kinda awkwardly and doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands anymore, and then just smirks a bit and leans in to nip at the other’s lower lip. Why not, right? “It’s just kinda funny ‘cuz the awkward rambling thing makes you look stupid cute.” 

“Jesus,” Bernard mutters very feelingly, then grabs his face again and kisses him back hard. Kon purrs into it and pins him down heavier against the mattress again and gets a breathy little groan out of Bernard for it, plus a handful of very decided clicks from Tim’s camera. Kon is, like, very used to making himself look good for a camera, even now, and it’s not hard at all to make the stretch and display of his body pressing down against Bernard’s into something natural and easy-looking for the camera lens. It is natural, because it’s something he’s been doing since the day he was fucking decanted, and also it’s not like he didn’t get all that media training from Rex and even a bit from Cadmus’s original uploads and also in bits and pieces a dozen other places and counting. And if nothing else, the photogenic thing very literally paid the bills for a while in there. 

Doing it for Tim feels different, though. Showing off for Tim, displaying himself, framing Bernard just right with his body the same way he got taught to frame whatever pretty girl they threw him on-set with–

Except it’s not like being on a shoot or a set or anything like that. Not like doing some boring ad or magazine shoot with a photographer who isn’t interested in him as a person, just a paycheck, not like doing a thousand takes of some brain-dead commercial for some lame, useless product he doesn’t give a shit about, and not like Rex trying to get him to take “candid” pics for social media shit or anything like that, or even just some random civilian who just wants a selfie or anything like that. 

Which, like–most of those photos don’t even exist anymore. Just about all of them don’t, in fact. 

Kon’s good at being photographed–one of the few things he was always good at, that always came natural and that he learned inside and out and just had an actual talent for–but that doesn’t actually matter anymore because everything he got good at it for doesn’t even exist now. Isn’t even remembered, mostly. 

But–Tim likes to take pictures. He’s always liked to take pictures. And right now, Tim wants to take pictures of him. Ones he maybe really does wanna keep, even. 

That’s–that’s a thing that Kon’s thinking about, right now.

[ropebunnykant]

I've seen a lot of ppl frustrated at Kant/the Captain for meeting up outside the bar, but my take on it was that was a deliberate power play by CC (not that I don't think he's inept enough to do so out of sheer stupidity!) - Kant had clearly been ignoring his calls, as implied by his convo with Style and explictly seen in his convo with Bison (and when he says he's sick of his 'customer' flip-flopping and doesn't want to talk to him anymore, that's obviously a declaration of intent vis a vis continuing his relationship with the police), and what do cops do when their informants aren't co-operating? They pile on the pressure. And one way to do so is to turn up in front of their informants in public spaces, because they are happy to use the threat of blowing their cover as leverage - talk to us, or else we'll make sure everyone sees/knows what you are. Wouldn't surprise me if they had someone tracking Kant and CC sent him a message along the lines of 'either you come out or we come in.' Look at Kant's body language - he doesn't want to be there, he's frustrated, he's on edge, but at this point he's also visibly exhausted and probably on some level thinking slightly self-destructively - if he gets caught then at least it'll be over, at least CC can't use him anymore, at least he doesn't have to tell Bison himself and see with his own eyes what the truth does to him.

I know fandom in general is sympathetic to the ACAB sentiment, but I'm getting the feeling ppl don't fully appreciate just how fucked up the dynamic between a handler and an informant can be at the best of times, let alone when the handler is corrupt or at the very least abusing their position! I've seen (valid) accusations of grooming levelled against Lilly, but it's not something that only happens to children - all it takes is a significant power differential and someone who is at risk. And we've seen CC using the classic combo of praise and pressure - he switches from flattering Kant ('I know you can do this', 'you certainly lived up to my expectations') to threatening him (which goes beyond the initial outright blackmail - when he says stuff like 'you think they'll let you live once we arrest them?', that is a threat, that is him saying to Kant: we won't protect you - you quit now, you're on your own).

I really appreciated your tags on the height as power play thing, because that jumped out at me when I watched that scene, and it was so sad seeing Kant desperately trying to wrest back the upper hand and suddenly looking so much younger and more vulnerable as soon as CC stood up. And I admit we're veering into fanon rather than canon now, but it just makes me even more curious about his timeline - how old he was when he got caught? Did CC start off as a sort of quasi-father figure? Is that how he reeled him in? Did it begin, not with blackmail, but with manipulating Kant into wanting his approval? Perhaps my most burning question, however, is: what if this isn't even the first time he's been used as a honeytrap?? And I know it's most likely just First being incaptable of not having ridiculous chemistry with every single man who so much as breathes in his vicinity (let's face it, there's a reason the top three 'ghost ship' pairings on that poll are all First-based! But isn't it also because of the potential Kant brings as a character - the potential backstory tween him and Style/CC, the potential hate-sex with Fadel...), rather than anything deliberate but...the *vibes*! If you lean into that side of things and headcanon that yes, Kant did in fact fuck that cop, then phew, there is SO much to unpack there!

This is why I don't get viewers sleeping on Kant - imo he's the most interesting character! There are so many layers! Out of the main four, we probably know the least about him, and part of that is because we can't even trust that what we've ostensibly learned is even true! That whole riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma thing? That's him! And not even because he's that complicated a person deep down - most of the meta I've read here has, I reckon it'll turn out, already nailed it. It's just that a combo of the tricksy and subtle way he's been written/played and the narrative role he's been given requires us to do some of the legwork ourselves (by which I apparently mean, you know, actually paying attention and caring??) to determine what in his words/actions/feelings/face is authentic and what's not, and when, and why, etc (heaven forbid we have to read between the lines!). Maybe some more casual viewers aren't used to that in their bls, and I totally get that ppl go into shows for different reasons and some just want the light entertainment/aesthetic appreciation of it all and aren't interested in deep dives and 10,000 word analyses, and that's absolutely their prerogative! We've all been there! But equally, you don't then get to complain about the writing/acting/characterisation when, by choice, you've skipped/missed/misinterpreted what's being put onscreen (disclaimer: I'm not saying no criticism allowed - there's things I'd have tweaked - just not when it's unfounded cos it's based on viewer indifference/ignorance). I don't want to use the term 'spoon-feeding', it feels ungenerous, and yet...!

Eek, this got away from me. Long story short: don't underestimate the lengths CC will go to just to keep Kant dancing to his tune, including risking his cover by showing up outside his favourite bar!

first of all, thank you for such a long ask, i love getting things like this in my inbox and be prepared for an equally long essay of my own shskdhd i will put it under a cut since your ask in itself is pretty long, but i agree with everything you said basically

i feel like every complaint i hear about kant just leaves me so very baffled. like at a certain point, you’re just coming up with reasons to be mad at him. and like i really wish that people would just fess up to the fact that they just don’t like him. that fundamentally something about him annoys them and that’s okay! you don’t need to like every character, but it pisses me off when people try to justify their dislike of anything by pulling reasons out of their ass. and like, okay, i understand that i obviously over analyze the shit out media i enjoy, and there are a lot people that don’t do that and watch with their brain turned off or just don’t put all the little things together. and that’s fine, but if you’re gonna complain about things at least make sure you’re complaining accurately. like some people didn’t even realize that christ was a cop until ep6 and apparently thought kant was doing it all for money?? when in their FIRST scene together, it is made explicitly clear that not only is christ a cop, but that kant is being blackmailed into this in order to keep his brother in his custody. you may not personally agree with everything he does, you may disagree how much of a choice he has in everything he does, but that does not change his motivations or the power that christ holds over him - and if you don’t realize at least those things, it’s not even a matter of media literacy, you are just not paying attention! or you’re skipping scenes and like, im not telling you how to enjoy shows, if you wanna skip scenes go ahead! but you can’t then complain about things that aren’t actually happening just because you tried to piece together what happened in the scenes you skipped 💀

and this complaint is especially silly because not only does kant explicitly emphasize that he’s been avoiding the captain and therefore we can assume the captain showed up to put pressure on him, but i feel like it’s been made pretty obvious that he doesn’t really have a choice in the meet up spots regardless? like they either meet at the police station/christ’s office, or he shows up in places that kant already is to talk to him, like the pool or the bar. so, i feel like getting mad at kant for that is so stupid? especially considering even IF meeting at the bar had been kant’s decision… he didn’t know bison was gonna show up?? he thought bison was in hiding and it’s his friend’s bar, so it’s a perfectly reasonable place for him to be and to be willing to meet up with the captain like?? he could not have predicted bison showing up after disappearing for a week post-failed murder attempt. like be serious.

when it comes to the acab aspect, i think trying to dive into people’s actual beliefs on that is a can of worms that will not end well shskdhd but in the very least, looking at it from a media perspective, i think in general people expect us to be supposed to root for the cops. like whether or not what you personally believe, the general sentiment in most media is that the cops are the good guys - because that’s the way we’re trained to believe that in society at large, so more often than not, it’s assumed that the cops in most shows are the good guys.

however, when you walk into a show like the heart killers, where 3/4 of our main protagonists are criminals (two murders and a former car thief) and the genre is explicitly a romcom, you have to also understand that the cops in a show like that are not gonna be the good guys! and i think in general, you have to be willing to understand that your personal morals and beliefs are not going to line up with the things these characters are doing. this is a show about assassins! if you’re going to try and argue for who’s morally in the right or who’s the most fucked up one, maybe this isn’t the show for you. and that’s okay!

all that to say you SHOULD be suspicious of the captain and his intentions - you should not trust him as some morally good figure because he’s been explicitly shown to be blackmailing and manipulating kant in all of this! he is a villain, explicitly so. and while i know we don’t have an exact age for when kant’s parents died and he had to start raising babe or for when he got caught, it’s very safe to assume this has been a long time thing. kant says their dad died young, babe says that kant raised him, so kant had to have been young when he had to start taking care of babe, and i’m assuming also pretty young when he got caught for his car thefts. so, it would not at all shock me if the captain saw a young, college-aged kant, who’d just lost his father and was desperately trying to keep himself and his pre-teen brother afloat, and saw an opportunity to put on the mentor role and mold this kid into what he wanted and needed. i think the lilly comparison makes perfect sense - because we’ve already been shown time and time again the similarities between the captain and lilly and the ways they manipulate kant, bison, and fadel. this being another way theyre similar would be no shock to me.

nor would it be a shock if the captain also made the relationship sexual at some point and kant having daddy issues and therefore being into it makes perfect sense as well shskdhd like you said i think it’s a combo of first having insane chemistry with everyone but also just kant’s character making these dynamics interesting - which is why first was the perfect casting choice they could have made shskdhd kant’s character in general is exceptionally fascinating to me, but i feel like i’ve made that pretty obvious with all my kant posting, and i don’t get how anyone can just write him off or view him as being one dimensional in anyway when he has SO MANY layers to him. he’s incredibly complex and that’s what i adore about him.