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#He's gonna try to apologize a thousand times for “making you sleep on your back” but Jimmy won't let him
tubbytarchia · 2 months
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For the ranchers a bit more shleep i just really like charakters comfy and nice:Dc /nf
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Eepies. Jimmy woke up to really sore wings but its okay because Tango
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cntloup · 3 months
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UndergroundBoxer!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader angst, couple argument
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
moodboard | face
After seeing the look on your face, he comes to his senses. He looks shocked at his own behavior. Tears start to form in his eyes “I didn’t mean to do that, love. I'm so sorry.” he feels embarrassed. He feels like his father. And that’s the worst feeling he’s ever experienced in his whole life. He dreads the day in which he becomes his father and scares you away.  
You slowly open your eyes and anger replaces your previous fear “Give me the fucking car keys!” you burst out suddenly, averting your gaze from him. Your voice shakes him out of his trance as the tears roll down his cheeks. “Why? You’re gonna leave?” he asks nervously as he picks them out of his pocket and gives them to you hesitantly. You start walking towards the car, not looking at him the whole time as he begins to follow you. Has the time come? Is it today? The day that he dreads? The day that you leave him? He sighs in relief as you get in the passenger seat. He quickly gets into the car and starts apologizing. “Shut up! Just drive.” you snare at him coldly. He’s taken aback but obeys, nonetheless.  
The drive home is silent and full of tension. As soon as he gets into the driveway, you step outside the car and move towards the door with heavy footsteps. You fumble with your keys for a while since your hands are shaky and you curse under your breath in frustration and finally manage to get the right key and open the door. As you step through the door, Simon is behind you and tries reaching for you while calling out your name, but you get inside and slam the door in his face. He looks like a kicked puppy... and surely feels like one.  
He gets his own keys out of his pocket and finally walks inside. He finds you in the bedroom upstairs, fumbling around your stuff mindlessly as you try to digest wtf just happened. “Sweethea-” “Don’t, Simon! I've had enough of your bullshit tonight. So please just leave me alone.” he feels as though you’re a different person since you’ve never acted this cold towards him. He takes a long look at you. He knows it’s you... right here, standing before him. Yet you feel so distant.  
He gets his pillow and a blanket to sleep on the couch. After he settles for the night, he can’t stop thinking about that look on your face. He can’t get the image out of his head. The look of fear in your eyes as he raised his hand. But it would never land on you. Ever. He would never become his father. He thinks as his eyelids start to get heavy. He’s tired but can’t sleep until he sorts this out. But how can he?  
He thinks about what to say as he starts to make his way towards the bedroom, but nothing really comes to his mind except a thousand apologies. He lightly knocks on the door in case you’re asleep, but he knows you’re not. You can never sleep when you’re upset. “Love, open the door please. I know you’re up.” he knocks again after you don’t answer. “Go away!” you yell from the other side of the door. “Please let me fix this. I'm so sorry for what I did. But I want you to know I would never hurt you. That is never my intention. It was not in that moment either.” He goes silent for a while then you hear his hiccupped sobs through the door. It breaks your heart to hear it, but he has to learn his lesson. He slides his back on the wall, sitting on the floor, head in his hands, waiting for you to finally come out and forgive him. But you don’t till morning comes.  
You slowly open the door. Seeing him asleep against the wall shatters your heart. You lightly pat his shoulder, whispering his name. He suddenly jolts awake. “It’s ok. It’s just me.” you mutter as he starts rubbing his eyes and stands up. “Love, please forgive me. I can’t take this anymore. You being cold and distant. I know I fucked up but please let me make it up to you.” he pleads while taking a look at your puffy red eyes. He made you cry. How can he ever forgive himself? “Simon Riley, you really fucked up. Damn right, you have to make it up to me."
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
A/N: part 3?👀
@keiva1000 @preeyansha
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chaotic-mystery · 11 months
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what if instead of dbf joel it's ex-boyfriends dad joel 🤭 his son cheats on reader and reader goes to his house to confront him but it's just joel there and one thing leads to another... 🤭
A/N: This one is kinda filthy and Joel is a smidge of a perv, so keep that in mind. CW: SMUT (18+), choking, cheating, age gap, roughness, hatesex, dirty talk, pet names, perv!joel, you get the point.
You slammed your car door shut and stormed up the driveway at your boyfriend's house, ready to give him a piece of your mind about him cheating on you. If he thought for one second you’d just accept him cheating on you and then breaking up with you, he was sadly mistaken. Your hand curled into a fist ready to pound on the door when it suddenly opened, Mr. Miller staring at you in the face. “Hey, sweetheart. He ain’t home at the moment, is there somethin’ you needed?” his tone sounded innocent, he must not know. “Do you know what your piece of shit son did to me? Did you fucking raise him to think cheating was smarter than breaking up with someone because that’s a fucking shame if you did.” Your misdirected anger took him by surprise, he pushed the screen door open slowly as he took in every word you said, nodding his head. 
“No, sweetheart, I didn't teach him that. That’s pretty terrible you’d even ask if I raised him to think that way. What was your plan for comin’ here lil lady, hm? Were you gonna yell at him, make him feel bad for hurting you, make him apologize?” Your eyes looked down at the wooden porch as you thought about it for a few seconds, not having a clear answer for him. “I don’t know Mr.Miller, I just wanted to ask him why. Why did he do it?” you shrugged your shoulders before he pulled you into a hug. He rested his chin on your head and sighed deeply. “Sounds like you could use a drink, yeah?” 
Joel walked you inside, his hand pressed against your lower back as he walked you into the kitchen you were in about a thousand times before. He grabbed a bottle of tequila off the top shelf in the cabinet and poured you a shot. “How’d you find out he cheated on ya if you don’t mind me askin’?” He nudged the glass towards you and closed the bottle as he awaited your answer. As you downed the drink, your face scrunched slightly at the burning sensation, “someone sent me a fuckin picture of him kissing a girl, his hands were all over her. So like any rational person I sent it to him and asked what the fuck was he doing with his tongue down her throat.” You stared down into the empty glass and you could feel your blood starting to boil again. “You never found out who sent the photo? You didn’t bother to text them back asking who it was or anythin like that?” He pressed for answers and it started to fire you up. “No, but what if I call the number? Then I can hear their voice to see if it’s familiar.” Reaching into your back pocket to pull out your phone, you found the text from the random number and clicked CALL before Joel could respond. It started ringing in your ear when all of a sudden there was a faint ring coming from Joel's pocket. 
The look of pure shock plastered on your face as a smirk grew on his face, he tossed his still ringing phone on the island counter in between you two. “What..the fuck Mr.Miller? Why would you do that to me? I thought you respected me more than that bullshit text!” You shouted and shot up from the chair, making your way to him fast. He stood straight and braced himself for whatever you were thinking about doing, and your palms collided with his chest as you shoved him backwards. “I do darlin, you would’ve never believed me if I told you. You had to see for yourself that you need a man and not a boy.” His hands reached out for your waist and you pushed him away again. This wasn’t real, there’s no way he’s hinting at this right now. 
“He’s your son for fucks sake! What are you trying to do right now, sleep with me? I hate you. I fucking hate you” you snarled through gritted teeth and continue to shove him when his arms wrapped around you tightly. Your voice got quieter as he engulfed you, shushing you softly. “You hate me sweet girl? Is that it, hm? If you hate me so much why did I catch you in my doorway when I was jerkin off the other night? I saw those gorgeous eyes just for a split second in the crack of my door before I came and all I could think about was cummin’ all over those gorgeous tits of yours.” Your face got hot and your mouth went dry, embarrassed he caught you watching. He reached down below your ass and lifted up, sitting you on the counter. You parted your legs to let him stand between them, his hand instantly sliding up your thigh and under your skirt. “You’re fucking sick, you know that?” you muttered, your heart feeling like it’s going to beat out of your chest and your panties growing with wetness. His thumb grazed over your aching clit, your panties dulling the relief. “Tell me more about how much you hate me, pretty baby” Joel muttered in the crook of your neck as his hand pulled your panties to the side and his fingers danced along your folds slowly before he found your sensitive bud to circle around. Your head tilted back as a whimper escaped your lips, your nails digging into his shoulder as he applied pressure and speed against your clit. “I fucking hate you so goddamn much, you don’t deserve me like this” you muled out and bucked your hips a little. His soft lips met yours as he drank in your moans. God damn was he good with his fingers. You meant that though, maybe under different circumstances he’d deserve you half naked wrapped around his fingers but not like this, not with how he handled the situation. 
“How do I deserve you baby doll? Do I deserve you bent over this countertop with my cock buried inside that sweet little pussy? Or do I deserve you sitting on my face, riding my tongue until you cum on me?” You wanted it all. You wanted him no matter how angry you were at him. You’d fantasized about him since you caught him jacking off to your photo that night and maybe some small part of you was glad he noticed you in the doorway. “Shut the hell up and keep going, Joel. Fuck that’s so damn good” your hips rocked faster against him as he wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing firmly. “Yeah I bet you hate how good I make you feel don’t you, bunny? You hate the way I’ve got that sweet pussy dripping wet and all I’ve done is show you the attention you deserve. S’okay, you can hate me for that.” His lips met yours again, deep slow kisses exchanged while his fingers moved faster, becoming more and more covered with your sweet slick. “I’ll tell you one thing princess, your wet little pussy doesn’t hate me. So wet and excited for me, just aching to cum from me rubbing your clit. Bet you touch yourself thinking of me and you hate that, don’t ya? C’mon angel, use your voice you had no problem using earlier.” he encouraged while he squeezed your throat tighter. He sent your head in the clouds so you nodded in agreement, your body shaking as your orgasm was due fairly soon. 
Your moans filled the kitchen as you squeezed your eyes shut, the pressure on your clit becoming too much. “Joel I’m gonna cum p-please don’t stop” you begged between moans and you were practically grinding against his hand by now. He loved seeing how worked up you got, how much you were using him to get off. “Yeah baby, jus’ like that. Show me how much you hate me by cummin’ all over my fingers so you can watch me lick it up.” Joel pressed sloppy kisses on your slightly swollen lips as he moved faster on your clit and your grip on his shoulder tightened as you came undone all over his hand. You tried to clamp your legs shut but he refused you of that pleasure. “I fuckin- hate you so much” you breathlessly said as you rode your high out until your clit no longer thumped with excitement. Your eyes finally opened as he took his fingers up to his face, his eyes on yours the whole time as he shoved his fingers in his mouth teasingly. “I don’t think you hate me that much, princess.”
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biblio-smia · 4 months
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Hiiii! Love your work! This is gonna be a lengthy I apologize in advance lol. Do you think you can pls do a tasm! x fashion designer reader? (I’m a fashion major lmaooo) Like where the reader has a big debit show coming up and Peter misses bc he’s out on his spiderly duties. The reader doesn’t know he’s Spider-Man. Very angsty then very fluffy. Love confessions. Thank you!!!!!!
thank you + thank you for the request!! i loveee this idea <3 also definitely watched barbie a fashion fairytale while writing this LMAO
masterlist | requests are open!
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Emotions swirled in your chest - beginning with anxiety and just a touch of nausea.
Then came the elation - it was like the feeling when people praised you for your designs only intensified by about a thousand.
You'd spent hours on the pieces now being carried on the runway, survived on less hours of sleep than you'd thought possible, and worked through headaches you were positive where going to split your skull open. You'd pricked your fingers, created permanent callouses on your fingers, and probably caused irreversible damage to your back to make your patterns and ideas come to life. It was one thing to draw them out on paper and another to create them, altering them and scratching out ideas that had looked good on paper but had not ended up liked you'd imagines - and something completely different to see them on models, to watch the audience awe and clap for what you'd created.
Your heart pounded with each excited congratulations! and hug after the show had ended, still reeling a little from the experience. It'd been over so quickly for all the time you'd poured into the preparation and how long the show would take to clean up, but you were sure your work had made an impression that would outlive the night.
But as the crowd died down and people filed out, you stood, waiting, for the congratulations you'd been anticipating all night - the one that'd probably mattered the most to you.
But as the crowd thinned into only a few heads of people that had begun occupying themselves with cleaning up, so dispersed there was no way Peter could've possibly missed you, that's when the realization had set in.
Peter hadn't come.
Now, there was a new feeling a chest. Your heart hadn't stopped pounding, but now there was a pain accompanying it in your chest and a lump in your throat you were struggling to swallow down.
You turned when you heard your name called, not sure what you were expecting - it was only one of your colleagues, asking if you'd like to grab drinks to celebrate.
You teeter, almost let the idea persuade you, but ultimately decide against it with a small maybe next time! - because you're not really sure if you'd be able to hold the tears in if you got intoxicated.
Plus, a little piece of your heart holds out hope that maybe your boy would still show up - maybe he got pushed out by the crowd, or couldn't find you and decided to wait for you outside.
But as you stepped out into the dark night and looked around at the empty street, any last hope died.
The journey home created an ideal environment for your disappointment to brew into a strong, dark anger, scowl on your face sure to scare any strangers on the sidewalk off and away from you. You were nearing furious by the time you reached your door, shoving your keys into the lock and hurting your hands with the intensity you pulled them out with, cold metal painfully digging into your hot fingers.
Your anger didn't mellow as you turned your phone off, refusing to let Peter have any way to contact you - at least for tonight. You needed a few hours away from him. Maybe longer. You'd decide that later.
A shower tamed your flames, water burning you out and leaving behind something that craved only the soft comfort of your bed.
You'd only made it a few steps into your room when your ears perked at the sound of tapping at your window. Your eyes followed, trying to identify the source of the noise, and you jumped when you saw Peter on your fire escape.
If it hadn't been so cold out, you would've left him outside.
At least, that's what you told yourself afterwards.
But that searing rage had returned, warming your entire body and making you resistant to the cold air that blew in along with Peter the second you opened the window.
"Did you climb up here?" You spat out, immediately backing up and crossing your arms, scowl making its way on your face again.
Peter didn't need to look at you to feel your anger.
He'd been so close to making it this time - but, like always, something had come up. That'd been his excuse so many times, to so many people, it was starting to become pathetic even to Peter. He'd paced for close to an hour, biting the inside of his cheek raw while wondering how he was going to make it up to you. Peter knew how much this night had meant to you. He'd promised to be there, to support you and all the work you'd put in; the long hours you spent beside Peter, refusing to accept his help. The days where Peter had to force you away from your desk to have a break, all the snacks he'd made to fuel you and your beautiful brain.
And now, as Peter was so famous for doing, he blew it.
"W...what? Oh, yeah, I just-" Well, Peter had swung here, but he'd get around to explaining that. For now, he was more focused on trying to get his words out without stuttering pathetically. "I just- I needed to tell you something."
You stood, silent, arms crossed and eyes dark. Peter didn't need a translation to know you were telling him to spit it out.
Peter swallows thickly. He takes a deep breath. He forces himself to look straight into your eyes.
"I'm Spiderman." Peter goes the extra mile and tugs on the neckline of his shirt, revealing a sliver of the suit in case you don't believe him.
It's silent, which Peter begins to believe is the worst outcome with each second it drags on. You falter for just a few moments before your eyebrows furrow, somehow even angrier this time, because you, in all your hot anger, cannot bring yourself to fully process the information Peter has just thrown at you - or, frankly, care.
"So? You think that's just gonna fix everything?" You step closer to Peter, words like venom.
"I-"
"You what? You think I'm just gonna forgive you because you're Spiderman? Peter, you know how much this meant to me. And now you show up, hours after you're supposed to, telling me you're Spiderman?"
"Well, I brought these," Peter offers weakly, pulling a bouquet of flowers out of his bag. Crushed. Peter watches as a petal falls lamely to the ground.
"Impressive," you say so sarcastically it hurts, rolling your eyes with a sigh. "God, Peter, you are such a dick!"
Peter can sense you're about to send him out of that window flying, but he just can't leave before saying everything he needed to say.
"W-wait! Please, just hang on, I... I am so sorry," Peter starts, hands on your shoulders desperately. "I really am. Truly. I wanted to be there tonight, I tried so hard to be there, something got in the way... but that doesn't matter. I should've been there, or at least texted, or something, you're right, I'm sorry. And this," Peter motions to his chest. "is not an excuse, at all. I just wanted to tell the truth. I owe you at least that."
"Yeah, you owe a lot more than that," you scoff, shoving Peter's shoulder. It's not hard but Peter winces painfully in a way that fills you immediately with guilt. You roll up Peter's sleeve but see only a pattern of red and black. You look at him expectantly and he does his best to slide his arm out of his suit from under his shirt - all to reveal a nasty bruise, right where you'd hit him.
"Well, now I feel bad," you murmur, dragging Peter to your kitchen for some ice, trying not to think about how dangerous the things he got involved with as Spiderman probably were - how he'd clearly been doing something more important while missing the show.
"Don't," Peter insists, letting you sit him down and press ice against the bruise, focusing on not wincing. "I deserve it."
"You don't, Pete," you sigh, careful not to let your eyes wander to Peter's - it's hard, though, feeling him stare at you so woefully from your peripheral.
But you slip eventually, Peter catching your eyes before you can look away.
"I'm sorry," he says again, reaching for your hand slowly, tenderly, wondering if you'll let him.
You do.
"I know you are, Peter."
It's quiet for a few moments before you sigh, examining Peter's arm for any other bruises.
"It's just the one," Peter confirms, before asking shyly, "Kiss it better?"
You roll your eyes but you push Peter's sleeve up further, careful not to touch the bruise as you place your lips on the top of Peter's shoulder, right next to a small freckle.
"I meant here," Peter taps his lips with a smile.
"Don't push it." You move away from Peter and he stands, following you around as you stop at a cupboard and dig around until you find an empty vase. Peter watches silently as you fill it with water and wordlessly back into your room, where you pick up the flowers from where Peter had left them on your nightstand and place them carefully inside the vase.
"They were beautiful when I bought them," Peter mutters.
"They're still nice," you insist. "So," you begin, taking a seat on your bed. "Do I really want to hear the details about all the dangers Spiderman has faced?"
"Depends on how much you still hate me," Peter replies, opening up a drawer full of your sleep shirts, sure he'll find one (or a few) of his among them. He does, and he's quick to start pulling his clothes off. Unfortunately, Peter hasn't come up with a better way of getting his suit off just yet.
"Is watching people undress part of the job?" Peter asks with a grin, slipping his head through your (his) shirt.
"No, we usually watch them get dressed," you hum.
"So it's just me then?" Peter drops next to you on your bed, pulling your laptop from its place on your nightstand.
"Okay, you were the one who started taking your clothes off in front of me."
"You looked."
You rolled your eyes but you smiled as Peter pulled you into his side, balancing your laptop between the two of you. He's quick to pull up clips of the show and you're surprised to see it already online; you're also surprised to see the few hundreds of views already, considering it had only been a few hours since the show.
"Tell me everything," Peter insists, propping himself up to focus his attention back on you.
So you do.
Peter has always been a good listener when it came to you, captivated by the way you speak. He's told you before that he could listen to you talk about nothing for hours, but he makes an extra effort to really pay attention tonight. He asks questions about the show and about intricacies that he doesn't quite understand.
You can tell when you're beginning to lose him, at some point where you're talking about the different stitches you had to use to create a certain design on one of your pieces.
Some of it Peter has heard already, but he listens regardless. He's set the laptop aside now, fingers drawing figures on your arm as he hums and nods.
You've gotten to the end, where you casually mention the invitation for drinks you got. Peter frowns, head propped on his hand so you can see the severity of his pout.
"What would you have done then?" You ask curiously.
"Waited," Peter said like it was obvious.
"What if I stayed out all night?"
"Well then I would've had to break in," Peter grins.
"You're a nuisance."
"The person you've turned me into," Peter rolls onto you, pressing his head into your neck.
"I have a feeling you've always been like this."
"Maybe," Peter hums against your skin, pressing his lips into your skin.
"I haven't forgiven you yet. You're still a dick."
"I am," Peter agrees, pulling his head away to look at you, arms caging you in at your sides. "The worst. Call me Penis Parker."
You can't help but laugh at that one, which of course makes Peter grin.
"You still owe me," you say sternly, hands meeting at the back of Peter's neck, capturing him in a loose hold. "For, like, the rest of your life."
"I owe you," Peter nods quickly, pressing a kiss to the inside of your arm. "For the rest of my life. Just as long as you're in it."
Peter's voice goes quiet towards the end, implicating something you hadn't intended for originally. Peter notices how your eyes widen slightly and he bites his lip.
"Uh, well, I don't think this is really the best time to tell you, but... uh," Peter hesitates, moving off of you, choosing to sit up next to you instead. "I... I love you."
You're sitting him, mouth slightly agape. All you'd expected tonight was a congratulations from Peter, not a love confession.
The silence scares him until Peter manages to hear your elevated heart rate (only barely over his own). Your face is hot and Peter's about to insist that you don't have to respond right now when you're pulling him in, slowly. Your hand is on his cheek and Peter's arms have shyly wrapped around you. Your noses bump and Peter tilts his head, not quite shutting his eyes just yet. His breath comes out a little strained and you know he's not gonna go for it until you do.
"I love you, Peter," you whisper. "But don't ever do that again."
Peter nods, moving to place a hand on your chin. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"Good."
And you lean in, finally, capturing Peter's lips in a kiss he was terrified he'd never experience again. He savored it now, hungry, refusing to let you go. He relished the funny feeling that your words created in his chest, pulling you close and making you feel every little ounce of love he had for you.
Peter wouldn't risk losing you again as long as he could help it.
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iamsherlocked1479 · 1 year
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Admit it
Word count: 1.9k words
Description: Sherlock believes that lingerie is pointless so y/n decides to prove him wrong, no matter the costs.
Warnings: 18+, very angsty, BJ, P in V sex, choking, slut shame
A/N: this is my apology for not posting as much hope you like it! But chapter 11 is about halfway done atm.
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“I don’t get it!” Sherlock shouted at the television screen, jolting you awake with his movement, you had fallen asleep on him again, which of course he didn’t have a problem with.
“W-what now?” You ask dazed from your sleep
“These adverts look at those women.” He pointed to the ad you had seen thousands of times for a designer company showing off their new lingerie.
“Its just an ad?” You say confused, this is your punishment for letting him get to intrigued in the reality tv shows you watch, his attempt of proving he could be a normal boyfriend.
“Yes but I don’t get why lingerie is so amazing.” He turned to you
“Because its a way to feel pretty, seductive almost.” You laugh
“But you don’t need lingerie to look beautiful.” He added
“You know you should use that line more often.” You laugh
“I really don’t understand society.” He sighed and turned his head back to the screen.
“So you wouldn’t care if i wore something like that?” You ask
“I prefer you in nothing, we both know that.” He squeezed your thigh
“No but its meant to make their partners want them more. A treat i would say.” You thought how you ended up explaining the use of lingerie to your boyfriend who was very much experienced by now in the arts of physical relationships with you.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does.” You laugh “its like when you wear that purple shirt that’s slightly too tight for you” you smirk as his brow raises
“That actually explains a lot.”
“Never mind the show is back on.” You point to the screen
“You’re just going to fall asleep again.” He smiled
“Would that be a problem?” You ask
“Never.” He added, and as usual he was right. You woke up the next morning in you shared bed trying to work out how you’d gotten there but then remembered your conversation from last night, maybe he would like it if you wore lingerie. You hadn’t exactly tried that before, you knew he was probably out on a case so you got dressed with your mission clear. Finding the perfect lingerie to seduce the great Sherlock Holmes, who also happened to be the man who never had physical relationships with anyone, in a physical relationship with you.
You started out with a few common clothing shops with nothing really taking your fancy so you decided it would be better to look in the expensive shops, like the one from the advert. You browse the isles being amazed by the different styles and colours in all shapes and sizes before finally seeing the perfect set.
On a mannequin in front of you was a purple laced bra and panties set. It was almost the same colour as his shirt so you knew it would be perfect, the bra was lace and obviously see through and the panties would fit your figure just right.
It was early evening by the time you got home, and Sherlock’s violin could be heard throughout the apartment. He smiled when he saw you, but didn’t stop playing. It was obvious whatever case he was on was really toying with his mind mind.
“I’m just gonna take a shower.” You yelled not expecting a reply, it was time to put your plan into action. You showered and washed your hair, whilst also performing for the various bottles of shampoo that probably wished they didn’t need to hear the same verse from careless whisper three times over. You towel dry your hair enough so it wouldn’t be dripping wet, without getting too frizzy the next day and slipped on the lingerie. And god it was perfect, there was no way in hell even Sherlock holmes could deny you didn’t look good, you weren't one for loving yourself too much but this made it difficult.
You left the bathroom wearing only the lingerie and Sherlock was still playing, but upon hearing you enter the room he began playing a careless whisper mocking your singing.
“Was I really being that loud?” You laugh
“I’ve heard worse.” He still hadn’t turned around, dam his stupid mind palace.
“So what case are you stuck on?” You ask moving to the kitchen and ignoring the severed human limbs to make tea.
“A soldier was murdered, found dead in the shower, no way in, no way out and no signs of a struggle. Just dead, it appears as if a ghost killed him.” He still hadn’t turned around, god he was arrogant sometimes.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” You ask
“Yes and is there any biscu-.” He stopped and finally laid his eyes on you. Your back was to him, your ass clearly showing.
“Everything okay back there?” You smirk
“W-what are you wearing?” He asked, you could have swore you heard a gulp.
“Oh this little thing? I picked it up today. What do you think?” You tapped the tea spoon on the cup and turned around, he watched your every move as you entered the living room. You place the tea on the table and walk over to him, now he was intrigued. It was time to play your game. “Sit please” you push him back into his chair and he falls back with a huff his eyes scanning every part of your body.
“I- I think its n-nice.” He watched as you teased him moving your hips as you turned around allowing him to look at everything.
“But you see I’m not sure about it, could you have a closer look?” You step towards him, and place yourself in his lap straddling his legs, with your chest in his face, his hands slid up your legs towards your hips, but you pushed them away. “Ah ah, remember I thought you didn’t see the point in clothes like this. In my opinion i’d say they’re pretty effective.” You could feel him twitching beneath you,
“Maybe they are helping a tad bit.” He shuffled in his seat trying his best to do as you said but he wasn’t going to admit you were right.
“Pitty, I thought they were working.” You began circulating your hips, grinding yourself against his growing length, letting out small moans of pleasure. You watched as he gripped the arms of his chair tightly at the sensation of you rubbing against him. You moved your hands to his chest and unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers moved closer to you tracing along your leg, but you stopped your movements and tutted. “Admit I was right and maybe I’ll let you touch.”
He grunted frustratedly he wasn’t one for admitting he was wrong, but here you sat in his lap grinding against him and he couldn’t even kiss you. “Shit” he sighed “fine you were right” you smiled at your win and pushed your lips against his and began moving faster.
“I can’t help myself around you, fuck baby.” He trailed his lips along your neck going in between the crevice of your breast with his tongue, he pulled down the straps of your bra and pulled your tits free. He took one into his mouth, nibbling the nipple slightly while gripping the other with his hand.
You gripped his hair pushing him further into your chest letting out more moans edging him on. You pushed your soaked cunt harder on him, making his cock rub against your clit beginning to causing the knot in your stomach to grow tighter, growing closer to your release. He purred into your chest as your wetness soaked through his trousers, which grew ever tighter with your work. You couldn’t hold it back any longer your hips jolted as you came,
“Oh fuck Sherlock yes, fuck you’re so hard its s-so good.”
“Mmm fuck i can’t wait any longer.” He stood up and carried you through the hall towards your bedroom, his lips still locked to yours as he kicked the door open and carried you to the bed. He dropped you there watching as you knelt below him, wiping the hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.
“Want your cock, baby, I need it.” You whimpered as you unbuckled his belt. You pulled down his boxers and watched as he moaned as you licked a stripe down his length before gently sucking on his balls as your hand pumped him slowly. His head knocked back with a sigh of relief as you reached his tip again, and slowly began bobbing your head down over it, working your tongue around him before sinking down a little farther. You tried your best to swallow around him he helped by pushing himself in gently letting out deep moans the further you got. His hip’s jolted again as you pulled back and worked on the tip again, he was becoming too sensitive and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. He pushed your mouth away and brought you to his gently gripping your throat.
“Don't think I forgot you wouldn’t let me touch you, I won’t let that go unnoticed. I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for a week.” He pushed you onto the bed and positioned his frame over you, he practically ripped off the panties and entered with a hard thrust causing you to yelp and grip to the bed sheets. He pushed hard into you the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room accompanied by your moans, you clawed at his back as he fucked you
“Look at you so cock drunk, you think you can parade yourself around like a little slut in my apartment and get away with it. Do you?” He asked
“N-no.” You whimpered, leaning your head back as your back arched
“No what?” He grabbed your chin making your eyes level with his dark blues
“N-no sir.”
“Good.” He flipped you over and knelt over you, slowing his pace, taking more time to push harder into you. “Now say you’re sorry.” He slapped your ass, hard smiling as a pink gleam appeared
“I’m sorry.” You whimpered
“Good girl, now we can enjoy this.” He sped up his pace and placed one hand under you, his thumb rubbing your already swollen clit. The pulse of you clit sent waves through you as you squirmed, he fucked you hard through your orgasm
“Oh fuck, sherlock just there, thats right!” Your voice was muffled as you buried yourself in the sheets pulling them from the corners.
Sherlock groaned, he loved the sight of you being this way around him, so cock drunk you couldn’t even hold yourself up. He too was reaching his end the way your pussy clenched around his cock was enough to set him off, spewing thick white ropes deep inside of you and collapsing onto you.
He took a moment to cat his breath, his cock still inside you before pulling himself off the bed,
“Looks like you need another shower.” He held out his hand as you turned and sprawled onto the bed
“I can’t, too tired.” You say breathlessly
“I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.” He smiled while wiping the hair stuck to your forehead.
“Hmm” you groaned as your eyes fell closed. Sherlock fixed the sheets around you before wrapping your body in a cover and allowing you to sleep. He showered before going back to his violin, this time thinking only of you. Though he would never tell you, maybe just this once you were right.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
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Betrayal part 2:
Synopsis: Sam and Dean are at odds after what happened, and Sam tried to make up for his mistakes
Author’s note: not my best work, but I wanted to wrap up the fic a little more, so enjoy!
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Sam had never wanted to share a bed so badly in his life. In all the years that he and Dean had been responsible for you, it was always a good day when he got a motel bed to himself. He and Dean would trade on and off with who had to share a bed with you, and who got a bed to himself.
But now, it had been two weeks since the demon blood incident. Fourteen nights, and each and every one of them you slept in Dean’s bed, even after Sam had completely detoxed from demon blood.
Sam was beginning to wonder if it was you choosing this, too scared to be that close to Sam without Dean in between you, or if it was Dean, too angry at Sam to trust him near you.
Either way, each night was just a reminder of how completely and utterly he had screwed up. He couldn’t decide what was worse; his own guilt eating away at him, the way you seemed to gravitate towards Dean whenever Sam got too close, like you were looking for protection, or the way that Dean refused to let you anywhere alone with Sam. And Dean was barely speaking to him, which was also pretty bad. Dean wasn’t one to hold grudges, at least not against family. But this was different. If Sam had failed you somehow, that would’ve been one thing. But this was so much worse. Failing you as a big brother would’ve been letting you get hurt somehow. But what he did…
He didn’t let you get hurt. He hurt you.
That wasn’t something he was ever going to forgive himself for. But a little part of him was still holding out hope that Dean could forgive him. He wasn’t worried about you forgiving him, he was pretty sure you already had, which almost made him feel worse. The idea that you could forgive him so quickly, before you’d even stopped having nightmares about what he’d done to you, just made him feel even more like a monster for hurting you.
Dean, however, wasn’t about to let this slide. There was nothing Sam could do except try his best to make up for what he’d done, although he had no idea how.
“Hey, we gotta case,” Sam snapped out of his thoughts just in time to catch John’s journal that Dean had thrown at him.
“What is it?”
Dean shrugged into a jacket, “Not sure. Three mysterious deaths, only about an hour away. I’m gonna go talk to the families, you do some research.”
Sam noticed you putting your coat on and frowned.
“And she’s going with you?”
Dean turned, “Yeah, and?”
Sam scoffed.
“Well she’s a little young to pass for an agent.”
“So she’ll wait in the car.”
Sam glanced at you. You didn’t seem ready to jump into the conversation, so he kept going.
“Or she could stay here. Work on homework, help me with research. It’d be easier for everyone.”
Dean placed a hand on your back, leading you out the door.
“Nah, she’s fine. Have fun.”
The door slammed shut before Sam could protest.
Sam was ready and waiting with everyone’s favorite fast food order when you and Dean returned to the motel.
Dean gave him a gruff nod, but Sam grinned when you smiled at him. Any little thing that showed him you were coming around was basically Christmas morning. Well, not his definition of Christmas morning, but a normal person’s.
Sam and Dean compared notes on the case while you sat on one of the beds watching tv. By the time the boys were done, Sam looked over to see you fast asleep.
Dean stood, heading for the bed, but Sam grabbed his arm.
“You should get your own bed,” he insisted. “You need a good night’s rest, you did all the leg work today.”
Dean shrugged his hand off.
“I’m fine.”
Sam scoffed, “It’s more than that, Dean. You can trust me with her.”
Dean gritted his teeth.
“I would’ve thought so too, two weeks ago.”
“Dean, I’ve apologized for that a thousand different times, an-and I’m trying to make up for it! Let me do that.”
Dean stepped away from Sam and sat next to your sleeping form on the bed.
“No, Sam. You do what you think you should, try to make amends if it’ll make you feel better. But that won’t include asking me to trust you. Not after this, not until I say so. You don’t get to make that call.”
Sam dragged his hand over his face, dropping his head so he wouldn’t have to look Dean in the eye.
“Alright, yeah. Your call.”
Sam awoke to the jarring feeling of someone shaking his shoulder. He bolted up to a sitting position, eyes scanning for some kind of danger. Instead, he vaguely made out your figure in the darkness, standing beside his bed. He remained alert, unsure of why you would’ve come to him.
If you were in danger, surely you would’ve just woken Dean, who wasn’t even six inches away from you. The soft sound of your crying made him feel both relieved and hurt. If there was a danger, you’d be yelling, not crying, but he’d really prefer neither to be happening.
“Baby, what is it?” Sam kept his voice quiet, not wanting to wake Dean.
“The demons…the demons got you,” you were trying to whisper, but the lump in your throat made it hard to get the words out quietly. “And-and you wouldn’t wake up, and I-I thought…” you broke off, your whole body shaking as you tried to breathe through your sobbing.
“Hey, hey,” Sam pulled you into his arms, letting you climb up on the bed with him. “It was a dream, you were dreaming, honey. I’m ok, I’m just fine.”
“You wouldn’t wake up,” Sam felt you fisting his shirt in your hands, pulling him as close as possible.
“It’s ok, I’m awake. I’m sorry, N/N, I must’ve been sleeping pretty deeply.” Deep sleep was a pretty rare occurrence for him, and he was annoyed that now was the time for it to happen. How long had you been trying to wake him up, afraid that he was dead?
“It felt so real,” your tears had stopped, but you still clung to Sam with all your strength. He held you as though you were made of glass, too afraid to hold you tightly. Perhaps he was too used to being treated as dangerous.
“I know it did, I know,” Sam rested his chin on top of your head. “But it wasn’t. I’m ok. You should go back to sleep.”
You shifted in his arms, turning your head up to look at him.
“Can I stay here?”
If you weren’t so distressed, he would’ve grinned.
“Of course you can.”
He tried to lay back on the bed, and his stomach twisted when he noticed that you wouldn’t let go of him, not even for a second. He didn’t pull you away, instead he held you tighter and struggled a bit to lay down with you still in his arms. He didn’t want to scare you anymore than you already were, so if that meant letting you Velcro yourself to him, that was alright by him.
Once he was settled back on his pillows, he felt you shift so that your head was resting in the middle of his chest. He felt your whole body instantly relax, and he knew you must be listening to his heartbeat. He kept his arms around you, almost as comforted by your presence as you were by his.
To think that you were ok with being this vulnerable around him, even if it was because of your nightmare, made him think that maybe, just maybe, everything would be ok again.
Dean awoke with the sense that something was off, and it took him a moment to realize what. He was alone in the bed.
He forced himself to remain calm as he scanned the hotel room. Surely you were around here somewhere.
His brief look around gained him nothing, so he quickly stepped out of bed and did a thorough sweep of the room. Nothing; even the bathroom was empty. He was about to head out to see if you’d gone outside to stretch your legs, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
A flash of Y/H/C nestled under Sam’s chin, the lump under the blanket too big to be just him. When Dean stepped closer, he saw your face, leaning against Sam’s chest, the two of you breathing softly, almost in sync.
At first he was taken aback, then confused, then torn. He still didn’t trust Sam, he couldn’t, not after what he’d done to you. Dean was determined to keep you at arm’s length from Sam, and he was even more determined to keep you close to himself. He hadn’t been watching you closely enough, and that was why Sam was able to hurt you in the first place. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
But at the same time, there was only so much he could do if you were this determined to forgive Sam. If you were this ready to just hop into Sam’s bed and fall asleep next to him, without Dean’s protection between you and Sam, how was Dean supposed to protect you?
He didn’t have long to ponder his dilemma, however, because just then Sam started to stir, and you let out a soft whine when he sat up, dislodging you from your comfortable place using him as a pillow.
“Sorry,” Sam mumbled as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, turning his head to look at Dean. “Hey. We got any new leads?”
Dean just shook his head, his eyes still trained on you as you sat up groggily, rubbing your face.
Sam followed Dean’s line of sight before turning back to his brother, shrugging and mouthing, ‘nightmare’.
Dean resisted the urge to grit his teeth. A nightmare? He should’ve expected that would be the reason, but lately your nightmares had been about Sam hurting you. So why had you gone to him?
“Can we get breakfast? I’m starving,” you mumbled, slipping off the bed and walking up to Dean. Dean couldn’t help the way his body relaxed when you were close to him, close enough so he could protect you if he had to. He was really starting to hate this part of him; somewhere, deep inside, he knew that Sammy wouldn’t hurt you, but Dean’s protective nature wouldn’t let him let go of the image in his head, the image of your blood running down Sam’s chin, seeing you cry out to your big brother to help you, only for him to hurt you.
He wanted to trust Sam again, he really did. But that image was seared into his brain, and as long as it remained there, so did Dean’s instinct to jump between you and Sam any chance he got.
“Dean?” Dean blinked as your hand waved in front of his face. “You ok?”
Dean cleared his throat, a light smile coming to his face.
“Yeah, I’m good. Look, we got some work to do here, so why don’t you grab us some stuff from the vending machine for breakfast, alright?”
Dean handed you a few dollars, and you shrugged and left to find some food.
“When did she…” Dean barely waited for the motel room door to close before he turned to Sam.
“I don’t know, middle of the night sometime. Look, I know you don’t want me near her, but she was really freaked. I wasn’t about to push her away.”
Dean shook his head, “No, and I wouldn’t want you to.”
“Ok,” Sam sighed. “So what do you want?”
“I don’t know. I know I want her to be safe.”
“She is,” Sam’s voice was resolute. “She’s safe with me, I promise. Look, I know how bad I screwed up. I know I hurt her. I would do anything, anything, to undo that, but I can’t. And I know you’re never going to forget this, and that’s fine, because neither am I. I can live with that. But what I can’t live with, is you keeping her away from me. I need to show her, and you, that I’m sorry. And that this is never gonna happen again. So, do what you have to do, hate me, keep me in the doghouse forever, but just…just don’t keep her away from me.”
“I wasn’t trying to take her away from you,” Dean stood, checking out the window to make sure you weren’t coming back yet. “I just needed…” Dean dropped his gaze from Sam’s penetrating stare. “I need to keep her close, Sam. You think you’re the only one who screwed up here? You were in detox, and I didn’t watch her close enough.”
“Dean, it’s not your-“
“Yes, yes it is my fault,” Dean interrupted Sam before he could finish the thought. “You were unhinged, and unpredictable, and I didn’t keep her close enough. And she got hurt. I can’t let that happen again, she won’t get hurt on my watch, never again.”
Sam nodded, “Ok. I mean, I don’t agree with you but I get what you mean. So what, you just can’t let her be alone with me, ever? Because you think that-“
“No!” Dean cleared his throat, trying to calm himself before he spoke again. “No. I’m just saying…I’m not trying to shun you from her life. Just know that…and if I start to get a bit overprotective, or if I don’t let you near her sometimes…I just wanted you to know that it’s not all you. It’s not just you that I don’t trust, it’s me.”
Sam gave Dean a melancholy smile.
“Ok then. I get it.”
Dean nodded.
“Ok. So…I’ll try to give you a little more room with her, but you gotta let me be protective sometimes.”
Sam’s smile turned real.
“Deal. Hey, I understand protecting her. I’m her big brother too.”
Dean returned the smile, “I suppose you are.”
The door to the motel room opened, and you entered with an armload of snacks.
“Sorry it took so long, the close one was busted to I had to walk all the way around.”
Dean ruffled your hair and snatched up a bag of pretzels.
“Thanks, squirt.”
You looked between the two brothers, and they knew that you were sensing the difference in atmosphere already.
“You guys good?”
Sam smiled at you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, reaching over you to grab his own snack. He was happy to see that Dean didn’t tense in the slightest.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re just fine.”
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Aizawa who runs a Twitter account that's entirely his cats and a smidge of dry humor but accidentally likes a lewd by porn star reader on the wrong account SJDBSJHF he addresses it maturely but you're in his replies asking if he's looking for a new kitten and adding a cute little cat ear and collar photo. And the way it's cropped makes it obvious there's a lot more to the photo than what you're sharing on twitter. Next thing you know the internet's favorite cat account is in your dms 🤭 -rosie
*sigh* Aizawa with a cat twitter account and reader with an onlyfans Twitter account :(
CW: smut, fwb, onlyfans, pining, fluff
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God, just imagine it. Aizawa is a faceless twitter user who posts pictures of his own cats, cats he sees in the street, retweets pics and vids that he finds cute. His dry humor has made him really popular, bringing in thousands of followers without trying. He doesn't really care about having followers, he just likes seeing all the cats ppl post in the replies.
It isn't until he likes one of your pics that he dislikes having followers. Most don't care, but the loud minority of his followers criticize him for liking something so lewd on such an innocent twitter page, claiming he should do that stuff on his personal twitter (even tho... this was his personal twitter account; it just happened to get popular). So he makes an apology that he doesn't really believe, claiming that he will avoid liking those tweets in the future (he just ends up making another account and keeping that one private).
He turns his notifications off and doesn't think anything of it, going to sleep without a care. It isn't until the next day when he goes to twitter and sees a large influx of notifications that he starts to care. He sifts through the mentions and likes until he sees your reply, eyes going wide.
Aw, pooh 😔 i was gonna see if you wanted another kitty to take care of, but ig I'm too late :/
Attached to the reply was a cropped photo of you in cat ears and soft makeup, the photo stopping at your bare shoulders and collarbones, leaving so much to the imagination.
Just a few hours after you posted the flirtatious reply, you get a dm from the cat twitter account himself. He links your pic and says that applications are always open 😖💦💕
You two do the little flirty stuff back and forth but then you start talking sincerely and?? Yall get along super well?? It's such a nice coincidence that you two have compatible personalities, able to talk for days without a lull in the conversation. He finds himself enjoying the real you more than your sexy online persona, and he has no problem asking questions so he can learn more about the real you.
You two notice that you're awake at similar times, and soon you find out that you live in the same time zone!! It's pretty cool and you don't start imagining meeting him one day, not at all 🧍‍♀️ you definitely don't start imagining meeting him irl and seeing how he really looks, how hot he is, and you don't start thinking about being his little kitten and getting railed by the mysterious twitter user. No, not at all 🧍‍♀️
One day you mention this cute little cat café that just opened and how yummy the cat themed treats are and this one orange tabby that's chubby and sweet and purrs constantly. Thing is... Aizawa knows exactly what cat café you're talking about. He went there himself when it opened, more interested in the cats than the sugary goods they sell.
You two sit with this information for a while before he asks if you'd like to meet there one day and hang out. You usually wouldn't meet someone online out in the real world, but you'd talked enough about yourselves that you didn't feel like strangers anymore, so it's not like you were scared. You tried not to act so excited when you agreed, setting up a date and time, too wound up to sleep.
When you finally meet him, you're shocked at how handsome he actually is. Tall and gruff, long hair and scruffy beard, dressed in black. He's quiet and a bit standoffish, but he doesn't beat around the bush or make you feel stupid. He treats you like a person, not just a hole that he can stick his dick into, and it makes him all the more attractive.
The meetup goes really well, you really enjoy spending time with him! He's super easy to talk to and you think he's a really cool guy. It's only natural that you'd develop a wittle crush on him uwu. Yall start hanging out more often and going out places, getting closer and closer. Naturally your next move would be to hang out at one of your apartments, preferably his so you can meet the famous kitties you see on twitter so often. And maybe you sit beside each other and your legs touch and you give each other a look before you kiss and maybe he ends up railing you on his living room couch but honestly who's keeping track of all that alfnlajdka
Starting a little fwb relationship with Aizawa, having him help you with your OF videos. Posting teasers on your twitter of a big hand wrapped tenderly around your neck, smiling with your tongue stuck out. Everyone wonders if their OF fav has a boyfriend now, but you never confirm anything. They assume you're just hooking up with ppl, but the guys in your vids all have the same body type, the same hands, the same thick cock that makes you scream and sob. They make theories on who the guy is: he has to do something athletic for a living bc his body is so fit and chiseled, muscles defined as he fucks you into oblivion. God, and his stamina. Your shortest video with him is an hour long. ONE HOUR 😳😩🤧
You lose a few fans, ppl who get mad at the thought of you being in a relationship, but your popularity skyrockets with the new content as well. Before you just masturbated, which people liked, but you're so much louder with a partner, cumming more, giving your fans a better idea of what it'd be like to fuck you themselves.
Your previous videos did well, but your new numbers have gone through the roof. "My Best Friend Breaks My Back 🤤💦💕", "Babysitter Gets Fucked By Divorced Dad 🙈🙊💋💞", and "Using My Body to Pay for Rent?! 😵👁👅👁💓" are your highest rated vids, all of them including Aizawa, never showing anything above his shoulders. You offer to give him a cut of your earnings, but he always refuses. You feel a little bad bc you've gotten a lot more money thanks to him, but you just treat him to coffee at cat cafés more often, and he's satisfied with that.
Ppl keep bugging you for details, asking if Aizawa is a friend, a business partner, some guy you have to pay to fuck you (those comments are always so mean ☹️), but you never answer them. Tbh, you don't know what you and Aizawa are. You really like him, but you're not sure if he feels the same. Sure, you're good friends and the sex is out of this world, but that doesn't mean he wants a relationship with you :/ you keep these thoughts to yourself, trying not to humor them late at night, wishing you were cuddled up with Aizawa and his kitties :(
Your next video comes out, and Aizawa watches it out of curiousity jk he loves seeing you get fucked from a different angle but the title makes him pause.
"Getting Fucked by the Man of My Dreams 🥰😻💕✨️"
You act innocent when he questions you about the title, claiming that it's just to get the fans interested. He seems fine with that answer, but his response leaves you breathless
"Shame. It'd be an honor to be the man of your dreams."
Needless to say, you confess your feelings real quick sksksk. He also confesses his growing feelings for you, claiming that he didn't want to ruin your current relationship in case you weren't interested.
Yall go steady, eventually move in together. You wake every morning to your scruffy twitter bf and his sweet cats. The end sksksk
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familyvideostevie · 10 months
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🐚 SEASHELL:
Could I request "I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me" from Taylor Swift's peace with Steve please? 💛
yes you can!!! here is a wee bit of angst but mostly hurt/comfort with steve and patching up that silly boy's wounds. it's been done a thousand times before but it's so fun! <3
---
You should already be in bed when the knock comes. As it is, you're a bit lonely and thinking about how you should have called Steve, but you've only been seeing each other for a month or so, so you figured that was a bit clingy.
The pounding on the door scares you upright. You sit still on the couch for a second, wondering if you're supposed to answer it or pretend you're not here because who would be at your door at this hour?
But then they talk. "It's Steve," he says, sounding hoarse, like he doesn't expect you to hear him, like he's talking to himself.
You hop your feet and get to the door as fast as you can, opening it without even checking that it really is Steve.
But sure enough it's him. The first thing you notice is the blood on his shirt. Your eyes travel up and it gets worse the further you go -- split lip, bruising eye, bloody nose.
"Oh my god," you gasp. "Steve, what happened?"
"I'm sorry," he says. "I know it's late. Were you asleep?" He looks you up and down, taking in your sweatpants and t-shirt. The corner of his mouth turns up when he sees that it's an old one of his he left in your car after you went swimming last week.
"What happened?" you say instead of answering him. "Get in here before you fall over."
He stumbles into your apartment and shuts the door behind him, leaning heavily on it. "Do you, uh, have a first aid kit?"
You grab his sleeve and tug him towards your bathroom. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"
"No, I don't think so." He sits heavily on your closed toilet and you rifle through the cabinet under the sink. "Listen," he says, resting his palm on your hip. You see that his knuckles are bloody, already scabbing over. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you. You don't need this shit --"
"I can decide that for myself, thanks," you retort. "And maybe you can tell me what this shit is."
He sighs but you let him take his time as you wash the blood from his face, butterfly bandage his nose. He doesn't even hiss, just gently grips the back of your thighs where you stand in the space between his. "I got in a fight," he mumbles. You motion for his hand and he places it in yours so you can clean his knuckles.
"Is this a common thing for you?"
You know Steve enough to like him a lot, enough to hope this goes somewhere. You know a little bit about his past, about the shit he's been through, but there's a lot you don't know about him. And even though he knocked on your door at 1am covered in blood you aren't really that fazed. You just want to clean him up and get him safe and happy.
He shrugs. "It's happened before," he says. "I try not to, uh, do it. But I have shitty luck, I guess. Sorry." He laughs mirthlessly, curling in on himself.
You tap his chin. "Steve," you say, softly. "Please stop apologizing." You brush some hair out of his face as gently as you can. "This is what you do in a relationship, isn't it?"
"Clean off blood and lose sleep?" he grumbles. You roll your eyes but your chest fills with tenderness. The feeling makes you lean forward and press your lips to his hairline. He makes a sound like you've punched him.
"Just let me help you, okay? You came here because you knew I would, right?"
He nods, trying to find words and failing.
"Then let me help." Steve tilts forward and presses his forehead to your stomach. You run your hands through his hair and blink back sudden tears at the tenderness of it all, the realization that he trusts you enough for this, whatever it is.
"Okay," he says into your shirt. "Okay."
join the celebration!
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moon-fics · 1 year
Text
Rest Under The Stars-TASM!Peter Parker
A/n: hello, I used to go by River-Fics but I recently lost that account. If anyone has reblogged a fic from me (no matter how long ago) please send me a copy of it so I can post it again. It would mean the world.
Summary: after a long night of fighting crime Peter returns to you for comfort.
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The stars are brightly lit tonight, showing almost every constellation. You’ve managed to find both dippers and Orion’s belt. However, you’ve forgotten to find any others, opting to just gaze at their beauty. Stargazing has become a new distraction for you while Peter is out fighting crime. It calms your nerves and reminds you you’re under the same moon as him and that he’ll always return.
You close your eyes for a second and as if he had been waiting for a mysterious entrance, you hear a thud and a few grunts. You peek your eye open to see your favorite masked hero stumbling on the roof. You observe the way he regains composure and begins walking over to you, with no limp. He seems strong enough to walk straight so your alarms don’t blare.
“It’s dangerous to be out at night!” He teases, dropping down next to you. He removes his mask revealing a large bruise on his cheek. You quickly sit up and place your hand on his injured cheek, careful enough to avoid the actual bruise. He leans into your touch with a soft smile, it calms your nerves and lets you know he’ll be ok for the night.
“If only I had a hero to keep me safe.” You hum, kissing his lips gently. You pull away after a few seconds and you notice his eyes are full of exhaustion. He’s been fighting all night and now he can finally rest. “Busy night?”
“Is there any other type of night? Got punched like a thousand times.” He laughs, wrapping his arm around you. You rest your head on his shoulder and you’re granted his warmth. You could never understand how Peter could conjure so much heat even on a cold night.
“At least there wasn’t any stabbing this time.” You nudge him and instantly apologize when he winces.
“You’d think that after stabbing me so many times they’d realize I’m just gonna be back the next night.” He glances at you with a small smirk, watching as you laugh at his quips. It’s refreshing seeing as the people he fights don’t exactly appreciate his humor.
There’s a long pause where both of you stare up at the sky, basking in each other’s presence. It brings Peter more joy than anything he could ever think of. Your company brings peace to him and often helps him sleep easier. He can’t wrap his head around why you stay when he makes you worry so much. He can’t count the number of times he’s had to watch you fret over every wound wishing he could be someone else. You’ve learned how to sow just for him so he could get extra hours of sleep instead of hunching over his suit with shaking hands, trying to fit a string through the needle.
“Y/n?” He whispers and you look at him with bright eyes. “I love you.” With those three words, your lips part into a huge smile. It’s not the first time he’s said it, not even the tenth. Somehow it always brings a smile to your face, even during fights.
“I love you too, Mr.Crime Fighter.” You giggle. He places his head on top of yours. He can smell your shampoo which is one of his favorite scents, besides burnt wood.
“When we get married that’ll make you Mrs. Crime Fighter, such a long title.” He adds and you roll your eyes. Even if it’s a joke he sincerely hopes you’re the one he marries, if he lives long enough to even buy a ring. He can’t imagine anyone else being by his side for the rest of his life. The thoughts of ghosting you out of fear for your safety are muted when he’s around you, it’s selfish. He knows that your life could be in danger one day but he also knows you aren’t helpless. He’s seen you fight a few criminals when he was too injured to stand. So, for now, he’ll spend every free second he has with you. He’ll even fall asleep on the roof of your apartment building under the stars if it means you’re happy.
“Pete!” Your voice wakes Peter from his light nap, jolting him up. He’s already alert and ready for anything that might have caused you to call. He’s up on his feet, in a defensive position when a hand plants itself on his shoulder. He recognizes it instantly and turns around to face you. There’s a sympathetic look on your face and he lowers his guard. “I was just trying to wake you so we can go to the apartment.” You inform him.
“Oh, yeah no that is way better than what I originally thought.” He nods and the heaviness of sleep drops back down on him. You tenderly wrap your arms around him and guide him to your apartment.
Once you reach your bedroom without anyone spotting you carrying a maskless Spider-man, you carefully drop him on your bed. He’s quick to remove the tight suit and you open his drawer. You pull out new boxers and a t-shirt, tossing it to him. You head into the bathroom to finish getting ready since you’re already wearing sleep clothes.
You exit the bathroom and see Peter half asleep on top of the covers wearing his new boxers. He’s chosen not to put on a shirt and you can’t complain. You crawl into bed and slowly shake him awake. He gets the hint instantly and joins you under the covers. He snakes his arm around you and instinctually pulls you against his chest. Like the furnace, he is he heats you up just enough to be comfortable.
“Goodnight, Mrs. Crime Fighter.” He slurs already falling back to sleep.
“Night. Mr. Crime Fighter.” You respond with a smile.
139 notes · View notes
lovebillyhargrove · 8 months
Text
Wake me up when July is around
Chapter 8
Chapter 9/?
***
The loud beeping of an alarm clock wakes Billy up at 8.30 am on Saturday, and he wishes he was dead.
Last night they partied hard.
Hangover is a logical but, clearly, an unwelcome payback. It feels like a thousand of tiny evil blacksmiths are forging iron on their anvils right inside his head. Fucking christ. Billy opens his eyelids with much difficulty and immediately closes them again. He has to get up, damn it, he has to be at work at 12.
He has to rise from the ashes.
That Halloween Friday sure was freaky.
Billy is instantly filled with regret.
Why didn't he reset his alarm clock yesterday for later.
Before the party, he didn't think about it. He was only shaking his ass in front of the mirror admiring how good he looked in that leather jacket, bitches be thirsty.
After the party it was too late to think about the fucking alarm clock.
Okay, slowly .. slowly, he needs to sit up.
Just don't throw up. On the fucking carpet.
Billy is sitting upright on the bed. That's an achievement. It feels like he's still alive. He can move.
His throat is dry like the Sahara desert, he's in desperate need of water. He has to get to the kitchen.
Billy registers that he's still wearing the dark blue jeans and the gloves from his party costume. The black leather jacket is lying on the floor, near the boots.
Billy slowly takes off the gloves, finds a t-shirt lying nearby and puts it on.
Did he come home at 3? He doesn't really remember. Something like that. He only knows that he was trying to be as quiet as possible, not to wake anyone up, because that skill is ingrained in his brain and body, deep.
Billy forces himself to get on his feet, and sits back down right away, dizzy and miserable.
Okay. Let's try again, buddy.
He so overdid it yesterday.
After dragging himself off the bed, Billy makes it to the door
But the moment he opens it, he understands that it was a mistake. He can hear voices coming from the kitchen, it's Neil and Susan having breakfast. The evil leprechaun must be still sleeping.
Fuck his life, he's gonna die if he doesn't drink water but his dad's wrath is also scary. At least Neil's not gonna kill him right now, in front of his wife, as an extra good morning.
Billy summons all his strength to look as normal as possible and shuffles to the bathroom. He drinks straight from the tap, washes his face and looks at the toilet bowl as if making sure that throwing up is not on today's agenda.
It's still to be seen, but not right this moment, at least.
If he's gonna go back to his room, dad's gonna get on his ass about "being disrespectful" and "not saying good morning". Looks like Billy has no choice but to show his face to them in all its hungover glory.
He checks the face in the mirror. It's fine. Looks human.
Just don't puke on the breakfast table, and everything will be A-okay.
Billy goes to the kitchen, all humble and trying to look like a shadow.
"Good morning, dad. Good morning, Susan."
"Will you look at yourself?"
Neil's voice is full of disgust.
"What time did you get home yesterday?"
"I uh .. a little after midnight, probably. I apologize if I woke you up."
"You didn't wake us up, Billy." Susan is cutting in. "Would you like some breakfast?"
He actually needs to eat something but
He can't even drink coffee right now.
Water. Water. It'll get better in an hour, he just needs a lot of water, and to lie down.
"No, thank you, Susan. I'll get myself something later."
Billy pours a full glass of water. Time to retreat while it's still peaceful.
"I'll be in my room if you need anything."
"Mark my words, son, as soon as you finish school, I'm not paying for another single day of your life! Senior year, the most important time, and he's wasting it on .. what, on debauchery??" Neil is addressing Susan now, all indignant and angry, oh he is angry but Billy hopes it won't get bigger than that.
At nine o'clock Neil and Susan are supposed to go grocery shopping, like they always do on Saturdays. Neil likes it when they stick to a plan. He's already getting up and looking for his car keys. Susan takes the last sip of her tea and starts flopping her good housewife wings around the kitchen.
"Let's go, Susan. Billy will clean up after breakfast, right?"
"Of course, I will."
"Thank you, Billy. Good bye! Wake Maxine up at 10 if she doesn't get up, please!" Susan is taking her purse and the list of groceries.
"Sure. Have a nice time shopping!"
Billy hears his dad telling Susan on their way out
"Seems a bit late to sleep for a girl her age?"
"I know, honey, but she gets so tired during the week, let her have her Saturday .."
The door closes, and they're gone.
It went very well, actually, all things considered.
Probably Neil just didn't want to deal with a hungover teenager cause the said teenager might throw up all over the place, so it's better not to touch him.
Such an unfortunate episode did happen once, when Billy was still in his very green years. He came home drunk, and Neil got in his face. He grabbed the boy by his collar and was telling him what a piece of crap and a fucking burden he was, which only led to Billy feeling even worse. Neil had to run to the shower to wash the vomit off, leaving his son to clean up the mess he'd made.
He got slapped around for that later, but it taught Neil a lesson as well.
Billy goes back to his room clutching the glass of water like a lifeline.
He sits down on the bed again and after finishing the whole glass, lies down. He doesn't want to close his eyes though, cause the dizziness is gonna be back so he's just lying there staring at the ceiling.
Vile gray light is seeping through the window. Outside the rain is drizzling.
Fuck Indiana and its nasty weather right in its Midwestern ass.
Fucking hell.
Billy usually knows when to stop, but yesterday he clearly didn't.
What even happened yesterday? .. He did the keg stand, and there was more beer and vodka .. and he definitely mixed it all, hence the hangover. Smoking non-stop, dancing, Tommy following him around like a faithful bulldog, Vicky hanging on his arm and touching his abs while they were dancing. There was another girl, persistently asking for his attention, Jennifer or .. was it ..
Oh shit.
Oh no no no no
Fucking stupid piece of shit.
Fffffuuuuuucckkkkk.
Billy shuts his eyes but it is a bad idea, because he's getting the dizzies and everything's spinning, so he presses his palms to his closed eyes, wishing to erase the memory of what happened between him and .. fuck. The dumb bitch, Harrington.
He and Harrington fucking .. smooched ??
No no no no nooooo
Billy is groaning hoarsely, and the sound of it reflects the depth of his desperation at his own stupidity
Why is he such an idiot. Why did he do it. He should've instead broken Harrington 's pretty nose ..
fuck JUST nose! Without the pretty, forget that he said .. or thought that.
What was it even, Billy didn't want to start any shit in the first place, as god is his witness.
His clouded consciousness doesn't provide him with much, but some flashes do come to his mind.
Bathroom. Harrington.
He fucking started it!
His face. His lips. His hand on the back of Billy's head, almost hurting, the fingers sharp and digging into his skin
The silky softness.
The wetness of their tongues touching
Fuck fuck FUCK.
Mission: erasing the memories.
Billy is an idiot. A certified one.
***
He crawls out of his bedroom half an hour later for more water, and to go to the bathroom. The hangover is gradually stepping away, but the more it does, the more unsettled Billy is.
His dad is right.
He's an imbecile.
At around ten he bangs on Max's door,
"Wakie, wakie, Maxine!" he bellows and then bangs some more until he hears
"Stop it, you jerk!"
"Rise and shine, birdbrain!"
Then goes to the kitchen to finally find some food.
He's slowly getting back to his senses. At 12 he needs to be at work, and he will be. Old Joe won't even notice that Billy partied last night.
Partied so hard, that he ended up kissing that annoying motherfucker.
Erase, erase, erase.
No panic. It was only once, and it was a mistake but Billy could always say nothing happened.
He was so wasted, he wasn't himself. Hell, he didn't even remember it when he woke up.
Harrington is not gonna run his mouth about it, what is he, a kamikaze?
It's nothing, it's just a drunken slip up.
Happens to the best of us, amirite?
***
***
Steve stays at home all Saturday. They only go grocery shopping with mom, he drives her to the store and back in the afternoon. Or course, Dad chooses this very day to ask him fucking questions. Steve mumbles something about his captainship ot the basketball team and finally finishing his college application essay. He's also retaking his SATs at the beginning of November cause the results of the tests he took last year were not very high. Not high enough.
They were pretty low. After he gets the new results back, he'll still have time to apply to some places. Mom asks him if he has thought of a backup plan, and Steve honestly says
"No, mom. I haven't."
"You probably should."
"Yes, I will, after I'm done with applications. Can I go study now?"
Parents do not seem very happy with the outcome of their conversation, but Steve can't offer more. To him, his future plan looks okay for now.
Honestly, Steve doesn't even know what specific sphere he'd like to study. He's still at home and at school, and the future seems vague and a little bit scary. Nancy is definitely aiming at a university, and Steve's not sure what will happen to their relationship.
Especially after yesterday.
He spends the whole evening revising for his SATs. A lot of confusing stuff. He probably should've started sooner, and not a week before.
Well.
Steve studies more on Sunday, but then Tommy calls and they decide to go to a pizza place.
They order pepperoni and cola, and Steve can finally take a breath with his whole chest
"Ugh man, I've been studying for two days straight, my brain's on fire."
"Dad wants you to get into Yale or something?"
"Well no .. but .. they want me to have a clear plan, and I don't have it, and it's just .. they fucking nag."
Tommy nods in understanding
"Yeah man."
"Must retake SATs soon, and it just .."
"It sucks."
They chew some more pizza
"You remember, Hargrove took your keg king title? The dude got 52 seconds, fucking crazy."
At the mention of Hargrove's name Steve's cheeks start feeling hotter
"Yeah, whatever. I got bigger problems to worry about now."
"The princess?"
"We had a huge fight at the party. She was so drunk. I dunno, Tommy."
"You haven't talked to her since the party?"
"No. Why?"
Hagan is looking at Harrington in a weird way
"Hey, man .. I've actually been meaning to tell you. I think you should know."
"Know what?"
"Your Wheeler girl .. remember you asked me and Carol where she was and we told you she'd left home?"
"Yeah?"
"Well she didn't go home alone."
"That's good? She was drunk."
"Do you know who she left with?"
"How am I supposed to know that? I didn't see her leaving. You and Carol told me she was fine, and I .. I kinda left it at that?"
"So you still don't know?"
"Tommy, what the fuck?"
Hagan's still looking at Steve like he pities him but he also wants to gloat so bad because he told his friend a lot of times to "dump that prissy bitch", and they even fought over it, more than once, and voilà, in the end Tommy is actually right
"I thought that maybe she left with this .. Samantha or something? .. Tommy??"
"You girlfriend left with the Byers freak."
WHAT
"She what?"
"Just thought you should know."
"She left with Byers?"
"Yup."
"Jonathan Byers?"
"Yes, Steve."
Fucking what?
"Are you sure?"
"Dude, I was drunk but not blind. Carol saw that too. Nancy went downstairs in her wet dress, and it was like .. well, he was just standing there near the stairs. They talked for a minute and then went away together."
Well, that's uh .. Steve didn't expect that.
Is that what people feel when their heart breaks? Is that the burning acid of being betrayed?
Tommy eats what's left of the pizza.
Steve doesn't pick Nancy up on Monday to drive her to school as he usually does.
***
***
On Monday before practice coach Nelson informs the team that
"We're having visitors this week, boys! Let's show them all you've got!"
Two sports recruiters are coming to see if they have any hidden talents here in Hawkins.
Billy thinks someone should warn them not to waste their time. There's nothing to look for here. Nada. Fucking zero.
He knows that the odds of being chosen are extremely slim. And even if a recruiter spots you, it guarantees nothing.
Billy has seen his share of sports scouts back in San Diego. He's aware that they are not interested in him.
There are so many good things recruiters told Billy. He's a great player, he scores points, he makes flashy moves, his techniques of shooting, dribbling, rebounding and defense are excellent as well as such attributes as strength, endurance, speed and agility, blah blah blah. His physical characteristics - weight and wingspan - meet the requirements. Add to it Billy's intelligence on the court and the unbeaten desire to win.
He basically has it all.
There's just one problem - Hargrove's too short to be a professional basketball player. He's too fucking short, and that's why a career in basketball is not even an option.
He's 5'10. It's fine. Just not for the NBA.
At some point in his life Billy used to be bitter about his height. That was when the first recruiter came looking and he was like
"Kid, if only you were taller."
The second one said the same. And the third. Little by little, Billy accepted it as it is, and that's why
He doesn't care about the visitors. Unlike him, the whole team is buzzing. Are they stupid? Recruiters will never choose any of them. The only player who has a tiny microscopic chance of getting noticed is probably Andy. He's tall, he's got the physique. His game's not great but it can be worked with.
Harrington, on the other hand? Billy's has seen his serious and focused face, eyebrows knitted together, when the coach mentioned the recruiters.
Please, it's ridiculous.
Billy's not even gonna elaborate. It's simply ludicrous.
Harrington can drool all over his pillow having dreams of a sports scholarship or a prominent career in the NBA, and the sucker can keep on dreaming because that's as close as he's gonna get to playing this sport professionally.
Anyhoo.
It's skins and shirts as always, and Billy's playing rough as usual. He's seen Harrington in the school hallway earlier and they shared a class. Billy just straight up ignored the loser. Steve also didn't seem to look his way much, maybe he doesn't even remember about the kiss.
He also looks as if he's brooding about something, like something weighs heavy on his preppy-ass soul.
Either way, it's not Billy's business and he doesn't give a shit.
And yeah,
Mission: erasing the memories of the most idiotic kiss
Status: incomplete.
In his defense, Billy was so wasted, he could've kissed anyone.
***
***
During the match Hargrove behaves like nothing happened, there's just something about his game that's extra precise and extra ruthless. Like he wants to show with all his obnoxious persona that he's above all that and doesn't give a fuck. It's likely he doesn't recall what happened on Friday night because he was drunk as a fish.
Or it's a bluff.
He remembers.
Steve knows he does. Why is he so sure? Cause Hargrove hasn't touched him once since the beginning of the game, hasn't said anything mean to him. He's trying to send a message that he doesn't care, but he's trying too hard, and it shows.
Billy knows what they've done, and he's .. what, ashamed?
Heheehe.
Nice.
Harrington would've gotten much more pleasure out of it if his heart wasn't hurting.
Are they broken up with Nancy, did she cheat on him? What the hell is this whole fucking situation?
Steve's lost in his thoughts when suddenly he hears Nancy's loud irritated voice
"Steve?"
There she is, standing at the gym doors, clearly expecting Harrington to come have a conversation with her outside.
He doesn't want to bail on his team in the middle of the game but he's been avoiding Nancy all morning, and soon he won't be able to tolerate the level of acidity that has swallowed his whole being.
They do need to talk.
Steve needs it.
They go outside to the little passage between the gym and the school building where they usually hide smoking with the guys.
Maybe it's the first time since they got together, when Steve's absolutely not happy to see his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend? Guess we'll find out now.
"What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?"
Nancy sounds pissed. She talks to him in that tone like .. like a strict mother to a naughty child, when she's angry at him.
"You didn't call all weekend.. and where were you this morning? I missed first period!"
"I figured Jonathan would take you."
"Wha .. what are you talking about?" Maybe she's a good actress but there's genuine surprise in her voice. She looks confused.
Harrington scoffs
"Jesus, you really can't handle your alcohol."
"Uh ..?"
"You remember going to Tina's party on Friday night?"
"Yes?"
"And then what?"
"I remember dancing .. and spilling some punch."
Nancy's thinking for a second.
"You got mad at me because I was drunk. And then you took me home."
Does she really remember nothing or that's all acting?
"No, see, this is where your mind gets a little bit fuzzy."
Steve's making a pause.
"That was your other boyfriend. That was .. that was Jonathan."
There's a perplexed expression on Nancy's face
"I don't understand."
"It's pretty simple, Nance."
"What?"
"You were just telling it like it is."
Maybe she really doesn't remember. That doesn't make it okay though.
"Uh .. apparently, we killed Barb and I don't care cause I'm bullshit and our whole .. our whole relationship is bullshit and .. I mean, pretty much everything is just bullshit bullshit bullshit."
Nancy raises her well-defined eyebrows and wrinkles her forehead
That doesn't make the stuff she told Steve okay!!
"Oh yeah also you don't love me."
"I was drunk, Steve. I don't remember any of that."
Really? So you can get hammered and tell your boyfriend you don't love him, and then everything should just get back to normal cause you don't recall doing that?
"So that makes everything you said .. it's what? Just bullshit too?"
"Yes?"
"Then tell me. Tell me that you love me and there's nothing going on between you and Jonathan."
"Really, Steve?"
"Harrington !!"
Roy is out of his breath, appearing between the buildings.
"Dude we need you, man! That douchebag is killing us! Let's go !!"
"I'm coming!"
"There is nothing going on between me and Jonathan, Steve."
It's nice to hear, really. Steve needs a longer explanation though.
"We're not done talking, Nance."
Their team loses anyways, with or without the captain. There's something about Billy's game today, it's .. like he's holding that distance, with a hint of "nothing personal, guys".. Is he getting ready to show off in front of the sports scouts? The new behaviour infuriates the hell out of Steve, even though the asshole hasn't pushed him one single time.
You're wrong about nothing personal, Hargrove. Locking mouths seems pretty personal to me.
However, Billy's not number one problem on the list of Steve's troubles right now. Let him believe Harrington has suffered a case of amnesia, and there was no kiss.
***
Steve picks Nancy up after school. On the way to her house she tells him
"Nothing happened that night, I swear."
"Are you sure, Nance? You didn't even understand who took you home! You thought it was me!"
"Steve, I would know if someone tried sleeping with me in my own bed, okay?"
She also admits that they sometimes talk with Jonathan between classes or during library study. They talk mostly about Barb, because his little brother Will was also missing last summer. They found him in the woods. Three weeks later, yet they found him. Maybe Barb also disappeared in the woods. Too much time has passed and there's no hope of finding her alive, but bringing some certainty would help her parents obtain peace.
Nancy assures Steve there's nothing romantic going on between her and Jonathan.
Steve's at a loss. Like .. he feels that he can't give Nancy the consolation she's looking for. He has no idea what happened to Barb and he thinks they should let the police deal with the whole thing. He can listen to Nancy, but what else can he offer? He's not .. experienced at things like that.
Steve should probably make a scene anyway and get really pissed and show her how hurt his feelings are, but he's also kinda glad everything 's cleared up, and she didn't cheat on him, and they are still together.
They are still together, right?
Nevertheless, he definitely must keep an eye on Jonathan Byers. The guy took creepy pictures of them in the middle of the night, Nancy seems to have forgotten about that. Steve should have a talk with Byers, tell him to stay away from his girl.
They kiss each other good bye.
It feels .. mechanic.
***
Late at night when Steve's again tossing and turning in bed, he suddenly realises that Nancy told him a lot of words but forgot to mention the most important thing - she didn't tell him she loved him.
Should he ask her again?
Tell me you love me
He's always thought if you're in love and in a relationship, you shouldn't be asking the person you're together with for confirmation.
Steve again feels that he wants to give so much, but no-one needs it, and no-one is willing to give back the same amount.
Of love.
Or even close to it.
Maybe relationships aren't that easy, and he's idealising them.
However, if there's no love, what's there to fight for?
22 notes · View notes
sagevalleymusings · 1 year
Text
A Caveat for my super long Scholomance Essay
I got a few new followers from a recent reblog of mine so as a thank you and definitely not secret plot to scare everyone away, I got the motivation to push through and finish my essay on relationships in the Scholomance series by Naomi Novik. It is, and this is not a joke, over five thousand words. I cite nearly a dozen sources and I have no apologies. Okay I have one apology. Sorry to the person who I will neither be tagging nor naming who said the thing about all the other Scholomance couples being monogamous that inspired me to write ten pages of literary analysis.
Anyway, continue on with your day, or maybe...?
The Scholomance through the Lens of Relationship Anarchy I’m gonna be honest. I was shy to talk about my love of Naomi Novik’s angry anti-capitalist response to Harry Potter. Shortly after I read A Deadly Education, I read a highly critical review which addressed Novik’s diversity and said that it felt more like 90s multiculturalism than 10s intersectionality. The passage about mal hiding in locs was… bad. And having the family that El was estranged from being the Indian half seemed like having your cake and eating it too - the appearance of diversity with none of the work. I’m not going to be able to find the original review now, but I think this article from Book Riot does a good job of addressing both the criticism and explaining a less critical interpretation.
So I was quiet. I could see where the criticism was coming from but appreciated a magic school that had a different interpretation than certain others which have already been named. I decided to wait until The Last Graduate to really make any judgment calls. 
In my extremely white opinion, Novik responds to criticism in both The Last Graduate and The Golden Enclaves in a way that recontextualizes the multiculturalism in A Deadly Education. This book isn’t just anti-capitalist. It’s anti-imperial. Places like New York and London are given more weight because the whole Scholomance is a metaphor for imperialism. The very foundation of the way they’re doing magic is imperialist and corrosive to the soul. But I don’t want to get into all of that until I can really chew on it, since my lack of personal experience as a person of color means I need to bring receipts and a body of research if I plan on speaking at length on that subject. 
I bring it up in context to say that Novik’s The Scholomance series has received valid criticism from various fronts throughout this series. But I think a deeper reading reveals that the thing which you are criticizing was part of the point the whole time. 
I feel similarly about “the cheating subplot” in The Golden Enclaves. 
“The Cheating Subplot” is not how I would categorize it. But I’m responding to this Goodreads review and a lot of interpretations which, as far as I can tell, were influenced by it. 
To summarize, because there’s no way to talk about this without spoilers for The Golden Enclaves, Orion has pushed El away only to, as far as she is aware, be eaten by a maw-mouth. Liesel shows up, and starts trying to actively seduce El. At some point, while processing her grief, she has sex with Liesel. Then, Orion comes back, very much alive. Then he leaves again. More El/Liesel bonding ensues in an airport loo, then Orion comes back, and El and Orion probably get back together.
This has been called a cheating subplot, partly for sleeping with Liesel the first time when she “knew he was probably alive.” And the second time when he was definitely alive and just not around. And at no point does El mention she’s slept with Liesel to Orion. I have a handful of issues with this, and I’m going to address the more minor issues before we get into the meat of it. 
Does El actually sleep with Liesel the second time?
This is splitting hairs, but when I read that section, I stopped, went, “wait they didn’t have sex though” and then read the passage again, and concluded that no, they had not in fact had sex. So when I saw people claiming on the internet that sure, he was dead the first time, but definitely not the second time, I was genuinely confused. There was no second time. So I’ve copied the entirety of what could be the description of El and Liesel having sex on the plane. And Liesel was right: it helped to feel good in my body, her hands and the water running over my skin reminding me that I was whole, even if I didn’t feel that way, telling me I was still all in one piece at least on the outside.
That’s it, that’s the whole description. You can infer that they had sex, but it isn’t stated. What if, instead, they just showered together? Is it still cheating then? Some people would say yes, because you’re naked and intimate with another person. But some people would say no, because that’s not sex.
Does El really not mention it to Orion?
One of the linchpins on this argument is, it’d be fine if El mentioned it to Orion, but she doesn’t. But… does she not? 
After all, we don’t hear every single conversation that people have - just the important ones. Or rather - just the ones that our unreliable and emotionally stunted narrator considers to be the important ones. This series is narrated by El to a mundane to describe how she became a maw-mouth hunter, essentially. Is “and then I told my boyfriend I slept with Liesel” really that important of a conversation to include in the text of the book? Couldn’t we just assume they had that conversation? After all, she does have that conversation with Liesel, in a way that makes plot-relevant sense. We could infer that she’s mentioning it to Orion in the same time frame (and if it seems like a stretch to infer that, see above inferred sex scene).
But I don’t think this is a likely place for this conversation to have occurred because Novik herself says that things were too busy and chaotic for most of the book for relationship negotiating to have been a priority.
The second place El could have mentioned it was in the epilogue, when El hand-waves away several weeks of serious emotional labor into a single paragraph. That would have been the place any rational person would have mentioned their fling to a partner.
We’ve been told in this book by El that she’s perfectly happy as a narrator to hand-wave away huge chunks of the story. I think it is plausible for these two to have had a conversation off screen and for El to just not feel the need to tell us that. This brings up one of the theory points which I’ll circle back to when I get to the theory part - it isn’t enough that it’s possible for those two to have had the conversation. The audience feels the need to have this relationship norm performed for them, so they can assuage their concerns that this might be cheating. But that brings me to a new question…
Assuming their relationship is exclusive, was El under any obligation to have mentioned it to Orion?
Okay, let’s assume that El and Orion are exclusive during the periods that they are dating, with the normal caveats that would apply to any relationship. 
The first time El has sex with Liesel, Orion is dead.
Or rater, El has been presented with a situation wherein the only possible outcome is eternal torture worse than death, and the person she loved is effectively dead because he cannot be brought out from that eternal torture except through death. Point being, it is not cheating to sleep with someone after your partner dies. 
Orion comes back, and El and Orion get back together, but is El under an obligation to tell him any and all people she’s slept with while they weren’t dating?
I would argue not, because it isn’t a parameter that’s applied consistently in monogamous relationships - in fact, if anything, we’re discouraged from telling our current partner our relationships before then. And what happens “on break” in my experience depends on the people involved - some people don’t want to know, some people do. But if it’s dependent on the people involved, the only time El would be obligated to tell Orion about the first time she had sex with Liesel would be if the words “did you have sex with anybody while we were on break” came out of Orion’s mouth.
So what about the second time (which again, I would argue is ambiguous)? Well, I think it’s pretty obvious that they’re on break. Orion leaves to join his mother, who El will have nothing to do with, and before he leaves, Orion tries to ask her to promise to kill him if his mom can’t fix him. They’re saying goodbye. It is unlikely these two will ever see each other again.
So if El and Orion are on break when she sleeps with Liesel the second time, why would she tell Orion about it? They weren’t dating at the time. 
And this is the stance Novik seems to come down on as well, because in her AMA on this question she says, “if El ever wanted to hook up with Liesel again, I think probably a conversation would happen at that point.”
Because it would be at that point that she would actually be dating Orion. 
But I also think we shouldn’t assume that their relationship follows the rules we’re expecting. After all, Novik also has this to say, “To me, it's just, people have different kinds of relationships with different people.” So… Do we know for sure whether or not El and Orion’s relationship is exclusive?
Actually, scratch that, and let’s dig into the meat. When I was arguing on the internet with someone about this, they said “the only other canon Scholomance couples we see are all monogamous.”
That’s already a pretty loaded statement, to be honest. We’re already pre-disposing ourselves to assume both that the people we’ve heard about relationships from are monogamous, and that the default state of Liesel and El and Alfie and Orion is that they are all supposed to be monogamous -this person doesn’t just say “the other relationships are monogamous”, they say couples specifically. But just because a relationship looks monogamous doesn’t mean that it is.
It’s probably for this reason that my irl partner is extremely careful to shoehorn in references to the other people he’s dating whenever the opportunity presents itself, because we live together, and people assume we are monogamous unless we state otherwise. 
I want to set aside this assumption, and look closely at the text to see what norms Novik is really setting for us. To that end, I’ve scoured all three books for every example of relationship drama, and I think Novik is inadvertently saying some rather profound things about the hegemony in monogamous heterosexual relationships in patriarchal post-imperial countries that doesn’t mesh with an anti-colonial anti-capitalist agenda. In simpler, but less accurate words, non-monogamy is anti-colonial. And I think Novik’s descriptions of relationships bear this out.
All of the parents that we see are a straight couple with biological children. No one has gay parents. No one is adopted. Even these cookie-cutter relationships still have a decent amount of variability. Gwen is raising a child on her own as a widow. Liesel’s father was having an affair. But heteronormative expectations for these two bear out. To our knowledge, Gwen never moves on. She is never described as having any intimate relationship with anyone else, despite living on the kind of neo-pagan commune which in my limited experience is absolutely rife with free-love types. Gwen is the textbook perfect example of a mourning widow. She has sex with her high school sweetheart, what, one time? Certainly a limited number of times if El’s statements on the lack of opportunity are to be believed. And loves him and only him for the rest of her life.
Meanwhile, Liesel’s mother is punished for sleeping with a married man - killed for it in fact. And her father is as distant as cheating husbands have ever been stereotyped to be.
So I would still argue that all four of these examples are a body of expectations - of amatonormativity - which is, at the end of the day, rooted in the same colonial, patriarchal mesh that had them building a school on the backs of dead children. 
Meanwhile, this new generation of children are doing something different. 
Rule one about whether or not something is a date or an alliance is if they do something with you and don’t ask for fair share in return. And that’s pretty much all we’re told about relationships for quite a while - El doesn’t even notice that Ibrahim and Yaakov are already dating. 
Our protagonist is willfully oblivious to most everyone around her, so we don’t know much about anyone really. The first hint of an inkling of anyone’s thoughts on relationships other than the one El’s only pretending to be in, really, is when a girl propositions her and Orion for a threesome in the library.
And that is literally the only two mentions of relationships of any kind in the entirety of A Deadly Education. I checked. 
During their senior year, more people are dating. Ibrahim and Yaakov are revealed to have been an item for an unspecified amount of time previously, Liesel starts pursuing Alfie, and Liu has her own fair share of relationship drama.
And don’t forget about Jermaine!
… Here’s the thing. I know for a fact that you forgot about Jermaine because it took me two solid weeks to find this passage again.
We knew that Jermaine from New York had spent the last year in a competitive love triangle with a boy from Atlanta over one of the top alchemists, and we all knew when in a perfect storm of gossipy delight it turned into a trio and an alliance, halfway through the first month of term.
This is in chapter 9 of The Last Graduate, right after El catches Ibrahim and Yaakov kissing, and she explains that there’s just not a lot of romance drama to be had when you’re fighting for your life every day, but that they chewed very thoroughly on the drama that they did have. Jamaal was courting a girl from Cairo “by the book,” and Jermaine had wound up in a triad.
And on that note, I want to come back to Liu’s relationships, because of a very specific line towards the end of the book.
“What was up with letting us hassle you about Zixuan all this time! Or were you trying to decide?”
Here’s the thing. There’s a strong implication in this one line that when Liu kisses Yuyan two days before graduation, she hasn’t severed her flirtation with Zixuan. That’s still on the table. She wants to want the right things. 
The Thesis
So when I say “how do we know for sure that El and Orion’s relationship is exclusive”, it is in the context of the kinds of relationships we’ve been presented with throughout the entire trilogy. And across the entire trilogy, rather than “the only other canon Scholomance couples we see are all monogamous,” of all the romances we see from the kids in the school during El’s tenure, less than half  of them are in completely exclusive monogamous relationships. And only one of the couples is heterosexual.
And I think it does bear noting that there are several hundred kids in each grade, and we don’t know the relationship status of most of them. But I want to circle back to the very first thing we learn about relationships, because I think it bears repeating. 
Rule one about whether or not something is a date or an alliance is if they do something with you and don’t ask for fair share in return. El is in an alliance with Liu and Aadhya. She winds up adding Chloe to the alliance. So… what about everyone else? El spends the entirety of Book 1 criticizing Orion for doing things for other people without asking for fair value, then spends the entirety of Book two doing things for other people without asking for fair value. 
It can be interpreted that this is a rule El made up in her head that doesn’t actually have any basis to the other Scholomance kids, but I think this is the more shallow reading. After all, if we compare it to El’s understanding of the Scholomance, she’s shown to have a better understanding of it than most throughout - even at the beginning. 
I think instead it is one of many examples of the layers that get peeled back across each book. There is the Scholomance as everyone else sees it, the Scholomance as it sees itself, and the Scholomance as it truly is. Each peeled-back layer reveals a truth about El too. In Book 1, the group’s understanding of El is one of grim prophecy - they all believe, even herself, that she has the power to undo them utterly. In Book 2, that force is used for good, and the El she strives to be shines. But in Book 3 we’re given the truth - that the El of grim prophecy and the El as a radical force for good are the same, and the system needed to be brought down.
Book 1 through the lens of El is largely devoid of romance or sexuality at all. She doesn’t see herself as capable of those kinds of feelings and therefore misses them in others. Book 2’s relationships are largely about expectations. Liu struggles with the expectation of choosing Zixuan, El struggles against her mother’s wishes, Liesel seeks an advantageous position, and Yaakov and Ibrahim are found out by accident. There’s a self-consciousness to the relationships in Book 2, an awareness of being observed. 
If Book 3 is how the relationships truly are, then the important takeaway from the addition of El/Liesel is that relationships are messy and undefinable. They happen or not, with societal expectations or not, and sometimes they’re happy and sometimes they end tragically and sometimes you do something stupid because you want to. 
And, I think critically and the reason I think there’s a deliberate amount of relationship anarchy in this book: romance is only one way of forming connections. In The Golden Enclaves, El is finally back with her Mum, previously the only person she could confide in, except this time, it feels  hollow and empty, because of all the things she’s learned and the person she’s lost. Liesel reaches out because London needs help. They meet up with Alfie there too of course, and then decide to talk to the New York Domina. Aadhya drives them there, and Chloe meets them outside to do introductions. El gets coordinates to the real entrance to the Scholomance and rescues Orion, both Aadhya and Liesel coming with. They go back to Mum’s commune and all five of them spend some quiet time together, Mum and Orion needing to heal. Then Liu calls, and the kids have to rush off to Beijing. They meet up with  Zheng, the younger cousin El has bonded with just a few months prior, and rescue Liu from a horrible fate. But in the meantime Orion can feel himself slipping away, and he leaves. Liu needs to heal, so Aadhya decides to stay with her, and Liesel and El go to Dubai - they’ve been told they’re next and want help from El.
They’re met at the entrance by Ibrahim and Jamaal. By the way, do y’all remember “by the book” Jamaal? I find it interesting that Novik mentions his grandfather has three wives (pg 308). And then we find out that Ibrahim and Yaakov, who’d had such a romance in school… couldn’t stay together. They’re from different enclaves. The systems in place tore them apart. But then, because more than just El needs to cast the spell, and the people chanting need to live there, the Dubai enclave guarantees that anyone who agrees to work on El’s golden enclave spell gets a spot in Dubai. And all of a sudden Cora and Yaakov are both with Ibrahim in Dubai now.
Afterwards El leaves for Mumbai to confront her past and it is the only time in the entire book that El is alone. And once she’s done some important self reflection, she goes to the gates of the Scholomance again, and meets up with Liesel and Alfie, Aadhya and Liu, Khamis, then most of the seniors there, and eventually Orion again, who has been in the book less than half the time and who, it is revealed, was literally dead the whole time. Orion as a living, autonomous person exists and is present in the book for seven pages.
Novik’s romances are some of my favorites, because they are always grounded in a person’s complexity. The women in her books don’t become mothers and vanish from the page the moment they find a man they like. They exist for themselves, and love incidentally to that. It’s something that feels unusual next to even feminist books like the Vorkosigan series. 
The Golden Enclaves seeks to break the systems of power that have held El et al captive through the first two books. That includes the expectation so ingrained in our society that most people don’t even know it’s there that a romance is the best and most important thing that can happen to someone.
Having said all that, I want to conclude with an additional side examination. I don’t think people are correct to interpret this as a cheating subplot, because of all the reasons outlined above, and because, like everything, the relationships in The Scholomance series are about so much more than simply X/Y. But even if the interpretation that it is a cheating subplot is correct…
Is The Cheating Subplot Really So Bad?
Young people forget what it’s like. But I’m like, five thousand in internet years, and I remember. The first girl I ever made out with had a boyfriend at the time. So did the second. And the third. 
I’m reminded of The Price of Salt AKA Carol. Or Fingersmith. Young people can call cheating a “bisexual stereotype.” But when I was younger, it was a survival tactic. 
I’m not saying that this is what Novik is trying to portray. But I can say that as someone who was part of a Star Trek mailing list back in the early days and founded AO3, Novik knows what it means to be queer. And relationships when you’re queer are messier. They’re freer. They’re defined by what you say and what you don’t say, which may seem obvious, but too many relationships are defined primarily by what a relationship should look like, and not at all by what you do or do not say.
El and Orion are dating for a year before she realizes it. That’s pretty queer. When El gets him back, there’s never an explicit conversation that they’re dating again. They have sex, but their relationship is fairly undefined. Novik has even explicitly said their relationship remains specifically undefined because El is unused to and uncomfortable with being intimate with people. And we see this, again, not just with Orion, but with every relationship, even the platonic ones. El doesn’t like so much as admitting to knowing someone’s name, because learning their name means caring about them as a person.
There’s never any discussion that El and Orion’s relationship is exclusive. That doesn’t mean that it is, but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t, either. One could see this as cheating, or you could not. But even if it was… why is that something to knock a series you love from five stars to two?
That feeling that you’re having right now? That discomfort? That says that this is running against a taboo that you have. And maybe it’s a taboo that you have for a very good reason. But my point is that you’re responding emotionally, not rationally. And rationally, there��s a lot of good reasons one might have a cheating subplot. Because it wasn’t acceptable at the time to date other women for example. Or to highlight that our characters are still just teenagers, and prone to making bad decisions. Or to draw attention to the messiness that comes even from protagonists, who are traumatized, and just need a little bit of human connection, even if they know it’s stupid, and will probably hurt them in the long run.
Cheating is an extremely human thing to do. Numbers on this are pretty hard to find, but studies estimate that around 1 in every 5 people admits to having cheated on a partner. How many partners have you had? Is it more than five?
I’ve been the person being cheated with, as I’ve already mentioned. But I’ve also been cheated on. Sometimes, authors say things that are true, and it isn’t acceptance of the thing, but merely a reflection of lived experience. These characters are teenagers. Teenagers make bad decisions with little forethought. Why can’t we simply have a messy character? Why does the existence of a cheating subplot have to be treated with such vitriol and hatred?
I think the problem is twofold. A, for lack of a better word, uwu-ification of media which encourages cutesy, shallow stories, and an expectation of conformity due to capitalist streamlining and fan pressure. Uwu-ification
The world has sucked for kind of a while. Things are improving in fits and starts, but in the meantime my generation has seen multiple unprecedented generation-defining tragedies. 9/11, the war on terror, the 2008 financial crisis, COVID, the first coup attempt in 300 years, the COVID recession on top of COVID, a massive uptick in mass shootings and in specific school shootings, just to name the most prominent ones. And the commodification of attention that blossomed with social media means that even what should be good things about this generation - the absolutely incredible technical advances - still sap away at our mental health. 
On top of that, you have the decimation of the long-form essay. I’ve been working on this essay for weeks, read two books and multiple articles, and right now, it’s nine pages long.
Who the fuck is going to read this? Why would anyone read this when they could just check Twitter for a bite-sized hot take instead?
This is starting to change. Podcasts are growing in popularity quickly, and you can also find a lot of long-form essays on youtube (though they’re all, they tell me, going to Nebula). But long form essays are a huge time commitment, and a niche interest, all things told. This is, I have no doubt, exacerbated by the crimes against education George Bush installed. No Child Left Behind was a fucking travesty and absolutely has eroded critical thinking skills substantially. Engaging in that type of deeply analytical pondering takes a lot more energy for someone who wasn’t taught how to do it as a child. So we all have PTSD or at the very least chronic anxiety and on top of that we don’t have the training necessary to unpack our own trauma. Millennials and younger really just want to relax. They want to sit on the couch and enjoy something charming, and cute, and not painful (that or like, deeply terrifying and gory horror, don’t understand that one). 
And I’ve absolutely been that person. Sometimes I just want something cute and charming and fun that I don’t have to think that hard about.
Fan Pressure
But… It seems like on top of this desire for everything to be only the happy parts of Hayao Miyazaki, there’s also this really aggressive push against anything that’s not. Internet collectivism can absolutely be a force for good. I think campaigns to draw attention to people like R Kelly are a good thing.
And also, special interest groups have realized that if they pool together their collective resources, they can campaign for change they want to see. Doesn’t mean they’ll always get it, but we know that if we just use the right hashtag, and just tag enough people, someone who matters will see my tweet about how Destiel should be canon. Even if they don’t listen, they can’t avoid hearing me.
And I bring up Destiel specifically because what we’re talking about is fandom and fan behavior as it pertains to creators and creations in general. Supernatural fans have done a lot of good (raising huge amounts of money for charity) and a lot of bad. But I’m not the only one who has wondered if maybe this ability to amplify one’s voice can be… kind of dangerous. Being able to leverage your voice to call for more representation is good. But that’s not the only thing that gets leveraged.
This is no doubt exacerbated by the way mainstream media has become more and more algorithmically streamlined - catering to the widest audience means producing the same reliable and meaningless format over and over again. I could write another (whoops I’m up to ten now) pages on the finale of She Hulk and its manufactured consent to Disney-fied conformity all on its own.
So what does this mean for The Scholomance?
To bring this back around, because that was a lot of background that felt irrelevant: people want works that they consume in general to be less realistic. They want something cute and easy (or action-packed and easy, or gory and easy). They leverage this to actors and creators, who respond by providing that thing people want. This is all fine so far. But then you get this amplified by the tendency towards monopoly - stories whether they be books, movies, or tv shows, are published because they’re believed to be profitable, and something which is profitable right now is the most processed kind of junk food media you can make. 
But then you get someone like Novik who is portraying an imperialist system in her magic with the intent to destroy it, or who has time-period accurate relationships, including all the lack of consent, or who has messy romances that kind of feel like cheating, and it seems like suddenly, it doesn’t just feel like something different. It feels like a betrayal. Fans aren’t just surprised. They don’t say this one’s not for them. They say they’re disappointed, gutted, devastated. How could Novik have betrayed our trust by adding this kind of a story element… Reach out to Novik and make her change it!
And that’s… not really okay. And that’s the problem I have, ultimately. Because you don’t speak for 100% of fans. You don’t speak for me, certainly. And even if you did speak for all fans… is populism really the ultimate truth in our society? Do we only want things that appeal to the broadest group of people?
I don’t. 
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safetypinklaus · 2 years
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title: Afterglow
summary: Costing Seth his match leads to love confessions and more.
warnings: Smut?
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You and Seth used to be close but ever since the shield broke up you hated him. You didn't care that Seth was sorry and apologized a thousands times. You also didn't care that your brothers forgave him, because you didn't. You was the first female member of the shield, you considered Roman and Dean your brothers. But Seth and your relationship was always different. You still considered him family at the time, but it was never platonic. You had loved him but now you hate him. Well that's what you tell yourself. Secretly you still love him, but you've decided to cover that up with hostility. You had promised him that every chance you got you would make his life a living hell.
Which brings us to tonight. It was the royal rumble, the men's royal rumble match was currently happening right now. You bided your time until there was only two men left in the ring. Seth Rollins and Edge. Running down towards the ring ignoring the screams of the fans and the referee yelling at you, you quickly slid in the ring staring Seth down. 
"What the hell are you doing here? GET OUT OF THE RING!"
"NO, I promised to make your life a living hell didn't I? What better way to do that than to take your wrestlemania moment away?" She told him. He glared at her but before he can say or do anything, Edge took advantage of the situation and threw him out of the ring. 
"HERE IS YOUR WINNER EDGE." The ring announcer announced. You smirked at Seth who was glaring daggers at you, giving him a little wave as you made your way out of the ring and towards the locker room to grab your stuff and quickly leave to the hotel. 
A few hours have passed and you were dressed in your pajamas in your hotel bed, getting ready to fall asleep when a knock at the door disrupted your peace.
Groaning you got up to go see who was at the door. Chancing a glance at the clock on the wall it read 1am. You signed as you open the door before you saw who it was, you told them. 
"What the hell do you want? It's 1am!."
"Aww did I disturbed your sleep? I'm truly sorry" you could hear the sarcasm in his voice.
"What the fuck do you want Seth?"
"You cost me my wrestlemania moment! You have been making my life miserable for years! Why? I want to fucking know now!"
"Why? Do you feel betrayed? Hurt? Join the fucking club. Now you know how I felt when you stabbed us in the back!"
"That's what this is about? The shields breakup? THAT WAS YEARS AGO! LET IT GO!" His fist clenched at his side as you could see his eyes turned an even darker shade of brown. He always did look hot when he was angry. 
"I'm not gonna let it go! You tore apart the only family I fucking had. You tore apart us! I loved you and you didn't even care."
"You see that's where you are wrong! I love you too. I have apologized countless of times, I have tried to make up for it. The boys forgave me, so why can't you? Or at the very least leave me the hell alone." 
"You love me?." You asked him. You could feel your heartbeat pick up, as you throat got a little dry. Surely you misheard him. He meant loved right? As in past tense.
"Yes, despite what a fucking brat you've been. I still love you." He told you, staring you straight in the eyes. You could see that he wasn't lying. Biting your lip, you knew you would probably regret this. You stepped closer, closing the gap between you two. You stood on your tippy toes as your hands went around his neck to pull him into a kiss. He instantly kissed back, pushing you back into the room and using his foot to close the door. Pulling back to catch your breath, resting your forehead on his. 
"I'm not gonna apologize because you deserve it but I am gonna stop trying to ruin your career." You told him as you pulled back to look into his honey brown eyes. 
"You aren't sorry? Well then. I guess I'm just gonna make you sorry. Strip. Now." He order you as he took a step back to watch you undress. 
It was quiet for a minute as you contemplated on if you should obey his orders. 
"Y/N NOW!" Seth growled out. You quickly took off your clothes, as you stood there naked waiting in anticipation for what is to come.
"You remember your safe word?" He asked you as he walked closer to you grabbing your face to look at him in the eye. 
"Yes, Seth I do. It's Peanut." 
He hummed in acknowledgement. 
"Oh honey, I'm going to ruin you." He told you as he yanked your hair pulling your head back to look at him.
"I want you on your knees. you always had such a pretty mouth, let's see you put it to good use." 
He let go of your hair as you slowly lowered yourself to the floor on your knees. Your heartbeat felt like it was gonna beat out of your chest. You were getting more turned on by the minute. Your hands went to unbuckle his belt and then to unbutton his pants. Your hands moved to pull down his pants and boxers as your mouth went to lick the tip of his shaft. 
He yanked your hair back pulling your head up to look at him. 
"did i give you permission to do that?" Seth asked you coldly. 
"No, but you said-"
"I didn't say you could touch. Perhaps you need a reminder on who's in charge here."
"No, Seth I'm sorry. I'll be good." You promised him. You could see his eye twitch in annoyance. You couldn't tell why until you remember during sex, you aren't allowed to call him Seth unless you are cumming. You are only allowed to call him Sir. 
You bit your lip. "Sir, can I please make you feel good?" 
He looked at you before thinking it over and nodding. 
"Now, you have my permission." He gently guided your mouth to his dick. He stroked it a little before shoving it in your mouth. With his hand still in your hair guiding your head up and down on it. 
"Fuck, I forgot how good your mouth feels baby." He told you as your tongue swirl around his member. You started moving your head up and down his dick faster. You could feel his dick twitch in your mouth.
"I'm gonna cum, and you are gonna be such a good little girl and swallow for me." Taking one of his hands to gently caress your face. You couldn't talk so you tried to nod. Swirling your tongue around his member and using your other hand to play with his balls. He came within seconds. Pulling back from his shaft you swallowed. As you stared up at him waiting for his next instructions. 
"Get on the bed, hands and knees" he commanded you as you stood up to follow his instructions. 
"Yes sir." You answered him as you moved to get on the bed. Hands and knees. Ass up in the air. This was always his favorite position, mostly because he loved to smack your ass. 
Removing what little clothing Seth has left. He walked over to the nightstand where he knew you kept your condoms. Shoving one on his member, he crawled on the bed positioning himself behind you. Using one hand to grab your hip guiding your body to his dick, he used his other to pull your hair back. Giving no warning, he slid right in you.
"Fuck, ow." You groaned out. It hurt a little but you didn't mind. 
His thrust got harder as he slammed in behind you. 
"You gonna regret costing me my match. When I'm done with you, you are gonna be nothing more than a blubbering mess." 
He landed a harsh smack to your right cheek as his thrusts got tougher.
"Seth pleaseee." You begged. You needed to cum, it was getting too much, you wanted a release.
He ignored you, as his hand landed another smack to your left cheek. As he started thrusting faster and faster. 
"I'm gonna cum" you shouted at him as he tugged on your hair harshly.
"If you cum without my permission, I'm gonna give you the well deserved spanking you deserve." 
"Please sir! Can I please cum, sir please" you begged as you could feel tears prick your eyes. You needed to cum.
"aw, it hurts? too bad. you're gonna keep taking it until i'm satisfied." He told you as his thurst started going faster. After a couple seconds he had told you "cum with me beautiful."
You climaxed the minute the words left his mouth. He collapsed right behind you pulling you towards him so your head was on his chest.
"Feel sorry yet?" He asked you a bit breathlessly with a smirk on his face . You looked up at him with a glare, you would've slapped his chest but you were too tired. So you just nodded.
"I love you gorgeous, even if you did cost me my match"
"I'm sorry, we will find another way to get you into the main event of wrestlemaina this year."
"Yeah you will, until then I'll just take my frustrations out on you." He looked at you with a grin on his face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. Sleep overcame you both soon after. 
(A/N I don't own anyone. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :).
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gnwzero · 2 years
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| 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘺 ~
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨!𝘫𝘢𝘺!𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧!𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦!
𝐰𝐜: 1,041
𝐚/𝐧: 𝘩𝘪! 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 <3
𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 :
he had just gotten to his dorm from a long day at the studio, his voice was halfway gone, throat sore, mentally drained and just ready for some alone time. well his members had been at the dorm all day and didn’t know about heeseung’s long day at work, so when you asked jay if you should surprise hee, he of course said yes!
you were in the living room with niki playing video games when hee walked in and niki smiled up at him a little and said “you have a surprise!” motioning at you, causing you to smile and look up at heeseung. you expected him to be happy,, but he wasn’t. he kinda even looked.. annoyed?
“what are you doing here?” he said in an annoyed tone and it shocked you a little. “i came so we could hangout and maybe go get dinner or somethin-“ “i can’t always give you time. i’m busy and sometimes just want time to myself y/n. you have to learn about personal space because i don’t know how much more i can take, just go home.” he said walking to his room and slamming the door shut.
your eyes filled with tears as the words he had said replayed in your mind. niki looked over at you completely lost “i don’t think he’s thinking. you don’t need to go home, he’s just in a bad mood, i’m sure he didn’t mean it.” he said trying to reassure you, but it didn’t work. you just shook your head and left, tears streaming down your face, and went back to your dorm with your members as they tried to comfort you the best that they could.
the next day after you had cried yourself to sleep, you woke up to your phone going off to a THOUSAND texts messages. you looked down and saw “hee 💕” ‘s contant popping up on your screen over and over again.
all the texts looked something like “baby i’m so sorry” “i didn’t mean anything” “please forgive me i wasn’t in my head” “i’m so freaking sorry” “i’m coming over with boba please forgive me”
of course you were still hurt, but when he got there with your drink and smothered you in kisses and hugs and apologies, you forgave him. heeseung has a hard schedule and you knew that, but it didn’t give him a right to be a jerk to you, so you let him know that and he agreed and apologized millions of more times until you were literally like “😐 okay please stop talking 😐” because of how many times he had said the word sorry in the past hour JDJSNS~
all in all, the boy would never purposely hurt you in any way and y’all had a great day together watching movies, snuggling, and drinking boba :)).
𝐣𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 :
you and jay have both been planning on hanging out this saturday because it’s an off-day for you both, and you were so excited so excited for it all the week long.. and it was FINALLY saturday >:D time to see your amazing boyfriend who you missed so so much !!
you woke up and started getting ready to meet him at his dorm when you phone dinged and you looked down at it. it was from your leader and it said “early morning practices was moved from monday morning to this morning until noon, see y’all there.”
your heart automatically dropped. you would still be able to see him, but not until later, and you were so sad. you texted him “hey, apparently practice got moved to this morning,, i’m sorry i’m gonna have to come over a little later :/“ and his response was kinda.. strange?
“ok” was all he said,, you didn’t know if he was annoyed or that was just his genuine response.. but jay usually isn’t one to just say “ok” and go about his day.. you could tell he was upset, but you didn’t wanna make it worse so you just went to practice.
at noon after practice, you drove to his dorm and walked in and went to his room and sat your keys down on his shelf, making him look up from his phone.
“hi baby-“ you said going over to him to peck his lips and he gave you a very straight face look like “:|”.
“why do you lie? you could’ve just told me you were with eric, you lying and skipping our day we’re supposed to be with each other is upsetting, do you understand that?” he spoke as your brows furrowed.
eric was one of your best friends, (eric sohn from the boys :)) and you loved hanging out with him, but you would never cancel on your time with jay to be with eric, and jay knew that !! you thought..
“i wasn’t with eric..? i was at practice, i wasn’t lying to you i don’t lie to you.” you said confused sitting next to him on his bed.
“y/n i know you were, look.” he said showing you a dispatch taken photo of you and eric that was uploaded today.. but it wasn’t taken today. it was taken weeks ago,, eric’s hair wasn’t even that color anymore !!
“that was from a few weeks ago-“ “STOP LYING” he raised his voice at you cutting off your words which caused your eyes to fill with tears. he wasn’t listening to you and he raised his voice out of anger.. you felt bad, but you weren’t lying.
tears started streaming down your cheeks as you pulled up eric’s newest instagram post on your phone and holding it out for jay to see. “his hair isn’t even that color anymore.” you said sniffling and jay widened his eyes a little looking at the picture.
he automatically started feeling OH so bad for raising his voice and not believing you.. now that he’s thinking straight, he knows you’ve never given him a reason not to believe you.
he apologized over and over again hugging you and kissing your tears away.
“i’m sorry, i should’ve believed you.”
you ofc forgave him, and y’all spent the rest of the day hanging out on your day off >:D !!
130 notes · View notes
writing-by-mimi · 2 years
Text
Nine Demons and A Baby
     Fandom: Obey Me
     Pairing: Diavolo x F!MC
     Chapter: 4 Of ?
     Summary:  Demonus may just bring your dreams to life.
      Adult content. Read at your own risk. Not beta read.
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You had asked your treasonous plot against the king, to the king.
     Gripping Barbatos hand tightly you began to panic. "I asked you to stop time for me if the king ordered me rid of the baby." The words tumbled out. "You - he - didn't answer. I...I thought you just wanted nothing to do with it...or it was obviously a yes and you didn't need to verbalize it. I- I..."
    "A question I would expect you to ask to save your child. Of course the answer would be yes. I do believe you have nothing to worry about. Let Diavolo speak with his father." He squeezed your hand back as he sat you on Diavolo's bed.
     "But it could get us both killed. I doomed you and the baby." You started to hyperventilate. "I need to go. I need to run. To get far far away from here before he can-"
     "Mc. Please. Calm yourself." Barbatos soft voice setting you on edge.
    "I asked you to betray the Kings orders!"
     "Lucifer and I helped awaken the King, so he could have more time to speak to his father. He has been up since approximately three in the afternoon. Since he has woke, things have been explained. The young master and his father spoke for almost an hour and a half. Things were much better than when the King went to rest. I dare say he is excited for a grandchild. A chance to do better and overcome where he failed Diavolo while lost in grief about his wife's death." He gently rubbed your back. "You have nothing to fear. The young master is only upset because his father used tricks to have an honest conversation. It was a smart move though." The butler held his chin between his fingers. "You would be completely honest to a friend, maybe not to the King. He does not have the young masters ability to discern lies." He tilted his head to the side. "I imagine the young master will make his father apologize to you for the underhanded handling of such an event."
     Hands clasping over your stomach, you looked into Barbatos's eyes. They held truth, he wasn't known for lying. "I'm gonna come up with pass phrases for everyone now." You grumbled, trying to forget your fear and lighten the mood.
     "One can never be too safe." He nodded.
      "Thank you...for being willing to go against the King. Best Godparent ever."
     "I would love a badge. It would make Lucifer sulk all day, but because of his pride, he would act unbothered. It would almost be adorable to watch him try so hard."
      It drew a deep laugh from you. The thought of Lucifer, sulking about Barbatos being awarded the best Godparent. You could already see him, arms crossed, head tilted to the side as he looked down, a melancholy look he would never admit too.
      "You have nothing to fear. I promise you that. Diavolo and yourself are free to lean on me and Lucifer as much as you need. We've already discussed it. Anything, and I do mean anything, you need, we welcome you to ask. Even if it is early in the morning. No matter what is going on, no matter what it is."
     "Thank you." You whispered.
     "No need for thanks." The butler stood. "Seeing both of you happy is the objective for us."
      "You really don't know how much that means to me." You stood as he gently pulled you up as well.
     "I did over hear an interesting tidbit. Would you like to hear about it on the way to dinner?"
     "That feels like a bribe."
      "It may be, but you do need to keep up your strength." He smiled as he lead the way, his hand still in yours. "The king is debating on postponing his sleep for a few thousand years. It means the young master would have the free time available for the child that he did not. I believe it is effort to mend past wrongs."
     "Really?" You couldn't contain your smile. You knew Diavolo would be fully committed to his kingdom, but this news was a game changer!
    "He wanted to meet you first, as to judge who his grandchilds mother was. If it were me, I would be very pleased that the woman birthing my grandchild would go to any lengths to secure their life." He squeezed your hand. "As far as 'treasonous plots', your ask barely even makes the radar, Mc."
     "Seriously?" How the fuck was that? "Whatever though, that's another point on my side in all of this."
     "Correct." He smiled. "I would not worry too much, Mc. If I thought you in danger, I would have already acted."
    You gave his hand a squeeze as you approached the double doors. Barbatos released you, only to open them, again taking you hand and leading you to the left side of the table, next to the head. "The king will sit head, the young master across from you." He took his seat. "Lucifer will be next to you as I am next to Mi'lord."
     You gave a nod, looking at all of the fancy silverware you felt your stomach drop. You would just take your cue from those around you as not to be an embarrassment. The king did say that it could be taught...but you'd still like to atleast try your best.
      You could hear multiple voices, Beels deep baritone was one of them. Letting out a deep breath, it brought a smile to your face.
     "Honestly though, after Mc buys a closet full of clothes tomorrow, I'm takin' my fifteen." Mammon sighed. "Goldie will understand." He explained to Lucifer.
      "Just...please clean it before returning it." He sighed like a disappointed father himself as he took his seat next to you. A smile on his face for you. "I heard you weren't too happy Diavolo didn't explain the coupling. I do ask that you go easy on him. He hadn't the time."
      "Mc met the King." Barbatos casually mentioned as the others took their seats. "He was glamoured as myself."
      "I asked him to stop time. If..."
       Barbatos took over for you, "Mc asked if I would be willing to stop time, if even just for a minute if the King were to order the baby terminated."
        "Holy shit." Levi stood from his chair, knocking it over in the process. "Come with Me, they can't charge you for treason if they can't find you!"
     Part of you wanted nothing more than to grab the third borns hand and run. Lucifers hand on your knee kept you in place. "Sit, Leviathan. The King will not charge Mc with treason. I would think him more proud. I would not keep Mc in the realm if I believed for a moment he would require that of her."
     "I have told her the same, but I believe when the young master returns with his father, he himself can clear the air. To put Mc at ease."
     As if on cue, the double doors opened again, revealing Diavolo and his father walking side by side, whatever they were conversing about carried out in whispers.
    Did you stand up and bow? Would it be wrong not too? "Keep seated, Mc." Lucifer whispered. "I can hear your brain over loading from here." You gave a small nod, studying the empty plate in front of you, hands already instinctively on your stomach.
     Diavolo's eyes were hard, focused on his father as he seated himself. The king stopped on your side of the table, taking a knee to your right. You wanted to move. To run. Lucifer's hand on your knee kept you still.
      "I would like to formally apologize for my earlier actions." His voice was a bit deeper than Diavolo's, not unpleasant to the ears. A mop of long red hair the same shade as Diavolo's hanging loosely down his back. As his head tilted up to yours, eyes a few shades darker then what you had come to adore stared back at you. Diavolo was a splitting image of his father. "I did not intend for our first meeting to be as it was, I simply could not stop myself. My son speaks very highly of you. I was far to curious as to what my future Daughter-in-law was all about, to capture his heart so completely." Bowing his head, he stood and took his seat as well.
    Daughter-in-law.
     As soon as he was seated, servants began to move around the room, pouring glasses of drinks and bringing trays of different things.
     "I...thank you." It was a whisper. He had accepted your marriage.
     "My son has informed me he put a fertility seal in error. I would like to apologize, on behalf of my son. I would also like to inform you, that I will not order you to be rid of my grandchild. Diavolo demanded I verbalize it to you." A small chuckle leaving his lips. "I will admit, I did not think you would ask such a question of Barbatos, but I am very glad you did. It helps ease an old man's mind." He gave you a bright smile. "A woman with the strength to ask the hard questions is a rare find."
     Diavolos hard eyes had dissipated. A small smile on his lips, directed at you.
     "As far as your duties as princess, I would ask that you wait, or atleast take a very light load in starting, as you are with child, well, you will be. As for the etiquette, lessons can start after the kingdoms celebration."
    All you could do was nod. You were in awe. Your wedding wasn't forbidden. The child Diavolo sired within you wouldn't be killed. It was everything you were hoping for.
     "I do apologize, as on your wedding day I will announce to my kingdom that I will no longer be resting. I do not mean for it to take away from such an important day, I simply wish you and Diavolo the time together that I was not able to have with his mother, as I was already ruling King."
     The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. You could only hope the Kings words about a woman who asked hard questions was genuine. "What was she like, Diavolo's mother? The dress makers told me about a dress they made for her. The one when she announced she was pregnant. They said she was absolutely radiant."
     "She always was,"  The king reached for his wine glass, swirling it as he continued. "But pregnancy...she wore it well. I had never seen her as happy in life than in those months. She adored every minute carrying you, Diavolo."
     The prince didn't look up. Instead he opted to down the contents of his cup and hold it out for the servants to refill.
     The king turned to you. "I am unsure how much you know, but I have failed my son in many ways. He carries the grief of his mother passing in child birth. I am certain I am to blame for it. Though I plan to take as long as I need to rectify past mistakes. I wish you and my son nothing but happiness. So if you ever have questions about her, both of you, please feel free to ask. Since I've awoken I've thought long and hard about many things. One of those being how I have failed my wife." He admitted, holding his own glass out for the servants. "She held on to life until shortly after she heard Diavolo cry out into the world for the first time. She fought to keep him and herself alive. If she had faded sooner, I would have lost them both. My wife fought until her last breath to give me a precious gift. One I have not treated as such."
      The table remained silent. "The fabric. The black lace that shines gold. The same fabric is going to be on my wedding dress."
     "I believe I still have her dress, if you are interested in seeing it." The King answered. "She wore her hair up that day, she wanted every stitch of that dress to be visible. She was not vain, but while wearing that dress she truly allowed her self a moment to to act as such. She deserved too. Diavolos mother was never one to care about what she wore, as long as she felt it represented me well. Seeing her so happy and confident... it was what she deserved." He smiled fondly. "I'm glad that fabric will see another happy day. In a way, you've brought part of my wife to her sons wedding."
    You weren't sure when, but silent tears had started to fall.
     "You do not need to cry child. My son and I have done enough of that for a lifetime. She would be very upset if she knew how much we mourned. She would have preferred we hold the happy memories dear. She would want me to share her memory with my son, instead, I was selfish. I gave him nothing but agony when it came to her." He took another drink of his cup. "I chose to do right by her now. While late, it is better than never."
      Looking to Diavolo, his knuckles were turning white. Holding the cup with a controlled grip. Just enough to try and keep himself together without destroying the cup and its contents.
     "When you informed me of the exchange program, I wasn't surprised. Your mother loved the human realm. If she could see what you've done today my son... she would be very proud."
    "Thank you." It was quiet. His grip still so close to breaking the cup. A bit more pressure and it would burst, but so would he. Releasing the cup slowly, he settled for gripping the silverware.
     "I am very surprised a human so readily agreed to a royal wedding. Have humans finally come around in sex in their culture?"
      Your eyes went big. The coupling.
       "Not exactly." Satan spoke up. "They have become a bit more comfortable with it. They allow marriages to same sex couples in some places. Others are still stoned to death."
     "So not much." The king nodded. "You are quite bold. Being so willing to perform sexual acts with my son in front of the crowd."
     "Father!" Diavolo was blushing.
     "She will be with child soon because of earlier sexual acts you performed upon her yourself. There is no need to be shy."
     "I am definitely not shy, your highness." Asmodeus raised his arm putting on his best face to try and seduce.
     Leaning forward over the table and glaring down at the Avatar of Lust, you harshly whisper-yelled down the table at him. "You are not fucking the king!"
    "She is correct." The King gave a dark laugh. "It would be I that would be fucking you." He leaned back in his chair and stared back at Asmodeus.
    Lucifer grabbed his cup, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs with a sigh.
     Diavolo was as red as his hair.
     "I don't think it would be fair to you though, you'll never fuck anyone else like me. I tend to leave those that have had the pleasure looking for something they can't seem to find without me." A challenging smirk on his lips as he acted nonchalantly. Resting his elbow on the table he held his head up. Damn. Asmodeus was actually trying really hard. You'd be proud if he wasn't trying to fuck Dias dad...
     Demons really did like sex. They were different than humans... because in the human realm you don't lament about the dead love of your life then start flirting this hard...though the man had eighty thousand years to mourn...  humans waited like a year...
     "I've ruined many, stronger than you." His voice deep and seductive.
    Asmo pulled back and studied his nails, bored look on his face. "Maybe you shouldn't fuck my tight little hole. I like someone who knows how to actually pleasure a partner." He let out a defeated sigh. He continued to act bored, inspecting his nails.
      The king stood walking to Asmodeus quickly, grabbing him by the neck and yanking him up. "I will leave you searching for me."
     Asmodeus had a look of exhilaration on his delicate face as he bit his lip harshly. "Is that so? So far your foreplay is lacking." He spit into the kings face.
     All you could do was gasp and cover your mouth in shock.
     "I'll have you begging for my cock by the end of the night." Asmodeus smirked. He didn't get much more out as the king closed the gap and took Asmodeus's lips in a hot kiss.
     "You're welcome to try, little one." He growled.
      Asmodeus's small hand darted out as his fingers deftly found the kings nipple, twisting it roughly making the older man hiss. "I don't have to try." He whispered.
      A rough smile took the kings lips. "If you'll excuse us." He then scooped Asmo up easily, holding him by the ass as the Avatar wrapped his legs around him.
     "I don't think there is enough therapy in the three realms for the day this has been. Anyone else have emotional whiplash?" You whispered outloud.
    "Just bring a bottle." Lucifer sighed.
    "So ya gonna call asmo mom or dad?" Belphie looked down the table.
   "Make it two bottles for me." Diavolo wiped his hand down his face as he leaned back. "I know you are joking Belphegor, but I guess one could do worse. At least I won't have to worry about a wicked witch senerio. I'll take any win I can if it were to happen." He thanked the servant as he slumped in his chair. Opening the bottle Diavolo took a swig from it. "I apologize, I completely forgot about the coupling." He blushed. "I take it the brothers informed you?"
    You nodded quickly. "Yep." You gave a thumbs up as you felt your face flush.
    "Thank you."
     "For what?" You were confused now.
     "For still wanting to continue the wedding. I was worried it would freak you out to much." He confessed.
     "It does." You squeaked. "As long as your with me...it shouldn't be all bad." You looked at the tray of food in front of you instead of Diavolo.
      A hand setting a plate into your view drew your attention from your thoughts. "You should eat." Beels warm smile greeted you.
    "See, told ya I needed you." You returned the smile. "Oh, that reminds me," You smiled to Diavolo, "as princess, I can hire...assistance?" You asked, looking for the right word.
     "We take no qualms with being called servants, Mc." Barbatos smirked as he sipped his tea.
     "Yes. It's actually something you get to do after coronation. Do you have something in mind?" The prince asked as he grabbed a slice of meat.
     "Sort of." You smiled. "I can hire anyone for anything, as long as they accept, right?"
     "They must pass the castle background check. A few other test. Nothing someone capable can't pass. Who do you have in mind?" Barbatos smiled politely as he set his cup down.
     "Well, I haven't asked them yet. I'm more just trying to get the details. How would I go about paying them?"
     "Barbatos or I can talk to the accountant. All I ask is that you don't overpay or over promise." Lucifer poured another glass of Demonus.
     "Although I do have Barbatos looking into a maid for you. Unfortunately I will not budge with that. Anyone else though, feel free."
     "Do you have a brother?" You shot Barbatos a wink.
     "No. You are out of luck for that. Though I am flattered."
     "Worth a shot." You smiled. "I still can't believe your dad agreed." You turned your attention to Diavolo. "Are you sure you want to marry me?"
     "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." The soft, loving smile on his lips made you melt.
     "Do you want a girl or a boy?" You were exited for his answer.
     "It matters not to me. I will love them no matter what. Even a daughter. A Queen can rule the land if she so chooses."
      "Could you imagine her trying to date? Uncle Lucifer just giving the glare." You couldn't help but giggle.
      "I will do more than glare." He mumbled, still downing Demonus. "I cannot believe my brother. I've worked hard to establish us here... we may very well be thrown out...again."
     "You will not be removed from my kingdom, Lucifer. No need to worry about that. Also, if we have a girl, she is not dating until she is atleast fifty thousand years old. I'll scalp anyone who tries in front of a crowd at R.A.D.." He smiled happily, taking another swig of his bottle.
     "I'm not even one hundred and you are gonna get me pregnant anyday..." you cocked an eyebrow.
    "Still not my point."
     "Imma scare the living shit outta the little shit that thinks he has a chance." Mammon laughed loudly.
     "Thank you, Mammon! He understands." Diavolo chuckled.
     "Well what if it's a little boy? Will you scalp the hussies trying to get with them?" You crossed your arms.
     "No. I will raise a strong son." He said, confidence radiating from him.
     "I'd say Barbatos did a great job raising a strong man. Look what he did." You quipped.
     "Well I had been in love with you for years. Ask Lucifer." He opened his second bottle of Demonus.
    "What? Years...Lucifer!" You slapped his shoulder. "You knew we liked each other the whole time and didn't say a word?" A pouty look on your face. "I poured my heart out while we got drunk listening to records, you could have stopped it and just told me! I cried for like an hour that night because I saw him kissing that girl in the market."
    "It wasn't my place. I can't help you both trust me. I saw it as the best way to be loyal to both of you. Maybe it's the Demonus," He tilted his glass back, finishing it and filling it again, "but I still do believe in true love. If it was ment to be, it would happen."
     "Just how many times did you see Diavolo doing stuff with other people?" Leviathans curiosity getting the better of him. "When we were at The Fall, you saw all of that... then the market...it's like an angst manga." He cringed.
     "A lot more than I care to think about." You mumbled. "The worst was the tea time escapade." You pushed some of your food around your plate.
     "Tea time escapade?" He asked nervously.
      "No wonder you felt so hopeless. The prince was always trying to stick his dick in something." Satan sighed.
     "What is the tea time escapade?" Diavolo nervously turned to Barbatos.
     "You had scheduled a four o'clock tea time with Mc. It was mostly just so you could stare at her, but you told her it was to discuss grades, young master."
     "She cried for hours in Asmodeus's room. I almost had her back in mine." Satan sent a smirk to the prince. "She probably would have had sex with anyone of us that night in an effort to feel attractive to someone. Your saving grace being six out of the seven of us were angels. So an attempt was never made."
     "I remember that night." Belphie snickered. "I almost had Beel talked into a double team."
     "I woulda railed ya six ways from sunday that night." Mammon off-handedly shrugged. "Pretty sure the thought even crossed Lucifers mind."
     "The best way over one is under another, as my brother would say," lucifer stared into his cup. "But I also knew of both of your feelings. So I decided not to meddle." He said truthfully.
      You were torn. On the one hand...that was really sweet. They wanted you to feel attractive, loved, when your heart was in pieces. Now it was just sort of weird, you were marrying Diavolo, the man who had crushed your heart many times without realizing, but it still belonged to him.
     "Your three o'clock with a miss Dreka Sloak carried over, on account of you engaging in sex, you told me to dismiss Mc when she arrived. If from guilt or just wanting more time to seek pleasures of the flesh, I am unsure. I had anticipated meeting her in front of the castle, Mc however was teleported by Solomon to the garden doors. I came down the hallway as she was leaving. Muttering to herself how stupid she was to think someone such as yourself could find her loveable at all. She stopped back at Solomons and asked if he could brew her a potion to remove feelings of love I found out later."
      "I couldn't bring myself to do it. As hurt as I was...it just didn't feel right." You said softly. Although you would be marrying Diavolo tomorrow night, the memory still hurt.
      Diavolo took another long swig of his Demonus. It was almost gone. "I am glad you didn't. I would have been heart broken finding out later that you did not feel the same. I probably would have scheduled another appointment with Dreka." He admitted. "Dreka is gorgeous."
     "I know. I heard you tell her as you kept fucking her in the ass." You said bitterly. One thing was his honesty. While very helpful...it would also hurt sometimes, but better a hard truth than candied lies.
    "She deserved to know. It really is the perfect ass."
     "Perhaps you cut back on your drinking. It seems to lower your IQ to room temperature." Barbatos chastised, eyes narrowing.
      "It's fine, Barb. It's something I'll have to get used too."
     "You really shouldn't though. He should be able to have the where with all to not upset his future wife as such." Lucifer continued to stare into his glass.
     "Well, today went too well anyway." You pushed your plate away.
     "I've upset you by speaking about another woman who I find especially attractive."
     "What gave ya that idea." Mammon grumbled.
     "I am sorry I can not lie about how she had the most enchanting eyes in the kingdom. Or probably the best ass I've ever seen on a woman." His eyes were downcast.
      "Perhaps you marry Dreka, young master." Barbatos's voice holding a venom.
      "She would make very beautiful children. A beautiful Queen."
       You took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Perhaps you take Dreka as your wife. Since she has the prettiest eyes and best ass in the kingdom. She'll make you better children than I could." You said quietly. "Remove the sigil, Lucifer."
       A shocked look took over his features as he looked from his glass to you. "Are calling off the wedding? The baby?"
     "Well he already kinda came in me, so what happens, happens. I just don't think marrying is the best option, for either of us." You stood up. "I can't live my life knowing I'm second best to any and every woman in the kingdom. Maybe I'm just being over sensitive... but I want a marriage where I know I'm the most important thing, other than a child who should take first." You wrung you hands. "So just take it off."
    "No, Mc, you can't!" Diavolo stood quickly. Only to get light headed and fall back down. "Please. I want you to have my child!"
     "Would you sleep with Dreka, if you knew I would never find out?" You needed to know if love was enough. He was obviously physically attracted to her, but that wasn't what bothered you the most. It was how he spoke. His tone. Like this woman you had only ever seen once from a back view held the stars to him. It was almost the exact tone he used with you. Only difference being was his cock wasn't making you babel like a fool. You were clear headed enough to see.
     "I am unsure." He admitted quietly. Looking solely at the now empty bottle of Demonus.
      "The man I want to devote myself to isn't even sure if he could do the same. That I won't be enough." Your voice cracked. "What if I have your baby?" You held a hard look on your face. "What if you fuck Dreka an impregnate her? You're great at making sigils." Your sarcastic laugh echoing. "What then?" You stared him down. "Tell me!"
     He never brought his eyes up.
     "I bring a child into this world that's second best. Just as I am." Your hands on your stomach. "Take it off Lucifer."
     "Mc..." He voice was hesitant.
     "Please. Don't." Diavolo finally looked up. "I would always love our child."
     "Just as much as you love me, I'm sure. Lucifer, I command you to remove the fertility sigil, now." You undid the tie, revealing yourself and the stupid sexy outfit underneath. How stupid you had been.
    Lucifer rose, not looking as he removed the sigil easily. "It is done." His voice was quiet and low.
      "Mc..." Mammon stood up quickly, slapping Leviathans shoulder. His eyes never leaving your stomach.
     "It took." Barbatos stunned voice drew your attention. "The strength of the sigil concealed it."
      "It should taken longer to conceive..." Satan stood and made his way to you. Crouching down, his fingers traced where the sigil had been just a moment ago. "A child of the three realms...the magic...it very well could have sped it up?" He looked up to you. "You're pregnant. We can see it's soul."
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Enjoy the double bc my internet is whack and I am afraid it won't post if I don't post now. XD
Aldo, a bit of angst, but Mc is getting that happy ending. I just couldn't resist cuz I am a sucker.
Tag list: @luciferwifu @my-perfect-machine @archangel1206 @tigress1 @trendyharold @welcometodemonschoolfan @littlelias-stuff @downbadsad @my-simp-land @itsmeninerz @bunna-does-stuff @obeymediasimp @dont-ask-me-pls   @aviyanna @fugeycreeper @madieg02 @too-much-stresss @pearlofabyss @lloydlovebot @night-snows00 @chocatie @weirddutchgirl @mocahbutterfly @zanyballoonxombie @blackstarqueen @serenavv @lovekaku @idfk-lolll @tirzamisu @hauntedcatnerd @mewchiili @kita-sds @dotster001 @futurecorpseinspector @momokotuharumaki @purple-thrill @flaringfoxsoul03 @heatofmyexoheart @undeaddevildom @kokoirne @tryingtounfuckmylife @deepstartisanhumanoidshark @momokotuharumaki
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naivesilver · 7 months
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👉👈 perhaps, something from the angsty asks for Thee divorce au? if you feel inclined to? If you're not feeling inspired, however, I will offer you the option of: angsty asks + any iteration of Lampwick that you wish ✌
BEWARE!!!!! I's almost Christmas, which means soon will be prime Hallmark movie season and these bitches can get divorced again 😊💕
Angsty Question Prompts
"Are you sure you’re gonna be okay on your own?"
"How's she holding up, now that she's back in school?"
"Better than I thought." Lampwick pauses just enough to wedge the phone between his shoulder and ear, thus gaining an additional free hand he can use to continue cooking and talking at the same time. "Her teacher said she's very well behaved these days. Like nothing's happened."
He hears August hum distantly in response, as if trying to come up with a reply. "She's very young. They process things different at that age."
"Thanks for that," Lampwick cuts back, sharper than he'd intended. "Like I haven't heard the same thing from everyone and their mom lately."
He regrets it almost immediately when silence reaches him from the other end of the line, but then again, he finds himself astonishingly short in patience as of late. People are full of helpful tips and pitying smiles when you've buried a sister within the last couple months, but not one of them has so much as offered to help him move a toddler's life into his apartment, except maybe Robin, who has the sleeping patterns of an insomniac chicken and does the preschool drop-off in the morning.
Robin, and August. August would probably shoot the moon down if Renata asked him, and Lampwick has just snapped back at him like it's no big deal, and apologizing is out of the question, given how awkward things still are between them. All that's left for him to do is to let his frustration out on the eggs he's currently preparing, who he can now face two-handed and who are turning out to be more scrambled than he had planned.
Damn it, how does one even feed a kid consistently? He's out of ideas two days into every week, and yet he still has to make sure Renata gets all her proteins and fibers and carbs, breakfast, lunch, snack and dinner, and can't just reheat pasta five times in a row anymore. How did his sister do it? Actually, how did he survive on those depressing bachelor meals for about half a year, after the divorce papers came through?
"What about you?"
The question catches him unprepared, fumbling with his whisk and frowning at an invisible interlocutor. "What about me?" He parrots, dully.
"How are you doing? Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own?"
No, Lampwick is not sure. Not in the slightest, in fact. There are days where he feels like he's treading along the edge of a huge crack that has opened across the floor of his house, and the only reason why he doesn't simply jump in is a three-year-old with his bright hair and her mother's dimpled smile, sleeping in the next room over clutching her stuffed horse.
He's not okay, no. He wasn't ready for this, but there's no one else who'll do it - at least, no one else he trusts to do it the way Renata deserves, with love instead of pigheaded agendas.
Which is why, instead of letting any of these thoughts pass his lips, he simply snorts and says, forcedly snarky: "Course I am. I always come through, don't I?"
"Yeah." The doubt is heavy in August's voice, probably because he's heard this kind of act a thousand times during their marriage, but mercifully he doesn't comment in it, and only adds, "But...please, call me if there's anything I can do. You know it's never a problem."
You weren't saying that last year, Lampwick thinks, tartly, but that isn't helpful, either. They are grown men, not resentful children. They are supposed to act maturely, even when they are sad and upset and grieving. "Sure. I'll keep that in mind."
Then he hurries through his goodbyes and tosses the phone aside, letting go of the whisk and numbly wondering when he started clutching it so tightly that his hand is now cramping, aching as though he'd punched a wall.
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gunbf · 10 months
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can’t believe u have eminem on ur blog smhhh
you're right honestly. it's time for MY apology. so, here we go.
yeah
i know sometimes things may not always make sense to you right now
but hey, what daddy always tell you?
straighten up little soldier
stiffen up that upper lip
what you crying about?
you got me.
hailie, i know you miss your mom, and i know you miss your dad
when i'm gone but i'm trying to give you the life that i never had
i can see you're sad, even when you smile, even when you laugh
i can see it in your eyes, deep inside you want to cry
'cause you're scared, i ain't there?
daddy's with you in your prayers
no more crying, wipe them tears
daddy's here, no more nightmares
we gon' pull together through it, we gon' do it
lainie uncle's crazy, ain't he?
yeah, but he loves you girl and you better know it
we're all we got in this world
when it spins, when it swirls
when it whirls, when it twirls
two little beautiful girls
lookin' puzzled, in a daze
i know it's confusing you
daddy's always on the move, mamma's always on the news
i try to keep you sheltered from it but somehow it seems
the harder that i try to do that, the more it backfires on me
all the things growing up as daddy, that he had to see
daddy don't want you to see but you see just as much as he did
we did not plan it to be this way, your mother and me
but things have got so bad between us
i don't see us ever being together ever again
like we used to be when we was teenagers
but then of course everything always happens for a reason
i guess it was never meant to be
but it's just something we have no control over and that's what destiny is
but no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep
maybe one day we'll wake up and this will all just be a dream
now hush little baby, don't you cry
everything's gonna be alright
stiffen that upper lip up, little lady, i told ya
daddy's here to hold ya through the night
i know mommy's not here right now and we don't know why
we fear how we feel inside
it may seem a little crazy, pretty baby
but i promise mama's gon' be alright
(ha)
it's funny
i remember back one year when daddy had no money
mommy wrapped the christmas presents up
and stuck 'em under the tree and said some of 'em were from me
'cause daddy couldn't buy 'em
i'll never forget that christmas i sat up the whole night crying
'cause daddy felt like a bum, see daddy had a job
but his job was to keep the food on the table for you and mom
and at the time every house that we lived in
either kept getting broken into and robbed
or shot up on the block and your mom was saving money for you in a jar
tryna start a piggy bank for you so you could go to college
almost had a thousand dollars 'til someone broke in and stole it
and i know it hurts so bad it broke your mamma's heart
and it seemed like everything was just startin' to fall apart
mom and dad was arguin' a lot so momma moved back
on the chalmers in the flat one bedroom apartment
and dad moved back to the other side of 8 mile on novara
and that's when daddy went to california with his cd and met dr. dre
and flew you and momma out to see me
but daddy had to work, you and momma had to leave me
then you started seeing daddy on the t.v. and momma didn't like it
and you and lainnie were too young to understand it
papa was a rollin' stone, momma developed a habit
and it all happened too fast for either one of us to grab it
i'm just sorry you were there and had to witness it first hand
'cause all i ever wanted to do was just make you proud
now i'm sitting in this empty house, just reminiscing
lookin' at your baby pictures, it just trips me out
to see how much you both have grown, it's almost like you're sisters now
wow, i guess you pretty much are and daddy's still here
lainnie i'm talkin' to you too, daddy's still here
i like the sound of that, yeah
it's got a ring to it don't it?
shh, mama's only gone for the moment
now hush little baby, don't you cry
everything's gonna be alright
stiffen that upper lip up, little lady, i told ya
daddy's here to hold ya through the night
i know mommy's not here right now and we don't know why
we fear how we feel inside
it may seem a little crazy, pretty baby
but i promise mama's gon' be alright
and if you ask me to
daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird
i'mma give you the world
i'mma buy a diamond ring for you
i'mma sing for you
i'll do anything for you to see you smile
and if that mockingbird don't sing and that ring don't shine
i'mma break that birdie's neck
i'll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya
and make him eat every carat - don't fuck with dad, ha ha
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