#that he's just there to make people suffer and nothing else and it's sad because he's so much more than that. and he looks so hurt too :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 9 months

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slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

#mingi smut #ateez mingi smut #song mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #ateez song mingi #kpop #smut #kpop smut #fem reader #ateez x reader #mingi x reader

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jams-sims · 2 months

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Because its so late, I think I can say this. As much as I fucking hate purgatory. As a DM to a story I think its the most natural out for characters and Muns. Oh! my character can have either lived or died on the purg island? Do I feel like coming back? If the answer no. Easy out, no over the top feeling, no need to do a final stream if I dont want to. Just a stark sad tragic exit that leaves it mark. Because no one expected people to die on this silly fucking island. But deaths, mark very important and poignant moments. The island is curel and its consuming its islanders.

Max's death is one of sacrifice for his friends and the eggs. He was in a hole of loneliness, I think that loneliness took him as well. But I think qMax's death was a simple stepping stone while q!jaiden death will be a full on turn. See-

Jaiden death is probably the most fitting for her character because it is the most tragic. Q!Jaiden died when bobby died. She speant her days in a home just cluttered with his images and his likeness. She was being used by the Feds and I think deep down she knew that. Her connections were severed do to grief, her platonic husband while also spiraling found hope. He got married had a new kid and while he made sure people put some respect on her name when it came to Bobby. He had moved somewhere she could not get to him.

An in a way, I think that's all she truly needed. Her last connection, Roier was happy living his full life in a castle. An what did she have to go back to? A sunset in a house full of memories in a field of flowers surrounded by nothing. The week spent in purgatory felt like a century of suffering.

Something in her finally broke and maybe she didn't make it to the final part where everyone else was. Maybe she walked slowly, legs and feet numb. An she got to a clearing, the world is doused in chaos once again. An her ears are rinning with sirens. An all of it fades away as she stops, she stops limping along, she falls back into sitting on the cold earth.

She realizes their nothing waiting for her back on the island. What was the rush for? What was all the screaming and crying, the begging the longing. She's tired. She so tired of it all. All of it and what was it for? A new start that would never truly be hers.

She relax for the first time in a long time and the sunset looks beautiful. And she hopes that roier stays happy that all the eggs get to live happy and healthy lives.

She doesn't even hear the explosion. She closes her eyes. An when she opens them she in the air, weightless and flying. She has food she hasn't eaten in a long time. She tells Bobby not to worry, she happy now. Only to feel a swift kick to her shins. As Bobby takes her hand and she gets to tell him about all the thing she did after his passing.

She finally get to go back home.

#qsmp #jaiden animations #qsmp roier #fucking sobbing while writing this #qsmp jaiden #roier

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missmonsters2 · 11 months

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—Just Last Lifetime

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You didn't move after Tyler knocked you down, and it would've been over had Enid not come when she did. Wednesday stays beside your hospital bed diligently, hand tracing yours as she plans how to torture you for the rest of her life and how she looks forward to letting you plague her. But the moment you wake up, nothing will ever be the same again.

Warnings: Angst. Sad!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: wondering if I've lost my touch on angst 🥹 so I hope this makes you all suffer <3 Part 2 will be out next Wednesday!

Count: ~4.6k

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The smell of disinfecting spray, pine, and bleach filled Wednesday's noise. There are sounds of people briskly walking and doors sliding open and shut. A TV in the room is turned on at a low volume, meant to keep her distracted, but all she can focus on is that her chair is too squeaky.

The taste of burnt coffee Enid brought her earlier has long been forgotten despite how it lingers on her tongue.

Wednesday doesn't remember getting to the hospital.

Well, she does—in bits and pieces.

One moment, she was being strangled by Tyler in his hyde form, and the next, she was released, and you were on Tyler's back, arms wrapped around his large neck as you squeezed with everything you had and then some.

But you were so small compared to Tyler, and the second he grabbed your arm and slung you around to face him, Wednesday knew it was over. He crushed your wrist, broke your elbow, and hung you like a ragdoll before whipping you into the nearest tree before Enid came and saved you both.

Wednesday only briefly had a moment to check on you, to feel your weak pulse before she had to keep going, especially at Enid's wordless insistence that she would take care of you.

And only because it was Enid that Wednesday left to take care of the rest of the job of killing Crackstone.

It was only because it was Enid, who adored you nearly as much as Wednesday did, that she knew Tyler wouldn't be escaping mercifully, and Wednesday could go do what only she could do.

But after that fight? After capturing Thornhill? Wednesday didn't stay to gloat. She turned and immediately returned to you, her heart feeling heavy, weighing her steps down when she found you exactly where she had left you.

Too scared, Enid said. She was too afraid to move you in case there was some serious damage.

Wednesday doesn't remember the ambulance and the medics. She doesn't remember them carrying you on a stretcher into the vehicle. She does remember vaguely throwing out haunting threats if they didn't let her ride with you.

Lucky, the doctor said. You were incredibly lucky that your gift of air manipulation softened the blow of your head against the tree, and you didn't die upon impact.

Wednesday looks at you, how your head is wrapped around in bandages, and covers your eyes. The machines and tubes that are hooked up to you and assist in making your chest move up and down in almost too slow of breaths. She looks at the discoloration of the skin of your arms and legs and wants to scoff.

Wednesday reaches out, her hand stopping just inches above yours. She hesitates, worried that even the weight of her small hands will hurt you. It's a familiar feeling she has now.

Worry.

Consideration.

The depth of how she feels it is only meant for you.

Wednesday pulls her hand back, placing it back into her lap, where she holds her hands tightly together.

It doesn't feel so lucky.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Why do you insist on following me?" Wednesday turned around, glaring at you while you came to a stop to avoid bumping into her.

"Well," you tilted your head, smiling crookedly at the gloomy girl before you. "Why do you insist on being alone?"

It was already a bad sign that Wednesday was beginning to find the familiarity of your crooked smile something she wanted to keep for herself.

Wednesday knew then that she should make you go away, that she should open her mouth and say the most horrific things that she knows could shred your heart and pride into nothing more than cuts of misery as a reminder you should stay away from her.

But Wednesday didn't.

"I'm meant to be alone," Wednesday warned you, Goody's words flashing through her mind as a warning—a condemnation. "I prefer to be alone."

"I don't think so," you shook your head. "I mean, I've followed you this far along. I think you've grown used to my presence."

"Growing used to something doesn't mean I'll miss it if it's gone."

You quirked your brow at Wednesday. "Do you want me to go then?"

Wednesday's eyes flickered away from your face, staring into nothing with her blank face before she looked back at you.

Your crooked smile returned, and Wednesday clenched her jaw.

"No."

"Then, shall we continue on to investigate...wherever you're taking us?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

The days drift and bleed together. Wednesday is a girl used to strict routines. Still, she's finding something rotting about her monotonous day that starts with waking early, getting her hour of writing in the morning, and attending classes (because Weems has bargained her attendance in exchange for a car to take her to and from the hospital every day after class and whenever she wanted on the weekends), sitting in the hospital chair for hours by your bedside, returning home, playing the cello, and going to bed.

The silence has never bothered Wednesday before, but the lack of your voice—the way you teased her and laughed—Wednesday wants it back.

The bruising on your arms is fading into something that's an even more gruesome color. She knows it's a sign of healing, but Wednesday remains true to the fact she hates colors.

Wednesday lifts her hand, tracing the lines of your hand so faint and delicately. If those who knew her saw her now, they'd never be able to believe that she was capable of such gentleness.

You don't flinch. You never do.

Wednesday can't tell if she's hurting you or not, but you've always been too capable of hiding your feelings and thoughts—perhaps Wednesday never knew all along if she was hurting you.

The irony of Enid's words calling her out for her callousness and disregard for others rings so true now.

Wednesday closes her eyes. If she closes them long enough, she can almost hallucinate hearing your voice laugh weakly and telling her it's not as bad as it looks.

Wednesday opens her eyes, staring back down at your too-still body.

But it was. It was that bad.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Did you fight with Enid?"

"That's none of your concern."

You laughed, and it sounded like the strings of her cello that carry during the late hours of the night.

Wednesday worshipped the sound of her cello.

"Well, fair enough. I don't know why I asked since it's so clear from Enid's huffiness all day that you two clearly did fight. She's been ranting to Yoko and me non-stop that she's not returning to this room."

The words twinged in Wednesday's heart, plucking at its strings in an unfamiliar rhythm.

"Good," Wednesday bit out anyway. "This room can finally look more dreary."

You smiled as you sat on Wednesday's bed while she sat at her desk. You hooked your feet at the legs of her chair and began to drag it until it was turned towards you before pulling her closer.

Wednesday looked displeased, her lips pressed in a thin line, and her eyebrows knitted in uncompromising sternness.

"Admit it, Wednesday," you said in a sing-song tone that Wednesday detested because you were about to say something ridiculous. "You feel alone, and it doesn't feel as good as you thought."

Your words pricked at her, but Wednesday remained stubborn.

"Enid wasn't the only one in my company."

It was such a roundabout way of saying it; it made Wednesday want to roll her eyes into the back of her head and slice out her tongue.

You smiled wider. "I suppose not," you agreed with a conceding nod. Wednesday felt victorious, but the feeling was fleeting with your next words. "But every person is different and fills your life in an irreplaceable way. You must admit that Enid can't be replaced by another."

"And why must I admit that?" Wednesday glared, kicking your feet away from her chair. "I don't need Enid. I have Thing, and I have—" Wednesday's nose scrunched in displeasure. "You."

You seemed adamant about shaking up her life ever since you entered it. Wednesday, particularly, was disturbed by the constant barrage of emotions you keep trying to drag her into. It was becoming a slippery slope.

Wednesday's assault didn't seem to bother you as you kept your relaxed expression.

"As flattering as it is to be the only person, with a body and head attached to my hand, that you need—"

"I didn't say I needed you."

"—You should make up with Enid. I know you miss her, Wednesday."

Wednesday said nothing. She wanted to spout curses at you and make you take back everything you were saying. So ridiculous. So...defeatingly correct.

You grinned at her.

"Surround yourself with people you appreciate, Wednesday. There's no way someone as lovely as you could be destined to be alone. Ravens are still known to feed with other flocks and play with the wolves, dogs, and otters."

"Did you just call me lovely?" Wednesday's lip curled in disgust.

You laughed. "Sorry, someone as hellishly morbid as you."

Wednesday let a rare smile slip. "Finally, a real compliment."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

It's just another day, but Wednesday can admit it to herself now.

It's easy now when you're unaware of anything around yourself for Wednesday to admit she appreciates you—more than appreciates you.

Your weeks of silence have given Wednesday plenty of time on what she'll say when you wake up. Declarations that you belong with her and her treacherous heart belongs to you, so you will do well to treasure it. There might be interrogations about how you've managed to do it, but Wednesday knows the answer, even as simple and stupid as it sounds.

Time.

It was merely just time and your consistency by her side that lured Wednesday to you.

Wednesday's palm lies flat against yours, her fingers slide down yours until they shift slightly to the side, and then she's holding your limp hand.

Inane.

Waiting for you was entirely ridiculous and foolish, but nothing could convince Wednesday to be elsewhere. For once, she's at a loss at what else she could do besides wait.

Wednesday's eyes trail over your face, taking in your long lashes pressed against your cheeks like an everlasting kiss. She takes in the bridge of your nose and down to your lips.

They've been a little dry since the nurses aren't attentive to such things, so Wednesday has taken it upon herself to occasionally apply chapstick to your lips.

It's such an intimate gesture, one she'd know you'd appreciate. Yet, you were solely unaware of it.

Wednesday rests her cheek on the back of your hand while she still holds it. Her eyes flutter shut as she mumbles into the quiet room, "Wake up, so I can tell you that everything I am is yours."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"I don't like him."

"Who?"

You gave Wednesday a look with your brow raised. "Tyler, obviously."

"You can join the queue," Wednesday looked uninterested in your words. "There seems to be a long line."

"Shouldn't that be an obvious sign that he sucks?" You sighed but kept your eyes on the barista. "Why do you keep spending time with him?"

"There are plenty of people that don't like me, and I find myself to be far superior to most people," Wednesday flipped the page of her book, not quite paying attention to you.

You look back at Wednesday with a lopsided smile. "I don't think people dislike you, Wednesday. I think they're scared of you."

"As they should be."

You let out another sigh. "So, I guess there's no convincing you that you should stop spending time with Tyler?"

"Do you have any sound reason other than 'his vibes are off'?"

"I don't like the way he looks at you," you spouted off immediately, looking at Tyler again with a reproachful look he seemed unaware of.

Wednesday scoffed, looking up at you. "You sound jealous."

The words were meant to make you back off. Wednesday imagined that you'd scoff back at her and deny it in a way that would secretly make Wednesday think about late at night.

But then you looked right back at Wednesday with such a serious look in your eyes that made Wednesday clutch her book tightly in caution.

"I am."

Wednesday had no idea what to make of your blunt words, so she merely turned her attention back to her book, wishing her braids would cover her ears more as they burned.

It didn't stop Wednesday from spending time with Tyler, but now she kept thinking about you each time she did.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

Wednesday is at the vending machine, staring blankly at the snacks and drinks. Enid insisted that she should stretch her legs and sent Wednesday on a mission to grab snacks for everyone. The werewolf had shoved money into her hand and practically pushed Wednesday out the door.

Her own reflection stares back at her, and Wednesday admits that she looks worse than she normally does. It's subtle, and perhaps no one but Enid could tell how her eyes are sunken in a little more than usual. Her braids are not completely symmetrical, and the air around her is stale.

Wednesday's about to put the money given to her into the machine when the phone in her pocket vibrates non-stop. The sensation of it makes Wednesday grimace as she pulls it out. Her eyes roam quickly over the words before she turns around and takes off back to your room.

The vending machine was two floors down, and Wednesday ran up the stairs instead of taking the excruciatingly slow elevator. She's by no means unfit in any way, but the anticipation makes her breathless as she enters your room.

Everyone in the room is waiting with bated breath as you shift in your bed, the air suddenly moving around in the room and creating a slight breeze.

There's a small groan from your lips, and Wednesday is immediately at your side, grasping your hand in hers. The sudden contact makes the breeze disappear as you settle back into stillness. Your eyes flutter a couple of times before they open blearily.

The room's harsh light blinds you momentarily, and Wednesday immediately uses her other hand and places it just inches above your head to shield you from the direct light.

You open your eyes more easily, letting things come into focus. Wednesday watches as you seem slightly confused, and Enid rushes to your side, her head popping into view along with Wednesday's hand.

Your bedside was slightly propped up, but Enid moved to press the button to slowly recline you up further so that you could see everyone.

"You're awake!" Enid is half-yelling, trying to keep quiet because Wednesday would kill her if her yelling disturbed you in any way, but unable to contain her excitement. "How are you feeling? Should we call the doctor? I think Yoko already did. Oh my god, you're finally awake. The bruising looks like it's gone away for the most part, but now that you're up, it should get better quickly!"

"Jesus, Sinclair," Bianca drawls with a half-scowl. "Give her some breathing room. She's already got Wednesday up in her space, protecting her from the light like a knight in gothic armor."

Enid turns to glare at Bianca, but Wednesday doesn't pay attention to any of it. Her eyes are focused on yours. Your eyes are looking everywhere in the room, looking uncomfortable. Your eyes finally drift to Wednesday, and while they're undoubtedly your eyes, Wednesday feels something amiss.

It's you...but not.

The moment you lock eyes with Wednesday, you finally seem to notice that she's holding your hand, and you pull it away awkwardly. The action makes Wednesday slowly pull both her hands back to herself.

Dread fills her.

You wince a little at the light fully unobstructed, but you adjust.

"Enid?" You sound confused as you look at the blonde with pink and blue streaks in her hair.

"Yes!" Enid smiles at you, and you smile back unsurely.

"Am I at the hospital?" You ask slowly, wincing as you touch your head softly and feel the bandage.

"Yeah..." Enid purses her lips. "What's the last thing you remember?"

You blink at the question, silent as you consider your answer.

"I...I don't know," you eventually say. "I think at the library? People were making such a racket about the news, and I was trying to get away from all the noise in the quad."

Enid's brows furrow at the answer. That was too vague to determine anything.

You swallow, turning your head to look at Wednesday, who has no expression, and for once, she knows you can't tell what she's really feeling.

"Um...you're the new girl, right?" You fiddle with your blanket awkwardly. "Wednesday, I think? Enid was excited about you arriving, and she'd finally have a roommate."

The words she's been saving for you die in her throat, leaving something hollow for her to swallow down.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday knew that the damage to your head was serious. However, she didn't think you'd lose a couple months' worth of your memories.

Amnesia.

That's what the doctor said, but he couldn't determine whether you'd regain them. He seemed hopeful, and while your parents failed to show up and Weems stepped in as acting guardian, he spouted suggestions on how to help you regain them.

But then he also reiterated that it might not come back.

How utterly useless.

You would be discharged in a few days, free to return to school, where you'd have to take it easy.

Your roommate Yoko practically assigned herself to look after you since you'd be stuck in your dorm for a few days to fully recover.

There was a moment when Enid was about to catch you up on everything, but Wednesday pulled her aside first.

"Don't tell her about me," Wednesday orders.

"What?" Enid's jaw drops before she whisper-yells, "What do you mean?! I've been pulling my hair out for the last couple of months because of you two and you're finally about to get together and you want me to not tell her about it? It better be because you're going to."

Wednesday shakes her head. "She doesn't remember."

"Which is why we should tell her!" Enid is exasperated.

"There's no point in telling her if she doesn't remember how she felt," Wednesday snaps back, trying to remain quiet. Her eyes peer past Enid's shoulder at you. You're talking with Yoko, staying cautious about Bianca and Xavier there but not saying anything about it. You look briefly at Wednesday as well, pursing your lips in what she thinks is a smile but can't really tell anymore. It's not a look you've given her before.

Wednesday looks back at Enid. "Just because she'll know doesn't mean she'll suddenly feel it again. The knowledge of it all might burden her instead, and I—" Wednesday clenches her jaw and fist tightly. "I don't want to risk that she'll feel burdened or obligated to me."

The words sting in a way Wednesday's not used to.

There's no way for her to express to Enid that Wednesday wants you to know every possible way you love her. She wants you to feel it the way you forced her to.

Despite Wednesday's extensive vocabulary, there are no words to describe the desperation that lingers under her skin, clawing around with desire with how she just wants you to look at her and know.

Enid takes in her roommate's bitter expression and sighs, relenting. "Fine. I won't tell her exactly what went on between you two—not that I fully know anyhow. I'll just tell her that you were friends. That will at least explain why you're at the hospital."

Wednesday nods stiffly, and Enid lifts her hands towards the other girl's shoulder, hesitating briefly before placing her hand on Wednesday comfortingly. Wednesday allows it briefly before shrugging it away, and the two of them return to your bedside.

You smile at Enid, eyes trailing over to Wednesday's curiously, and it brings her some comfort.

After all, everything started with your curiosity.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, we're friends?" You ask slowly, taking in Wednesday's stiff sitting posture. There was a distinctive space between the two of you, and you had your legs crossed, slanted away from her.

A couple of weeks have passed, and it was in the midst of winter. Despite Enid regaling the last couple of months to you, Wednesday hasn't had much opportunity to see you. In the same breath, you didn't seem to be seeking out Wednesday's company for answers, either.

The only reason Wednesday was sitting with you now was because both Yoko and Enid were busy with their after-school activities, and you needed help going to the library to catch up on your studies.

It became clear quickly that because you didn't remember getting closer to Bianca and Xavier, you were uncomfortable being alone with either of them.

So, Wednesday was quick to volunteer despite you still remaining uncomfortable at the suggestion.

"It's fine," Yoko reassured you. "Wednesday excels in all her classes and can definitely help you."

It had felt like a jagged knife slowly ripped across Wednesday's heart that you needed to be reassured to be alone with her.

It feels like that cut was endlessly bleeding, unable to stitch itself back together while you remained ignorant about her, about yourself, about everything. This heart that Wednesday caged in for so long was finally free and yours…and you didn’t even want to hold it.

"Yes," Wednesday confirms, despite how the words feel stale on her tongue.

The library was, for the most part, empty, leaving the two of you with privacy. Wednesday was helping you catch up on assignments and going through lessons until you determined you needed a break.

Now, you seem to be asking for answers nonchalantly, as if you were only asking because there happened to be an opportunity—not because you were interested in actually knowing.

"We must've been pretty close if I was willing to tag along with you during these seemingly dangerous investigations, and even willing to take a hit for you," you comment thoughtfully as you consider what you've been told.

"I suppose," Wednesday bites out.

"Did we do anything else than risk our lives together?" You ask, and Wednesday grips the pen she's holding tighter.

Sometimes—when you're not talking and focused on something else—it feels like nothing has changed. Or at least, Wednesday can pretend nothing changed.

But it was moments like these, where you look at her like she's nothing but a stranger and ask these questions, that she becomes acutely aware that nothing has been the same since you woke up.

Wednesday takes a quiet deep breath before she answers. "We studied—like this. You often kept me company while I wrote or played my cello."

"Oh, those are pretty cool hobbies. And I just sat there?"

Wednesday nods. "Sometimes you'd paint Thing's nails."

"Thing?" Your brows furrowed in confusion.

Wednesday closes her eyes and sighs.

"Sorry," you mumble. "It must be hard for you that I don't remember anything."

You sound genuinely sorry about it, but there's an underlying tone that suggests you feel sorry for Wednesday, not that you're aching to remember yourself.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"No investigating tonight."

Your voice was firm as you blocked Wednesday's way from the door. The goth girl raised her brow at you but said nothing as she waited for you to continue talking.

"We have a test and a paper due tomorrow and I know you haven't started."

"I can finish it before you even finish showering," Wednesday drawled. "And I don't need to study. These classes are incredibly rudimentary, and I've learned it all before I even started attending school."

You rolled your eyes, but Wednesday caught you smiling with amusement. "Wonderful, Matilda. That means you can help me study and read over my paper then."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at the nickname, but you were already walking inside her room, shutting the door behind you.

"And if I say no?"

You hummed in thought. "Then I'll hint at Xavier that you want him to ask you to hang out."

"You don't want to live anymore?" Wednesday threatened.

"If you're going to be like that, I'll have to make it worth my while and tell him you've got feelings for him," you smiled.

"Feelings of aggravation," Wednesday muttered, dropping her backpack with a grunt and walking back to her desk. She looked at you pointedly, and you made your way over and set your things down.

"I imagine even your blunt rejection will make him think you're in denial," you laughed.

"You must want Xavier to die," Wednesday deadpanned. "You can simply ask me without making disturbing threats."

"I thought you liked threats," you smirked.

"I'm both revolted and delighted by it," Wednesday admits with a sigh through her nose. "At the very least, delighted you know how to make them."

Wednesday pulled Enid's chair from her desk across the room and offered it to you. "Since you've decided to be a nuisance in my investigations tonight, we won't be done until you've gotten every single practice question correctly and I can be assured you'll be getting 100% on both your test and paper."

You grimaced slightly. "Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?"

Wednesday smiled in a truly wicked way. "Let's begin."

Wednesday didn't say anything about how your calf rested against hers the entire night, and you said nothing about how she didn't move away once.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

The days are passing by again, drifting and bleeding together. Instead of watching your motionless body and waiting for your recovery, Wednesday watches you walk about, carrying on with your life...without her.

You seem fine if you have to spend time with Wednesday, but you don't seek her out on your own. It was becoming apparent you were uninterested in her.

The knowledge of it is something Wednesday can't admit because it feels like abandonment. The idea of it has crescent-shaped dents pressed into her palms from clenching her fist so tightly.

You're content to spend your days laughing with Yoko at the cafeteria, finding comfort in the vampire as the only thing that seemed to remain consistent as your roommate and friend.

"Don't give up," Enid encourages when she stands next to Wednesday, who is watching you from a distance. "She's just...anxious. She won't admit it, but she's scared. Everything around her has suddenly changed; the only thing that's remained the same is Yoko."

It was annoying. If anything, it should be a testament that Yoko experienced no growth during the hectic months.

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday said, unable to remove her eyes from you.

Wednesday can't give up on you. You've invested far too much time into her, and everything you've done to her is irreversible now.

You're unaware of it, but Wednesday loves you...that wasn't going to suddenly change.

And just as you've used time and consistency to lure Wednesday towards you, she would do the same. She just needed to jumpstart your brain into remembering. But even if you didn't, she just needed to redo it over again.

It was still possible. You were still hers, even if you didn’t know it. You had to be because the alternative—

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday reiterates.

"What are you going to do?" Enid asks unsurely.

A plan starts to formulate in Wednesday's head.

"Recreate the memories."

Part 2

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

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coeurdedior · 3 months

Text

It’s always « poor Lulu » and never « poor Elain ».

Elain who had a mother who didn’t care about her. A mother who only cared about Elain’s beauty and what that beauty could bring her. A mother who didn’t believe in her. A mother who said she had no ambition, and that she only cared about her gardens. A mother who wanted Elain to have an advantageous marriage.

Elain who saw her father’s death. ( and maybe she feels guilty for his death for not arriving sooner. The fact she said nothing could have saved him. Did she have to make a choice between saving Nesta and Cassian or her father ? A life for a life. We don't know if changing the future can have consequences. )

Elain who saw both of her sisters almost die in front of her.

Elain who has been kidnapped two times. (And we don’t know her thoughts about it.)

Elain who was thrown in the cauldron. (Feyre literally said that Elain’s screams broke her heart and Nesta said she felt violated ») Also, the fact Elain was thrown the first one, she didn’t know if she would survive. She had to deal with pain, stress, fear and also, the humiliation when almost all of the men in the room laughed at her. Also, the fact she was almost naked in front of them.

Elain who had her heart broken by Graysen. He rejected her because she is a fae now. He didn’t accept her as she was. And during this time, she had to learn to love a body that people made her hate (people seems to forgot but for Nesta and Elain, Faes weren’t good people. They learned to fear and hate them.) All the sisters had to deal with this transition. Be the thing they learned to hate. They were humans and now they are faes. They saw their lives changed overnight.

Elain who had to deal with her new power. She was lost between reality and dreams. She saw and heard things that no one else saw and heard. She must have also thought she was crazy or something was wrong with her. Until Azriel told her she was a seer. She blinked and woke up. (And it makes me laugh when people said that she needed sunlight or see the gardens when it is written in the book that « she woke up »when Azriel told her she was a seer. You can’t make an interpretation when it’s literally written).

I also add that Elain was depressed in the beginning of ACOWAR. She wasn’t eating, she didn’t speak, she was staying in her bedroom.

And finally, Elain who had to deal with a mate while she is interested in someone else. A mate who reminder her of her trauma. A mate who reminds her the worst day of her life probably. (It’s also why I prefer Elriel than Elucien or even Gwynriel. The first meeting between two characters is very important to me, and the circumstances in which Gwynriel and Elucien met are just too sad. Elain and Gwyn look at them and they remember the worst day of their life, it’s not very romantic to me).

So, the lack of compassion for Elain is so incomprehensible. She’s literally the definition of suffer in silence.

And, I’am tired of seeing comment like « Lucien deserves to be happy ». They act like Lucien carried all the misery of the world on his shoulders.

All the characters suffered.

#pro elain #elain archeron #elriel #lucien vanserra #anti elucien

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babacontainsmultitudes · 4 months

Text

Great teen talk overall, but honestly I was particularly interested in what Matt had to say about where Lincoln is at right now (and that we might get a better glimpse into this next episode? Which has me both nervous and excited but I'm trying not to think about it *too* much cause I'm already super nervous about how things are gonna pan out for the twins next episode).

It all tracks- Lincoln's increasingly nihilistic view of the world impeding on his ability to feel much of anything but nevertheless caring about how *his friends* are feeling and what they want. Being too deep in a dissociative state to process his own grief (and everything else) but caring that *Normal* is sad and doing what he can to help him.

I think Lincoln is a funny and incredibly fascinating character because if you look at his words, honestly no one can deliver a blow like Lincoln- a trademark of his brutal honesty, and in most stark contrast to Normal's "toxic positivity", neither being inherently better or worse than the other just inverted, and reflective of different values (something something cheerkicks is doomed by the narrative they should kiss etc. etc. not what the post is about). Conversely, if you look at Lincoln's actions (and Lincoln is, at his heart, an action-oriented character), truly nobody is putting their ass on the line for the people around them quite like Linc is. I've stated on several occasions that I believe Lincoln is the most selfless of the teens, and I stand by this, but this is a virtue as much as it as a flaw. It's heroic, to put yourself in a line of fire to save your friend's dad, or impale your leg on a candy cane twice to get an anchor, or hug your friend to show them you care even if it literally winds up killing you- but it also reflects self-preservation instincts that somehow manage to be even weaker than those of the guy who tried to throw himself out of a building thinking that a parachute would save him (god I love Taylor).

Lincoln cares immensely about his friends (despite his growing numbness to the world around him), but dangerously little about himself and what becomes of his own life. As a less dire example, "Apollo Four Teens" acts as a great demonstration of how Lincoln will stretch himself thin for everyone around him until there's nothing left, but forgets in the process to stop and register his own emotions and tend to his own needs. Combine this with Lincoln's perpetual "keep calm and roll with the punches" attitude towards the nonstop bullshit the teens have gone through over the course of the season, including an extensive list of unresolved issues related to Grant (which by now I've outlined fairly thoroughly), and you have a serious recipe for disaster. Characters like Normal and Scary are, relatively speaking, pretty obvious and emotive with respect to their pain, even when they are trying not to be. This is good, since it makes it easier for other characters to recognize that they need help in the first place and try to look out for them (they may not always know how to do so correctly, but the intent is there). Lincoln, in contrast, shuts down and becomes less emotive in response to his own pain (in a manner that is somewhat similar to Darryl, more similar to Glenn, and of course most similar to Grant, but ultimately different from all of them), silently building his walls up higher and higher but being no safer for it. It is partially for this reason that other characters very rarely think to check in on Linc and see how he's doing (Taylor to his credit tried after the titanic episode, but that got interrupted, and Grant does also try but- much like his own dad with him- fails to meet his son halfway in being honest and vulnerable and hence fails to make any progress), leaving him to mostly suffer in silence perhaps without even truly realizing it himself.

I guess the gist of what I'm saying is, Lincoln is in deep water, all of this has been a long time coming, and if nobody does anything about it soon... (Metaphorically-speaking of course-) that boy is going to drown.

#. Also I liked how much they talked about the shade witch (and candlethorp)#dndads #lincoln li wilson #despite how verbose this ended up I'm actually having a lot of trouble wording my thoughts tonight-#but teen talk really got me thinking about my boy so I had to try and get some of it out lol #dungeons and daddies #also posting this at a horrible time but that's not a big deal #baba babbles

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team7-headquarter · 5 months

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Team 7 introductions are like:

Naruto: I want to obtain POWER so I can force people to look at me like an actual human being and not a monster, haha! They won't ignore me or isolate me anymore! They're gonna BEG ME and put their lives on my hands and— Oh and ramen. All the ramen. And maybe prove to everyone that they are dumb ass fuck for not believing in me? Yeah, prove them wrong, that's cool! And and and Iruka-sensei is cool! I'm so happy when someone does the bare minimum and respects my life and acknowledges the fact that I'm just a kid and that I'm suffering (one of) the craziest discrimination acts applied by our government Hokage...

Sakura: you know how the first real goal I got like the first thing I wanted for myself after years of being bullied and being nobody and wanting to disappear was the affection of this boy? Well, all these other girls think I don't stand a chance and that they'll get the boy, so I'm gonna win the boy and laugh at their faces. Does it mean that I need validation and affection and attention and love? Not, what are you saying, I have a perfect normal life and parents that are totally involved in my life and I am happy! So happy! I wouldn't know what sadness or loneliness is like! Never! I'm normal and totally nothing to worry about!

Sasuke: you'll find that the things you like in life are meaningless when you carry the trauma of being the sole survivor of a genocide committed by the brother you loved and adored. I want him dead which shouldn't be surprising given that we live in a society ruled by violence, right? I hate a lot of things because I'm painfully aware of how miserable our reality is. Since this is my trauma, no one else has the right to do something about it. They certainly didn't seemto have the balls to go after him, even when they call him criminal, so I'm gonna kill Itachi myself. Obsessed you said? Try enjoying life when you know someone can commit genocide and no one would give a fuck and the government won't do a thing. Try caring for others knowing they can get kill any day and you'll have to look the other way. I dare you to.

Kakashi: *most emotionally neglected adult in the village, abandoned as a kid, saw his father do the right thing and get so socially pressured he ended up commiting suicide and the government didn't give a shit, forced to become a perfect weapon at young age to show off the village strength, forced to become an elite assassin as a kid, people in the village widely making fun of his trauma and acting like he's just weird / peculiar and not on the verge of losing his mind for real, a champ at dissociation and a minute more away taking roots in front of the graves of his mistakes because he spent way too much time there in self-punishment, basically the most miserable jounin in the whole village*

Kakashi: hm, I won't let you get to know me or get close to me because everything I touch dies and I don't want to get attachments because you're soldiers and you might die and it doesn't matter that I have history with two of your families and that you all remind every single minute of the boy I watched die and the girl that I killed and the boy used to be. You will never know any of that. I am a whole man with a whole life that you'll never know because I am just your superior here and you must obey me in our missions. I'm definitely not hiding the fact that the village just failed me and set me up to be the one who failed you all in case you get killed or lose your shit once and for all.

#naruto #team 7 #og team 7 #team kakashi #kakashi hatake #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #naruto classic #og naruto

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insolentgod · 6 months

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⚠️Attention:⚠️ very long post. It talks a little about: state of lack, take your desire off the pedestal, time it takes for a manifestation, get distracted about your manifestation , self-concept, and Cassies

one more night high and having crazy epiphanies about manifestations. and another day using a translator to translate my text to post here, because I haven't claimed to be fluent in English yet 😛 So, as I always warn, if there are possible grammatical errors, it's for this reason.

I'm here to bring you an analogy I created while discussing with a friend haha. (Yes, this time there's nothing about lana del rey!)

you know those people who humiliate themselves for others? Who do everything for someone specific to love them, try to talk to them even if it's unhealthy, or beg them to stay in their lives. (yes, it's quite depressing and sad)

i haven't been like that much in life, usually when someone didn't care about me, i cared even less about them. but I won't lie, there have been situations where I may have humiliated myself a little, but it's human.

anyway, going straight to my analogy, let's imagine that you struggling to manifest something is a friend "Cassie," and the manifestation will be her ex-boyfriend, okay? (i swear it will make sense in the end)

what I write outside the parentheses is Cassie's situation, and what's inside the parentheses is possibly the situation you're going through on your manifestation journey.

okay, you have this friend Cassie who keeps saying that her ex-boyfriend doesn't care about her, doesn't respond to messages, and shows no signs, and she's going crazy and desperate about it (just like you when you see no progress in your manifestation). so she does EVERYTHING to get him back (just like you when you try multiple methods non-stop and feel needy). and as Cassie's friend, you think, "poor cassie, she doesn't deserve to suffer like this" (and she really doesn't deserve it, just as you don't deserve to suffer for your manifestations). there are also moments when she sends a message for you saying, "I'll forget him this time, I promise." but after two days, she's there messaging him again (just like you affirm on the first day all motivated and trying to convince yourself that this time your manifestation will come true, but after a few days, you see no progress and start panicking), and then she gets very sad because she thinks they will never get back together and she will never be happy with him again (just like you think you can't manifest anything, that the universe hates you, that you will never get what you want, that the loa doesn't work). But meanwhile, there are other people out there getting back with their exes and you admire them, wondering what it would be like if it were you... (just like when you look at other people's success stories and think "why can't I do it?") spoiler: You can do it too, honey. If everyone else can do it, so can you. Wake up.

If I were Cassie's friend, I would tell her to STOP acting like that and start valuing herself and just distract herself. because let's be honest, men ALWAYS come back, right? 🤣 and many people may disagree with me on this and think that if she doesn't chase after the guy, he won't come either. but that's how it works for me, even before I started using the law. every time I started valuing myself and stopped begging for others' love, the person came to me. so let's agree with my thinking on this, okay?

and one more point that I think is worth mentioning is that if Cassie really doesn't want to do this alone, maybe a manifestation coach would be a good idea (if it were a real situation, I would suggest her to seek a therapist). There are nuances about "manifestation coaches," I honestly don't use them and I recommend working on your self-concept. but it's an option if you want, but please do thorough research and find a trustworthy one.

returning, what can you do to not be another Cassie? I'm telling you to stop doing whatever you're doing to try to achieve your desire? no. just get out of the state of neediness and desperation, like a Cassie. you don't need that, my love. you don't need to worry, "Is my manifestation coming?" You don't need to use a thousand methods because you don't think it's enough. whatever you believe will bring your desires, will indeed bring your desire. If you believe that jumping three times, building a castle, and kicking an elderly person will give you what you want, guess what? If you do all that, then you will get what you desire. and if you believe that affirming once in your life will get you a beachfront mansion, guess what? you will achieve that.

so, to not be a Cassie:

1 - trust what you're saying, please trust yourself. nnow that ONLY WHAT YOU THINK is the truth, and it will be. (my last long post talks about this exactly, I highly recommend it, okay).

2 - take your desire off the pedestal. your desire may be your biggest dream in life, I don't care. take it off the pedestal. the powerful person who can have anything they want is YOU, not your desire. tou are a thousand times greater than your desire. you don't chase after your desire, your desire chases after you. you know when manifestation coaches tell you to start manifesting just a blue butterfly or a candy? well, it's because for you, that's not difficult. It's something you find easy to manifest and know it's totally possible to have. but you can literally manifest a Porsche at the same speed as manifesting an ice cream, okay? take your desire off the pedestal; you are fully capable of having it.

3 - get out of the state of lack. In the law of assumption, some people talk a lot about states and some manifest just by being in the state of the wish fulfilled and ready, they succeed. but the state of lack is literally when you feel the lack, the absence of your desire. you don't feel like you have it or you don't feel worthy of it, so you probably fall into a spiral of despair with millions of thoughts like "what will I do if I don't achieve it?" "I don't see any progress" "time is passing and I don't have my results". Anyway,

- But what do I do to heal my state of lack?

just don't be in it 💐💐💐 yes, it's easy, okay. please believe that it's easy and it will be. I know it's very easy to affirm when you're motivated, especially after reading a success story. but motivation doesn't last forever and I don't think it's healthy for you to keep restoring your motivation by reading success stories all the time. there's nothing wrong with it, but you don't need success stories to heal. every time you feel like you're entering the state of lack, start trusting yourself. when it happens to me, I start affirming "none of this, I have my desires" "I don't care about what my 3D shows me" "I have what I want", I also imagine myself with my desire as if I really have it now. I'll admit, there are times when I start affirming this to avoid entering the state of lack and at first it feels like I'm feeling wrong, the feeling of hopelessness even. but regardless of how I feel, I keep visualizing and eventually start feeling strong and motivated again. in those moments, you have to be strong and disciplined with yourself, okay? you can do it.

4 - try not to care about time or the 3D reality. i know it's difficult, but please live in your imagination and believe that if you have it in your imagination, you have it now. about time, it depends, okay? Some people manifest in seconds because they believe they can, while others manifest in weeks because they think it takes weeks. if you're the second type of person, you can definitely manifest in seconds if you allow yourself to do so. self-concept affirmations help a lot in this aspect. Just don't worry about time in the 3D reality. If you know that in your mind you have your desire NOW, then you have it now. once you're fully living in your imagination, it will come in the 3D reality. I know it's difficult, but just trust yourself and your mind. I promise that if you live 100% in your mind, your desire can come very quickly.

5 - distract yourself! don't spend the whole day thinking about your desire. usually, the desire comes when you accept that you have it and continue living your life. I know it's complicated, especially when it's something you want, but distract yourself to avoid excessive and negative thoughts about your manifestations. and please get off tumblr for a while

6 - improve your self-concept, please. Just do that, and your manifestation journey will be much easier.

I think that's it for today. I talked a lot as always 😛😛

I usually don't respond to people asking for help here on my blog (mainly because I don't receive any requests) but if you're having problems, you can send me a message, and I'll respond ❤‍🩹 I just want to help someone like loa bloggers helped me when I needed it. good night everyone, and stay hydrated.

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c0ld0utside · 2 months

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Hi! May I request a yandere vampire with a teen reader? (Maybe the reader escapes and the yandere ends up turning the reader)

Ily so much! Feel free to ignore if you want :)

This reminded me of Interview With The Vampire (1994). Thank you for that. I am now planning on getting all 13 books of the original series.

Criticism is welcome!

Warnings (Let me know if I missed any): Suicide mentions, Suicidal thoughts, Possessiveness, Clinginess, Death, Reader gets turned non-consensually.

Holden had been alone for years. His family was long gone, and so was his sire. He was foolish at the start, befriending humans and falling in love with them. It was funny, really. Being immortal made Holden forget about his past life as a mortal for a while. Until his human friends and lovers got older and withered.

Some he had to end himself. They had either asked too many questions, grew suspicious, tried to sell him out, or thought he was some other unholy creature. Sometimes they found out but didn’t care. Those were rare. After years of pain and loss, Holden kept to himself and did the one thing he enjoyed: traveling.

He didn’t know why, but constantly moving around made him feel safe. As time went by, new things popped up and old things either dropped or changed. Now, vampires were nothing but monsters from fairytales. Some people even liked them! …Some a little too much. The one thing that didn’t change was the rule Holden made for himself.

Never get close to anyone ever again.

Not even a pet.

Mortals had no escape. All they will do is wither away and die slowly. Holden didn’t want anything to do with them, either. Not anymore. They were all evolving backwards.

There were hardly any other vampires around. On the chance that Holden came across one, they were either downright insane, genuine assholes, or wanted nothing to do with him. He’d hear through the wind that some couldn’t take it anymore and let the sun burn them away. Immortality was a curse, and Holden was a fool for thinking that the loss of food, drink, and sunlight was the only downside. Immortals weren’t so different from mortals. They die for eternity.

He made a mistake. He should have never agreed to be that man’s fledgling. Here he was, walking through the streets that got dirtier and dirtier, standing out like a sore thumb. Holden didn’t even care about his businesses, his stocks, or his riches anymore. Holden would never make someone suffer the same fate as him and every other vampire out there. He would never get close to someone just to watch them die over the years.

He should just find a nice spot away from any sort of civilization, drop his umbrella, and wait.

Holden almost set out to do it immediately, had he not tripped over poor little you.

“Oh- ah, sorry,” Holden said, stumbling over his words. He looked up and glanced around. …Where was he? He sees the sidewalks lined with tents and there’s a horrible smell in the air. Like piss and…oh, yuck. That brown stuff across the street was exactly what he thought it was.

He still remembers poor little you, looking up at him with big, sad, tired eyes. Crying and begging him for help because Mommy wouldn’t wake up and you were feeling worse. Promising that you wouldn’t touch him because you knew how filthy your hands were. Poor little you… scared that he’d ignore you like everyone else. Clothes ragged and covered in muck.

Holden tried to ignore you. Tried to focus on getting out of that awful part of town. Tried holding onto his rule. Someone else would take pity on you. …Surprise, no one did. God, humans really were evolving backwards.

So, he finally gave in to the feeling in his chest and threw his rule out the window. Holden remembers how easy it was to scoop you up into his arms and carry you to his car. He ignored how awful you smelled. How dirty you were. How matted your hair was. He ignored the looks he got from others as he buckled you up in the backseat. Holden’s heart was singing joyfully the entire drive home.

No one is ever truly emotionless or happy with being alone. Part of Holden had realized that the moment he stumbled into you. Once he had fully accepted it, his life had meaning in it again. He didn’t care how long it took. He had cleaned you up himself and let you sleep with him that night in his hotel room. You were so small then…

The next morning, Holden bought an extra plane ticket and went out shopping for some new clothes. All for you. Everything he ever did was for you. Everything he does is for you. His precious child. His sunlight. All those nights helping you with homework, getting you private tutors, encouraging your hobbies, movie nights, game nights, going out into town, spa days, sleepovers, having you hang out in his office after school, taking you on trips with him…the list unsurprisingly goes on.

Holden didn’t want to turn you at first. He didn’t want you to find out what he was, either. That was until the years started blending together again and you were getting older. His heart ached. He missed when you were so small, clinging to his side and wanting to do everything with him, seeking his approval. He misses you when he has to go away on trips.

But here you were now, independent and relying on him less and less. Choosing your friends over him. That’s when he remembers it again. That he’s immortal and you aren’t. That you’re dying slowly and that he’ll lose you like everyone else. How could he have forgotten?

No, he thought. Forget the rule, forget his morals. He wouldn’t dare to try and replace you. He won’t lose you, too. Before he turned you, he figured he should deal with your “distractions.” Suddenly your friends abandoned you and your teachers started to fear you. Your tutors stopped coming around and your dear old dad started acting stranger. You’d smell something like iron from his wine glass as he watched you eat dinner. He’d sleep in later and later. He’d make you stay up late with him. Slowly, Holden exposed you to what being a vampire would be like.

You never saw your father eat. Only drink water and wine. He was quite the night owl as well, always sleeping until noon. He was getting more clingy, too. Wanting to spend every single moment with you, talking about things you did when you were younger. Telling you to forget about your old friends and tutors and school. You wouldn’t need it anymore, he said.

Holden hadn’t expected one of your old tutors to show up one night. He hadn’t expected her to go off on him, saying that he couldn’t just get rid of her. Saying he couldn’t just give her a bunch of money and expect her to forget about you.

Holden couldn’t blame her. You’re lovely and wonderful to be around! You always get so excited when learning about something you’re interested in, too. He couldn’t blame her at all, but he couldn’t let her get in the way. Holden tried to be quick and quiet about it, but she did scream rather loudly. Her blood didn’t taste that great, either.

He didn’t know that you saw it all happen, either. He didn’t know that you couldn’t sleep and wanted to confront him about your education and his behavior. That you missed going outside and being with people that weren’t him.

He didn’t know why you ran away from him. Or how you suddenly disappeared. It took him weeks to find you. Holden couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of you for staying hidden for so long.

“Believe me, darling, this is for your own good,” He says, his grip firm as he tugs you back inside. “Hey, enough with the screaming. No one can hear you, and you’re hurting my ears, sweetheart.” Holden chides lightly, guiding you into his bedroom.

“This reminds me of our first night together, you know.” He says. “I wish you didn’t run away. I was going to tell you everything, you know. Then you could’ve properly said goodbye to the sunlight and we could’ve chosen a nice spot to do this. …Ah, well. You’re my sunshine, and I’m your sun.”

Holden’s caught off guard when you snap at him. When you curse at him and say that you hate him. When you call him a monster and that you wish you never asked him for help.

You rarely saw Holden get angry, but that pushed him over the edge. He had been so worried about you! He turned the entire mansion upside down looking for you. He thought he had lost you forever!

“How dare you?” He hissed, pulling you close and glaring down at you. “You ungrateful little brat! I’ve done nothing but sacrifice for you! I stayed up for hours, just to spend time with you and to work to make sure I had the money to support the both of us! I let you have whatever you want. I gave you whatever you wanted! You wanted to go to school, I let you go to school. And how did that go? Everyone left you!”

“Because you made them,” You butt in. “I overheard your conversation. I saw what you did to Ms. Caddel.” You say, face hot as angry tears flow down your cheeks. “She was probably the only teacher that actually cared about me. That made me like math. That was normal. How could you even do that to someone!? She had a family-”

“Don’t talk back to me,” Holden growls. “Don’t you get it? You’re my family. You’re mine.”

“Not by blood,” You point out. “Never by blood. You’ll never be my real father.”

Holden stops. And then he smiles slightly. And then he laughs, making your blood go cold.

Shivers run up and down your spine as he says your name gently. Despite the situation, his tone is full of love and care. Full of amusement, like you just said the silliest thing he’s ever heard. “My sunlight,” He continues. “If you saw what I did, you’d know what I am by now.”

Holden cups your chin and tilts your head up so you’re looking him in the eyes, your neck exposed. “I’m not a fairytale, my dear. And there is one way that we can be related by blood.” He says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Now, now, don’t struggle. It’ll be okay. It’ll only hurt for a moment.”

“Hey, look, the sun is rising. Focus on that, yeah? It won’t hurt long, but it’ll hurt bad.”

“This will be your last sunrise, my dear sunshine. Make the most of it.”

#Vampire #Yandere Vampire #Platonic Vampire #Platonic Yandere Vampire #Platonic #Yandere #Platonic yandere #Yandere platonic #Yandere dad #yandad #Monster dad

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moonbaby26 · 21 days

Text

Title: The Invitation

(Chapter 6 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader, Smoker x Reader is in the past

Chapter Warnings: language, masturbation (female and male), sexual frustration, non con elements, references to previous physical abuse to reader, voyeurism

Chapter Synopsis: You’ll finally be returning to sea with a short tour of duty with another ship. But one of the islands on the itinerary has special meaning to you. And it now will to Doflamingo as well as plans are laid that will pull you even further together.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

——————————

For better or worse, you and Kuzan hadn’t gotten the chance to argue over Doflamingo much more that night. The exhausted admiral had fallen asleep over the top of you soon enough.

And even with yourself still fully nude beneath him, his underwear had remained a barrier below your waists as you’d stroked your fingertips down his neck and back with familiarity regardless.

You endured that lingering chill from his core in exchange for what could very well be your last feels of him as he breathed steadily against you.

There was still an overwhelming comfort in his presence though, a sense of true safety whenever the two of you were finally together. And as you watched your ceiling above, you knew how many people would have prayed to be as lucky, to have a man of Kuzan’s caliber in their bed in any context at all.

But it was only an attractive lie.

Just a shadow of what could have been. Because he’d confessed at last that there was nothing you could do to make him stay.

He would always leave you. He was choosing to never let anything progress past this awkward stage of need and regret.

And in the end, that meant you just had to keep searching for the next person to bury these needs within. Because in the quiet of the night, fully unable to give in to sleep yourself, you knew that there was something still so very wrong inside of you. Something that made you hate ever truly being alone.

Even Kuzan had called out your flawed nature tonight. Saying that you would still be drawn to the “rush” of fighting and being with Doflamingo as he’d put it. While Smoker had accused you of an insatiable compulsion to always keep climbing at any cost when he had left you too.

As if they really couldn’t see that you still had to battle and over extend yourself at every opportunity just to prove that you deserved to exist at all.

It was a sad twist too that someone so supposedly apathetic to the suffering of others like Doflamingo, would actually be the first one to almost commend instead of criticize this dangerous drive.

You hadn’t forgotten the way he’d looked up at you through those blood red glasses in the Mariejois basement that day. Squatted down in front of you, warm breath teasing between your legs all the while.

He’d said that the others were afraid of you. As if he knew because he understood it so innately in a way that Kuzan snd Smoker never could. In your very first one on one interaction with the warlord, he’d said that he alone was what you needed now.

If he had just been anyone else you likely would have accepted him outright. Literally anyone but the very man that Tsuru had doggedly pursued for all this time.

You felt that shame all over again, thinking how far you would have gone with him already if he wasn’t a pirate or a demon. If he really were just a man.

It would have been Doflamingo in your barracks like this instead. You would have had your fingers twisting in that short blond hair against his scalp as he’d pull his open shirt down from off of his broad shoulders.

You’d have his weight pushing you into this mattress as you’d let him bite and lick across your neck in equal desperation. He’d be undoing his ever tightening pants even while trying to coax you to open up enough to take him in again.

That long, hard cock would be back out in the air and he’d be stroking it to finish getting it ready while he’d growl in anticipation just for the chance to have you once more.

You shifted beneath Kuzan, further guilt rising as you spread your thighs slowly in that vision. But the admiral’s length was covered, and soft in his deep sleep. Yet you still felt the shape of him past that thin fabric between you as you began to slide your hips to push further against it with your thoughts.

So gently at first, and so humiliated in the way you felt that wetness already beginning for you just from the subtle friction. But you were sliding your slit against Kuzan’s defenseless bulge soon enough.

Quietly, but rhythmically as you hated yourself so completely in that first little creak of protest from your mattress.

A pathetic whore is all you could call yourself in that moment as you imagined Doflamingo putting your hands up over your head perhaps. That grin of his close to euphoric by then as the tip of him already would have been pushing into your entrance by now.

In the fantasy it wouldn’t hurt of course. You would stretch, badly even. But it would be alright. And he would be whispering, dirty, vulgar things to encourage you as he’d slide inside of you little by little.

You finally whimpered then, so wet that you knew your slick had nearly transferred onto Kuzan’s underwear, dampening it too. Your legs were spread fully now. Enough that his bulge did dip just slightly into that crevice of your outer lips.

And you did rock against it this time. Hard enough to pretend that he was actually pressing back. Even with all your injuries, your body was more than cooperating beneath him. Your upside down hierarchy of needs still putting this physical hunger above healing, and above all self respect.

It was both Doflamingo and Kuzan simultaneously with you in your mind then. Because at last you realized that even Kuzan’s length was starting to respond as you kept dragging yourself across it.

You could feel the fabric of his boxers beginning to tent outward around him as you kept encouraging it to grow.

But you knew it was only reflexive. His body reacting without his consent or even his awareness in that drunken slumber. He didn’t forego sleep for you like Doflamingo had claimed to. When the warlord had called saying he needed you in his bed.

The admiral didn’t want you the way that Doflamingo did.

“Kuzan…” You still whimpered anyway. Trying to will him to wake and understand even just this once.

You couldn’t sleep until some sort of release had been offered now. Your hand travelled further down Kuzan’s back and then onto his ass as you squeezed it once through his boxers. Also using it as a hold to press up into him again.

He was so hard now. If he would just give you permission…

“Please, Kuzan,” You tried again, nuzzling your face against him.

But he didn’t awake. His head just turned further away from you as he only made an annoyed sound in his sleep.

And then he actually rolled off of you entirely. The weight and the pressure you’d wanted so badly were gone just that quickly as he slid off to lay on his side instead.

His back was the only thing then against you as you heard his breathing quickly return to that deep, unbothered state.

You bit your bottom lip lightly, but still feeling the sting. Even as illogical as it was on your part, this only felt like the burn of rejection all over again.

So you turned your back to him as well then. Both of you back to back within your bed as your hand slid gently between your thighs instead.

You’d have to do it for yourself yet again. Fingertips replacing where Kuzan’s clothed erection had been pressing previously. You even pushed inward a little further. Because the pleasure still felt better than the pain. Your fingers were small enough not to stretch things too much as you started to pump them slowly in and out.

Within short time you were shifting your hips against your own hand. You could even hear those little sounds for how wet you were, sensitive walls trying to close enough to make a light suction around your fingers.

Your pathetic little noises went ignored too though as you could only bring yourself to some mild trembles that went through your thighs. Not the full orgasms you were really seeking.

The self hatred was still too strong as well. But that was only because you were doing this alone. If that pirate had been here, that lingering regret would have been blasted entirely through. He wouldn’t have stopped until you’d been crying out his name.

Crying aloud for him instead of hiding it like this. You just couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. Something was going to have to finally give to admit what you really wanted.

———————————

By the time the sun was fully in your window again, you’d had more than enough time to get up and fully dressed, then neatening and laying back out Kuzan’s clothes for him as he’d still stayed curled tightly within your blankets.

When he hadn’t opened his eyes after the third or fourth attempt of you calling his name again though, you’d sat back down on the edge of the bed beside him.

“I know you can hear me. And I’m going to pinch the hell out of you next if you don’t say something.” You warned.

Nothing about last night was his fault. But it didn’t mean it felt good to you to have to still watch him now. His presence taunting you with an intimacy he wouldn’t allow. The man was so comfortable, as if being in your bed again was as natural as could be. As if this really were home.

“Alright, blue pheasant.” You taunted his admiral codename next as you ran your hand back under the blankets. “Your crew’s going to be waiting for you. And Kizaru’s probably printing flyers as we speak to announce our engagement or some other crap like that.” Since neither of you had been seen out of your quarters yet this morning. Someone would be making assumptions no matter what you did at this point. But hopefully no one had tried to call his room or office yet.

“Our…what?” You heard a muffled reply at last, as his face remained shoved into one of your pillows.

And even though he had finally spoken, your hand was already in range beneath the sheet then as you pinched his ass anyway right through his boxers.

“Hey!” He squirmed, eyes opening at last then.

“Good morning.” You smirked regardless. “I did warn you.”

“Evil.” He mumbled, yet already starting to close those still tired eyes again soon after.

“And I’ll do it again. Come on, the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be to get out of here unseen.” Which was true as the more sailors got up and got moving for their assignments today, the more foot traffic there was going to be.

He sighed, turning then to finally look up at you. You did see his brow furrow a little however as he appeared to glance you over.

“Damn…I didn’t even get to see you in the sunlight before you covered it all back up?” He asked in a tinge of genuine disappointment.

You tried not to look too annoyed at his reaction. Though that was just confirmation that he really didn’t remember last night after he’d fallen asleep then. “Only the early bird gets the worm, Kuzan.”

“Well, the early bird never faced a sociopath flamingo about a girl, and then had to go get plastered afterward to deal with it either,” He replied with a frown, pushing himself up to sitting even as one hand moved up to cradle his clearly aching head. “You got something strong for this?”

You were frowning a little too by then. But the pheasant and the flamingo…you couldn’t help but think of two puffed up male birds strutting around in a dispute over territory and mating rights with that as you got up and crossed the room to where you kept the pain killers.

“Here.” You did walk back to him after a bit though, both with a couple of extra strength pills in one hand and a glass of water you’d just filled from the bathroom sink in the other.

And he took that offering gratefully. Drinking the meds down with the water before he looked to you again.

You felt the change in the way he set his shoulders back in that moment though after he was done, so you knew what was coming.

“Look…if you really made some kind of devil’s deal with that asshole to save other people’s lives, I get that. Sort of. But you still need to call me if something goes wrong. If there’s something you can’t handle by yourself. Can you at least tell me that you’d do that while you get this jerk out of your system, or whatever the hell you’re trying to do with him?”

“I will.” You answered almost tersely. You didn’t want to fight about this further. No matter how patronizing he’d just sounded. You knew he was doing you a huge favor regardless though. Any other admiral wouldn’t have been brushing this under the rug so soon.

You were a marine and Doflamingo was the worst kind of pirate.

It couldn’t be any simpler than that.

But Kuzan’s eyes were still on you, as if he wanted more conviction in your words.

“I will call for backup if needed, admiral.” You answered more firmly then.

But you saw that slight trace of pain flicker back through his eyes at your renewed formality. Yet he let it go.

“Then be safe, captain.” He answered, finally standing up as he slid out of the bed and sat that now empty water glass down onto your nightstand.

You could see the thick ring of frost which had already formed around the glass just from being briefly against his hand. He was not happy.

And neither were you as he redressed in silence while you waited for him at the door.

——————————

The doctor in charge at the infirmary yesterday had given strict orders that you were only allowed desk duty today. So after sneaking that somewhat moody admiral out of your room, and then waiting before leaving yourself to not be seen walking together, you’d come to the offices.

Tsuru had never minded you using her desk if she wasn’t at it. So you were sorting through reports and minor things that had stacked up in her absence. If you could handle as many documents as possible yourself, it’d be less for her to have to bother with whenever her battleship finally would make port again.

It was mostly quiet this early too, enough so that when you thought you finally did hear the steps of something, you’d looked up to see nothing over the top of her desk towards the open doorway.

So you’d ignored it, going back to signing the forms in front of you as long as they were within your rank to do so, before your leg was bumped hard enough to startle you.

You looked down to white fur and a small set of horns now rubbing against your calf and knee. Two black eyes looked up at you expectantly as the little goat bleated.

“Now what is the point of you wearing a bell if you don’t even move fast enough to make it ring?” You asked, albeit smiling at last as you gladly started petting her atop her ridiculously cute head just as she was hoping for. “You must have made a break for it again, huh sweetie? I don’t have any food though, sorry.” You talked to her easily.

“Apologies,”’ A new voice came just as abruptly as her arrival though. “She got tired of waiting for me in the hallway. I got delayed to listen to some complaining. Apparently Aokiji was late to the admiral’s meeting this morning. Heaven forbid Akainu have to wait a single additional minute.”

You looked back up to see none other than Sengoku the Buddha stride through the doorway then. He sat in the empty chair across from the desk as you felt your posture straighten up by default.

“Sir,” You acknowledged him, concerned immediately for the one on one visit. But also quickly realizing just how bizarre it felt to be the one at the desk while he sat imposing, yet still like a guest across from you.

The little goat just bleated more loudly however once she realized your attention had shifted away from her and your hand had gone back up onto the desk.

“Quit being so needy.” Sengoku scolded her gently however and she did eventually give up, then wandering off to chew on one of Tsuru’s plants in the corner instead.

And who were you to tell her no as you only watched the fleet admiral carefully. He did look more serious once his attention was fully back on you too. Which could be terrifying in its own way if you didn’t yet know the reasoning for his visit. “Is something the matter, sir?”

He had mentioned Aokiji already, but you really doubted he’d care anything about that. He hadn’t the last time you and Kuzan were actually official anyway. As long as you weren’t fooling around with a direct superior, the fleet admiral hardly had the time to be concerned with such basic base gossip.

And Kuzan had already promised you that the only other one in the know about Doflamingo at all was Hina. Which, she was no snitch.

“Tsuru asked me to check on you,” Sengoku stated plainly.

“Oh.” But you weren’t sure if that was better or worse. “I haven’t gotten to speak to her in a while.“ You answered truthfully. “She’s still in Lyra?”

You almost asked him if she was coming home soon instead. Before you realized it was kind of odd to call Marineford home. Only her ship was home for you. Or the closest thing you’d known to one in so many years.

“Yes. She’s still in Lyra for the time being. But she thinks you might be interested in setting sail with another crew and meeting her somewhere else down the line. Vice Admiral Momonga will be leaving tomorrow. He has room if you’re agreeable.”

Your brain did hitch slightly again then, but only for the way Sengoku had posed this as a question and not an order. If the fleet admiral told you to go somewhere, you went. It wasn’t as if a lowly captain could have such autonomy in the face of him.

Was this pity?

Was it kindness?

Or had you already worn out your welcome here after so much drama in such a short time? “Of course, sir. I can be packed immediately.”

The way his expression didn’t change made it obvious he’d expected no other answer.

And yet he was still watching you through his glasses. “I also wanted to commend you for your handling of things at the auction house. Vice Admiral Vergo was extremely complimentary of you in my meeting with him earlier this morning. He also expressed his regret for yesterday’s training incident. He admitted to goading you in order to push you further. So any record of yesterday will reflect that.”

Your eyebrows raised a little. In all the mess with Kuzan last night and the revelation of whatever had happened between the admiral and Doflamingo in Sabaody, honestly Vergo hadn’t even been on your radar anymore.

When that leader for G-5 base hadn’t reached out to you last night or this morning for any further help or assignments, you’d figured that bridge had been burned and that you just must have pissed him off somehow.

But apparently that wasn’t the case? That man was still so odd really. From that strange first morning in the mess hall, all the way until him staring straight through you while on the phone in training not long before he’d essentially come alive to whoop your ass outside. As much as everyone else always said how great Vergo was, you just couldn’t figure out why he didn’t mix well with you.

Regardless, it was done. If you were leaving with Momonga, then Vergo wouldn’t be your problem any longer.

And maybe you looked too relieved actually just to have any excuse to go, because you saw Sengoku finally smile slightly. There was a paternal feel from it.

“Tsuru’s quite proud of you you know. Don’t be too discouraged with minor setbacks. Every marine has to find their own path. Some of us flourish on the front lines on the ground, some at sea, some even behind a desk or in the meeting halls. We all have our role to grow within. But you have her support. And I’ve never seen that woman misjudge a recruit yet.”

You felt a slight tightness in your throat as his words landed, not expecting such an admission from the very top in this moment. Your fingers pulled into a fist against the desk. “Thank you, sir. I have every intention of continuing to prove that her faith in me was not misplaced either.”

——————————

At last it felt like you had a handle on things again. Your bags were already packed by the door. Only the uniform you’d be wearing tomorrow was pressed and ready on a hanger in your otherwise now empty closet.

You were sitting alone on your bed after dinner from the mess hall that night, a copy and maps of Momonga’s planned patrol route and stop off points in front of you as you studied it. All of the islands to be visited sounded interesting. But there were even a few that you’d never been to at all.

And to your great surprise when you’d first received these documents earlier, there was one island you were still trying to decide what to do with or even how to feel about. Because to get it thrown in your face with everything that had already happened recently seemed like something you almost should have been laughing about.

What were the odds?

One of the last islands on Momonga’s route was going to be the island of Scylla.

A place you’d never set foot upon, but whose stories had occupied your mind from earliest memory. It was so stupid really, to still be holding onto that dream at all.

But how could you forget it either? The worst beating you’d ever gotten in your entire life was the night you’d been caught reading a book about Scylla under the stairs you often hid beneath at the brothel your mother had worked in when she was still alive.

You’d stolen the book from one of her customers. A merchant who’d had an entire case of them when you’d snuck aboard his ship looking for food that same day. But he must have been someone important. Someone who couldn’t stand a thief either as he’d gladly overseen your thorough punishment.

So it became burned in your mind. Those contrasts of heaven and hell. The images in that beautiful book representing some semblance of fictional heaven of course, with the bone breaking punishments in result of your daring to glimpse it being the reminder of every day in your real life hell back then.

But the juxtaposition had just made you want it more. You’d still run with the book and hid it away before they’d caught you to impose that brutal torture. Which meant when you still hadn’t died days later, with only that intuitive first use of armament haki keeping your skull and the like together, you’d still gotten to have that book and read it over and over even years afterward.

Those pictures and descriptions of Scylla’s crystal clear canals and their flower gardens. Their world class aviary with hundreds of rare species, their open air restaurants and artisans’ markets, and the focal point in the center of it all, their massive church that predated Mariejois itself. All those things you had memorized from girlhood, envisioning escaping your home island to one day see with your own eyes.

But even after becoming a marine, even after Tsuru had found you and gave you that offer to finally leave hell forever, the opportunity to visit that particular place in heaven hadn’t come.

Kuzan had joked that he’d take you there one day, once he’d learned your secret fascination with it. It’d even gotten close enough that you’d both started talking about the next time that Tsuru’s ship might be in that area. Even back then he was far freer than you to move where he wanted, when he wanted. He could have met you there.

But then that horror with Zephyr’s family had come to pass. And any of you who had ever trained with Zephyr, which was multiple generations of marines by that point, had fallen into mourning. Some stupid extravagance like a trip to Scylla had been the farthest thing from either of your minds then as you’d gone to the funerals and memorial services together.

It was probably the last thing the two of you had ever done publicly as a couple actually. You holding Kuzan’s arm, both of you in your marine funeral dress as you’d stared hollow and spent while canons sounded in goodbye to yet more innocent victims of the great age of piracy.

Even now there was something in you that felt guilty just considering a visit again. Because it was so childish, so self serving. Why even still care?

And yet here you were thinking in circles about it. For long enough actually that you realized you desperately needed to put down the maps and go to bed. Momonga wanted to already be on the water by the time the sun was breaking the horizon tomorrow.

Something just kept pulling at you though. Weaving excuses for you as you remembered those slaves from Sabaody again. You still had to erase your debt to Doflamingo so that they could remain free.

And what should it matter if that promise to him was fulfilled somewhere other than that house he’d mentioned in Sabaody? He would likely be picking another location anyway, wanting more distance from Aokiji now if he had any sense of self-preservation at all.

So why couldn’t the setting of your repayment be somewhere you picked instead?

And yet, that would be a perversion of your old dream wouldn’t it? Like everything else in your life, getting one thing you wanted at the price of something else.

Because never in that little girl’s visions of visiting something close to heaven would she have ever thought it’d come hand in hand with a demon’s strings around her throat.

Your eyes moved to your sleeping transponder snail as you knew that Doflamingo was still the last call you’d ever answered on it. Two nights ago, when you were drunk and acting like his own personal brothel girl as you’d writhed on your floor.

His number would still be within its memory though as a callback to the last number which had connected.

Fuck.

———————————

“Look, it’s fifteen percent or nothing. If that’s still not good enough, then tell him to suck my…or no, you know what? Just get rid of them all. His whole crew. They’re replaceable,” Doflamingo grumbled, curved black shoes propped on his desk as the ship swayed in the waves and most of his drink tried to go along with it.

He downed the remaining liquid before it could fully spill, Trebol still chuckling a bit on the other end of the snail. The other man’s tone was nasally but with that amused cruelty as always after an order of execution. “Behehe, will do, Doffy! I don’t like them anyway. We won’t miss them.”

“No, we won’t.” Doflamingo agreed. “How’s everything else?”

“The energy steroids all got bought up, even at the higher price! Those fishmen are loving those just like you said they would.”

Of course they did. Though it’d be interesting of how long it’d take them to realize the true side effects. “Did you already order more?” He asked in return.

“Yes, three shipments.” Trebol confirmed.

“I’d up it to at least five for now. We want some stock on hand in case the turnaround gets longer. We already had the supplier at near max production weeks ago.” They’d have to invest more money into that supplier actually if Hody and his boys kept popping those things like candy.

“Okay.” Trebol answered and there was a pause like he was actually taking notes. Which was fine. Doflamingo rather it be right or not at all.

“I’ll be home in another few days. Weather has still been shitty off and on.” The warlord added, watching another stack of his papers try to tilt right off the desk in the next set of waves.

But there was a noise in the background on the other end like Trebol was also talking to someone else and then another laugh.

Doflamingo looked back down at the snail. That was definitely Diamante saying something teasing in the background.

“Behehe, ask him yourself! I’m not asking that!” Trebol retorted to whatever unintelligible joke Diamante had made.

And there was still another long pause after. Before an additional commotion like the snail was changing hands.

“Oh, you men. I’ll ask then!” And that was Giolla muscling her way between them from the sounds of it.

“Young master!” She said in greeting.

“Good evening, Giolla.” Doflamingo still responded rather patiently.

“So were you able to thwart your rival, young master? Surely that marine girl came to her senses in the end!” The older woman practically blurted, though with a passion that spoke of her true investment in this already.

Doflamingo leaned his head back, a reflexive smile forming at the surprise, even as he made a sound somewhere between a laugh and an incredulous grunt. “I knew I should have kept my damned mouth shut. So you’re all waiting on bated breath now are you?” Didn’t they have anything better to do? He’d clearly have to leave them more work next time.

The snail was practically yelling though as Giolla answered. “But, young master! Your well being is what we live for! And as an artist, I must say I’m fully inspired by this new era of yours. All great creators have made their best works within the confines of the torturous beauty of romance!”

His hand covered even his glasses now, the two layers needed then as his mind tried to deal with that additional outburst. This was his chosen family he had to remind himself, the only reason at all that they were allowed to behave as such. Though he still struggled to find a response. “My…new era, Giolla?”

“Absolutely!” She confirmed.

What the fuck did that even mean?

In fact, it was all so ridiculous that he wasn’t even irritated when yet another snail started ringing to interrupt him. But he didn’t hang up on Giolla just yet even then. He’d had another question he remembered, about the underground port and a repair that they hadn’t updated him on yet. Which they better have done if they had all this time to sit around and worry about him.

“Hold on,” Doflamingo told them, looking at his other snails on the shelf nearby. He pulled that ringing one over, clicking the connection open smoothly enough. “This is Joker. Make it quick,” Or not. Really anything was fine by this point as he was still half distracted.

“It’s me.” Came the almost soft female reply however. As if still concerned with being heard by unintended listeners.

But your voice still wasn’t quiet enough for those on his other line not to hear it even as Doflamingo genuinely froze in that single moment of realization.

He already knew your voice just from those two words.

“You’re not on a secure line are you?” He breathed as he quickly regathered himself though, knowing his side was fine. But any standard marine snail of yours? Not so much.

“I just did a call back. I’m in the barracks.”

Ah, but that would mean you’d really answered for no one else since? Maybe you were more isolated than he’d thought. Not a bad thing when he wanted your time more and more to himself though.

He had still intended to call you later tonight actually. But when he was alone in his bed to properly enjoy it. Though maybe it was already later now than he’d realized.

“I’ll have to get you a better snail.” He smirked anyway. You were forcing him to improvise, but he was clearly pleased. So much so that he didn’t even take the time to hang up the other snail with his crew as his curiosity was already killing him. “And what do you need from me tonight, angel?”

You did pause. All the nicknames he rotated through still not familiar to you yet. Which was exactly why he did it.

“I’m sailing out tomorrow with a different ship. I…” You were still hesitating further regardless.

He hadn’t heard you quite this nervous before. But he liked it too of course. Was he really getting under your skin so well?

“There’s an island on this patrol that I want to take shore leave at. So I wondered if you’d be interested in meeting up there instead. Like I’d promised you before.” You finally got it out, though speaking a little more quickly as you had. Like the words might get stuck if you didn’t push them all out at once.

And his best shit eating grin was out in full force as he digested those words one after the other.

It was an invitation.

You were doing the work for him already then without even being asked. It really couldn’t have been a better gift to him in this moment.

Tsuru must still be in those mountains then. Maybe with the faulty notion that she had time to wait and address this all with you in person. The circumstances of her favorite captain tangled up with her favorite mistake of a pirate being too scandalous of a conversation to broadcast over just a basic transponder snail after all.

Yet who would you be sailing with then? No. It didn’t matter. Vergo could find out for him. Just like Vergo was always keeping an eye out on reports from Tsuru’s ship as well. Doflamingo always knew where that woman was sailing for next.

But he realized he hadn’t actually answered you, too content in this development overall. “Are you asking me out, lover?”

“…it’s either a yes or no.” You rebutted quickly, sounding more like yourself there.

He leaned further back in his chair, shoulders shaking a little as he chuckled smugly. “And what lucky island are you and I going to darken then?”

“Scylla.” You answered firmly.

Well goddamn. His eyes widened behind his glasses a little, yet grinning still. “Straight to the top shelf then? Fuck. I like it, woman. I didn’t know you had champagne tastes on a canned beer marine budget.”

“I’ve wanted to go there a while.” You conceded, though still a bit sharp at that insult to your own pitiful income. “So that’s a yes?”

“What do you think?” He was too eager to even care about your bit of rising attitude. “When does your ship get there then? And how many days are you asking for them to approve?”

As you gave him the timeframe, he didn’t need to write it down. He was fully locked in, mind and body.

“Then it’s a date.” He didn’t care how satisfied he truly sounded. “I’ll meet you in their church there. I trust you’ll know that landmark when you see it?”

“Well yeah.” You agreed, but you’d quieted a little more again. “How will I let you know if something changes? I didn’t put in my request yet.”

“I’m going to get you a new snail like I said. But until then, take down this number.” He allowed you time to get something to note it down, then proceeded to speak not only a direct number, but his actual personal one. It wouldn’t get blocked with the ingoing and outgoing business calls that rang all day and night for Joker.

His tongue had come out to graze his top lip as he made sure to make you aware of the privilege as well. “That one’s mine direct. Don’t fucking share it of course. But I wouldn’t be adverse to some late night check ins either.”

“I’m sure I’ll only get a bunk to sleep in with other sailors right atop me on this trip. It won’t be private,” You mumbled, though he could hear that bit of responding fluster from you even then.

And he didn’t give two shits that his crew could still hear him too, their own snail muted surely just so their reactions wouldn’t be evident.

They’d already experienced enough of his flings screaming his name through the castle walls in Dressrosa by now. And from his bedroom in Spider Miles before that too. Once he was old enough to deal back out that pain and frustration through such a pleasurable outlet anyway. They all knew damned well how hungry their young master could really be.

“Careful with the wording, dear. I don’t think I want any sailors atop you anymore…that’s my job.” He teased even as his voice deepened.

He’d barely realized how much he’d already spread his own legs by then too. Feet still against the edge of the desk as his chair leaned back precariously on two legs. His knees were spread wide in show even though there was no one here to see it.

Sir Crocodile, that specific fling he was still so very proud of, had once accused him of always strutting around like a bitch in heat. And Doflamingo hadn’t even been able to really argue. Pink feathers fluffed, shirt open, and legs spread for anyone who would dare look.

But he only wanted you in this moment at least. More specifically he wanted your face between his long legs. Your breath between his thighs as he’d run his tip across your parting lips.

“I have to get up early,” you protested, as if you had already realized that subtle change in his breathing over the phone.

“So?” He retorted, starting to undo the drawstrings of his pants. “I’m making time for you, you can do the same.”

With the continued movements of the ship, he still took the precaution to steady his chair a little more, running a few thin strings between it and the desk with one hand. Just as his other hand was pushing his loosened pants open.

He let go again of his pants though before placing his palm and long fingers along his bared chest. He was narcissistic enough to still enjoy the feel of his own muscles as he traced between them, fingers rubbing between those hard contours as he felt himself up and then back down along his abs.

He teased himself fully in your absence, but with his hand finally moving low enough that his fingers did meet those short blond hairs below his waistline which trailed in a thin line to the base of his cock.

“Why Scylla then? You said you’ve wanted to go there before now. Tell me why.” He asked anyway to interrupt your silence as he kept massaging himself. He was being far kinder than he had to be. Letting you continue to play innocent in front of his crew like this. Even if he was about to be fucking himself yet again for you.

He just wanted you to keep talking. Your voice in his ears at least if your body couldn’t be within his grip.

“I just didn’t think I’d ever get to see it.” An overly simple answer, too simple really. He felt there was more to this. Marines got to see the world on the daily. Why pick this one island specifically?

“It’s for the rich.” He answered anyway though. He’d read your file more than once, but he could fill in the gaps where that basic report had lacked. You’d been poor as shit he’d bet. Like all the other humans he’d become closest to though. The ones who had suffered almost as much as himself. Because only they could understand him, if even just a little.

You had probably been hungry and dirty until the very moment Tsuru had picked you up and dusted you off, giving you a life as a world government boot licker instead. Power through striking down anyone they asked you to. And doing it so goddamn well too.

Just like he now did as a warlord too. Really, how you marines thought yourselves so far above in morality was always beyond him. Two sides of the same coin really. And he could have gone either way in the beginning. Whether Tsuru or Trebol had won out for his fate, he would have remained the same destructive man inside he was sure, just of another name by now.

An admiral instead of a pirate, killing with as much abandon as Akainu and reveling in it. He would have still been abusing that power, using it to get closer to those gods that had cast him from his own place in heaven. Closer and closer until the day he could finally tear down everything they held dear.

But if he’d been an admiral, he would have locked you down years before now too. Aokiji was only a coward to him who didn’t understand the game. Of course enemies would always go for what was most valued. So they had to be made to fear the repercussions. Aokiji was too little too late. Even his threats in Sabaody weren’t enough.

Not enough at all as Doflamingo stroked himself harder while smiling for you. “You realize we’re going to have to buy you appropriate clothes in the first day we’re there. What do you wear when you’re not in uniform anyway?”

Nothing he hoped. Did you sleep nude as often as he did? It’d be so much easier to take care of those late night urges that way.

“You of all people are going to talk to me about fashion?” There was that flustered tone again. Oh, he was sure that you knew what his hands were doing now. You were figuring him out quite quickly in only these still limited interactions.

But insulting him too? Well, it wasn’t exactly the dirty talk he would have preferred. But he could play all the same, even as his thumb smeared some of that precum, the digit working his tip in replacement for your tongue as he swallowed.

“If you’re taking me to church, I can wear a suit. I own plenty.” He added.

“Well no one would know it.” You snipped back.

Again, he let your attitude slide, his head tilted back more in that ever rising pleasure. He wanted to be in his real bed in the castle with you already. “My country’s warm and passionate, lover. You try having this sizable of equipment sweating in a three piece suit sometime. And the aggravation of having to get out of it quickly enough whenever someone wants to play.”

You scoffed a little. “So is that what you do in your kingdom? ‘Play’ all day in the heat?”

And that tone from you was newer. Though when you’d been drunk that other night, you’d fussed a little about how being passed over by both Aokiji and Smoker had left you unfulfilled. Because you only wanted to be the main dish, didn’t you? Not just another sampling from the buffet of potential conquests. “Mmm…sometimes.” He taunted anyway, even as his hand squeezed himself with only you in mind. “Jealous then?”

“No.” That was an awfully quick answer.

One which he didn’t believe at all, smiling as his abdomen was tensing in the beginnings of that spreading heat. “You liar. You don’t want me to fuck anyone else, do you? Does this little marine think she’s enough to sate me already? Just after a single quickie in some old filing room?”

Even to him it was almost hard to accept though. That he’d only fucked you one time truly. Sabaody had been botched, not fully counting. But everything that had happened since, everything he’d felt in him now, had flared with just that one chance meeting in Mariejois.

All because Tsuru had left you alone and fully within his grasp for the first time he could ever remember. He hadn’t even intended to fuck you that day either. It was your fault in the end. If you hadn’t isolated yourself so far from everyone, if you hadn’t fought him so hard beforehand. If you hadn’t struck him violently enough to make him drink his own blood within seconds of confronting you. You’d both angered and turned him on so thoroughly before he could even catch you. There was no other way it could have possibly gone by then.

And he had thought of killing you or at least bringing you to Sugar before he’d ever even entered that basement. Regardless of his previous fascinations with you in the North Blue, erasing you then would have been the safest thing for his future as Joker. But he couldn’t do it by the end. Because he’d still wanted more from you. And you’d wanted more from him.

He knew that you did.

“You’re going to do what you want. That has nothing to do with me.” Was your eventual answer to him though. Still not admitting that you were wishing for more fidelity with him.

And it was such a non committal, diplomatic trash of a response that he laughed loudly, mocking you. “You’re sounding too much like your marine mother. Fuck that noise! I’ll say it for you then. You want to be my only woman. You want me to take you out in Scylla like those shitheads never would, don’t you? And we’ll do it. Be ready, woman. You’ll see how it feels to be on my arm like a proper prize. You’re not going to want to ever give it up again.”

And that image of you properly dressed, something worthy of him at his side under those gas streetlights in Scylla almost sent him over.

It would be better than Sabaody actually, because it would be your own idea this time. He didn’t even own a home on that island, but he would by tomorrow if it meant having you all to himself.

An all new villa that he could christen with you.

A nest of your choosing is what it would be. Wouldn’t it? Because he’d let someone else -you- have an input in which island for once. A place to be twisted up together in the night soon enough like a mated pair.

He did begin to cum at last then with that final concept, covering the tip quickly with his hand to keep it from going everywhere like the other night as it pulsed out hot and sticky into his palm.

He did pant a little in the aftermath, all four legs of the chair finally back down as he licked his lips again. He wiped the spent need off on his pants too, not caring in this moment.

“It will be a good choice. I’ve never ‘played’ in Scylla actually.” He teased in an almost lazy voice then after he’d had that needed release. “I’ve only breezed through there on business before.”

“I’ve just read about it.” You admitted, though sounding a little like you didn’t know what else to say. You didn’t have the alcohol to help spur you on like that time on the phone before. “I do need to go to bed.” You reminded.

He smirked anyway as he knew you were trying to hang up. “You won’t be so shy when we’re in the same room again I’m sure. Fine, go to sleep. Call me if your schedule changes.”

“Ok.”

“Night then, lover.” He tried to really throw on the affection in that enticement too before you could disconnect though, wanting you to at least say something similar in return this time.

He heard you make a sound, like you were being put on the spot. And of course you were. But you were still turning practical again when he didn’t want you to be. He’d really need to loosen up some of that marine brainwashing you always fell back into when cornered.

“What do you want me to call you?” You asked him instead, like speaking to another officer then really.

“It doesn’t matter to me. As long as you mean it.” He pushed back. He knew it was there. If you would just allow it.

It was silent for another long moment. As if he could hear the gears in your head spinning, trying to come up with something that would let you properly escape from this call.

And then you just said it still with the intonation of a question. “My boyfriend?”

Doflamingo bit his lip to stifle the almost helpless laugh that wanted to come from him. Yes, he’d teased you with that briefly last time. But he didn’t expect you to latch onto it when there were so many better terms. You either had no imagination at all or were still too goddamn innocent. Were you even serious?

To fight like you did and fuck like you did, but to still say something like that as if it was really suitable for a god.

“Fine, if that’s the best you can do.” This had to start somewhere. “Your boyfriend’s hanging up now so your sexy ass can get back to sea tomorrow and come find me. Don’t fuck any sailors. I’ll be waiting.”

He heard your surprise at what he’d called you then. But you didn’t hesitate for long as you answered in renewed attitude. “Then keep yours wrapped with your ‘playdates’ at least if you expect it raw again in Scylla.”

“Bitch, I always wrap it with the pool girls or when getting some strange. But you aren’t either of those things.” He spat back just as fast, though smirking at that realization that maybe it had bothered you when he hadn’t fussed with any condoms yet.

In all honesty, he just hadn’t wanted to. You’d had him so fired up both times. A calculated risk, but Mariejois was so long ago really. He’d been checked since then. He knew you were clean and you’d stay that way unless you decided to cheat on him. And woe be unto you if he had to find out that way.

He did use protection normally though. Whether you believed that or not.

“Pool girls? Nice. I’m sure they’re lovely.” You sighed.

“They are. But one true kick from you and they’d be eating out of a feeding tube I’m sure.” He nearly purred.

“I…if you think this is how to flirt.” You stammered.

“Sounds like it’s working.” He goaded.

“Fuck you.”

“I just did.” He was laughing. Finally he’d pushed the right button then. So of course he hit it immediately again with that gem.

And that’s when you gave up. The futility evident to you. “Good night, asshole.”

“Good night, woman. See you in Scylla.” He finished chuckling in return. Before the snail clicked with the final end of the call.

Doflamingo did groan afterward though, a tired yet conceited smile twisting across his face as he spoke back into the new silence. “Well how was that for you, you eavesdropping bastards?”

And never disappointing him in their equal lack of decorum, the other snail perked back up immediately, coming off the mute it had been on all this time.

It was Diamante’s voice that answered first, no shame in it at all. “Giolla went and got the wine. We’ve been having a nice drink, Doffy, while you courted that female. That was entertaining.”

“You should have heard her the other night,” Doflamingo mused, thinking another drink sounded pretty good actually as he tucked his now soft length back into his pants. He didn’t bother to retie the waist though, reaching out for the bourbon bottle again.

He didn’t feel like fighting with it and the glass together anymore though, just drinking straight from the bottle this time. The burn felt good in his throat before he set the bottle back down, legs still spread.

“I’m going to have to blow some more berri though. Goddamn, this woman keeps costing me money. I don’t even know what houses are going for in Scylla these days either.” Renting was out of the question. He wouldn’t pay others just to be allowed onto their property and be told to abide by their rules while doing so.

“Oh, but young master, it’ll be carnival season then too!” And there was Giolla again, still sounding fully invested, albeit a little less loud at least. As if the wine was already working on her.

“Fuck…seriously?” Doflamingo sighed. He hadn’t even thought of that. Try almost three times the price for villas right now then.

“But the dances, the masks, the fireworks!” She responded. “What a clever little marine to ask for such scenery for a romantic rendezvous. Why I remember being a young girl during carnival…but never there. Though they say Scylla’s scale absolutely puts Water 7’s plebeian festivities to shame.”

He wondered if you’d had any idea about this plan falling during carnival either. You hadn’t mentioned it at least. Though there was a whole lot of things carnival masks could help with the more he thought of it. And he would know.

Between his smile and his glasses, he absolutely lived beneath a mask already. But you didn’t. With one of your own, how much more would you open up for him in public without the fear of being recognized by your peers?

He took another swig of the bourbon straight from the bottle then. This night was now over for accomplishing much else. “Put some money back into the real estate account in the morning.” He instructed. “At least four times what we made in that last weapons sell off. I guess I’m going house shopping this week.”

“Yes, Doffy,” Trebol and Diamante answered nearly simultaneously, not at all questioning the fiscal irresponsibility of their captain’s ever changing whims. If anything they sounded eager at the new opportunity.

Because they knew that he was.

Someone to be this serious about was something he’d wanted for long enough.

——————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

——————————

Thanks for reading!

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graveyard-cuddles · 3 months

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If you attack ascended Astarion at the epilogue party as a mindflayer, all the rest of the companions will join in the attack with you. Which doesn't make a ton of sense from my perspective because frankly, they should all be just as scared of mindflayer Tav as they are of ascended Astarion, if not even more so. Let's just be real and admit that Astarion, as "mean" as he is when he breaks up with mindflayer Tav, is 100% correct. Tav is not Tav anymore. Ilithids don't have souls. They're not a person anymore. And Tav can prove it by attacking him out of the blue at a peaceful-ass gathering. Even Astarion with how cruel and egotistical he becomes when ascended is still more "human" than a mindflayer because he at least retains his soul and personality, as warped as it becomes. That's all besides the point, though.

My main point it I just find it weird how so many so-called Astarion "fans" revile in this scene and find it so funny how Astarion "gets his comeuppance" in this scene or whatever. And I don't know about anyone else, but I find this scene incredibly sad and tragic. Both Astarion and Tav have lost themselves completely (Tav even more so than Astarion, I would argue). And it kinda baffles me how so few fans of Astarion can see how much he's clearly hurting here as well?

He claims he hasn't thought about Tav in the past 6 months, and he delivers the line in a way that is clearly meant to sting as much as possible. People point to that moment as a "gotcha" moment that Astarion genuinely doesn't miss Tav. But he then immediately contradicts this a few sentences later when he says thinks all the time about what could have been if they had stayed his consort and never became a mindflayer. And that all his power is nothing without Tav by his side (paraphrasing).

"OH he's just manipulating Tav" why would he say anything that would make him look weak or vulnerable? If anything, he should be bragging about how GREAT he's doing without Tav. How awesome his life as a vampire lord is without them. And at first he does just that, the first half of the conversation is all bragging. But the longer he talks to them, the more the little hurtful truths slip out behind the hateful words. Like for as much as fans claim to understand that Astarion will often say one thing but mean another some of them sure are shit at being able to tell when he's clearly covering up his hurt with vitriol.

And again there's something weird about cheering on mindflayer Tav when their turn can be considered just as tragic as Astarion ascending. Like don't get me wrong I enjoy letting a monster do their thing. But it's like this weird double standard where mindflayer Tav's monstrosity is good and cool to idolize and joke about them wanting to eat the brains of their friends but the second someone has fantasies about being Astarion's consort they need to be psychoanalyzed.

And it's also ridiculous that if you even so much as suggest that hey, maybe there's more going on with ascended Astarion than meets the eye, maybe he actually is suffering in his isolation, ect. you get called a delusional idiot because people just really want to believe Astarion is truly a 100% different person from his ascended self when that's simply. not. true. Again the writers have confirmed the ritual didn't consume his soul. The ritual amplified all his worst personality traits that he already had.

I'm not saying you need to love ascended Astarion BUT if you love his character for what he is you should be able to at least appreciate him. You should be able to at least find him tragic and compelling. Kinda annoyed that many fans, who are seemingly uncomfortable with being confronted with this side of him, would rather turn him into a big joke or reduce his full spectrum of emotion to just "smug apathy."

#just to be clear im NOT saying ascended astarion = good #im saying ascended astarion = complex #bg3 #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #ascended astarion #tavstarion #astarion x tav #astarion meta #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 spoilers #bg3 act 3 spoilers

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creedslove · 9 months

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HEARTLESS 💔 - PART ELEVEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: You try to figure out your feelings for Jack and realize it's not a smart move to do so while drunk and flirting with him, when he thinks things are improving, he gets a harsh evidence things aren't just as easy as he thought

(this is the eleventh chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO TEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, more fluff because Wyatt is the sweetest kid in the world, bitchy mother-in-law, angst, sad!jack, mom!reader

A/N: Hi besties, I know it's been a while since we've seen our cowboy, and well, I hope you enjoy it!!! I know I did because I can't resist this mf, he's just perfect even if he's a broken sad cowboy 😭🤠

4k words

Jack's heart was beating probably too fast in his chest, it hammered against his rib cage but he didn't care. He was feeling like a million bucks, as he was finally getting some crumbles of your love. Nothing more than crumbles, but it was already enough for him, better than suffering with your despise and indifference. In a short span of minutes you two had almost kissed - if it weren't for his former mother-in-law, and you had also referred to Wyatt as your son. Your as in him and yours, and that couldn't make him happier at that moment, it might have seemed something small, but it made the difference in that cowboy's old broken heart, it was like the walls you built were falling down and that he could approach you, even if it wasn't in a romantic way, he still felt satisfied to be around you as friends, at least he could talk to you without having to break the ice all the time, he touch you - small hugs, occasional hand holding - and though he yearned for more, it was the best he would get after everything he'd done, so it was good, he'd rather torture himself by having his family close without actually being able to claim them as his, than suffer completely alone like he'd done for the past years.

He smiled at you, seeing how your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol and patted his pocket finally finding the car keys and handing them to you

"Go ahead sugar, you're less drunk than I am, you should be driving" he winked at you and chuckled as you widened your eyes the moment you grabbed the Bronco keys. Ever since you first started dating Jack, you dreamed of driving his Bronco, but as the cocky asshole he often was, he never let you - or anyone else really - drive his car. There were some things Jack was just so territorial and wouldn't let anyone to lie their hands on, and well, you were also one of those things once. Jack was possessive of you, he liked showing people you were his and just his, the way he would hold you, kiss you and make everyone else see who you belonged to.

And in your drunken state as you two exited the bar, you kinda wished Jack would do it again. Just a few minutes ago you were about to kiss each other and now he watched you, and you watched him back, staring into his eyes, getting lost in them, and taking a real look at your Jack…. He was so handsome, his beautiful side profile was enough to make you weak at the knees, his sharp jawline always so smooth as he kept his beard shaved and his mustache trimmed. Any other man would look stupid with Jack's looks, but your cowboy… he was something else.

"What?" He asked you, grinning with that devilish smile as you wouldn't stop staring

"I-" you began to talk but you had a better idea - well, not really a better idea, rather a drunk idea - and took the hat off his head, chuckling at how cute his messy hair looked and put it on your head.

Jack was shocked for a split second. Were you flirting with him?

"Did you forget about the cowboy hat rule, sugar?" He raised his eyebrow at you and before you could answer, you tripped and nearly fell, but Jack immediately wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him. Maybe you weren't less drunk than he was after all, so it was safer if you two just got a cab to your mom's.

Leaving the bar and waiting for a cab on the sidewalk wasn't the greatest idea either, the wind was howling and you were shivering, and both you and Jack knew that if it weren't for Wyatt, the wisest option would be getting a fancy hotel room and spending the night.

If you hadn't drunk as much as you did that night, you would be probably censoring yourself for having those shameless thoughts about him, giggling at the shit he said, pretending you didn't notice you were still clinging to him even after you got your balance back, after all, you were wearing his hat, for crying out loud! He was the same man who didn't accept your pregnancy, that kicked you out of your home and abandoned you to raise your baby alone, and once he came back, he just brought chaos back into your life, for several times he'd hurt you, told you cruel things and even threatened to take your son away from you. It was so wrong to behave like that, and a part of your brain kept repeating that over and over, while the other part seemed to only listen to your heart, taking you back to your sweetest and hottest memories you had shared at that same bar and in those hotel rooms.It would be easier if you could just blame it on the booze, as if having a few too many changed everything about your personality and made you forget about all the pain Jack caused you. But at the same time, it felt like you were in the presence of your Jack, the cowboy you loved, the one that was so sweet, flirty and gentle with you. The man that was a little cocky at first but he also made you feel like the only girl in the world, the one who would ravish you in bed and make your legs shake but would also hold you and cuddle you until you fell asleep. You two had an awkward encounter at first, you went on a date with your new boyfriend and Jack was waiting for his own date, you'd been so jealous of him and if you wondered if he'd been jealous of you, now you were sure of it, and that made you feel pretty good about yourself.

Perhaps it was the way Jack was humiliated by the girl he was supposed to have a date with, the one that revealed herself to be another agent and nothing more, or maybe how he was so honest about the disaster he called his last mission and how things escalated from a fun, drunk conversation, into a confession of dark thoughts Jack didn't have the courage to share with anyone, not even his therapist. All that helped you to see your sweet old cowboy in those man's cold eyes, and when you stared into them, you realized they weren't cold anymore, they were warm and soft and that was when you were sure your Jack was back.

ou were just so tired of restricting yourself all the time, you were also tired of people restricting you as well, always talking about how bad Jack Daniels was and how you shouldn't let him in. It was your mom, your friends, even Frankie had told you Jack was a dick, and though you knew they were all correct, you felt tired of being reminded of that the entire time, at least your own thoughts were private and in them you could allow yourself to surrender completely to your cowboy, because God knew that if he tried to make any move on you, you'd let him.

Instead, you felt when his suit jacket was placed over your shoulders and he smiled down at you "don't want you to freeze, sugar" he winked as now you were wearing his jacket, his hat and you kept your arm wrapped tight around his waist, and you felt lucky that despite everything, Jack was still a gentleman, because any other guy would have interpreted all those signs wrong - actually correct, because you did want it - but he knew you'd had too much alcohol for that, even if he knew that once you sobered up he would've missed his chance of having you again.

He opened the door so you would get in the cab and immediately joined you, giving your mother's address to the driver. You smiled and decided you wouldn't fight your urges, not that night, feeling safe knowing Jack would respect your boundaries and you wouldn't do anything that would hurt your boyfriend - that's what you told yourself at least - and as soon as Jack sat next to you, you wrapped your arm around him and rested against his chest. You were aware of how ridiculous you probably looked, a cowboy hat, a jacket that was way too big for you, and snuggling the man you swore you hated just a day before. Jack was caught by surprise, but smiled softly as he wrapped his arm around your body, stroking your back up and down.

"Sugar, I was thinking about our little boy's birthday, and I would like to throw him a party on our ranch" he cleared his throat "well, my ranch, but it's gonna be yours too one day, you know, when I-"

"Don't say that Jack" you asked him, looking into his eyes, "please… I have something to ask you" you bit your lips

"Anything you want, sugar"

"Don't kill yourself on another mission, Jack, please. You have our son, and our son needs his daddy too"

Jack's heart melted at your lovely words, he'd longed to be accepted into the family just like that and now it was finally happening.

"I won't, sugar… I got our family to take care of, even if you don't want me, you're still my responsibility and I'll make sure you're safe" his hand went for your face caressing your soft skin so gently, appreciating how it felt under his rough fingertips, you closed your eyes, leaning towards his touch and gently placing your lips on his chin, as you spread a trail of soft kisses all over his jawline before getting to his lips. Jack's breath got caught in his chest, his body overflowing with love as his hands squeezed you tighter against him, getting ready to deepen the kiss when the driver suddenly pulled up the car.

"We're here" the man announced which quickly snapped the two of you out of the haze you were both deep into.

You cleared your throat and blushed and Jack licked his lips, getting his wallet and paying for the ride.

He helped out of the car and kept his hand on the small of your back, escorting you, like the southern gentleman he was. You two entered the building and took the elevator and suddenly you could see Jack tensing up. It was no secret your mom hated him, from the very beginning, even before things went to shit between the two of you. There was something she just couldn't stand about him, maybe the fact he was older, or that he'd been married before, or his manners - despite the fact Jack was a polite man, she still didn't think it was enough. She couldn't stand him and he reciprocated the feeling. During his first marriage, he could never understand all those mother-in-law jokes and why people often said they were as bad as they often did. His first wife's mom was a delight, a sweet woman who treated Jack like a son.

No wonder he kept in touch with her through all the years after his sweetheart passed away, until her lovely mother joined her beloved daughter in heaven; but it was your mom that made Jack learn why so many people talked about mother-in-laws in such a derogatory way. She hated Jack, she did from the start, and he had no other option than to accept and try his hardest to ignore her constant offenses and provocations. So now, he didn't even want to think of what your mom thought of him after Wyatt was born.

As if you read Jack's thoughts, you touched his cheek, making him look at you

"It's alright cowboy, if she starts acting out, we'll just leave, don't worry" you assured him and took a deep breath and got yourself back together as the doors opened and you walked to your mom's apartment.

She'd left the door unlocked - something Whiskey strongly disapproved of for safety matters, of course, after all he was an agent and knew people should be way more careful than they were - and the two of you walked inside. Your mom had Wyatt on her lap, he sniffed as she tried wiping his tears, but his teary eyes were enough evidence she wasn't able to succeed.

"What happened baby?" You rushed to him, a sad expression immediately took your face as your heart tightened in your chest to see your little boy so upset. Wyatt jumped off his grandma's lap, widening eyes and a growing smile on his handsome little face

"Mama! Dada!" He squealed happily and ran towards you and Jack, who knelt just beside you and also opened his arms to welcome him. Wyatt ran to the two of you, feeling the warmth of the safety in being with both his parents, snuggling you both as best as his little arms could reach before looking at you with amusement and adoration at the sight of you with the hat on "cowboy hat mama! Like dada and mine!" He said happily and pointed at the stetson you'd stolen from Jack and grabbed it, placing it on your son's head seeing the happiness in his little eyes.

Jack chuckled and picked him up "well it ain't my favorite little cowboy?" He felt the way Wyatt's arms wrapped around his neck and his heart broke a little to think he could have that every day after coming back from work "were you nice to grandma?" Wyatt saw as his dada raised his eyebrow and immediately nodded, he had behaved well even if grandma's house wasn't fun. Whiskey smiled and tickled his tummy, earning the most lovely giggles from his little boy.

Your mom shot you the dirtiest look the moment she caught Jack walking into the apartment, but you couldn't care less about it, so you turned your back to her and gave your son attention.

"What happened to you, love? Grandma said you were upset?" You tilted your head curious to know what could've possibly bothered your son.

Wyatt looked down and then at his grandma again, unsure if he should say anything at all or not. Jack gently wiped a single tear that ran down his son's beautiful face "it's okay Wyatt, sometimes cowboys get sad too, it ain't a shame to cry, but we can't make our mamas worried, cowboy mamas don't like to be worried about their little cowboys…" he tried reasoning his son, who let out a small giggle at his dad's fun words.

"Bad dweam mama. Mama was gone and dada was gone" he explained "told gwandma but gwandma said I have no dada because dada no wove Wyatt"

Jack closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying his best to keep his anger in check, as he shot daggers at his former mother-in-law. He couldn't believe that old bitch had the nerve to say that. Yes, Jack had been a shitty father for the first years of his son's life, but he was back in the picture and there wasn't anyone that old broken cowboy loved more than his son, and his son's mother.

He gently held his son's chin, finding fascinating the contrast between his big, calloused hands on his son's perfect, small face. Jack's thumb stroked his cheek

"Your dada loves you very much Wyatt. More than anything in the world, and I know I wasn't around for you and mama and that made mama sad, but I'll always be with you two" he pecked his son's forehead and threw his small blanket over his back. Jack's arm snaked around your waist pulling you closer "let's get the two of you home" he informed, ignoring your mom who was speechless to see you so cozy next to him. Wyatt snuggled his dad's neck and closed his eyes, his heart was warm with love and reassurance.

•••

As the three of you walked into your apartment, Wyatt was deeply asleep in his father's arms. You smiled to see how Wyatt still his jammies under the blanket and how quick he was able to calm down thanks to Jack. He followed your instructions to tuck Wyatt in and as soon as he came back, with his stetson in hands, you handed him a glass of water "I'm really sorry about my mom… I didn't know she would say something like that. She doesn't like you obviously, but we just always avoided talking about a father figure to Wyatt so we wouldn't break his little heart" Jack nodded in silence "I told her you were back in the picture and that you and I were working to be on good terms, you know, co-parent and be friends… She said it was a bad idea but didn't say anything else, I just didn't think she would be mean to the point of telling her own grandson this shit" you sniffed and Jack pulled you into a tight hug. His hands ran up and down your back, resting his chin on your head

"It's alright sugar, none of this is your fault. You've been perfect from day one. You've been perfect to me and you were the best girlfriend in the world and you would've been the best wife too, if I hadn't screwed things up… I was so scared, I know it doesn't justify and it never will, but I was scared of trying to build a family and losing it like the first time. I was so deep in my own fears that I hadn't realized I was about to make the worst mistake of my life. I'm really sorry I did this to you, because you had nothing but love to offer me, while I offered you the second place because I was too blind by my grief, but now I see, now that I'm going to therapy, that I'm trying to fix myself, I see that I was scared of letting go of her, of her memory, I was scared I was going to betray her. Until I finally saw that was madness, sugar, because she is gone, she's a beautiful memory and I'll always carry her and our son in a part of my heart, but they belong in the past. I see now you're the love of my life, you've always been, I was just too blind to see it, and I lost you, but I promise I won't grieve you, I'll be here, strong and alive for you and Wyatt, if there's ever a chance of a future with you, even if all I get is visiting on weekends I'll still take it. Nothing will ever change the monstrous thing I did to you, but I want you to know I regret it for the rest of my life"

Your breath was shaking as you look up at him, you could feel the emotion in his voice, the truth in them and the tears in his eyes.

"Stay tonight Jack, please… not to have sex, but I want you here" it was all you could offer him and it was already a big deal, the two of you knew it and he only nodded happily, his hand caressing your skin.

"I'll stay for as long as you want me sugar…"

•••

In the early morning, you woke up to find yourself alone in bed. Jack took his southern manners to the letter and after you fell asleep in his arms, he changed to the couch, so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable. You sighed as your head pounded after drinking so hard the night before, sighing as you remembered everything that went on. The things you shouldn't have done, for example flirt with your ex the whole time, kiss him and wearing his hat and especially ask him to stay the night, because now you'd have to deal with the fact the man was humming happily in your kitchen making you breakfast as a loving husband would.

You got out of bed and groaned in pain once more, cursing under your breath as you spotted a glass of water and an aspirin. Fuck, Jack was making it very hard for you to hate him.

The man, on the other hand, was pouring his heart into the meal he was preparing. There were two things little Jack Daniela learned from his mama: breakfast was the most important meal of the day and that the best ingredient one could add is love.

The moment he saw you walking inside the kitchen, his face lit up, glad to know Wyatt was still deeply asleep, so he would have some time alone with you. He placed the frying pan down, flipping the last pancake and walked to you.

"Morning, sugar" he said in a happy voice as he got closer and leaned in to kiss your lips, but you immediately turned your face away, avoiding his kiss as you looked down.

"Listen Jack, we need to talk… I'm sorry about last night, I know I led you the wrong way, I flirted and kissed but it was wrong and it shouldn't have happened" you said without much conviction in your voice, as if you were trying to convince yourself more than him, so you cleared your throat and continued "we can't be together, I know you're trying, Jack, you're becoming a better man, but I have a boyfriend now and you will always be the man who abandoned me and our son" you sighed sadly "I was just giving into my desires…"

Jack immediately gripped your hips, pulling you closer, a desperate look on his face, he was hurt and you could see it in his eyes

"Desire, that's the right word, sugar. You desire me, you want me, why do you still deny it? We love each other" he said, stroking your cheek, swallowing hard and giving you the saddest eyes you'd ever seen. "We can be a happy family… you, me, our son and if you want to we can even try for a little girl, I promise I'll be around, I want to be a husband to you and a father to our son…"

"You're out of your mind, Jack, I would never be with you again, I would never be crazy to let you get me pregnant again! You made me go away! You told me to get rid of my son! I've fallen for you once, but I won't anymore. Yes, I had desire for you, because you are the kind of guy that's good for a drunk fuck and nothing else, Jack. I had to learn the hard way guys like you are meant to be fucked and guys like Frankie are meant to be married"

Jack immediately let go of your body, looking down in shame and sniffed, nodding and turning his back to you. Jack's pride was hurt, and his heart was shattered. He knew you would take your distance once you sobered up, but he didn't think you would regress so much. You were back at fighting and accusing each other, and he was tired of that.

"Mama! Dada!" Wyatt squealed happily as he watched his mommy and daddy in the kitchen, his small tummy growling with hunger at the delicious smell.

"Dada, you made pancakes for me? Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He squealed adorably and jumped into Jack's arms, who held his son tight against his chest, snuggling him, and pecked his son's cheek gently, you knew Jack was a fearless man when he was on his missions, but now, he avoided staring at you, so you wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill out of his beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

You didn't even know why you'd said that, but you needed to make sure Jack would keep his hands to himself, you didn't want to be a fool for the second time and he had no right to try and seduce you with a baby talk. Jack wasn't meant to be a father and you'd been nice enough to let him be around Wyatt. On the other hand, you had never thought of marrying Frankie, that made no sense, all you knew was that you wanted to hurt Jack and it seemed like you achieved your goal.

_____

A/N: How dare reader say those things to Jack??? Why can't they be together already 😭😭😭😭

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