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#because otherwise he didn’t deserve to come back
lucyghoul · 1 year
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“you can’t ask me to do this cas, not this…”
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charliemwrites · 3 months
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Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3
(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)
Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish
No Content Warnings
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It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.
But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.
Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)
A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.
“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.
You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.
“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”
“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.
He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.
On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.
You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.
When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.
“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.
You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.
“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.
“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”
“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”
You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.
It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.
On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.
The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”
You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.
On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.
“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.
“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.
“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”
Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”
God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?
“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.
Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”
“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”
“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.
You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.
“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.
Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.
The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.
Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.
Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.
You thought he was a fluke.
But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.
“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.
“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.
“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”
“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.
You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.
“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.
“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.
“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.
“Does Kyle have one?”
The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.
“Oh does he, lass.”
You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”
“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”
And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.
Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.
The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.
Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.
The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.
“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”
“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.
“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.
“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”
You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”
Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”
He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.
“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”
“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.
“‘Night, bonnie.”
You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.
He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.
“Mornin’,” he says.
“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.
“You’re up early,” he observes, following.
“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”
He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”
“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”
“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”
It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.
“Well, thank you. I loved them.”
“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”
Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”
“But what if I want to?”
And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.
“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.
“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”
He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.
“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”
“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”
“Dangerous woman.”
You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”
“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”
Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.
“…Do I even want to know?”
“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”
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earthtooz · 1 year
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x : MORE :*+゚
in which: rin's not happy with your decision to sleep on the couch.
warnings: cliché lol, 1.1k, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, unedited + ooc!rin towards the end, a lot of metaphors but hey one cliché leads to another.
a/n: this is practice for me to a) get back into writing and b) remind u guys that i am still writing luls, enjoy!! reblogs r vv appreciated, but this quality is actually so ass.
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“are you sure you want to sleep out here tonight?” rin’s voice asks from the hallway entrance, slight concern laced in his tone as he watches your backside set up on the couch, fidgeting with the pillows and blankets.
“yeah, i’m positive,” you answer, not turning around to look at him; something rin frowns at. 
“oh…” he mutters, leaning awkwardly on the wall as he scours his brain to try and find something to say. “really?”
“yes, really.”
“won’t you be uncomfortable?”
“i’ll be fine. it’s not that bad here.”
“if you’re sure.”
silence cuts the conversation with a cold knife, leaving the two of you in the suffocating quiet, one that stops rin from instigating further conversation despite how badly he wanted to continue. because if he shuts up then that means he has to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone. he wants you to come to bed so the two of you can sleep peacefully together and not (what feels like) eons apart where he can’t hold you.
“are you going to go to bed? it’s getting late,” you ask, no hint of hostility at all in your tone as you shuffle under the covers, disappearing from rin’s view completely. 
he bites the inside of his cheek, disheartened at your eagerness to see him go. “oh, right. goodnight.”
he lingers for a second longer, waiting for a ‘goodnight’ back, or even better, an ‘i love you’, but neither comes and rin feels his chest contract. 
rin didn’t mean for the argument to escalate, he didn’t mean to sharpen his words and pierce you with them, he didn’t mean to hurt you to the point that you didn’t want to sleep beside him.
as he slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, your absence on your side of the bed hits him even harder. it’s cold. it’s empty. it’s void. rin loathes it.
you’re not faring much better, replaying the argument in your head over and over again as the small, coffee table lamp illuminates the room with a warm yellow. each replay of the memory just twists the knife further and causes a new batch of tears to wet your eyes. 
you hate this. you hate feeling weary around rin, you hate feeling like you need to walk on egg shells around him from now on, you hate feeling like he doesn’t value you the same way you do with him, you hate these new revelations coming to your brain as you reflect on your relationship-
“you’re still awake?” a voice comes from the hallway.
leaning up onto your elbows, you blink in shock at the new figure making itself known. thanks to the lamp, you can see rin from where he stands, and you can see the confusion in his eyes.
“uh… yeah,” you say.
“why are you still up?”
“i was thinking. why are you still up?”
“i…” rin hesitates for a second, “i wanted to check up on you.”
your heart flutters at his shy confession. “i’m fine, thank you.”
“you sure?”
“yeah.”
“why, are you not fine?”
no, he’s not. he wants you to come back to bed, he wants you to reassure him that the two of you will still be okay, he wants you.
“no,” lies rin. “i’m okay.”
the soccer player regrets his words instantly. 
“that’s good. i’m gonna sleep now and you should too, you have a big day tomorrow.”
but rin can’t sleep. not without you beside him because otherwise, the bed is too vacant and too chilly and reminds him of the life he used to live too much.
and he’s scared that he’ll have to go back to living like that if you’re not there beside him, petrified that you’ll leave in the middle of the night because you’ve realised that he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. 
instead of confessing that, the dark-haired merely sighs, the words lodging themselves in his throat. “okay. i’m off.”
you reach over to turn off the lamp, engulfing the room in darkness with a single click. “goodnight, rin.”
“i love you,” rin confesses, but it’s too quiet and too breathy for you to hear, so there’s no response. he hopes you know.
so, he retreats back into the barren wasteland that is your shared bedroom. he misses you. he reaches over to your side in hopes of being to feel some remnants of comfort.
30 minutes later, rin wakes again after weaving in and out of consciousness and he’s sick of it. it’s 1:10am and he only has five hours until he needs to get up. decisively, he throws the cover off of him and makes his way to the living room, intent on this trip being his last one. 
it’s dark in the living room and rin can’t find it in him to turn on a light and disturb your slumber, so after adjusting to the dark and mindlessly patting around, he eventually threads his arms underneath you. he lifts you up so effortlessly, driven by determination and love as he walks to familiar path back to your shared bedroom.
he settles you down gently and the last thing rin remembers before drifting off is the warming feeling of content as he pulls you into his arms. 
the following morning, you rouse to the sound of a blaring alarm; the one rin always uses because otherwise gentle alarms won’t coax him successfully. your lover shuffles beside you, shutting the clock off with a groan before wrapping an arm around you again, pulling you into his warmth.
wait.
you raise yourself up onto your elbows, dazed and confused. weren’t you meant to be on the couch?
“don��t go,” rin murmurs, snaking his arm up to wrap your shoulders instead, gently guiding you down to the mattress, “sleep.”
“how did i get here?” you ask and rin stiffens before pulling you in to his chest. “rin, i’m being serious.”
“you were always here.”
“don’t lie to me.”
“i’m not lying, so let’s sleep.”
you’re sick of his shit. “itoshi rin, i swear to-”
“i carried you back here, now shut up. i only have 10 minutes before i have to get up and get ready.” 
“i think i’ll go back to the couch, actually,” you say jokingly.
“not funny.”
“i think it’s plenty funny.”
he frowns, wrapping himself around you even tighter. you don’t hug him back, but you’re here and that’s all that matters to rin. you didn’t leave like he thought you would. 
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “for last night. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“it’s okay, rin, we can talk about it later.” 
“we’re okay right?” 
“of course.”
“you… you won’t leave. right?”
“i would never. why would you think i would?” 
“just being stupid, i guess.”
“better you than me.”
he huffs, letting the conversation die to silence.
you speak up again, “i love you.” 
rin feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he can breathe again.
“i love you more.” 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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tojipie · 7 months
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adah imagine prisoner!toji getting eaten up by his own thoughts one night in his cell. because how can this be satisfying for you? having quick sex once every two months? a girl like you deserves so much better. so he brings it up one time during the visits, and you see how hard it is for him, but still, through gritted teeth he reassures you he wouldn’t blame you for indulging in someone else every once in a while. JUST THE ANGST!! and reader of course being like … what the fuck are you talking ab i jerk off to your pictures?
prison bf toji series linked here <3
content: hurt/comfort, angst
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“and then turns out there actually was a fucking rat in his cell,” your boyfriend wheezes, his booming laughs marking the end of the story he’d been telling you for the past half hour.
the visiting hall is bustling today, packed to the brim with the wives, partners, and kids of the state’s incarcerated, all making the drive up right before new years.
you notice the sudden silence as your shared laughs die down, bemused at the inmate’s choice to not keep the conversation going.
“you okay?” you ask, reaching across the table to intertwine your fingers.
except toji doesn’t squeeze your hand like he always does, letting the appendage lay limp in yours.the older man opens his mouth to say something, looking around the busy room with a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.
“do you miss.. how we used to be?” he asks, voice sounding detached.
something sour stirs in the pit of your stomach at the way he’s acting. if the sudden change in ambiance didn’t give you whiplash, his vague question definitely did the job.
“i mean, of course i do,” you laugh nervously, rubbing a thumb softly over his knuckles. the inmate squeezes back this time, quelling the storm of anxiety bubbling in your chest.
“the sex i mean,” he explains, looking up from the floor to speak to you head on. “do you feel.. deprived? are your needs getting met?”
your thumb stills for just a moment as you think it over, though you doubt he even notices. the truth was yes, going from getting fucked every day to getting fucked every 6 or 7 weeks wasn’t exactly ideal. but what else were you two supposed to do? the man was serving a 7 year sentence for christ’s sake.
toji takes your momentary silence as an answer, sitting up straighter before speaking once more.
“i’m just saying if you ever found a man to fill in the gaps then i’d be open to it,” he explains. you notice a hint of unsureness behind his stone facade, catching onto the way his hand begins to fiddle with yours. what was he playing at?
“you’re saying you want me to cheat on you?” you ask, exasperated. where was this even coming from?
“god, fuck,” he sighs frustratedly, running both hands over his face slowly.
“i can’t give you what you need, can’t— not like how we used to,” his voice tapers off at the end like he’s scared to upset you. “shiu’s had a crush on you for years, i’d know he’d take good care of you.”
you step back from the table to gather yourself, pacing in front of the inmate like a woman gone mad. you’re grateful the constant circulation of inmates and visitors in the room is drawing attention away from you, otherwise an officer probably would have come over by now.
you couldn’t even believe what toji was offering to you. seeking out other men— his business partners—to “fill in the gaps”? when the love of your life was only a car drive away? fat fucking chance.
you stalk over to his side of the table, pointing an accusatory finger to his face.
“if you ever..” you pause, blinking away tears, “think that i’d give up on you just because we don’t have sex as often as we did then you’d be fucking crazy.”
you see him audibly flinch when your voice cracks, the weight of your emotions bringing him literal pain. toji’s eyes have gone wide, realizing the implications of his offer.
“i’m sorry baby, fuck, i’m sorry,” he whispers, pulling your face into the curve of his neck despite the harsh restrictions on touch set during visits. you silently thank the bustling crowd again for shielding the two of you, clutching at each other so deeply you think you might just meld into him.
“don’t want anybody but you,” you say with finality, pressing soft kisses to his pulse.
“i know sweetheart, i hear ya.”
you stay like that for the rest of your visit, breathing in each other’s warmth as calloused hands rubs circles into your back. neither of you say anything, not needing to when both do you knew you’d always find a way to make it work.
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hazbinhotelie · 19 days
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“Alastor!” I yelled, slamming the door to his room open.
“My dear,” he said casually, with a small smile. “It’s lovely to see you. What’s got you in such a huff?”
“Don’t play games with me,” I said, marching right up to him. “You know exactly what you did.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a clue,” he said, smiling wider. His ear twitched. “You’ll have to specify, darling.”
“You- fuck! You put three dead deer in my fucking bedroom you asshole!”
He chuckled to himself. “Ah, that,” he said lightly. “Yes, I thought you might appreciate a nice meal. I noticed you’d been skipping dinner and figured you’d be hungry.”
“And you put rotting deer in my room, as if I’d eat it,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“I personally find the taste to be quite good,” he said, matter of fact. He narrowed his eyes at me. “I wouldn’t have done it if you’d just shown up to mealtimes like everyone else. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t enjoy my cooking.”
“I don’t mind your cooking,” I said, crossing my arms. “I was avoiding you.”
“Oh, and whatever did I do to deserve that?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. He rose from his seat and started circling around me. “I feel I’ve been awfully kind to you, despite your attitude. Have I not?”
“The constant game of hot and cold, threats, and insults don’t really send that message,” I grumbled, watching him warily. “I’m tired of it. I don’t want to be made fun of in front of the others and I don’t want to be afraid of being in the same room as you. I don’t want to be afraid that you’ll announce to everyone the deal we made, I don’t want to be afraid that you’ll use it against me in front of the others.”
“Oh? You’re afraid of me?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know. “You’re afraid of this?” In an instant, green chains wrapped around me tight. He held the end and gently tugged me near him. “Hm? You’re afraid of someone little chains?”
“You’re the Radio Demon, an Overlord of Hell, and you own my soul,” I said, quieter. “Of course I’m afraid of you.”
He tutted me lightly. “Now, that just won’t do,” he said. His smile turned more malevolent as he pulled on the chain- harsher this time- forcing me right up against him. He cupped my face with one hand, and held the chain in the other. “Smile, my dear. I won’t hurt you.”
“Everything you’re doing right now says otherwise,” I said, my voice strained.
He raked his claws across my cheek, slowly, only making shallow cuts. “I wouldn’t hurt you in a way that matters,” he said, correcting himself. He wiped the blood away and licked it off his fingers. Then, he went back and started again, this time going down my neck, too.
“It matters to me,” I mumbled, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
“Mm,” he paused, and seemed to think for a moment. “Don’t cry,” he said, softer. He wiped away my tears- the few that had slipped down my face- then hummed to himself. He traced little shapes across my face, with my blood. “You look wonderful like this, darling,” he said quietly.
“Please,” I said, the word coming out like a small whine. I couldn’t handle him being gentle with me, not when I knew his anger and wrath all too well. I couldn’t handle how quick he could switch things up like this.
He didn’t say anything in response, he just continued to hum and trace little shapes. When he was done, he tapped my nose. I felt an odd sort of sensation flow through me, then the pain from the cuts faded away. I opened my eyes and glanced at a mirror he had on his wall. The scratches were gone, and so was the blood. The chains were still there.
“All better now,” Alastor said, sounding pleased with himself. He patted my head lightly and smiled wide. “There! Now everything’s good again, right? I fixed it.”
I looked at him, confused. Still hurt- not physically, but god, he was so much to handle. “Al..” I couldn’t even form the words. I was tired. I’d not been sleeping because I couldn’t without the radio he’d given me- and I’d taken it out of my room a few days ago because I’d been upset with him. I hadn’t slept since, and I’d been skipping meals to avoid him, too. I was utterly exhausted.
“My dear, is something wrong? Did I miss anything?” He asked, pulling me back towards him. He wrapped an arm around my waist, still holding the chain in that hand, and placed his other hand under my chin, making me look up at him. “Hmm.. you seem more tired than I’d thought. I’ve taken quite the toll on you, haven’t I?” He chuckled to himself.
I couldn’t even bring myself to respond. I was caught up in the familiar sound of radio static that accompanied him everywhere, and that mixed with the sound of his voice was just like listening to his radio show before bed. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch a bit, something was making my anger and frustration melt away. Maybe I was just that tired. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Alastors eyes were green rather than their usual red when I closed my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to care if he was using his magic on me.
“Relax, darling,” he said, moving me around. He pulled me up with the chains, so my back against his chest and my head was leaning on his shoulder. I didn’t resist. There was such a nice pattern to the sound of the static and how it matched the rhythm of whatever he was muttering under his breath. I tried to open my eyes to see him again, to see if his eyes were green, but he covered my eyes with his hand before I could. “Come now, that’s not important anymore. You need rest.”
He kept me against him and snapped his fingers- he’d gotten rid of the chains- and in a moment, we were in my room. I could tell due to the distinct smell of deer carcass. He probably used his little shadow-teleportation trick. He paused his muttering for a moment and moved to let go of me. I nearly collapsed, relaxed to the point my legs felt like jelly. He quickly caught me, sighed, then chuckled and set me down in a chair. He left me there and a little later (after some very loud sounds of ripping and tearing apart flesh and a certain sense of unease that only arose when Alastor was in his demon form) the smell of dead deer was gone.
“Hmm… I suppose you were right, it wasn’t the best food I could’ve given you,” he said, pulling me up and out of my seat again. “It was rude of me to leave it here on the floor, too. I really should remember my manners next time.” He carried me to my bed and set me down in his lap.
“Mmnn,” I mumbled lightly.
He laughed and used his fingers to turn my lips upwards, into a smile. “You’re so much more peaceful than before! I take it you’re enjoying my little spell?” He let go, but a small smile remained on my face. “My, my, you really are tired. Such a relaxed and happy little thing, aren’t you?”
He shifted his position, as if leaning over to my nightstand. I heard him sigh, then snap his finger again. A few moments later, the radio- my radio- was playing some tunes. He’d brought it back in for me.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t get rid of my gifts, you know,” he said, quieter. He ran his fingers through my hair as I grew more and more tired and closer to sleep. “I know you need the radio to rest, it’s apart of our contract. To ensure your dependency on me. You remember, don’t you?”
“Mhm..” I said, hardly audible.
“Good. Don’t forget you need me,” he said, a bit more stern. “I may be rude and I may hurt you, but at the end of the day I’ll protect you all the same. Nobody else is allowed to hurt you, so I’d say it’s a fair trade. It’s moments like these that make up for my own nasty behavior, I think.”
I didn’t reply, I just tried to hum along to the radio. I was nodding off, leaning against him as I sat in his lap, my head against his chest. He laughed at this and hummed along with me, still running his fingers through my hair. I began to trail off in my own humming and my breathing slowed. Finally, I dozed off.
“I like this,” Alastor said to himself. He stayed with me espite the fact I was asleep. “I like seeing you so peaceful, knowing I’m the reason behind it. I like spending time with you. It’s why I was so frustrated when you began skipping meals, you know. I wish we had moments like these more often.” He paused for a moment, and ran his fingers along my face. “I’m sorry, for hurting you earlier. I don’t think you deserved it.” He sighed and held me close to him. “I like this,” he said again. “I like this.”
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cupcakeinat0r · 2 months
Text
A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class
pt. 4
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After seeing you flirt with that other student, Miguel went back home to his penthouse with a mixture of emotions.
First, he felt angry, and on multiple occasions. For starters, he was upset to see you smile for someone else. He wanted to make you smile like that.
Then he got even more mad that he's mad about that. It was so childish. There shouldn’t be anything between you guys anyway. Buying you things and hugging you and giving you pet names and head messages was already pushing it to the very edge.
Then he was confused. Miguel was starting to think maybe you liked him in that way, too. Was it all just platonic to you? Was it the way he looked? Did he do something wrong?
His heart drops at the thought that maybe he made you feel uncomfortable, or worse, unsafe. Feelings of concern cloud his mind making him toss and turn in bed.
This thought alone was more than enough proof to him that he needs to start treating you like what you are: his student.
<3
That next morning, y’all had class. You scurried in at your usual 2-5 min late mark, Miguel’s eyes reluctantly following you. You sat down and smiled at him, but you weren’t met with your usual sweet, adorable professor's smile. Instead, you just get a surly glare before he starts the lesson.
The whole lecture, Miguel is using every fiber of his being to not look over at you, because he knows that if he does, he’ll fall for you all over again.
When you ask him for help, he doesn’t get as close as he used to, keeping his manly musk away from you.
When you raise your hand to answer a question, you’re not his first pick.
When you leave little treats for him on his desk, he doesn't even touch them or acknowledge them.
And when you leave class and say “Bye, Professor O’Hara! Thank you for class today!”, there’s no more “ Thank you, Mama.” No “Sweetheart”. Not even “hun”. Just “bye”.
It would be like this for about a week, treating you the way he treats the rest of his students. Miguel’s heart was breaking, but this was for the best. For the both of you. You could get anyone you wanted, and he shouldn’t put his job on the line. Besides, you seemed to be very happy with this new guy. Miguel truly believed that he didn’t deserve you anyway.
You were so confused. It was like two different people. Like night and day. You wanted answers. Luckily, y’alls tutoring session was coming up.
You knocked on his office door to be met with an indifferent man. He opens the door with no greeting, completely dismissing you as he lets you in. No gift in sight, though you were expecting that given his drastic change in behavior.
You set your bag down and sit at your seat, Miguel giving you a paper filled with practice formulas for the final. Without even looking at you, he sits at his desk and does something he never did: tend to his own work.
“Just let me know if you have any questions. Otherwise, finish those formulas and you’re good for the day.” He doesn’t even look at you when saying this, his words slightly muffled as he spoke into his hand.
Everything felt so off, it was making you want to cry.
“Professor O’Hara… are you okay?” There’s genuine concern in your voice, but his gaze doesn’t leave his paper.
“I’m fine. The formulas, please.” This is the driest you’ve ever seen him.
“You-you sure?” All you get is a tired sigh from him before he, without lifting his gaze still, uses his pointer finger to tap on the paper before you.
Not wanting to anger him, you start the practice. It’s dead silent in the office. The air feels stale. Did the lights in here always feel this clinical?
“There. I’m Finished. May you check them, please?” You ask softly, still hopeful that he’ll somehow be normal again, only to be disappointed again.
He finally peels his eyes from his own work and onto yours, his eyes quickly skimming through your paper.
“Good. You can go now.” He mutters in a monotone voice, and back to his papers he goes.
“Professor O’Hara… are you sure you’re okay, you seem… off.” You ask one last time.
“Like I said, I’m fine. It’s none of your concern, anyway. See you tomorrow for class, and don’t be late.” The venom in his voice makes you wince. You could cry right here right now.
“Did… I do something wrong?” You feel a ball form in your throat. It's when he hears your voice crack when he finally lifts his head and looks at you for the first time in a while.
Sitting in front of him just across the desk is his one weakness. He sees worry, sadness, and confusion on your face, immediately wanting to get up from his seat to take you in his arms and tell you that you can do no wrong and that you’re perfect. All he wants to do is comfort you in this moment, but he can’t do it in the way he wants to. He promised himself he'd distance himself. Partially to save his job but more so that he would prevent heartbreak.
The welling in your eyes only makes it 10x harder.
“Mama-“ the pet name slips and he instantly catches himself. He takes it back by substituting it for something more professional: your first name.
“… of course you didn’t do anything wrong. Everything is fine.” Miguel struggles to maintain his stoic front, but nonetheless still manages to keep it up, making sure you don’t know his true desire.
“Things are not fine.” You snap back. This makes Miguel look up at you from the papers in his hands.
“You don’t say hi to me when I come to class, you don’t look at me during lectures, in fact, you never look at me even when I’m talking to you, and now you’ve started calling me by my actual name… something’s wrong, so please, tell me.” You plead, inching closer to his desk.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m your professor. Besides,” he looks down at his paper again since looking at your pout was becoming unbearable, “I’m sure you’d prefer attention from someone else.” He adds, but this time, there’s actual emotion behind those words. Up until now, he has been incredibly bland, but that last statement was lined with something… like jealousy.
You started thinking. You began to connect the dots.
The only thing that had changed in the past few days was the new transfer in the class.
You had gotten along with him very well, even sitting next to each other every class and leaving together.
It clicked.
“Professor O’Hara… I’d say you’re jealous.” Your pout grew into a cheeky smile, seeing right through Miguel now.
His eyes widen, shooting you an appalled look.
“Well, I’d say you’re sadly mistaken. That’s a ridiculous accusation.” You knew you won when he got defensive. He tries to play it off by retreating to his paper again, but it’s pretty evident you stroke a nerve. His fist clenched around the poor ink pen in his hand.
“Oh my God… you’re totally jealous.” You’re completely smiling now, holding back a giggle since you didn’t want to ridicule Miguel to his face. But you had to admit, it was cute.
“And who could I possibly be jealous of, hm? Enlighten me.” He looks up at you through his glasses, the fine line along his brow creasing as he raises it.
“Well, the transfer, of course! How did I not realize!” You allow a chuckle to slip as you confront Miguel.
Miguel responds with silence, cowering back to ungraded papers.
“Awwwww, Professor O’Hara… he’s gay.”
You laugh as you say this. Miguel stops writing to look at you again, his gaze finally softening with small glints of hope.
“… he is?” He asks softly, his hard facade thrown away at last. There he is. There’s that big, soft, kind loser you knew.
“Yes! He’s as straight as a circle!” You chuckle some more. Miguel furrows his brows as he tries to make sense of the situation.
“But you two are always so… touchy. I just assumed that… ” You roll your eyes at Miguel’s oblivion. He’s so cute.
“Oh my goodness, that’s normal! He’s like one of the girls! We're just best friends.” Miguel’s shoulders seem to relax as he sits in relief. His lips begin to curl. He’s not sure if he’s smiling because now he knows you aren’t interested in that guy or because he’s making you smile and laugh.
“Well then, that’s- that’s good to know, mama… because, you know,” he clears his throat, “I wouldn’t want anyone to bother you, is all.” He lies. He looks back down at his paper to hide his growing smile. He shouldn’t be this happy about a student’s lack of a romantic interest.
You break into a fit of giggles at it all, shaking your head as you make your way around his desk, “oh, Professor O’Hara, you’re honestly too cute…” Miguel sees you coming in the corner of his eye, assuming you’re going in for a hug, but instead, you bend down to press a tender kiss on his sculpted cheekbone, pulling back with a soft mmmmmmmmmwah!, The small smack! Of your glossy lips making him look up at you with hooded eyes.
Miguel can feel his face warm up, a tingly sensation taking root at his cheek and spreading to the rest of his body. Miguel is in the clouds, looking up at you as if you were an angel that descended from the heavens (to him, you are). It took every bit of restraint to not pounce and absolutely smother you in sloppy kisses. Not yet.
You reveled in your successful advance, smiling down at him as you twirled one of his small curls at the back of his head. He looked absolutely adorable like this. The lipstick stain on his cheek makes you chuckle. It was a little funny; you had this man, twice your size who wore a scowl the majority of the time, absolutely hypnotized. You lean against his leather chair, your elbow resting on its shoulder. You speak sweetly, cocking your head to the side.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?” He slowly nods, still in a daze with the lipstick stain on his cheek. You go to fix his glasses, pushing them back up to their respective spot on the bridge of his nose.
“Mkay, good. Have a nice evening then, Professor, and get some well-deserved sleep, kay? Thank you for helping me. You’re the best, as always.” You trail back to your bag and start to leave, practically skipping.
He can feel his dick twitch under the tight fabric of his pants with each praise and sway of your hips. It’s like you've put him in a trance. He's completely forgotten why he was mad or sad in the first place.
Of course, you wanted to kiss him on the lips, but you don’t wanna go too fast, either. You didn’t want to seem easy, but it was so damn difficult not to with those plump lips of his. Then your eyes went to other places, like his meaty thighs and the way his stomach spilled out of his khakis, his hard cock print just below his pudge leaving very little to imagination.
“Oh, and please,” Miguel shakes out of the fog, “It’s ‘Miguel’, mamita.” He smiles at you.
You smile back at him and wave goodbye, “See you later, Miguel.” His name in your mouth sounds like a siren song. You strut out of his office with the new knowledge of your professor’s infatuation with you. This whole time, you assumed he was just a really nice teacher. You didn’t think your feelings would actually be requited.
So that’s why he bought you all those clothes and gave you head messages!
And he definitely is fucking his hand in his office after that kiss! Isn't he just dreamy ?!?!?!?
< 3
The next morning, after class, you helped Professor Miguel clean up by wiping the boards for him. He was at the desk, piles upon piles of ungraded and unread papers awaiting his review.
You watched him, hunched over his desk, brows knitted, and looking stressed out of his mind.
"Miguel," he immediately perks up at your sweet voice.
"You aren't gonna do all that by yourself, are you?" You get closer to his desk.
Miguel chuckles and sighs as he looks at the comically tall pile he has to work on, "Have been for 5 years, mama. Now, you're not gonna volunteer yourself, are you?" He playfully mocks you, but he isn't really joking.
"Of course I am! There's no need to do all this by yourself. You work yourself too hard, Miguel." you start sectioning off a thick bundle of papers, but Miguel waves his hand in refusal before placing it on yours, "No, mama, thank you, but I can manage on my own-" you lightly slap off his hand.
"I am not asking. I will help you. I want to." You divide the pile into two, then pull up a chair next to him.
"Mamita, porfa, va ja. It's getting late and this takes hours. no quiero que tu camine a ete hora." He persuades softly as he lays his beefy arm across the back of your chair, making circles on your shoulder with his thumb.
"Well then, we better get started." You say with a pen already in hand and your first research paper in front of you.
Miguel responds with a deep chuckle in his throat, starting on his own pile seeing that he doesn't have a choice. He softly smiles, stealing a glance at you from time to time. He's just happy to be with his favorite person. His girl.
A/N: Yippie! A kiss! It's on the cheek, but still, it’s a step forward!! Finally! I hope you all enjoyed it!!! n tysm for all the love on this series < 3 I didn't think I'd stretch this out as much as I am pero liiiiiike he's all I think abt ur honor!!!
Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae !!
Tags < 3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @ce3stvu @helen-j-magnus @tatooieve @wait2nourh @angzlo @stargirrls @hyjionie @stargirrls @walmaerts @bammzyboomy
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zriasstuff · 2 months
Text
All because I liked a boy
Theodore Nott x reader
Before you scroll: THANK YOU FOR 314 FOLLOWERS RAHHH <<33 (the pi number is perfect) and special shoutout to @babygoddam who ALWAYS likes my shit first, you a real one. Feel absolutely free to send in requests (totally not because im running out of ideas)!!!!
Summary: Theo is dating Pansy, but is also seeing you secretly behind her back. What happens when you get sick of that and present him an ultimatum. Will it be her or you? And what if a unexpected friendship develops from all this?
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It’s your last year at hogwarts, so that makes you about 17/18 yo.
Everything about your clandestine meetups behind the quidditch field was morally wrong. As you’re walking up to your meetup spot, you feel the urge to stop yourself and go back to your dorm. You want to, and most importantly should stop making the same mistake again and again. But your lack of self control would be the eventual death of you.
Actually, no. Theodore Nott would be the eventual death of you. He was the reason for your lack of self control.
The freezing January air made it impossible to breathe, your red nose hurting from every drawn breath. Shivers ran through your body, all the way to your head where you were experiencing a first hand brain freeze. How was it possible that this is what your life has come to.
Through the foggy air, you eventually make out a tall and lean figure, approaching you with arms crossed and head down. Death has arrived.
“My bad on suggesting to meet up here in this crappy weather, but my dorm is occupied”, he breathed out while clouds of vapor escaped his mouth.
“What about the library then?”, you suggested. Any place inside would be better than this.
“No”, he decisively rejects your idea while shaking his head.
“Why not”, you ask.
“You know why”, he says, sounding increasingly annoyed.
“I don’t” You do. You know exactly why. You want to hear him say it.
“Don’t do this”
“I really don’t know”
“Stop, I really don't want to do this right now” Theo let out a repressed huff with his head lowered. One of his hands that was in his jacket pocket began ruffling through his hair. Whenever he was uneasy he did that.
“Fine”, you let it go. Truth be told, you were also afraid that you wouldn’t be able to digest what Theo would say. On one side, you knew that this was wrong. But on the other hand, admitting it was wrong meant that you would have to end it, otherwise it would make you guys horrible people.
Not that you weren’t horrible people now, but saying it just made it all the more real. Real is bad. Reality sucks. It was easier to hide in a bubble.
Theo looks you in the eyes again, assessing that this probably wasn’t a great time to do anything. But he didn’t want to make you feel like trash either.
“So how was your day?”, he awkwardly asks.
“We don’t have to do this, don’t pretend you actually care”, you sigh. His attempt was meant well, but it was futile. He could never make you feel fully cared for. And that was alright. You know you don’t deserve it anyway.
“I do care”, he exhales while nailing you with his intense stare.
“For your dirty mistress? How naive do you think i am”
“So you do want to do this right now” You thought you didn’t, but today seemed to be especially hard on you. Perhaps it was the stress from classes, perhaps it was the passive aggressive letter you got from your parents, or perhaps it was Theo barely acknowledging your existence in between classes.
“If not now, when then? I'm getting sick of not talking about it” It was time to face reality and put your fears aside.
“I thought you were okay with this”, he raised his voice confusingly.
“With being your side chick who can’t be seen or associated with you in public? Am I okay with seeing you prance around with Pansy, while I have to meet you out here like this?”
“Hey I'm not the bad guy who is forcing you to do this”
Theodore Nott wasn’t forcing you to do anything. No. He would just call you baby behind closed doors. Buy you flowers. Secretly spend nights with you. Anything a boyfriend would do, just without the emotional attachment.
And Pansy. His girlfriend he actually prances around with. His girlfriend who thinks she means the world to him. This slippery slope with Theodore down to where you were now started approximately four months ago. He had gotten into a really bad fight with her and at a party he started flirting with you. He lied about having broken up with her.
The worst part— you didn’t even find out up until two months later. In those two months he had obviously made up with her and didn’t end it, but he was sneaky. You had to give him credit for having juggled the two of you for that long without either noticing. You guess it helped that you were in Gryffindor. But after two months Theo got tired of being on edge all the time, so he decided to make his relationship with Pansy public again.
Why didn't you end it with him back then? Good question. All you remember is a bunch of unconvincing bullshit from him. But as unconvincing as it was, he gave you a sense of comfort. And although he didn’t make you feel fully cared for, he was still better than your supposed friends. Those two months you lived in the unknown were special, you had to admit. You felt special. But even the brightest spark eventually dies out.
“I know you’re not forcing me, but I'm getting fucking exhausted of this. And I feel terrible about Pansy”
“Why do you even care about her?”
“WHY DON’T YOU?!”, you suddenly burst out. Yes, he chose her over you because he had been together with her before you got together with him. Admittedly, he’s treating her better than you. But you don’t hate her. She actually didn't do anything. And unlike you, she isn't actively hurting you. It was so frustrating to know that you were choosing some guy over the “girls protect girls” vow. All because you couldn’t handle being alone again. Pathetic.
“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound Theo? Saying you like both of us, but in reality you treat both of us like shit.”
“Well what do you want me to do?”, he angrily asked.
“I'm giving you an ultimatum. Either you break up with me and stay with her. Or you tell her and deal with her breaking up with you. If she doesn’t, and if you also don’t, then I will anyway”
Perhaps it sounded a bit too extreme at the moment. You were definitely the last person to talk about morals, but it wasn’t too late yet. In the long run, it would benefit Theo too. A huge weight was finally going to be lifted off of your shoulders.
“Please, you’re not thinking straight”, he pitifully pleads in a last attempt to escape his responsibility and ultimately reality.
“I mean this works just fine. Pansy is happy, I can make you happy, and i promise you won’t feel like a dirty mistress”
A scoff is all you’re able to respond with. “You got until the end of the week, otherwise I will immediately cut off any ties with you”
Are you as important to Theo as he says you are? It’s wrong, but innerly you wish that he would break up with Pansy without telling her. That would be ideal for you. Freaking Theodore Nott, who showed you what kind of person you really were.
The next day, you caught Theo and Pansy making out in the hallways. “Ugh get a room”, you think to yourself. The day after, still no change. And on the day after that, everything was still the same. And as one could imagine, on the fourth day, still nothing.
With Friday approaching, Theo would only have two more days to make his decision according to your ultimatum. Perhaps he thought that you didn’t mean it seriously, but you did. You swore to yourself that if after two days still nothing happened, you’d break up with him. “Break up”, as in quit being fuck buddies, it wasn’t like you were in a real relationship.
Consumed by your own thoughts, you apparently missed McGonagall's announcement. Suddenly half the class was packing their stuff and getting up.
“Hey what’s going on”, you ask a guy sitting in front of you.
“Did you seriously not pay attention?”, he hisses.
“What do you think, smart-ass, since I’m asking you right now?” This was not the time to be lecturing you.
“We got a new seating arrangement, she just read out all the pairs who are going to be sitting next to each other. I think you’re with Pansy”
Shit. You swallow hard at the mention of her name.
“You sure?”, you ask dumbfounded.
“I mean she’s walking up to you right now”, he says shrugging his shoulders, “anyway gotta go”
You hope to fuck that he was wrong. But after turning around frantically, you observe that Pansy was in fact walking up to you. Out of all forty students, of course you would be next to her.
“Heyyy, looks like we’re going to be stuck with each other for a semester. Cute bracelet by the way, where’d you get it?”, she greets you in quite a chipper tone.
“You’re boyfriend actually got it for me after our first time”, is what you would say if you didn’t lie. Instead you reply “thanks, a friend got it for me but I don’t know from where”
“Y’know I actually have a really similar one”, she says as she’s sitting down next to you and pulls up her sleeve, “Theo gave it to me”. It was basically the same bracelet, just in gold instead of silver. So, what were the chances that Theo bought several bracelets in the same shop and just gave them out to whoever he fancied at the moment. Not even the slightest effort.
“How sweet”, you force yourself to say in the happiest tone you can manage.
“So what’s going on in your life?”, she continues the conversation, “I just realized that I barely know anything about you, even though we’ve known each other since year one”
You almost want to say “trust me, you don’t want to know what’s going on in my life”. Instead you say “nothing much, I’ve been thinking about maybe trying out for the quidditch team”
“Oh how cool, I’ve seen you fly in class, you totally should try out. You know during the last game between Slytherin and Gryffindor Blaise did this really funny thing where…”
What Blaise did, you’ll never know because you tuned out. But what you do know now is that Pansy is actually an incredibly nice person. In just five minutes she has shown you support, complimented you and began talking to you like you were her new friend. Perhaps she thought you could be friends. After the lesson ended, you felt almost carefree. You guys barely got any work done, but instead gossiped about anything that came to mind. Time practically passed away in seconds, and you were just hugging Pansy goodbye before going separate ways. Nothing felt weird at all until…
As you’re about to pull away from the hug, you catch Theo staring intensely from the corner of your eye. Was he suspecting something? Truth be told, you could’ve inquired more about his and Pansy’s relationship, but you decided to not be nosy. The less you knew, the better.
Later on, after you spent hours feeling like an empty shell of a human being, you slouch to your dinner table. During the day your thoughts felt like a huge, untieable knot, so you decided to ignore everything. When all classes ended, you immediately hopped into bed, rolling around, slowly rotting. Feeling nothing was better than thinking too much. There was simply too much. There was the question of whether you were a terrible human being, wondering if you should completely rebrand yourself, thinking about what Theo would do and about how it would affect Pansy, and so much more. In the end, nothing would be answered by just thinking about it.
Even while eating dinner, you have to restrain yourself from letting your most inner thoughts wander. Though, Pansy sure added fuel to the fire by smiling at you. Genuinely flashing you the purest, brightest smile. For no reason at all. Just to be nice probably. Instead of smiling back like a normal human being, you almost choke on your water.
This was it. You couldn’t pretend to be unbothered. You had to end it. You hated that option because it meant that Theo could escape from his responsibility, but it also meant that you could redeem yourself. Right? After all, you also carried some of that responsibility.
To contact Theo, you wrote “meet me at astronomy tower, important!” on a small piece of paper and slipped it into his hand after dinner was over. Hopefully no one saw that transaction. Since everyone always pushed another, it was only natural to bump into someone and touch their hand or arm.
Halfway on your way to the tower, you question if all this had been a huge mistake. Would you even have the guts to do what you had set out to do ? Theo could be so goddamn persuasive sometimes.
On your last few steps you lose a bit of balance and barely make it to the balcony, feeling like you would collapse any time soon. It even takes you a second to realize that Theo was already there. Before he turned around you just thought that it was some random guy.
“How were you faster than me”, you huff completely out of breath.
“I have my ways”, he says. “So why’d you want to meet me here”, he asks, seeming disturbingly nonchalant. As if he couldn’t guess the possible reasons.
“I want this to be as quick and painless as possible”, you begin. You gain an eyebrow raise from the otherwise collected looking guy.
“Let’s just officially end this. You and me. We are officially over.”
You were pretty sure that you didn’t sound as confident as you wish you had, but nonetheless you had done it. Officially calling the breaks would be your ticket to a normal life again. Whew did that feel freeing. But this wasn’t fully over yet.
“I thought it was up to me”, Theo sounded agitated now.
“Well i changed my mind”
“That’s not fai-“
“Seriously, Theo, you want to talk about fair ?”
“So what if i told you that I would’ve chosen you over Pansy”, he tells you while throwing his arms around. “You just want to give up like a coward?”, he spits at you, blowing up in anger and disbelief. His widening eyes and clenching jaw told you were enough to convince you that he was full on serious.
Is that what you were doing? Giving up on something genuine? You never thought about it in that way. Sure, your connection to Theo was undeniably strong, but were you ready for actual commitment?
“You don’t get to say that”, you defensively say as you take a step back. He immediately gets in your face again.
With tears forming in your eyes, threatening to spill out, and quivering lips, you try your best to curve your mouth upward and take your last stand.
“I am not giving up. We never had anything to begin with because you were a coward.”
He steps even closer, his nose touching yours. His dead brown eyes looked hauntingly beautiful in the moment. “But don’t you see, I want to give us a try”
“I CAN’T DO THIS THEO”, you yell in his face, not caring that your tears streamed down your face. All that bottled up anger came down to this. “WHAT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, THERE IS NO US.” Just as you say that, you frantically tear off his gifted silver bracelet and throw it in his face. “We��re done Theodore” are your last words before storming off.
When you notice him following, you run even faster, yelling “STOP FOLLOWING ME FOR FUCKS SAKE”. Eventually you stop hearing his footsteps, and you allow yourself to break down in an empty corridor. You keep muttering “it’s for the best” as a way of reassurance, but you don’t even know if that’s true anymore.
That night you went to sleep, wanting nothing but to drown out everything. Instead you got a fucking nightmare about the entire events at the astronomy tower. Only, you were watching from the third person point of view this time.
Luckily, as you wake up, you realize that it was a Saturday, so you could be in peace a little longer. Apparently you also woke up pretty late because you were alone in the dorm. Great, your “friends” didn’t even bother pretending to include you. It was always like that. They were nice to your face, but actively excluded you. What was it about you that alienated you from everyone?
*BANG*
HOLY FUCK.
You suddenly jolt up and watch Pansy come through the door. She looked furious and extremely messy. You notice her heavy eye bags and smeared mascara.
“YOU WANT TO TELL ME WHY THE FUCK YOUR BRACELET WAS ON THEOS NIGHTSTAND?!?”, she shouts, probably loud enough for everyone in Gryffindor to hear.
“What are you talking ab-” It was mid sentence when you realize that you in fact threw your bracelet in Theo’s face yesterday and that Pansy recognised it from McGonagall's class.
There was no point in lying. “Pansy please I can explain”, you desperately choke out, feeling a knot in your throat.
“Fuck you. I actually liked you, but i guess you are just another snake”
Before you can actually explain yourself, she already left. All by yourself, you begin to sob. Perhaps your “friends” were right in excluding you. You wouldn’t even want to be friends with yourself.
This mess you were in— what if you never went to that party where you met Theo? But that wasn’t even the most important part. You had to find a way to make it up to Pansy.
Argh this is it…for now ? So if you read the deleted original fic “Baby”, you will recognise the first part, but not the rest. I asked if you wanted a pt.2, but then i realised i could just make all of it into one, longer part. I really really hope you found this if you read “Baby”. And who knows maybe this storyline will continue.
Also thank you for the people who commented, i tagged y’all (except for two i couldn’t find), so you could find this more easily. @onyxwingsandcrowblackdreams @princessofsilverandserpents @pumpkinchee @laur20a23 @ladyblablabla @the-mrs-malik-styles @boomdolle @mmeskywalker
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rafesfavgirl · 1 month
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jj maybank headcanons
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pairing: bf!jj x fem!reader
context: jj maybank as your boyfriend.
words: 657
warnings: definitely +18. mdni. daddy issues, marijuana use, alcohol use, abandonment issues, attachment issues, physical and mental abuse, SMUT
jj's 100% the definition of a "golden retriever" boyfriend.
your relationship doesn't start out all sunshine and rainbows at first, though.
y'all were definitely a friends with benefits to lovers story.
at first, y’all kept it completely physical because you were both afraid of getting too attached and hurting each other.
jj felt like this, especially. he just didn’t think he was good enough for you.
but even when y’all were just fucking, he’d do the sweetest things for you. including making sure you were all cleaned up afterwards.
once you started dating though, the sweetness only amplified.
he doesn’t have much money, but he ALWAYS brings you flowers that he’s picked from somewhere—whether that be some kook’s garden, the country club, or even outside the chateau.
you are his absolute number one priority and the most important thing in his life.
you’re his ray of sunshine.
whenever things get bad at home with luke, you’re the first person he comes to.
when luke hits him and he shows up at your door with bruises, you nurse him back to health.
when luke talks down to him and makes him feel like a piece of shit, you reassure him that he’s not.
“you’re perfect, j. it’s not your fault.”
he’s terrified of losing you.
sometimes he thinks you’re going to see all his flaws and leave him just like his mom did. you always tell him otherwise, though.
“i’m not going anywhere, baby.”
when he gets anxious after all the pogues start fighting, you squeeze his hand three times and that makes him feel better.
he’s convinced he doesn’t deserve you.
he always takes you out on adventurous little dates—and sometimes, y’all get in trouble for it.
you’re his number one surfing buddy.
he was the one who taught you how to surf.
your family’s the family he’s never had.
he loves when your family invites him over for dinner and he gets to play with your little siblings, who absolutely adore him.
when you and the pogues smoke together, his favorite thing is when you hold the joint out in front of him and let him take a hit that way.
you always help him with his party trick when he tries to do it on the hms pogue.
you’re the only one who can keep up with him when it comes to taking shots and drinking. john b, pope, and kie always tap out.
sometimes you get insecure about his close friendship with kie, but he always assures you that it’s only you.
“i love you. you got that?”
his favorite nicknames for you are mama, princess, baby, and baby girl.
you’re the only one he’s ok with addressing him by his full name—jesse james.
don’t think everything’s perfect though, sometimes you fight too.
especially about guns. and jj getting into fights.
you always nurse him back to health regardless, but you hate when he gives in and scrambles with whoever.
fights are non-negotiable if someone says shit about you, though.
not only will he go against your wishes about him fighting, but he’ll make sure he wins.
speaking of jealousy, it doesn’t happen often, but he definitely still gets jealous every now and then. and he loves reminding you that you're his.
“you’re mine, princess.”
he’ll show you that in bed too.
and since it's jj, he's an ABSOLUTE FREAK in the sheets, and kinky as hell too.
he'll tie you up, eat you out, and make you cum over and over again until you beg him to stop.
he loves bending you over and fucking you while giving your ass a little smack.
he chokes you occasionally, but prefers pulling your hair.
he will lick anything off of you and tease your clit until you're squirming.
he definitely has a daddy kink too.
when you give him head, he loves giving you facials.
and his favorite position is your legs on his shoulders.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
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dotthings · 2 months
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You know who I feel sad for right now is Misha, because I think he wanted to be able to speak much much earlier than he was able to about Cas’s confession. We know he drafted an essay about Cas’s coming out…and then wound up not publishing it. Misha deserved to be able to talk about it in interviews the way Oliver Stark is able to about Buck. Misha mentioned it on zoom calls, briefly. And then it seems like he got yanked back by the PR machine and the nature of Cas’s confession wasn’t discussed on any SPN PR materials and for a time Misha was restricted on what he could say on CE Con stages.
At first, back then, for a few glorious days, I thought the stigma about queer Cas, about Destiel, had been lifted, finally, and then WB/CW brought the restrictions back down via PR. Oh you can have your confession scene, SPN, but corporate will control the narrative on how it’s spoken about or not.
We saw this thaw over time. (Anyone who claims otherwise or that Misha was always able to be open about it, is lying). Now Misha can speak openly about it and that shift began around the time when Chaos Machine really set up shop and changed a few con policies. So I’m happy for Misha that he can speak only about Cas being queer and what the confession means and Cas coming out, but he still has yet to be able to speak in depth about it in major PR. The openness about it comes out on con stage. At first it was non-CE Cons. Then finally he was more able to speak freely on CE Con stages.
Which leads me to another point, which is that, in fact, any of us who thought Cas was supposed to be in the series finale? We were right all along. The PR Misha filmed meant to mislead and misdirect about his last episode…PR misdirect to cover up so it could be a surprise, which makes sense and is sometimes how PR is run. Remember that the production shutdowns of the pandemic happened during the first days of filming 15.19. We found out eventually Dean and Cas were planned to be seen at the Roadhouse bar in Heaven together.
When they filmed 15.18 everyone thought Cas would at least cameo in 15.20. During the filming of 15.18 nobody directly involved knew how far Cas would be shoved out of the story, the actors didn’t know, the writer didn’t know, the director didn’t know, how far 15.20 would be stripped back, no one knew how reduced even mere mentions would be in 15.20.
I’ve talked about this before but a reminder how screwed the spn creatives who worked on 15.18 were, how screwed over the actors were.
You were right. If you thought that there was going to be at least some satisfaction and closure and Cas was going to have one more appearance before the end and it wouldn’t be able to be loud open canon, but something that implied mutual canon Destiel.
We were right. We were right all along.
Antis on twitter dot com can keep scratching and clawing and harassing and gaslighting and spewing phobic comments, denying what Jensen’s views are and dening that corporate censorship is real and that bi Dean is canonical via queer coding and queer Cas is now loud open canon and Destiel is mutual, via canon queer coding. Won’t change what happened here or that the intent was so, so much better and more than what 15.20 delivered, and the reason it fell apart was the production shutdown gave some parties high up too much time to think and then interfere and cut Cas out.
There is no more room to indulge media illiteracy and malicious denialism and trolling from antis.
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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heyy i was wondering if you could do like Lucifer x reader getting married if ,you want to ofc🫶
btw i love your work so muchh, thank you!!🫶(also english is not my first language so i hope i didn't write anything wrong)
Absolutely I Do
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
a little insight to your wedding with the king
[part ii (18+ only)]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• What would be a tamer version of a bridezilla? Not quite lashing out at everyone and their mother over the tiniest details but blowing a fuse when white roses arrive and he specifically asked for white gardenias?
• That would be Lucifer
• Asmodeus is his best man and the other Sins are his groomsmen, they’ll handle the flower debacle and any other matter that needs saving
• Good natured Charlie was given, arguably, the easiest task of holding onto the rings! She’s more than capable of planning the entire event on her own (and she asked to… twice) but Lucifer wanted her to enjoy this wedding as he wouldn’t be having another
• It’s part of why he wants this to go perfectly!
• He never thought he’d find another love after Lilith. He didn’t even realize that while you were delicately filling in the crater she’d left, he was falling more and more in love with you
• The other part, his pride and perfectionism aside, is that while it may be his second wedding, it’s your first. In his eyes you deserve only the best and he’ll be damned all over again if he doesn’t deliver
• You told your fiancé (FUCK he loved that word coming out of your mouth, almost as much as he was going to like husband!) to at least try to not go overboard. To which you received a “Me? Overboard? Darling, I would never! Simple and elegant, that’s what the headlines will say!”
• The many, many, many vision boards said otherwise. However you already knew damn well “simple and elegant” translated to grandeur and extravagant– and that’s exactly what it was. To Lucifer’s credit, it wasn’t gaudy or blinding. It really was a gorgeous spectacle
• Per his request it’s an all white event, a stark contrast to the overall location. The guest list is massive. After all, Lucifer’s still a king and certain people would be offended if they missed an occasion like this. Everyone goes all out. Bodies pour into chairs, everyone dripping head to toe in white garments and glamorous jewels
• Lucifer preened and primped, checking the mirror a couple hundred times and asking whoever was in the room if he looked ok. Anything less than “outstanding” had him groaning as he turned back to the mirror
• The wedding suddenly seems like a terrible idea. Not because he has cold feet (he’s rather sweaty, actually) but because the moment he sees you he just wants to steal you away
• You are positively and wholly breathtaking. The stars are jealous over how you outshine them! He can’t do anything but stare in amazement as you walk down the aisle
• Does he, Lucifer Morningstar, vow to protect, love, cherish and serve you for all eternity? Undoubtedly. He adds a few his own too like spoil you rotten, compliment you hourly, never ever never let you feel like you’re alone— all things he’s already done but wanted to make it “official”
• “It’s been an honor to be your confidant and friend… but I’m dying to do that and more as your husband.”
• Then do you take him to have and to hold, for better or worse, richer or poorer?
• “I do.” You answer proudly, squeezing his hands ever so slightly
• Forgetting present company, forgetting he’s a king and supposed to act dignified, Lucifer doesn’t wait to get permission to kiss you. He jumps slightly, knowing you’ll catch him instantly. Hugging your neck he crashes his lips onto yours
• You giggle against him, returning the kiss briefly before setting him down. (Hell knows he’d get carried away and forget much more if you didn’t)
• “I do believe you’re my husband now, Luci.”
• The entire wedding may as well have been a surprise party the way his eyes widened, as if it only just set in what the ordeal was for
• “Oh my golly, I’m your husband. I’m your husband! Hey everybody, I'm their husband!”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ don’t apologize, you did great friend! thank you so mochi and i hope you enjoy
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wonwayne · 4 months
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then because she goes ☁️ yang jungwon
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pairing : idol!jungwon x gn!reader genre : angst, some comfort warnings : cursing, one violent thought word count : 0.8k
a/n : just read wuthering heights so here comes the brontë-infused angst !!
“—because you’re never home when you say you’ll be, and it’s actually— you— how much of an asshole do you have to be to think you can take me out on the one night i don’t want to? when i’ve cleared out my schedule in the evenings for months to be with you? this is the night you choose, and i have to go along with it?? that’s pretty fucking amazing, won. pretty fucking insane.”
jungwon kept quiet as your voice raised, aware that you were absolutely right. if he had really seen you as a priority, he could’ve worked quicker through a practice or left a team dinner early to get to you sooner. he wasn’t sure how he’d ever looked at that heavenly face — this heavenly face — and thought to pass up on it. and he certainly had no words of justification now, you staring daggers at him with heartbroken eyes. they took his breath away.
“i’m so sorry,” he said slowly, ready to be cut off at every next syllable. “i know i’ve been terrible these past few months. i’ve been meaning to make it up to you, really. i just—” he glanced at the clock. 8:14. was it worth saying? “i got a reservation at your favorite place, i thought you’d want—”
“you must not know me at all.” could a gaze pierce any harder?
jungwon attempted not to appear hurt. “i know your favorite restaurant,” he offered, half-playfully.
you shook your head. “you don’t know me. you don’t know how to listen.” you looked up at him forlornly. “i just told you i have no intention of leaving the house with you right now. didn’t you hear me? don’t you… ugh, can’t you…” you searched blindly for the right words. “can’t you just let me have my way for once?”
as soon as the question left your lips, you felt so hopelessly like a child that your whole body seemed to physically contract, surrendering its capacity to keep tears in. you were choking up.
jungwon took a step forward, some vague motion of aid, but you couldn’t bear to fall apart in front of him — the last thing you wanted was his assistance, him treating you like something small, something solvable. with a sharp pivot, you ran hastily into the bathroom and shut your boyfriend out. as soon as you did, your knees gave in and your body sank to the tiles, back pressed against the door.
when he came to knock, softly, desperately, you could feel the thumps through the wood.
“baby?” he sounded so gentle, it sent shivers down your spine. “can i— can i come in?” silence. “please?” silence. “if you want to be alone, i’ll go, but— i promise i won’t say a word.”
silence; then sobs, from your side of the door, so quiet they could’ve been gulps. jungwon winced, leaning back for a moment to tune out the weeping — otherwise, he knew he, too, would crumble in two seconds.
“darling,” he resumed after a pause, voice thin, practically begging: “please, please don’t cry. please, darling, y— love, you’re killing me. please. i love you. and i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. please.”
the bathroom grew hauntingly quiet. something in jungwon’s gut told him that any minute now, when he least expected it, you’d smash the door in his face and leave him bleeding there as long as one ethically could. not because that was your nature — obviously it wasn’t — but the noiselessness was terrifying, and at this point, he sincerely felt that he deserved nothing better for making you cry, if for nothing else.
an anxious eternity passed before the door cracked open, and jungwon could finally talk to you, face to tear-streaked face. only, everything he had planned to say deflated immediately at the sight of you.
you broke the silence this time. “i think we missed dinner.”
jungwon stared back at you, unable to control the pout taking shape on his lips and the tears welling in his eyes. “i missed you.” he shook his head, trying again: “i missed you.”
you brushed away his tears gingerly with your thumb, taking his whole body in your arms. it was the most natural thing you felt yourself doing all evening. “baby, i was right here,” you whispered, as if you needed to confirm your closeness through words, too.
“i know,” he sighed, “but you were gone forever. almost.”
“mm. something to consider next time you tell me you’re coming home at 7 and come at 7 in the morning.”
jungwon nodded firmly, taking your hands in his. “there won’t be a next time like that. promise.”
your silence sanctioned his resolve — no words were needed to confirm how you trusted jungwon to keep his promises.
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Text
Yandere Hare and Bunny Hybrids (3)
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Part 2
Once you’ve returned and washed the smell of the ‘outside’ off of you
Better make way for theirs
Chryst is taking over immediately smothering you with his scent 
Jared will eventually intercede only to do the same thing but the thing is he’ll let you move around
His bunny counterpart takes it quite personally when you don’t immediately drop everything to cuddle him
“Don’t you want to smell like me? To be held by me?”
“Chryssy, I need to go to the bathroom first.”
“Without me?”
Again Jared doesn’t need to hog you directly, especially when it comes to scenting
He’s already made sure he’s done it with the entire home
“Do you want to cuddle too Jared?”
“Nah it’s fine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“So you don’t want to cuddle? Not even a little bit?”
“....Fine. But only because you’re giving me those eyes.”
The good thing about your hybrids is that when you're around they wouldn’t want to be anywhere else
So you don’t have to worry about them kicking, curbstomping, pestering your neighbors
Or getting into concerning shenanigans
“So what’d you guys do today?”
“Nothin’ ” “Only waiting for you my bun!”
“Right. Well, miss Najimi called and said you were burying something in the yard.”
“That wench!” “It was Chryst burrowing again. I convinced him to close it up so that you wouldn’t fall in it.”
“Oh okay! She sounded so frazzled, I would have thought you were burying a body or something.”
“Yeah, we’ll have to apologize later...for spooking her.”
When you’re home you can trust that neither of them is especially eager to part with you
But if it’s going to be anyone it’d be Jared
Unless Chryst is trying out his latest plan
Otherwise, Chryst will be on your back…literally
“Chryst I didn’t say I’d mind doing piggyback rides but I’d prefer you keep your hands on my shoulders.”
“You don’t like where my hands are now?”
“Not really…can you at least stop squeezing my chest, please.”
“Haha no.”
Jared is so well-behaved you’ll trust him to organize dinner
“Jared this tastes great!”
“Thanks.”
“It’s real good, Jarry!”
“Whatever.”
“ I reckon it’s deserving of @##$@%!”
“Chryst!?”
“Dude, I’d never do that at the table that’s just indecent. Maybe on the couch later though.”
Life with your hybrids is as peaceful as you keep it
Keeping the peace is the least of your problems especially with so many....predators about
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theemporium · 4 months
Note
Could you possibly write something for Nico where he dates shy reader and he is all lovey dovey with her post game win when they celebrate together? Perhaps she wears his jersey? Thank you for considering. 🫶🏻
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to support Nico, it was more so the fact the games were a lot more intense and intimidating when you were in person.
You watched every game without fail, though usually it was from the comfort of your own couch whilst you were buried in one of his hoodies. And despite what people assumed, he didn’t mind. He knew you supported him. He knew that the second the game was over, you would be on the phone to him to tell him exactly what you thought of the game, always complementing the way he played regardless of whether the Devils won or lost.
And he knew games in person weren’t really your thing. You didn’t like the attention of being sat by the glass and, even though you got along with the other players’ families and friends, it still felt a little intense to be in a suite with them for the whole game. You didn’t like the pressure of having to keep up friendly small talk during the game, but Nico knew you would because you would have felt bad otherwise. 
So, in all honesty, he didn’t mind that you didn’t go to his games. 
But there was something that made his heart want to burst out of his chest on the games you did attend in person. 
“Fuck you, Panthers!” 
Nico huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at Jack’s antics. The boy was already one too many drinks deep into their post-game celebration after—by some miraculous turn of events—thrashing the Panthers on Jersey soil with a buzzing 6-1. 
“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” Nico teased, but the boy didn’t care as he grinned widely at his captain. 
“Give it a break, Cap, go back to making heart eyes at your girl!” Jack snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. He didn’t think Nico had let go of you since he had stepped out of the locker room. “We fucking broke the streak! We are allowed to celebrate!”
“Let him have his fun,” you said, your arms tightening to gain your boyfriend’s attention as he tore his eyes away from Jack to look down at you. His gaze softened in an instant and it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “You all deserve to celebrate the win after the rough streak.” 
“Hm, maybe we won because you were here,” Nico teased, though there was a sincerity in his words that made you think he truly believed his own words. “Wanna come to Montreal with us?”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Today was all you, I had nothing to do with it.”
“I don’t know about that,” Nico said with a massive smile on his lips as his fingers playfully tugged on the hem of the jersey you were wearing. “We lost the last five games until my girl walked in with her lucky jersey on. I think that’s all the proof we need.”
Your cheeks burned as you glanced down at the lucky jersey in question. It was an old jersey of his, maybe one from a year or two ago. He had given it to you near the start of your relationship, when he was leaving for his first roadie since you started seeing each other. You joked about buying some Devils merch to support him whilst you watched the games and he had handed you the jersey the night before he left. You wore it for every game you watched—or at least, you tried to. 
This had been the first game in a while you had worn it since you lost it in the process of moving apartments with Nico, into an apartment big enough for the two of you.
“You hockey players and your superstitions,” you murmured, tucking your chin against your chest to hide how flushed ‘my girl’ made you.
But Nico was one step ahead of you as his hands moved to cup your cheeks, lifting your head until he could look down at your flustered face with a soft smile. “I heard kissing the captain after a win gives the team good luck for their next.”
You laughed and his expression brightened. “Yeah?”
“Mhm, an old hockey legend,” Nico nodded. 
“Well, you gotta kiss him now!” Jack exclaimed from the other side of the table. “We need the luck!”
You laughed harder as you wrapped your arms around his waist once again and grinned up at him. “I think I can get behind that superstition.”
And Nico barely gave you a chance to finish your sentence before he leaned down to kiss you, his smile pressed against yours.
.
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thelostmagicians · 11 months
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Unlucky | Lip Gallagher
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Summary: Lip Gallagher has a shitty life, but he still has a chance of a happy future with you. [2.4k]
Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Lip
Lip Gallagher has always considered himself unlucky for as long as he could remember. If you asked him to describe his life in three words he’d use shitty, shitty, and extremely shitty.  
He was dealt a crappy hand since the beginning not standing a fighting chance even as a kid. 
There was always so much crap to deal with, whether it was bills that needed to be paid, kids that need to be taken care of, or anything dealing with Frank and Monica, sometimes he felt as if the weight of the world was resting on his chest and the only breath he’d be able to take peacefully would be his final one. He’s grateful for all the help he has because everyone pulls their weight as much as they can, but sometimes he just wishes life was just a little bit kinder to him. He wishes that he was able to do something with his high IQ, make something of himself and finally get out of this hell hole, but that didn’t roll over so well. But just as he was slowly losing hope the universe finally took pity on him and gave him you, so now he’s hanging onto you with everything he’s got. 
_
It’s quiet in the Gallagher household when Lip shuffles out of bed. He can’t remember the last time he was able to sleep past 7am, so when he wakes up to birds chirping at 9am instead of the usual yelling and chaos, he’s surprised and even a little scared. He makes his way towards the bathroom getting ready to fight whoever is next in line, but finds it empty and even clean. He’s shuffling around, looking through doors to find a sense of life in his otherwise loud home when he hears a squeal from the backyard. He doesn’t think twice before grabbing a nearby bat and hurtling through the backdoor towards the pool, but he stops once he sees the atmosphere is anything, but fearful. Frannie is being tossed back and forth between Carl and Mickey in the pool, Fiona and Ian are chasing Liam with the garden hose and Debbie is bringing in watered down lemonade from the kitchen. 
He has no idea what caused this change of pace, but he isn’t mad about it. Just as he’s about to make himself known, he feels a soft touch caressing his back. 
“Hey baby,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his neck. 
He turns his head at your sweet voice finally fully awakening his sleepy trance. Lip tugs you towards him by the belt loops of your, too short, cut off shorts and breathes into your neck. Hands slowly creeping down towards your ass to grab and pet, not socially acceptable in front of family, but he couldn’t care less. 
“Hi, sweetheart,” he rasps into the valley of your chest, slightly picking you up to hug you closer. “What’s going on out here?”
“Thought everyone could use a day off especially in this heat, so Debs and I planned a pool party. Wanna join me?”
He pulls back on slightly to finally get a look at your face, your eyes are kind and happy followed by a mischievous smile. 
“Sure, let me get my trunks on and I’ll be down soon.” You reward him with a soft peck on his chapped lips and an arm squeeze before moving out of his hold and grabbing some leftover toast. 
The day goes by without a hitch. Everyone enjoys the much deserved break filled with laughter, junk food, and only a few fights. You’re nearly on top of Lip as you cuddle as close as you can basking in the happiness before you get ready to go out. There are only a handful of days that you and Lip both get off at the same time, so any day given is taken as a golden opportunity to spend some time together, leaving your worries at home. You plant a small peck to Lip’s cheek before untangling yourself from his hold as he answers the ringing phone. 
You don’t hear much of the conversation, just faint hmms of acknowledgement as you're flying past rooms trying to get ready as fast as you can. You’re struggling with your heels as Lip comes over and steadies you, your smile meeting with his frown.
“Sweetheart, they called me in to cover someone else’s shift and you know I hate to do this, but they’re offering me time and half..” he trails off.
A quick look of disappointment flashes on your face, before you cover it up with a reassuring look. You’re disappointed, sure, but not at Lip. Never at Lip. Just the shitty circumstances that forces the both of you to work as much as you can just to make ends meet.  
“It’s okay, I get it. We can always reschedule, don’t worry about it.” You pull him in and hold on to his waist hoping to ease his guilt, but your efforts go to waste as his eyebrows stay furrowed and his frown deepens. 
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear it,” Lip murmurs against your lips before squeezing your arm and letting you go. 
You watch him leave, slowly pulling off your heels and plopping yourself on the old couch, sighing already missing Lip. Your eyes shift trying to think of things to do now that your night opened up, but your mind keeps drifting back to Lip. You had eaten dinner earlier with everyone, skipping out on dessert and opting to get your fill when you go out, but now that plans have changed you were now missing both your boyfriend and something sweet to nibble on.
You quickly change out of your clothes and put on a pair of old shorts before deciding to make a batch of brownies. Lip works hard and if you guys couldn’t go out for dessert tonight, then you were going to bring dessert to him. 
He’s halfway through his shift when he spots you coming in, hands holding a tupperware to your chest. 
“Honey, what are you doing down here,” he shouts from across the room.
“Wanted to spend some time with you before I leave for my shift. I made some brownies since we missed dessert, care to join me?” you plead hopefully.
Lip’s heart aches with love and a lot of guilt. He can’t believe you would go through all that trouble just to see him. He calls out to say he’s taking his break before leading you to a secluded corner. 
“I’m really sorry about today,” he hugs you from behind swaying back and forth, mouth opening occasionally as you feed him a chunk of the sweet treat. 
You squeeze his wrist in response, “s’lright you can’t help it. I just like spending time with you.”
He smiles softly for the first time that night, stress immediately leaving his body. “Though, I love that you did all this for me, I don’t love the idea that you were walking alone this late at night.”
“Guess I’ll have to keep you company until you can walk me home then,” you compromise. 
Lip’s shift goes by somewhat fast now that you’re here to keep him company. He’ll leave his station sporadically to check up on you and to keep you from falling asleep. He’s in the final stretch now, only 30 more minutes before you get to go home and fall asleep holding each other, after a long day. He looks over hoping to catch your eye and send you a smile when he feels his face slowly morphing into a glare. A glare aimed at the guy standing way too close to you, a guy whose intentions go beyond a friendly conversation, and a guy who on paper was everything you deserved, but Lip couldn’t be. 
You finally glance at Lip sending a small wave and smile as you keep nodding along to the fucker next to you. He had fluffy brown hair and honestly looked quite plain if it wasn’t for the gleaming rolex on his wrist and the shiny Gucci emblem on his belt. He was a rich kid, probably from the nearby university, wasting away mommy and daddy’s money, chatting up pretty girls and sweeping them off their feet with his money. Lip’s never felt insecure about your relationship, you never gave him a reason too, but once he compares his ratty jeans and stained shirt to the pristine polo of Richie Rich he can’t help but wonder if he’s good enough for you when you can do so much better.
_
Lip was struggling. He never learned how to tie a tie before and now that the time has come, he’s racking his brain trying to get the knot perfect. He knew you couldn’t care less about a stupid tie, you were anything but superficial, but since that dreaded night when he witnessed you being chatted up by Richie Rich, Lip’s come to the conclusion that he was going to try his hardest to give you the perfect life. 
When Lip proposed going up to the north side for dinner, you were shocked. You’ve been there a few times mostly on walks or running errands, but you’ve never been there to spend actual money considering neither of you could afford it. The most you and Lip would do is windowshop and daydream about the things you would buy if you had the money, before being chased off by the glaring sales people.
He picks you up at your door, pecking your cheek softly and telling you how beautiful you look. He takes your hand and leads you to the borrowed car before pulling out an expensive bouquet from the backseat. Your hands flatter as you mutter a quiet thanks. You’re a little confused at the grand gesture since Lip’s never gotten you flowers before, at least not without reason. He’s gotten you flowers exactly four times since he’s known you: the first on your first date, the second for your graduation, and the last two times for your anniversary. And all those times the flowers were below 5 bucks, something he picked up from the corner store. But the bouquet he gave you now had to be worth at least a day’s salary, you and Lip had a mutual understanding since the start that since money was scarce you wouldn’t spend it on materialistic things for each other, but lately it seems like he forgot that promise. He’s been taking you out to eat nearly everyday, always putting money down and never letting you pay, surprising you with little gifts, but worst of all he’s been running himself haggard, taking up as many shifts as he possibly could. 
He notices your quiet demeanor as he starts driving, “You okay, baby?”
“Yeah, I just…” you hesitate, not wanting to offend him. “I’m grateful for all of this Lip, really I am, I love everything you’ve gotten me, but I’m confused about where you’re getting all the money from and why you’re doing all this in the first place.”
Lip tightens his grip on the wheel, “Isn’t this what you want? Isn’t this what all girls want?” Lip scoffs the memory of Richie Rich slowly coming into picture. 
“I don’t understand what changed, everything was fine before, why are you spending money you don’t have? You don’t think I know that you’re working yourself to death trying to afford this shit?” Your voice raises in annoyance. 
“Yeah, well that’s my problem, it’s none of your concern how I get all this as long as you get it.”
“It is when you’re burning money on materials that won’t even last the year instead of investing in our future.”
Lip pulls to stop as the words leave your mouth. “Our future?” He asks. 
You lick your lips, trying to think of a way to backtrack but his eyes plead with you to tell the truth. “Yeah, our future. You know when we eventually move out, get a place of our own and have a kid or two?”
Lip smiles at the thought, “You want all that with me?”
You nod incredulously, “What did you think this was you idiot? That we were just playing boyfriend/girlfriend? Look I appreciate all these gestures, but the way I see it you’re burning 50 bucks on flowers that are gonna wither in a week instead of spending that money on something like our future house.”
Lip cups your chin in endearment before pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, I let everything get away from me.” He huffs in frustration before letting your chin go and clenching his fists. “It’s just when you visited me at work a few weeks back you were talking to this guy. This very rich guy who… I don’t know… I know you aren’t like that, but I couldn’t help but think this is all I’ll be able to offer you, at least right now. I will never be able to whisk you away on a private jet or buy diamonds just cause.”
You giggle as you hold his face in your soft hands, his head tilting to lean into your palm. “Lip Gallager, for someone with an insanely high IQ, you are so incredibly stupid, ” He huffs out a laugh in embarrassment as you continue, “That guy, that fool was annoying as fuck. I was just trying to get him off my back. And not to mention incredibly fucking stupid. Everything that was coming out of his mouth made me cringe and thank the stars that you’re nothing like him.”
He kisses your palm before pulling you into another kiss. “Can we skip the fancy restaurant now?” you ask as he presses kisses to your pouty lips. 
“Where do you wanna go instead?”
“Family dinner, and then out for ice cream?” you suggest. He nods before putting the car back in drive. 
_
Lip Gallagher was all sorts of fucked up. But somehow in his fucked up life, he managed to find you, his light at the end of a dark, narrow, and gloomy tunnel and he thinks, maybe, he isn’t so unlucky after all.
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jessejaredstories · 6 months
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Lesson for a Lesson
Bryan considered himself to be a cut above the rest. He had always been the kind of guy to turn the other cheek when it comes to handling conflict with others. Even if they were the biggest asshole Bryan has ever met, he’d never stoop down to yelling vulgarities or other petty insults just to get back at them. He’d keep his cool attitude, stay respectful, and minimize future interactions; even if the person didn’t deserve as much as a single look in their general direction. Bryan held the title of always being the bigger person with pride, regardless of how haughty it made him look to others.
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However, Bryan’s high and mighty attitude would soon meet its biggest enemy yet when the new neighbor Mr. Martin moved in down the hall. Bryan didn’t think much of Mr. Martin at all when he first met him. Mr. Martin was a single man living on his own. He was pushing 40 and worked as a PE teacher/football coach for the local high school. All in all, Mr. Martin was a pretty ordinary guy. 
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As far as Bryan was concerned, Martin would just be another face he’d occasionally run into in their shared apartment building but ultimately ignored otherwise. And that was more or less how their relationship continued for the next month or so. They’d share pleasantries, but nothing else beyond that. They were friendly neighbors, at least until the first time they bumped heads. 
Their apartment building had an open access rooftop with a fully furnished lounge. Residents were free to make use of the lounge as they pleased. One day, Bryan decided to take his boyfriend up to the lounge so they could stargaze together out on the rooftop. While the two lovebirds were spending time together, Martin also happened to show up sometime later. He had brought his telescope to do some stargazing himself. Both parties kept to themselves for the most part. That is until Bryan and his boyfriend began to get intimate. Martin shot them a dirty look but then didn’t say anything at first. Only after a few minutes passed and the two boyfriends were still making out did Martin decide to speak up.
“Hey, I understand that you two are ‘in love’ or whatever, but can’t you go do that in a private room? This is a shared space after all, I don’t want to see that out here.”
Bryan didn’t appreciate the stern tone of voice Martin used with him. It made him feel small, like he was back in high school. He was just as much an adult as he was! But Bryan decided to bite his tongue. Martin had a fair point, it probably wasn’t very considerate of him to be full-on tongue kissing with his boyfriend out in public the way they were. So he apologized, took his boyfriend down to his place, and that was the end of that minor spat. 
But that incident turned out to be only the start of their problems. Soon after, Bryan decided to buy a new welcome sign for his front door. It was a pride welcome sign and had big rainbow letters on it. It only took a day until Martin was knocking on his front door, asking him to take it down. Naturally, Martin would never outright say he wanted it gone because of the rainbows, but Bryan wasn’t stupid. He knew how to connect the dots and read in-between the lines. Only a homophobe would be pushing so strongly for a pride sign to get taken, and Bryan would sooner drop dead than bend over for a bigot. He stood his ground, and Martin left with a scowl on his face. 
From that point on, Bryan and Martin were constantly at each other’s throats. Jab after jab and nonstop passive aggression. They continued having incidents and their animosity for each other only grew steadily over time. Bryan was getting fed up, but he never backed down nor did he ever blatantly disrespect Martin, even when he had no problem disrespecting him. It was an uphill battle, but Bryan saw a light at the end of the tunnel. His lease would be up for renewal soon. All he had to do was not renew his lease, move out, and he’d never have to see Mr. Martin ever again. It was simple! 
Or so Bryan thought. One morning, after Bryan’s boyfriend had spent the night over at his place, he received a very interesting text. One that would snap Bryan’s patience in half.
Babe! I ran into your bigoted neighbor in the elevator last night. I tried to ignore him, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept harassing me and when I wouldn’t talk to him, he started calling me a worthless fag. I’m okay, he didn’t touch me, but I wanted to tell you what happened. I’m not sure I feel comfy enough to go back to your place anymore. : (
Bryan read over the text a couple of times. Once he made sure he read it right, Bryan decided enough was fucking enough. He then slammed his phone down on the nightstand and marched straight to his closet. He never wanted to be the kind of guy who got revenge, but Martin crossed a line after he went after his boyfriend. And if Bryan was going to get revenge, then he was going to come at him at 110%. He had to dig through his things but he eventually found what he was looking for- a body swapping potion. 
Bryan plucked the tiny vial out of his closet. He had saved it for when he really needed to use it, and getting payback on a bigot seemed like the perfect time to use it. Before he could use it, he had to prepare for what comes after the swap. He pulled out a chair and made a makeshift rope out of some leather belts he had laying around. Bryan then proceeded to drink the potion, but instead of swallowing it right away, he held the brew in his mouth. It tasted rancid, but he held out. Bryan used the belts to tie himself up to the chair, completely immobilizing himself so that Martin couldn’t do anything in his body. He used a real knot technique too, just for extra security. Once he was satisfied with his setup, Bryan swallowed the potion and blacked out.
The body swapping potion took effect immediately. Bryan’s consciousness left his body in the form of a long, glowing, snake-like mass of matter. It slithered out of his body through his nostrils and plopped onto the ground. It then began its long journey towards its intended target. Bryan felt weird leaving his lifeless body behind, especially while knowing that Martin would soon be inside of it, but he carried on with his mission. Their swap would only be temporary after all; once Bryan had his fun, they’d switch right back. 
Bryan’s soul made its way to the nearby high school where Martin worked. Luckily, nobody was able to see it slithering by. It slithered into the faculty bathroom where Mr. Martin was just about finishing up his midday shit. Bryan’s soul squeezed underneath the closed bathroom door with ease and slithered right up to Martin.
“Hm?” Martin noticed something glowing out of the corner of his eye. He lowered the magazine he was reading and screamed when he saw the giant, translucent snake creeping up on him. Martin leaped up into the air out of shock with his pants still around his ankles. Big mistake. 
Bryan’s soul quickly expanded until it was the size of an anaconda. It then used its massive size to wrap around Martin, constricting his mobility. Mr. Martin was hyperventilating. He couldn’t move! All he could was watch as the tip of the glowing snake tickled the head of his exposed cock.
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A cold shiver ran through Martin’s body with the soul snake’s cool touch. The soul snake then forcibly wiggled its way into Martin’s dick slit. The sensation of getting penetrated made his cock harden up to full mast. Bryan’s soul then slithered down the length of Martin’s girthy member. Martin threw his head back as his body got taken over. He purred a deep, sensual mmm! as it happened. He could feel the cold feeling that started at his groin spread out to the rest of his body as Bryan’s soul took over his body for itself. 
The body takeover started off slowly at first, but as Martin’s body got filled with Bryan’s being, the process began to rapidly speed up. Suddenly, the entire anaconda started rushing into Mr. Martin’s body through his cock. Martin was gasping as the waves of pain rolled over his body. Luckily for him, it only lasted another five seconds. With one slurp, his now engorged cock swallowed up the last few inches of Bryan’s soul.
“Nrrghhh… Fuck…” Martin moaned. Those moans were the last thing Martin said before his body hunched over to throw up his own soul snake. Martin’s soul snake came rushing out of his mouth. Once it was out, it slithered out the bathroom, likely on its way to take over Bryan’s limp body. It left behind a smirking Mr. Martin, only this time, it was Bryan who was in control.
“Whew! That was easy!” Bryan said with his new, baritone voice as he stood up. Bryan immediately noticed the difference in their bodies as his consciousness adjusted to its new heavier, hairier vessel. His nostrils were penetrated by the strong yet familiar musk of his own hairy pits. He took a sniff of his new sweaty body odor and let out a loud, satisfied ahh! Bryan could literally feel how every new inch of skin felt as he moved around in Martin’s body. He then stretched out his new body, while also getting a feel for the thick hair he had all over his body. Bryan always had a thing for furry men, though he was never able to grow much body hair himself. To be able to takeover a hairy body like Mr. Martin’s was just icing on the cake for him. 
Bryan took a look at his reflection in the mirror, winked at himself, then stepped out of the bathroom, ready for revenge. He had one hand on the doorknob while using his other hand to jerk off, making sure he was still nice and hard for what he was about to do. An evil grin formed on his face. It was go time.
Bryan stepped out of the faculty bathroom ass naked with his erect cock swinging around freely. He wore a proud smile on his face as he displayed his hairy body in full display. He then wrapped a hand around his cock and proceeded to jerk off ferociously. Bryan made sure to exaggerate the volume of his moans and groans to make sure any nearby faculty heard him. Surely enough, someone heard him, and they stepped in to see the glorious sight of revenge live.
“WHAT THE FUCK!? MR. MARTIN HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!?” the man shouted. He drew the attention of other nearby adults, who all came in to see what was happening. All of their jaws dropped to the floor as ‘Mr. Martin’ laid down on the table, naked and grinning.
“What do you mean? It’s my lunch break, brah! I deserve to have a little stress relief before I go back to teaching those cocksuckers- I mean, wonderful students! Hey, do any of y’all happen to have sweaty socks on right now? I could reallyyyy use a hand, I wanna finish quickly and my pits aren’t enough to get me there.”
Bryan lifted his arm and took a deep, loud whiff of his dank pit smell. The sight of watching Bryan lick up the droplets of sweat forming on his pit hairs made some of the standby faculty gag. They began to disperse.
“Shut the door to the faculty floor! We can’t let anyone else find out about this!!”
“I-I’ll go call a therapist, he’s definitely gone insane…”
“What’s the matter with y’all? Pshhh y’all act like you’ve never seen a dick before! Don’t be afraid! Bask in the full glory of the male body!! Look at my beautiful, hairy body!”
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“Alright, Mr. Martin, let’s just take some deep breaths and get some clothes back on…”
“MAN FUCK Y’ALL!! Y’all some lame ass bitches! I don’t need y’all, I’ll just finish myself off!” Bryan lifted his leg high up in the air. His puckered up, hairy asshole was now on display for all to see.
“Here’s a cool biology fact for y’all! Did ya know you don’t need to go that deep to reach the male g-spot?” Bryan licked up his middle finger until it was soaked with spit. He then reached over to his ass, rubbing around his hole until his finger slipped in with ease. He let out an obscene moan as he fingered himself. “You really need about a knuckle’s length to get to the prostate, you just gotta- AWW FUCKK!! I found it!”
Bryan began jerking off and fingering himself at exaggerated speeds while howling and grunting like a monkey in heat. He accidentally farted while fingering himself, and the smell of his flatulence combined with his sweaty musk to create a particularly potent odor. He made sure to make a display of him sniffing up the strong smells while the audience covered their nose. He kept the act of intense masturbation up for another minute or so, really letting himself get into character, until finally climaxing. Bryan quickly pulled his finger out of his ass and used both hands to pump his cock. 
“Ohhhh fuckkkk that feels soooo gooood…!!” Bryan went cross-eyed as he slowly stroked his throbbing cock with the firm grip of his man paws. The pressure of trying to hold it in was building up, making for an extra strong orgasm that Bryan couldn’t help but give himself into. “Get ready y’all… Here comes Old Faithfullll!!”
Just as he advertised, an eruption of jizz came flooding out of Bryan. His whole body was twitching from orgasmic pleasure, but he managed to hold himself together just enough to point his cock around. He became a squirt gun as he shot load after load of warm, sticky cum all over the faculty lounge and himself. The whole place became covered in his seed, leaving him huffing for breath after such an intense climax. Any remaining faculty had evacuated once they saw what was about to happen, leaving Bryan alone in the lounge.
“Alright… Mission accomplished…” Bryan said with bated breath. “I just… I just gotta switch back…”
Bryan was satisfied. Not only did he completely destroy Mr. Martin’s reputation, but he’ll be coming back to his body naked and covered in jizz at his own workplace! Bryan was sure he’ll be absolutely humiliated, especially considering how many witnesses saw ‘Mr. Martin’ lose his shit in public. 
Bryan steadied his breathing in preparation to swap back to his own body. He had paid top dollar to get the most premium potion money could buy. The body swapping potion was special in that all he needed to do to switch back was simply think about! He focused his mind, thought about what he wanted to achieve, and willed himself back to his body! 
…But nothing happened.
Bryan opened his eyes to find himself still in the teacher’s lounge inside of Mr. Martin’s body. 
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He wasn’t sure what he did wrong. He tried again but to no avail. He tried swapping back with his mind again and again but no matter how many times he tried, nothing happened. Bryan was quickly growing nervous, especially as he heard police sirens coming nearby. He tried several more times but it was futile. Bryan was arrested for public indecency as Mr. Martin before he could swap back to his original body. Bryan was in deep shit and he knew it.
The next three days were absolutely miserable for Bryan. He had spent those days locked up and berated for what he did. He hated every second of it. All he wanted was to get back inside his own body and run back into the arms of his beloved. No matter Mr. Martin. No more misery. No more pain.
Bryan pleaded guilty on all charges and took a plea deal in order to avoid jail time. He paid a hefty price for his freedom; a total fine of $50,000, 100+ hours of community service, house arrest, court mandated therapy, and he had to register as a sex offender. But Bryan didn’t care, they weren’t tied to his real identity after all.
Once he was out, Bryan traveled back to his apartment as fast as he physically could. He made it back to his apartment in record time and used the secret key to get inside. He was praying to God that his body would still be sitting there tied up in the chair, just waiting for him to return. He opened the door and his heart immediately sank when he saw an empty chair and torn belts. Bryan dropped to his knees. His eyes began to tear up. He noticed there was a sheet of paper sitting on the chair. Bryan crawled over to it. It was a handwritten letter, and it read: 
Hey there! First off, I want to thank you for switching bodies with me. To tell you the truth, I’m not the real Mr. Martin. The original Martin is looong gone now after so many swaps. But me, I actually used to be just like you. I was gay and pissed off at Martin, and like you, I decided to body swap with him to teach him a lesson for his homophobia. But then I found myself in the same situation I’m sure you’re in right now. I couldn’t swap back to my original body. For some reason, Mr. Martin’s body won’t allow its owner to leave. Only someone else can initiate a swap with Mr. Martin. I’m really sorry man, but I can’t go back. I won’t go back! I’m stealing your body for myself. My mind has been trapped in that homophobic body for God knows how long, just swimming around in that vile hatred… I want to be my own person again. I’ll be praying for you, I hope someone swaps with you before Mr. Martin’s body corrupts your mind, but considering how quickly it took over mine, it’s not looking good. Again, I’m so sorry. Best of luck. PS - Don’t worry about your boyfriend, I’ll be sure to love him just as much as you did and more! He’s safe with me. Bryan. 
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Bryan was dumbfounded by the letter. He was even more dumbfounded by the pictures of himself. He had no memory of taking those pictures, which could mean that someone else took those photos with his body. Bryan swallowed the lump in his throat. The walls around him seemed to be closing in. He tried pulling himself together but was failing. Shriveling on the floor, Bryan began repeating a mantra to himself in an attempt to hold onto his identity.
“My name is Bryan, and I am a proud gay man… My name is Bryan, and I am a proud gay man… My name is Bryan, and I am a proud gay man… My name is Bryan… And I am a proud gay man…”
Bryan repeated that mantra out loud every single day from there on out. He said it as many times as he could before his throat got irritated from talking so much. He did everything he could to remember who he truly was. Everyday he studied gay history, watched only queer romances, did his favorite things, and even journaled his thoughts and feelings.
Days became weeks, and slowly but surely, Bryan was losing his grasp on his original identity. He gradually stopped following his routine. He forgot his identity mantra. He even began referring to himself as Mr. Martin. He had lost himself as his mind and soul merged with his new body. 
But while Bryan was gone, Mr. Martin was living the easy life. He was a single man living on his own. He was pushing 40 and worked as a busboy at a local restaurant. All in all, Mr. Martin was a pretty ordinary guy living an easygoing life.
The only real problem Mr. Martin had had to do about the new neighbors that just moved in across the hall from him. They were two young men sharing a single bedroom apartment. Mr. Martin never really cared to know his neighbors all that well, but he recently found out the new neighbors were actually a gay couple. He recently spotted them kissing in the hallway through his peep hole the other day. The sight of them kissing irked his soul, and he planned to ask them to not exhibit that kind of behavior out in public around the apartment building again. Surely, they won’t have a problem with it. Right?
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emmyrosee · 2 years
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sssssSSSHHHHHHLEAVEMEALONE-
————
You’d gone to bed angry last night.
It was a promise you’d made to each other long ago, back when you’d gotten into your first big fight in the early months of your relationship, to never go to bed angry, to work through and compromise with whatever problems plagued your love. No one deserved to go to bed thinking their partner was angry at them.
But when Bakugo spit his venomous words, turned on his heel and slammed your bedroom door shut last night to leave you with the shattered heart he’d just created, your feet couldn’t even begin to move towards the closed door. You didn’t want to face him, want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how bad he hurt you, and if he so badly didn’t want you in bed next to him, who were you to try and convince otherwise?
So, wordlessly, you climbed into the scratchy, lumpy couch he’d seemingly banished you to, and you pulled the too-small, too-thin blanket over you, and stared at the leather of the couch for the next six hours, the clock ticking all the while.
The rest of the morning was a blur; showered, brushed your teeth and had a cup of tea in the silence of it all, you’d finally found it in your means to make something to eat, and you’re also finally reminded of why you didn’t want to do that in the first place when a sleepy, albeit still tense Katsuki shuffles his way into the kitchen to face you for the first time since he’d yelled at you.
“Hey,” he mumbles, a calloused hand carding through the blonde locks of bed head that he sported. You don’t spare him a glance, instead, you keep slicing the fruit for breakfast, barely acknowledging him with a quiet, almost bored, ‘hi.’
In your peripheral, he winced at your coldness, clearly not used to it, “I… uh…” he chews his lip, and it’s a side of Katsuki you haven’t seen since high school, timid and hesitant to even look at you for fear of rejection. He’s always so confident in his snide remarks and quick reactions, but now he looks so… scared, like you’ll smack him with the pan you’re cooking on.
“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” you mumble, breaking an egg in the pan and watching it sear under the heat of the stove. When you’re met with more silence, you force yourself to not look at the man you’d fallen so hard in love with, because you knew if you did, you’d immediately forgive him for the pain of last night.
“You didn’t come to bed,” he says, clearing his throat.
“You made it pretty obvious that you didn’t want me there,” your reply comes quick, and it silenced him immediately.
Then, the signals in your brain surge and cross as thick arms wrap around your waist and a face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and when you try to squirm out of his grip to be alone for even just a little bit longer before breakfast, the lips against your shoulder mumble out a quick, but sincere, ‘I’m sorry,’ and it finally causes you to still.
“I was shitty last night,” he continues. “I said dumb things to hurt you, and it… it wasn’t cool.” Fingers fiddle with the waist band of your sweats, but you know it’s more for search of your loving warmth than anything else. “I hated waking up without you. I always want you next me, I always want to kiss the corner of your eye to make you smile in your sleep, I always want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up. I don’t know how I knocked out last night without you. But this morning, when I saw you weren’t next to me, I just… Fuck, I can’t believe I ever-“
“Katsuki?”
He shuts up at the use of his name, whole body tensing and arms tightening even more around you, almost scared to loosen them. You sigh, “you just… hurt my feelings last night.”
He whimpers. So you rest a reassuring hand on his wrist.
“I know,” he swallows.
“I don’t understand why…”
“There’s not a ‘why,’” he sighs. “I just did, because I’m an asshole, and it was fucked up of me.”
You hum in agreement at his words, turning around in his arms to finally face him. His eyes look sunken in and they glimmer with a certain shame, but they’re still the eyes you fell in love with so many years ago.
“Please don’t talk to me like that again,” you whisper, fingers moving back a blond lock from his face. Meaty fingers wrap around your wrist to keep it close, and he turns his head to plant a kiss to your warm palm. “And… and no more going to bed angry.”
“We won’t, baby,” he promises, giving your wrist a reassuring squeeze. “I promise..” maroon eyes blink longingly at you before his pink pout curls into a small, rare smile. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper, allowing him to pull you into an easy hug. Your cheek nuzzles against his shoulder, relishing in the familiar feeling, “even if you are the worst man ever.”
He chuckles shortly, “I know, babe.”
“I mean like, an absolute monster-“
“Got it, I’m an asshole.”
“-worst creature to shamble the face of the earth-“
“I fucking got it, dumbass!” He snarls, using his force to shove you backwards against the counter, your arms instinctively tossing around him to brace yourself while giggles pour from your lips. “Enough fuckin’ guilt tripping!” The hands on your waist gently move to your lower back to keep them from getting bumped and bruised by the counter; even in his worst, he prepares himself to protect you from anything, no matter how mad he wants to pretend he is.
But you don’t discount the way you hear the smile in his voice, and when you feel it stretched out against the skin of your neck, the weight off your shoulders eases in realizing that you two would be fine.
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