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#I just can't help but wonder if I could have been even BETTER
r0-boat · 2 days
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Hello there (general kenobi)
SO! I was wondering if i could request the kings reacting to Kings, MC having mental breakdown or like crying all alone somewhere but suddenly hide it (at least try to) when they discover the crying
I just had a good cry so i got curious later to how they would React
Thank you! Luv u ! And love your writing! 💕😍😍
Whb Kings reaction to:
Mc having a mental breakdown and crying
Cw: angst, hurt/comfort
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Intro
The memories of Gabriel killing your best friend playing your head You had been so strong up to this moment... Why... Why now?
Nonetheless seeing a murder in front of you would be hard on any human especially one who had lost their parents in a homicide.
You try to tell yourself that he's okay and you will be okay. But it's hard to believe when the same angel is hunting you down and his mark shows crystal clear on your skin, a mark you try desperately to wash off. Soon everything came crashing down being being ripped from your home to an unfamiliar place the smell of blood and bodies angel and devil on the streets of Gehenna. You locked yourself into your room unable to hold back your emotion.
Satan
He practically ripped the door off its hinges. Even though you have the door locked he can sense you are in distress locked door or not you are in danger and he is not going to let it stop him.
You weren't in danger no angel has broken in, You are not hurt You are not bleeding but you still cry, scooping you into his arms It doesn't matter what you were crying about You are still crying, You are still hurting, And he will cradle you into his arms until those tears dry. Put the soft voice he'll ask you what's wrong He knows he cannot use his normal voice because he'll just scare you. Through your broken sobs He knows you're talking about Gabriel and the war. He clutches his teeth anger is bubbling inside him but he keeps it down. He swears that he will protect you and that the lives lost will not be in vain.
Those angels will pay. Gabriel will pay.
Mammon
He immediately cradles you holding you close your small frame against his large chest. He picks you up carrying you to his bedroom laying you down on soft silk he lays next to you. A sad human must be pampered.
Mammon is not a good talker but he knows how to take care of the things he loves. If you need your alone time he understands he'll make sure your treatment today will be of utmost importance. If you want he will stay with you being there to be a big teddy bear for you to hold and cry and an ear to listen. You'll be bathed in his bathroom tonight You will have all of your favorites prepared and delivered. You will not leave his room You will not leave his side.
Leviathan
He walks in your room more like barges into your room. Locks do not exist in his castle. Only for him to freeze his eyes going wide when he sees you crawled up crying. He feels his heart sink into a pit in his stomach.
He feels like shrinking into a puddle He knows part of this was his fault. But he doesn't know how to talk to people. He doesn't know how to console you He doesn't know how to help!!
He leaves the room ordering his servants to do anything to make you feel better or else they'll get hanged. To hell with his jealousy, you come first in times like these!
Beel
You know what makes him feel better? Going out and having fun. However sometimes that doesn't work with certain people. As his nobles do what they can to console you. He barrels through the door. loads of snacks in his arms (He didn't know which one you wanted so he just got everything)
Sometimes some people rather just be left alone during that time but feels about just can't knowing that you're on the other side of the door hurting. Knocking at your door constantly checking in on you. He's just worried.
Once you calm down he will listen to everything you have to say while the two of you eat snacks.
Lucifer
Lucifer is not well versed in mental health of humans So whatever he does he goes by the book whatever his books on human say he does. Being the extremely direct demon he is He will directly ask you if something is wrong and what has you so sad. However since he is not well versed in human mental health he is kind of scrambling, He is trying everything trying to stay calm. In the end he sits next to you petting your head until you calm down.
He does not like when you shed your tears in sorrow, They do not feel as good as when you shut them not of anger or pleasure or fear.
Oh boy if he hears what Gabriel did He will personally deal with his brother himself. Lucifer does not take kindly to angels or devils that hurt his beloved one move over Satan Lucifer needs a 'family reunion' with his brother.
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days
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Lucky Me
Requested Here by @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses!
Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x shy/insecure!fem!reader
Summary: Deacon loves you and he considers himself lucky to have you. Unfortunately, you can't see what he sees, so he takes it upon himself to show you just how lucky he is with you.
Warnings: discussion/depiction of insecurities and feeling unworthy, flirting, fluff, loads of comfort and reassurances
Word Count: 2.7k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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Your fingers rake over your outfit as your eyes catch on everything you deem an imperfection. As your reflection stares back at you, distorted, shy, unworthy of the man on his way to pick you up for a date, you wonder, what does Deacon see in me?
Deacon Kay is the opposite of what you think you deserve. He’s kind, loving, handsome, and makes you feel seen, even when you don’t want to be. As your mind races and your hands tingle to fix something deep beneath the surface of your skin, someone knocks and harshly pulls you back to reality. You take a deep breath and tug the fabric of your outfit away from your skin once more before you walk out of your room and to the door.
“Hi, Deac,” you greet.
“You look beautiful,” he replies as he steps inside. When his eyes meet yours, he proves to you that no one will ever be able to love you like he does. “Are you okay?”
While you nod, you ask, “Do I look alright?”
“Better than alright,” Deacon assures. “Ready to go?”
“I think so.”
Deacon smiles, and your breath catches as your eyes drop. He takes your hand and leads you to his car. Deacon’s a gentleman, the most handsome guy you’ve ever met, and you can’t help but feel that he could do so much better.
“You’re sure I look alright?” you repeat as you lower into his passenger seat.
“Absolutely.”
As he walks to the driver’s door, Deacon sighs. You can ask him if you look alright a hundred times, but he’s still trying to catch his breath. He knows you won’t believe him if he tells you. Deacon is learning that showing you every single day that you are all he wants is the only way to convince you he’s all in, and if that helps you build some confidence, even better.
Your fingers are twisted in your top when Deacon starts the car. He leaves the car in park to turn toward you. Gently, he pulls your hands away from your stomach and rubs your knuckles. His smile is the perfect reward when your shy gaze finally reaches his eyes.
“Listen, you could honestly show up wearing a beat-up tee, and you’d still be the centerpiece,” Deacon tells you. He shushes you kindly when you shake your head. “If you don’t believe me… There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, okay? The way you look tonight – every night – you’re what I want, but I want you to see what I see.”
“I think-“ You swallow and force your voice to remain steady as you finish, “I think you see something that isn’t there, Deacon.”
Deacon’s big brown eyes harden quickly before his gaze softens. He’s lucky to have you; if you can’t see that, he’ll shout it from the rooftops until you hear him, too.
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The day after your date, you don’t hear from Deacon. It’s not unusual; he’s got a busy and dangerous job, but after exposing the extent of your insecurities, it concerns you. If Deacon finally saw what you see in the mirror or realized that other women would be lucky to have him, you may have lost the best thing that ever happened to you.
You’ve been shy your whole life; you are used to that, but the insecurity rooting itself deep in your identity gets stronger daily. A relationship with a man like Deacon shouldn’t be marked by how often he reassures you that he wants you. For now, that voice deep down ridicules. As you drop your head into your hands, you ask yourself if there’s any chance that Deacon meant what he said last night and the other times he’s told you he’s lucky to have you.
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“Deac, you got anything to get off your chest?” Luca asks.
Deacon shakes his head and throws another punch. Luca staggers backward at the force behind Deacon’s hit. He’s strong, his teammates know that, but this is different.
“How’d the date go last night?” Luca adds.
“I wish I knew,” Deacon replies.
“What does that mean, man?”
Deacon drops his arms and steps out of his fighting stance. “She’s…” Deacon takes a deep breath to order his thoughts. “I’m so lucky to have her, but I feel like she’s slipping out of my hands and doesn’t believe me when I try to bring her back in.”
Luca nods. Other men might poke fun at Deacon’s romantic analogy or that he’s willing to fight for a woman, but Luca knows Deacon means every word he says.
��What does she need?”
“Something that I can’t order from a florist.”
“You’ll figure it out, Deacon. If she’s still around, sounds to me like she’s fighting to stay close, too.”
“I just… I hate that I can’t help her in that fight.”
“It’s not what you want to hear, but fight your battle, Deac. You love her, that’ll be enough.”
“I hope so.”
Deacon waves his hand up, and Luca raises the punching pad again. If Deacon stops pulling his punches again, Luca won’t complain.
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“Hey,” you say softly as the call connects. “Sorry for calling in the middle of the day, but I was just-“
“No, it’s my fault,” Deacon interrupts. “I should’ve called. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You pick at the pillow in your lap, waiting for Deacon to say something else.
“Are you busy?”
“Right now? No.”
“Good. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Why?” The question slips out before you consider how it sounds. “I mean-“
“I know,” Deacon says, and you can hear his smile in his tone. “Get ready, do whatever you need, and I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. See you then.”
“Perfect.”
The line beeps as Deacon ends the call, and you look at the dark screen. Twenty minutes isn’t much time, so you stand and pull your favorite outfit from the closet. You ignore the mirror as you walk past it. Deacon didn’t say what he was planning to do with you, so you dressed for casual comfort. Luckily, some of your insecurities have been silenced since the last time you saw Deacon. You know all too well that they’re waiting for the perfect opportunity to rear their ugly heads again.
You wait at the door for Deacon’s knock and smile as he offers his hand. He compliments your beauty – not your hair or your outfit specifically, but you as a whole person – and you don’t question it this time. It’s a small change, but one that you owe to Deacon.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“I was going to take you to lunch, but Luca’s food truck is stopping by HQ in about an hour. I thought we'd just stay there. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” you agree. “Is your squad still there?”
“Yep. You can finally meet all the people who listen to me talk about how lucky I am to have you.”
You smile at your lap, and Deacon moves his hand into your line of sight. He sighs as you take his hand and squeezes your fingers.
“Thanks,” he says.
“For?”
I know you won’t believe me, Deacon thinks. “You’re all I want. Thanks for giving me the chance to be with you, look a fool, count my blessings, all of it.”
“You’re welcome… I think.”
Deacon laughs at your questioning tone, and the smile on his face makes the wall of doubts about yourself crack. But it shouldn’t be his job to fight your insecurities. That’s not a relationship.
“Your friends sound nice,” you tell Deacon. “I didn’t think you’d introduce me to them so soon.”
“They practically know you already. I make them look at what I’ve got, and it’s you.”
You move your free hand over Deacon’s and run your finger across his wrist. Deacon pulls into the parking lot outside HQ, and you take a deep breath. He releases your hand slowly, then helps you out of the car.
“They’re a lot,” he warns. “Mostly Street.”
“They’re your family,” you counter. “I’ll be fine.”
Deacon’s lips pick up at the corners. You want to ask what that’s about, but he leads you around a corner before you can. Several men are standing beside the boxing ring, and when one of them sees Deacon, everything changes. He slaps the arm of the man closest to him, but his eyes never leave you.
Four men turn at his reaction, and all of their jaws drop. You smile shyly as Deacon leads you toward them. After a moment that stretches into an hour, the man closest to Deacon snaps out of his stupor.
“Hey!” he greets. “I’m Luca. I’ve heard a lot about you, but Deacon clearly undersold your beauty.”
You say your name quietly, then welcome Luca’s hug. It’s a friendly one, but it breaks the tension and alleviates some of the awkwardness hanging over you.
“Any girlfriend of Deacon’s is a part of the family, so welcome,” Luca adds as he steps back.
“Family, yeah,” the younger man agrees quickly. “We put the fun in dysfunctional.”
“Street,” Deacon sighs, raising his hands in question.
“What? I’m nervous,” Street replies.
“Me too,” you agree with a smile.
“No need to be. We’re harmless, except for Street’s terrible fashion sense. I’m Victor Tan, nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
You shake his hand before you notice Deacon has taken a step to the side and is talking to the leader of his team, Hondo. You’ve heard about him, but if he took Deacon aside to talk about you, maybe your insecurities about being with Deacon weren’t unfounded or invisible.
Deacon turns back toward you, and when his eyes meet yours, he gets lost in them. Your beauty knocks him off his feet sometimes and makes him forget to speak and breathe, yet he never forgets to tell you or show you that he loves you after that initial moment of losing himself in you, the woman who makes him the luckiest man in the world.
“You could’ve warned us, Deac,” Hondo says.
“About what?” Deacon replies, looking away from you slowly.
“She’s stunning! I don’t remember the last time a woman made me speechless, let alone Street.”
“Make a move on her and I’ll kill you Hondo,” Deacon jokes.
Hondo laughs with Deacon before he says, “I’m glad to see you happy again, brother. It’s been too long.”
“Happy,” Deacon repeats. “Look at her, I’m lucky.”
Hondo taps Deacon’s shoulder and steps past him to greet you. You introduce yourself with a smile that isn’t quite so shy now, and it makes Deacon’s heart pound in his chest. If you’re in the family now, maybe Deacon can finally convince you to see what he sees.
He walks to your side, and when he realizes you’re talking to Luca and Street about your favorite dessert, he smiles and wraps his arm around your waist. You mention that Deacon gets it for you often, and he can only think, look at you. Lucky me.
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“Do you want to dance?” Deacon asks.
The music changes, and you hesitate but lay your hand in his. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you to pull you closer. You laugh in his arms, and it shines brighter than all of the lights above you.
“You’re perfect,” Deacon whispers. You don’t hear him, but he doubts you would have listened anyway.
“Of course you can dance,” you muse, rolling your eyes despite your smile. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
Make you listen when I say you are perfect. “Plenty,” Deacon says.
“Do you think you could dip me?” you ask.
Deacon smiles. Every time he sees you, you seem a bit more confident than before. It’s slow, but as you gain confidence without sacrificing your shy and loveable personality, Deacon reminds you that he’s lucky and that you’re all he will ever want. As you stop arguing, Deacon prays you’re beginning to accept and believe it.
“Oh, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” Deacon murmurs. “One dip coming up.”
“And if I want to keep dancing?”
“There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do. Don’t care if I look like a fool.”
You smile as Deacon pulls you closer to keep dancing, and for a moment, you believe that Deacon really would do anything. But you still can’t see what about you makes him think he’s lucky to be here with you.
Back at the table, you sit back in your seat and exhale. Time passed quickly with Deacon, and you danced with him until you physically couldn’t spin another time.
“You’re amazing!” you tell Deacon.
“You’re beautiful,” Deacon replies. “But don’t take that, any of what I say, as surface things. It goes miles deeper.”
Your post-dance excitement lowers when you see the seriousness in Deacon’s eyes. You nod, believing him more than ever. He loves you and thinks that he’s lucky to have you. Deacon thinks you are all he has ever wanted. When your smile returns and you whisper thank you, Deacon knows you’re finally seeing it.
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You wake to a voicemail from Deacon. It’s over a minute long, and he left it around 2 a.m. With your lips pressed together and your nerves coming to life in the early morning sunlight, you press play.
“Hey, I know you’re still asleep and I’m sorry to do it like this,” Deacon says. His voice sounds strained, and you close your eyes. “There was a big raid last night. It went downhill and we got called in to assist. Now that we’re here and we’ve got our guy, we’re dealing with the fallout, too. I… I’m leaving for a few days. 20 Squad is assisting the Marshals. I can’t tell you where we’re going or talk to you while I’m gone. But the moment I get back- when I get back, I’m coming to see you. I love you.”
Hondo calls for Deacon in the background of the voicemail before it ends. You release a breath; days without Deacon aren’t what you want, but it’s better than the alternative you considered. There’s no chance that you can go back to sleep now, so you set your phone aside and get out of bed.
You walk past the mirror in your room, then stop. Taking a few steps backward, you turn toward the mirror. The eyes looking back at you aren’t the same ones you saw a few weeks ago. The woman you see now is loved, wanted, and appreciated; she’s beautiful, and the man that she loves feels the same about her. Everything that Deacon has told you – "the way you look tonight has got me thinking I wanna shout it from the rooftops." "I got somebody who’s all that I want, and it’s you." I want you to see what I see" – is in front of the mirror. It’s all in you.
The second realization you make as you meet your own eyes in the mirror is far more impactful. It makes you run into the kitchen to read the card from the first bouquet Deacon sent you, then call his boss. You'll need his help to show Deacon how much he means to you the moment he returns.
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When the team returns from their trip with the Marshals, Hondo walks into HQ first. He looks tired, but he smiles when he sees you. You wave, and he raises a finger. You take that to mean Deacon will be right in.
When Deacon does walk in, he sees you, and his eyes light up. It makes sense now. What does Deacon see in me? What he sees in you is precisely what you see in Deacon.
Deacon drops his bag and speeds up to meet you. He doesn’t ask how you found out when he’d be back; that will come later. For now, he needs you.
“Look at you,” you murmur as he approaches. “Lucky me.”
Deacon smiles, and his eyes are as bright and loving as always. He places his left hand gently on the back of your head and pulls you forward. You smile into the kiss as Deacon relaxes against you. His right hand raises to your jaw as he tilts your chin up, and you loop your arms under his to pull yourself impossibly closer to the man that made you the luckiest woman in the world.
“Woo, Deac!” Hondo exclaims as you pull back.
Deacon presses his forehead to yours and smiles.
“Put a ring on her or I will!” Hondo adds.
“What changed?” Deacon whispers.
“I finally saw what you saw. Everything you said you saw in me – all that you want – is what I see in you, too. Sorry it took me a while to realize,” you answer.
“Lucky me.”
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factual-fantasy · 2 days
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Bonjour Factual! Hope your day- whatever time it is when you're reading this- is going well so far! I Really liked the new art of the gang during the warmer times of year- like others have said, the smile you gave Grimace, while funny and cute, also perfectly portrays just how happy he is to feel included and helpful!
And speaking of Grimace, I agree with your thoughts from my last ask ( thanks for answering as always, by the way ). Although it would be awesome for him to mega evolve, Gigantamax, or dinamax- story wise I can't really think of a way for all the necessary pieces to fall together, unless you do an ark where Grimace is tragically captured by a human for a time, and exposed to the necessary conditions to change unwillingly- perhaps as an experiment of sort? Though you are correct that he would have to be descended from certain Gengar populations to even have the genes- though perhaps that's the reason he's sought out to begin with? Just an idea.
As for my main ask today- I actually have one pertaining to your Mario AU, if you don't mind! Just out of curiosity, have you ever considered giving the giant eel-like Mawrays a place in your world?
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They've been popping up a lot lately in Mario media- and I was wondering what you thought of the frightening creatures? And if they appeared in your AU, would they be an entire species of deep sea dwelling terrors? Or a single, legendary sea monster, like the one seen in the movie? And if they are present, have the bros ever had a harrowing encounter with one? What would they do to survive!?
Oh, and on the topic of giant sea monsters- I do have a secondary, unrelated question- what are your thoughts on the Godzilla franchise? I've been getting back into it lately and was wondering if you've ever found any interest in it? Do you have any favorite movies or monsters from the series? Or is it not a series that interests you? Just wondering!
(and I'll admit, I've found that binging Godzilla movies is always fun when I'm feeling down! Hope you're feeling okay today!)
(Grimace in warmer times post)
Hello!! :DD My day is going a bit rocky, but its still a lot better than I was expecting it'd go. So that's nice! <XDD And thank you! I'm glad you liked that drawing!! :)))
As for your last ask, I've done a lot of thinking since then. :0 And while dynamaxing and/or gigantimaxing still seems a little far fetched for my team.. thanks to this asker, I found the key to making him mega evolve! Enchantment seeds! :DD In one of the mystery dungeon games, if a Pokémon used an Enchantment seed they'd mega evolve for a short time! No need for trainers, key stones or Gengarite! :DD
I have a HUGE comic in mind about how Grimace finds the Enchantment seed, why he eats it, and how it effects him afterwards leading up to his mega evolution. The only problem is that this comic is ENORMOUS. So I'm kiiind'a on the fence about making it.. <XD..
Now! As for your Mario question. First of all that thing is terrifying- so I think it'd fit right into my Mario universe! <XDD Its easy to imagine that giant eel being a species as opposed to just one. Although one eel could have found a goldmine of super food and slowly grew to be giant. Yoshi style XDD I think that would all fit pretty well! I cant imagine Mario or Luigi would encounter the big one though. I picture it living wayyy out in the depths of the sea. They might hear haunting stories about it consuming passing ships though.. 👀
Now the Godzilla franchise.. if I'm being honest, I don't actually know much about it <:0 I know of Godzilla, King Kong(??) a huge moth, Mothra was it? A uhh... gold..? 3 headed dragon..? And I could have sworn there was a second Godzilla but bigger and all black in there somewhere-
My general opinion is that I liked the first...? Movie when it was just Godzilla. This huge hulking creature that emerged from the ocean. No one knows what it wants, what it is, or how to defeat it. Humans vs Godzilla. That type of movie was/is the most entertaining to me <XDD
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amethystina · 4 months
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HEYY ⭐
Firstly, I want to thank you for the last chapter you posted because even though it broke and tortured my heart, it's the third time I've reread it. Seriously.
Second, and that's really random, I just wanted to ask if you've watched "weak hero class" or if you intend to watch it. I know you're busy so I understand if you haven't watched it or don't want to! But if one day you do want to see it I would love your perspective on the drama ☀️
Third, and this is also a bit random, since when did you start drawing? Your drawings are wonderful.
Hi there! 💜
That's some serious level of masochism right there x'D But I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! It was a painful one for everyone involved, I'd say, but I AM glad that it's finally out there. I've been waiting for this moment for a long, long time and now I can finally start building towards Ga On accepting his feelings and sexuality. Which I really look forward to! :D
As for Weak Hero Class, it is on my list of things to watch, yes! I just don't know when I'll get to it. I've heard a lot of good things about it, but I also understand that it's pretty heavy? And I just haven't been in the mood for that. But I definitely plan to watch it eventually :D
It's a little difficult to pinpoint exactly when I started drawing because I always have? Like, even at seven years old I was good at drawing and so I just kept doing it (also helped by the fact that my big sister, whom I idolised, also chose it as her hobby and I wanted to copy her). But I tend to say that I was around 14-15 when I started getting SERIOUS about drawing. So 20 years ago now.
I actually did a summary of my art over on my drawing Tumblr, featuring works from the past 20 years.
Though, I won't lie, sometimes I can't help but wonder if I could have gotten further, much faster, if I'd gone to art school or actually put some organised effort into improving my art. I DID go to an art school for one year back when I was 23, just for funsies (mostly to learn other techniques), but I'm basically self-taught aside from that and I never really had a good strategy for how to practice. Which I think slowed my progress down a lot.
But yeah! I started around 20 years ago, when I was 14-15 :)
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giantkillerjack · 7 months
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My sister-in-law frustrates me to no end even though we barely ever interact because she keeps inviting my partner to parties with her Christian Republican friends, even though my partner told her not to send an invite to us if those friends will be there. And even though my sister-in-law is bisexual!!
And then she turns around and complains about not knowing how to deal with her friends saying, like, horrible sexist stuff as though that is just some natural unavoidable quirk of having friends!
Like, these Christian Republicans she has befriended don't seem to be kind - they're not even nice a lot of the time! They don't make for good friends, and she doesn't seem happy or supported in relation to them. In fact, she basically only ever talks about how her friends and/or current boyfriend are making her unhappy!
Because here's the thing: The effect of prioritizing 'including your Trump-supporter friends at your parties' over 'being invested in creating a safe space for marginalized people in your home', is that people who DO care about creating those safe spaces... won't wanna hang out with you! Because if you invite both cats and mice to your table equally, only the cats will show!
She's so afraid of losing the shitty friends she has now that she allows them to act as barriers to accessing friends who are invested in her wellbeing in a capitalistic hellscape!
It makes me sad because she's basically trapped herself, and there's nothing I can do to offer help without either compromising my morals or making my partner's life way harder by starting shit with her family.
Like, I consider myself a good friend, yeah? I try really really hard to be one, and it matters to me immensely. I am ride-or-die for the folks I love, and I am invested in being open and vulnerable and radically safe to be around when it comes to building strong friendships that are mutually fulfilling. I have a unique talent for validating people that I have honed for years because I genuinely want to make sure people feel safe and loved and seen.
And if my sister-in-law and I were friends, I could give all of that to her. I would strive to be an example of what it looks like when someone decides to care about you and treat you right on purpose, without expecting anything in return but your mutual respect. She would be family. She would be [Queer] Family. I would see to it that she knew she could call on me when she needed a friend.
But like.
This asshole has invited me to hang out with Trump supporters on multiple occasions.
We ain't gonna be friends.
#original#diary#family shit#I'll just continue to act friendly at family events#my friends help make me a better person. i don't think she could say the same for hers. makes me mad and sad#reminds me of the time i had to end a friendship bc a woman i had been inviting to group events revealed to me that she was#literally friends with Kelly Ann Conway. yes the aid to the president. that Kelly Ann. and when i tell you this friend of mine did NOT#understand why her defending Kelly Ann Conway made me feel unsafe. it was WILD#that's how my sister-in-law reacted when my wife was like 'hey stop inviting my non-cis ass to parties with transphobes'#both made arguments similar to 'i already don't have many friends why do you want me to lose more??'#like girlies you can't invite me and a bunch of homophobic Christians to the same party what is fucking wrong with you??#you can goddamn bet if you came to one of my parties there wouldn't be anyone there who'd try to defend the Trump administration#loneliness is frightening and painful and no joke but cowardice is no joke either#and this attitude meant that my wife and i could not safely rely on her when we went through several crisis situations#and this is something i find difficult to forgive bc shit was touch and go over here for a couple years#my wife isn't even as salty as i am about it but she never is when the primary person harmed is herself#maybe if sister-in-law recognized the flawed behavior and changed but she probably won't tbh and i have shit to do#have fun with your fascist friends girlie i wonder if sometimes it feels more lonely than if you were alone#have fun practicing the white silence our parents got so good at; you're really carrying on the family business your dad must be so proud <#i haven't had to deal with friends saying sexist shit for literal years sorry you've made yourself unsafe to trans people i guess#making friends is hard i know that all too well. but i also know that the more friends i make who make me feel sad and small#then the less time i have for friends that make me feel loved and motivate me to be a better person. time=limited. people=over 6 billion.#school was harder because the amount of folks was more limited. same with small towns. but we are all ADULTS LIVING IN CHICAGO#capitalism makes finding friends harder too but like it has GOT to matter to you that Trans people and POC feel safe#we each have control over whether oppressed people feel safe around us. don't fucking waste that.
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mako-island-moon-pool · 11 months
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You want to know how bad my memory is?
I was writing last night and I just straight up forgot that Sanji exists. I have been watching this show since 2012, he was my fave Strawhat outside of Luffy pre-TS, and I FORGOT HE EXISTED.
I was like 'hm yes well the ones who would understand are Nami and Robin... W- wasn't there one more I was thinking of a moment ago? Wasn't there another one who'd Get It?????'
'it's not Chopper. Definitely not Usopp. And it's not Zoro. That's all the remaining Strawhats at this point in the story. So... Why am I convinced I'm forgetting someone? Let's go through the arcs in my head agai- OH MY GOD, I FORGOT SANJI'
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#When I tell you my memory is shit... 😭 I used to own a Sanji shirt. What the fuck??#When that post about the memory issues finally leaves my queue#Like I joke about it but this shit can be genuinely terrifying. Like knowing my brain is getting worse. Knowing I'm probably forgetting#Seriously important things and just 'oops I can't remember haha'#It's scary.#I'll never get better because I'll just relive the pain over and over because my brain refuses to remember the help and progress I make#Every day I wake up back at step 1 it's so depressing and scary and horrifying and I hate it#I can never process anything bc I just forget and if I do remember it's like a punch to the chest for the first time every time#And people get SO sick of you after a while. Constantly asking for help. Never remembering anything. They get so annoyed with you.#Anyway. On a lighter note (not actually) I'm trying out a new one-shot :)#Not to speak ill of the 'soon-to-be' dead but Garp was a shit grandfather#So I was like What If Me And Luffy Had The Same Reaction#Because self love starts in recognizing your self through the other god damn it#Even if I finish this idk if I'll post it bc of how personal it is but it has been very cathartic to write#Then again I could just publish it anonymously so my irl friends won't see it. No harm no foul.#I (kid) once pushed my mom (grown adult) out of my room when she caused me to have a meltdown so I could 100% see Luffy doing the same thin#In my defense she had a habit of taunting me and destroying my stuff to punish me after inciting meltdowns and I just wanted to be alone#I was like 7 years old at the time (hell year hell year) so I doubt I actually hurt her. She just looked surprised. I remember that.#Sometimes I wonder why I identify so much with werewolves and then I remember ah yes. The childhood of being treated like a monster.#Like a freak because when people kept pushing your boundaries you'd rather bite than let them do whatever they want to you#Oh boo hoo such a terrible thing for a child to be... Protective of themselves...#ANYWAY. like I said this wasn't going to be much lighter.#I want Luffy to punch the lights out of Garp to protect his friends. Not even in-canon just in this fic#Ik in-canon Garp is a complex guy and loads of fans love him but... Smash eggs make sandwiches know what I'm saying?#Yeah GROOVY
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doux-amer · 20 days
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I can't believe I had such a massive headache and my eyes felt swollen all day because of the amount of crying I did this morning through the post-match farewell ceremony. I had to stay offline because everything would set me off, and like a fool, I just went on Instagram, thinking I'd be okay because I watched everything and for the new stuff, I could scroll past them and see them another day. But of course I cried again. The only way I'm getting through this week is because I have an overwhelming amount of work that's going to increase once the work week actually starts.
#i helped my dad plant some veggies and then went for a walk#and felt better and worse afterwards#i haven't felt this level of exhaustion in a very long time#my heart felt heavy and broken all day#and this isn't even me being dramatic lmao. i feel physically wrecked :|#can't watch any of the interviews. can't watch his interviews#i hate ig but god am i happy that he made an ig because i'm not ready to let him go#today cemented it for me that this was the right time for him to leave#last season would've been too early and maybe he could have done a season or two more but i understand#and i AM optimistic and excited for the future. it's like he said change can be a good thing especially if you embrace it#and it'll feel like a fresh start with so many staff and some players leaving#but at the same time i'm not fine whatsoever and this is going to hurt for a long long time#jürgen can you please come back to us? i can't handle this#i just love him dearly. we love him so much#we went from being a miserable bunch to watch to slowly believing#and then believing consistently and unless you were there for that change you don't understand#what that evolution was like. the wonder we felt. i will never ever forget it#and beyond the achievements...it's who he is that makes him special. take away everything and we'd love him anyway#as someone said he's a great manager and even better man and that's saying something because he's very very good#he's one of the best#i'm not as young as trent but jürgen was there as i became a REAL adult#he means the world to me and he means more than i can put into words and more than he'll ever know
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inmaki · 5 months
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gojo showing off your back scratches to geto
( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .
contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)
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everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.
a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.
there was only one thing ruining his peace.
all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.
despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.
"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.
right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.
great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—
"i fucked her!"
suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.
big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.
"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.
"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"
geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"
unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"
"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"
at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.
"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.
"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.
it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."
suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.
a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.
"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.
turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."
it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.
not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.
and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.
"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"
an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."
"huh. surprised you could last."
as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."
geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.
even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—
satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"
he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."
over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.
maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.
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mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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wyvernest · 6 months
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back massages
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pairing: miguel o'hara x college roommate f!reader
warnings: smut, miguel is a bit cocky, unprotected piv, suggestive massages, dry jumping
summary: you give miguel the proverbial back massage, and he returns the favour
"Ugh, my back-" he groans loudly, entering the cramped dorm room and slamming the creaking door shut in frustration.
"Still?" you reply, absent-mindedly, not looking away from your laptop screen and the from project you're working on for tonight's delivery. "Didn't the trellises at the gym help?"
You hear the cot springs coil under his weight as he drops to the bed on his stomach. "Couldn't even use them."
"Hm?" You're still half focused on your research, briefly catching the last words of his replies.
"The gym was full." He groans, shuffling on the mattress.
He is increasingly frustrated with the lack of attention he's receiving from you. You two have been teasing eachother for a while; enough of a while to get him riled up late at night, and to considerably speed up your heart rate whenever he was around.
But even now, you were afraid of being more obvious than necessary. He seemed so confident and easy to talk to, but sometimes you could only wonder if that's just what he was like with everyone else.
He wasn't. He was only this open to you. This relaxed. At least he wasn't aware of how attractive and intimidating his confidence could be to you.
Your delicate fingers kept tapping on the keyboard, unrelenting. Nearly indifferent.
"Didn't you say you'd finish it this morning?" he groans, slightly muffled by the pillow he rested his head against.
"Yeah." You aren't paying attention. Truthfully, beneath the façade, you can barely understand what you're reading, your eyes mechanically darting across the text in front of you. All you can think about is how much you'd want to straddle him and make out right now. Especially with the way he's groaning from the back pain-
"- I overslept." You explain, scarce and somewhat cold. He sighs deeply, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Fuck. You don't even know if being roommates is either a blessing or a curse. How are you even supposed to study with-
"Can't you take a break? Por favor." He speaks, his voice down an octave. You can't take it anymore. You peek at him over your shoulder, pondering.
He's shirtless. Of course. He has to be doing it on purpose at this point.
Your attention drifts over the line of his back that bends just slightly for him to hold his beefy arms under his pillow. His muscles ripple as he shifts to get more comfortable into the greyish bedsheets.
"Give me a back rub." He challenges, squinting his eyes and watching your face drop the second his request is processed in your brain.
"Come on." He chuckles lowly. A few ruffled strands of hair on his face make it look like he had just woken up. You can't resist. "Help me feel better."
Raising from the desk chair and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you place your hands on his shoulder blades, pushing gently, kneading the tensed muscles there. He sighs deeply once again as he feels your small, warm palms on his broad back.
"Ugh." he groans, relaxing under your touch. "Push harder."
You comply, applying more pressure, digging the heels of your hands into his toned muscles.
Your vision washes over his body, comforted by the fact that he can't see you. His back is so much bigger than your whole body. You feel an unfathomably strong need to lay on him, to feel the heat of his skin invade yours. Or better yet, have him lay on you, feel the whole weight of him, cozy and constant.
"Oh-" He moans, raspy and low when you find another tensed up knot, "-feels so good." You're starting to soak your panties from the sounds he's making.
"You're so good at this." He halfly speaks into his pillow, evidently pleased with the special treatment. "Ah, yeah, right there- oh-"
Insisting on the spot, you start putting your upper body weight into the strokes, not having any more force in your arms. He groans again at the sudden change, only this time it comes out very much like a prolonged moan.
Soon enough your own back starts to hurt from the twisted position you're in, legs dangling on one side of the mattress and your torso turned to him. Ceasing your movements, you bring your hands to your lower back, pushing so you could straighten your spine as a faint ache begins to form.
"Get on the bed." He moves his head to gaze up at you over his shoulder. "Straddle my waist. Better for the both of us.", He advices, as if it's nothing.
Your heart rate picks up as uneasiness shoots through your veins as in a lighting strike. You've never been this close to him before. This physical, this intimate. Heart fluttering at the faint hope of reciprocated feelings and the possibility of something more, you silently accept the suggestion.
Climbing on the bed, you hop on his lower back, gradually and slowly laying your bodyweight on him.
"Is this okay?" You're finally settled, and he groans in an infinitely relieved exhale.
"More than okay." One of his hands slips away from under his pillow to tap on your thigh, nearly making you jump. "Continue, it was so good."
Trying to ignore his hand still resting two millimetres away from your leg, you resume the massage, searching for more knots over his broad back.
"That's it, that's it, oh fuck- ugh" His voice sultry and raspier, he flexes his back muscles involuntarily the second you finally reach the spot.
You have to use all that's left of your self control not to accidentally clench your cunt on his lower back. But you can't help it. Wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea today.
The way he's slightly squirming underneath you as you massage his huge shoulders, the way your clothed clit rubs against his skin with the motions have you shivering lightly.
"Yeah- oh, fuck" Your hands are behind his neck, undoing all the aches and rigidity from hours of hunching over his desk, of not taking long coveted breaks.
"I'm done, my arms are starting to hurt." You announce, partially true. You also couldn't stand his noises anymore, all the obscene groans and rough moans, fearing he might start feeling now wet you've actually gotten in the meantime.
In a surge of confidence, you lean forward, more or less intentionally letting your breasts squeeze flush against his back, and you kiss his cheek, soft and tender.
He's surprised and flustered for a flashing second, before letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Let me give you one too, cariño."
You shiver at the pet name, hearing him talk this way to you for the first time.
How could you possibly say no?
You lay on the bed where he had been, feeling the clean sheets warm and infused with his musk.
The mattress dips, springs creaking slightly as he adjusts his weight, finally straddling your upper thighs. Your breathing quickens in shock, not having expected him to take the same position as you did. You feel his weight on you, grounding you.
His broad hands start at your shoulders, questionably innocent at first. But just as you start to think that there isn't more to the way he's sat behind your ass, to the way he's touching you, his palms drift away from the usual motions of the massage he is supposed to give you.
Expert, cursory fingers pretend to knead down, to your waist, gripping hard.
You start feeling your pulse in your neck.
One of his thighs flexes on your side as he slightly adjusts, lifting himself a mere inch above you and settling back down. Only this time, you can feel his erection through his sweats, snugly sat between the globes of your ass.
Leaning forward, his grip on your waist remains strong as he slightly grinds his cock on you from behind, his hands mimicking his rhythm as if things aren't already obvious. It's still a massage, it's just not his main goal.
"Mm- Miguel-" you attempt to protest, only it comes out as a moan laced with anticipating pleasure.
A broad, warm hand slowly and unabashedly moves from your waist up to your shoulder, only for a mere second kneading the tensed muscles before drifting down. His fingers ever so slightly slip underneath you as he palms your right breast, not stopping his hips from rubbing his dick against you.
He's slow and careful, as if still hoping you hadn't noticed or aren't bothered to ask him to get off, even through your mewls and his moaned name.
“You're so..” He speaks quietly, for himself, “soft, and fragile-” He leans forward, much like you did, but instead he kisses your neck, down your spine. “I wanna-”
He leaves the voiced desire unfinished as he picks your torso up to his chest, his arms encompassing you, flipping you around.
Now with your body trapped in his embrace, thighs between his and hands squished together, he kisses your flushed cheeks with fervour.
“Tell me to stop.” A low whisper below your ear. Watching your face for any trace of doubt, you shake your head, ‘no’.
‘Don’t stop.’
Placing you back down on the mattress, he bunches your skirt up to your middle, moving your panties to the side as his other hand takes his rock hard cock out of his sweats.
You feel the precum coated head flush against your pussy lips, pushing in with a gravel groan.
As soon as he gathers the courage to advance, his length grazes your clit, your hips automatically jerking away, akin to having touched hot coal.
A shiver runs down your spine that makes your cunt flutter, his awaiting cock twitching in enthusiasm. He feels you spasm and grow wetter.
“Ugh, that- you feel so good-”
He’s only taking his time before he can bottom out inside you. With a look over your shoulder, you don’t trust your voice to respond. You nod and clench your pussy around him, aiming to viciously drive him mad.
He suddenly pushes forward, hands forcing you onto him, the contact with his own blazing flesh making your brain melt and eyes roll back into your head. You can almost feel his bulbous tip in your guts, messing with your nerves and sinews.
Quickly adapting to the new conditions your body has given him, he corrects his grip on your waist, hoisting you until your feet lose contact with the bed. Back now arched, ass well-adjusted to meet his height, upper body rested on the plush pillows. He drags out halfway before sinking back in.
His hips slowly rotate against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you
You can’t take it anymore. Your limbs feel like radio-static, heart sending its pulse into your pussy, breathing laboured and synced with his. The broad head flicks a spot deep inside you that curves your spine this time, feet no longer able to find balance away from the stimulation.
A strong forearm curls around your middle with snake-like speed. You settle obediently back into his hold.
Your hips wiggle closer into his, apologetically stuffing yourself full of him. He smirks at the gesture, satisfied.
“Fuck, Miguel-”, you moan for him, giving him exactly what he wanted before he started pounding into you.
A combination of his pelvis slamming into yours and his hands violently dragging you back onto his dick has high-pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat. Your head rings with the sound of the bed squeaking back and forth along with the harsh returns of his cock in between your come-soaked folds.
His firm hands hold you from flinching, fingers digging into your waist while his thumbs press down into your lower back.
It's when he changes his angle that you scream out, all consciousness dissolving into raw, carnal bliss. Ruptured cries and fractions of his name bloom out of your nearly-dry throat.
He feels his heavy cock pulsate as your ass jolts with each slap, your pussy choking his dick in the process.
With a suffocating groan, he releases inside you, his ecstasy drawn-out into fractured grunts blended with heavy breaths.
You sense his warm come spilling inside you. Your own climax sends your head spinning, your loud pulse dropping in your ears.
The thunder subsides through your veins like a candle being put out by the cold.
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a/n: sorry for the delay i have a ton of stuff to do for college 💀
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vickyvicarious · 1 month
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I know it's been said before, but... I'd like to take a little time to really point out all the many ways the locals are trying their hardest to be kind to Jonathan and to help him however they can, even at risk to themselves.
The innkeeper's wife breaks her silence enough to tell him not to go, and when he won't agree, to warn him about the eve of St. George's Day and ask him to delay. When that fails too, she gives him her crucifix. That's probably her personal protection she's giving up to him.
She's not done. She tells the driver of the coach about Jonathan, and I think asks him to rush through the pass so Dracula can't pick him up tonight.
The people nearby who overhear her look at Jonathan with pity. While they don't directly try to assist here, I can't help but notice that they're on the bench "which they call by a name meaning "word-bearer"" and talking loud enough/repetitively enough that Jonathan is able to look up their words about various supernatural threats. They outright say the word for "vampire", making it the first mention in the book. If we assume they subscribe to a belief where you don't name the evil lest it come after you, that could be them trying to indirectly get him some warning.
The whole crowd try to protect Jonathan from the evil eye when he's about to set out.
That one guy pointed out God's Seat to Jonathan... maybe trying to bring his attention to something nicer, maybe some kind of religious protection? A kind gesture regardless.
The driver makes a fairly black humor joke about dogs that seems to be hinting at wolves coming after them. I wonder if he's half-expecting Dracula to send wolves to hunt them down. Regardless, even though he arrived late to pick everyone up, he pushes really really hard the whole time to try and rush them through before Jonathan would be picked up. He succeeds well enough that they're a whole hour early, even.
As it gets dark, everyone else on board also starts urging the driver to go faster, and watching out the windows for Dracula's approach. They're invested in this too.
When they enter the Borgo Pass, they all start giving Jonathan protective gifts. I suspect those were meant to keep themselves safe as they pass close by Dracula's castle, but they insist he take them all instead.
They sigh in relief at their early arrival, and not seeing Dracula. The driver does the smallest most halfhearted pretense of trying to get Jonathan there, before declaring they'd better leave now since he's not getting picked up.
They obviously can't directly oppose Dracula when he arrives, but I have to mention the guy who quotes Lenore. That's maybe stupidly open about what Dracula is but it's still pretty ballsy even if he didn't really expect the Count to hear him.
They're just... doing their absolute best to help him. I love them so much.
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he-calls-me-kitten · 6 months
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Dirty Dozen (ft. +2)
GN! MC x Pervert! OM Characters
(Cause y'all seemed to love the first one omg. Also TW: I made everyone wayy more sleazy and nasty than before so read at your own risk. MInors DNI)
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Pervert! Mammon who likes to ask you for something specifically when your hands are full. "MC, lend me a few Grimm could ya?" He asks when you're in the middle of cooking.
"My hands are covered in cake batter, just take some from my back pocket."
"Are you sure it's there? Let me check both pockets." He isn't so much searching for coins as much as he's feeling and practically groping your ass. Seriously you start to wonder how it's taking him 20 minutes to find something that's right there.
Pervert! Solomon who keeps his room colder than usual when you come over for magic lessons.
"Is it too cold for you MC? I apologise, I kept it this way because some of the potions have bad reactions to heat but if you'd like-"
"I'm absolutely fine, Solomon. You worry about me too much." You smile at him reassuringly, not noticing how his eyes are so eagerly trained at your nipples perking up through your thin t-shirt.
Boner Bonus points if you allow him to hug you for some warmth. His fingers will definitely brush against your chest more than once.
Pervert! Beel who seems to make a mess whenever he's trying to help you in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry, MC. I didn't mean to spill it on your hands!"
"It's okay Beel, it's just some cream and syrup. I can just wash it off right away."
"But it's such a waste. Please allow me." He starts to thoroughly lick your fingers and you shake your head and let him knowing his fixations on food.
But he can't help it - you taste so good. He secretly wonders what you might taste like down there, drooling at the thought.
Pervert! Levi who has taken to sitting on pillows Japanese style while gaming and offers you the same. Sure enough you don't even suspect an ulterior motive.
"Did you get inspired by some human world anime again? Careful though - your legs and butt will start to cramp after a while."
"MC you're too gracious! Caring so much for an otaku like me!"
After you leave, he promptly takes the pillow you were sitting on and puts it in his bathtub. He's going to sleep on it ofc. Your scent on it helps him jerk off better.
Pervert! Belphie who now asks you to rub his belly till he falls asleep. "What's so funny?" He asks as you giggle at his request.
"Since when do you need help falling asleep?"
"I care about the quality of my sleep. And I sleep better this way."
Fortunately you believe him and don't suspect that it's because it's the closest he can get you to fondling his dick. He has such a difficult time holding in his moans and hard ons, every time your hands go even a bit lower than usual.
Pervert! Barbatos who got into sewing clothes as a hobby and specifically likes making them for you now. But you never understand why he needs to take same measurements over and over again.
"Oh? This is a different kind of design, MC. So the measurements will vary from before."
"Always making new things aren't you? You never fail to suprise Barbatos." You smile at him admiring.
The tightening of the tape around your chest and crotch are subtle. He can hardly keep it together when you praise him after all. But he has to if he wants to skim his hands over your body like this again.
Pervert! Diavolo who takes you on such long drives that you always doze off in the front seat, waking up apologetic for missing so much of the journey.
"Hahaha, it's okay, MC. We've been on this same road lots of times. I assure you, you didn't miss anything. And I like that you feel safe to sleep in my presence."
"But still, I'm so sorry, it feels disrespectful..." You apologize, not even knowing how hard he is in his pants right now.
Afterall, he can keep squeezing your beautiful thighs, maybe let his hands wander between them and imagine himself fucking you in the back seat as much as he wants, when you're asleep.
Pervert! Simeon who will have noone except you as his muse for art classes. And the themes just keep getting more erotic each time.
"Are you sure you're okay with this, MC? You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable-"
"Nonsense, Simeon. I feel super comfortable if it's you. You're a true artist after all." You say as you lay on his bed wrapped up only in bedsheets, exposing your entire back and legs.
If only you knew, this angel has thoughts dirtier than most demons. How he's practically fucking you with his eyes. How he's definitely going to jerk off into those bedsheets, moaning your name.
Pervert! Satan who loves teaching you things - standing right behind you, guiding your hands to make latte-art, or trying a new style of painting.
"That's it, nice and slow. Look how much you've improved, MC." He beams at the cute kitty in the coffee cup.
"All thanks to you, Satan. I can't wait to learn more from you." You smile at him earnestly.
He almost feels guilty for tricking you this way, but the way your hands feel in his, and your ass feels against his groin is so addicting. One of these days, he wishes could teach you to be on all fours and take his length in your pretty little mouth.
Pervert! Asmo who loves keeping your eyes on him and noone else. From elaborate performances to petty staring contests, he cannot have enough of your gaze.
"Oh you're turning red in the face, Asmo. Did I manage to flutter the heart of the Avatar of Lust?" You lean forward smiling.
"You're my only weakness after all, MC. It's your fault for making me this way." He almost moans.
You laugh and mock apologize at his antics but you don't know he's been grinding like an animal on his seat, and creamed his pants under your innocent gaze. Your undivided attention just turns him on so much.
Pervert! Lucifer who makes his desires too obvious sometimes. He'll regret it in the morning and take you to dinner to apologize but not until he's already done something dirty.
"Lucifer, it's 2 am. You need to throw away that coffee and sleep." You're practically dragging him to bed.
"Fine. I'll go sleep if you'll stay in my room tonight." He says knowing you'll comply. You care too much for your own good. He's not even going to let you sleep on the couch, no you have to stay wrapped up in his arms.
You might wake upto him groaning your name in his sleep and you might mistake it for a nightmare - not knowing how he's balls deep inside you in his dreams.
Pervert! Thirteen who likes how excited you get over her newest inventions and keeps making more things to call you over.
"And this little baby and can throw pie at people's faces without ever missing. Guaranteed headshot." She smiles proud.
"This would be so useful in a cafeteria food fight and then get banned right after its glory. But I so wanna use it!" You whine.
She loves how much you appreciate her inventions. She is secretly working on a 'pleasure' device scented like her to give you - she hopes you'll like it just as much.
Pervert! Mephisto who is actually taken aback by your duality. You're such a mischievous little imp usually but turn so well-mannered in front of Diavolo's esteemed guests.
"So even you can be prim and proper sometimes? If only you could maintain this on the daily." He huffs.
You laugh and mock-bow in front of him. "Of course, anything for you my dearest lord. Would you like to dance with this proper human while you can?"
He blushes at the sudden offer. Why you little- how dare you tempt him like this. You can't complain about him gripping you somewhere improper or too tight. You deserve this for your attitude.
Pervert! Raphael who is still navigating new feelings of lust he's never felt before he met you. Why his heart skips every time you fall asleep on his shoulder or why he felt a sudden warmth at the pit of his stomach feeling you breath so softly into his neck.
"Thank you for helping me tidy the classroom, MC. I didn't even know where the cleaning supplies were."
"That's alright. It's more fun with two people anyway and wait Raphael there's a bucket over the-" The fresh bucket of water already spilled splashing all over both of you.
You immediately fetched a towel to help him dry up but he couldn't stop staring at you instead. With the uniform sticking to your body like and the water glistening on your exposed skin - why was he so enthralled? Why does he feel a strange pulsing between his legs as you hover over him?
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osaemu · 7 months
Text
GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: some other streamer's been buying you gifts, but satoru knows he can spoil you better.
contents: fem!reader. kinda sorta clingy!gojo. more toji slander hehe. inumaki and megumi gang up on gojo. like always. oh also you guys kiss on camera! tagging @sutorus and @yunymphs ꨄ︎
author's note: ughhh he's such a pretty pathetic loser i wanna shake him silly :(
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"oh, satoru, someone sent me another gift!" you say with a smile, beckoning him over to look. satoru hops off his chair and looks over at your computer screen, resting his chin on the top of your head. "look, it's the skin i said i wanted! i wonder who sent it to me, huh..."
satoru shrugs and dips his head to kiss the side of your face. "coulda just asked me for it, y'know," he mutters, eyeing the username that had apparently sent you the gift.
you ignore him and gesture at the time on the top-right corner of your screen. "isn't your stream starting in a couple minutes?" you ask, tilting your head. satoru nods and pulls away, shaking his white hair out of his eyes before walking back over to his monitor. and just a minute or two later, he's live and chatting with his early viewers.
"hey, suguru," he says with a grin, waving at the screen when his close friend joins. "you wanna join my team for today? the match's gonna start in a couple minutes."
suguru-geto: yea sure one sec
satoru spins around in his chair a couple times, and he blows a kiss at you every time his chair faces your direction. and every time, you humor him and catch his kisses. eventually, he stops spinning around in circles and starts actually interacting with his viewers.
inumaki: i hate gojo's streams
inumaki: you just stare at your gf for half of them
inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.
"anyways. suguru, you ready yet?" satoru says with a grin. suguru replies with a thumbs-down in the chat, and satoru groans impatiently. "what are you even doing that's takin' you so long?"
suguru-geto: taking care of something
"whatever," satoru grumbles, slouching down in his chair and spinning around one more time. "hey, chat, y'wanna know a funny story? i could use your help on it too."
the comments explode with various forms of affirmation, and satoru turns his head and winks at you. "so, lately, some random account's been sending my girlfriend everythin' she could ever want. skins, coins, you name it. what does that mean?"
he ruffles his hair with one hand and drums his fingertips on his desk with the other, surveying the replies from underneath his long, white eyelashes.
sho-ko: some guy wants her sooo bad
yuuji-itadori: maybe the person's just being nice! :)
satoru makes a face at shoko's comments and scowls, sitting up and leaning closer to the screen. "i dunno if the guy who's sending my girlfriend gifts is here right now, but if you are, you better not think that you have a chance with her. 'cause you don't!"
you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your face at satoru's indignant words, and when he turns to you, you just can't help but laugh. he's so sweet, even and especially when he does his best to gatekeep you. but ever since he brought you onto his stream for the first time, you've been an instant fan-favorite, so he can only hide you for so long.
satoru scrunches up his face at you childishly, and you draw a heart in the air right back at him. it makes him smile ruefully, and his eyes light up when you blow a kiss at him. he turns back to his screen determinedly and raises an eyebrow at the latest comment.
sho-ko: do u have the guy's username? cus you can find out who it is that way
"oh, it's... hard to say. rio-zuku?" satoru tries, squinting his eyes. "i don't know, whatever. you guys know him?"
megumi-fushiguro: dyou mean ryosuku? i hate him
yuuji-itadori: oh i don't like him either :( hes mean
satoru scoffs and puts his feet up on his desk, rolling his cerulean eyes. "he can't be more famous than me, so whatever."
megumi-fushiguro: he gets 100k views per stream
"well, he can't be a better gamer than me," satoru replies dismissively, waving his hand.
kugi-saki: didn't he win the val championship last year?
"but i bet i'm hotter!"
toji-fushiguro: you wish
"fuck you, toji," satoru huffs indignantly. "well, how haven't i heard of this guy? if he's so famous and so hot, huh?" ignoring your snickers, satoru switches to another tab and types in the username. but when he clicks on the first link, nothing shows up. it's a blank profile, and satoru's jaw dropped.
"how the fuck am i blocked?!" he whines, flopping his head back on the headrest of his seat and pretending to faint. the chat floods with a thousand expressions of laughter, and you hop off your seat to go sit on the desk of satoru's desk, taking care to stay out of sight of his camera.
satoru opens one eye and squints it at you, lips forming a childish pout. he reaches out and twines his fingers with yours, completely ignoring his exploding comment section. you squeeze his hand gently and reach over his keyboard, hitting a key to mute his microphone.
"i can block him if you want," you offer, wrapping your other hand around satoru's. "and, for what it's worth, i think you're prettier than him."
satoru grins smugly at that, eyes softening more and more the longer they focus on you. "m'kay, thanks... wait, how do you know what he looks like?" he asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes playfully.
"'cause i looked him up this morning."
your boyfriend sighs dramatically and pretends to faint again. when he reopens his eyes, there's a slightly new look in his eyes as he mumbles, "i wish people would stop hitting on you."
you reach out and touch his chin, forgetting that people on his stream could probably see your hand even if you two were on mute. "oh, i get that a lot," you tease, pinching his cheek affectionately. "but, honestly, you're the only one i wanna be with. even if that other guy buys me everything i could ever want, he's still not you."
satoru kisses the inside of your hand, eyes still fixed on you. "you do know that i'd buy you all of that and more if you asked, right?"
"i know. and i'd love you even if you were as broke as toji."
your side comment makes satoru throw his head back in laughter, and he shakes his head as a wide smile grows across his face. he pushes his chair closer to the desk and tilts his head up, minty taste fresh on his mouth as he smiles against your lips.
a bashful giggle slips past your lips as satoru kisses you again and again. from the corner of your eye, you can see that the two of you are just barely off-camera—in fact, anyone who's watching the stream can tell that the two of you are kissing, but you're still just out of sight.
"d'you want the new battle pass?" satoru mumbles against your lips, caressing the side of your face. you nod and grin, kissing the corner of his mouth.
"only you would talk about a battle pass while you're kissi—" satoru cuts you off with another kiss, stopping you from finishing your sentence.
"uh uh, shut up and let me kiss you. you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen n' i wanna enjoy you," satoru says plainly, gripping your chin in between his thumb and index finger. he tugs your lips on his again, and when he finally pulls away, he turns back to his screen and sticks out his tongue.
satoru unmutes himself and smiles smugly at the camera, face flushed pink from the way you had kissed him back. "well, at least that asshole doesn't have my pretty girlfriend, and he never fuckin' will."
yuuji-itadori: aw you two are so cute :)
megumi-fushiguro: i miss the single gojo
inumaki: im back whatd i miss???
inumaki: oh nvm im leaving again
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luveline · 7 months
Note
gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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erwinsvow · 17 days
Note
Okay but shy/bunny reader being used to bestfriend!Rafe ditching her because he’s with some girl, she never points it out and somehow she always lets it go because she’s just a babyy and Rafe starts realising that they don’t hang out as much😭💖
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it was hard seeing rafe go—always was, and always will be.
you tried to convince yourself you were used to it now, but the familiar ache in your chest when he'd say goodbye to you, topper, and kelce and walk away hand in hand with his flavor of the week was getting worse and worse.
before you'd realized you had feelings for rafe—beyond just the affection you gave to your close friends—you hadn't cared at all. you'd even encouraged it, same way you did with top and kelce, offering advice and recommending which flowers to bring, what places to bring them.
not that rafe ever really needed your help. it seems since the day he'd become your best friend, there was a line of girls hanging behind the two of you, seemingly waiting for their turn. at night, when it felt worse—and somehow it always did feel worse in your bed alone, wondering if rafe's was empty too and knowing that it wasn't—you tried to make yourself feel better.
you're still here, and they're not—that's how you tried. it worked for a little.
the newest girl had been around for a record three weeks, so even your usual bandaid for your shattered heart wasn't helping the wound heal.
so far, he'd skipped two meals, a day at the course, and half of a boat day to spend with her instead of you. you, kelce, and top that is. you'd hoped today was going to be different, walking back to top's jeep after lunch to head to the marina.
"you're not coming?" you call out to rafe, who was walking back in the direction of his own car. kelce and top are too far away to hear—getting into the front already. you were always stuck in the back, and you had never minded when rafe was there to keep you company.
rafe flicks his eyes over you, taking in the new dress you really shouldn't have bought just to see what kind of reaction you could get from him. your bag has your bikini in it and one of his button ups to cover you and he sees it poking out—white seersucker temporarily distracting him.
"rafe?"
"yeah. sorry, no. made plans with-"
"yeah, of course you did." you cut him off, and though even a few weeks ago you couldn't have imagined the vitriol in your voice, it comes out all too easy. "have fun."
you try to walk away but his footsteps follow—and damn his long legs, because he gets infront of you before you can escape.
"what, kid? you mad at me?"
you shouldn't say something. you shouldn't say anything.
"we're going to the boat. you said you were coming. i cut fruit for you."
"i-i'm sorry. top will eat it."
"it's not for him. that's not the point." the words teeter on the edge—wanting so badly to tell him that you miss him. that he never hangs out with you anymore, that he's choosing some girl over you and it stings worse than anything you've felt so far.
you're not sure when it started feeling so different—rafe's always done this. and standing two feet from the jeep, kelce sticking his head out the window to yell at you to get in, you realize you're going to reveal yourself if you don't shut up.
"have fun, rafe. sorry. bye."
you don't give him a chance to respond, but it doesn't take anything else for the gears to click. you're too quiet to ever admit it, too shy to say what you're really thinking, and rafe knows that—he's known it since he met you.
standing there, watching you drive away with kelce and top, he briefly wonders what the last time was he did something just with you. he can't even remember it. it all blurs together—late night runs for ice cream and breakfast while top and kelce were still passed out. the sweet way you smile at him and how your expression changes when he goes to the girl who's waiting for him. he gets in the car and can't decide which direction to turn—towards this girl or towards you.
on the boat, you kick up your feet and open your book, trying to drown out the chatter of kelce and top trying to get out of the marina and focus singularly on the romance in your hands rather than the one in your brain. you drown it out a little too much.
"that the one i got you?" rafe asks from somewhere next to you.
"god-" you exclaim, book slipping from your grip and thudding on the boat. "you scared me." catching your breath, you bend to pick up your book, but rafe beats you to it, picking it up and placing it on your lap.
"sorry."
"what happened to your plans?" rafe shrugs. you wish your heartbeat would slow down. you look down at your lap and rafe looks over you—exposed skin shiny with sunblock, a blue bikini he thinks he's never noticed before, matching nails that suit you.
"already had plans with you, remember?"
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nariism · 8 months
Note
Could you write Neuvillette blushes so bad when reader called him an otter.
a/n: hi anon! this is cute... yeah guys this is the obligatory neuvillette otter fic on my blog now, enjoy it ●ᴥ●
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He shouldn't be feeling jealous. He knows how ridiculous it is to be envious of such a tiny critter, especially one that's been seeking equal amounts of attention from both you and him.
But he can't help it.
"Look!" You hold the otter up into the air, dangling it around in front of his face. The otter trills, curling up into a ball and giving Neuvillette what he can only imagine is the equivalent of puppy-dog eyes.
"Are you sure it is safe to pick it up like that?" Neuvillette murmurs, watching as you peer around the creature with a wide smile.
You're completely ignoring his concerns about scooping up a wild animal, unable to contain your excitement from finally having a chance to grab one of them. "It looks just like you. How cute!"
And he also knows that such a passing comment meant to tease him shouldn't make heat crawl up his neck, but it does anyways.
"How in the world does it look like me?"
Your fingers scratch at the top of the otter's head and it's horrible that all he can imagine is your hands doing the same to him.
You turn the critter around in the air like you're showing off your child, to which the man can only stare in confusion. "White fur, cute face. Even has blue streaks, like your horns!"
"I don't see it." (Correction, he refuses to see it.)
The otter makes another noise and licks his nose, clearly content with being the center of attention. He only scowls, cheeks flushing when he realizes how much you adore the damned thing.
"So adorable," you grin, cradling it in your arms. "Just- just...! So cute!"
He's pretty sure you're malfunctioning with the overload of cuteness. He fares no better, brain melting with every hard-struck realization that you might be calling him cute by extension since you're so insistent about the similarities.
"It..." he clears his throat, losing composure with the second-hand praises. "I suppose."
"You suppose?" You laugh, finally turning your eyes back to him. He almost melts into a puddle right then and there. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he immediately refutes, rosy all the way to the tips of his ears.
"Jealous," you insist with a smile, setting the otter back down into the water. It leaves a shell as a parting gift and disappears into the sea.
"I am not jealous." Neuvillette bends down to pick up the shell, unceremoniously shoving it into your hands. You know you've got him then, with his sudden lack of manners.
The Iudex can't be jealous. Especially not over something so silly. But his face is a mortifying shade of pink, both at your passive comments about his similarities to such an adorable creature and your accusations of envy.
Your free hand suddenly lurches forward and grabs him by the face, effectively holding him in place while he falls apart. There's a pretty softness in your expression as you look at him.
"Cute," you tease, and he's melting all over again.
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(Neuvillette flops down on the couch that night, face down in your lap. You raise a brow, setting your book down to peer at him curiously.
He's unmoving for a pause, completely still to the point where you wonder if he just instantly fell asleep. But then he shuffles, turning onto his back to look up at you.
Ah, there it is. Something akin to puppy-dog eyes underneath his stone cold expression.
Your fingers scratch gently at his scalp as you continue to read, combing through his long hair. "Knew it," you muse with a smug expression.
He grumbles with red cheeks.)
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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yandere-fetish · 1 month
Text
I can't help but think of...
A Foreign Yandere that's transferred schools, to your school, only to kidnap you for his dark desires.
A Foreign Yandere that takes you back to his country after deciding you're his darling.
A Foreign Yandere that has a family encouraging him to wed you then impregnate you right away.
A Foreign Yandere that shushes you to sleep while wiping your tears away. He always whispers sweet nothings into your ear.
A Foreign Yandere that makes sweet love to you when you're a good girl and treats you like trash when you try to escape.
A Foreign Yandere that keeps abusing your pretty pussy with his fingers in the mornings.
A Foreign Yandere that smiles at your adorable confused face when his family and himself speak in their mother tongue. He can't help but want to place you on his lap and feed you.
A Foreign Yandere that keeps you by his side constantly, and when you're not, he has his dogs watching you.
A Foreign Yandere that has three beaucerons or dobermans he's been training to trail his beloved wife and uses your clothes to have them identify you as said wife.
A Foreign Yandere that ends up having to physically remove his own dogs from his own bed to sleep next to his own wife. He's all ready been working all day, and now he has more hard labor to do?! Oh, you better be ready to give him something in return!
A Foreign Yandere that eats you while you sleep, listening to the cute moans that send pleasurable tingles down his spine.
A Foreign Yandere that comes home one day and discovers you getting along with his mother and sisters.
A Foreign Yandere that can't wait to spoil you senseless once knowing you won't run away from him.
A Foreign Yandere that buys you everything you never needed and then some. He even splurges when buying food.
A Foreign Yandere that is very possessive. So much so, it takes your hand on his thigh and a sincere promise of spending quality time in the hot tub to quell his anger.
A Foreign Yandere that reinforces your promise and has you skinny dip instead.
A Foreign Yandere that refuses to stop fucking you, even when his older siblings walk by.
A Foreign Yandere that doesn't take no for an answer when it comes to your pleasure.
A Foreign Yandere that likes watching you play with his nieces and nephews.
A Foreign Yandere that's waiting to see you glow from pregnancy and to see you hold his child in your arms.
A Foreign Yandere that would spoil you and his child silly. He wouldn't just let you have all the fun with your newborn.
A Foreign Yandere that makes a great son, brother, uncle, husband and now father since you and your child have been added to the family.
A Foreign Yandere that smirks in satisfaction when you walk down the aisle, pregnant again, on your wedding day. He just can't take his eyes off you! And how could he when he has you as his beautiful bride and the wonderful mother of his children?
A Foreign Yandere that knows you won't try escaping him any longer when you've had his children and became his wife.
A Foreign Yandere that whispers his dream of having a house full of children that only his lovely little foreign wife can give him.
*sigh*
I just can't stop daydreaming about a Foreign Yandere.
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