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#and god help me i’ve experienced it more than enough
lordendsavior · 2 years
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deltaharrington · 1 month
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SHARING IS CARING
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PAIRING: Boyfriend!Bokuto Koutaro x Fem!Reader x Hinata Shoyo
SUMMARY: Bokuto’s close friend, and teammate, Hinata is inexperienced when it comes to women, so Bokuto decides to share his girlfriend as practice…
WARNINGS: NSFW content, MINORS DNI, sexual content, kinda poly?, group mastrubation, etc. Timeskip Bokuto and Hinata (THEY ARE CONSENTING ADULTS)
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Dating a professional volleyball player came with its ups and downs.
Bokuto was the perfect boyfriend by all means, but that didn’t distract from the fact that he had to travel a lot, and with your work schedule, you couldn’t always make it to games.
As much as he loved seeing you at his games, Ko understood that you wanted to work. (Even though he’d argued plenty that his own income was enough for you both).
At times when you were separated, he’d have more time with the MSBY team.
Especially Hinata.
It was no surprise that his star pupil had grown since high school. He was taller, more experienced, and a complete catch.
So when the ginger expressed that he hadn’t had any luck with woman, Ko was shocked.
“I’ve never even touched a woman, Bokuto-san!” The ginger whined in the locker room after a game. All of the other boys had left, and the pair always went back to the hotel together.
“I feel like….I don’t know how” He added and Bokuto raised a brow at the revelation. “Like..you! I see the damn scratch marks Y/N gives you, so you must be doing something right” Hinata said, his cheeks flushing a bit.
“Are you saying I’m good in bed. Shoyo?” Bokuto teased and the ginger groaned and huffed, shaking his head a bit.
“Can you teach me? Or…tell me how you do it?” Hinata asked “I can flirt and get girls just fine, but when we go to have sex- I don’t think I know how to please them enough”
Bokuto understood that better than anyone. When you two first began dating, he was more than inexperienced and he was terrified he wasn’t doing anything right.
It took practice, and soon enough, you were putty beneath Bokuto when you had sex. He was an absolute God in bed.
If only he had someone to teach him.
“I have a proposition for you, Hinata” Bokuto said before he sat next to the ginger on the locker room bench. “If Y/N is okay with it, I’ll let you borrow her for practice” He said.
Hinata nearly gaped at the offer. “Bokuto- I couldn’t do that! She’s your girlfriend!”
“Sure you can my man! I’m completely okay with it, if it’ll boost your confidence.” Bo said “And Y/N is good at this stuff! She helped me!” He said.
So it was settled. Now to get your permission.
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“You want me to what?”
“I want you to let Hinata fuck you, he needs the practice” Kotarou said like it was nothing.
“I- what made you think of this?” You asked, shocked.
You’d just been lounging on the couch with Bokuto when he brought the topic up. He’d just gotten home and you were spending as much time together as you could before he had to leave again.
“He was stressing about pleasing women, and I was like that when I met you” Bokuto explained. Oh. So he felt bad for him.
“I…I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to it” You mumbled and he smiled. “Only if you’re there” You added and he nodded with a stern look on his face.
“I have to guide him- I’m not sending him in blind” Bokuto said “And besides, you are mine after all” He added and you rolled your eyes playfully.
The idea had your mind racing with not-so-pure thoughts. Having two big guys pleasing you? Oh god. You hoped you wouldn’t regret this…
“How’s next week sound, pretty girl?” Ko said and you nodded your head, the nerves in your stomach swirling at the mere thought of showing your boyfriend’s best friend how to fuck properly.
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The night of the…uh act? You didn’t know what to call it, but it came quickly. Bokuto planned on bringing Hinata over for dinner and then afterwards “the fun would happen”, as your boyfriend put it.
He requested that you wore his favorite set, as he planned on getting in on the action too. He wasn’t fond of being left out, especially not by Hinata.
The poor ginger boy was a blushing mess when he arrived at your apartment, and you tried to calm him down with small talk, but that only seemed to heighten his nerves.
“Hey, Hinata” You spoke as he picked at his dinner, his cheeks properly flushed and his hands shaking like a leaf. Poor guy.
“No need to be nervous, think of this like volleyball practice” You said and he began to lighten up after that. Thank the Gods.
Once dinner was over and everything was cleaned up, Bokuto led you both to the bedroom, having Hinata sit in the chair near your bed so he could watch first.
Bokuto stood looming over you with a hungry look in his eyes. Your cheeks heated up at this, glancing to Hinata to see nearly the same look in his eyes.
Oh fuck.
“The first thing you have to nail is the way you kiss someone…like this” Bokuto said and moved to you, gently cupping your cheek before leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. You almost immediately moaned into his mouth just by the mere passion in his actions, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.
Hinata watched intensely as you two made out, watching as Bokuto’s hands trailed to your waist and slipped under your shirt, gently squeezing at your plush hips.
Hinata was nearly a mess just watching something this intimate up close.
Bokuto pulled away, a small string of saliva connecting your mouths. A sheepish smile crossed your features he smiled. “Now she’s shy…” He teased before waving Hinata over.
Shoyo stood and made his way to you like he was a magnet, his eyes glued to yours.
“Your turn” Bokuto said and Hinata did as told. He gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him before his lips met yours.
A gasp emitted from you as Hinata pulled your body flush to his, his large hand slipping under your shirt and traveling up your back.
He slipped his tongue into your mouth and your hands caught in his hair, gently tugging at the shorter strands near the nape of his neck, earning a grunt in response from him.
When Hinata pulled away, the same string of saliva held you together like with Bokuto.
“H-How was that?” He asked and scratched the back of his neck.
“Hinata..you were perfect, you did exactly what Bokuto would have” You said and your boyfriend smiled wide.
“See? You’ve got this ginger!” Bokuto said and gave you a smirk, moving to stand behind you.
“Stay in front of her” Your boyfriend ordered and Shoyo nodded his head. “Now, let’s get these off, hm?” He said and gently raised your shirt over your head, revealing the, nearly see through, bra you were wearing. He did the same with you pants, leaving you in your matching panties.
Hinata was a blushing mess “You’re so beautiful” He muttered and you blushed a bit.
Bokuto gently wrapped his arms around you from behind and you leaned into him. His hands trailed up and began to grope at your tits, emitting a small whine from you.
“She’s super sensitive, which means she’s very vocal…she’ll tell you if she doesn’t like something” Bokuto said and Hinata nodded his head profusely.
Bokuto’s right hand slid down your front and then into your panties, making your cheeks flush.
His middle finger found your clit and he began circling at a fast pace, causing you to throw your head back and let out a loud moan.
This lasted a bit, and Hinata was watching as you nearly fell apart in Bokuto’s arms.
“I like to play with her a bit, mark her up, bring her right to the edge…” Bo said right as you were close to cumming. He then stopped his movements, earning a pout from you.
“We’ve gotta let Hinata in on the action too, sweetheart” Bokuto said and you nodded “He can make you cum”
Hinata and Bokuto switched positions and you expected Hinata to have some trouble finding your clit, but he found it almost immediately, and he absolutely went crazy, his middle finger moving in circles at an ungodly pace.
“Hinata! Shit- that feels so good!” You cried out. His left arm supported your body weight as you leaned into him, loud and unpredictable moans leaving your throat.
“Fuck! Can I cum?” You asked and Hinata looked to Bokuto, who shrugged.
“It’s up to you Hinata” The man said and Hinata smirked a bit.
“Mm not yet, hold on a bit longer for me” The ginger cooed and you cried out in desperation.
“Please! Shoyo!” You begged and he hummed in confirmation before you came, your body shaking. Hinata held you up and helped you ride through the orgasm. He was good at this.
“Now give her some praise…she likes that” Bokuto said and Hinata nodded.
“You did so good for me” He whispers and pressed kisses to your cheeks and neck from behind you. “Good girl” He added and your cheeks flushed a deep red.
“Is….is that all?” Hinata asked and Bokuto raised a brow.
“Oh, we’re just getting started”
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PART 1 of 2
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hells-wasabii · 4 months
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So I came down with Covid yesterday :(
I was seeing if you were open to do one with Alastor and a sick reader? I don’t do requests often, this is so new to me💕❤️
Hi! I hope you’re feeling better by the time you read this! Covid isn’t fun at ALL, but I hope you enjoy the read!
Character: Alastor
Type: Headcanons+Drabble (Alastor x sick!reader, Fluff)
Alastor as a caretaker would honestly be a sight to behold. And he’s surprisingly good at it? Then again whenever his mother would fall ill he was right there to nurse her back to health, so he’s got a little bit of experience in that department.
Speaking of his mother, he would go out of his way to cook something for you, more specifically soups and the like that she would make for him when he was sick. Something full of nutrients to help you get back on your feet. When he would get sick as a child he had his mother to rely on, and now, you would have him. You were his partner after all. He couldn’t just leave you in such a state.
He would personally oversee that you’re well taken care of. Whether it be fresh linens for your bed or water to drink should you wake up thirsty. Whatever you needed, he would have it to you just as quickly as he could. It was odd seeing him so… nurturing, but then again the radio demon did have a habit of showing you sides of him that the rest of hell would never see.
You were sick, there was no doubt about that. You had been for nearly two days now. The first day hadn’t been that bad, at least at first. You didn’t even know it was possible to get sick in hell, and yet here you were, laid up in bed recovering from one of the worst fevers you’d ever experienced. It made you wonder if hell had some sort of super-flu or something of the like
It had quickly escalated to the point that it felt as if you could feel your bones. The second day you had spent much of asleep, a fact that had been a small relief on your aching body. That is until the fitful fever dreams came along. Oddly enough you found yourself trying to solve puzzles as a means to break the fever. It never worked.
The only thing that really kept you grounded when you were conscious had been the chills that left your muscles aching. Of course, you knew that sickness couldn’t kill you in hell, especially not a sinner, but by god did it feel like you were dying. 
Everything had been a haze up until a couple of hours ago. 
You had already decided by that point that the only thing worse than actually being in hell was being sick as hell in hell. But you did count yourself lucky, you did have one hell of a caretaker, after all. Groggily you opened your eyes to look over at the demon reading in the plush armchair in the corner of your room. You’re not sure how exactly he knew that you were awake, but the radio demon lifted his gaze to meet yours not even moments later. You noticed his smile softened just a bit before he spoke.
“Glad to see you’re awake, darling.” The radio demon said gently, sliding a bookmark between the pages of his book and setting it down on the seat of the chair as he got up. “Give me a moment to fetch you something to eat, I imagine you’re quite famished. I’ve prepared a soup I know you’re just going to love, my mother's recipe!”
The soft lull of a radio playing music from your bedside table met your ears. You thought you could recognize that song, you were sure it was one you had heard Alastor humming before. It brought a smile to your lips. You decided that you quite liked that song, as well.
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igotanidea · 11 months
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Single parent struggles : father!Dick Grayson x mother!reader
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THAT!!! PICTURE!!!!!
summary/request: single Father Dick Grayson x single Mother reader? Where at some kids birthday party also can the kids be between the ages of like 3 and 4.
A/N: writing this was just so cute and heartwarming and pleasant and fluffy. I think this is going to be my new verse, so if anyone ever get any ideas in that - please ask me to write more UwU <3
***
„Thomas, please stop running around!” Y/N laughed happily when her 4 year old son slipped on the floor and run into her legs. She was quick enough to catch him, before he actually landed on his bottom and started crying.
“Sorry mum!” he grinned with the cutest smile there was, and not paying much attention to his mother’s admonishment regained his balance and followed the friends that he was chasing. “Wait for me!” he yelled before disappearing.
Her son was invited to a birthday party of his kindergarten friend, and obviously, she happened to be a tag along. Helping with the service and acting as a supervisor.  Not that  she complained. Being a single parent was rewarding, but also happened to be her bread and butter and she didn’t have many occasion to go out the house and spend time with actual adult outside of work. Sure, she loved Thomas with all her heart and never regretted the decision of having him, even when his failure of a father took off running the second he found out about the pregnancy, but sometimes she was just tired. And having an opportunity to hang out and relax and watch her son being so happy around other kids were simply heartwarming. Thomas shed too many tears and experienced sadness asking about the other parent and Y/N swore, that to the maximum of her  abilities, she would protect him from that pain.
“God….” she muttered to herself, gathering the fruit bowl from the counter. “I swear the kids never get tired……” her son’s energy was exhausting, but the serene expression in her eyes were showing the truth feelings behind the sigh. Lost in her own thoughts Y/N turned around not noticing the man standing right behind her, bumping straight into the sculpted chest, immediately being caught by two strong arms, the bowl serving as some sort of airbag.
“I know, right?” the man let out a laugh still holding onto her “I’m dealing with the same problem with my daughter. Don’t know who said that girls are quieter and more polite than boys but it does not apply in this case.”
“Hello Richard.” Y/N tilted her head “didn’t see you around for a while.”
Richard Grayson, more often than not called “Dick” was the treat for all the mothers. Handsome, well-build, kind with charming, boyish attitude and most importantly, single father. Rumor has it that the mother had some mental problems and one day escaped the hospital where she and the daughter were getting some treatment and observation, took the kid and left it on the threshold of Dick’s house before disappearing herself. Despite Dick’s attempt to locate her (and boy, that man definitely had the resources, being the son of the Bruce Wayne) he never succeeded, giving up after some time.
And that gave the soccer mothers plenty of opportunities to get him involved in all possible kids’ activities. Kindergarten play? Picnic? Cinema sally? Birthday party? He was pretty much everywhere. Much to all the husbands’ displeasure.
But, since both he and Y/N were the only single parent and  the subjects of many rumors that gave them the opportunity to get close and become really good friends. After all, there��s no one better to understand the struggles of raising a kid alone.
“Yeah….” He scratched his head awkwardly, letting go of her arm “I’ve been running after Abby, making sure she does not get in any troubles. But it seems like the fire is fought for a moment and I can finally catch a breath. “
“Really?” Y/N mocked putting the bowl away, crossing arms over her chest “guess the apple does not fall far from the tree, right? Abby takes a lot after you.”
“Are you calling me a troublemaker?” Dick caught his chest and his eyes widened in a fake shock. “Me?”
“Yes.” She teased “Aren’t you?”
“Maybe a bit” he muttered taking a step forward. This made Y/N take a step back and in no time she was trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “But there’s one more thing me and Abby have in common.”
“And what may that be, Mr. Grayson?” she raised an eyebrow, observing his face carefully and impatiently awaiting the answer.
“We both happen to like the member of the l/n family.” He smirked, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards him closing the distance between them.  Her hands found a way towards his neck, locking around it and bringing his lips down for a kiss. It’s been a while since they had any opportunity to be alone, and they were not going to miss it. Even if that meant making out in a messy kitchen in someone else’s house, hiding from their kids. They were acting like teenagers, sneaking around and trying to keep their relationship a secret. And despite the fact that they were both adults this courtship was gentle, careful, soft. They have been hurt before and the cautiousness was making them both take it slow.
But obviously it didn’t mean that there was no passion between them when Dick grabbed onto her tighter, wanting her closer, his hands travelling around her back, sneaking under her shirt, craving to feel her skin, but still keeping the slow, loving pace.
“Behave….” She mumbled into the kiss, but not really stopping him. “Someone can see us…..”
“Oh, please…” he fought the urge to roll his eyes, moving to brush her cheek, jaw and neck in the teasing attempt to make her whine for him  “you can’t keep your hands to yourself either.” The bastard was right since her fingers were playing with his hair, pulling lightly.
“I can stop….” She started withdrawing her hands but he was quick to grab her wrist keeping it in place.
“Don’t.” his soft whispers and touches were literally making her melt. “I missed you, Y/n. I missed this…. us……” God, how she loved his attention, even when he pulled back and stopped kissing her, instead looking her straight in the eyes. “I .... wish to have more of you just for myself…..”
“I know. I feel the same.”  She smiled and her eyes glistened. Before she met him, after Thomas’s father left, she didn’t believe she could find love again. But life can be surprising and even if they haven’t really said the L word to each other,now she was trapped in the arms of a man who did love her with the undying passion and with whom she felt save and taken care of us as never before. And every time they stole a kiss or a secret touch or just talked or spent time together she felt like crying because of that warm feeling inside her chest and belly. This time was no different as  few tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Crying again?” Dick cupped her face, brushing those drops away with his thumb “don’t cry on my account princess.” He brushed his nose over hers, forehead meeting forehead, eyes closing, breathing each other in.
“How can I not?” she sighed deeply, unable to hold back everything he was making her feel. “Dick, I….”
“I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, rocking her gently to the sound of music coming from the garden causing her to smile again.  
He knew.
He knew the heartbreak, the pain, the unanswered question why. He’s been through it all. And it was not his intention to play around with Y/n’s emotions and feelings or to hurt her. Ever. Not with everything she’s been through.
“I’m not like him…..” he whispered, almost inaudibly and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.
“How long do you think since one of the mums start looking for you to move the chairs or ask for another stupid favor?”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Are you jealous?”
“And what if I am?” she twirled a strand of hair on her finger, eyes fixed on his.
“Well, than I’m flattered, but you have no reason for that, baby.” His hands intertwined with hers, caressing tenderly “I lo…..” he almost said it. Almost.
“Daddy?” a quiet, girl’s voice cut him off and it took massive amount of energy to muffle the annoyed groan. Of course it was kids who interrupted him.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he pulled back
“I cut my finger….” Abby pouted, her gaze switching between her father and Y/N. “what are you doing?”
“We were just getting some fruits for you.” the older girl smiled “I’m gonna go and let your father take care of you, little one. See you around, Richard.” She moved away from him and with one final lingering secret brush of hands left him, still aching for her, not able to ever get enough of her presence.
“Daddy?” Abby asked again once Y/N was out of sight.
“Yes?”
“Do you like Thomas’s mum?”
“Do you?”
“She’s nice and pretty. And gives the best hugs. “ the girl frowned, thinking deeply “so yes, I think I like her.”
“That’s good to know.” Dick smiled pecking the top of Abby’s head.  He was not going to let this woman out of his life and his daughter’s acceptance was very important for the future purposes.
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justcallmefox89 · 24 days
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Gale and the Gith: Chapter Sixteen - After the Creche
They've made it out of the creche safely, but nothing is the same.
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The journey back to camp is frantic as Gale and Astarion struggle to carry an unconscious X’aa’nath between them. Lae’zel silently forges ahead, refusing to even look in the general direction of her injured kin.  Gale has never been a particularly violent man, but Lae’zel’s indifference towards X’aa’nath has him itching to cast a well-placed fireball in her direction.
Karlach is the first to spot them and quickly jogs over, effortlessly hoisting X’aa’nath in her arms.
“Oh thank the gods,” Astarion groans, rolling his shoulders.  “I never realized someone so thin could weigh so much.”
“What happened to Soldier?” Karlach asks, casting a worried eye at the handprint shaped bruised on X’aa’nath’s cheek and the dried blood from his earlier nosebleed.  Her eyes flick to the others, taking in their similarly bedraggled states.  “The creche wasn’t interested in helping huh?”
“X’aa’nath failed us all,” Lae’zel snarls.  “Now my kin hunt us, and I have been named hshar’lak.”
“Gods not this again,” Astarion whines, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in exasperation.
“Lies,” Gale seethes.  “He saved us.”
“Yes, you would take up for him… wouldn’t you?”  Lae’zel sneers at the wizard.
The orb flares in his chest but the pain is secondary to the anger he’s currently feeling.  “You egotistical, stubborn, vindictive harpy,” he growls, stepping closer to Lae’zel.  “Be grateful that X’aa’nath still carries some fondness for you, because if it was up to me I would have left you rotting in that creche with the rest of your kin.”
“Ok then,” Karlach says loudly, interrupting the pair.  “I’m just going to uh, have Halsin take a peek at Soldier.  The rest of you should probably pay Shadowheart a visit… you look like hell.”
She adjusts X’aa’nath’s limp body in her arms and jogs back towards the others, calling for Halsin.
Gale and Lae’zel remain locked in a silent starring contest, neither willing to concede.  Astarion looks on warily, unsure if he should intervene. 
Gale is the first to break the silence.  “Do not speak to him.  Do not speak of him.  Do not even look in his direction.”
Lae’zel snorts out an incredulous laugh.  “Are you threatening me, wizard?”
The orb flashes brightly, it’s eerie purple glow echoed in the depths of Gale’s usually brown eyes.  “Yes.”
One final look of contempt and Gale turns to quickly follow Karlach, Astarion tagging at his heels, leaving Lae’zel alone.  When the two reach camp they find X’aa’nath has already been laid on his bedroll, Shovel tucked against his chest with their tail wrapped around one of his arms. Scratch lays over his legs, whining softly while the owlbear cub curls up against his back.  Astarion touches Gale’s shoulder in a rare show of camaraderie before exhaustedly trudging towards his own tent.
Halsin sits next to the fire, observing X’aa’nath with a slight frown of concentration on his face.  Gale is surprised to see that the sorcerer’s eyes are now open, blankly staring off into the distance.
“How is he?” Gale asks quietly, settling down next to Halsin with a small groan.
“He’s severely overextended his magic.  I’ve seen others much more experienced than him perish using magic in such a way.  Oak Father be praised that he didn’t lose control of himself.”  The druid falls silent.
“Why do I sense a ‘but’ on the tip of your tongue?”
Halsin grins faintly.  “Physically X’aa’nath is well, aside from a few small injuries that were easy enough to heal.  But his soul feels… unsettled.  Pained.  And that can only heal with time.”
“Time,” Gale echoes softly.  “I can only hope that we have enough.”
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Aizawa x class 1-A reader when he finds out reader is also doing vigilante work? I’ve always wondered how he would feels about that
Icl I feel like he would understand tbh like he was probably doing the exact same thing before his career took off. He has a very strong moral standpoint so I figure he would place justice above legality but hes still a teacher and would have to disapprove but he wouldn't be like angry??
I feel like this was portrayed in the anime but it's been a hot minute since I've watched it - what do you think? :D
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 <3
Check out my kinktober!
𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) - 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞
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Dark circles decorate your eyes as you sit slouched at the desk before class starts. Sleep had eluded you as you spent the night with your parents, helping them feed into their warped, self-indulgent sense of justice by doing vigilante work.
Usually, you'd consider yourself to be at a strong, good moral standpoint, focused on doing good by the people rather than focusing on legality and logistics. But to be quite honest, this self-righteous act of "freeing the people" is starting to become exhausting. It's actually getting on your nerves, really.
You love your parents, but they can be very, exhaustingly eccentric at times, and sometimes outright smug. It's absolutely infuriating. It's so difficult to watch that it hurts, and the more you think about it, the more bitter you begin to feel.
Or maybe this is just the exhaustion talking. Who knows?
It feels like you're just sacrificing little pieces of yourself at this point, giving your body and soul to some 'vigilante work' and your training to persue your career as a hero.
Aizawa is the first to notice the change in your attitude. He is the first to realise that you may be burning out, and he's the first to genuinely worry about you.
As your teacher, and considering the amount of security hazards your class has been subject to in the last year, Aizawa is well within his right to keep tabs on all of you and your home lives. He knows your secret.
After class ends, you're pulled aside by your teacher.
Part of you wants to cry. What is it this time? A failed test? Maybe a lecture on missed homework.
Apparently not. And judging by the look on his face, it's much more serious than a missed assignment. He looks... genuinely concerned, which is an expression you've gotten to see far too many times than you should have to. Wow, you think. The poor guy deserves a break.
"I know what you've been doing every other night, so don't bother trying to lie. I want to say that I'm proud you're taking your hero work so seriously, but don't you think you're overdoing it? Maybe even just a little? You're exhausting yourself, and pretty soon you're going to burn out. Did you even sleep last night?"
Oh, like he can talk about sleep and burnout of all things.
And really, he can. But the brewing bitterness and hostility inside of you is starting to bubble, and you can feel in the back of your throat that a breakdown is imminent. God, don't cry. Please, not now, of all times.
Shiny, salty tears start to collect at your waterline, and the tired teacher lets out a defeated sigh, placing his hand on your shoulder. It's an oddly comforting gesture, really.
"I-... I just want to help... My parents will go out with or without me- and they're not very experienced- so I just worry that if I'm not there, something will happen..."
"Look... The first part of helping is knowing how to best help yourself. Look after yourself, or you might not live long enough to see yourself become the hero you've always wanted to be... Youre a hero, not a martyr - the self sacrifice isn't necessary yet."
Wise words from a man who's seen it all.
He looks disappointed in you, at the very least, but there's a spark of pride in his eye for his tryhard students who do the best they can, and even if you don't see it yet, you will soon enough.
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beargyufairy · 4 months
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Just My Thoughts Pt. 7
Natsu’s Growth
I’ve been disappointed a few times at how Hiro Mashima writes his characters and plot. But never have I ever been as disappointed as I was when I read this panel in the 100 YQ.
For reference, Natsu made a joke about disinfecting Lucy’s burns. It was not even a funny joke. I don’t think anyone laughed. Lucy was burned after trying to calm Natsu who consumed Ignia’s flames to battle against the water dragon god. While he did succeed in the fight, he lost control of himself and was stumped by the flames.
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This is such a disappointing situation when it comes to Natsu and his development as a character. Everything he experienced in the original manga/anime is put to shame. It’s like his growth as a person disappeared into thin air. I mean come on!! Is Mashima being serious right now?! Because am I supposed to believe this is the same Natsu who wouldn’t let Gray use Ice Shell on more than one occasion?! Natsu knows the consequences of Ice Shell and refuses to let that happen to Gray no matter how dire the circumstances are. Even though Gray and Natsu would never admit it, their relationship is unique and filled with love. They may be rivals and opposite (considering the ice/fire, demon/devil slayer attributes) but their friendship has grown so much since the start of Fairy Tail. Doesn’t this show how considerate Natsu is?! How important the lives of his friends is to him?
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If that isnt enough here’s another example. When Erza was sacrificing herself in the Tower of Heaven arc, Natsu refused to let her go and eventually saved her. Erza is important to him and Fairy Tail. He wants her to live on. Doesn’t this show how much Natsu cares about everyone?! Is he making a joke about Erza?! No he isn’t.
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Okay fine those examples aren’t about Lucy right, so why does it matter?! Because Natsu would never joke about burning his friends, accident or not. And if it’s about Lucy, then most definitely not. Lucy is probably the member of Fairy Tail he cares about the most (aside from Happy). When Future Lucy died, Natsu almost went completely rogue (pun intended, if you know what I mean). He even stated that something precious was taken from him. Furthermore, when Lucy was “dead” during the Alverez arc, Natsu lost it. Literally, he became END, the demon everyone fears, the strongest creation of Zeref, the black wizard. Lucy’s life was so important to him that without it, there was nothing holding him back. He even stated that he can’t be stopped after having flashbacks about her supposed death.
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Natsu couldn’t care less about the world ending. He wanted to fight the people that made Lucy cry. That’s what he was focused on. And so after all this, Mashima wants me to believe that Natsu would joke about burning Lucy?! Yeah, I don’t think so. After everything Natsu went through, he would’ve at least felt guilty. Considering that it was Lucy of all people he burned, he would’ve apologized over and over again. Why?! Because she’s so important to him. He literally became a demon when he thought she died!! Isn’t that proof enough?! I also think that he would feel so grateful to her. This isn’t the first time Lucy helped Natsu control himself. She’s always there for him. But Natsu has never lost control like this before. Did Natsu ever properly thank Lucy for saving by rewriting the book of END?! He’s literally only alive because of her. She tampered with a demonic force and black magic yet Lucy is so damn under appreciated that it pains me!!
If the goal was to lighten the situation considering the intensity of the battle against the water dragon god and Ignia’s involvement, a joke that doesn’t make Lucy’s burn seem pathetic would’ve been better. A joke about anything else would’ve been better. Seriously, Lucy knew the consequences of trying to stop Natsu, especially when noting that she was scared of his flames for the very first time. She did anyway because she cares about Natsu and knows that she can help him, even if it means she will get burned. I would also like to note that Lucy never actually saw Natsu as END. She arrived after he gained some sense of control. Considering everything, if Hiro Mashima doesn’t make up to me by having her fear of Natsu’s flame and her lack of experience with END play into the story I’m gonna be so mad. Since he already disappointed me with how he’s treating Lucy’s injury/burn, I really hope he plays the rest of the story properly.
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I’m very disappointed in how not only Natsu’s character is being portrayed and downgraded, but also how Lucy is yet again the butt of the joke. She does so much for her team and friends but is always ignored (I’m still upset about Aquarius’ sacrifice that’s not talked about enough).
Thank you for listening.
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So, I’m still yelling about Sonic Prime season 2. It’s. So fucking good?
And not just because someone on the writing team 100% ships Sonadow because, holy crap, so much of that episode feels shippy.
So, full disclosure. Shadow is my favorite Sonic character. Ever since I saw him in Heroes I loved him. As a kid I didn’t notice the real “constantly shifting character” thing. Now, having played almost every major 3d Sonic game (I didn’t play Forces and refused to play Boom), having watched shows like Sonic X and Sonic Prime (again, I stayed away from Boom but I’ve heard it’s amazing), I think it’s obvious that he gets wildly mischaracterized.
He’s angsty, yes. I mean, he watched his child best friend/sister get shot to death in front of him when he was… five (Look, he’s simultaneously Sonic’s age, over 50, and like five- his age is an enigma), that would make anyone angsty. But he’s also genuinely caring, even if he rarely shows it.
Look no further than 06 when he accidentally releases Mephelis because he picks up Rogue to move her away, or when he intercepts Silver so Sonic can go save Elise. He’s actively saved the world three times- SA2, Shadow the Hedgehog, and 06, with him sacrificing his life in his first appearance. And let’s not forget how he genuinely seemed upset in 06 when Sonic died.
Actually, 06 is the best characterization of Shadow since his introduction. And it can basically all be summed up in his own words. “If the whole world chooses to turn against me, then I’ll fight like I always have.”
He’s brooding. He’s harsh. He’s proud and independent. But by god will he fight to the death for what is right. He cares about people, but he uses actions not words.
Now, what does this have to do with Sonic Prime? Well, this is probably the best characterization of Shadow they’ve ever done. He’s still broody and much more reserved, but everything he’s doing is selfless. He’s not beating up Sonic just because.
He’s beating up Sonic because he, rightfully in my mind, sees Sonic as a threat to his world. He isn’t trying to prevent Sonic from saving the world, he’s basically trying to put him in time out for ruining the world.
This is more than proven when he not only realizes that he can’t do something, but he also realizes that the only way to fix everything is to work together. And he actively admit that. Reluctantly, yes, but he says they need to work together.
He’s still angry and is currently furious at Sonic, but… he kind of has the right to be. Interestingly, he actually spoke to Sonic before fighting him (which, side note, was animated amazingly).
And let’s not forget his cockiness. It’s done perfectly. He’s not taking it too far like Sonic tends to do, but him being a smug little shit is great. And I think it really helps to show the dynamic he and Sonic have because he’s just. Not like that around other characters.
Without using words, they managed to show that, despite the fighting that’s happening, there’s a bond between Sonic and Shadow. One that can only be forged by fighting to save the world side by side.
I think it’s also important to mention that Shadow clearly was enjoying his fight with Sonic. Probably because it’s the most normal thing he’s experienced in forever. His friends are gone. Green Hill is gone. The chaos emerald is gone (though I have a suspicion that it’s going to come back at some point. It fell into the void for a reason and that void was shown for a reason. My bet is that they’re going to need to enter the void at some point). He’s trapped in limbo.
Fighting Sonic is a constant. One he desperately needs.
I know I’ve been rambling but for the first time in over a decade, they’ve gotten Shadow’s personality perfectly. Makes me wonder if the writers, or at least some of them, played SA2 growing up. After all… it’s been long enough since he was introduced that the target audience for SA2 when it was released would be old enough to work for the SEGA team.
It also makes me crazy excited for the third Sonic movie. I know they’re different writers, but they have hit the nail on the head with each character, and if a different show can characterize Shadow that well… maybe Sega is relaxing their iron grip on him and allowing him to actively shine.
Also that scene with Shadow falling to the void and Sonic sounding genuinely panicked was amazing. You can tell he was getting SA2 flashbacks. Someone likened the scene to Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man watching MJ fall in No Way Home and catching her when he couldn’t catch Gwen, and yeah. The emotional impact seems to be the same.
Sonic couldn’t save Shadow then, but he can save him now.
Just… go watch Prime if you haven’t. Sonic fans have been treated well these past few years and I can’t wait to see what comes next.
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leclercstarrs · 11 months
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breakdown, daryl dixon.
summary: in which you’re forced to split from your family and leave the farm with daryl after it burns down and gets infested with walkers!
warnings: reader and daryl started dating a bit before this takes place! not fully proof read yet!
notes: requested by anon! they had a really good idea, the ask post is linked here!
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You cling onto Daryl as he races down a country road, the smell of smoke from the burning house you once lived in, still lingering in the air. Your tears fall onto his jacket as you think about your family. Beth, Maggie, Hershel. You’re not sure if they’re alive or if they’re out there somewhere, split up from you. As the moment Daryl forcefully dragged you from your burning home and took you away on his motorcycle, you feel a mix of anger and sadness. The walkers destroyed everything in the farm’s path, maybe even the last of your family. You shouldn’t be mad at the hunter, he was just trying to keep you safe, but you can’t think properly, only stuck on the thought that you just abandoned everyone and everything you loved. “I can’t.” You whisper, your voice breaking, the man unable to hear you.
“Stop! Let me off!” You yell this time, practically shaking, Daryl abruptly coming to a stop, concerned on why you suddenly need to pull over. “What?” He turns his head around a bit, confusion on his face. You quickly get off the back of the motorcycle, walking a few steps ahead on the road, bringing your hands to your head in panic, tears sliding down your face as you silently sob.
“What’s wrong?” He gets off the vehicle as well, slowly walking up behind you, stopping a couple spaces before you.
“My family! They’re all gone! So is my house! I’ve lived in that house since birth!” You turn around, yelling at him, causing the man to wince. “Ya don’t know that, maybe they got away with Rick.” He tries to reason. Unfortunately it doesn’t help you out much, as you open your mouth to speak, forcing your sobs back, attempting to speak without your voice shattering. “Did you see them?!” You huff. He doesn’t respond. “Everything is gone, I have nothing! Beth is just a teenager and Maggie is practically the only person that I’m so close with during this mess!” You start, “And my father? God, I don’t-” You’re unable to finish your sentence, pausing for a moment.
“They’ve never experienced the real world, not until now, just like me, Daryl. I was lucky enough to have found you, but what if Rick and his wife didn’t find them? What if Glenn didn’t reach Maggie in time?!” You cover your mouth with your hands, holding back from breaking down even more than you already have. The man doesn’t speak, simply walking closer to you and pulling you into a tight hug from behind, slowly making you kneel down with him to relax. “Let go!” You slap his arms to get him to free you from his grip, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to hold you in his arms. “Let me go!” You start crying even more. You feel vulnerable, something you’ve never liked since you were a child. You break out if his arms when you shuffle around, still kneeling, but this time just a bit ahead of him, tucking your head in your arms and between your legs. The sound of your sobs instantly makes Daryl tense up, deciding to go back to hugging you. This time, you accept the warm embrace, not having the energy to fight with the man. “We’re going to find your family, okay? We’re going to find a new place for us to live.” He whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple.
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zaceouiswriting · 1 year
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The Master of Fulfillment
Character: Jason Todd (Wayne) x male reader, Dick Grayson (Wayne) x male reader
Universe: Somewhere in DC
Warnings: Smut, degrading, slurs, cuckolding, Master/Slave, choking
Read it with the thought that Dick and Jason aren't adopted brothers but blood brothers, which makes it all the more intense.
It was an odd sight. Jason and I come to this cafe almost every day as his work takes up most of his time, and it's right across the street from his workplace. My work is easy and gives me a lot of time. It mostly means that I'm constantly alone without my loving boyfriend. At this point, I can't even recall seeing him naked for more than five minutes or him bending me over for more than a moment.
The saddest part? I wasn't even mad about it. Because a quicky with him is really... quick. Not only is it dissatisfying, but it also makes me feel a kind of angry resentment. Since the first few months of our relationship, he hasn't taken the time to make me cum just by fucking me like he used to. He promised it would be a short thing, but three years have passed, and nothing has changed.
We've been drifting apart for a while because he just doesn't seem to care anymore. Sometimes I think he's aware of it, but then again, he doesn't change it. That's probably what annoys me the most. For a few months now, I don't even give him a quickie without rolling my eyes in annoyance. He stopped asking about it, which obviously made him unhappy as well. Yet, still no change.
I lost my sex drive a long time ago. Or I thought so. Because the strange sight, which is completely different from any other visit we have made here, makes me feel things I haven't experienced in a long time. A tight-fitting shirt, bulging arms big enough to crush my head if they want to. An obviously well-trained chest and an eight-pack under the cloth. But the most important thing besides his perfectly square face and impeccable haircut? His damn tight pants. With a nice firm butt. But the most cloth hugs, his massive bulge. It looks at least twice as big as Jason's. I could immediately feel jealousy rising in me for the person lucky enough to be the partner of this god.
I can feel my own pants tightening. I had to take my eyes off this man made of pure sex.
Logically it shouldn't be a strange sight to see a cop, not even a handsome one, at a coffee shop, but he was strangely alone. Usually, they are never alone buying coffee or something to eat for all their colleagues.
I've tried to ignore his existence, but every now and then, my eyes would wander to him, his well-built body, and whenever he shifted his stance, I would stare straight at his massive bulge. He's been there a lot longer than he should have been. But who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Just as I was thinking about it and staring at the back of his head, he suddenly turned around with a scowl plastered over his face, but as soon as our eyes met, his face strangely relaxed. But soon, his eyes wandered up and down my seated body. I could only feel like a piece of meat under his gaze. A grin appeared out of nowhere on his devilishly handsome face, showing off his perfect pearly white teeth and, in particular, two sharp upper teeth.
A bright red blush appeared on my face, so apparent that even Jason couldn't miss it. "Are you all right, babe? Are you sick?” he asked worriedly. He even went so far as to stand up, leaning slightly toward me, and to put his rough, warm hand on my forehead to take my temperature.
His loving touch made me sick. "Maybe you should go and splash some cold water in your face? It might help,” he told me softly but firmly. There's something strange in his eyes, but I can't quite put my finger on what. Somehow I feel compelled to do as he told me. But before I could leave - shortly after I got up - he pulled me in a quick, smooth movement, very close to him. He definitely could feel my hard cock on him. But he ignored it. Instead, he kissed me deeply. He even went so far as to stick his tongue in. His love is on full display.
For a second, he felt like old Jason, the high school football captain I fell in love with, so rough and domineering. But as soon as we parted, he shyly looked away. My stomach turns with disgust.
Without saying another word, I walk away from him without looking at him again. But the cop - I daydreamed so much - got a look from me. Why? I have no idea. Surprisingly, he already looks at me with hunger in his dark blue eyes and lets them run over my body again before I finally disappear into the bathroom.
I lean against the closed door, breathing heavily. Why does this man make my heart beat so fast? Why was my body sweating so much? And why can't I answer any of these questions?
For a moment, I was so lost in my own thoughts that I forgot this was an open toilet. Quickly, before someone tries to open it and maybe knocks me over, I move away from the door.
I'll go over to the sink, open the water, and splash it in my face as Jason told me to. But why am I doing what he told me? Maybe it was the tone of his voice… so demanding it felt like old Jason.
I shook my head, knowing better. He's gone soft. Too soft.
I remember Jason standing over me in the locker room after one of his team members fucked me for the first time. Jason was so jealous. He was so deliciously rough. He treated me brutally. He didn't care if I got bruises from his treatment. Once, he even gave me a black eye. I vividly remember cumming hard that night: no one else could make me cum like this.
A strange feeling on my face snapped me out of my head the second time. Glancing slightly up in the mirror, I discover a single frustrated tear. But at that moment, I realized something: I still love this soft idiot.
I need to talk to him to find out what's changed! Just as I turned around, the door to the restrooms suddenly opened, startling me a little. For a second, I think it might be Jason to fulfill a long-forgotten sexual fantasy of his. But when I could see the blue of a police officer's uniform, a certain sadness came over me. However, this feeling only lasted a second before a strange excitement came over me.
Confused as to what to do, I rush to the urinals. I quickly pull my pants open and get my cock out. Nervously I tried to pee, but nothing came out. Even though I could feel my bladder filling up out of nowhere, I couldn't let a drop out.
The intimidating footsteps of the cop only make it worse. I hope he would walk down as far as possible. Best at the other end of the room. I decided to keep my eyes closed and pray; until I could no longer hear his footsteps. Despite all this, he came to stand right next to me.
Suddenly my heart started beating faster again. Frightened, I open my eyes only to glance sideways and see the intimidating statue of this muscular mountain of a man. But his eyes were forward and closed just like mine a second ago.
He deftly undid his fly without looking and fished something out, seeming to have some difficulty with it, commenting with annoyed little noises. The depth of his voice shocked me to my core. I look up for just a moment at his sharp, masculine features. But even from the bottom corner of my eye, I could see beige skin sticking out of the front of his pants.
And when my eyes noticed whatever it was, my mouth went dry. "Fuck!" I exclaimed loudly. Involuntarily I would like to add! It was just a reaction.
Even after I could hear a deep laugh, I couldn't take my eyes off this huge hunk of meat. His cock is thicker than my wrist and even limp as long as Jason's hard cock. Jason isn't small by any measurement, but this cop's cock is on another level.
But nothing could intimidate me like the sudden powerful jet of water that this man let out, completely occluding my bladder. It's so aggressive that I know he's doing it to intimidate me even further. And it's an eternity before he finally shakes off with a deep, low, satisfied groan.
He pulls back his foreskin and waves it to get the last drops out. But even then, he didn't pack it up again. Instead, he stroked it lazily. It scared me. Not because it wasn't damn hot to see this man do something like that, but because he might notice me staring at him.
A quick glance upwards is enough to see that he is looking down at me. The hunger in his eyes is darker now. "So you're a fag?" he asks with a malicious grin. He seems to know exactly what he's doing. Because for some reason, I could feel some kind of lust tightening in my stomach or wherever.
He boldly steps back from the urinal and holds his semi-hard cock in his massive hand, which would take him at least two more to completely enclose his cock. My eyes widened at the realization that this man wants me, not only wants me but might even want to destroy me, considering his... question.
“I-I-“
"Don't be shy," he mused. He comes closer with his feet straight and pushes me further back. "Touch it," he commanded me. Although his voice sounded sweet, I could feel the pressure of authority pressing on me.
Before I know it, I hold out my shaking hand. Soon I'm touching the fat cock head and feeling a wetness on it. The urge to try it rose in me. But I couldn't! I have a boyfriend! That thought, thankfully, brings me back to my senses. I quickly try to withdraw my hand. But before I can do that, something inside me stops my movements for some reason. I look up anxiously and look the officer straight in the eyes. He angrily stares down at me.
"I see you want more, don't you? Greedy little fagot!” His dark, murderous eyes are now paired with an equally sinister laugh that startles me so much I stumble backward. I almost fall to my knees from sheer weakness. "Get on your knees!" he suddenly orders me.
“Wha-“
"I'm not repeating myself!" he growled right in my face.
"I-I can't! I ha-have a boy-boyfriend!” My teeth are chattering from fear.
All he does is mock me. "You mean that guy out there? The one you flinched from when he touched you? Can't he satisfy a whore like you? Is he that pathetic?”
A sudden surge of caution washes over me. Finally free of this moment, I pull my hand away, even though I mentally curse myself for it. "It's not like-"
"You already cheated on him just because I took out my obviously bigger cock. It's only a matter of time how long it will be before you're begging to take it up your little bitch hole!"
He grins down at me so arrogantly that I immediately believe he is the case and then some. I don't seem to be his first victim of lust. That much is clear. But if you look like him, are built like him, and have a cock like him? Who can blame him for using it to his advantage? I would do the same if I were in his place.
A thick, awkward silence falls over us for a long moment. He just stares, seemingly trying to understand me. But then his face suddenly twists into pure disappointment. Tightened, he clicked his tongue dismissively. Right before me, he tucks his monster cock back into his pants and pulls up his fly. He gives me one last dissatisfied look before turning around.
Suddenly a pang of disappointment comes over me. But why? Is it because a man like him wants me? Do I want to please him? Do I want to please him more than being faithful to my loving boyfriend?
Everything goes so fast, and all these thoughts shoot through my head within seconds of him turning around. He only took two heavy steps, and it is impossible not to miss him. Even his footsteps showed a tremendous amount of authority. They are so powerful that I wish he would step on me.
At that moment, my mouth opens: "Stop!" I call after him, out of breath. For a moment, I did not realize that I'd said anything.
Before I know it, my back hits a wall so hard it takes my breath away. It was hard to focus again. But when I finally managed to come back, a broken moan escaped my lips. A massive hand gripped my throat and cut off my windpipe. But I don't care. After all, it's this man. His eyes were even darker than before.
His mouth opens, and he even says something, but the only thing I can focus on is his hand which I wish would beat me red and blue. I've never seen so many veins in a hand or forearm as he does.
From one moment to the next, my ears start ringing as my head flies to the side. For a second, I feel like a star hit me - literally.
"Are you back, bitch?" he asks smugly. He seems to know that everything about him makes me lose focus.
As pathetic as I am right now, I try to talk, but all that comes out is a choked sound. At that moment, I realize that his hand is still around my neck. So I nod submissively.
"Good," he says, still as smug as before, "because now you're going to listen to me carefully, understood?" Again I nod. "We don't have time for all the fun, so I'm going to turn you around, get you ready for a moment, and then fuck you stupid, got it?"
Unable to do anything else, knowing I'll do anything to feel his hand on me and not wanting to disappoint him again, I nod. Still grinning, he takes his hand from my throat. Instead, he cups my chin between his thumb and index finger. Carefully, gently he slaps my face. 
"Good boy," he whispers huskily in my ear.
Never in my life has my cock become as hard as it is at this moment. I squirm under his intense gaze. His callous hands trail down to my chest. So out of fear, I close my eyes, enjoying his full attention, only to be carelessly grabbed and thrown around. I soon find my face crushed against the disgusting white tiles of the bathroom.
He presses close to my back. I can feel his hardening cock poking against it. This man is just too big... in all regards. But he doesn't let that bother him. Instead, he uses the big body size difference to masturbate with my lower back.
His head is so close and yet, so far away that he has to bend down to let his breath tickle the hairs on the back of my neck and the fine hairs on my ears. For a second, I think he's going to kiss me. His lips are this close to my skin. "Are you clean?" he asks suddenly.
Confused by this question, I try to turn my head to look askance at him. Before I can do that, though, he pushes my head back to where he wants it. I fearfully gasp for air. "Yes," I answer him. Hoping he means if I'm healthy.
An intrusive feeling snaps me out of my thoughts as I feel a long finger poking through the crack in my ass. My eyes shoot down in shock. My pants are on the floor, around my ankles. How did he do that? I neither felt nor heard anything. I didn't even feel the cold breeze around my bare legs like I do now!
"And your hole, bitch?" His breathing gets ragged, hopefully with excitement, as mine does.
It feels so personal, too much, if I'm being honest. On the other hand, I'm standing in front of him half-naked, ready to take anything he wants to give me, just like the slut he thinks I am. And I can't even blame him for that. Then that's precisely how I'm behaving in this moment.
"I-I never ga-gave up my special diet," I choke out as his finger circles my tight hole. I realize how much I need a real man to touch me there and use my hole like it's his.
"Hmm..." he hummed contentedly. "What a good boy you are," he muses again, the smug grin evident in his voice.
As he calls me that again, my resolve shatters. My knees give out. Before I can move too much, though, his hands are on my waist. "Don't worry, I've got you," he murmured, "you're not the first whore to go weak in the knees. Although it usually doesn't happen until they find out how long my tongue is."
I'm gasping for air, confused as to what he could mean. But suddenly, his head is gone. Even more confused, I gather all my strength and press my hands against the wall to get my head off it. I can barely move my head, but my eyes immediately take in what is happening. This god of a man crouches behind me, his head level with my butt.
"Nice ass, I'll give you that," he says absently. With his hands, he kneads my perfectly round ass cheeks. A slap ripped a big moan out of my throat. "A perfect jiggle." At this point, he's just mumbling. He smacks my ass a few more times, though.
Until his voice suddenly gets even lower, with which he says a single word after a particularly hard slap on my ass: "Fuck".
Both together lead me to the most humiliating experience that I have ever happened to me in my entire life. With no warning or ability to stop it, I groan loudly.
It would certainly have been less humiliating if it hadn't snapped the cop out of his horny trance.
"Are you really that needy, bitch? Well, then maybe we should start?” 
Of course, that's not a question because only a second later, I feel his wet tongue on my hole. It's not hard for the tip to break through, considering his fingers have already made me pretty loose.
But he quickly pulls out the tip of his tongue just to lick my hole up and down, teasing it with the tip only to give it a big lick again. Honestly, he has driven me crazy within seconds. With my arms flat against the wall and my head banging against it, I let him do as he pleases.
He pays more attention to my needs than Jason has in years. For years he just fucks me until he's done and then leaves. But this cop? A man I've never met before - I might add - really knows what he's doing, like a pro.
I should soon find out what he meant by the comment about his long tongue because everything in his regard seems to be... extraordinary. I even believe that his tongue alone could get into my stomach. Of course, it can't. But he reaches in extremely far and covers my insides with his spit. He even goes as far as to spit deep inside me once or twice. Preparing me to take his monster cock without lube.
The once cool tiles no longer comfort me. The officer's hot, wet tongue gives me pleasure like no one has before. Not even Bryan, who before the officer was the best fucker I've ever had. And the officer still has to give me what I really want. What I desire, since I have noticed him.
But apparently, he won't give it to me without a fight. Because all he does is please me with his powerful tongue.
Soon, however, even the thoughts that, not so long ago, fill me with fear and disappointment in myself for giving myself to another man and the desire to please him.
All I can do now is fixate on the tongue deep in my greedy hole. The bumps on his tongue massaged my sensitive insides. But what really gets me going is the flexibility of his tongue. Suddenly, he rolls his tongue and uses it like an icebreaker to penetrate me even deeper.
For a second, my mind is blank. When I come to, I'm lying flat against the wall, a hand behind my back holding me tighter against it while an arm around my knees keeps me upright. I can feel the arrogant smirk on my butt, but at this point, I know he's right. I might not like it, but he's a sex god who can turn even something as simple as a rim job into a feast of pleasure.
The tingling sensation of his tongue going deep into areas previously reserved for cocks is just too nice. His tongue is obscene, as are the moans he can filter out of me. I'm already on cloud nine… no, wait, cloud eleven. He gets me high just through my lust.
My brain is so slow I don't feel his tongue leave my hole and gape like a fish out of water. It even takes a moment before he realizes he's spitting in, only to have his long fingers push it in deeper. And it takes even longer before I realize he's talking to me.
I slowly take in his words and somehow find the strength to turn my head slightly. I look at him with blurred eyes, the area around his lips shows a slight reddishness, but it's almost imperceptible.
"I don't think I can do it," I murmur almost silently.
"But a really good boy would do that for his man."
“You aren-“
"Do I have to punish you?" His voice suddenly drops again, and his eyes, which gleam with lust, are filled with anger and disappointment.
With new tears forming in my eyes, I shake my head. It puts back a smug smile on his full lips. "Good," he says before he takes my hand and puts it on his crotch.
Why he wants me to undo his fly again is beyond me, and with my shaking hand, it's no easy task anyway. It takes a while before I can even get my hands on it and even longer before I can open it. But the man doesn't care. He's patiently waiting for me to obey his commands like I'm his whore.
He still helps my hand reach into his pants and leans forward again before I can pull him out. So I can only jerk him off a little over his underwear. "I've never seen a fag like you, who is more like a whore than a regular fag and is falling apart so damn easily. You haven't even tasted my...dick." The last word lingered for a while, seductively.
One moment he's praising me, and the next, he's demeaning me, but unfortunately, both kind of turn me on. I've never bothered with either of them before have only done them to my partners, but now with him? With this man? I want to hear it from him, over and over again, both. Maybe it's his soothing, authoritative voice or his body and what he represents.
“I-I-“
"Try not to think too much," he says, still smugly. "I'm going to fuck you now whether you like it... or not. You asked me to do it, so I'll do it, and if I like your sweet little hole, I might make it mine."
A thousand things go through my mind, but mostly Jason, my faithful, loving boyfriend, who's still at the cafe...alone...waiting for me, and I'm here, with another man, no. .. a real man, someone who can give me what I need. "I can-"
Just as I begin to speak, a sudden pressure is applied to my not yet opened wide enough hole. The pain races through my body, but my mind is too busy to react immediately. On the other hand, the man behind me is more than ready. Before I know it, a hand blocks my mouth, and another arm pulls both of my hands behind my back and holds them there, just to be safe, I suppose.
"Now be a good little boy and scream!"
Without a second thought, the officer rammed into me. It overwhelms me. It feels like he's splitting me in half. While at the same time not giving me much time to understand what he's doing. Then, just a moment after ramming as much as he could into me, he pulled back completely. Every sound I want to make gets stuck in my throat. I just couldn't get it out.
I can feel an intense gaze on the back of my head. With his head far away from mine, his deep voice suddenly roared, "I told you to yell for me, you stupid fag!" After saying this, the officer, annoyed at my uncooperative, aims and rams his massive dick back into my hole.
Finally, muffled screams echo through the room, and tears run down the officer's rough, large hand. Almost as soon as those painful screams come from me, I hear a loud moan of satisfaction behind me.
"You're a lot tighter than I thought...Your boyfriend is even more pathetic than I thought...Shit, so fucking tight!"
Even though he's using me like a fucking toy and doesn't seem to care how much pain he's causing me, I admit it's exactly what I need. I might not be able to walk for a few days and perhaps even bleed because the cop suddenly opens my tight hole so wide. But I already know I'll be needing something like this more often. I would prefer it if he never pulled his cock out again.
I'm so far gone after he pushes himself back inside me that my screams soon become bubbling noises.
Almost as if he's waiting for something like this to happen, he removes his hand from my mouth without breaking his rhythmic movements. "Did you try to say something?" he asks smugly. His breathing is even as if this is something normal to him. Remembering his massive, muscular physique and thinking that he's not just a gym rat but an athlete through and through gives me my answer to my unasked question. Somehow it made this situation even more erotic.
"Roem, a ened erom," I tell him. Everything is right in my head, and I tell him I need more. But when I hear my own words, I am deeply embarrassed.
He chuckles darkly, knowing as well as I do that he's already broken me after just a few moments of him fucking me. Suddenly, a strange, unfamiliar glow appears in his eyes. Just as it appears, he forcibly turns my head and pulls it back, arching my back. As he smiles down at me, terror courses through my veins. Whatever's going on in his head, it can't be good.
Suddenly something wet hits my face. Barely able to open one of my eyes, I see that his smile has grown, and a string of spit is hanging out of his mouth. Shocked and disgusted, all I could do was gape at him.
But he seems to take this as an invitation, so he quickly slaps his hand on my cheek and massages his spit into my skin, two fingers even wiping a bit into my mouth.
Unable to comprehend what is happening, I close my mouth around his fingers and lick them like an obedient whore.
“Fuck!“
His hand on my face suddenly pushes my head down while his other arm pulls me back. Thinking he wants to bend me over and press me against the wall, I move as much as possible to help him with my aching body.
But to my utmost shock, he goes even further. Instead of against the wall, he presses my head close to the bottom of the toilet, into which he has just urinated without flushing. I can smell the strong smell. He almost pushed me in. But I can barely get my hands on the toilet to prevent that.
I choke on the disgusting stench and almost throw up. The officer keeps me there even after hearing about it. "You'd do anything to get that cock back, wouldn't you?" he asks menacingly. Even without hearing anything else, I'm split: on the one hand, I would do anything to feel him again. On the other hand, I have my own pride. And I don't like that shit.
So I gather all my strength to draw a line. I cling to the toilet with an effort, undeterred by his powerful attempts to push me back down.
It takes a while, but once I move away from that smell, I grab onto the top of the toilet and turn my head. "Fuck you!" I tell him in a moment of clarity.
"Feisty." He's not even confused by my sudden action, which confuses me more than anything else. "I like it. A tight fucking hole, handsome, and not easy to bend." After that, there's a long pause, but I can see he's about to say something else. "Then come here and see how much punishment you can endure!"
It's the only form of warning before he pulls me flat against his massive chest, lifts me in the air, grabs me in odd places, and twists me with his monster cock inside me. When I finally get a close look at him, he's pinning us against the wall, with both of my legs resting on his left shoulder because of my pants binding them together and staring down into my eyes.
Not long after, I realize that his warning is no idle threat. He starts pounding me like a beast without breaking eye contact. Even though he's the most handsome man I've ever seen, I didn't feel like kissing him like Jason... Jason does. Shit, I'm cheating on my loving boyfriend.
When the man sees something is wrong, he pushes me harder against the wall. "Don't think about that loser. I'm fucking you, not him! Remember this!"
With that, he goes all in and even starts to sweat a bit. But that doesn't last long as all the pressure of the moment finally takes hold of me. My sensitive cock starts moving, and the officer has to hit me only one more time to make me cum again. This time, however, I scream Jason's name loudly.
But deep anger comes over him when he hears Jason's name slip from my lips. He starts to brutally fuck my hole, which makes my head go blank.
When I come to, the officer slumps on top of me, my hole drenched with his cum.
"You c-came inside me?" I ask him, my fear evident in my voice.
"Of course," he says smugly, "your hole is mine now!"
As if to make his point even clearer, he quickly pulls himself out of my sore hole, sets me down on the floor, and kicks me in the back of my knees, causing me to fall on top of her. I look up at him in confusion in my delirium. Before I could ask what he's doing, he opened my mouth slightly with his thumb. Still confused, I just let him do what he wants. But as the saying goes, if you give some people a hand, they take your entire arm.
Before I know it, he's cramming his first five or six inches down my throat, not without my teeth scraping his skin because of the surprise.
Thankfully, when I look up at him in shock, he doesn't look unhappy. More smug than anything. "Yeaaaah...uhh...oh damn! This hole is mine too!” he says firmly, not caring if I want it... or not. He simply decides for me.
At this point, I don't want to mention Jason anymore or think of him for fear of being punished again. "Clean that damn cock up, fagot!" He grins down at me. It makes me weak enough to see past what he just did. So push him back slightly to get a little control. With both hands, I lightly jerk his semi-hard cock, sucking his cock head clean and licking the rest of his monster clean as well.
When I look up again after cleaning him fully and dropping his cock, I see a happy glow in his eyes.
“Put it back in!“ 
Without further inquiry, I did as I was told, taking his now limp cock - still massive - and shoving it back into his pants, pulling his underwear over them, and pulling his fly back up. I place my hands on his large thighs for a second longer to catch my breath.
As I breathe, one of his large hands caresses me almost lovingly. His smugness is now completely gone. "Don't cry. Isn't it as bad as you might think," he told me cryptically. "Open your mouth."
This time I'm more reserved and only stare at him. He quickly realizes I won't do what he told me to do. He rolled his eyes, grabbed the back of my head, and pulled my hair. For a second, it hurt so bad that I opened my mouth involuntarily. He quickly stuck two fingers in and put something in my mouth.
I try to bite him, but he pulls his fingers out fast enough. As I glare at him, his smug smile is back. "Don't worry," he waved dismissively, "It's just a peppermint." Still, after telling me that, he gets dangerously close to me again. His smug grin turns predatory again. "You don't want your useless little friend smelling a real man on your breath, do you?"
His words hit all the right spots. He knows my guilt and bathes in it like a psychopath.
I push myself away from him, and instead, I crash into the tiled wall, not hard enough to hurt myself, but my dignity was injured nonetheless.
"Next time, I don't want to feel teeth on my cock, got it... bitch?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before going to the sink, washing his hands, and exiting the toilet without a backward glance.
He left me here...alone, with my face in my hands. Finally, the realization of what I've done comes into its own. How could I do that? Jason loves me, and I-I love him too. This will destroy him!
Though sadness overwhelms me, I somehow stand up. To do this, though, I put my hands on the side of the urinal to use as leverage, as my legs were more jelly than anything. Standing isn't any better, my whole back hurts like hell, and my ass is on fire. Somehow, however, I manage to get back to the sink.
When I see my reflection in the mirror, I'm not shocked to see myself completely disheveled. After all, my whole body just got destroyed by this arrogant fucking cop so annoyingly smug... I want to... fucking punch him in the face!
As my anger mounts, I realize it's my fault. A desperate sigh escapes my lips. I activated the water, splashed more water on my face, and cleaned up as best I could in a cafe toilet.
I could remove almost all the accumulated visible sweat and even save my hair to a certain extent. Only the redness on my face and slightly swollen eyes still told me something had happened.
I wait another minute, just hoping I don't seem too suspicious. When I'm happy enough with how I look, I walk to the toilet door and open it with a trembling hand to confront the man I love and just betrayed.
Extra:
Jason is happily sitting at our table while doing something on his phone. When I walk towards him or limp, he thankfully doesn't sense my presence until I've reached him and already sat down again.
"Are you all right again?"
Why is he ignoring my obviously different appearance? I look all messed up, and he doesn't react at all! Somehow it makes me angry. Is he even looking at me?
Suddenly he focuses on one point. As my gaze wanders to this point, terror fills my veins; A fucking semen stain, already crusted. But Jason just pulls out a tissue, looks around, and pulls my shirt up slightly to carefully clean my stomach. I can only sit there in horror.
“I-I can ex-explain I-„
Jason gives me a bright smile and just shakes his head. Which immediately silences me.
I can only wait until he's ready to talk and embarrassedly enjoy the attention he's giving me. I haven't felt this good in years! Even if the overshadowing feelings of guilt are getting stronger.
Even after he let my shirt drop, he's still smiling.
“I really need to tell-“
"Jason!" a sudden voice calls out to my boyfriend. One that I know only too well because a few minutes ago, the voice humiliated me and, at the same time, made me feel like a worthy sexual partner.
As I feel the blood drain from my face, I can only watch in horror as the same cop comes to our table, ruffles Jason's hair like he's done it a million times, and sits beside me, putting his arm too close for comfort.
He grins at me, making it painfully clear that something has happened between us.
"How do you know each other?"
With his still smug smirk, the cop switched between Jason and me before focusing on my boyfriend. "He's my little brother. I still can't believe he never told you about me. After all, we hang out together all the time!”
As soon as the words that his dirty mouth uttered registered in my brain, I almost fainted.
“Bro-Brother?“ I ask both men for clarification.
“Yeah,“ Jason admitted in a lowered voice.
Again the cop looks back and forth between Jason and me and can obviously sense the awkward atmosphere around us increasing as best I can feel it.
"Well, nice to finally meet the 'perfect guy' as Jason always flaunts you to me. But I have to go,” he tells us loudly, only for him to lean against me. "Remember, I like you tight," he whispers in my ear while his hand presses softly against my throat again.
But the moment breaks just as quickly as it has come. Jason's brother gets up and walks away, leaving me speechless.
"We can talk about this in the car," Jason says suddenly.
Tears well up in my eyes in a whirlwind of emotions. I don't want to let them fall in public, so I plainly nod. Oddly enough, Jason takes my hand and lovingly draws circles on the back.
But I'm far gone in my head. I now fully realize the gravity of what I've done. Maybe he could have forgiven me for cheating on him if it was some random guy, but his brother?
With a heavy stomach - that almost makes me throw up at our favorite coffee shop - Jason leads me straight to his car. He carefully helps me into the passenger seat and brushes a few strands of hair out of my face. Out of nowhere, he plants a nice, long kiss on my forehead.
I know, Jason! He's not so stupid that he didn't recognize the situation. So why is he still so loving?
It doesn't look like I'll be getting an answer to my silent question any time soon. Because as he gets into the car, he starts it and drives off. I have never experienced such silence, heavy and suffocating.
“I met Bryan again over two years ago.“
When he suddenly starts speaking, I jump a little. Maybe even a high-pitched squeak came out of my throat.
Jason doesn't even give me a sideways glance. He just starts talking again. "By that point, I could already sense that you were no longer sexually happy with me. I asked him if we could have a beer in the evening, and when we met, I asked him how he could keep you happy for so long. He was uncomfortable talking about it because he is actually married now after getting his girlfriend pregnant. But I got it out of him, and...let's just say it wasn't what I wanted to hear."
If someone had told me that my first ex could tear my whole world apart, even if we parted on good terms or as I thought it was on good terms, I wouldn't have believed it. But here I am, fighting against the only guy stupid enough to tell anyone's boyfriend stuff like that.
I gently place my hand on Jason's leg and try to get him to look at me so I can explain, but he doesn't react.
"I always thought I could be the guy you want and need. Maybe I'm the guy you want but not the guy you need. I felt insecure before speaking to Bryan because our sex life had already dwindled, but from what he told me, I felt... inadequate. And how could I not? His cock is huge... he showed me a picture. But the worst? That he could be something I can never be. A master."
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Jason and I, of course, talked about our preferences. But I never mentioned my greatest. Yes, in the beginning, Jason was a dominant male, but around the same time, I realized it was just a facade. But I was willing to do anything to be happy with him.
“But Jason, I love you and what I did is not-“
"For once in your life, can you shut up?" He yells, gazing into my eyes angrily. I wanted to say something, and he could see that. "I set you up!"
“W-What?“
"I set you up with my brother," he finally admits. "He stopped by two weeks ago when you weren't there. I've been thinking about breaking up with you to give you a chance to find someone you need. All my ex-boyfriends have cheated on me with my brother at some point. He always told me beforehand. But this time? After he reminded me of the love you and I share? I-I asked him to be the one to give you what you need.”
"I don't understand." I'm breathless. I couldn't breathe! What's wrong with me?"
Jason doesn't seem to be doing any better, however. "I asked him to wear the most tight-fitting uniform he has, knowing he would draw your attention. Afterward, he told me that if we both had healthy sex lives, you would never have considered his advances. But he could tell you were starving for brutal sex.” 
It must be difficult for him to admit his deepest worries. Because now I'm just someone who chose his brother over him.
“He's actually in to make this into something regular. And I have already agreed.”
"W-What? Don't I have a say in that too?” I ask him perplexed.
"I'm your boyfriend! That is never going to change! But I can't dominate you as much as you need to. It's the other way around... actually. I want you..."
His last words hang in the air like a lifeline. Yet I cannot really comprehend what he is revealing. A plot to cheat on him, but not to cheat him, but what for? Strengthen our relationship? Or getting me also into a relationship with his brother?
“What does all of this mean, Jason?“
He took a deep breath and took my hand into his again. He looks straight into my confused eyes. "My brother will be your only lover. And I want you to be dominant in bed with me."
I'm stunned, and it will probably take me a moment to really understand what he's saying. This is why we continue driving in silence until we arrive in the underground car park of our apartment building and come to a stop. Where everything suddenly hits me like a rock.
“Jason?“
“Yes, my love?“
“Are you a cuckold?“
It seems I hit the hammer on the head because his frozen reaction, unable to meet my gaze, speaks volumes.
"So you want to watch me get utterly destroyed by your own brother?" The question hangs heavily in the air.
“I-I don’t-I-“
"It sounds really... hot. I can imagine him fucking me silly while you stare at me with jealousy, and my face is contorted with ecstasy... I can imagine us doing that.”
I must have shocked Jason to the core because he fell silent. But he still holds my hand tightly in his. However, that didn't stand with me. I aggressively pull my hand out, stunning him even more.
Without saying a word, I get out of the car, walk around it and yank open his car door. He looks at me so perplexed that I want to cuddle with him and apologize.
“Get out!“ I order him.
He looks at me with wide eyes, a kind of pleasure in them, still trying to understand what I'm doing.
"Eyes down and follow me. You don't touch or look at me, understand?” Jason nods submissively. Grinning, I cup his face in my hands and give him a small kiss on his lips. Only to slap him in the face the next second with a cold expression on his face. He shudders under my gaze and quickly lowers his eyes.
I have a sinking feeling that this agreement will not go as planned. But for now, I'll try to make Jason happy.
[Masterlist]
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clovermunson · 5 months
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morgan, my sweet!! bringin’ on the heartbreak has caught my eye, and i’d love to hear your best fluffy finnick headcanons. what would it be like to spend new years with him? would he love it or hate it?
savvy, my love!! i’m so happy you requested finnick headcanons, because you know better than anyone that i could talk about this man for hours on end and never get tired. he’s got me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. but you’ve asked for fluffy headcanons, so i’m gonna deliver. some of these are just general headcanons, some are x reader, so there’s some variety here, folks.
i’ve included them all under the cut, because it’s quite a bit.
join the party!
— so first off, i think that finnick prefers to stay in on new year’s. he loves the new year because to him that means new opportunities and a renewed sense of hope. he just doesn’t care much for parties, huge crowds, and obnoxiously loud music. not to mention, the capitol really ruined him when it came to those kinda things (i’m sorry that got a little sad). but he much prefers a quiet night in, enjoying your company and most definitely eating all of the leftover holiday sweets so they won’t “go to waste”
— speaking of eating all the sweets, he never passes up the chance to help out with baking. sure it’s a chore to keep him from eating everything before it’s finished, but he does his fair share. he’s just a got a sweet tooth, he can’t help it. “don’t you think i deserve a treat for helping?” he’ll ask as he’s already taking a bite from a cupcake before you even get the chance to answer. and he’s right, he does deserve it.
— finnick can cook at least decently. if there’s a night where you don’t feel like making dinner, he’ll cook and he won’t complain about it at all. but you better believe he’s treating it like he’s a world-class chef and he’s asking you to taste test everything (because let’s be honest, he’s not the best, but he’s trying)
— finnick is a cuddly sleeper. this is just a known fact. if he’s having a particularly rough night because of the nightmares, he’ll nuzzle closer to you and hold you just a little tighter.
— he loves loves looooves having his hair played with. it’s calming to him, and just puts him in a relaxed trance that eventually ends up lulling him into sleep.
— finnick odair is tough. as tough as they come, really. he has experienced incomprehensible horrors and he’s strong and well-built, but he’s the softest, most gentle man to ever live. a big 'ol softie. a total teddy bear, some might say.
— of course i think it goes without saying, but he’s a romantic. so much to the point that it would be nauseating from an outsider’s perspective.
— anyway. i also think it’s a given that he’s scarily protective over his loved ones. which is a little shocking, considering his general calm and pleasant demeanor.
— he’s the most unserious person ever. sure he knows when to be serious, but does he want to always be that way? no, because that’s boring. this man giggled over his own “death”, i mean c’mon.
— this man cannot keep himself away from water. any chance he has, he’s in the ocean because it’s comforting to him to be one with the water.
— he’s the most considerate person ever. he’s always thinking about what his loved ones would think about any given situation, and he’s always finding ways to make things easier for them if he can.
— his primary love language is words of affirmation, because despite projecting such a confident exterior, he’s riddled with insecurities and hearing that he’s more than enough or any receiving any praises in general makes him feel like he’s genuinely loved. but it’s closely followed by physical touch, because he’s also a very touchy person when it comes to who he loves, and he gives the best hugs because of it. what i wouldn’t give to hug this man, my fucking god.
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randomnumbers751650 · 5 months
Text
I finally have time to talk about Lone Trail. I will be focusing on its depiction of science, technology and its progress. Will get a bit political, but funnily enough less than I imagined.
The thing that called my attention most in Lone Trail were the discussions on the nature of scientific progress. This is a theme that’s dear to me and the stuff I research about. It’s easy to think of scientific progress like an inevitable march forward, like an escalator. After all, we are much richer than we were before, right? Go to OurWorldInData dot org to play around with economic statistics in time – make sure to check the World GDP chart, from year 0 to 2000 and see it taking off like a rocket from year 1700.
What kind of Uncle Ted fan or neoluddite would go against that? Haha…hah…
Truth is that, although its effects are there, it’s not a clear if this is the little, neat process techbros want us to believe. It’s new and produces more, therefore it’s good, right? I could be writing this as a new wave of AI-generated NFTs pollute my algorithm.
That’s what makes the storytelling in Arknights so effective: it mashes together fantasy and sci-fi to really tell stories on the role of beliefs, technology, science and religion. The Rhine Lab saga is definitely an exploration of technology, with focus on the equivalent of the United States. During the period before the First World War, 1870-1913 (which is the one that Arknights draws most from), the world underwent through the so-called Second Industrial Revolution and I’ve read economic historians considering it the most innovative period in human history. I mean, obviously, there is an absolute number of inventions in our current age, but in relative terms 1870-1913 experienced a much larger number relative to the previous one.
The escalator narrative constructs scientific achievements as work of daring people (mostly men, but there were women like Marie Cuire), that combined science and technology to help mankind, like Prometheus giving mankind fire from the gods (in fact, one of these books is even named “Prometheus Unbound”); more than often they have to fight against the establishment. Remember Ignaz von Semmelweis? He just wanted doctors to wash their hands. Even I learned this standard narrative in the university. But that’s not the entire story.
The positivistic paradigm – of a science free of value judgements, made with the power of math – has actually helped build this escalator narrative. In reality, some scientists and scholars are horrible people. Later, I learned that Semmelweis, as much as he campaigned for the right thing, was a very arrogant person, who abused everyone around him, to the point few people went to his funeral.
Narratives focusing on one single hero are easy to sell and the ones building them are always on the lookout. Remember how ten years ago, a lot of people tried to push the narrative Elon Musk was going to create a new industrial revolution? Nowadays he’s just an arrogant loser who keeps dragging on his midlife crisis. The 1880s also had similar people like that, such as Thomas Edison.
Kristen Wright is definitely better than them both, because she is actually an engineering genius. But she’s also just like them, in the sense of unethical experiments, collusion with the military-industrial complex and being an overall superficially charismatic, but rotten to the core person. And she’s surrounded by a lot of people like Parvis and Ferdinand.
Breaking this line of reason, I have to say how much I hate Nietzsche’s ubermensch and master-slave morality, I hate Great Men theory, I hate Ayn Rand; these people are sheep who think themselves wolves. And before you say that Nietzsche didn’t consider himself an ubermensch, well, neither did Parvis and his reasoning was the same. For every person fancying themselves ubermensch, there’s a lot of those whom he’d call untermensch to clean up their messes. You have no idea of how times I stumbled upon people (especially libertarians) that advocate lower barriers to regulations that were written in blood, so that progress can happen quicker. Creative destruction works, as long as some people get “creative” and others clean the “destruction”. Deaths and injuries? Acceptable, just give them a pension (but fight tooth and nail in the court to not do it beyond the barest of the bare minimum, because it’ll lower the shareholder profit in 0.01%). Increase in inequality? Nobody will care in a few years, it’ll make everything cheaper anyway (look up Baumol’s cost disease to see how wrong that statement is, without being incorrect). I’m not exaggerating, sometimes the people saying that don’t even bother lacing it in politically correct language.
Because Lone Trail showed it “worked” – Kristen Wright broke off the ceiling over Terra and that will have consequences (especially with Endfield coming closer). The data from her experiments will advance science, the sight of a broken ceiling will inspire artists and prompt politicians to act. Was it worth it? Well, it will depend on who you ask (like, Ifrit or Rosmontis would have strong feelings), but it’s just there now. Serious history isn’t kind on this question as well – many technologies have a lot of transgressions, both legal and ethical, in their supply chain (both the American and Soviet space program come to my mind – guess who helped them); the difference between an entrepreneur and a criminal are contextual, because both are finding new opportunities of profit and both interlock frequently.
In the end, anyone can put an equation that has its uses, not mattering if it’s a good person or not. But that is no excuse to find good ethical practices. Silence saw everything with her own eyes and I’m really glad she’s leading the initiative for a more ethical science in Columbia – especially because people who are willing to break moral rules tend also to be willing to break research rules (this is why the “research” made in concentration camps is actually useless, it didn’t respect experimental rules). So I’m really glad for the Arknights writers for understanding these nuances and communicating them to the audience through one of the best stories of the game.
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lovepersevering13 · 5 months
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Now could you elaborate on Michael's autism
Alright it’s Michael’s turn!
I want to preface this part the same as before: I’m not a psychiatrist, this isn’t how autism is experienced by everyone and let me know if anything is incorrect :) oh also I’m a little bit more educated on how Autism is shown in girls so this one is a bit of a mess.
Ok so for Michael I kinda had to think for a bit about some like concrete evidence because I didn’t have anything annotated for him like Tori but I think I’ve come up with a pretty compelling argument (also I thought I’d let you know that as I was doing this I started to realise Michael may have ADHD but I don’t really go into that too much).
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Firstly:
Alice Oseman herself supports this headcanon so…. Anhahahahajaja omg I can’t explain how happy this makes me! Anyway, let’s get into what I found in Solitaire!
1. Masking
- “Do you get angry a lot?” I say.
“I’m always angry,” he says.” Solitaire, Page 213
Ok we know Michael generally is a very upbeat, positive person on the outside but as we get to know him we learn he’s only barely happier than Tori. When I think about this covering up of his anger with overly positive emotions it is clear to that he is masking (Suppressing Autistic traits). Pessimism is a common m trait of Autism and the way I see it, Michael is overcompensating for this by acting super happy all the time to cover it up.
2. Deficit in social understanding
- “Do you remember when he tried to get everyone to do a flash mob for the Year 11 prank?” says Nick. “And in the end he just did it by himself on the lunch tables?” Nick Nelson, Solitaire, Page 39.
This quote when Nick and Charlie are talking about Michael shows and extreme lack of care about social consequences.
- “Michael Holden has swooped into the restaurant.” Solitaire, page 46
Ok so this quote and the entire scene on pages 46/47 where Michael shows up unannounced because he wants to ask Tori something displays extreme impulsivity and impulsivity is a common Autistic trait. He also didn’t care about the lack of social etiquette displayed by crashing a hangout he wasn’t invited to.
- “Michael is helping himself to our leftover starters” Solitaire, Page 48
Again, lack of social awareness because you aren’t really supposed to crash someone else’s dinner and just start eating their food.
- “He races inside and, without bothering to let me leave or shut the door, he lifts the toilet seat and starts to pee.” Solitaire, (I forgot the page)
LACK OF SOCIAL ETTIQUITE. DUDE.
- “He’s the strangest person I’ve ever met.” Solitaire, Page 62
- “I know Nick and I said he’s weird - and he is weird -“ Charlie Spring, Solitaire, Page 177
- “He looks sort of out of place everywhere.” Solitaire, (I lost the page)
People with Autism are often described as being “strange,” “weird,” or “peculiar,” because they are different from their peers which can make them stand out and struggle to fit in.
- “I, er, didn’t get on too well with the people there. Not the teachers, not the students…” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 148
Because of the fact that people with Autism struggle with social understanding it can be very difficult to make friends and get along with other people.
- “I’ve never been good enough,” he says. “I get so stressed out, I don’t make friends - God, I can’t make friends.” His eyes glaze over. “Sometimes I just wish I were a normal human being. But I can’t. I’m not. No matter how hard I try.” Michael Holden, Solitiare, Page 376
Yeah, this quote hurts my heart. So many people with Autism feel as though they don’t fit in and that they aren’t normal. When you don’t have a diagnosis it can be especially difficult because you don’t know why. You know there’s something different about you, you know other people are doing and feeling things you aren’t and you know you’re doing and feeling things other people aren’t, but you don’t know why. It can be super isolating.
3. Challenging Authority Figures
- “…having that argument with Mr Yates during his mock exams!” Either Nick or Charlie, Solitaire, Page 40
- “I swore at Kent.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 269
It’s very common for people with Autism to challenge authority figures. Generally this is because they often naturally assume equanimity and don’t understand why some people should get more respect then others if they aren’t seemingly deserving of it. This stems from having a heightened sense of justice and empathy.
4. Autism and Sexualtiy
- “I guess you could say I’m not too fussy about gender.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)
We know Michael’s canonically Pan and as we’ve previously discussed (read Tori’s part for more info) Autism and the LGBTQ+ community are heavily intertwined. I tried to look into Autism’s correlation to Pansexuality but couldn’t find anything specific.
I also wanted to add in a little fact about how Neurodivergent people tend to gravitate towards eachother and queer people tend to do the same so Michael and Tori makes a lot of sense.
5. Special Interests/HyperFixations
Ok so, Michael gets pretty into Solitiare. Right from the start he’s obsessed. Taking photos of the posts, insisting they go to the meet up. I’d probably say it’s a hyperfixation.
And DISNEY. Holy heck Michael loves Disney… and if you haven’t caught on already, yeah imma say it’s a special interest.
- “He gasps and grabs a third DVD, leaps across the room to the flat-screen and switches it on. “We’re watching beauty and the beast,” he says.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 115
I mean look at how excited he gets over ‘Beauty and the Beast’.
6. School
- “Seriously. I haven’t gotten above a C grade in any subject since Year 8.”
“It seems almost impossible for someone like Michael to be unintelligent. People like Michael - people who get stuff done - they’re always smart. Always.” Solitaire, Page 188
- “When it comes to exams… I generally don’t write what they want me to write. I’m not very good at, well, sorting out all the stuff in my head.“
“I just don’t know what the examiners want to hear. I don’t know whether I just forget things, or maybe I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain it. I just don’t know.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 118
- “Because I hate school!” This is quite loud. He starts to shake his head.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)
A lot of people with Autism struggle with school and like Tori points out, it’s not because they’re not smart, Michael is smart. It’s just that the education system isn’t fitted to benefit Neurodivergent children. So many things affect Autism in schools. The dreadful sensory environment, lack of control over what they can and can’t do and the difficult social pressures.
7. Emotional dysregulation
- “He clenches his fist and he snarls. He actually snarls at me.
“Maybe you are a manically depressed psychopath.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 163
Emotional Dysregulation is the inability to control the intensity and expression of emotions. This is common in people with Autism and can result in overly intense emotions and lashing out. I think this is something that heavily impacts both Tori and Michael and results in a lot of their arguments. The aforementioned quote is just one example of how quickly and dramatically their arguments blow up due to this.
- “His face contorts into a kind of scrunched-up snarl, his fists curl, his skin drains of colour, and he storms past the man and tramps over to the benches. He reaches a row of lockers and looks into them, blankly, chest visibly expanding and contracting. With an almost terrifying malice, he throws a crazed punch at the lockers, wailing a subdued howl of rage. Turning, he hurls a kick at a pile of racing helmets, scattering them about the floor. He clutches his hair, as if trying to pull it out.” Solitaire, Page 211
Oh there is just so much to cover here. So this is a prime example of an Autistic meltdown. Autistic meltdowns can be caused by overwhelming emotions (In this situation that is Michael loosing his race) and result in an outburst which can include crying, screaming (“howl of rage”), aggression (punching the lockers and kicking the helmets) and self injurious behaviours (Pulling his hair). It’s probably worth mentioning that a few of the outbursts he has towards teachers that I mentioned earlier are probably also meltdowns.
8. Stimming
- “Michael starts whistling.” Solitaire, page 198
Whistling is a form of stimming, this particular quote is from when they are in Truham looking for Charlie, considering Michael’s disdain for Truham I can imagine it was a slightly stressful environment to be back in which would validly result in a need for stimming. I actually couldn’t find any other examples of stimming except possibly the hair pulling that was mentioned in the last quote.
9. Pattern Recognition
So pattern recognition is the autistic brains increased ability to recognise patterns and in Solitaire Michael is the first person to put together the fact that all of Solitaire’s pranks were related to Tori. I really can’t be bothered to find the quote where they talk about those
10. Safe foods
I think that Tea is probably a safe food for Michael because he is often mentioned to have a mug of Tea in his hands. (But I’m not British so maybe this is like normal? How much tea do British people actually drink?)
1. Miscellaneous Quotes
- Since when did you acquire a body temperature” Solitaire, page 112
I know it’s probably supposed to be related to figure skating but struggling with temperature regulation is very common amongst people with Autism.
- “Most of the time at school I can’t even decide what pen to use.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, page 149
Indecisiveness is very common amoungst people with Autism
Alright that’s a wrap on Michael Holden. I’m thinking of doing a conjoined part for Charlie and Oliver if anyone would be interested in reading that :)
Some of the resources I used:
https://livingautism.com/decision-making-problems-adults-asd/
Thermal Perceptual Thresholds are typical in Autism Spectrum Disorder but ...
https://sparkforautism.org/discover_article/managing-emotions/
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7430467/
https://neuroclastic.com/autism-and-responding-to-authority/?amp
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mvltisstuff · 1 year
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What about a fic where reader is Evan’s sister and gets into a bad car accident? Lots of angst but also some fluff please. 🫶🫶
slipping through my fingers - e.b
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summary: request :)
evan buckley x sister!reader (a lot of maddie too 🩶)
a/n: i have an eddie diaz oneshot in the drafts currently that i’ve been debating on posting. it contains a pretty sensitive subject, so i really wanted to get it right. it was inspired by another request, along with another show. i hope you enjoy this and i’ll keep on writing some more for you guys :))
y/n could say growing up with as the youngest buckley wasn’t the easiest task. the consistency of begging for attention was draining from the start. going above and beyond for just a grain of appreciation was the default in their house. she was repeatedly looked through, almost as if she wasn’t there due to her parents grief.
she had come after buck in a desperate attempt to be able to save david, but failed in the end. he was gone too soon, so therefore, y/n was almost like a chore. sure, her parents loved her, but she wasn’t the child they wanted. dealing with the discovery of why she wasn’t loved enough was just as bad as experiencing it. maddie was in boston with doug, and buck had gone onto his own adventures. meanwhile y/n was stuck at home with nowhere to go and no plans of leaving. she dreamed about it, though. she heard about buck moving to los angeles and immediately wanted to be with him. she was almost done with college, and after that, she packed up her diploma and degree and flew away.
life in california was amazing. she had friends, she was loved, and she had no reminders of the lonesomeness she felt at home. for once, she was able to make a home out of where she was. maddie was safe, and it felt like they were a fixed version of their family.
out of the pure intentions in her heart, y/n invited her distant parents back to LA. with maddie expecting a new baby, and the years of a few texts, there was a new hope that maybe things could be turned around. it wouldn’t change their childhood experiences, but maybe they could heal them. maddie was on board, but buck was still skeptical. their words were like knives and the scars couldn’t be helped. he showed up anyway, wanting to give maddie and her baby the opportunity to have a life with them.
they travelled six hours, and chimney and maddie were gracious enough to host a dinner for everyone. maddie received hugs and gifts as buck and y/n were kind of nudged away. when maddie got her baby box that her parents had from when they were kids, buck and y/n had just become dusty figures. they didn’t say anything, at least not about that.
an explosive speech from buck had ignited from the judgmental words from their parents, causing him to be begging for love and expressing his inner teenage self. he had removed himself from the dining room of the apartment, and y/n sat in her seat, slumped over with her head in her hands.
“god, can you guys please just do something other than reprimand us?” y/n breaks the awkward silence.
“we were just speaking, y/n!” says their father. “if evan wants to storm out, let him.”
“well, maybe he wouldn’t have stormed out if you didn’t nit-pick ever part of his life.”
“you invited us, y/n. i don’t know what you want us to say. you know what we went through-“
“and you think that’s an excuse? if so, it’s a shitty one and we all know it. no parent should have to say goodbye to a child, but no child needs to go unloved because they don’t care anymore. and you didn’t even bat an eye when he begged you to ‘love him anyway’. so if you want to sit here, and tear down everything we have build from your actions, be our guest.”
“you always defend your siblings, y/n. you guys have never once put yourself in our shoes!” their mother cries out.
“oh, trust me, we did. for over 20 years,” maddie breaks in.
“how do you think we feel, maddie? you all just packed up your stuff and ran away to leave us with nothing,” speaks their father, again.
“dad, i can’t… i can’t do this. everything i did, i did it myself. i made this life here for myself! so did maddie, so did buck. don’t go putting yourselves on a pedestal,” she begins to gather her things, and put hers and bucks dinner plates away for maddie and chimney.
“where are you going?” chimney says, trying to calm everything down and he’s definitely in the most awkward situation.
“chim, thank you for dinner and letting us come over. you’re welcome over to my place anytime. i’m sorry, but i’m going to see my brother,” y/n says, shutting the door behind her.
while maddie stays back, trying to pick up the broken pieces, y/n drives over to bucks apartment. she repeatedly calls him, making sure he’s okay and to say that she’s coming over. the roads were dark from the early sunsets of the fall, barely illuminated from the streetlights.
“buck,” she says into her phone. “i know you’re pissed off, and im sorry i arranged this. but i need to know you’re ok, so im on my way over. please call me back.”
she ends the voicemail and tries to put her phone back into the holder. it slips out of her shaky hands and onto the floor of the seat. she groans out, worried he would call her back and she wouldn’t be able to answer. she doesn’t reach down, but she looks at the phone on the floor.
a drunk, someone intoxicated with alcohol, must have been driving like a maniac. swerving through lanes with no warning and passing several signs. she tried so hard. she tried to move out of the way, but the spontaneous movements of the driver had confronted their cars head on.
the flash of white from y/n’s airbags flew out at her. the glass of her windshield was shattered, laying all over the dashboard and the seats. her head drooped onto her shoulder. the cuts on her face were stinging and the other pain in her body went unnoticeable due to shock. the soft ringtone of her phone was vibrating on the bottom of the car. the ringing in her ears caused the sound to be faded out, and she couldn’t even get it to call 9-1-1.
“maddie, hey,” buck says as maddie picks up the phone. “have you, uh, tried calling y/n? she left me so many calls and now she won’t answer.”
“no, i haven’t. she said she was coming to see you,” maddie replies, confused.
“where’s mom and dad?”
“the hotel, they left soon after her.”
buck pulls his phone away from his ear and the buzzing on his hand. y/n’s name appears across the screen. “oh, she’s calling me know,” he hangs up the phone and answers it to a bone-chilling sentence.
“is this evan buckley?” a deep, unknown voice asks in bucks ear.
y/n was awake in the ambulance, hearing all the chaos and jargon around her. she knew she’d never hear the end from buck, being a firefighter. she begged them to let him know, telling them repeatedly, “my brother works at the 118,” and how maddie is a dispatcher.
she was wheeled into the hospital on her stretcher, collar on and a big bandage around her waist for a massive piece of glass in her abdomen. “y/n buckley, 27, three-car pileup with an oblique fracture to the tibia and penetration wound to the abdomen, likely to not have hit any major organs.” and before she knew it, she was sped into the trauma rooms and given more morphine. she just wanted her brother and sister. not all these doctors or her parents.
buck picked up maddie on the way to the hospital, not thinking twice before smashing the gas pedal down. he ran through those doors like a strike of lighting, being seen in one place and somewhere else the next. he forced her name out to the nurse as maddie caught up to him. “relation to the patient?”
“brother, and sister,” he says, impatiently, both hands flat on the counter.
the nurse typed rapidly on her computer. “she’s in surgery, honey. but she’s stable.”
buck puffs out a sigh of relief as maddie grabs his arm, leading him to the waiting room. almost all of the 118 was in this hospital, like she was a firefighter herself. chimney had brought hen, and eddie had come as well as bobby. athena had told bobby, as she was the one who arrested the man who caused the crash.
buck tries to calm himself down remembers all the times he tried to one-up her and smiles at the memories. he and maddie exchange small and sweet memories of their little sister, as her life remains in the hands of someone else.
“hey,” maddie nudges him, trying to think of something to cheer him up. “remember when she stole 20’s out of our wallet to buy us christmas gifts?”
buck giggles a bit, “yeah, and then we tried playing tag, so we spun her around a ton of times and hid inside until she just sat there.”
“and then she fell down the stairs from being so dizzy,” maddie smiles.
“ruthless!” chim interrupts, sitting next to maddie.
“you know you two are what made it so hard to leave.”
“i know. imagine having to leave her all alone with mom and dad, though. she’s gotta be ok, maddie.”
“she will, buck. no one’s getting rid of her that easy.”
the doctor with a scrub cap on comes walking into the waiting room, followed by a few interns and others. “buckleys?”
maddie and buck shoot out of their seat first, and chimney and hen follow soon after like a train. “oh, my bad.” hen says, pulling her and chim back down to sit.
“what’s goin’ on, doc?”
“y/n will be fine. she had a fracture in her leg which we fixed up. she’ll need some help getting around, but she’ll be good as new,” the doctor informs.
they knew she would make it out, but hearing it being confirmed by the doctor made it so much more real. buck was speechless, not being able to mutter out any words. “can we see her?” maddie asks.
“you can, she’s still sedated from anesthesia and intubated, but cynthia, here, can lead you to the room.”
seeing y/n’s fragile and hurt body on the bed was an agonizing sight. maybe if buck hadn’t stormed out, she wouldn’t be in this bed and have come across that driver. maybe he could’ve driven her home. all the ‘if’s’ and ‘maybes’ in bucks head were floating through, thinking it’s his fault. he always takes the blame for these situations when it is completely the opposite.
buck sees tragedy every day, and maddie hears it. maddies only sister was in the small hospital room with a tube down her throat. she needed y/n there to help her, and her baby needed her aunt. buck needed his little sister, the one always there for him and forever will be. the thought of her not being there scared him to death. even though they see get rushed into the hospital or sent to the morgue every day, it will never prepare you from seeing your favorite people in that position.
buck stumbled over to the chair by the side of the bed, pulling it out for maddie to rest her aching feet. he walked to the other side of the bed, sitting down and grabbing lightly onto y/n’s hand like he was scared to break it. “i don’t know if we should say something. let her know we’re here, you know.”
“she knows, evan,” maddie says, meeting bucks eyes with her own. “i know that.”
buck smiles and looks down at y/n, her chest rising and falling with the hissing of the tubes and machines. he observes the iv’s and cuts and fresh new bruises. he wants to kill whoever did this, but at the moment, his only concern is the well-being of y/n.
so, for the rest of the night, maddie and buck didn’t move from their spots once until she was awoken and the tube was removed. they held her hand, and when y/n was awoken, she knew she was safe from the hands that were tangled with hers.
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codfanficedits · 9 months
Text
Don't fall in love - Part four
Summary:
You get warned not to fall in love with Ghost, but you did anyways. Final part!
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader
Wordcount: 901 | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: a healthy conversation.
Part one - two - three here.
“I don’t understand.” How could anyone really want you?
“Why not?”
“I’m just, me? I have too much issues for you to really want me. I’m too damaged to be loved by anyone. You can get any woman you like, you shouldn’t want me.”
“Stop filling in what I want.”
Simple words, yet they’re so effective.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
But what if you hurt him again? What if that is the final strike and he leaves you? What if you let him into your heart, what if you let him become your home and he grows tired of you?
“You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry.”
“Tell me what is going on inside of you.”
You’re amazed he can keep such a calm attitude while you feel a storm brewing inside of you. You’re amazed he can keep driving the car without crashing the both of you.
“I’m worried.” You begin. “Worried you’ll hurt me. Worried we will get into an argument and you’ll leave me. Worried I will let you in, and you see me for what I am and you decide you don’t like it.”
“I can’t promise you we won’t get into an argument.” He starts. “We’re both human, arguments happen, feelings happen. But I can promise you we can communicate about it.”
It was hard to hear this, because all you wanted was for him to promise you empty promises, promises he couldn’t keep, so you could throw it in his face. This was a nice change of pace, but boy was it terrifying. Terrifying yet exciting.
“Would you stay the night if I asked you again?” His voice breaks your inner turmoil.
“Yes.”
“What made you change your mind from last time?”
“Well..” Your voice dies out, and your mind starts to wander again, going into territory you don’t want it to go. And there comes the worry again. Because you had just told him how afraid you were, what must he think of you if his words weren’t enough to calm you down? God it felt as if you were already behind in whatever the fuck it was the two of you were sharing.
“You’re so in your head, you can’t even enjoy where you are.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” His eyes meet yours for a short moment before he focuses on the road again. “You’re so in your head, so worried what I will think of you, so worried what others will think of you. Please try to let that go.” His voice is soft, softer than you’ve ever heard before. “I’ve slept around after I’ve slept with you, and while I’m sure you don’t like it, you don’t bring it up, you don’t judge me for it. So why treat yourself different.”
“Well, you’re not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.” You protest.
“Neither are you.”
“This is difficult Simon. I can’t see what you see in me. I avoid my gaze in the mirror. I have no interest in learning what it feels like to meet my eyes.”
“But meeting your eyes is beautiful.”
“And all beautiful things come and go.”
“But they come.”
This man had a way with words you had never experienced before, and it brought you a sense of relief.
“Why do you know so well what to say to me?”
Simon is reluctant to answer you, but does so anyway. “Because I am telling you the things I wish someone else would’ve told me.”
“Oh.”
“But that is okay. I found my strength and I can use it to guide you. I can’t do the healing for you, but I can try to understand how it feels and help you.”
“That’s the kindest anyone has ever been to me.”
“And you do deserve so much more of it.” For the first time in ages Simon finally allows himself to have the conversations he has been craving so much. No longer is he Ghost, the man to just have a shallow one night stand with, now he is just Simon and Simon cares.
“Thank you.”
You take a deep breath, excitement and fear dancing together inside of your soul.
“Where do we go from here?” A question you hate to ask.
“I think we need to take it slow. You’re a giver, always pouring out too much love. But you don’t realize yet that watering a rock doesn’t make it soft.” He looks at you again before he continues. “You are yours before you are anyone else’s, and I would like to be next to you while you figure that out.”
You can feel your heart starting to race again, your mind filling again with the insecurities, clouding your happiness, but this time it’s you who breaks the silence.
“But I want us to be inclusive. Seeing you sleep around breaks my heart.”
“I won’t, but you have to actually stay the night if you promise me it.” A little playfulness to ease the mood.
“Do you promise to stay alongside me, even when it get’s difficult?”
“I promise.”
“Even at my worst?”
“Even at your worst.” The words leave his lips without thinking about it, as if staying with you at your worst is so natural for him.
“Ask me to stay, and I will. I will drop everything else if you ask me to stay.” He whispers.
“Then please stay.”
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eridianfic · 4 months
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꧁Late꧂
Take from me/what you want/what you need
Pairing: MC X Sen
Length: <1k
Tags: hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, angst, general audience
a/n: there's so much angst inherent to Sen's concept! This is probably wildly ooc bc we know so little about her, but I couldn't help myself:) heavily inspired by two songs, embedded at the end.
You know she’s not in the bed besides you as soon as you wake. It’s not the temperature that alerts you. After all, her side is always cold as the grave, just like her. No- it’s the weight of the bed that’s different, the mattress pressing around you instead of shifting towards her, and the blankets pushed off to the side when she got out of bed.
You find Sen sitting on the window ledge in the kitchen, tiles cold under your feet. You’re cold too- the air is chilly on your skin now out from under the comfort of your blankets. It’s almost pitch black in the rkkm and you just faintly see her silhouette, a dark void in front of the moonlight outside. She’s nearly motionless but she acknowledges your approach with a slight turn of her head towards you. You breathe together, quietly. Her breath comes out slower, more labored. After a pause, she speaks.
“I don’t think I can stay here much longer.”
“You’ve made up your mind?”
She sighs, a deep, rattling thing. “You know I have. I can’t hold on longer for you. I’ve been trying. It’s not working.”
Her faint outline against the moonlight feels more akin to a ghost than a person sitting in front of you. You guess it’s only fitting.
“Sen, I know it feels hopeless, I know that. But listen, we haven’t been searching for that long. I think there’s a cure out there for you, something that will alleviate your suffering and bring you back to-“
She cuts you off. “Bring me back to you? Back to life? I wish I could be with you. You know that. I’ve been trying and trying. And when I tell you it isn’t possible, it feels like you don’t hear me. Like you’re choosing to not hear me. You need to let me go.”
Your breath catches a little as your throat tightens. "Sen. Sen, I'll give you whatever I can. Whatever you need from me. Stay here. Stay with me. We'll figure it out".
She laughs at that, sharp and jagged. It cuts into you. "What I need from you is your blessing. Your acceptance that the person you know is already gone." She softens a little, and you can hear the rustle of her against the windowsill as she shifts towards you. "You've fallen in love with a ghost. It wasn't meant to be."
You stumble towards her in the dark, kneeling in front of her.
"God, Sen. You told me we shouldn't get to know each other when we met. But aren't you glad we've had this time together? Don't you want more of it? There's so much we haven't done together, so much I don't know... If it's about hope? I'll have enough hope for the both of us." You scoff dryly. "All the sins in the world and the one I got was greed. I want you. I want more time with you, more memories, more opportunities to find out how to fix this". Your hand reaches out to hold her cold hand in yours, fingers running over the delicate line of stitches.
What you don't say is that she's the only one you have. That if she leaves, you'll be alone. Alone again, always betrayed, always left behind, never worthy of being fought for. With her, there's something that you've never felt before. Serenity frozen, isolated from the world. Insulated from each of your problems. A place, deep in the earth where you can hibernate, together. A grave, perhaps. Away from time.
Her hand slips out of yours. "Don't do this to me," she whispers. "I've been brought here against my will. When is it going to be about what I want, for myself? I can't. I can't sacrifice myself for them, for you. I don't want to. Help me find a way to end this. To let me rest in peace like I want to. Don't you know? I've experienced it. Peace, at the end of it all. The stillness and richness of soil, of stone. That's what I want."
You hate yourself for saying it, but you say it anyways. Mutter it, in spite of yourself. "My peace is you, Sen. How can I have that without you?
There's a note of finality to her voice. "I guess you just can't understand. It's not something for you to know. It's my journey to go on, and you can choose to accompany me or not."
You've known that she felt this way. Couldn't stop yourself from trying to convince her one last time. You nod. "Whatever you'll give me. Whatever time we have left together."
You rest at her feet for a moment, leaning against her knee. She places her hand at the nape of your neck, gently carding through the strands of hair. You sit there together, quietly.
Your head nodding sleepily and resting heavily against her leg causes her to pause. "Come back to bed. We'll start looking again in the morning."
You follow her upstairs. You'll follow her until you can't any more. Until she goes to a place you can't reach.
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