#that's the only way anyone will ever trust you

[mrpinchy]

i agree the left needs to be more welcoming to those who manage to escape the alt-right pipeline, but also, i can't blame anyone for distrusting someone who, at one point, made hating *you* and destroying *your* community their whole personality.

and like, i get it. it's hard to admit you're wrong especially when you're really fucking wrong. i get what alt-right refugees are saying about feeling like they're not welcome in healing spaces.

but i also feel like experiencing a little discomfort from the community they previously tried to harm is a small price to pay for, yknow, doing all that harm.

i understand we need to coddle these people cuz they're obviously very broken and confused but yeah, social consequences are somethin we all have to deal with.

[narcjsistx]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆... | sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, kaiser micheal

part two with reo, rin and bachira soon!!

plot: you're in a nonpublic relationship, but one gesture in particular blows your cover <3

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— sae itoshi

That you had always been attracted to impossible things was not unknown: as a child you loved unicorns, one of the most imaginative and magical creatures ever. You believed you could love even something impossible, and the same thing had more or less happened when you met your boyfriend, Sae Itoshi. Sae was something impossible, out of your reach for the simple fact that you were a very normal person when he was one of the most famous U-20 soccer players in the world and, above all, of the moment

Sae was impossible, and you had always liked the impossible. That's how you liked to tell your mother when she asked how you ended up in a relationship with him. Known for a big misunderstanding in a public laundry, for a reason still unknown to you, fate had decided that this was not the last time you would see each other

The choice had come when Sae had explicitly asked you for it: not that he was ashamed of you or anything like that, but fame brings negative things as well as positive ones. One of them was privacy. Although after years he was used to invasions of privacy even during a walk, he didn't want to ruin what had always been normality for you. So no one, other than your families and a few friends of yours, knew about you two

And so, a little over a year after you had made it official only to your families that you were together as a couple, the thing that was impossible for you was how your cover was still standing. You didn't mind being in a nonpublic relationship, in fact you found it more pleasant and intimate, but Sae was famous all over the world: you knew that sooner or later everything would collapse like a house of playing cards

And evidently that day was today

"So, who is she?" his teammate asks again, the Spanish accent thick in every word. Your fingers tighten around the handles of his sports bag, desperately searching for a way that doesn't confirm what practically everyone in the room has already assumed. 10 pairs of eyes stare at you curiously, waiting for either you or Sae to speak and make up an excuse that they can deny

The last match that ReAl had won against an equally Spanish team had ended less than an hour ago. It was Valentine's Day, and the stadium where the match was played had made VIP seats available to which only the players partners could access. The partners had a card previously given by the boyfriends which gave the possibility of walking in certain areas of the stadium, one of which was the locker room. You had remained in the popular stands for the entire match, and after the end you had decided to use your VIP pass, which Sae had given you a few days before, to go and congratulate and surprise him. You had purposely waited a full hour to get in just so all the other teammates would leave, but apparently something had been holding them back

The players didn't know you, it was a secret relationship after all. The partners who usually came to see their boyfriends knew each other, and Sae was still the only one no one had ever seen with a girl. Everything fit with the perfect fall of the cover that you had so carefully supported

"umh" you stutter embarrassed. The most damning proof you have is undoubtedly the Sae sports bag you have in your hands, which stands out for its black color instead of the white and red that ReAl uses. You take a few steps back, not knowing at all how to escape the situation, much less where Sae is, who you don't even see in the locker room. His stuff is here, his teammates are here, but where is he dammit?

"We've never eaten anyone, or at least off the field" says a boy who gets up, making the rest of his teammates laugh. You recognize him for being a braggart that Sae tells you about every now and then, who has 100 girls and every game brings a new one. You roll your eyes at the tasteless joke, trying not to let your annoyance show

"I probably went to the wrong locker room, please excuse me..." you say turning on your heel, heading towards the exit, but the boy's hand grabs your wrist just enough to make you immobilize "It's not a problem, you don't have to apologize. But I don't think you're here by mistake..." the boy says laughing cheerfully, and really, you don't understand all his humor. You try to free yourself from the grip on the wrist, but the soccer player doesn't seem to give in as he makes some of his teammates laugh with sleazy jokes

“Could you let go of my wrist?” you say trying to sound polite, but he shakes his head "We need to figure out who your boyfriend is first! Victor, is she your girlfriend?" the boy asks, making you turn towards another guy, who obviously shakes his head "Sanchez, is this yours?" he asks another again, and you can't explain why you have to suffer such humiliating treatment if you haven't actually done anything wrong

"Arion, is it your-" the boy says, but someone interrupts him "She's my girlfriend."

Everyone turns towards the voice, including you: Sae, fresh out of the shower wearing sweatpants and a simple towel around his neck, peeks out from the locker room showers. His eyes waver a little at seeing you here, surprised at the whole situation and above all not understanding how you ended up here. He tilts his head, his usual apathetic look at the boy next to you "You should let go her wrist" he says taking a few steps forward, the usual nonchalance typical of his character. "Oh! Oh, yes" says the boy, immediately pulling away, taking a few steps back. The grip on your wrist releases, easing the pressure you had built up. You breathe a sigh of relief, but at the same time remember what situation you are in: the relationship that you had covered for so long has just come to light

You look up at Sae, who you think is the least bit angry, but there isn't a shred of anger in his face, in fact, he almost seems relieved. He comes in front of you, taking his sports bag that you had in your hands "Thanks. Two minutes and we can go" he says putting it back on the floor, putting a clean t-shirt on and putting the towel back on in his black bag. You look at him embarrassed, not daring to look at any of his teammates who have remained silent in the meantime

Sae stands up, holding his bag with one hand and grabbing yours with the other, letting your palms and fingers connect "Let's go" he says, nodding his head. You leave the locker room, everyone's gaze still on you. Start walking towards the back of the stadium, heading towards the car parks dedicated to the players cars. A slight, uncomfortable silence hangs between you two, and you wonder if he's simply thinking of a way to restore everything to how it was and make your relationship nonpublic again

"It wasn't that bad anyway. You can ask your teammates to just shut up" you say, looking down, but a light squeeze on your hand makes you look up in his direction “Huh?” he asks, and you try to sound clearer "For the relationship. You can tell your classmates not to talk-" you say, but he cuts you off even before you finish "Do you want to make it nonpublic again?" he asks, and you find yourself thinking about it

Being nonpublic had never been a problem for you, you appreciated that Sae cared so much about your privacy. On the other hand, your privacy never really mattered much to you: you wanted to walk with him and hold his hand even in front of a crowd, not pretend not to know him as often happened. If being with him meant sacrificing something, you would have done so immediately and without even thinking about

“I'm actually okay with being public-” you say and at the same moment you see him sigh more calmly “What is it?” you ask curiously "I've been waiting a long time to ask you this. But I didn't want to seem hypocritical since I asked you to make it nonpublic" Sae says, and almost immediately you smile at his words

The impossible was something that actually often actually happened. It had happened that you got dating to the prodigy of Japan, and it was happening now when you were officially made his girlfriend for all his fans and the world

— shidou ryusei

“You went too far as usual” you say, rolling your eyes, albeit amused. Shidou chuckles, buttoning up the buttons that hide your chest “You should be used to it” he says looking up after finishing his work. You laugh softly, still amazed at how you let yourself be dragged into such a situation. But then you think about it and you understand that avoiding these situations with your boyfriend is far too difficult. Shidou cups your face in his hands, tilting your head slightly to look at his beautiful work: two red and purple marks stand out from many other small ones. He observes them with a certain pride, stroking the bite mark he left on you with his thumb

“I don't think this was the break the director intended” you say, walking towards the door, reluctantly releasing the grip Shidou had. You hear him murmuring something, but you don't pay attention to it as you brush your hair to the side, leaving the hickeys on your neck visible: you have to walk in an empty corridor and you're hot, so you're not at risk. You place your hand on the doorknob, headed to exit and return to the car, but you are petrified when the entire corridor turns out to be filled with journalists

You stand there, motionless, and Shidou appears behind you, also intending to leave. He stands still, but less shocked, a few steps behind you. Everyone turns in your direction, and an awkward silence hangs in the narrow space delimited by the walls. Many, if not all, notice the red marks on your neck and there are more than a few surprised expressions. Some cameras turn towards you, some journalists take their microphones in case the situation requires them

And you immediately regret having, for the umpteenth time, indulged Shidou's shitty ideas. You knew you had to wait for him in the car so that he could go home with you at the end of the interview, but his messages had convinced you that there was no harm in sneaking out for a few minutes. While you were waiting he had sent you messages telling you that his interview was late and that the director had advised him to go to a private room to relax before his shift. He had asked you to come in to keep him company, that you could sneak in for a few minutes since the corridors were empty, and that he simply needed you. And so you found yourself against the wall with your boyfriend's lips on your neck, killing time until his interview

But evidently something had gone wrong with the program in mind, because now you had more than 100 journalists waiting their turn and now they had a front page story. You and him had been together for a while, and the agreement between you was to keep your relationship nonpublic for a while because the media often went heavy on their idols partners

But the cover seemed to have been blown

"Shidou, Shidou Ryusei? With a mysterious girl?" says a journalist, directing the microphone at you "The king of the penalty area with a woman?" someone else says, and from then on you just hear everyone else making up name after name as they try to get some information out of you two

"Holy shit" you whisper to yourself, covering your hickeys with your hair, even though everyone has noticed them by now. You die of embarrassment at all these eyes staring at you, and the best option at the moment seems to be going back into the room and hoping that this is all just a trick your mind is playing on you. You knew that sooner or later you would make it official, but you didn't think this way and especially with you in these conditions. It all looked perfectly like the most colossal figure of shit the human lifeform had ever seen in this shitty life

You look for Shidou, but when you turn you can't find him anymore. You wonder if he seriously followed the advice to go back to the room and hope it's all a dream, but you know that's not your man's style: instead you feel your shoulders surrounded by his arm, which promptly squeezes you to the point of keeping you by your side alongside. You turn towards him, and on his face you notice that his usual smirk that never leads to anything good. Something's about to explode

"Ladies, gentlemen! One at a time, please" he says loudly, and the attention they previously had on you shifts to him, who has always dominated the scene better in a frighteningly natural way "This racket for WHAT? Two red marks? You've never seen worse, then" he says, and as you thought his joke provokes a small laugh from everyone

The journalists try to get the best place in front of you, and perplexed you turn to Shidou "Don't do anything I might regret" you say almost in a whisper, but he grins "Let me do it, babe. I tied them to my finger like fish to a fishing line" he says confidently, and it's his confidence that worries you. Some journalist raises the microphone, firing off questions that you don't even understand because of the speed. Shidou still doesn't understand them, and after several attempts he gives up; he waves his hand, moving the microphones away

"I thought I would talk today about my relationship with the beautiful girl in question here, but evidently the scoop will go to you and not to the agency we are in" he says dramatically, as if he actually regretted giving information to others. "What did you want to do?" you whisper perplexed, not knowing that his goal today was to make it official anyway. Shidou turns to you, grabs your waist and bends your back, his chest smeared against his “Media, meet my fucking beloved girlfriend!” he says, kissing you. Confused, you don't know how to react, but shortly after you give in and respond to the kiss, placing your hand against his face. The journalists explode, the cameras start filming and broadcasting. It's an understatement that you have shocked the media for at least the next few days, but with Shidou in the end everything is unpredictable and without explosions

It wasn't the way you expected to make it official, but as long as it works it's fine, right?

— micheal kaiser

The subtle smell of french fries hung in the air, mixing with the light air that resonated in the club. Everyone's chatting made the evening pleasant, which actually seemed to go too well

Hamburg was huge as a city, Ness himself recognized it, yet he had lived there for a good part of his life before moving to Berlin on the campus of Bastard Munchen. You had been here a few other times, and you had fallen in love with the small and cute clubs that the city offered

When you returned to the hotel room with Kaiser you had begged him to go out tonight, since you had arrived you had spent all your time at training or at the match, which had ended with the victory of the German team. And Kaiser has little chance of telling you no, it's something he just can't do: so, a few hours later, you and other team members found yourself in a club celebrating the victory. Sitting next to him you were calm, after all he was your boyfriend and his team knew about you two, unlike the rest of the world. However, being in a public place the only affectionate gesture you could allow yourself was his hand on your thigh, covered by the table and which no stranger could see

Everything was going well: Bastard Munchen had won today, tomorrow morning you would return home and take a few days break from being the team manager. Everything was perfect

But obviously perfection, even if sweated with difficulty and attention, does not last long

You were chatting with a team member when, from afar, you noticed a group of guys watching you. It was nothing new, the players were famous and you were also quite well known thanks to your role in the team. Kaiser notices the same thing, tilting his face towards the small crowd "You're wanted" you say jokingly, and he snorts in a mock annoyed way: you know how much he actually loves this attention from fans, which feeds his big ego. The guys step forward, followed by others and yet others, until the table is surrounded by all the guys shyly asking for an autograph or a photo

The group, made up of a girl and two boys, approaches Kaiser asking to take a photo. He accepts, reluctantly lifting the contact of his hand on your thigh, and you can read his slight annoyance in his cerulean eyes. You giggle a little at seeing him annoyed, but you don't let it show

Then, the dinner that was supposed to be quiet and a way to spend time with your boyfriend turns out to be yet another time when public life comes before private life; it doesn't make you sad though, because seeing Kaiser happy while talking to his fans makes you happy too

You stay to eat your chips and chat with Ness, who unlike Kaiser only had to sign a few quick autographs, and every now and then you glance at Kaiser who stayed behind to talk to the group of people. You notice how completely comfortable he seems, so you don't worry

But then something reaches your ear

"We are moving to another club to spend the rest of the night, would you join us?" a boy says, and the rest of the group nods. Kaiser is used to these somewhat sudden questions, fans often cross the line almost without wanting to "I can't guys. The team is celebrating together tonight" he says playing with a lock of his blue hair, and you try to be indiscreet in listening to the conversation

"What a shame..." says a boy, and Kaiser chuckles "I know guys. Maybe next time" he says, and he seems about to go back to the table, when the girl stops him by taking a few steps forward "Or maybe there's is it a girl you're waiting for?" the woman asks, and you immediately turn towards their direction, trying not to cough up what's in your mouth for the surprise

You see Kaiser a little perplexed, you notice it from the way he tilts his head trying to come up with an excuse that seems convincing "Maybe. But I shouldn't tell you, guys" he says, and this time you're the one who's perplexed

You see him turn towards you, just enough to give you a brief wink that you notice all too well. You pretend like you didn't see him, turning away, but you really don't understand where he's going with his speech. You've been together for quite a while and it's always been confidential for a matter of convenience, being nonpublic you had many pros but at the same time many cons. And at the time you had never talked about making it public, as much as you actually wanted to be like this

"Really? Are you in a relationship?" the boy asks, and Kaiser smiles satisfied "I don't know. Do you think I have it?" he asks, and everyone immediately nods "There are rumors that you are dating the German model who is always on the front page of Vogue" says one, but the other corrects him "What are you saying! He could be dating the girl he was spotted with last week passed in front of the city's cathedral" says the other, and you see in Kaiser's gaze an amusement you've never seen before. You nervously bite your nail, not knowing what he's doing and above all why he didn't complete the conversion a few minutes ago. What the fuck is going on?

"You're both wrong! The rumors all agree that he's dating the manager of Bastard Munchen, have you seen how they look at each other? Or how she's always the first one he greets when the players take the field?" says the girl very convinced, placing her hands on her waist

It is at that moment when all your beliefs fall away. You thought you hadn't made the situation so obvious, but evidently you failed

You turn towards them again, trying to hide the blush that you now know has taken up residence on your cheeks. Kaiser claps his hands happily "Right! I'm waiting for her" he says, and everyone in the group's jaw drops "Are you serious? Are you seriously with the manager?" the boy asks, and he nods. You notice too late how the girl, peeking out from Kaiser's figure, has noticed you: you hide your face by looking down, but it's too late now

"But she's here!" the girl says, and Kaiser rolls his eyes as if he hadn't noticed you “I know. My girlfriend, yu-hu Y/n!” he says, raising his hand to greet you as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell on a mere group of fans. You raise your face trying to look as calm as possible, as if everything is actually normal and your heart isn't going 100 times faster than normal. Kaiser comes closer, sitting next to you again and putting his arm around your shoulders, while the group looks at you surprised but happy "I don't like to keep my girlfriend waiting, guys. Have a good evening though!" he says, cuddling while you are literally trying not to start screaming

The guys nod, both saying goodbye and thanking Kaiser for his time. When they leave, you turn to him with the reddest face ever "What did you just do?!" you ask in surprise, but with his free hand he caresses your arm, making slow and gentle movements "Doing what I should have done a long time ago. Isn't it better this way, Schatz?" he asks. You suppress the urge to insult him, because the truth is, you too would have liked to make it official a long time ago

“Do you know that now you will have to confirm this to the whole world and not just to one group?” you ask with a sigh, relaxing the nerves that have been on edge for minutes. He smirks, nodding as he grabs his phone “I've had a post ready on Instagram for a while. It's been in the drafts for a long time, how about I post it now?” he asks, and you curse yourself for never being able to be mad at him

You both had each other's fingers tied, it was too obvious by now. Maybe it really was time to share your love with the world and not just with the team, as it has been until now

[literally-loco]

Lend a Hand? (18+)

Pairings : Johnny “Soap” Mactavish / Fem!Reader / Simon “Ghost” Riley Content Warnings : PIV Sex, Oral (Fem receiving) Voyeurism, She/Her pronouns used, [slut] used, praise Word Count: 3K A/N: This is my first time actually posting my writing-thank you SO much for reading xoxo

————————————————————————-

“You want me…to fuck your best friend?”

————————————————————————-

You almost dropped the dish you were scrubbing and looked over at your boyfriend in disbelief. Did he seriously just ask that, like it was nothing?

“What?” By the look on his face, you wondered if you’d misheard him. That was the face of someone asking what you wanted for dinner, or if you’d taken the bins out.

“What’d you say Johnny?” You asked, letting the plate fall softly back into the soap(hah funny) filled water.

“Simon. Think you’d ever fuck him?” He barely looked up from his phone, letting his arm drape lazily over the back of your well-loved sofa. It wasn’t your hearing messing up-he’d actually said that. You faltered slightly, turning around to look at your boyfriend.

“I mean-Johnny where’s this coming from?” You asked hesitantly. Johnny had never been an insecure boyfriend-he’d proudly show you off to his friends at any given chance. You’d be the one to choose the less revealing outfits, he was just so desperate to show his friends how lucky he got.

“He’s been in a bad mood lately. ‘Think he needs a good fuck.” Johnny finally met your gaze, placing his phone down on the console table to give you his full attention. “I haven’t said anything yet-not to him.” He clarified, clearing his throat as he spoke. ”I trust him to not be a stupid bastard-most of the time-and, you know, he’s not a bad looker-“

“You want me…to fuck your best friend?” You cut him off, a shocked look on your face. You hadn’t thought about it before, hell, Johnny hadn’t brought it up before. You’d never really thought of Simon in that way, the man that managed to darken any doorway with his sheer presence. The man with eyes so deep you could spend days exploring them. The man who never gave away so much as a hint of who he really was-the man who you could spend hours interrogating and all you’d get was a migraine.

“I mean, yeah? Only if you want to hen, completely up to you.” His words were gentle, not pushy or pressuring, but a question. “I’d be in the room with you, right next to you if you wanted. And it’s Simon-not just anyone, Si-“

“I’ll do it.” You answered-suddenly quite sure of yourself. You’d had sex with people other than Johnny, sure, but never whilst you were dating anyone. It was new, that’s for sure, but was new necessarily bad? Johnny would be right there-he said so, and it was Simon. You’d met him countless times. And he was Johnny’s best friend-his brother in arms.

“Grand, I’ll shoot him a message.”

————————————————————————-

Three days has passed since Johnny had sent the message, and all you’d got in response was “Ok.”.

You opened the door, expecting your shopping, and was instead met with the wall that was Simon. You felt warmth creep up your neck to your face as it dawned on you. Today was the day. What felt like minutes passed, and you were still stood in the doorway.

“Am I coming in?” His gruff voice asked, placing a gloved hand on the doorframe. You quickly moved to the side, and he walked his way in. “So we’re doin’ this?”

“Ah-yeah! You can still back ou-“

“No.” He cut you off, turning back to meet your gaze with those explorer worthy eyes. “I want to.” You just nodded, glancing back to wonder how a man could spend so long in the bathroom.

Johnny welcomed Simon soon after, pulling him into a hug, before leading him to the sofa. Unsure of how exactly this was going to go, you stood beside your boyfriend, letting a hand rest on his shoulder for comfort.

“Come sit down lass.” Johnny murmured, pulling you onto his lap as he continued talking to Simon about when they were next needed on base, the gentle rhythm of his finger gently stroking your thigh easing the building anxiety of what was to come.

“We doin’ this?” You glanced over at Simon’s sudden words, and caught sight of the small grin that had appeared on your boyfriend’s face. “Hope it’s not too..err..rushed-I assume Johnny already made out that I was some sex starved bastard.” Johnny snorted at that, his light strokes on your thigh soon turned into him gripping it tight, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.

“Bit eager to fuck my girl, aren’t you Simon?” His grip stayed firm, almost holding you in place on his lap.

“Never said I wasn’t, Johnny.” Simon retaliated, his gaze staying fixed on you, those blue eyes meeting your gaze beneath his ever so familiar mask.

“Ready hen?” You barely had time to choke out a small “Yes” before Johnny was lifting you up, and carrying you into your shared bedroom.

————————————————————————-

You were used to the familiar sense of Johnny tossing you onto the bed with the greed of a starved man entering a banquet, but this time he ever so gently placed you down.

His gaze turned to face the shadow darkening your door frame, and spoke firmly. “Traffic lights rule apply-Green for go, amber for slow down, red for stop.” He shifted his body so he was facing you, his perfectly blue eyes meeting your gaze. “You still wanna do this? You can back out anytime lovie-mean it. He won’t be mad-neither will I.” His tone was gentle, but firm in a way that evidenced he meant what he said. You met his lips with yours, planting a soft kiss on his.

“I know. I want to.” And you did. Three days had passed-but it had been on your mind. How Simon would be the one to fuck you. How the hands you’d ever only seen gloved would be all over you. You’d wondered how he’d fuck you-would he be gentle? All soft words and soft hands. Would he be rough? Moving you around as if you weighed nothing, whispering harsh words into your ear as he ravaged you. It was enough to get you flushed in bed, lying next to Johnny.

“Don’t just stand there then Simon-not when she’s already on the bed, looking this pretty for you.” Johnny sat down in the corner chair, his gaze never leaving Simon-as he watched him slowly walk up to the bed.

You’d never considered the size difference before this. Johnny was tall, yes, but Simon was big. He easily towered over you, even when he crawled onto the bed, right by your legs.

His hands slowly met your legs, and a shiver ran down your spine. Even with those gloves on, you could still feel the heat radiating from his body, a stark contrast to how cold you felt. Gently pushing your legs to the side-his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any hint of discomfort-he settled in between them, blocking out the brightness from the ceiling light.

His hands continued their wander, up your lower legs, over your knees, and settled on your thighs. “This okay?” His rough voice asked, and you nodded. “Need an answer, I asked you a question, didn’t I?” You hadn’t expected him to sound so assertive, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah-Yeah that’s okay.” You murmured, keeping your gaze on his masked face.

“Good.” His hands continued their journey, ending up on your waist, just under your shirt. “Want to lose this?” He gently teased the seam of your shirt, and you nodded once more. “Gotta speak up for me lovie.”

Once you’d consented, he carefully supported your back up, and lifted your shirt over your head.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He murmured-quiet enough that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear. His gloved hands ran up your torso,

thumbs gentry stroking the skin just under your bra-wire. You sat up, gently moving him off you to reach behind your back. Simon scooted back, confused at first and searching for the uncertainty in your eyes. But when your bra fell forward, and you tossed it off the bed, his eye lit up. “So eager for me..” He murmured, lunging forward with his mouth stopping just over your nipple.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You murmured, taking a deep breath when you realised what he was about to do.

Barely waiting a second after you answered, he reached up to lift the mask onto his nose, revealing his scarred mouth. In an instant, his mouth was on your nipple, licking and sucking on it as if he would never be able to again. One of his hands moved to tease your other nipple-drawing a soft, desperate sound out of you. He captures it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching slightly to harden it between his fingers.

Desperate to pull that beautiful sound out of you again, he swapped over, palming your now damn breast with the gloved palm of his hand. “Such pretty fucking tits.”

“Aren’t they just?” Johnny’s voice chimed in, and your gaze turned to him. He got up out of his chair, and strode over to the bed. Crouching beside you, he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Keep looking at him hen-keep those pretty eyes on him.” You nodded, turning your gaze back to Simon, and found his eyes staring up into yours. You’d never seen him so blissed before, suckling on your tit like he’d never see one again.

“You like that, eh? Having my best friends hands on you, teasing you, touching you?” Johnny murmured in your ear, and turned your face back when you went to look at him. “What did I say? Eyes on him.”

All you could do was let out a pretty whine when he pinched your nipple between his finger-sending jolts of pleasure down to your cunt, and earning a sharp inhale from Simon.

“She liked that, didn’t she L.T?”

Simon lifted his head, palming your breasts with his hands.

“You want some more hen? Is that it?” Your boyfriend murmured, and Simon’s hands slid off your tits, and down your torso until they rested on your hips. He-awkwardly-shuffled down the bed, until his head rested on your thigh.

“Are we losing these?” Simon murmured, his fingers resting on the hem of your shorts.

“Please…Simon..” You gasped, watching the small smirk appear on his face.

“So sweet for me-aren’t ya?” He breathed, gently pulling down your shorts and panties until you could kick them off.

“She’s awful sweet when she wants to get fucked.” Johnny chuckled, his hand on the back of your head to force your gaze down to Simon.

“All this, just from me worshiping those pretty tits?” You instinctively went to close your thighs, but his hands pushed them back open. “I’m not hearing red.” Simon’s eyes went up to meet yours, as he licked the first stipe up your folds.

You swear you met God.

A soft whine escaped your lips and the vibrations of his low chuckle ran up your spine. “So fucking sensitive-aren’t you?” You watched his eyes flutter shut as he darted his tongue over your bundle of nerves, and you couldn’t help but arch your hips into him.

Simon ate pussy like it was his last meal. He wasn’t sloppy, but you were sure the combined effort of his saliva and your wetness had made you a sopping mess for him. His hands left your inner thighs-and you didn’t quite understand why until you felt his thumb circling your clit. One gloved hand rested on your lower stomach, as you bucked your hips into his face. “Yeah-you’re real sensitive.” He murmured, his mouth taking over from his thumb, making what you assumed was a figure of eight over your clit.

With the ungloved hand-his middle finger gently teased your hole, until he pushed it inside to gently begin fucking you on his finger.

You definitely met God.

You should’ve guessed his hands would be thick-he was huge-but this was something else.

“You like that, hen? Knowing that my best friend is knuckle deep inside you, fingerfucking you.” Johnny whispered in your ear, planting soft kisses on the underside of your jaw. ”You love this. Knowing that whilst I’m planting kisses here-Simon is worshiping your drenched cunt.”

You bit your lip to stifle the gasps and whines that threatened to escaped, when something else pressed against your lips.

“Open.” Johnny murmured, and you tasted leather. Simon’s glove. “Bite down.” And you did-eyes rolling back as Simon added another finger inside you, stretching you.

“Ain’t that a sight L.T? These beautiful fucking tits, hard and wet, and her face blissed out whilst she has to bite down on your glove.”

You swear you heard Simon groan at the sight, increasing the speed of his hand, as his thumb found your clit again. Your back arched up at the sensation, and you heard him chuckle.

“Squeezing my fingers so fucking tight-you gonna cum? Going to cum on my fucking fingers?” All he got in response was your stifled whines, your gaze still meeting his. It was too much and not enough at the same time-your hips rocked against his hand, and the way his thumb drew circles on your clit had that tight knot inside you tightening, and tightening.

“C’mon lovie-cum for me.”

And all at once you felt that knot unravel-and you were soaring off the cliff. Simon’s hands gripped your shaking thighs, fingerfucking you through your orgasm. “Oh good girl…was that good? Looked so fucking good, didn’t she Johnny?” Simon murmured, planting soft kisses on your inner thighs.

“Looked beautiful hen.”

“Gonna let me fuck you doll?” Simon groaned, pulling his fingers free from your dripping wet pussy. “Gonna let me fuck you senseless, until you can’t even think?”

“Mmph-please Si..-“ You whined around his glove, clenching around nothing. Johnny chuckled, tilting your head up to face him. “Real fucking polite for someone fucking their boyfriends best friend.” He teased, forcing your head to look back at Simon.

You’d imagined a lot about this moment, but what you hadn’t considered was his size. Johnny was big, but Simon was huge. Uncut, and tilting slightly upwards, and perfect.

“God she’s drooling over it L.T.” Your boyfriend cooed, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Drooling all over that fucking glove.”

Simon crawled up the bed until he was kneeling between your legs, the tip of his cock just ghosting over your pussy. “It’ll hurt for a bit lovie, but I know you can take it. Red and we stop.” His hands gripped your hips, digging into the flesh hard enough you were sure it’d bruise. He was gentle at first-pulling your hips close so he could push in. The moan that escaped around the glove was downright dirty, but you kept your gaze on him.

It took a while, and patience, but he bottomed out inside you, his hips flushed against yours. And the filthy moan that shuddered out of him was incredible.

“Just gonna sit there Simon?” Johnny teased, and was met with a stern glare.

“Recalculating Johnny. Didn’t realise how fucking-Jesus-tight she’d be.” He panted, pulling out nearly completely, before thrusting back in. “And so-so fucking warm.” He gasped, shuddering slightly as he thrust into you once more.

“Taking him so well hen, isn’t she Simon?” Johnny cooed in your ear, his hand resting on your throat.

“So-so fucking good.” Simon uttered back, getting a firmer grip on your hips as he picked up a regular pace.

“Such a good little slut for us, fucking my best friend whilst I watch.”

Simon let out a breathtakingly beautiful moan at that word-his head falling back slightly. “She-she fucking squeezed me Johnny.”

“She likes being a slut, don’t you hen? A little slut that gets fucked.” Your boyfriend chuckled, and Simon picked the pace up.

“Is-is that it? You like being fucked?” Simon groaned, drawing a string of moans to escape your lips as he picked up the pace. “Yeah you do-you love having your boyfriend watch you fuck someone else.”

His fingers found your clit again-and your legs instinctively squeezed around his waist. “Atta-fucking-girl.” Simon growled, the one hand gripping your waist moving to rest just over your collarbones. “Like that? Like having someone tower over you whilst they fuck you into the mattress?” He leaned over you completely, his head resting in the crook of your neck to leave open mouthed kisses.

“Gonna cum again? Gonna cum on my cock-yeah, you are.” His voice was rough in your ear, and you felt that knot tightening in your lower abdomen again. “Squeezing me so fucking tight-God you’re so fucking perfect. Wanted to fuck you for ages.” He shuddered, his rhythm faltering slightly. “Every time I saw you-those fucking eyes. Knew I needed them looking up at me as i f-fucked you.”

“Gon-gonna-“ You whined against the glove, no doubt biting through it at this point. And that was it-that knot unraveled once more, leaving your legs trembling around his waist.

“Gonna cum lovie-gonna fuck-fucking-“ He gasped, quickly pulling out as hot cum splashed onto your lower stomach.

It wasn’t until you heard Johnny’s own shuddering gasp that you realised he’d gotten off on this. How you didn’t consider he maybe liked watching, it was unknown.

“Open.” Simon’s gruff voice sounded next to your ear, cleaning the cum off your stomach with his fingers. You obeyed-and his fingers set on the flat of your tongue. You sucked on his fingers-until he pulled them out, and took the glove off of your chest.

“How’d you feel now Simon?” Your boyfriend teased, earning a tired glare from Simon.

“Should be asking her that. She’s been so fucking good for me.” His eyes bore down into yours as he knelt between your trembling thighs.

“Let’s get you cleaned up hen.” And you were scooped off the bed, your boyfriend carrying you into the en suite bathroom.

—————————————————���——————-

It was gone ten by the time Simon went home, and you’d ended up curled on the sofa with Johnny. “How was that hen?” He murmured, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

You hummed, looking up at him. “Do you want to do it again sometime?” You asked your boyfriend, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“I think that can be arranged.”

————————————————————————-

[keeryhours]

for the very first time - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x Virgin! female! reader

Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

You decide to give your first time to your boyfriend, Steve. He promises to make it special.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, just mostly sweet sex with sweet Stevie

Word Count: 4,718

A/N:

Can’t get enough of Steve <3 Requests are open!

—

You stood in front of the mirror, feeling like you were looking back at a stranger. The woman staring back at you was not someone you recognized.

You were wearing a lingerie set you had bought on a whim a month ago, no plans on when you’d wear it but you knew the time would come. And that time was tonight, apparently.

The pale pink lace covers your breasts, pushing up your tits to make them look extra enticing, you figured. There was a small white bow in the center. The matching panties clung to your hips, making your ass look round and cute. There was a matching small white bow on the panties, too. You felt like a present waiting to be unwrapped.

At least, you hoped Steve would see you that way.

You and Steve had been dating for 4 months now, and you’d known he wanted to take the relationship to the next level for a while now, but you weren’t ready. You had never been with a guy before, and you had to admit you were scared. The farthest you two had ever gotten were some heavy makeout sessions, sometimes ending with his hands beneath your shirt before you stopped him. You had told Steve you just wanted to wait for the right guy and the right time, and it seemed like you had finally found both. You trusted Steve, you wanted to take this next step with him - if you trusted anyone to take your virginity, it would be him.

So at school on Thursday, you told Steve this Saturday was the day. His eyes had widened at the declaration, before a wolfish grin slid over his features, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

“Yeah? You’re sure?” he searched your face for any sign that you weren’t being honest, that you still weren’t ready, but he couldn’t hide the glimmer of excitement in his eyes. He would have waited forever for you, you meant so much to him, but at the same time he wanted you badly, something that has tortured him for months.

“I’m sure,” you had said, and it’s true, your mind had been made up. You were ready. As ready as you felt you’d ever be.

Steve had smiled at you, pushing some of your hair behind your shoulder as he leaned in and kissed your cheek before pressing his lips against yours.

“I’ll make it special for you, baby,” he had promised.

Now, as you examined yourself in the lingerie, butterflies in your stomach going wild, you wondered if you truly were ready. It was now or never, you figured.

You dressed in an oversized sweater and a pair of jeans over the lingerie. You were waiting for Steve to come pick you up. In perfect timing, his parents were out of town for the weekend, giving you two all the time and space you needed. You had told your parents you were sleeping over at your best friend’s house. The thought of it thrilled you, you had never done anything like this before, lying to your parents so you can stay at your boyfriend’s house and have sex with him. You were always a good girl, so your parents trusted you wholeheartedly, which made you feel only a little guilty about what you were doing.

You noticed the time - 8pm, when Steve was supposed to be here - and headed down the stairs, overnight bag in hand. You said goodbye to your parents, and then you were outside, walking to the end of the block where Steve waited in his car.

You felt giddy as you climbed into the passenger seat next to him. It was cold outside but nice and toasty in Steve’s BMW. He wore a red sweater and jeans, his perfect hair tousled messily, and he gave you a smile as you slid into the car.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted you with a kiss. You smiled against his lips, buzzing with anticipation for the night.

“You look handsome,” you complimented him, earning a chuckle from the boy as he put the car in drive and began heading back to his own house.

“Thank you, baby,” he said, reaching over to place his big hand on your thigh, squeezing lightly. It sent shivers through your body, straight to your core.

You were too nervous for conversation the whole way to Steve’s house. The radio was on, so you didn’t have to ride in awkward silence at least. Steve could tell you were nervous, and he kept shooting you reassuring smiles, rubbing your thigh.

When you got to Steve’s, the nerves were worse. It was finally time, and you were freaking out. Steve took your hand, leading you up the stairs and to his bedroom.

It was clean, tidy, looked like a guy’s bedroom. Nothing particularly special. You looked around, noticing the box of condoms sitting ready on the bedside table, which made you blush.

Steve closed the bedroom door softly, then walked over to you, placing his hands on your hips.

“You’re sure you want to do this tonight?” he asked, his voice low. You could tell he desperately wanted you to say yes, but he would have stopped if you asked him to, you knew perfectly well.

“Yes,” you said. “I want this. With you.”

Steve smiled at you gently. He placed his hands on either side of your face, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. “I love you.”

Before you could answer he was pressing your lips together, kissing you softly at first. This was something you were used to, something familiar, and you felt your anxiety slipping away as his lips worked against yours.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, tangling with yours as he kissed you deeper. His thumb caressed your cheek, fingers on his other hand tangling in your hair. You gripped onto his biceps, feeling the strong muscles beneath his shirt.

He pulled away, breathing a little heavier now as his eyes searched yours. He nudged you towards the bed and you took the hint, kicking off your shoes before you climbed onto it.

“Do you want some music?” he asked, walking to his stereo and looking through his collection casually.

“Uh, sure,” you said. That might be nice.

“I have the perfect mix,” Steve said, smiling to himself as he put a cassette into the stereo and pressed play. “Made it for you, actually.”

You blushed as Steve turned around, music now playing softly over the speakers. He sauntered over to the bed, causing the anticipation to build in your stomach.

When he reached the bed, he slowly crawled onto it, over you. He laid next to you on the bed, leaning over you with one hand on your waist as your lips met once again.

He kissed you for a long time, and you didn’t mind one bit. You and Steve did a lot of making out, and this was no different. You wondered if he was easing you into it on purpose, if he could tell you were nervous so he was taking his time.

Steve’s hand slowly started trailing up your sweater, feeling your smooth skin beneath his fingertips. It sent goosebumps across your body as you shuddered at his touch. He kept sliding his hand up, feeling the smooth skin of your back before moving to the front, feeling up your stomach until he gently grasped your breast. He massaged it slowly, which actually felt really nice.

You moaned into his mouth, earning one back from him, and you were caught by surprise when he pushed his clothed hips against your thigh and you could feel the bulge through his jeans. Your heart beat faster at the feeling, reminding you what you were going to be doing tonight.

“Can I take this off?” Steve asked, breathless against your wet, kiss-swollen lips.

You nodded, and he lifted the sweater up and over your head, tossing it to his floor. His eyes widened as he took in your bra, half of the surprise you had for him.

“Wow,” he said, eyes never leaving your breasts. He caressed the material of your bra, admiring the beautiful lace covering your perfect tits from his view. He loved it and hated it at the same time.

He leaned forward, pressing kisses to the tops of your breasts peeking from the bra, sucking on the soft skin, leaving love bites all over your chest. You moaned again, fingers tangling in his long hair, which made him groan against your skin.

“Do you always wear underwear this sexy?” he asked, pulling back to devour you with his eyes again. He slipped a finger between the strap of your bra, flicking it against your skin playfully.

“No,” you answered, blushing deeply. “I bought it for you.”

Steve’s face lit up at that revelation, another soft groan falling from his lips. He rubbed his palm all over your exposed body, over your sides.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled, then he was placing his hand on the back of your head again and kissing you deeply.

He tasted so familiar, so comforting, his breath minty and fresh like he’d eaten some mints in the car before he picked you up. The thought of Steve being even a little bit as nervous as you were for this made your heart flutter in your chest. You knew he had been with other girls before, and he was plenty experienced, but this would be your first time together and Steve was taking that seriously.

You decided to be bold, trailing your fingers up his abdomen beneath his sweater. You feel the firm muscles of his stomach, trailing higher until you’re pressing against his strong chest, fingers trailing through his chest hair. You always felt that made him seem so manly. Steve hummed against your lips at the feeling of your hands on his chest.

You tugged on his sweater, and he took the hint, leaning back away from you to sit on his knees and pull it over his head. You drank in the sight of your shirtless boyfriend, his chest heaving lightly.

Steve rubbed your leg, from your calf up to your thigh, rubbing over your ass before slapping it playfully. It made you gasp, and he gave you a mischievous smile.

He moved until he was settled on his knees between your legs, rubbing your hips. He reached forward, giving your tits some more attention before he trailed his hands down your stomach, landing at the buttons of your jeans. His eyes flicked up to yours, searching for permission. You gave him a small nod, which was all he needed before his long fingers were deftly undoing your jeans.

He pulled them down your legs and tossed them behind him, revealing your matching panties. A smirk grew on his lips at the sight and his hands went straight to them, feeling the lace over your hips.

“Cute,” he said, staring down at you appreciatively. He reached forward and trailed a fingertip over your slit over the panties, making you gasp and jerk away from him on accident. He had never touched you there before.

His eyes shot up to your face immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stumbled out, “just surprised me.”

He laughed a little, his hand rubbing your hip again. “Just relax, baby. You don’t need to be nervous. I’m gonna make you feel good.”

You felt heat in your belly at his words, a throbbing in your core. Despite your nerves, you had to admit to yourself that you were excited for what was to come. You knew Steve wouldn’t do anything you didn’t like.

You only jump a little when you feel his fingers over your core again, gently rubbing against your folds, feeling how damp your underwear already was. The thought embarrassed you, but he didn’t seem to mind.

His fingers traveled up until they were pressed against your clit through your underwear. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, tingles traveling through your whole body. He rubbed circles against it, and you began to writhe beneath him as the pleasure got more and more intense.

When he stopped, you whined, hips bucking up towards him as if chasing the feeling. Steve chuckled, leaning forward so his lips were right against your ear.

“I’m gonna take these pretty things off you now, baby. Okay?”

Your body tensed. “Okay,” you said, but you found yourself losing your train of thought as Steve kissed across your chest. His hands trailed up your back until they reached your bra strap, quickly and easily undoing the hooks and removing it from your body.

He immediately pulled back to take in your naked chest for the first time. He moaned at the sight, hands going to grasp your tits, pinching at your rapidly hardening nipples. You let out tiny moans and whimpers at the feeling, which nearly made his eyes roll back in his head.

“Fuck…” Steve breathed. He moved forward and wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, circling his tongue around the bud and sucking lightly. You whined, back arching and pushing your tits in his face. He moaned around you, fingers working the nipple his mouth wasn’t currently on.

He switched sides, paying equal attention to your other nipple. He grazed his teeth over it lightly, which made you draw in a shuddering gasp.

Steve popped off of your tits with an audible noise, moving back between your legs and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. He pulled them down your legs slowly, fingers feeling your smooth skin as he went, fabric discarded to the floor when he was done.

His hands landed on your knees and he slowly pushed them apart farther, revealing all of you to him. He licked his lips as he took in the sight of your bare pussy, his jeans uncomfortably tight.

“God, you’re just as beautiful as I imagined,” he said. His words made you feel good, but the attention he was paying to parts of you no one had ever seen before made your body flush with embarrassment.

Steve ducked between your legs, lips placing kisses on the insides of your thighs. He laid between your legs, big hands wrapped around your thighs as he kissed lower and lower.

You looked down at him. “Steve, what are you-“

You were immediately cut off by the feeling of Steve’s tongue dragging along your pussy, and you threw your head back, a strangled cry coming from your lips.

You swore you felt Steve smirk against you, but you couldn’t think too much about it because he had begun to devour you like he was starving. He lapped at your folds, tasting your wetness. His tongue circled your clit before he closed his lips around it, sucking gently.

You were wide eyed, body writhing under him until he was forced to grab onto your hips, holding you still. You had never felt pleasure like this before in your life, this was more than you ever could have even imagined. On instinct your hand shoots down and grabs a handful of Steve’s hair. He groaned when you pulled on it, and you pushed his face harder against your needy pussy, which Steve welcomed.

The noises he made as he ate you out were obscene enough to make you blush. He was sloppy with it, you worried that you were going to ruin his sheets. Steve didn’t seem to care, moving down to press his tongue into your hole, nose nudging against your clit. You cried out, pulling on his hair harder.

Steve pulled away to catch his breath. “God, you taste so sweet.” Then he was buried in your cunt again, that expert tongue driving you wild. You felt his fingertip pressing at your entrance, and your body tensed. You tried to focus on the feeling of Steve’s tongue as he slowly pressed it into you, the stretch burning.

He carefully thrusts the one finger in and out of your tight heat, and over time it becomes less painful and you start to enjoy the stretch, moaning with every movement. Steve can tell you’re feeling good, and he takes the opportunity to push in a second finger. The stretch is more intense this time but he works you through it. He pushed his fingers all the way in, curling them up and pressing against a spot that makes your eyes go wide. Once he realizes he found it, he presses into that spot with every thrust, his mouth never letting up.

There’s a tension building deep in your stomach, tightening rapidly. It’s more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. You hold onto Steve’s hair with one hand and a fistful of the sheets in the other, and that coil snaps, pushing you over the edge violently.

You’re glad Steve’s house is empty all weekend, because you scream out, body arching and stars exploding in your vision. You grind your pussy against Steve’s mouth, desperate for him to keep going as you come undone on his tongue and fingers. “Oh, my god- Steve! Oh, Steve, fuck, holy shit-“

Steve groaned loudly, rutting his hips into the mattress as he worked you through your orgasm, rock hard and desperate for some friction on his aching cock. When you came down, he pulled back, looking up at you from between your legs.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw him, looking up at you with your slick covering his mouth, chin and nose. His pupils were blown wide, his eyes wide and full of lust.

Steve sat back up on his knees and began undoing his jeans. You watched intently as he pushed them down his hips along with his boxers, exposing his dick, huge, hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip.

Your mouth watered at the sight of it. You wondered how the hell your boyfriend had been hiding all that in his jeans this whole time.

Steve leaned back over your body, and you could feel his length pressing against you as he moved. It startled you a little. You couldn’t wrap your mind around all of him being inside you, wondered how it would fit. If it would fit.

He kissed you again, and you tasted yourself on his lips and tongue. It was strange, you thought, different. Suddenly, you had an idea you couldn’t shake from your head.

“Can I taste you?” you asked him shyly as he pulled back a little, your noses pressed together.

Steve’s eyes widened. “R-really? Are you sure?”

You nodded, smiling at him nervously.

He kissed you shortly yet passionately one more time before moving to lay next to you. He couldn’t hide his eagerness as he got settled on the mattress. You giggled a little as you moved on top of him, grabbing the base of his cock in your hand.

The sensation caused him to jerk his hips up with a groan, so desperate for more already. You were surprised how sensitive he was, but it excited you, made you want to do more. You tentatively began to stroke him from base to tip, squeezing your hand around him. His eyes fluttered shut, groans slipping from his kissable lips.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his tip in a kiss. You licked the head experimentally, tasting the pre cum smeared at his slit. Steve lets out a whine, cock twitching in your hand.

You wrapped your lips around his tip, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked it. He started pushing his hips up again and you understood what he wanted (needed), lowering your head down his shaft. You felt Steve’s hand at the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

He was gentle as he pushed and pulled on your hair, guiding your head up and down on him. You massaged the underside of his length with your tongue, making him shudder. He was so vocal, so responsive, it surprised you but you found it so hot.

Steve started thrusting into your mouth, eyes half lidded but not daring to look away for even a second. You looked up at him, moaning around his dick as you made eye contact. The look on his face was one of pure pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open, panting.

You relaxed your throat and took him deeper, all the way until your nose was pressed against the dark curls at his base. He let out a strangled groan, and you felt his thigh muscles tightening and trembling beneath your hands.

Suddenly he’s yanking you off of him by your hair. You come up, surprised. “Did I do something wrong…?”

“No, god no baby, I-“ he stopped, panting like he was trying to catch his breath. “I would have busted down your throat if you kept going for another second.”

You blushed, laughing a little. You crawled up his body and kissed him again until he was pushing you down on the bed, climbing over you again. He kissed you, but quickly moved down to your neck, biting and sucking and leaving visible love bites on your skin. Your mind was far too hazy to think about it, so you just enjoyed the feeling of his mouth instead.

He kissed down your body, taking the time to wrap his mouth around each of your nipples again for only a second - what can he say, he loved your tits. Farther down until he was settled between your legs again, pushing your thighs apart, taking in the view of your naked body under him after all this time.

He reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the box of condoms. Your heartbeat sped up rapidly as he took one of the foil packages out of the box. He ripped it open with his teeth, sliding it over his dick like he’d done this plenty of times before.

Your body was buzzing with anticipation as he lined his fat tip up at your entrance. You gasped, involuntarily tensing your entire body.

“You’ve got to relax for me,” Steve said, rubbing your thigh soothingly with his free hand, “or I’m not gonna be able to get in, baby.”

You nodded, taking a deep, shaky breath. You made an effort to relax your body. You felt him pressing insistently at your entrance, and you wanted to let him in.

“You ready?” Steve asked you, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. It warmed your heart that he cared so much about your comfort that he was willing to stop even though you could see how badly he needed you.

“I’m ready,” you told him, your voice laced with desire.

Steve smiled softly at you before he looked down and finally, finally began pressing into you, your tight, tight pussy wrapping around him and squeezing him like a vice. You gripped onto the sheets in your fists, body trembling as he stretched you out, and it hurt deliciously. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how something could be painful while you also never wanted it to stop.

Steve’s eyes clenched shut as he pushed in, a hiss of pleasure coming from between his teeth. He bottomed out and dug his fingers so hard into your hips it would surely leave bruises as he tried to control himself.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You are so fucking tight.”

You breathed through it, trying to relax your body completely, knowing the pain would be better if you could just relax. Steve moved a hand to your clit again, rubbing against it slowly at first.

His plan worked and it distracted you from the stretch, the intense feelings overtaking your body turning into pleasure. When you look like you’re enjoying yourself again, Steve pulls out until only the tip remains inside, and slowly pushes back in.

You moan as Steve sets a slow, gentle pace. You can feel every inch, every vein, every ridge of his cock as it slowly drives in and out of your pussy. He leaned over and kissed you as he slowly fucked you, his fingers continuing to work your clit.

You wrapped your arms around him, hands grasping onto his strong back. You loved the way he felt moving against you, his breath hot against your neck as he buried his face there. You wrapped your legs around his waist and started moving your hips up to meet his, making him groan.

Steve’s mixtape was still playing softly in the background as he made love to you, the sounds of the bed creaking and both of your pants and moans intermixing with the music. He peppered loving kisses against your neck, and you could feel his heartbeat against your chest.

“Can I move a little faster?” he asked breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yes, please, harder.”

Steve moaned again as he picked up his pace. You could hear the sound of your skin meeting every time he thrusted his hips into you, the sound of how wet you were around him, and it made you feel ashamed. But Steve was loving every second of it.

“God…you…you’re so perfect, so hot,” he moaned, his own mind going hazy as he feels his release building throughout his body.

“You’re so big,” you whined, arms wrapped around him and holding him tightly. “So deep. I’m gonna cum again, Steve.”

Steve’s hips sped up at your words, his fingers circling your clit even faster. “Yeah, baby. Cum on my cock for me, I got you.”

Your brows furrowed and you arched your back, your tits pressing against Steve’s chest. He buried his face in them, his groans muffled. His cock hit that perfect spot he was pounding with his fingers earlier, but this is even more intense, even better. You tugged on his hair as your body began to tremble, your eyes clamped shut and your moans got louder and more desperate.

“Steve…Steve…oh my god oh my god-“

Your second orgasm hit you like a train, and you came hard, your pussy throbbing around his cock as he pulled your intense orgasm from your tired body. You heard Steve’s muffled whine, his grip around your body getting even tighter. His thrusts pick up in speed and intensity until they’re ruthless, messy, frantic and he’s chasing his own release.

“I’m gonna cum,” Steve groaned, one hand moving up to intertwine with yours. He looked up into your face as he neared the edge, and you knew it had hit him when his mouth dropped open, his hips shoving back into you hard one last time as he let out a strangled groan, thrusting shallowly into you a couple more times as he rode out the last of his orgasm.

He stilled inside you, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Both of your bodies still trembling. Steve peppered about a million kisses across your face, making you giggle, before he pulled out, disposing of the condom in the trash can and collapsing on the bed next to you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly into his chest.

“I love you,” he said, his words sounding like they were genuinely pulled straight from his heart.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, a big grin on your face that he quickly returned. He pecked you on the lips sweetly. You stared into your boyfriend’s warm brown eyes.

“That was incredible,” he said, laughing breathlessly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He added the second part more seriously, brushing your messy hair out of your face.

“It was amazing,” you agreed, fingers drawing designs on his bare chest. “I wanna do it again.”

Steve laughed. “We will, believe me.”

He pulled you as close as you could get, your head laying on his slightly sweaty chest. The music still played in the background, relaxing you. Steve pulled the blankets over you both, and you were pretty sure you’d never been more cozy in your life.

There, in Steve’s arms, you felt safe. You felt loved. Slowly, you both drifted off, sleeping peacefully tangled up in one another.

[webanglikethat]

to every single queer person out there—trans, gay, bi, pan, ace, nonbinary, however you identify—let me just say this: I am so, so fucking sorry. SO, SO, SO FUCKING SORRY. I am furious. I’m pissed off beyond words. english seems like a forgotten skill as I'm typing this. I am so sorry.

we never deserved this. we never fucking deserved this.

I am sorry that you’ve been betrayed like this, that we’ve all been betrayed like this. I’m sorry that SO MANY of our damn votes weren’t counted, like we don’t even matter. like we’re just numbers on a page that they can toss out without a thought. like we can just be erased, as if we do not exist, like we’re puzzle pieces that don’t fit into their perfect picture, so they just throw us out, discarded, like we were never there in the first place. I’m sorry she just conceded, just gave up. left us hanging. just handed us over like we’re some afterthought, like we’re collateral damage in this disgusting twisted fucking game. as if our lives, our rights, everything we fought for, meant nothing. she just rolled over and let us get steamrolled, like we’re just noise, just numbers on a page, just nothing worth fighting for. do they even care that real people, people who trusted her, who put their hopes in her, are being crushed by this? and not only in the US. we ALL believed in her. and ... she ... just ... she was gone. just like that. and we’re the ones who have to pay the price. we’re the ones left with our futures on the line, wondering what rights we’ll have tomorrow, if we’ll even be safe tomorrow. and she just… gave it all up. handed us over to people who are hell-bent on erasing us, who’ve been clear from day one about what they think of us, what they want to take away. how do we even make sense of that? how do we believe in ANYONE? how can you abandon us in the lion's den and yet demand compassion and trust? to trust in the very hands that have left us to bleed, to burn, to fight alone?

we deserve better. we deserved someone who would stand with us when it mattered, who wouldn’t just throw in the towel and walk away when things got tough. we’re not just collateral. we’re not disposable. we’re human beings with lives, with love, with the right to exist without fear. we aren't statistics, diagrams, names forgotten on a wall. we are queer, and we are real. and she ... just left us to face down a nightmare she knows damn well is coming. so how dare they tell us to “keep faith” when they’ve shown us that our lives were never worth the fight to them. we needed someone who would dig in and say, “no, you can’t have them. not now, not ever.” and instead? we were left out in the cold to fend for ourselves. like always. like fucking always. and this isn’t just some political setback for us. this is our lives, our right to exist. we’ve fought and bled and stood through hell just to claim an inch of ground to live openly, to love who we love, and to be who we are. we deserved so much more than empty promises. and we won’t forget this.

right now, it feels like every warning, every fear we’ve had has come to life in the worst way. and let’s be real—what’s next is terrifying. I will not sugarcoat it. rights are going to be stripped away, our existence denied, our safety threatened. trump hasn’t hidden it; he’s promised it. this was supposed to be our home too. but they’re pushing us out, forcing us to hide. so please, if you need to, go back into the closet. change states if that’s what it takes. hell, think about leaving the country if you can, because it’s becoming clear that staying might mean risking everything. you do not owe anyone anything, just think of yourself first. you are your own priority.

and god .. Love. Love—something so pure, something so simple—has been twisted into a reason for others to hate us, to fear us, to hurt us. we were never supposed to be the ones people saw as a “threat.” that label should belong to hatred, to racism, to homophobia, to everything that has poisoned this world. but instead, somehow we are the ones they call dangerous. we are the ones they want to erase. and it’s maddening. what kind of world are we living in, where the fight to just exist is an endless battle? was it not love that led Eve to take that fateful bite, trusting in the bond she shared with Adam? and if love is the foundation upon which humanity was built, how can we be faulted for following its lead? of all the things we could hate, and we chose love.

if this moment feels like it’s too much, if it feels like everything you’ve fought for, every piece of yourself you’ve worked to own, every right, every dream, every bit of safety is collapsing around you -- I get it. I feel it in my bones. it feels like drowning, like being swallowed whole by a storm that never ends. the shore seems so far away. but listen to me: don’t you fucking dare let them break you. don’t let them get that satisfaction. don’t give them that power. we are not here to let monsters erase us. we’re here to outlast every single one of them. we’re here to survive and thrive. we are queer, we are real, we exist, we will continue to exist.

their power, their hatred, their cruelty—it won’t last forever. I know it's difficult to see the light at the end of this tunnel. but they are the ones who don’t belong in a world built on compassion, on love, on freedom. You are the real thing. You are here. You deserve to be here, and you deserve to feel safe, loved, and free.

if you’re feeling like there’s no point anymore, if this all feels like it’s too damn much to take, please just hang on. this fight is brutal, and sometimes it feels like it never ends. but I’m begging you—don’t give up. don’t let them have that final victory. don’t let them silence your voice, your light, your life. scream, cry, punch walls, call someone, reach out, hold on to whatever will keep you here another day, another hour. do whatever you have to do to survive this moment. because you’re needed. we need you. the world needs you.

you might not see it now, but you are a part of something big, something powerful, something they wish they could destroy but never will. you’re part of a legacy of resilience, of love, of defiance against hatred. every queer person, every person who has ever had to stand up against a world that told them they shouldn’t exist, that they should be crucified, erased, beaten up, has carried that legacy forward, passed it down so we could be here. so you could be here. and they did not survive all they did, did not fight, did not sacrifice so much just for us to lose hope. we’re still here because others fought and held on. now, it’s our turn. we owe it to them, to ourselves, to hold on with everything we have, to fight with everything in us.

and one day, I promise you, I truly pinkie promise you, that you’re going to wake up in a world that has moved beyond these hateful voices. one day, you will wake up in a world that sees you, that values you, where you don’t have to fight just to exist. you deserve to live in it, to walk in the sunlight without fear, without shame. they don’t get to take that from you. they don’t get to erase you. they don’t get to win.

this moment is hard. it’s beyond hard. but you, every single one of you, are worth it. you are not alone in this fight. you are surrounded by countless others who feel this too, who know this pain, who are holding on right alongside you.

so please, hold on. you belong, and nothing they do can change that. they cannot snuff out your light. they cannot erase your legacy. they cannot undo the love you were born to spread.

stay. fight like hell. be louder, be prouder, be everything they tell you not to be. because you are worth every ounce of this battle. and we will see the day they’re gone. we will make it through.

we too shall rise from the ashes.

to my queer family, my phoenix.

[kiame-sama]

is HAE azul venomous? I’m pretty sure you mentioned him being a coconut octopus and they produce a paralyzing venom. Would that add him to the list of major potential threats like leona? With him being venomous would people be wary to leave him and the human alone together or is dulled down in a way it could perhaps be used as a numbing agent

Azul is venomous and his venom is incredibly potent. It can be used in small doses to numb, but in large doses it can paralyze and cause the mass shutdown of internal functions through paralysis of the organs. When out of the water, it is easy to forget Azul is actually dangerous. Despite having this inherent danger to him, he is not considered a threat to the Human.

Azul is a Cecaelia- an Octomer- many merfolk were enamored with Humans; be it the sailors or the Humans on the beach. Humans are considered peak beauty by Merfolk standards and Azul sees them no differently. He is enamored with their legs, their feet, their hands, their soft body, their endearing face, everything about them. He loved the idea of Humans and the concept of Humans so much he wrote Cecaelia x Human fics on Trottr prior to ever meeting one.

The only thing the Human is in danger of around Azul is that he may actually be generous and kind to them. Sure, his reward is their company and increasing affections, but that is far shallower a price than anyone has ever had to pay for something from Azul. When he promises something, he intends to deliver. This means that the exchange of goods between Azul and the Human is pricier on Azul's side.

The staff members and other Housewardens do not trust that Azul really only wants company from the Human, so they are less trusting of that. Crowley has already decided to implement a school wide rule against any deal-making/ hypnotizing/ bullying/ harming/ otherwise manipulating the Human, so Azul technically can't actually make a soul-binding deal with the Human without repercussions. Still, he is considered mostly harmless despite this and would be considered a good guard for the Human.

[yasmindifference]

12!

Tim is only halfway through his explanation of the case he's been working when Bruce sighs and says, "I'll bring Hood in."

He's so astonished by this idiocy that it genuinely takes him a few seconds to recover; he has to run to catch up. Then, since he's running anyway, he uses his momentum to slide into place a few steps ahead, blocking Batman's path.

In the Cave, that's more symbolic than anything--there's plenty of room to go around him--and B respects that much, at least. He stops in his tracks.

"No, you won't," Tim says very clearly.

Batman frowns. "Red Robin."

"Batman," he returns, and Batman's frown deepens.

He's wearing the cowl now, having pulled it on as he walked--steeling himself for what he's decided he has to do. Shutting Bruce away so his paternal affection doesn't slow him down.

As usual, he's being a complete moron. World's Greatest Detective, Tim's ass.

"Red Robin," Batman says again, "your attachment to Red Hood--"

"--has nothing to do with this," Tim interrupts. "Jason didn't do it."

His pointed use of Jason's actual name goes unacknowledged; Batman sets his shoulders to loom and doubles down.

"The victim profile is clearly in line with Hood's usual targets," he says. "The victim's own victims were children, specifically children from Crime Alley, and his crimes against them were exactly the kind that Hood punishes the most severely. You can't deny that."

He's using the Batman growl and still looming over Tim...why, Tim's not exactly sure. It's not like he ever backed down from this kind of display even when he was a literal child facing down a Batman half-mad with grief. As an adult and a vigilante in his own right, who's been facing down the city's, world's, and occasionally galaxy's worst for nearly a decade...Batman is barely going to make him blink.

So he meets the eerie white lenses of the cowl straight on when he says, "No, I can't deny any of that. But Jason still didn't do it."

"You're being unrealistic," Batman says sharply. "Basing your conclusion on emotion instead of fact."

"No, that would be you," Tim corrects, just as sharp. "You're blinded by your issues with Jason's way of doing things. If you were actually thinking straight--"

"Hood makes a habit of targeting rapists, pedophiles, and anyone who breaks his so-called 'rules' in the territory he claims as his." Batman looms harder. "All three apply to the victim. What evidence do you have to support his innocence?"

"The fact that this isn't how Jason works."

Batman's face blanks out, scowl wiped away as he forcefully suppresses his reaction to Tim's words.

"Hood has never agreed with the no-kill rule," he says, "and despite our truce, he never committed to not using lethal force. It was only a matter of time before he crossed the line again, and this is precisely how he likes to 'punish' those he deems guilty."

Tim has to take a second to deliberately calm himself before he can trust his voice. His hands ache for how tightly he's fisted them.

"No," he says, once he's sure his voice won't shake with the anger trembling in his fists. "No, it isn't."

"Tim--"

"It's true that Jason isn't opposed to lethal force," he says over Batman. "It's also true that he particularly targets people who break his rules and/or prey on children. But not like this!"

If he were anyone but Batman, Tim would say Bruce falters.

"Explain."

Tim doesn't hesitate.

"Yes, Jason is willing to kill," he says. "Yes, he'll even make it hurt if the crime is bad enough. But his goal isn't to punish anyone--it's to protect people."

Batman's flat expression--what little Tim can see of it beyond the cowl, at least--says he doesn't appreciate the difference.

Tim tries again. "Jason doesn't kill because he enjoys it, he kills because he thinks it's the only way to stop the worst of the worst. That's why he goes after the people the system can't or won't contain."

Still, Batman is unmoved. Tim gets to the point.

"Our victim was tortured over the course of several hours," he says again. It was one of the first lines in his little presentation on the case, and should have immediately disqualified Jason as a potential perpetrator. "I estimate at least twelve hours passed between the infliction of the first wound and his death, which was the result of a combination of shock and blood loss."

"You said that already," Batman says, unamused.

"Yes, and you should've known that it ruled out Jason!" Tim snaps. "If Jason had done this, he might have, have kneecapped the guy first, or shot him in the gut, or something, because yes, he'd have wanted to make him hurt. But the death still would have been measured in minutes, because at the end of the day, Jason's main priority is to end suffering, not cause it."

For a long, tense moment, Batman stares at him. Tim's trembling with emotion--not just anger that Batman is doubting him, but fear at what Batman might do to Jason if Tim can't stop him.

For all of Bruce's talk about Jason crossing lines...when it comes to Jason, Bruce tends to cross plenty himself.

Finally, Batman (and he is still so very Batman) says, "I wish I could believe that, but I can't."

"Then believe in me," Tim says, seizing the opening at once. "Just give me a day or two, okay? I'll find the real killer and prove that Jason didn't do this."

After either a few seconds or a lifetime, Batman finally--finally--backs down.

"You have a week," he says, and turns away. "And if you're wrong..."

Tim isn't about to humor that ominous trailing off. "I'm not. You'll see."

"I hope so," Bruce says quietly.

Prompt #12 was one character standing up for the other! Good choice! ♡♡

[rocknrollwhcre]

…And Leave You With Nothing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F! Reader (18+)

Content Warning: Emotional distress, toxic relationship dynamics, verbal conflict, mild physical aggression, manipulation, jealousy, intense arguments, physical violence, fighting, blood/injury, aggression, and cringe fest 😜.

Summary: Eddie is willing to do anything to talk with you.

A/N: divider by @saradika-graphics !!!

Tags 🏷️ : @somethingvicked @prideandaesthetic

The air felt especially fresh tonight, crisp enough to make you take a deep breath and tug your coat just a little closer. Robin’s dad dropped you off at the curb, giving you a quick nod before driving off into the night. You’d been promising yourself to offer him gas money soon. Between him and Steve shuttling you to and from work, it was starting to feel like a debt you needed to pay—not that you ever asked for help. You sigh, reaching into your bag for your keys, when a familiar sound—a soft throat clear—makes you freeze.

It’s him.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice is low, almost tentative. He rises from the shadowed bench outside your house, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets as he takes a few cautious steps toward you.

You don’t even think before you turn on your heel, making a swift move to walk the other way, but his hand catches your wrist, just firm enough to hold you still. “What are you gonna do, go for a midnight stroll?” he scoffs. “You realize how dangerous and stupid that is, right?”

You wrench your arm back, shooting him a glare that could cut glass. “You know what’s really stupid, Eddie? Trusting someone who swore up and down that I had nothing to worry about.” Your voice shakes, and you hate that it does.

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. “Look, it’s… it’s not what you think. Can we please just talk?”

“I think we’re done talking,” you say sharply, brushing past him with a shoulder-check that would knock anyone else off balance.

“Babe, come on!” He calls after you, his voice laced with desperation, but it only spurs you to keep moving.

Finally, your fingers close around your keys, and you unlock the door, stepping just inside. Turning one last time, you lock eyes with him, and for a moment, he looks like he’s ready to say something—something that might change everything. But you won’t give him that chance.

“I expect my things back tomorrow,” you say, voice cold and final. “I’ll have yours ready too.”

And then you close the door, shutting him and his excuses out into the night.

—

“No way!” Steve exclaims, barely pausing to swallow a mouthful of pizza, his eyes wide with shock.

“I wish I was joking!” You take a sip of your soda, feeling the exhaustion of recounting it all.

You and Steve are on break, sitting in the food court, the noise of other diners humming around you. You’ve just filled him in on what happened last night. After you left Eddie standing outside, you expected him to go home. Instead, he’d stayed on your porch all night, waiting. This morning, he’d been at your door again, relentless in his attempts to talk to you, practically holding you hostage in your own house. Eventually, your mother, exasperated and protective, had called Chief Hopper, who came over to convince Eddie to leave before he wound up getting charged with trespassing.

“So, you’re like...really done with him?” Steve’s voice is cautious, as though testing the waters.

You let out a heavy sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “I have to be. He paraded Roxanne around just to get under my skin, and then he…” Your voice trails off, a lump forming in your throat. Steve’s hand reaches out, his warm palm resting on yours in a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You manage a small smile, even as a single tear slips down your cheek.

“Let’s get back,” you say softly, brushing the tear away. “Robin’s probably itching to take her break.”

The two of you toss your trash and make your way back to Scoops. As you approach, raised voices from inside catch your attention. You exchange a glance with Steve, and without a word, you both quicken your pace, pushing through the door.

Inside, Robin stands, arms crossed and eyes blazing, trying to block Eddie from heading to the back. “Eddie, I’m warning you,” she says firmly, “leave now, or I’m calling security.”

Eddie only laughs, defiant and almost unhinged. “Hopper couldn’t even keep me away,” he taunts, his gaze flicking over Robin’s shoulder. “You really think some mall security is gonna stop me? I know she’s here, Buckley—just let me talk to her. Please.”

“You’re not talking to anyone. You’re done here.” The sudden edge in Steve’s voice makes everyone turn. You’re surprised at the shift in his tone; it’s protective, firm, and completely unlike his usual laid-back demeanor. Slowly, he steps toward Eddie, eyes locked on him.

Eddie narrows his gaze, jaw tight. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice doesn’t waver, his stare unbreaking.

Eddie lets out a low chuckle, running his tongue along the front of his teeth with a smirk. “I was wondering when you’d finally grow a pair, Harrington.”

Robin scrunches her face in disgust. “Ugh, can we not do this? This isn’t the school playground.” But her words are lost on them as they continue their stare-down, neither one backing down.

“You should leave, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice low, almost daring him to stay.

Eddie tilts his head, accepting the challenge. “And if I don’t?”

Before things can escalate further, you step forward, placing a gentle hand on Steve’s arm. “Steve, please don’t,” you murmur, trying to defuse the tension. “Come on, just leave it alone.”

Steve’s expression softens the moment he feels your hand, glancing back at you with concern. But the sight only fuels Eddie’s frustration. His eyes darken as an idea takes root, and he sneers.

“Oh, I get it now,” Eddie says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve always had a thing for my girl, haven’t you, Harrington? Now that I’m out of the picture, you’re swooping in, playing the knight in shining armor. Trying to compensate for the fact that Nancy dumped you? What was it, huh?” His words turn venomous. “She saw what you were really packing and decided it wasn’t enough, so she ran to Jonathan—”

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to finish. With a flash of movement, Steve’s fist connects with Eddie’s face, the punch landing with a force that sends them both crashing to the floor. In seconds, they’re locked in a furious grapple, fists swinging as they roll across the tile. You and Robin rush in, frantically trying to pull them apart, but their anger has them locked together, fists and insults flying.

It takes a few bystanders stepping in to finally separate them. Two hold Steve back while Eddie sits slumped on the floor, blood trickling from his nose, staining his shirt.

You quickly take Eddie’s arm, helping him up. “Come on,” you say quietly, guiding him toward the bathroom to clean him up.

—

“Sit,” you say firmly, your voice leaving no room for argument.

“But—” Eddie starts, wincing slightly.

“Now!” You cut him off, your gaze sharp.

Reluctantly, Eddie sinks down onto the closed toilet lid, his eyes never leaving you as you grab a handful of rough brown paper towels and wet them under the faucet. Turning back, you tilt his chin up with a gentler touch than he probably deserves, dabbing the tissue against his bleeding nose. Eddie swallows, his hands hovering near your thighs, close but not quite touching—he doesn’t dare. One wrong move, and he knows he’ll lose whatever sliver of goodwill he might still have.

You glare down at him, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Stupid. That was so stupid. What the hell were you thinking?”

His eyes soften, the bravado slipping for just a moment. “I was trying to get your attention,” he murmurs, looking up at you almost pleadingly.

You let out a harsh scoff, ripping the tissue from his nose and tossing it into the trash. “If you wanted my attention, maybe you should’ve just made out with your new girlfriend in front of me again. That seemed to work pretty well.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, and he stands up abruptly, fists clenched. “I didn’t kiss her!” he protests, the words laced with frustration.

You step back, crossing your arms, disbelief etched into your face. “I know what a kiss looks like, Eddie. I’m not stupid! If you wanted to be with her so badly, you could’ve at least had the decency to break up with me instead of stringing me along for three years!”

You turn, hand reaching for the door, ready to storm out. But before you can leave, Eddie steps forward, pressing his hand against the door to hold it shut, blocking your exit.

“God, do you even hear yourself right now?” he snaps, his voice raw. “If I didn’t want to be with you, don’t you think I would’ve walked away long before now?”

You cross your arms tighter, your eyes narrowing. “Then why were you so quick to go running back to Roxy, huh? Why were you so eager to spend all that time with her?”

“Because—”

“Because nothing, Eddie!” you cut him off, voice thick with hurt. “You wanted her all along, didn’t you?”

His patience finally shatters. He slams his hands on either side of the door, trapping you between him and the cold, unyielding wood. His face is inches from yours, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation.

“Would you just listen to me, you stubborn woman,” he hisses, voice rough and raw with desperation. “I’ll admit it was stupid—hanging around her, trying to make you jealous. It was a stupid, pathetic move to get your attention. But I don’t have feelings for her. I never have, and I never will.”

Before you can react, his hands reach up, gently but firmly cradling your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are intense, every word dripping with sincerity. “I love you. I will always be in love with you. I fucking regret everything that led us here. If I could take it back, I would.”

A lump forms in your throat, and you whisper, “Eddie…”

His grip softens, and he leans in, his forehead nearly brushing yours, his voice barely a breath. “I don’t want to lose you. Please.”

But as his face inches closer, you feel the weight of the hurt that’s been building up. With a quick move, you slip out of his grasp, his hands falling away as you step back and push open the door. Without looking back, you walk out, leaving him standing alone.

A muffled, frustrated shout echoes behind you as Eddie slams his hand against the metal tissue dispenser, the impact ringing out in the empty bathroom.

[sicktrix]

To add to my last post something hits me about the fact that I think Tabby expresses care the best way he can; by trying to mirror the affection given to him.

Initially, Jammer is extremely confrontational towards him— his first action is to startle Tabby awake for no reason and then immediately starts spitting out accusations of being untrustworthy or out to get them. If all Tabby’s ever known of their relationship is “I don’t trust you, therefore I will not take the time to understand you, therefore I don’t like you” he’s obviously going to be extremely petty and childish back. (shoutout no jammer sign I miss his hater days). But then there’s a sudden shift, and both of them take the time to honestly understand each other down to their fundamental parts. That’s what matters to Tabby— true understanding. Because to understand is to connect, and to connect is to belong. Tabby’s nickname of TB2 later on only pushed him further into that place of belonging.

I think the little moment where Tabby draws K is also very sweet. K has been the most friendly to Tabby up to this point, constantly checking up on him and advocating for him in the group, and K is the first one to immediately humanize him (calling him “he” before anyone else). In the moment where K is kind to Tabby, it’s not necessarily the same as the experience him and Jammer went through, but it’s still important— the act of being seen. Not just as an object, but as a living thing. Of trying to connect to something even on a surface level. I think that’s why he drew K. Not just to better study them, but to convey a sense of reciprocity. “You see me, I see you”

Evan, on the other hand, got a (for better or worse) very emotional part of Tabby. The using of his own magic to repair something, to pour his hope for success and the joy of being with the people he loves into the act of fixing Tabby, immediately ricochets back at him. Tabby now gets the full “experience” of friendship and care past just initial connection. Is it good??? Eh. But it’s important to note that Tabby’s feelings on Weugan are a direct mirroring of Evan’s outlook at friendships amplified to the worst level given they’re on cocaine island where everything is pumped up to 11. He’s clingy and keeps cementing the fact that they are best friends and constantly tries to remind everyone that he is useful so there’s a reason to keep him around (He literally says Evan “taught him” that it’s only a matter of time before people leave) but is still bright and cheery and conversational. If an energy like this— if a kindness like this is given to him, he has no choice but to express a carbon copy of it back. And his personality shines! He’s playful and silly and so so curious, he find fascination in deep conversations and magical items and humour and people— it’s almost like he, for the first time, is genuinely alive.

[dubina-dawkins]

MISSING HIM

Dean Winchester x Reader

~400 words

>Sam went to college. And Dean is not happy with it.

A/N: short ig but im getting used to writing again so yeah. divider made by @bernardsbendystraws

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort,pretty fluffy,g/n reader,not really much of dialogues and more of descriptions

Whether you were in Nebraska, Wyoming, Minnesota on the case - when the deed was done, the monster killed and the victims rescued, you went straight to South Dakota, to one particular address, every damn time. Bobby's house was cozy in its own way, considering it was the closest thing to a father you'd ever had in your life.

But what you didn't expect was the eldest son of one of the other hunters throwing his arms around you. Dean looked grief-stricken, grieving and unhappy, yet he didn't say a word, only squeezed your shoulders harder when you asked him for an explanation. Obviously, he wasn't even "in resource" to say a few words. All that came out of him, in a low, shaky whisper, was "Sam" and something like "ran away".

And after a dozen minutes- or maybe two dozen- he was already lying in your arms, snuggled deep into the curve of your neck, as if this place had been designed just for that, for his nose to inhale the scent of car fragrance mixed with sweat, and Dean could have sworn it was intoxicating in a way.

And if another man had discovered that his brother had irrevocably run away from home for some college, he would have cried, but Dean wasn't that other man. So no sobs, no wet lashes, but his breathing was like he was being strangled, grasping for life and the last vestiges of his control with his fists clenched tightly on your back. Men don't cry, dad used to say. And Dean believed his father more than he believed himself. He believed anyone more than he believed himself, unless that someone was a supernatural creature. And obviously, he trusted you as much as he trusted John.

Seeing Dean so exhausted, so weak, so unhappy, made me question the last vestiges of this universe's adequacy. As much as you didn't understand Sam-he was still your friend, after all-Dean looked so bad, he probably wished he could forget that weakness that very evening.

And yet your fingers ran through the short curls, scratching his scalp.

"Mmhn, baby...what did I ever do to deserve you?" His voice was a faint whimper, almost unintelligible, muffled by the skin of your neck, where the sound sent pleasant vibrations through it.

You just chuckle. You were both worth it, no one was better or worse. That's what you wanted to say, but again, you didn't say anything.

His hands traced the outline of your arms, squeezing them in his palms, not hard, not even caressing. Dean mumbled something unintelligible, already completely numbed by your touch. But even now, the image of his brother was floating around in his head, worrying the hell out of him

But he had you. Seemed like that was enough.

[chaoticbug]

Part of my job for the last 9 months was analyzing far right content to understand how they push conspiracy theories and motivate their voters and I have one major takeaway.

By eroding the trust in news media and journalists, Trump created what was essentially an alternate reality of people where extremists created their own "news media" filled with right wing ideology as the "only trusted news source"

If you thought Fox News was bad, you have never had to bear witness the awfulness of Real America's Voice or One America News. These are places where I swear to god a daily part of their news show is to sell you "medical emergency kits" with ivermectin in it because "you never know when the next medical emergency will happen" implying that the government will intentionally try and poison it's citizens if they have proper health insurance. They say the FBI is lying to you about crime statistics, they tell you every crime is being committed by illegal immigrants. They lie about the economy and tell you to invest in gold if you want have any money in the future. They say constantly that Trump's trials were a conspiracy against rights against him to be used as way to start to round up anyone who supports him.

The amount of times that Steve Bannon and Peter Navarro would claim that they "went to prison so you didn't have to" was immeasurable. These people committed crimes and were held accountable and twisted it to say they were victims "protecting the American people"

There are thousands of unhinged right wing podcasts that stream for hours every day on a site called Rumble which I guarantee most of you have never heard of. These shows get hundreds of thousands of views daily. And they legitimize themselves by having sitting congressmen and senators on their shows frequently along with "experts" from right wing policy groups you have never even heard of. Then, they legitimize each other by showing up on each others podcasts.

All this to say is that there are hundreds of thousands of people who only get their news and any information here. These are people who will praise Trump's "they're eating the dogs line" because it was memorable and therefore it means he won the debate. This alternative media market has insulated these people from ever seeing the truth. It is impossible to convince someone of something if they are in the most tightly held echo chamber where all they hear are lies and they are being told anything other than this specific "alternative media" is lying to you.

Simply put, there is no left wing alternative to this. These people live in an alternate reality where the truth has been drowned out. We need to create that left wing alternative to bring truth back

[twig-tea]

Water Bottles in the Fridge as a Relationship Metaphor [Eps 5 and 6 of LITBC]

I sobbed after finishing Episodes 5 and 6 of Love in the Big City and I have been trying to find the words to articulate why but they aren't coming. So instead I'm going to talk about this relationship, focusing on the image that stuck strongest in my mind: The water bottles. [No book spoilers, this is all just reaction to the series].

After Gyu Ho moves in, Yeong comes home from a really draining day at work late because he's been writing in a cafe, only to passive-aggressively spray the drying laundry to mask the smell and stare at the empty shelf in the fridge where their stash of water bottles should be. He goes to his laptop to write more of his novel, while Gyu Ho behind him puts the laundry in the dryer and fills up the fridge with water. There are at least two other times when Gyu Ho fills up the fridge with water after one of their fights; the other one that stood out to me was Gyu Ho putting water in the fridge after coming home with his suitcase rather than moving out/leaving permanently. That relatively small but repeated chore stuck with me as an embodiment of Gyu Ho's tip-toeing that Yeong mentions in his voiceover.

If you've ever lived with anyone else, you know how the tiniest things can become massive irritants, especially when you are depressed or stressed, but it's true anytime. And you also know that those massive irritants do not mean you love them any less. I was blown away by how well these episodes, especially episode 6, captured a long term relationship's ups, downs, and mundanity. The palpable tension between Yeong and Gyu Ho, mixed with the easy dissipation of that tension and back to life as normal, radiated from the screen. Even when they fight, like in the cafe where Yeong is writing, they are fighting about how they want good things for each other. They just have different ideas about what that looks like and how they get there. I loved the tiny moments like Yeong, frustrated after the fight, walking home and hearing a stranger cuss out a cat, and smiling to himself because it reminded him of the 'Crabby Tabby' nickname Gyu Ho gave him.

[This is a bit of a sidenote, but the difference between Yeong Su's 'I'm moving to New York, did you think what we had was love?' and Gyu Ho's 'Come to Shanghai with me, I won't go without you' is so massive it's still sitting with me days later.]

It's clear that they're both trying, and at the same time, that they both are holding or held back. Gyu Ho is not a pushover and does hold his own in these arguments, and does make his mark on the space by e.g. putting up curtains, but he keeps backing down in the end; and Yeong continues to keep him at arms length even after trusting him with his biggest secret and deepest shame, and even after inviting him to live together. It's clear that sharing knowledge of Kylie does not free Yeong from shame about her. He asks Gyu Ho multiple times where he sees him as 'dirty', and Gyu Ho's response that he's the dirtiest joke is, I think, a loving attempt to say no in a way that Yeong can hear.

The scene on the train to the airport near the end of the episode captured their dynamic perfectly; Gyu Ho is willing to stand in order to spend time with Yeong, and Yeong is unwilling to let him. And Yeong is fundamentally correct that the circumstances of their lives (especially his life, with Kylie) mean that he would be holding Gyu Ho back, and Gyu Ho in the end makes the choice to listen and leave Yeong when he's told to rather than continue to fight him on it.

Yeong noticed and got annoyed by the water shelf not being refilled one time, And Gyu Ho filled it every time since, even when he was furious and barely wanted to be there at all. And Yeong noticed, but didn't know what to do about it, the same way he noticed how Gyu Ho always slept silently, and would constantly check his breathing (and even made snoring noises to himself to fill the silence), and took that as a sign that Gyu Ho did not feel safe or fully settled. He was unclear how much his own behaviour vs. Gyu Ho's personality were to blame:

"I wonder why you sleep in utter silence, like you're constantly on tip-toes. As if you're never home, no matter how long you've lived here. Is that my fault? Or is it your fault? Or maybe it's simply an inevitability."

I think it's the fact that these two love each other so much, and were both so reasonable and tried so hard, still could not make things work, and how fucking unfair it all feels, that made me sob. I don't know that I'll find better words than that.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM THE SERPENT AND THE WINGS OF NIGHT *  assorted dialogue from the book by carissa broadbent, adjust as necessary

i would beg. for you, i would.

you have fucking destroyed me, [name]. do you know that?

death isn't frightening when weighed against an insignificant existence.

i've lived through some injustices in the last couple of centuries.

a dead lover can never break your heart.

so many mistakes in the end. never you.

i give you my body. i give you my blood. i give you my soul. i give you my heart.

your soul is my soul.

i bind myself to you.

i wanted it to all be a lie. but it was not a lie.

never trust. never yield. always guard your heart.

vampires know better than anyone how important it is to protect their hearts.

love is sharper than any stake.

fear, when embraced, hardens and sharpens.

i would not die here.

don't fucking touch her.

there she is.

you are the most stunning thing i've ever seen, [name].

no one has ever said those words to me.

here's how you stay alive.

maybe our skin doesn't scar the same as yours, but our hearts do.

are you going to kill me, [name]?

you might destroy me anyway.

i would beg for you.

don't be so quick to throw away your humanity.

you might find you miss it once it's gone.

don't you fucking dare stop fighting.

it would break my heart.

nothing matters but this.

once you win, the world is yours.

this is the time for conquering.

you don't give an inch, do you?

why would he do this?

you smell like the sky.

i only know how to fight.

i can't take credit for everything that you've become.

fear is a collection of physical responses.

i love it, really, truly love it, when they underestimate me.

you're sweet. prickly, but sweet. in an acidic sort of way. like a pineapple.

love is a sacrifice at the altar of power.

you don't even know the things i've thought about.

there you are.

i used to be one of them.

i've saved your life twice now.

you're a demanding little thing, aren't you?

you aren't my prisoner.

i don't like feeling things.

i'm done hating myself for all my human weaknesses.

i will never be able to carve you from my heart. you are embedded too deep.

[dufferpuffer]

~crawls out of my mud hole like a bunyip~ Delicious… food… Albus meta...

This is a cool comparison to make - because so much is the same, as OP said. + Albus is trying to keep them on his side. + Harry and Severus have both lost someone dear to them and are going through emotional breakdowns. + They both blame themselves for their losses and both wish for non-existence. + Albus stays carefully controlled while they rage and mourn. + He references 'The Best Of' Severus and Harrys 'Greatest Strength' as being the fact they care deeply.

But I think, with all those similarities... We can distinctly see how these two situations differ.

(Small thing: I don't think Albus suspected Tom was immortal until at LEAST scar-baby with no Voldy-coprse, so it hadn't been kept from Severus. But whatever.)

Make no mistake: Albus is a COLD man. Just about frozen over. + Partially intentional - a lifetime of keeping people away, not trusting anyone with his vulnerabilities. + Partially just… he's always been like that. An outcast, out of step with the rest of the world.

In that section with Severus: His high heel boot is pressing down on Snape's neck. + He explains the situation in short, harsh sentences. + He cuts Snape off. + Offers one way forward with absolutely no comfort, no time to breathe, no understanding or sympathy. + He meets his anguish with harsh, mocking cruelty. + The pace is fast, bouncing between them, barely any descriptive words for Albus' speech other than 'coldly' and 'sighed'.

The only softness, the only 'warmth', is in him saying: “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Even that is manipulative: Agreeing to be obedient is 'the best' of him. It's a joke, really, to call him lifting his boot from choking Severus 'warmth'...

Adding this from a little before - 'coz it's DELICIOUSLY savage:

“I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe…” “She and James put their faith in the wrong person,” said Dumbledore. “Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?” Snape’s breathing was shallow.

...Severus dares to suggest ANY of this guilt sits with Albus and gets his head bitten off for it. Albus shirks responsibility off his own shoulders, slides it onto Severus' by comparing him directly to the betrayer - and then slaps him in the face for being such a moron, hoping Voldemort of all people would do as he asked. Whoever betrayed Lily (Sirius) is nothing compared to him and his foolish folly.

It is VICIOUS how Albus stomps guilt down his throat.

… ... ...

For Harry's section, He is bellowing in anguish too. (More violently but that's not important.) Albus has locked him in his office. He is railroading Harry, giving him one way forward: listen to what he has to say. Be obedient.

But the way he goes about this is so utterly different: (I'm including things omitted from the above point for its brevity - same chapter.)

‘I DON’T CARE!’ Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. ‘I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANY MORE -‘ He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions. ‘You do care,’ said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. ‘You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.’ ‘I - DON’T!’ Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him, too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside himself. ‘Oh, yes, you do,’ said Dumbledore, still more calmly. ‘You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care.’ ‘YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL!’ Harry roared. ‘YOU- STANDING THERE- YOU-‘ But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it. But the door would not open. Harry turned back to Dumbledore. ‘Let me out,’ he said. He was shaking from head to foot. ‘No,’ said Dumbledore simply. For a few seconds they stared at each other. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said again. ‘No,’ Dumbledore repeated. ‘If you don’t - if you keep me in here - if you don’t let me -‘ ‘By all means continue destroying my possessions,’ said Dumbledore serenely. ‘I daresay I have too many.’ He walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. ‘Not until I have had my say,’ said Dumbledore.

Albus is unflinching, detached. Harry hates how calm he is, he wants to break how calm he is, make him openly feel something for once. Albus is infuriatingly serene, saying things simply, sitting down… encouraging Harry's outburst of emotion. It is Harry that speaks coldly this time - forcing his anguish to be calm and savage rather than hot and roaring.

That is already hugely different from when he spoke to Severus - where he cut him off and mocked him. 'Is this remorse? What use is that to anyone?'

Rather than telling Harry his pain is useless he sympathizes. Deeply. With intricate detail: He knows how it feels to lose your father, mother and close family: It is 'as if you will bleed to death with the pain'. He could have brought up his own experiences up - to try and prove that he does know, that he and Harry are the same in this. But he doesn't. What use would his remorse be? To try and gain sympathy, a defense of himself, at this moment of horror would be grotesquely selfish. He isn't here to defend himself.

‘Do you - do you think I want to - do you think I give a - I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO SAY!’ Harry roared. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!’ ‘You will,’ said Dumbledore steadily. ‘Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.’ ‘What are you talking -?’ ‘It is my fault that Sirius died,’ said Dumbledore clearly. ‘Or should I say, almost entirely my fault - I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone.’ Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what he was hearing. ‘Please sit down,’ said Dumbledore. It was not an order, it was a request.

With Severus - Albus took any guilt off his own shoulders and saddled Severus with it. Used it to pressure him. He does the EXACT opposite here. Everything is put on his own shoulders and the little bit that isn't he frames as a compliment to Sirius' character - not a failing.

+ He guilt-tripped and demanded Severus pay his debt to Lily. He gave him no choice. Severus' obedience would be his best quality. + He requests Harry to sit down and listen while he gives him the truth. Explains his own guilt. Not for sympathy, but because Harry is owed the truth. 'If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been…'

Albus is not an open man. he is secretive, distant, cold. But he isn't doing that here. For pages and pages he answers Harry's questions in such detail... I doubt he has told anyone else such a complete account. He likes to keep the whole picture to himself having been bitten by betrayals before… But he tells Harry so much. He answers his yelled, spat and snarled questions calmly - never once 'coldly'.

…And it gets to him. It cracks his calm, unflinching persona. A man who does things 'for the greater good', keeping himself detached from wild emotions to stand steady, act with cold logic:

Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften him. On the contrary, he felt even angrier that Dumbledore was showing signs of weakness. He had no business being weak when Harry wanted to rage and storm at him. Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses. ‘It is time,’ he said, ‘for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me - to do whatever you like - when I have finished. I will not stop you.’ [...] ‘Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine,’ said Dumbledore. ‘An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort.’ […] ‘Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid.’ ‘I don’t -‘ ‘I cared about you too much,’ said Dumbledore simply. ‘I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act. […] Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard.

...It is all so out of character for Albus to speak like this. To spend pages not just explaining events and other peoples perspectives - but his own personal thought processes, his own emotions, his own failings and his own plans.

Maybe it's all a manipulative act. He's leaking crocodile tears with big puppy eyes to win Harry's favor, giving him what he wants - knowledge and support - to lure him back to obedience... But that is the exact opposite to how we normally see him manipulate people.

+ Twinkling eyes and small smiles, light silly humor + Mixing making himself seem impressive with self-effacing. + Staying calm and unaffected, as if lightly humored. + Gently pointing people in the direction he wants them to think rather than giving answers outright, risking leaking how he feels and what he knows. (as even seen in the very first chapter of the first book). + A judging use of "So you would even feel X…?", bringing up the concept of 'X' as if he may disagree - but leaving himself free to swing positive or negative, or stay vague. When tensions get higher: + His calm freezing over, becoming cold. + Speech snappy and harsh, insulting and belittling. + Dominating demands, controlling the conversation. + Never revealing more information than is strictly necessary. + Withholding information, even when cruel to do so. + Acting innocent while twisting events to favor him.

He isn't doing ANY of that in this chapter with Harry. And when he does almost, just a little, like the multiple probings of 'do you see now where my plan failed…?' - trying to avoid having to rip himself open and admit his feelings… he does so anyway. Not vague, not tip-toeing: he bites the bullet. He stays calm, yes - but is not unaffected. He cries. He shows weakness Harry has never seen before.

It's not just a one-and-done moment either - from this point on he includes Harry in so much of HBP. He takes him from the Dursleys mere days into Summer (after Harry tells him off here for keeping him 'trapped' like Sirius) and gets his aid in things he tells nobody else about (after saying here how he should have been including him more, like Harry wanted, rather than pushing him away for 'his own safety' when he will be in danger no matter what.) Albus heeds Harry's pain and works to do better. He changes.

He is not as cold and manipulative here as he was to Snape.

Dumbledore's Manipulations: Part 6(?)

I just reread the scene in Deathly Hallows of Dumbledore and Snape on Snape's memories after Lily died, and that entire scene reminded me of the scene at the end of book 5. After Sirius died and Harry was having his breakdown.

Snape breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?” “DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone. . . dead. . . ” “Is this remorse, Severus?” “I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . ” “And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly. “If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.” Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore’s words appeared to take a long time to reach him. “What—what do you mean?” “You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.” “He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—” “The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.” There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last, he said, “Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter’s son. . . I want your word!” “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist. . . ”

(DH, 573)

Harry breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Sirius dies:

“There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,” said Dumbledore’s voice. “On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.” Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words. “My greatest strength, is it?” said Harry, his voice shaking as he stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. “You haven’t got a clue. . . . You don’t know . . .” “What don’t I know?” asked Dumbledore calmly. It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage. “I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?” “Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —” “THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!” [...] “Let me out,” Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. “Not until I have had my say,” said Dumbledore. [...] “It meant,” said Dumbledore, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.” Harry felt as though something was closing in upon him. His breathing seemed difficult again. “It means — me?” [...] “I am afraid,” said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, “that there is no doubt that it is you.”

(OotP, 823)

I just, found these two scenes awfully similar in tone when reading the one in Deathly Hallows last night.

In both Snape/Harry are in emotional turmoil after the most important person to them dies. Both feel like dying (Snape: "I wish I were dead", Hary: "then I don't want to be human"). Both shout at Dumbledore when he speaks all too calmly of things they don't want/need to hear at that moment.

And Dumbledore speaks calmly and coldly to both of them, revealing information he hid from them both (to Snape he tells about Voldemort's immortality, to Harry he tells about the Prophecy) before guilting them through their grief into what he needs them to do.

Now, I'm not exactly blaming him, because, from his position, he needs Snape as a spy and he needs Harry to be willing to do anything to kill Voldemort — to take Voldemort as his responsibility. Dumbledore needs these things to happen to have the best chance of completing his plan to defeat Voldemort.

I just, can't help but note how cold it is. How cold and manipulative Dumbledore can be when he feels he needs to be. Even as he explains his care for Harry as a flaw in his plan, he speaks calmly and simply. And he is right caring about Harry is a flaw, because he always planned for Harry to die. He knew since he saw the scar on Harry's forehead:

“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.”

(OotP, 826)

And even if I think Dumbledore is honest in that he'd rather Harry wouldn't die, I don't think he cares for him as much as he says he does. In the same way, he's very cold towards Snape even years later when he tells him Harry must die. (I don't think Snape and Dumbledore are actually friends)

Idk, I just read the scene in DH with Snape and it really reminded me of the scene with Harry at the end of OotP.

[altocat]

Do you think Hojo would leave Sephiroth anything if he died? Inheritance? A last message? Bait to make him go to Nibelhelm?

He'd probably leave everything to him, at least in terms of assets. Hojo is a peculiar creature. And very complex. He takes great pleasure in harming Sephiroth on a physical, medical, emotional, and psychological level, but Sephiroth is also the only thing in his life he has ever prioritized. His life was dedicated to Sephiroth, doing whatever was required in order for his son to succeed. Hojo is not a people person. He looks down on everyone. The only person he's ever fully "loved" (and that's with BIG quotes) is Sephiroth. Therefore, everything goes to him.

His last message to Sephiroth is not one of reconcilliation, of course. More or less a tongue and cheek reminder to not fuck up R&D if he can help it (though Hojo knows Sephiroth will probably just torch it to the ground). He tells Sephiroth to not slack off and to continue to excel. And a small bit of wisdom as well--Sephiroth should not trust anyone. Not his companions. Not Shinra. Not SOLDIER. Hojo advises him to use whatever tactics are necessary in order to succeed. And to KILL whoever stands in his way.

Beneath all that, a smudged blurb of very specific coordinates to a very specific town. Sephiroth might find it very interesting. Hojo wishes him well. Tells him to be good. Tells him to be less of an emotionally stunted idiot like he always is.

And at at the very bottom:

Your loving Father,

H.

[azrielwingspan]

RED SERPENT (Mob!Bucky x f!reader)

MASTERLIST

Chapter 4- Bloodhound and Loyalty

Summary: King and Queen of New York. The one who knows how to play the game, survives.

Warnings: Violence, mature content, sexual themes, foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the actions written in this story.

"Pierce." you say, tone flat.

A smirk crawls onto his face, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Who would've thought that we would meet like this?"

"Not me." you replied in the same tone, an image of punching him right in the face flashing through your mind.

"Steve , Sam.." he says nodding at the two men in front of you. They don't respond to his greeting and move an inch closer to you. This action doesn't go unnoticed by Pierce. His smirk widens as he shakes his head.

"Looks like there's some sniffing out to do. After all..." he shifts his gaze to look at your directly "loyalty is hard to find these days."

You don't let his carefully worded threat phase you. "Every dog off of the street will show you loyalty once you feed them."

Taking great pleasure in watching the smirk slowly fade from his face, you got up and walked towards Bucky leaving behind Sam and Steve to deal with Pierce. It was time to form a new plan. Pierce would hold the information he had above your head and use you like his own plaything if you didn't do something soon.

How could you have missed this though? You were absolutely certain that you had him in the palm of your hand and yet he had been fooling you and working with Bucky. How long would he take to tell Bucky that his wife was the culprit and thought she could get away with it ?

Bloody hell.

You spotted him across the room talking with Helmut, another member of the inner circle. Helmut seemed aggravated but listened to Bucky as he spoke. Impatience taking hold of you, you approached them hands behind your back.

"Helmut, a moment with my husband please." you said looking straight at Bucky, face devoid of emotion.

"Yes, maybe you can fix this." Helmut said walking away. He was the only member who was bold enough to speak against Bucky right to his face. Holding back a smile at his ballsy nature, you stepped towards Bucky.

"I'm getting tired of your antics for the night, husband."

Bucky simply took a sip from his glass of amber liquid and studied my face for a few seconds. "Follow me." Without waiting for a response, he started heading towards the entrance. You walked by his side, anger simmering beneath your skin.

Ignoring the stares directed at the both of you, Bucky closed the door to the office behind him and headed to the small dark balcony that overlooked the dance floor.

He stood near the banister, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his glass. Joining him by his side, you followed his gaze and looked down at the figures dancing beneath, unaware of the tensions running high in the room upstairs.

"This is one of the best establishments in the city." Bucky spoke not looking at you.

"I'm aware." your gaze lifted upto him, noticing the sharp line of his jaw as his head remained turned.

"Your dad is one of the sharpest minds in the business. He knew what would work and what wouldn't. He was always right. Every single time." he let out a small sigh as he turned to face you finally.

You couldn't get a read on his expression. The dim lighting made it harder to see his eyes.

"When I was younger, I'd always wondered how he'd managed to do it. I'd asked my old man multiple times. He just asked me to figure it out." he stayed silent for a few moments.

I raised my eyebrow indicating for him to go on.

A tilt of the corner of his lips before he continued. "I was too young and reckless to ever trust anyone. Placed myself on a pedestal thinking that everyone was beneath me. Learnt the hard way that loyalty had to be earned and not demanded."

Your breath caught in your throat as he brought up loyalty again. That word would be plaguing your nightmares for quite some time.

"I needed to place my trust in...certain individuals to get somewhere in this business. It helped, a lot." he paused again, searching my eyes for something. The truth, perhaps?

"Where are you going with this, James?" you ask softly knowing very well where this was headed.

"The first time someone betrayed me, I didn't know what to do. Trusting someone was new to me but so was letting them go. After 3 days of no sleep, I shot him in the head."

He looked at the gulp you had taken, his eyes trailing over your throat and slowly coming back up to meet your eyes.

"So I'll ask you this once and only once." His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he took a small step forward, his height towering over you. His cologne that had once comforted you felt like a cocoon of danger where escape was a wild dream. Head tilted down to meet your eyes, he whispered, his voice spreading goosebumps over your body.

"Why did you do it, sweetheart?"

A/N: I know this is very short but I promise the next one will be longer !!

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