#so yeah I do not act that way on purpose but if I know that someone is looking weirdly at me because I'm doing something that doesn't sits

[spicyclover]

No one can hurt you

Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2.  WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE

DISCLAIMER:  This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.

You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.

“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass. 

“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused. 

“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.

“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”

“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard. 

“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine. 

“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.

“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar. 

“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.

“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.

“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him. 

“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.

“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”

“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.

“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation. 

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.

You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.

“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes. 

“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.

“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.

“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently. 

“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.

Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back. 

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar. 

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos. 

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away. 

“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.

“Nothing.” 

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.

“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible. 

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out. 

You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights. 

The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite. 

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off. 

Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude. 

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself. 

You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go. 

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful. 

Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day? 

Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.

The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.

Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you. 

You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you. 

Then comes the darkness.

When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby. 

You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.

In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.

You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.

Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.

Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.

He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky. 

He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.

“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice. 

He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses. 

A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room. 

The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.

Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.

The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.

It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.

“Hello?”

You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.

You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.

You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.

You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation. 

You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.

You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.

You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.

Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.

You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.

Quiet. 

Reserved. 

Pretty. 

In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.

To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.

To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely. 

To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.

To be pretty. 

To be pretty. 

To be. 

Silent is all you ask for. 

It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.

The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.

Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.

The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.

Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?

“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?” 

“Cha... we have to go.”

“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.

“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.

Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son. 

“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm. 

He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.

On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.

Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?

Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.

Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?

The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.

That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.

Then... you breathe.

Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.

You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

______________________________________________________________

Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3

Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #charles #charles leclerc sad #charles leclerc x you

[jemmo]

i can’t tell you how much i usually hate these ignoring, distancing plots in shows and how much i absolutely adore everything about these 2 episodes of the eighth sense. like im not having a good time, and it’s fantastic.

bc the thing is, in all of this, i can’t see the right way to go, i can’t find the person to blame, i can’t find the way to make it better. I can’t single out a single moment or a thing someone did and say “this is why everything went wrong”. it’s just this coming together and rise and swell of things happening and people feeling things that has us ending up here and it feels beautifully and horribly organic bc we can’t find that point where it all went wrong. was it on that rooftop? was it at the beach? was it when they first met? was it when his brother died? was it when he was born into this family? there is no single point. it’s all of them and it’s none of them. there is truly nothing and no one to blame. and there are bad characters in the show, people you can hate, eunji and taehyung, but neither of them are to blame for any of the bad stuff that happens in the show. you’re not waiting for them to be taken down bc that doesn’t solve anything. instead, it’s just two people hurting, and not knowing how to make it better.

bc you take jaewon, and after what he says at the end of ep 8, you want to hate him, you want to be so angry at him for what he says, for how he acts, how dismissive and hurtful he is, and yet you’ve been made to understand 100% why, and not just in a “i get it but that wasn’t the right thing to do” way, in a “that was horrible and yet i know he doesn’t see any other way to handle this” way. like you don’t see this as a misstep, or a step to far, bc you know for him, in his state of mind, it is completely justified, it’s necessary. bc it not only punishes the person he blames for all of this, himself, but he sees it as a way to protect jihyun. and not even in a cliche “bad things happen when people around me, the people I love always get hurt” kinda way, but more so in that he sees that he is a scared, messy, struggling person that doesn’t know how to handle himself, and doesn’t want to inflict that on anyone, let alone the person he cares about. so what’s worse, a quick, swift blow that hurts but cuts everything off cleanly, or this prolonged relationship where he inevitably continues to weigh jihyun down with the weight of his trauma, and take it out on him. what’s the point of having a place of refuge when you ruin it more and more every time you depend on it, until it eventually can’t offer you comfort. it’s a lesser of two evils, jaewon’s choice is obvious to him.

but then you take jihyun. and we talk about masks and fronts but we never once question whether jihyun wears a mask bc he appears so sweet and innocent and naive, what can this boy possibly be putting up a front for. but i see it, this almost fake it till you make it confidence front that yes is becoming more natural. but my god just think about what he’s gone through for a second. think about it. left home for the first time in his life, moved to an unfamiliar and intimidating city with only one other person he knows, started a new job, started university, tried to build relationships, met a man that intrigues him, and perused him only to be kissed and then ignored, then maybe establish something tentative, only to then see him spiral, go on a trip where he shared his trauma, you have an intimate night together only to almost die, and then be not only ignored, but plain and simple rejected and pushed away. like… you can say all you want about jihyun growing as a person and having more courage, but no amount of growth for however many months this has been going on for can prepare you for that. for the mixed messages on steroids. for the back and forth, not knowing. to give yourself to someone like that and go through something traumatic and then be abandoned by that person. we get it, bc we see all of jaewon’s story. but apart from what jaewon shared at the beach, jihyun doesn’t know any more than that. he doesn’t know about therapy, about how his father acts towards him, about the extent of his trauma and how it manifests and affects his mental health, and how he is struggling every single day. and you can’t expect him to know the depths of that no matter how empathetic and connected he is, how much he cares about jaewon, he can’t be superhuman. and so you get why he pushes and fights for jaewon. like… he is in love. it’s clear. he’s fallen in love with him. he is this wide-eyed, open kid that fell in love with a senior. and jaewon has just messed with his head, he’s never been clear, and you can’t expect jihyun to just get past that bc he knows something is up with jaewon. he can’t know the full story, but even if he did, that can’t be a reason or a justification to be treated the way jaewon treats him. bc we’re all about jaewon putting himself first and doing what he wants and respecting himself like that, but jihyun deserves that too. and it’s such a fine line to tread when you know someone is going through something, bc again you understand why, but you’re still the one being treated that way. like we talk about jaewon’s trauma, but here jihyun was part of it, he went through that traumatic experience. he’s the one that nearly lost his life. and yes, he appears to handle it well, and no matter to what extent that’s true or not, you can’t not look at jaewon struggling and understand it and then not look at jihyun with that same understanding. it’s not about comparing trauma and pain and deciding who is suffering more, it’s seeing that there are two people in this, and they’ve both been affected, so we should give them the same level of understanding.

and that’s something jaewon has to see. that his self-preservation is selfish. that his destructive behavior doesn’t just affect jihyun, instead it feels pointed and directed, bc every way jaewon hurts himself hurts jihyun. and it comes bc jihyun was so much of what was good about jaewon’s life for a second, so attacking that is his only form of self-sabotage. he can’t mess up his relationship with his friends or parents bc they were broken in the first place, and he can’t sabotage his future bc it’s already been ruined the moment he didn’t pursue his photography major. him nearly getting kicked out of school affected him so little not just bc he wanted that punishment, but bc even that punishment meant so little to him. all these things are established and they already contribute to his suffering. removing jihyun from his life is the only active thing he can do to make himself feel worse, and he can veil it in an act of protection, and even feel like he’s doing the right thing, but that deceives them both into believing this is done from a good place, when no good can actually come of it. in trying to protect jihyun, you hurt him more. in trying to hurt yourself, you hurt him too. and when someone is in a headspace like jaewon is, you look for that thing that’ll break through. bc he is so distant, he’s trying to remove himself from reality, and jihyun needs to act as this person that can anchor him to it. when you’re trying to isolate and separate yourself, sometimes seeing that you still affect things, that there’s a persons that exists that is affected and hurt by your actions, and no matter how you try to cut yourself off, you cannot stop that, separating yourself still hurts them, maybe that’s a thing that can get through. but that’s something that depends on jaewon. ultimately, he’s the only one that can get himself out of this place, and that’s what makes it so hard, that no matter how much jihyun cares and how much he fights for him, nothing can come of that effort is jaewon doesn’t meet him there. and it’d be so easy for jihyun to give in, to take the hurt, but over the course of this show we’ve seen the strength jihyun has developed, which has only seemed to increase more so after the accident, call it a renewed vigor for life or something. he has the strength that jaewon doesn’t, to not let his pain consume him. and in a beautiful full-circle moment, it’s because of jaewon, bc when they first spoke he sparked in jihyun a want to be stronger, to be more than the country mouse, and he’s done it. and it’s that courage that means he can fight for jaewon, even in the face of rejection. he trusts himself and that he knows jaewon, the real jaewon, to see past words that are intended to hurt them both, and go after the person that’s still inside jaewon somewhere. no, he can’t do it for him, and no them being together is not some magical cure for jaewon, but it’s what can put him on a path of caring for himself again, and sometimes that has to start with caring about someone else (and suddenly I’m reminded of my beautiful man 2 and how kiyoi tries to break hira out of his worthless mindset by making him care about him, and how ultimately that can’t be enough, and that hira has to take those first steps of seeing his self worth by himself). what jihyun can do by fighting is again act as that tether to reality and try to be this representation of the good jaewon can be and do. bc look at jihyun, look at how confident and strong he has become, and look at how he got there, bc you saw that country mouse and gave him the time of day and helped him grow and gave him new experiences. you jaewon, you. and that shift in mindset, from jihyun representing hurt and the accident and the trauma of his brother and everything he can’t do, to being that light and refuge and everything he can do is again something that might breaks through. and the fact it has such narrative strength and satisfaction makes me hopeful that that’s what we might actually get.

#I did a rant #I’ve done a lot of rants actually they’re all just sitting in my notes bc they all got a little too much #my thoughts are a literal mess and I am still struggling to put them in all the right words #mostly bc the way jaewon is behaving and not to be too overinvolved is very reminiscent of *me* #and so watching him shut down and remove himself knowing it’s something i do is hard and frustrating #and I did a whole rant about it but I realised I need to separate myself from the character to be able to talk about it #so yeah #I really wanted to bring up jihyun tho #bc he presents as so strong in these two eps but you cannot argue against what he’s been through and the effect that would have on anyone #and try to see it from a perspective where we don’t know what jaewon is going through and just see his actions and realise how much he has #messed with jihyun again not at all on purpose but that 1000 to nothing jihyun went through from the trip to the accident and it’s aftermath #that’s a fucking lot #and it’s interesting that we talk so much about people putting themselves first and not putting up with shit #like I think of simon from young royals and how we celebrate him saying no to being willhelms secret as an act of self-respect #but bc we understand and empathise so much with what jaewon is going through it’s hard to make yourself even consider jihyun #but when you do see it from his side you realise it’s a lot for him too #and that you wouldn’t hate him or misunderstand him if he was mad at jaewon #and with *spoliers* is there only so much he can take of jaewon’s self sabotage hurting him until even he and his developed strength and #confidence is broken by it #he can only keep fighting for jaewon for so long and idk if it’s gonna be a case of jaewon coming round too little too late #but I just hope this isn’t easy which sounds mean I don’t want either of them to suffer more #but this isn’t a kiss and get back together and all is good #I think jaewon needs to see the bad he’s caused #bc it’s only by owning up to that that he can ground himself in the moment and see that he’s part of this world and can’t separate himself #from it and jihyun also needs to realise that no matter his headspace jaewon does want space and when someone is self sabotaging you still #have to listen and respect what they’re saying distance means distance and as much as you want to fight against it you can’t be responsible #for making it work #agh I need to stop rambling bc it’s so messy and complex and I just absolutely ADORE the level to which this situation has so many emotional #moving parts and how ultimately blameless they both are and how it makes it so much harder to see a way out it’s fantastic #the eighth sense

[hella1975]

no bc like. trk is SO hard to read. like. Thanksgiving. That SceneTM. boy. i read aftg in a single week when i was fifteen and i regret doing it at that age so much bc MAN that was a hard couple scenes to read

right?????? and there's nothing inherently wrong with writing scenes like that i just always think nora misses the mark with how it's handled. like even AFTER that reveal in trk about What Happened To Andrew And Why He Acts The Way He Does, he still gets treated as some soulless maniac? and that's so damaging to any victims reading that also - god forbid - dared to respond to that trauma in a 'bad' way

#i havent read trk literally since the first time i read it at FOURTEEN so i know this time will be worse bc ill understand it more #idk ive said it before and ill say it again the thing i love MOST about andrew is how 'extreme' his response to his trauma was #and by that i mean he actually had a very natural reaction but because he didnt do the coming-of-age broody love interest thing #of embracing '<3 peace and love and the power of friendship <3' in order to get better #his reactions are therefore labelled extreme & by a lot of the fandom too. like even andrew stans tend to write him off as uwu psychopath #like NO! he went through HORROR and decided TO HIS OWN DETRIMENT that if anyone crossed his 'extreme' boundaries #ever again then he'd fucking gut them. and he stuck to it with no fucks given for if it made him a 'monster' #and seeing that written is INCREDIBLE #regardless of how off the mark nora was like i know she did that by pure fucking accident #no way she has the respect for andrew's character to have done it on purpose #but yeah i just love andrew a lot he means a lot to me like even if i was too young when i first read aftg i still dont regret it #just bc of how much andrew and his mindset stayed with me and how important it is #so yeah im TERRIFIED for my raven king reread bc it's THE let's traumatise andrew book and idk if i can handle that again #<- acting like im being held at gunpoint to reread it when it is entirely my choice LMFAO #ask #aftg

[5hrignold]

nobody really mentions this when talking about the brazil ep but it’s like one of my favourite things about it The fact that it’s probably gonna be the only episode forever where the main 4 critters are together for the entire time without seperating to do their own thing its just made special to me because of how rare and special it is while being such a mundane thing that isn’t even at all spectacular outside of the shows view

#ive decided pretty much all im going to be doing until may 12th is just rewatching sf as many times as i can #which includes the 9 eps we already had AND s2e1 and all the official stuff we have of the rest of s2 as of rn #which im like certain we’re gonna get more of . maybe. maybe the episode 2 teaser will be the only one actually #also another one of my fav things about the brazil special is the way pim is voiced #i havent watched kinda any of his other things so i dont know How true this is but #in my eyes michael cusack is such a crazy good voice actor idk how to word it he just captures emotions so viscerally #and i just Love pim’s voice especially idk if it’s favouritism but iwloveeeee how he can go from sounding like an actual like kids show- #protagonist like a completely extraordinary whimsical excited voice to just a normal sorta deadpan speaking voice #Like thats my favourite thing. did you know i love pim so much #but yeah i particularly love his voice acting in that episode bc it captures that well and also how nervous and genuinely guilty he sounds #Purposely rambling bc im sad ok ay bye

[lesbianyosano]

you guys ever go to bsd twitter just to remember how good we have it here

#i dont use twitter but i have an account mostly for stealing bsd raws when new chapters are out #anyway went there bc i was reading a fic and the author linked their account #there wasnt anything crazy bad there btw but my brother in christ bsd tumblr is such a good place to hang out #'why is there such a pressure to not write characters ooc do you not want to see them in different scenarios' i dont think you know what ooc #means btw #yeah adjusting how a character acts tor the purpose of writing a story far removed for canon is great #exploring who they might be in this other universe in widły different circumstances is so so fun #but ignoring and misinterpreting them is such bizzare behaviour to me #esp that even when reading au’s you can just. still sort of feel that something is off #and im not talking abt someone trying and maybe to necessarily succeeding in makes everyone perfectly in character #but rather people who will go out of their way to make characters different and unrecognizable and claim it’s somehow better #do you even like these characters then? if you feel the constant need to pretend they’re are vastly different? #txt. #hi and welcome to post 15226 of me being pissy over something that’s objectively not a big deal

[navramanan]

:/

#too many men have NO shame NO haya NO respect vallahi. it almost gets me worked up #this one guy sat next to me ON PURPOSE. the seat next to his FRIEND was empty. then along the way several more got empty #he stayed sat next to me and i'm not dumb i knew it was on purpose #then minutes before his stop he starts talking to me 'is everything well?' i dont know u and wtf do you mean #he asked several times i said yeah very weirded out #then he goes where u from are you german. then he gestures to his head saying very good meaning me wearing hijab #VOMITTTTTT WHO ARE U EW EW EW #i got so icked out cuz the audacity????? how you commenting on that????????? #i hate that it when it has to be said cuz it should be COMMON sense not to act this way not to make stranger women uncomfortable #but you like imagine someone doing this to your sister???? the fact it has to be said #the fact men dont have this common sense in their brains and only (sometimes) clock it with comparisons to their mums or sisters #before getting off he stretched out his hand to me to shake it AUUGHHHH???? NOW WE DONT KNOW THAT'S HARAM????? #had to say no two times cuz he insisted like you fr frrrrrr have to be stupid to ignore body language #cuz i was visibly weirded out. then he tapped me on my shoulder before getting off. shivers #you think it's very good when a woman wears hijab bit THEN sit right next to a non mahram woman when you couldve sat next to your friend #you look her directly in her eyes make comments about her covering (v inappropriate) THEN try shaking her hand #it's always the ones so so delusional about what theyve done wrong may Allah guide them for the sake of the women they give a hard time to #i rarely have encounters like this but i'm sure other sisters have it worse and they are TIRED #if any non muslim tries to analize this interaction to come to the conclusion that he was being normal and i'm overreacting #give it a rest xx #nesi rants

[ouchhq]

friends arent supposed to make u feel like garbage

#last night i was out with my usual friends and one of them is kind of estranged from the group like she pretty much isolates herself and #barely ever comes out with us when we ask… just when she feels like it and she is just a very peculiar person…. acts very selfishly and #refuses to talk about personal stuff with us (literally her closest friends) and also seems to not care about our personal stuff… basically #she only cares about gossip and small talk and literally once said our purpose in her life was to take her mind off of things and she didnt #want anything else from us……. so yeah #yesterday i was having a terrible day and at some point another friends asked me how i was and if i had updates and whatever.. and they kno #about the whole psychiatrist thing and how im very depressed… this other friend didnt know about the psychiatrist ofc because she barely #ever comes out with us but yeah she asked me what visit i was referring to and i told her and then i just said how much of a hard time i wa #having and how i didnt know really how to make it to march for the appointment because im just struggling too much #and my other friends were engaging with me as i was talking while the other one just sat back in her chair and looked at me bored and with #an annoyed expression and pretty much never talked to me all night and never replied to anything i said #also at various times while i was saying how i was struggling she pulled out her phone to do whatever #and my other friends noticed it too #and we talked about it on the way home #my sister always asks why im even friends with her because every behavior she has is so selfish and just not acceptable from a friend #im just so tired of being treated like shit tbh

[chastiefoul]

love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel

fluff, fluff, FLUFF

zayne

his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in

he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.

“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.

he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”

you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”

you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.

you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”

“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”

xavier

he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.

he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.

your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?

xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.

you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.

“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive  you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.

you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”

rafayel

oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.

“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”

“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.

you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.

“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.

finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.

“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace

[emphistic]

On the Court

Taglist: @starlets-things

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, whenever he shows up to practice, always gets asked about you by his teammates (sometimes random people — that he doesn't even know — ask him about you, too)

"How's Y/N doing?"

"Tell Y/N I said hi."

"I haven't seen Y/N around lately, how is she?"

"You'll ask how my girlfriend's doing, but not me? She's good — by the way." Sukuna always feigned to be hurt by these inquiries. He really wasn't . . . most of the time.

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who insists you give him a kiss before all of his games

"C'mon, baby, just one?" He pleaded. "You know you're my lucky charm."

You would always laugh, giving in to his desires. And in the end, he wasn't wrong. Sukuna comes out of most matches as victorious, thanks to you.

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves when you come to his practices, this doesn't happen often because you have to babysit Yuuji

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, if you do come to his practices, always acts like it's a Magic Mike show: he'll wipe the sweat off his face with his jersey just to show off his bare abs; he'll drink from his water bottle like a dog, making the water drip all over

When he's feeling extra scandalous, he'll even say, "I'm so sweaty, babe. Come lick it."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who always searches for you in crowds

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who would, without even a second of hesitation, skip a practice or even a game if you asked him to hang out or something like that

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who takes immense pride in showing you off as his

Sukuna pointed at you in the crowd to a new teammate of his, "See that beautiful lady over there? That's my girlfriend. My girlfriend."

Sukuna always teases, saying, "I wouldn't be surprised if we lost this game. I'll probably be too distracted looking at that absolute work of art sitting over there."

Albeit, sometimes his pride backfires on him.

"Isn't my girlfriend just so gorgeous?"

"Yeah, she is. She's like super hot," his teammate remarked.

"What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend, you little son of a bitch."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who gets so jealous when other people sit next to you at a game, but he can't (because he's playing) — sometimes you bring his baby brother, Yuuji, along with you and Yuuji sits next to you or on your lap, and Sukuna literally glares daggers at his brother

There was this one time, where a guy decided to sit next to you in the bleachers, and started to mansplain basketball to you. He told you all the rules, all the positions, and he even had the nerve to narrate Sukuna's game to you. And you, deciding not to interfere, just politely nodded.

It wasn't until the end of the game, when Sukuna had the chance to put this little boy in his place. Like you guys always do, you ran down the bleachers to congratulate Sukuna on his win. Most of the time, it's just a tight hug where the both of you share a chaste peck. But this time, Sukuna shoved his tongue down your throat, all while glaring at the guy from earlier.

Basketballplayer!Sukuna whose teammates always come to you whenever Sukuna gets mad after a loss; they know you're the only who's able to approach him without getting punched in the face

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves when you care for him after he gets injured

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who gets really annoyed when people try to hit on him, especially if they get in his way when he's trying to talk to you

"Hey, I saw you playing and you're like, really good."

"I know."

"I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't throw it."

NSFW Below

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves to fuck you while you wear his jersey; he can't help it; he just loves to see his last name on your back

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who would take you against the bleachers if you let him

Basketballplayer!Sukuna whose favorite position is having you on your hands and knees on the bleachers, he'll purposely pound into you just to feel you wobble and shake on the bleachers

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who fucks you like a rabid animal after a loss; he needs to get rid of all the pent frustration

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who'll tell you to be quiet whilst shoving his fingers in your mouth

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who meets up with you in the locker room after everyone's left, he gets annoyed when people tarry and delay his meeting with you

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, after fucking in the locker room, will proceed to take you again in the shower room

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who absolutely degrades you, pulling on your hair and making you hiccup and sob, he thinks you look divine when there's mascara running down your face and you've lost the ability to say or think anything but his name

"Look at you, milking my cock dry. You were made for this; you were made for me. Dirty fucking slut. My dirty slut."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who also whispers sweet nothings in your ear

"You're so beautiful, baby," his words were slurred, as his hips came to a stutter. "Such a good girl for me. Ah, shit. Look at the mess you've made of me. 'm drunk off of you, pretty girl."

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who goes round after round, his stamina is 100% inimitable

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who is not against sex in the car if people don't leave the gym fast enough

Basketballplayer!Sukuna who always has so much left over energy after a game that he fucks you senseless, leaves you absolutely destroyed, till your legs are shaking, cum is dripping between your legs, and you're mind is completely blank

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna headcanons #sukuna

[arminsumi]

★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#do u think if u ran ur fingers thru his hair he'd purr? 🤔 #fluff #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #x reader #jjk fic #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo

[aweina]

౨ৎ. MANSPREAD ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. established relationship. dry humping / heavy petting. begging. no reader orgasm ( boo ! ! ). cocky to submissive mikey + 1.8k words.

mike cannot seem to keep his legs closed. literally. sitting next to him was a total hassle. his legs covering every perimeter of leg space he could reach — leaving your knees buckled together and tucked in whatever corner you’re forced into.

you’ve mentioned his bad habit before, in which he mumbles an indolent “sorry” and then the next day, continues to do the same thing he’s half heartedly apologized for. at this point, you’re not sure he was doing it to press your buttons or his permanent restlessness has caught up with his memory.

then playful slaps on the knee became another idea. a quick sting to his skin kept his reactions stunned, buckling his knees together from your sharp touches. each slap garnered a short cry and a sudden flinch like some invisible string tied his legs together.

it worked, but only for a few days.

now mike catches your wrist halfway from making contact on his knees, gently tugging you down in the corner of the linen couch with a delighted chuckle. either that or he tosses you a knowing glance when you come by the couch, a raised brow and his hands protecting the caps of his knees — glancing his soft hazel eyes towards the tiny empty space beside him.

what a total ass.

all your solutions to stop his leg spreading habit seemed to do nothing for mike. instead, it made him even more repulsive — the spatial width between his legs could nearly reach the arms of the couch, leaving your poor body folded to regain any left over space. then his arms spread along the plush pillows — his rough hand would ever so often teasingly tug at your ears or play with the loose strands of your hair, pulling the ends while playfully twirling it in his finger.

in the corner of your eye, you swore there was a smug smile etched onto his face.

yeah, he’s totally doing this on purpose.

you thought a bit harder after that day. re-enacting different scenarios in your head without it resulting in some unneeded argument — nearly burning abby’s lunch in the process. but like a flash of light, it suddenly hit you. if mike was going to rob you of personal space, why can’t you do so to him?

“um … are you okay?” abby glances up at your blank eyes in concern, the chicken that was supposed to be golden brown violently sizzled from the bubbling oil, grimly layered under a blanket of black charcoal.

“o – oh, yes i’m fine abs.” you assured the smaller schmidt, transferring the hot pan away from the scorching stove — your inner victory delayed by your own clumsiness.

to salvage her burnt meal, you both shared a box of fresh delivered pizza for lunch.

but now it was that time.

it’s nighttime, mike was comfortably splayed on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. as it always was, his legs covered every crevice of the couch — body propped completely in between the plush cushions. the gray baggy sweatpants he changed into clung to his frame well — heavily ruffled on the parts you would love to get an eyeful of. his shirt was slightly damp from a warm shower, the gentle curl patterns in his brown hair glistened under the colorful glow of the television.

mike catches your lingering gaze, a pleased smile on his face.

“you’re not going to sit down?” he slurred a quip, patting down on the other end of the couch — seized by his thick thighs.

he refrains from teasing you for your blatant staring, but instead, for your multiple failed attempts to get him to stop his obnoxious leg spreading.

“oh yeah i will.” you mocked his sluggish tone, going to get yourself a cold drink before you make your way over to the couch.

blocking his view from the blaring screen, you purposely bent down in slow motion — distracting him from his vacuous browsing to simply put your drink down. mike quirks a brow at your little act, but still makes no effort to scoot over, barely moving a muscle.

then your body began to engulf his vision, fluorescent light spilling in the sides of your shadow. confusion knitted into his brows until suddenly, the air in his lungs were punched out from an added weight. the heavy crash of your body made mike rasp a curse, making him pathetically adjust himself after being nearly sunken in the folds of the aged couch — one hand clawing at the cushions for some stability.

“r – really? on my lap?” mike managed to breath out, holding your waist steadily with his free hand — your body felt so good flushed against his.

the innocent attempt to adjust himself ended up with him grinding on your ass, eliciting a low groan from his lips.

gosh, he’s too loud.

you hurriedly fish out the remote from his weak grasp, changing the channel to something that could hopefully muffle the pathetic noises that spill from mike’s mouth. abby’s room was still nearby the living room, the lights off and the door completely shut.

“well … you never give me room on the couch, so i think this is fair.” you explained leisurely, tossing the remote to the side as you grappled onto his spread knees, lifting off some weight to rub slow, shallow circles over his clothed cock.

mike fought back a needy whimper, biting his lip until fleshy pink turned paper white. the cooling sensation of his damp hair did nothing from how much his body was burning up. both his hands cling desperately onto the handles of your waist — kneading and lightly grazing his nails in your soft skin.

a throbbing warmth brushed against your clothed clit, mercilessly constricted by the confines of his sweatpants. you fought back a whine yourself, desperately tugging at the gray fabric with sealed lips. every steady brush of your soft flesh made mike see stars, the urge to lift his hips and grind harder into the curve of ass sat heavy in his lust hazed mind. yet his obedience seemed to glimmer brighter than his deviant instincts.

“ha ha- harder – ngh – please go harder.”

he sounded so sweet, so needy. you couldn’t deny him when the pool of his sticky precum oozes through the gray fabric — gossamer strings that weaved your dripping arousal with his own.

“s – stay still then.” you whispered, now fully pressing your weight against his hard cock — your back against his panting chest.

mike does what you ask, gluing his hips down to the cushions.

his heartbeat was racing against time, pumping all the hot blood that rushed down to his cock. his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, sending electric waves down your spine. his touches were sweaty, latching and kneading anything that pertained to softness. the open mouthed kisses he planted on your bare neck blossomed into purple hues, the drag of his teeth and muted whimpers coercing you to absolutely destroy him.

your hips rocked faster on his cock, the throbbing imprint tucked between the curve of your ass. his grip felt extra tight on your hips, reddish crescent marks decorating your flushed skin. mike throws his head back on the couch, his usual deep groans replaced with airy sighs. he closes his eyes, the same stars dancing in his eyelids — your heady scent making it harder for him not to hold you down himself and hump his cock against your pussy.

he’s so close, he can feel it.

“might cum – ah fuck.” mike warns with a high-pitched whine, the blasting audio from the television really doing him a favor.

you can tell too. his cock hasn’t stopped throbbing ever since he’s accidentally grind against you. his seeping precum never seemed to stop, only staining against the seat of the couch. he was like a horny teenager, so desperate to get off and trying so hard to compose himself. not like the asshole who was taking up all the space on the couch.

this was a great plan after all.

with one hard press against his cock, a spill of scorching heat nestled into your clothed pussy — eating through his soiled fabric and coating your covered folds. with no restraint whatsoever, mike’s deep groan vibrated the dimly lit living room, mindlessly bucking his hips lazily over your cunt like he could possibly pump some cum along your walls. the stars that whirled under his lids dispersed into a warm, satisfied feeling all over his usual restless body.

the very last minute, your hands flailed over his panting mouth — looking over to the direction of abby’s room. he seems to realize how loud he was, eyes widening as he hastily grabs onto the discarded remote, amplifying the volume to a considerate tone. not too loud to wake her up but definitely loud enough to cover the after effects of your intense heavy petting.

the light in her room remains untouched, her delicate footsteps nonexistent. she’s still asleep, thank goodness.

still both hazy from your lustful highs, mike drops the remote and snuggles into the crook of your neck — taking in your addicting scent while admiring the love marks he gave you. his cock softened under the soiled fabric, the sticky feeling making him furrow his brows. but then he realizes one thing, the sudden flinch of his body made you alarmed.

“i – i’m sorry. you didn’t get to cum.” mike sheepishly apologizes, fiddling with the waistband of your soiled shorts.

you shook your head with a relieved sigh, leaning back to gently kiss his stubble jawline — combing your fingers through his soft curls, dried on the top but the ends damp with sweat.

“i’m fine, baby, but you can make it up with one thing.” you mumbled in the base of his ear, a playful smile on your face.

in the corner of his eye, he can see the curl of your lips — the sight earning an eye roll.

“i already know what you’re going to say, but let’s hear it.” mike’s voice was baritone next to your flushed face, completely contrasting his previous whines and whimpers.

“give me all the space on the couch for now on.” you laugh when mike groans, still pulling your body closer to his despite this new ordeal.

“okay fine.” he defeatedly mumbles into your shoulder, his rough hands tracing over your bruised hips to your neglected chest — reaching under to knead your soft skin for his own enjoyment.

the moments of comforting silence were therapeutic, not even the continuous dialogue and sound effects from the bulky screen could ruin its peace. there was something still ticking mike off, he didn’t want to ruin this sweet moment but he couldn’t help it.

“are you sure my lap isn’t good enough?” he pleaded, a glint of hope in his hazy eyes — the couch being his only source of possession where he could splay himself comfortably.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes in the back of your head.

“no.”

it was an attempt.

he huffs in defeat, now kneading at your chest for some comfort.

“okay.”

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

#.୨୧ ina writes #.purple mark #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie x reader #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson

[wongyuuu]

calendar | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 3.1k summary: the red mark on the calendar is one of seungcheol's favorites warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), oral (f. receiving), breeding kink, cock sleeve (kinda), dirty talking playlist: ➝ here a/n: still a little (a lot) insecure about smut, but wanted to try writing this one. not proof read

please remember that comments and reblogs are extremely important

seungcheol stopped in front of the calendar in the closet, a smile tugging at his lips. the red circle around the date, signaling an important event he always waited a little more anxiously for. 

not that having sex with his wife was something he couldn't do as often as he liked, far from that. if anything both of you were always eager to be with each other, even after so many years together. it had never gotten boring or dull at any moment. both of you always wanted to try new things and keep it interesting, mostly you. for seungcheol being buried deep inside you while you moaned his name was to closest thing he'd ever to heaven, if such a place even existed. 

he gave up on the shirt, knowing fully well what the sight of him in nothing but sweats did to you. pair it with his wet hair and it was enough to drive you crazy. the good thing about being with someone for so long is knowing exactly what ticks the other person off, and what buttons to press. well, it could be both a blessing and a curse. in that moment seungcheol chose to believe that it was solely a blessing. 

a small groan left his lips at the sight of you lying on your stomach, scrolling through your phone, in his shirt and black pair of panties — the one he bought you after there was a small accident with a few pieces of underwear. 

the thing about ticks and buttons is that it works both ways and, obviously, seungcheol wasn't the only one who could play that game. 

he crawled on top of you slowly and pushed your hair to the side so he could kiss the nape of your head. you sighed in contentment when you felt his weight on top of yours. 

"look," you said, raising your phone slightly "hannie sent me pictures of his daughter today"

seungcheol looked at the smiling face of his friend with a little girl in his arms. it had been many years since he had seen jeonghan look quite that happy. of course that suddenly finding out about a child and suddenly needing to be a full-time dad wasn't the easiest thing in the world but he was playing it like a breeze. you swiped your finger and a picture of the little girl in a bright yellow dress greeted him. seungcheol smiled. yeah, she was cute and looked every bit like jeonghan, acted too. a little menace, she was.

"what does he want? if he's sending pictures he wants something" he chuckled knowing his friend well. everything jeonghan did had a purpose.

seungcheol sat back on his heels and slowly started to massage your shoulders over the fabric of the shirt. 

"he asked if we can have gia tomorrow night, he has a work thing to go" you moaned lowly when seungcheol pressed on the not in your shoulder blade, "i said yes"

he laughed again. of course you had been quick to agree, it didn't surprise him. you had always loved kids and were always happily willing to have them for any amount of time needed. after you had gotten married it had gotten a little more frequent since most of your friends had decided to have kids at the same, and since jeonghan found out about his daughter it had gotten weekly. seungcheol never complained, he too loved kids and liked having them around, he especially loved the glint in your eyes whenever you looked at them running around the living room, breaking a thing or two.

"cheol" you said one day at the darkest hour of the night after rolling around in bed for hours, voice barely a whisper as you played with his hair "i... should we start trying?"

it was too late, his mind was barely working, almost drowning in sleep for him to understand what you were saying but in hindsight, he should have seen it coming.

"trying what?" he asked turning around and wrapping you in his arms, his leg nesting between yours.

"for a baby"

that was how the calendar ended up hanging on the closet wall. your ovulation period was marked in a bright red marker. 

"do you think it's really work or, maybe, a date?" you asked.

slowly seungcheol moved his hand lower, to the small of your back, pressing a little more tenderly where he knew you struggled with pain. he moved your, his, shirt up,  adding a little more pressure as your body fully relaxed under him.

"jeonghan wouldn't date now," he said "gia is still getting used to him and us, he wouldn't add someone else to the mix"

you turned around under him, eyes narrowed. when you raised your arm to rest it under your head your shirt lifted a little, exposing the skin right over the elastic of your underwear. it was pretty, yes, with lace details on the sides but that mattered very little. seungcheol was far more interested in what was hidden under it. 

"you're telling me that jeonghan hasn't fucked anyone since we got gia? a whole seven months ago"

seungcheol placed his hands on your waist, your skin warm under his touch. the corner of your lips tugged up at the expression in your husband's eyes. he was struggling to keep focus on the conversation both of you were heaving. jeonghan and gia were the least of his worries. 

"i care very little about who jeonghan fucks" he said, voice hoarse as he leaned forward at the same time he pushed your shirt further up "all i care about is putting a baby in my beautiful wife"

he pressed a kiss to your naked skin. he had imagined it many times, you pregnant with his kid, your belly around. it had been one of the many reasons why he had woken you up in the middle of the night and fucked you dumb. he had never said anything, choosing to let you decide when it was time. when you were ready to have a baby. seungcheol knew that it was going to change things for you a lot more than it would for him, it was also your body. 

if it were up to him, you'd have a least two kids running around the house. 

"you have some work to do then," you said, laughing. 

almost like a reflex, you tangled your fingers in his hair. you sighed as seungcheol started his exploratory kisses. some were light, like the touch of a feather, loving, in a worship manner. others were the exact opposite, harsher as he pulled your skin in between his teeth just for a second, to later soothe the spot with the tip of his tongue. he loved to leave tiny marks in your body, where no one else would be able to see them but him. but you knew they were there, it was a constant reminder of the night before and a reminder of what was still to come.

you spread your legs to better accommodate seungcheol as he pushed your shirt to your neck.  you felt a little electric tension run over your skin when you noticed his eyes on you, taking in your every expression. you smiled when he pressed his thumb over your hard nipple, pinching it.

seungcheol took your boob into his mouth, biting your nipple at the same time he pinched the other one. involuntarily your back arched, your grip on his hair tightening.

he loved the sounds you made, how it usually started so low and small but he always managed to work you up enough to get you begging under him, on top of him. either way, you'd end the night pleading for him, for his cock.

"do you think today is the day?" he asked, trailing his kisses again down your stomach to your panties "do you think i can pump you full enough to get you pregnant?"

you expected seungcheol to tug at the sides of your panties and pull them down but instead, he kissed you over them. he grinned when he saw the small wet spot in your underwear. 

"i barely started and you're already wet, baby?" he teased.

he ran his finger over your cunt still covered by the thin panties. your hips twitched under his touch, needing more than just light touches. but you weren't ready to give in to him yet. he was going to have to work harder if he wanted to hear you begging for more.

"not a word? playing hard to get tonight, i see" he pushed your underwear to the side, lightly blowing your clit. he had to contain the laugh that erupted in his chest "let's see how long it lasts"

you raised your hips as seungcheol used his index fingers to pull your panties down. you laughed when you saw the small piece of cloth being thrown over his shoulder. your laughter died as soon as you felt his warm, wet, tongue on your clit. he sucked the small bundle of never into his mouth at the same time he pushed two fingers into you. he was relentless, his pace devastating, not giving you a second to breathe.

the sounds, of his mouth on you as well as the wetness of your pussy, were obscene but they turned you on even further. you wanted, needed, more.

and the thing is, seungcheol was the giving kind of partner. whatever you wanted was yours, but you had to say it, loud and clear. for him.

"come one baby, just ask" he blew your clit again, this time using the tip of his thumb to lightly brush it "use your pretty little mouth and beg for me"

a curse left your lips when his fingers stopped moving and he pulled away from you. your orgasm that was right there, around the corner, suddenly gone, leaving only your throbbing cunt and ragged breathing as a witness. 

you tried to grab his hand and push his fingers back but the was being a little shit, holding it behind his back.

"fuck, seungcheol," you said, partially annoyed, and desperately turned on "just eat me out, fuck me with your fingers. whatever you do just make me cum"

"your wish, wife, is always my command"

seungcheol wasted no second. his lips were around your clit and a third finger was added into to slit. it only took a few pumps for you to come undone under him. a mess of moans and curses. unsure of when exactly you had let go,  your hand gripped his hair again, forcing his head closer to you, grinding his face against you, desperate for everything he had.

seungcheol used the edge of the mattress to apply some pressure on his throbbing cock. he was so hard it was painful so whatever friction he could get was welcomed. 

every single one of your moans were met a stroke of his tongue and a pump of his fingers. it was torture, the most delicious and vicious kind of torture.

seungcheol only leaned back when he felt the shake in your legs subside, crawling back you. he pressed his thumb in your mouth, smiling when you opened and sucked him in. you were the most beautiful thing in the world, with your cheeks painted in a bright shade of pink, and two tear stains on the sides of your eyes. god, he loved you. 

you could taste your own release in his finger when you circled his finger with your tongue. you grazed his skin with your teeth looking into his eyes. seungcheol hissed, wishing that it was his cock in your mouth.

"i know you would love it if i sucked you," you said "but i really need you to fuck me, right now, please"

you were going to be the death of him.

you pulled your shirt over your head and turned around, sticking your ass up while your chest was pressed against the pillow.

for a second seungcheol felt like a teenager who just found out he was about to fuck the hottest girl he had ever laid eyes on. he was quick to push his sweats off. he hadn't bothered with boxers, knowing exactly where the night would lead the two of you.

"i'm going to fill you up so good baby" he squeezed your ass and second later slapped it "so so deep there's no way you won't get pregnant tonight"

he ran his tip over your pussy a few times, coating himself in you. he knew that he could slide in without doing it but he also liked torturing you. your moans got a little more desperate every time rubbed against your clit.

whenever he took you bare the sensation was entirely new and different. yes, there were a few instances when both of you were in too much of a hurry, or sometimes it just didn't matter enough, to care or remember to take a condom, but ultimately both of you had always been careful. you took your pills, he carried a condom and life moved on. but even after months of no condom, no barrier at all between the two of you, seungcheol still felt his head get a little dizzy. 

your walls adjusted perfectly to him, clinging around him, pulling him, demanding every single inch of him. he slowly pushed in until all he was deep into you, to the hilt.

you moaned against the soft fabric of the sheets, loving the burning sensation of the stretch. you pushed your ass high in the hair, wiggling it from side to side begging him to just move. the stretch of his dick deliciously painful still.

"cheol, move" you begged.

"this what you want?" he asked 

seungcheol pushed your head further into the mattress, his hand on the back of your head, thighing your hair around his fist. finally he started to move, he pulled his cock all the way out and pressed it back in, hitting that one spot that made your head spin and little stars shine behind your closed eyes, over and over again. you squirmed when seungcheol pressed his weight over your body, moaning as he somehow got even deeper.

you moved your hand down your body, slowly circling your with the tip of your nail.

"cheol, fuck" you bit the pillow "faster, please, just fuck me"

he loved the neediness in your voice, how you completely forfeit with your no-begging police. the smell of your sweet vanilla soap disappeared now that your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. 

seungcheol didn't change his rhythm, knowing that it was enough to drive you crazy and over the edge.

"are you touching yourself, baby?" he pulled on your hair, giving you a taste of your medicine. his dick throbbed when he saw the smile on your face "fuck"

he reached forward, slapping your hand away from your cunt. you cursed at him but the nasty words were quickly replaced with a moan when he pinched your clit, tugging and pressing, driving you fucking crazy on his dick. even so, his pace was slow.

"cum for me, baby" he whispered. 

"let me ride you" you begged "i want to look at you when you breed me"

your words had always been the ruin of him. he almost came right there. he turned you around and sat on the bed, grinning when you cried when his dick left your pussy.

"i know, baby, but you were the one that wanted to ride me"

a small fuck you left your lips as you crawled on top of him. seungcheol moaned when you gripped him, your hand sliding up and down his length while you grazed his tip with your nail lightly. you aligned him to you and sank down in one swift movement, making both of you moan.

seungcheol was wrong, being balls deep into you wasn't paradise. no. paradise was being balls deep in your cunt while you rode him, tits bouncing in in his face, while you moaned his name again and again like a prayer, taking what you wanted from him. he cupped your breasts in his hands. your hands covered his, forcing your nipples between his fingers and squeezing. 

"fuck. cheol" you said, eyes on his as you circled your hips before thrusting down on him again "i'm gonna cum. i need to"

your walls squeezed around him. seungcheol moaned as he held you by the hips holding you in place, while the pounded into you, finally, finally fucking you as fast and as hard as you wanted. he fucked you roughly, watching as his cock disappeared in your cunt, each thrust deeper than the previous one. seungcheol felt the muscles of his thighs and stomach squeeze at the same time you clenched around him, milking him.

he pressed his thumb to your clit and the scream you let out was enough to drive both of you to the edge. you let your body fall forward, and you bit that spot between his shoulder and neck. seungcheol continued to pound into you, fucking his cum as deep as he could, pushing it further into you making sure not even a drop was wasted. 

it took both of you a couple of minutes to settle down, evening out your breathing, and making sure your legs were no longer shaking.

"seungcheol" you cried, finally looking at his face, kissing him, letting him invade your mouth with his tongue "i'm so full. it's so deep"

he could never, ever, get enough of you.

“don’t move baby, let’s make sure this one sticks”

you kissed the side of his neck, feeling his hot cum inside you while his dick slowly got flaccid. you loved to have him in you, just there, with you, as close as humanly possible, with nothing between the two of you. his personal cock sleeve, he had called you a few times.

“you say it like fucking me is a terrible task someone assigned you”

you felt the vibrations of his laughter before you heard it. you just closed your eyes and pressed your head to his chest, the sound of his heartbeats calming like a lullaby.

“fucking you is the one task i’ll never ask someone else to do in my place”

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[lunarduty]

𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎 𝘼𝙎 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝘼𝙎 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙀

☾ definition: dacryphilia refers to sexual pleasure or arousal from seeing tears or hearing the sounds of crying. 141 + ALEJANDRO + RUDY + GRAVES X F!READER TAGS | nsfw, smut, crying, mention of a safe word, f!dom, overstimulation, orgasm denial WC | 3,099

JOHN PRICE

… sees you cry and praises.

if john could see your eyes right now, he’d tell you not to be embarrassed. would probably coo at you like a prized horse. ask you what was wrong, and if there was anything he could do to help.

problem was, you weren’t sure what it was you were crying over - the bite of wood against your skin, or john’s tongue between your thighs.

both were agonizing in their own ways. both BURNED with something that hurt too good to admit. both demanded your attention, but as always, john eventually won the fight for it. the tiny little scrapes and bumps caused by the old wood of his desk had started to numb when the tears came. john’s fingers pushing into your cunt acted as a sort of balm. you couldn’t feel anything but him.

his broad shoulders had kept your legs spread for far too long at this point, so they eventually began to ache too. they tremble and quake around john’s shoulders. you know he feels it, and thinks it’s because of his tongue and fingers.

he’s not far from the truth.

and just as soon as john’s eyes shoot up, you’re throwing your head back. eyes squeezing shut, shuddering breath disguised behind a moan, hoping to just cum on his mouth and he doesn’t have to know he caused the tears that seem to burn your eyes. he’s kept you on the edge for so long, it wouldn’t be hard to simply focus on his tongue and let go.

there’s a burn behind your eyelids. more tears form when his fingers curl and his tongue flicks a certain way.

“john,” you breathe out, ending his name with a pant. “it’s… i-”

“look at me, love.”

it was an order. plain and clear. your head snaps up immediately, finding his half-illuminated eyes in the lowlight of his office. dark hair looking raven black, eyes blown up to match - but even then, you see them LIGHT up with amusement. even in shitty lighting, john catches the glimmer of tears. right on the edge of falling down your pretty cheeks - you probably don’t even notice. it only makes him harder.

he laughs in a low rumble. “so fucking pretty, aren’tcha?”

you nod; panting, writhing, crying.

john leans his head in closer, pushing in his fingers as far as they’ll go. “pretty girl gonna cum for me? all sweet and tight around my fingers? keep watching me, love - gonna cum now? yeah, go right ahead, dove. you more than DESERVE it.”

the orgasm hits like a truck when john grinds his tongue against your clit. just before your eyes squeeze shut again, a tear finally breaks free and glides down your cheek - warm and flushed from a climax that he’s sure someone must’ve heard.

john has always promised he’d never make you cry, but this is a damn good exception.

☾

KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK

… sees you cry and dotes.

gaz has always gone on and on about how much he wants to keep you separate from his work. to leave all the roughness behind when he’s with you. it was never really a problem until tonight - sweet and gentle and slow to a fault. 

too sweet. too gentle. too slow. 

kyle is careful to keep a STEADY pace - a careful rock of his hips, lightly grinding against yours when he’s pressed in deep, making you feel each and every inch of him before gradually pulling out to do when same thing over again. and you know he doesn’t do things without an express purpose - after extending your orgasm a few times, it’s safe to say that your safety isn’t the top priority for once.

he hasn’t gone much faster than this languid pace. selfishly listening to your stunted breaths and pained whimpers of his name. 

if you ask him to go faster, gaz slows down. if you beg for something harder, he smiles and kisses you and tells you to be patient. 

but what has all this patience gotten you? two incredibly drawn out orgasms that fucking ACHED when they hit and kyle stubbornly keeping his thrusts slow and torturous under his guise of being gentle. it’s all a little too much. too intense. your eyes squeeze shut, face nestled against kyle’s neck, hips shifting up when he buries his cock in to try and grind out another orgasm. 

unfortunately, gaz knows you. knows your movements and knows your sounds - the shortening of your breaths and desperate whimpers and choked moans and… sniffles?

his pulls his head up immediately, eyes narrowing in on the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. and gaz grins - he can’t help against it. his cock pulses when a finger comes up to brush a tear away before it has a chance to fall down your face.

“poor baby,” he coos. if you weren’t so wound up, you might’ve noticed how tight his voice sounds. “it’s alright. doing so well for me. gonna make you cum again, don’t you worry. just hang in there, yeah?” his words are breathed against your lips, and by some miracle, gaz picks up the pace. hips picking up speed, even rocking a little stronger and it isn’t until you heard the slap of skin do you truly realize how SOAKED he got you.

the initial tears were caused by kyle’s torturous pace. a new set follows the old when he finally fucks you properly. gaz doesn’t mind - he likes wiping them away.

☾

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH

… sees you cry and teases.

“why’re you crying, bonnie? did you hurt your feelings or something?”

soap knows you won’t respond. not that you could.

the pace of his thrusts are too rough. too quick. too deep. using all his weight to slam into you again and again, not letting up for a moment. the worst part is, you know he has the stamina to keep going, even if you beg him to slow down. to let you breathe air that doesn’t taste like him.

your nails dig into the skin of soap’s chest as you shake your head. everything ached in a delicious way but it wasn’t your feelings that were hurt. soap moves his hand from his bruising grip on your hips to clasp around your jaw, shifting your head to look him straight on. he wants you looking at him, even through WATERY eyes. 

soap grunts as he shifts into a better position to fuck you in. his hair is mussed from your fingers. skin blotchy and flushed from exertion. he still grins at you. “then why’re you crying? want me to stop? is that it?”

“no!” you cry out - half a moan and half a shout.

a thoughtful hum vibrates against his ribs as soap’s fingers release your jaw, only to come up and wipe away a tear that leaked from the corner of your eye. “ahh, i get it, lass,” he breathes out, continuing his rough thrusts with a deep groan. “you’re cryin’ so pretty ‘cause you like getting fucked so good. am i right? my girl loves getting fucked ‘till she cries?”

you’re silent. eyes falling shut, mouth agape, head tilting back to ignore soap’s teases and just feel the addicting slide of his cock. he slows his thrusts only to grind against your pelvis and it’s such a massive difference in sensation that you nearly cum on the spot. it works to make you cry out his name.

“fuck- johnny!” and you do. so, so prettily.

☾

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

… sees you cry and worries.

simon’s face still hurt - a spot right over his cheekbone, purple and swollen and it aches almost enough to make him forget about how sore the rest of his body is.

it’s easy enough to ignore. it’s not liquor or ibuprofen that dulls the pain. his old methods of healing after a rough mission seem useless in the wake of pressing you back on the couch. it’s the touch of your skin, the smell of your hair, the noises you make that really pull him back together. you’re careful not to tug at him too hard or touch any of his TENDER aches, even when he begs you to.

yeah. it’s easy for simon to forget how close he was to not be here fucking you.

his fingers dig into the armrest of the couch, forcing his throbbing body to move as fast as he wants it to. an impromptu fuck on the couch wasn’t exactly planned tonight - you went on and on about how much you wanted to take care of him. but you’ve been clinging to him all night. never letting him out of your sight. it was just a natural progression and simon sure as shit wasn’t complaining.

“fuck, lovie,” he groans out slowly. if you keep moving your hips like that, he’s not gonna last much longer.

and fuck, simon was so close, he could taste it. feel it building in the base of his spine and how tight his stomach gets and it all makes it a little easier to forgo his aches to simply drive into you again and again. your arms wrap around his torso, brushing against tender ribs - when simon hisses, he’s unsure if it’s the pain or the sudden tightness around his cock when you jolt. simon’s mind goes blank and he’s just so fucking close and…

you make a new noise. unfamiliar to the ones simon has memorized when he’s fucking you. his eyes are HAZY and unfocused when he looks at you, and he didn’t quite know what he expected to find. tears accompanied the sniffle he heard, and your hand comes up to wipe them away in haste.

simon’s hips freeze instantly. “hey, hey, hey. what’s wrong? you okay?”

fuck, did he do something wrong?

to his surprise, you scoff. smiling despite wet cheeks and red eyes and simon blames his impending orgasm for how slow he is to understand. “i’m okay,” you reassure him. when your fingers trail up his spine, simon can barely breathe. “i just love you so much. don’t be so RECKLESS next time, okay?”

your legs tighten their hold around his hips. pulling him closer even when simon wants to pull back and really make sure you’re okay. you don’t allow it, instead grinding up against him at the same pace he’d been fucking you in - still sniffling and wiping a tear away on his arm.

simon swears he’s never cum so hard in his life.

☾

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

… sees you cry and stares.

morning has always been alejandro’s favorite time of day.

pinkish gold sunlight coming in through the window promises a beautiful day that he’ll likely be too busy to truly enjoy but welcomes all the same. alejandro hears the bustle of traffic outside - your place isn’t nearly as nice as his, but it’s closer to base and he’s never been known to waste time with you. alejandro is just a little tempted to rip his gaze away from you to enjoy the sunrise coming over las almas.

but he doesn’t. he never does. you’re just too fucking pretty.

alejandro kills two birds with one stone. pulls you out of bed and leads you over to the window just as the sun paints the clouds a deep gold. it saturates your skin in such a perfect way where alejandro can’t help but to touch it. touch your face, your neck, your shoulders, your back, your stomach, and well, he knows your pussy would look fucking HEAVENLY under the light as well.

“pretty fucking girl,” alejandro groans out. he usually likes watching his cock sink inside of you, but there was something about the glow of your skin pressed against the window that makes him just stare at your face. his thrusts are slow and deep, and your breath fogs up the glass, and you keep tugging your shirt down when alejandro pushes it up because you’re the one who has to face your neighbors every day.

when you came along, he didn’t think there could ever be a more beautiful sight than when you first smiled at him.

you proved him wrong with just a few tears reflecting the sunrise.

alejandro could’ve came right then and there. his hips did a little stutter and he grunted when you let out a little whimper while squeezing your eyes shut and he just watched a tear glide over your cheek. he almost pulls you away from the window to flip you around. fully face him so the glass doesn’t GREEDILY soak up all your tears because he’s fucking you so firmly against it.

“al- alejan- fuck, i’m so…”

“i know, baby. keep looking at me. yeah, lemme see those eyes. fuck…”

he kisses you. has a hand tangled into your hair and twists your neck into a better angle and kisses you to taste the salt on your lips and it’s like a bomb went off. alejandro’s hips pick up their pace and you rock back against him and fog up the glass even more when you shudder on his cock.

he cums with your tears wiping off against his own cheeks and salt on his tongue.

☾

RUDOLFO PARRA

… is the one to cry.

“it’s okay, rudy. doing so good for me. i’m almost there, you don’t have to cry.”

was he crying? fuck, he was. rudy didn’t even notice until you smiled at him fondly, bringing a hand up to brush away a tear that broke past his lashes and threatened to fall down his face. 

rudy waits for the hot flash of embarrassment to hit him, but it never does. maybe it’s because this is you. but it's more likely because he’s so fucking close to cumming, he can’t focus on anything else but you. keeping his hands locked around your hips, strong enough to keep them moving back and forth even when you try to slow them down and draw out his orgasm. 

you hadn’t even notice rudy’s big, wet eyes until you attempted to slow down. keeping a more steady pace in his lap to give your thighs a rest, and yeah, to wind rudy up just a little. he works so hard. he DESERVES to get fucked out of his mind now and then.

maybe you went too far, though. when you try to stall your hips, his hands make sure they keep their pace. his own hips buck up off the bed to get even deeper.

“i know you wanna cum.” it’s difficult to keep your voice steady. to not devolve into harsh pants and groans like he has. “but not before me, okay? make me cum, rudy. fuck, make me cum…”

he huffs - such a large demand for someone so fucked-stupid. rudy is so smart, so capable, and so fucking useless right now that maybe it’s too much to ask of him. so to help him out, you pry his hand off your hip. bring it up to your mouth and slide the whole length of his thumb between your lips, letting it glide across your tongue.

rudy instantly gasps and his hips jolt up. you can feel his cock throb even harder inside of you.

but with his thumb coated in saliva, you bring his hand down to where you meet. rudy takes it from there - give him a task, point him in the right direction, and he’ll complete it. he rubs his thumb in tight, DESPERATE circles while his other hand keep your hips in a deep grinding pace until you cum all over him.

it was good. fucking fantastic. but not your favorite part.

rudy knows he’s finally allowed to cum, and he does. so achingly beautiful in the way his jaw drops open, saliva stringing between his teeth. eyes hazy and wet with damp cheeks and a pink nose and when he groans, his voice is hoarse and choked. 

eventually, when you fall against his chest, all you hear are rudy’s hard panting and his sniffles.

☾

PHILLIP GRAVES

… sees you cry and laughs.

graves can be a real asshole sometimes. sarcastic, arrogant, and you know him well enough to know that he kinda likes it. makes him feel larger than life. untouchable. now is no different.

“c’mon, hun. i wanna hear it. y’can’t cum until i hear you say it.”

your arms are thrown over your face, hiding the way your teeth grit together and your eyes screw shut and how your jaw hangs open to gasp for air whenever graves bullies his cock even deeper with each thrust. and to be honest, you barely heard what he said - it was all just white noise. still, you know what he wants. and you’re a little too PROUD to give in.

there’s silence. graves scoffs and you feel him lean forward to grip your arms in his hands. being ripped away from your face reveals a little tremble of your lips, tiny red splotches on your cheeks, and tears lining your eyes. 

graves laughs as if it isn’t his fault. torturing you and playing with you. resetting the goalpost of what you need to do to cum.

the laugh is deep and GENUINE - the kind you’re treated with in the middle of the night away from his shadows, saved especially for you. the grin that accompanies it isn’t bad either. but the laugh is like a slap to the face (something graves might’ve inflicted if his hands were free - after all, you haven’t said your safe word.)

“my poor baby.” he says it so condescendingly. with a quirk of his brow and tilt of his head. as if he and his cock hadn’t caused the tears. “bet it’s gettin’ painful, huh? bet a good orgasm will make you feel right as rain.”

you slowly nod because god, you need to cum.

so graves hums, still wearing a smirk as he shifts on his knees. you whimper under the movement, spine arching, eyes solely focused on him. “then you gotta ask permission, right? c’mon, hun. sound off for me. i know you can do it,” he encourages while his fingers trail slowly down your body. going straight where you needed him the most.

normally, if you weren’t so wound up, you might’ve gotten smart with him. but as extra initiative, graves bends his spine a little. pushing his cock in just a little deeper and plainly getting off on how you gasp and your eyes finally push out hot, wet tears. 

this has gone on for too long. everything from your pussy down is throbbing.

“shadow 0-1…”

“hearin’ you loud and clear, baby.”

“requesting permission to cum…”

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #call of duty smut #gaz x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudolfo parra x reader #phillip graves x reader

[wilchur]

I've seen a lot of people talk about how the game doesn't give you any leeway when you play The Dark Urge, how it makes it very clear that Durge was A Bad Person, but I haven't seen it pointed out that Sceleritas seems VERY well versed in gaslighting the hell out of them and steering Durge away from any doubt or guilt in regards to their actions. Makes me think that they've probably had those types of conversations before because Durge actually always had a soft spot, only it got smaller and smaller in time. I have not had the opportunity to see the Heal cutscene yet, but I've got the butler in my camp now and he had some interesting things to say, like

[Durge: Can you tell me the worst thing I ever did?

Sceleritas Fel: There was one time you gave a beggar some coin while we were en route to the Devil's Fee.

Sceleritas Fel: You didn't kick him or spot on him or anything! I was so shocked I almost fainted!

Sceleritas Fel: I still have nightmares about it to this day. But I'm sure you only did so to lower the suspicions of the Flaming Fist. Surely?]

and it struck me because tossing a coin to a beggar is a bit of a thoughtless act isn't it? You don't put much thought into it, you just see someone in need and you do it. Out of empathy, generosity, something The Murder Incarnate should not be capable of. Sceleritas' uncertainty of Durge's reasoning for it totally convinces me it was NOT intentional. A simple act of kindness that slipped out.

ALSO

[Sceleritas Fel: The only way for a Butler to die is if we are not of use to our Master. But you have always needed abundant assistance.]

They always needed abundant assistance. Why? Because they kept slipping out of Bhaal's grasp? We know they did at least once, with Gortash. Maybe it was not the first time, maybe there are more "Letters of Forgiveness" tucked away somewhere.

To me pre-tadpole Durge is just terribly mindbroken and indoctrinated person hooked onto the sense of safety, purpose and acceptance of their dark side that the cultists and their father give them. Yeah they enjoy murder, gore and all that. That's the curse of their blood, but I don't think they were ever entirely consumed by it. Morality, guilt and empathy have always been there on the edge of their mind. Losing their memories (depending on player choices I know, but bear with me) was what they needed for them to be finally brought forward.

#i am very normal about this #its 3 am #i just hate the “inherently bad baddie character” trope sorry #durge is my little meow meow #imagine everyone treating you like a monster all your life because there's something Wrong with you #and then these wackos come along and are like “actually its all good we love you please do more of that” #unconditional acceptance is one hell of a drug lemme tell you #that's exactly how all those repugnant online communities get created #the dark urge #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #durge spoilers