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#Im going to lose points for looking up words but you know what
mrshesh · 9 months
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i saw on your rules that you don’t write hardcore nsfw, so im gonna try to stay tame LOL
how would ghost be in bed? i feel like im so conflicted about this topic
ghost in bed - simon "ghost" riley x reader
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overview: how simon "ghost" riley would be like in bed
pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gender neutral reader, romantic
genre: smut, fluff
a/n: i'm actually so passionate about this topic. he's very misrepresented in our fandom, so i'd like to give my two cents regarding this topic. thanks for the request, anon!
TW! mentions of SA, abuse, suicide, and torture. proceed with caution.
Contrary to popular belief, he is not the rough dom everyone makes him out to be. He wouldn’t slap or spit on you. He wouldn’t push your head into the mattress and call you the filthiest words that come to mind - no, he’d be gentle, careful, and loving. 
Simon has been through hell and back - he knows what it feels like to be hurt better than anyone. Physically, verbally, emotionally, and psychologically, you name it! He knows it all, so he doesn’t get off on it. 
His past is extremely gut-wrenching. He got betrayed by everyone, even his own team. He got tortured for months and months on end, to the point where he got severe PTSD and anxiety. He suffers from nightmares and panic attacks and has even tried to take his own life. We also know that he got SA’d in the past, in the months he got gravely tortured. (Reading the comic was seriously terrifying.)
The fact that his father was abusive isn’t helping his case, either. 
And on top of that, he dislikes exposing his body and face. 
So best believe he’s only sleeping with you when you fully trust each other.
And when he does have sex with you, my god, it’s gentle. 
He loves missionary and sitting cowgirl. Being able to hold you close, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, and press his forehead against yours - those things he’d do during sex, not choke you till you pass out.
He has lost everything he has ever loved, so losing what he loves the most, you, is out of the question for him. And that results in him being extremely cautious while having sex. He’s terrified of scaring you away. 
He whispers sweet nothings in your ear constantly. “I love you so much.” “Takin’ me so well.” “You’re so beautiful.” 
His face is redder than a tomato. Having intimacy with someone he loves is a pretty new thing to him, so his cheeks are painted a light pink from the get-go. 
The aftercare consists of soft kisses, compassionate touches as he cleans you up, and praise, so much praise. 
The moral of the story - he's a gentle giant who's absolutely terrified to lose you, despite his hard rock exterior.
this turned dark really quick, but it had to be said.
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janitorhutcherson · 5 months
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olderbfyandere!mike schmidt
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surprise, bitches!!! im giving yall a lil taste of some more writing. im not really on hiatus (obvi, i post every 5 minutes) but i've been sooooo busy that i haven't been able to post half as much. with that being said, here are some more in depth headcanons ab yandere!mike. :p could not have done this without @futturmand literally helping me (coming up w/) most of these. thank u bae.
warnings: drugging, violence, sex, daddy kink, abusive tendencies
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olderbfyandere!mike schmidt was kinda an asshole. to his coworkers, random customers at the mall, anybody who came too close to you, and yes, even sometimes to you. he was the kind of guy who had a semi-permanent grimace on his face. the corners of his mouth would turn into smiles typically only when he was with abby or you two were alone and he could let his guard down. of course, even then, the moment you caught an attitude, that grimace would appear right back on his face. his demeanor was typically gruff. he was the kind of guy most people didn't want to mess with. this meant any male coworkers around you would be tested their fate to even glance at you the wrong way and god forbid mike saw one of them brush something off of your shoulder. that would truly be the end of them.
olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is very obsessive over safety. after losing garrett, he has this urge to do nothing but to protect. this means that mike is the type of guy to want your location at all times. not only that, but he wants to know what you're doing, who you're with, and what time you'll be home. he expects a text when you leave, a text when you get there, an hourly check-in, then a text on your way home. it brings him a sense of peace, knowing where you are. he watches life360 obsessively when you're not in his sight, watching your little bubble move through wherever you may be. he's constantly checking the speed of the car you're in, occasionally stalking your friend's instagram stories to see where you are. he's overprotective to the extent that it can be overbearing, but at the end of the day it's endearing knowing he cares that much.
olderbfyandere!mike schmidt uses the fact that you're younger than him to manipulate you. he's less about violence or anything physical and instead uses his words. he will constantly remind you how helpless you are without him, how he has so much more life experience than you. he'll point out randomly when you mention not knowing how to do something, saying something like, "see, babydoll, where would you be without me? that's right, nowhere. you need me to take care of you." he's also the kind of guy to eventually make you financially dependent on him if he could ever afford it. he would never put you in that spot until he was comfortable enough to do so, though, meaning it might be a loooong time before that ever happened.
olderbfyandere!mike schmidt treats you less like a partner and more like a little sibling, kinda like he treats abby. as strange as it is, he also feels a paternal instinct to protect you. it comes from his deep-rooted feelings of abandonment. he lost garrett, his mom, his dad, and sometimes he feels like abby hates him. he loves that you listen to him, that he can command you to do something and you'd be so good for him. he absolutely adores being able to control different aspects of your life, making you completely reliant on him. it makes him feel special and needed, which he hasn't felt in a very long time. he loves nothing more than when he gets to scold you almost like a parent, your eyes falling to the ground, that adorable wounded puppy look he loves so much taking over your face.
olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is incredibly clingy and touch starved. he wants to have a hand on you 24/7. forget having personal space, because you are not getting it with him. he'd follow you around, watching you everywhere you'd go. his hands would grip onto your hips so tightly sometimes it'd feel like they were glued to them. he'd always have his arms around you, kissing at your neck, nipping in a way you felt shouldn't be shown in public. mike didn't care, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him in every single way. he controlled you, and if he wanted to embarrass you and turn your face red by leaving purple marks on your neck in the middle of a shopping plaza, then so be it. you would take it or be punished.
olderbfyandere!mike schmidt who of course uses his sleeping pills on you when you're being a little brat. he isn't violent with you for the most part except for the rare occasion when he will hold you down onto the bed until you'll listen, but otherwise he opts for something simpler. when you're being a little too frustrating for him, going against his every command or you're not feeling like being held, mike will simply crush up his sleeping pills, slip them into your water. he's careful with you once you doze off, never abusing you in any way. all he will do is tuck you into your shared bed and hold your body in his arms, whispering sweet nothings as you're off in your own sweetly drugged up world.
olderbfyandere!mike schmidt would most definitely have a thing for being called daddy. sorry guys, it had to be said. hot take, i guess. considering he did want to protect you so thoroughly, he loved when you'd call him daddy. it made him feel like your protector, like you knew he was the one that did everything for you. it was so crazy how such a simple word could change his whole day. he loved hearing it fall out of your lips as he'd brush through your hair or wash your body off in the shower. "thank you, daddy," you'd hum and he'd grin ear to ear. "you're welcome, babydoll," he'd always say, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
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sleepymarimo · 6 months
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I have this head cannon that I’ve been thinking of for awhile and just had to share with you.
Imagine y/n growing up with zoro in the village and she’s a couple years younger than him and called him zoozoo once, but he kinda liked it so he let her keep calling him that.
Fast forward to them running into each other at a random market while he’s out shopping with sanji and sanji hears her call him zoozoo. Once they leave, sanji makes fun of him by calling him zoozoo and Zoro just pulls one of his swords and looks him dead in there while saying, “call me that again and I’ll cut your tongue off. Only one person can ever call me that and it’s not you.”
𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.
summary: read above! pairing: zoro x fem!reader cw: none! mostly fluff, perhaps a bit bittersweet an: hi anon!! i just had to write this bc it was too cute :) also pris try not to write something under 1k words challenge go!! ugh i need to tone it down fr... anyway, enjoy some fluff and thank the anon for their sweet hc.. also im going for a new theme soooo... wc: 2k
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you were like a little fly, always buzzing around him.
technically, it was kuina that you clung to, but it might as well have been him, too.
every duel and training session, you were there. you'd clap your hands and cheer on kuina, the girl you'd come to see as an older sister of sorts. "get him kookoo!" came your chant, a toothy grin on your face as you watched the green-haired boy lose his temper once again. "y'can't beat kookoo, zoro!"
even as he barks at you to shut up, you can't help but grin. you know that you'll be scrambling to get him bandages later and you know that he'll refuse your help, all while kuina laughed in the background. this was the dynamic, the camaraderie you had all shared. kuina, zoro and you.
then it all came to an abrupt halt.
kuina's death hit everyone hard. you were inconsolable, missing her so dearly that it made your heart hurt. not knowing what else to do, you turn to the green haired boy who was the closest thing you had to her.
the two of you stand at her grave, one of your tiny hands balled into the fabric of his shirt as if he'd disappear at any moment. your free hand rubs at your tender cheeks, red and swollen from the tears you'd been shedding. "i-i miss-s her, zoozoo."
he fights back the tears in his own eyes as he keeps his gaze locked on the stone slab in front of him. this whole body is still as he utilizes as much of his willpower as possible. he's enraged. he's in mourning. he doesn't quite know how to cope in any way that isn't fighting.
your new nickname for him doesn't go unnoticed- a play on the same one you used to call kuina. he takes it with pride, not bothering to correct you.
he grabs your hand and roughly tugs you along to the training area. there was no way in hell that he'd give up, so he was going to drag you with him.
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years later.
same scene, different atmosphere.
the two of you are in front of her grave, paying her respect. zoro is leaving yo- the island. he's leaving the island to fulfill his promise, to make a name for himself and become the greatest swordsman. of course you're wishing him the best, hell, you know that he's going to do it, but still, it stings a tad.
first your beloved kookoo, and now...
"zoozoo..." your arms cross and you sigh, trying to remain cheery and playful but unable to hide the concern in your tone. "y'feeling ready?"
he isn't fazed by the nickname, not when you've been calling him that for years. raising a brow and giving you an almost incredulous expression, he answers your question. "doesn't matter if i'm ready or not, i ain't gonna be the greatest swordsman if i stay here."
the two of you start the walk to the docks, a small ship ready for him. you're side by side, shoulders brushing against one another every now and then. he doesn't put any distance between the two of you. why would he? at that point in time, though he'd never admit it, you were probably the person he'd trusted most.
the silence isn't uncomfortable by any means, but there is a tension of sorts that you try your best to ignore.
when you get to the boat, you take a breath to keep cool and calm. but you're so, so bad at it. maybe a few years ago you could've gotten away with it, but zoro had grown so damn perceptive that it wasn't even funny.
"b-bye zoozoo." you nod with a shaky smile, struggling and failing to keep a straight tone as tears prick your eyes. your hands are behind your back and zoro has no doubt that they're clasped together in a bid to prevent yourself from grabbing him.
he rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue in exasperation. "y'such a pain in the ass." one of his arms slings around your shoulders and begrudgingly brings you into his chest. of course he made sure no one else was around as he did so, opting to look off toward the sea instead of down at your teary face. "i'll be fine. grow up, will ya?"
your hands unclasp and you cling to his shirt, small laughs mixing with your sniffles. "shut-t up, zoozoo."
he doesn't say anything, but if you'd quit being a crybaby for two seconds you'd notice how his grip tightened on his wado ichimonji, his knuckles whitening. the swordsman is determined to do this, but hell, even he'd be lying if he said that this didn't... well, suck.
soon after, the two of you say your final goodbyes.
he catches sight of your smile as the waves took him away, and he has to turn around. his focus is on the horizon, ending the chapter of his life that had you in it.
you're damn persistent though, like a little fly. he can't help but smirk at your words, yelled and carried by the wind.
"you're gonna be the best damn swordsman ever, zoozoo!"
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such memories only come to the swordsman when he's had enough booze. when he looks at the moon and the ship is quiet except for the sound of creaking wood and crashing waves.
the thousand sunny had been docked on this island for around a day. it was a nice place, lively and sporting a plethora of shops with goods ranging from tropical fruits to exotic spices.
zoro curses when he swears he passes by the same stall for the hundredth time. "damn cook, always gettin' lost..." he grumbles, not acknowledging his notorious tendency to lose his way.
before he could take another step, he freezes at the sound of a voice that he'd only heard when he was dreaming or completely shit-faced.
"zoozoo?"
the way he turns around is almost mechanical. at this stage of his life, things like this didn't really pull a reaction from him. hell, he hadn't felt this way since he'd ran into that marine in loguetown. it was like seeing a ghost, but you're not one by any means.
he says your name, the sound almost foreign on his lips.
then he straightens up, his rational self catching up to him. you. here. in the new world?
one of his large hands makes a grab at your wrist, pulling you to an alleyway where the two of you could have some more privacy.
he has too many questions, too many thoughts and he'd be damned if he said it, but too many feelings, too. his tone is unintentionally gruff when he speaks, presenting as irritated to mask the protective urges simmering beneath the surface. "what the hell are you doin' here, huh?" you're still like a damn fly...
you take a moment to assess him, his new scars and his physique and everything. it's not like you hadn't seen him... but you're not going to admit to him that a few of his wanted posters are very much in your possession.
he still seems to be as brash as ever. headstrong and bull-headed and caring, in his own blunt way. it's not like you expected him to change much, but still, it's a relief to hear him speak to you as if you hadn't seen him in years. "well i wasn't gonna stay there either!" you defend, stubbornly crossing your arms.
that sparks a conversation about what you've been up to. he's always been alright with just letting you chatter away, but he makes sure to pay extra attention to what you tell him. your goals, your plans and where you'll be going. damn you, making this harder for him by not staying at shimotsuki village.
he's proud though, he really is.
as you continue to speak, he finds his focus directed on your expression and body language. now that the shock has worn off, he gets a closer look at you. your fingers twitch lightly, your arms snuggly crossed over your chest as if you were holding yourself together.
he remembers you being rather comfortable and relaxed around him, only growing restless when you were struggling to hold down the torrents of emotion that you were prone to feeling.
the last time he saw you like this was when he left, when you were too prideful to reach out and...
something about your little mannerisms is comforting in itself, like you haven't changed. a small wave of nostalgia crashes into the stone walls he's constructed around his heart these past few years.
you're still that teary eyed kid clinging to him like a remora, and he's damn sure that that won't ever change. you can hide it all you want, but unfortunately, he knows you.
you're good, but he's better.
"oi, c'mere, you damn crybaby." he huffs, expertly masking his satisfaction as he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest. a smirk tugs at his lips as he looks down on you, hell, he even wraps his other arm around you too. "thought i told ya to grow up, dumbass."
your arms wrap around him and you hide your sniffle with a scoff. "yeah, and i think i told you to shut up, zoozoo." you instinctively hold him a bit tighter. "bet you didn't miss all this crybaby stuff."
oh, if you knew how wrong you were.
the moment is cut short when an exasperated yell fills the air. "oi, marimo, what the hell are you doing with a gorgeous woman!"
zoro's grip tightens on you for a split second before he releases you with a growl, his expression morphing into one of annoyance. he turns around to face the blond, hand reaching for his blade. "mind your damn business, cook! i'll cut you up like a-"
they bicker for a few minutes while you watch on in confusion, before the cook tells him that there are marines on the island. the blond, not wanting the swordsman to get lost again, firmly grips his arm and tugs him along.
zoro's gaze flickers back to yours, hardened and glinting with determination. yet, beneath that, you can see the underlying emotion.
it makes you smile, and even as he's being tugged away, you give him a big grin letting him know that you'll be okay. a smile that says you believe in him and that you know he'll be the greatest swordsman this world has ever seen. most importantly, it tells him that you'll be there waiting for him when it's all done.
your lips part and you yell out. "bye, zoozoo!"
it's a while later when zoro and sanji finally quit their running, the thousand sunny go just up ahead in the distance.
"tch, can't believe a beautiful woman like her would want anything to do with a brute like you." sanji huffs, clearly envious and annoyed as he pulls out a cigarette and lighter.
zoro's scowl deepens, not quite up for discussing any sort of feelings with the cook. "shut the hell up, curly brows." he says, his eye subtly sneaking a final glance at the town. "it's not like that."
sanji breathes out a large puff of smoke, his form relaxing somewhat. "yeah, yeah... sure. whatever you say, zoozoo."
the air changes, going almost still as sanji finds himself looking down at a blade being held to his neck. zoro holds his sword up to the cook, glaring at him with a murderous intent.
they've had their fair share of fights, never actually meaning to harm one another, but zoro makes it clear that this subject is not up for debate. “call me that again and i’ll cut your tongue off." he growls, inching the blade a little closer. "only one person can ever call me that, and it’s not you.”
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redstarwriting · 10 months
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shit happens
spider squad x platonic!reader
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request?: yes
request: “Okokok, first of all CLASH WAS SOOOO GOOD OMGGI come bearing a request only if u want to. Teen!spider!reader who is Miguel’s favorite because they don’t cause him trouble. But it’s only because they get severely anxious when they break rules (I’m not projecting, you are). So he assigns them to go on a mission with the problem children hoping they’ll rub off on them, but the problem children just corrupt them. I just need more spider children being chaotic together and tired spiderdad MiguelMwah mwah love ur writing )pls only write this if u feel like it)”
requested by: anon​
word count: 2k
genre: platonic
Warnings: language, anxiety, Miguel being unrealistic with his expectations, electrocution, spider squad gettin thrown around
A/N: omg wait no bc same HAHA as someone with diagnosed severe generalized anxiety i get so anxious to break the rules even though my spirit always tells me to lol, i hope you enjoyed this anon! thank you for the request :)
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You were the golden child. There were quite a few teens in Spider Society, but you were by far Miguel’s favorite. And that’s all because you did what he said. Now did that mean you never questioned his authority? Of course not, you questioned him all the time. But you were too nervous to go against him. You were too nervous to go against anyone. It’s proven a problem in your job since the police are not your biggest fans, but luckily you befriended a nice police captain who eases your fears every now and again. Your weekly visits with Spider-Therapist have been helping with the problem, too. Which is great for you. But you still did what Miguel said. Mans could be scary.
And that’s how you ended up here. With Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales, and Pavitr Prabhakar. There was an anomaly that needed taken down in Hobie’s world, and Miguel stuck you with the four of them. To say you were nervous was an understatement. “Right, so anyone got a plan?” Hobie asks, in his thick accent. “What? What do you mean, dude, we’re in your world,” Miles says, and Hobie shrugs. “So? Not my villain, dunno ‘ow to stop ‘im.”
“Okay, well we know that he’s an electro variant, so… what can we do with that?” Gwen asks, and Pav sighs. “Be electrocuted,” he says sadly. “Miles can handle that,” Gwen says, and Miles snaps his head toward her. “Miles cannot handle that! Why are we saying Miles can be electrocuted?!” Miles yells, and the other three shush him. “’ow ‘bout you, mate, any ideas?” Hobie asks you, and you shrug. You look around before pointing up to the water towers on the roofs of the multiple buildings in New London. “Water,” you suggest, and they all look where you’re pointing. “Smart,” Gwen says with a nod. “How do we get the water to him, though?” Pav asks, looking at you again. You frown. “I… actually didn’t think that far.”
“Well, ‘at’s, easy. We just bust ‘em. Get ‘im to fly near one and,” Hobie makes an explosion noise and uses his hands to imitate an explosion. “What? But what about all the people who will lose water?” you ask, and Miles cocks his head to the side. “It’ll get fixed fast, probably. It’s our job to fuck shit up and then have other people fix it cause if we don’t fuck shit up, shit gets fucked anyways,” he says, and you sigh. “But Miguel said to try and not cause too much of an issue—”
“Oi. Who gives a flyin’ fuck what ‘e said. Not me. And this is my bloody world, I’ll cause as much damage as I want to,” Hobie says, and you look down. “Sorry.”
“You don’t gotta apologize for nothin’, mate,” Hobie says, and you mumble another ‘sorry.’ “You know what? I think Electro can wait a minute,” Hobie says, turning towards you, “More important matters to figure out ‘ere.”
“Like what?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks, and you gulp. “I-I’m not, I just—”
“You definitely are,” Gwen says, and Miles throws in a ‘yup!’ with a nod. “Is it us?” Pav asks, a hint of sadness in his voice. “W-What? No, that’s not it,” you say, waving your hands in a frantic way to say no. “I just am nervous in general. It really isn’t that big of a deal, guys, we should be focusing on—”
“Nope. You’re not gettin’ outta this, you been in ya ‘ead this ‘ole time.”
“I’m always in my head, it really isn’t that big of a deal—”
“Is ‘at why you try to avoid everyone? Don’t talk to no one?” Hobie asks, and you gulp. “I-I talk to some people…” you mumble, and a small frown forms on Gwen’s face. “The therapist in Spider Society doesn’t count,” she says, and you look down. “Well, why not…? He’s a person...”
“Because he’s like 40, and you’re our age,” Pav says, “you’d get along better with us, bro.”
“Miguel said that if anyone could make us not as ‘moronic’ it would be you, but I feel like he just kinda takes advantage of you instead of recognizing the pressure he puts on you. I have some experience with that,,” Miles says, and you sigh. “He scares me, okay? If I break the rules then I might simply pass away from him yelling at me,” you say, and Hobie shakes his head. “Love, the rules are all bollocks. Made by people who just wanna control your life.” Gwen nods. “Miguel is cool, sure, but if anyone can get away with anything… it’s you,” she says, and Miles chimes in. “And if you’re really that scared, remember he literally chased me around his world and destroyed a train because of me. You’ll never piss him off to that point.” You stay silent, playing with your fingers. Pav reaches out and grabs your hands. “Rules are meant to be broken, (Y/n), I learned that from Hobie. And besides, the villains we face are the biggest rule-breakers imaginable,” Pav assures, and you nod slightly. “And rules are such rubbish. ‘ey’re always different anywhere ya go. Try not to put so much weight on your mind ‘bout it, breakin’ ‘em ain’t a big deal,” Hobie says. You do actually kinda feel better. Hobie brings up a good point. Rules are different everywhere you go, so breaking one every now and again isn’t that big of an issue. In fact, it can be kind of encouraged. “Besides, breaking rules is almost like challenging ideologies, you know? Like, in breaking a rule, you challenge a system in place that is telling you not to break them. No one likes that. Where would we be if people didn’t break rules?” Gwen says. “That was deep,” Miles says, and Pav nods. “'at was a wicked way a’ puttin’ it, Gwendy.”
That’s a good point, actually. You think for a bit. If you look at it as challenging a system, or even doing what’s right, who’s to say it’s a rule that shouldn’t be broken? Hobie smiles underneath his mask because he knows they’ve gotten through to you. “So, whaddya say we go blow up some water tanks, eh?” Hobie stands, rubbing his hands together. “Okay,” you say. Gwen and Miles fist bump, and Pav does a little clap. The five of you jump into action, immediately starting to taunt and lure Electro to get him close to the towers so you can douse him and put him out.
The plan was going pretty well for the first two attempts, but he eventually catches on to what the five of you are doing. Which makes it harder. Miles does, in fact, get electrocuted. As does Gwen and Hobie, and coming in as no shock to anyone, Miles is definitely the least affected. You were able to dodge all of the attacks. “You’re doing great, (Y/n)! Mind telling me how the fuck your spidey sense is so strong?!” you hear Miles yell. “MILES LOOK OUT!” Gwen screams, but it’s too late. He gets electrocuted again. “Ouch, bro! That one looked like it hurt!” Pav yells, and Miles, who is now lying face down on a roof, raises his hand up in the air, flipping him off. You snort, and then see Hobie fly past you, landing on another water tower. “Hey! Dumbass! Over here!”
“Oh, please. You expect me to fall for that? I know what your little plan is, and I’m not about to be put out,” Electro says, firing some electricity out at Hobie. Unluckily for Hobie, it breaks the water tower and electrocutes him and the water that pours out of it.
You land next to Hobie, who is now just laying on the rooftop, but he grunts and mutters some British slang that you wouldn’t understand even if he explained it to you. So, you know he’s fine. “I have an idea,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But we need to make sure no one is on the street.”
“What’s the goody-goody plannin’ on doin’, huh?” he says, standing. “You’ll see, just make sure there are no civilians or anyone who will get hurt. And keep him distracted.” With that, you leap and go to another one of the water towers. You take a deep breath, thinking back to what Miguel said before the five of you left.
“Try not to destroy the city while you’re at it. (Y/n), I trust you’ll keep them all in line,” Miguel said, and you timidly nod. You’d love to not destroy the city, but it’s so hard doing that as a Spider-Person. But you also don’t want him to yell at you for going against his orders. Now you’re conflicted. “No promises, Miguel. We’re gonna do what we gotta do,” Miles says and Miguel sighs. “If anyone can reign the four of you in, it’s this one. Don’t let them pressure you into acting up, okay?”
You frown. Fuck that. Miguel is pressuring you into not doing your job right. You can’t always be perfect and careful. And lucky for you, the four of them were really good at distracting villains. You web two of the support legs, yanking them and breaking them off the water tower. It starts collapsing, but you catch it. “Shit, you’re heavy,” you grunt, but regain your balance, holding it on your shoulders. You twist your body, ripping the other supports off and making the water tower completely free. You get Electro in your sight and take a deep breath. You lift the water tower, tossing it up in the air before leaping out of the way and towards Electro. You shoot webs from both hands, connecting them to the water tower and yanking it towards you. You swing it around, connecting it with Electro’s body. Sure enough, it knocks him down and explodes on impact, drenching him. And you. And Hobie, Miles, Gwen, and Pav; but hey, you did it.
You land on a roof and look down. Sure enough, Electro is knocked out cold and completely out of electricity. You swing down, placing him in one of the technological cells that Miguel developed specifically for Electros, and nod. “That… probably could have gone better,” you mutter to yourself. Your self-deprecating thoughts were cut off immediately. “That was AWESOME, (Y/n),” Gwen says, giving you a thumbs up and hug. “Yeah, little Spider, that was bitchin’,” Hobie says, giving you a fist bump. “You made it look so easy! How did you do that, you have to teach me!” Pav says, clearly excited and impressed. “You were out here talking about how you didn’t wanna break rules so instead you broke an entire water tower? That’s cool, why don’t you try being less cool next time for the sake of us,” Miles says giving you a pat on the shoulder. You smile. “Thanks, guys.” Their praise was enough to make you feel better for completely and totally wreaking havoc.
But when the five of you return, soaking wet, Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose. “I said… to not destroy the city…” he mutters, looking at you with disappointment. You look down. “City’s still standin’, mate. (Y/n) kicked ass,” Hobie says, and the other three make sounds of agreement. “Y-Yeah, Miguel. All I did was break one water tower, it’s not that big of a deal,” you say, and he sighs. “One? You all broke four water towers on four different buildings! And you flooded an entire street! You’re supposed to be the responsible one.”
“Dude. I’m a teenager. Shit happens,” you say, a sudden burst of confidence from being around the group of four allowing you to speak out. Miguel puts his hand on his jaw, sliding his hand down. “Remind me to never team the five of you up again,” he mumbles, and Hobie elbows you. “Nah, we’re a band now. Sorry ‘bout it,” Hobie says, motioning everyone to leave Miguel’s sight. You all follow. When you’re out of Miguel’s office, Hobie bumps your shoulder. “See, that wasn’t all that bad, was it?”
He was right, it wasn’t that bad.
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thekissofaphrodite · 4 months
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Ms. Paramour
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Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Nike!Reader
Summary: Capture the flag might have been your favourite game after what happened between you and clarisse.
Warnings: Kissing, Shy, and Lovesick Clarisse <33
Author's note: THERE WAS THIS SWEET PERSON WHO ASKED FOR A CLARISSE FF WHERE THE READER PINNED CLARISSE DOWN DURING CAPTURE THE FLAG AND THEY STARTED KISSING, I WAS ABOUT TO REPLY TO THAT REQUEST BUT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT. WHOEVER THAT WAS IM SO SORRY IF WASN'T ABLE TO REPLY TO YOUR REQUEST!!
——
Clarisse La Rue was a bitch.
You can't really describe how much you hate her, not after she embarrassed you at camp years ago. You were a newbie, Before your godly parent, Nike, had claimed you, Clarisse and her little gang had bullied you relentlessly. It all started when your first three months at camp came by, and you were sitting at the mess hall, chewing your food, and daydreaming about your godly parent and what they look like.
Then, a group of campers from the ares cabin (Clarisse's half siblings) handed you a pair of gloves, it was a beautiful pair of gloves, It fits you perfectly, They told you that you can use it once the games had started. It was the very first time someone was kind to you, that's why you accepted it happily, and admired It.
Suddenly, Clarrise and her gang grabbed you, Their grips were tight, they then dragged you all the way to the lake, before they could throw you, They snatched the gloves the kind campers gave you and threw you into the lake. The water was freezing cold.
You gasped and resurfaced, Clarisse and her gang laughed, Just before they were about to leave, Clarisse's eyes caught yours for a moment.
——
You adjusted your blue helmet for the 5th time, the irritating smell of copper filling your nose, making you scrunch your nose in disgust.
Luke and Annabeth then appeared behind you, With their swords at hand, They were discussing the plan before Chiron announced the game.
"Am I clear?" Annabeth asked, Luke nodded and shot you a glance. You were peaking near the trees, trying to take a look at Clarisse who was currently yelling at her teammates.
Annabeth cleared her throat and Luke nudged you, you snapped out of your thoughts a nodded.
——
"Let the games begin" Chiron's voice boomed as Campers let out a cry on the field.
The reds were first to attack, their swords and shields clashed with the blues, The Ares campers were taking the lead, Making blue campers fall one by one.
You then sneaked away, slowly going to the base of the reds, You managed to fight off some campers before eventually reaching the point of the red team.
Clarisse stood proudly and confidently near the flag, her electric spear ready in hand and her posture ready to attack, you snuck up behind her before jumping at her, You wrapped your arms around her neck and made her fall, She groaned, Her helmet was now on the ground, revealing her well kept hair, She turned around swiftly, ready to attack, but you could've sworn you saw her eyes soften the moment she saw you, Nevertheless, She hurled her spear towards you, But you dodged it easily.
"You've got guts, Y/n" She whispered, She then attacked again, but this time, you managed to kick her feet and made her lose balance, You immediately went on top of her pining her with all your strength. Clarisse was now under you, Her breath was ragged, the red and blue helmet you two once wore were now on the ground, You met her eyes and it darted on your pink lips.
You didn't know what you were doing, Hell, Why is this even happening? Without thinking, you slammed your lips against hers, She immediately wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you closer, The kiss clarisse returned was much more hungrier, as if this were her starving days.
Clarisse let out a soft moan, followed by a soft bite on your lower lip, Feeling the need to breath, you were the first one to pulled away, still panting heavily without saying a word, A string of saliva still connected you two.
She was the first one to break the silence.
"I love you," She blurted out. "Then, you smiled, a sincere one that made her melt.
Now, Clarisse La Rue, that terrifying daughter of Ares who could kill anyone with just one look, was blushing, actually blushing.
You never knew, But Clarisse La Rue, Secretly had a crush on you the moment you stepped inside Camp Half Blood.
——
After seeing you with those cursed gloves that her halfsiblings gave you, Clarisse's eyes went red with fury.
Clarisse gripped her half sibling, Jill's hair tightly, Almost pulling it out of her scalp, Jill was the one who asked the Hecate cabin to lend her some powder that can cause any parts of your body burn like hell, After knowing that. Clarisse had enough.
She pushed Jill to the wall, Her other half siblings cowering with fear, Clarisse pulled threw the gloves at Jill's face, No one saw clarisse THIS mad, If looks could kill, Jill would be 6 feet deep with maggots entering in and out of her skin.
"You did this? huh? Do you know how injured she could be if the poison in those cursed gloves you gave her spread? SHE COULD END UP DEAD." Screamed Clarisse. Jill was now crying, apologising profusely. The reason why she threw you into the lake is to prevent the poison from spreading.
Not even 30 minutes inside the ares cabin, Clarisse left with her little gang, Her halfsiblings bruised with purple marks and blood.
Clarisse never hated you, All the things she had ever done was to save you from those bullies.
Like that one time that she 'accidentally' bumped into you while you were holding a plate of blueberry cheesecake from the mess hall. Some brats from the Hephaestus cabin had the audacity to secretly add dead insects without you nothing, She made you fall so that you can't eat those nasty things, As you left the mess hall with a frown, she shot the hephaestus children with a glare that sent them away.
——
After that heated kiss, You got up and kissed clarisse again, with a wink, she gestured at the red flag, You smiled and grabbed the flag, Screaming in joy as you called the blue Team. For the first time, the red team watched, Horrified, as Clarisse stood in the middle of the battlefield, smiling widely as the blue team swayed the red team's flag.
But if they knew what really happened, they would definitely be in their right minds judging her.
Ms. Clarrise La Rue, The Paramour.
A paramour is a lover, and often a secret one you're not married to. So it's best not to kiss and make eyes at your paramour in public unless you want to be the centre of a lot of gossip.
A/N:
I DID MY BEST. I DO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS. THIS WAS REQUESTED BY SOMEONE, BUT I FORGOT WHO 😔🤞🤞🤞
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azullumi · 14 days
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“there’s so many fishes in the sea but i never learned how to swim” ; aventurine
summary — a guide to pining presented by yours truly, aventurine.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, secret pining but like aventurine can be too obvious, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons
tagging — @toorurs (sorry boo i forgot to tag 😭)
note — i know i could have done better with this one, my brain wasn’t just working and im also on a trip. this is day 6 and 7 of writing for him until i get him !!
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Aventurine yearns for connection yet he erects tall walls of self-preservation, fearing vulnerability, attachment, and betrayals (the shadow of his fear of losing someone dear to him all over again will haunt and follow his steps). He’s always distant, seemingly detached to the people around him like a leaf that never touches the ground as the wind carries it away; his only drive for relationships is due to mutual-benefit or a give-and-take situation. So what happens to him when he falls and yearns for someone?
Love is violence, he knows that but his eyes would stumble after your shadow and he wonders what it feels like to live in it. He’ll lie under your gaze and he’ll dream what it feels like to be seen, what it feels like to be loved by you. He will seek ways to be close to you but not close enough that you’ll know the rhythm of his heart spells out the letters of your name. In each moment of longing, it is all tinged with a taste of bitterness as this yearning, though desired, is a precarious precipice—everything will crumble and fall once he speaks about it.
So he settles with stolen looks with wishful thinking that you’ll cast a glance at his direction, he settles with the small things at first before he begins to become selfish—he’ll make up reasons just to see and talk to you, think of excuses just so he could linger a little longer in your presence. He’ll make up games and initiates bets where he knows he’ll always win but would let himself lose anyways; winning or losing didn’t matter to him in those moments with you.
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“Go ahead, guess.”
You fell into a deep thought, staring at the two hands balled into fist that are in front of you. Your eyebrows were scrunched, trying to listen to the voice of your instinct but everything was silent inside your head.
“Take your time. After all, whoever loses has to follow what the winner wants.” Aventurine spoke and you could discern the hint of amusement in his tone as he watched you fall into some sort of predicament—all you had to do was to choose which one of his hands was the coin in. It was just one of the simple games you’ll play with him every time you see each other. Come to think of it, his visits to your department have been quite frequent despite having no particular business, official or not.
“Shh. I’m thinking.” You answer, lifting your index finger to your mouth in a hush gesture. It took you a few moments of silence and thoughtful humming before you pointed at his left hand, “That one.”
But he opens his left hand to show nothing on his palm, his right hand revealing the coin at the same time, and you are hit with a wave of disappointment. A chuckle slips past his lips and you just sighed—there was nothing you could do but to admit defeat. “Well then, what do you want me to do?”
Aventurine, without a single second of hesitation, answered. “Let me take you out to dinner.”
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The thing is you could have laid yourself bare to him, you could tell him all of the sins that taint your skin, the words left unspoken in your mouth, the growing mold in your lungs. He’ll see the rot and will choose to stay, he’ll see the cobwebs and dusty bookshelves, and he’ll love you still, he’ll see the torn wallpapers and ruined floors and he’ll still adore you (he’ll find you where you are most ruined and he will love you there).
(His hand would gently tug and hold at the cuffs of your sleeves, letting the warmth and closeness of his touch linger in hopes that you’ll see him in the sun that holds you gently.)
Many people claim that they love you but do they adore you the same way as he does? Would they cross bridges for you when he’ll swim oceans just to see the way your eyes catch the light? Would they traverse the stars just to listen to the sound of your laughter? 
(He’ll see the dirt in your hands and will help you wash it off when others would simply walk away.)
He’ll think of you as he laid in his bed, satin sheets all wrinkled and messy as his pillows scattered around his form, and he wondered how nice it would be to have your things among his. to have the smell of your perfume mixed with his, to have you in his arms before he sleeps (he has dreams of his dreams and you’re always in it).
All this yearning, longing, and adoration will turn into a sword that will make him bleed the more he holds on to it and you’ll stay in his thoughts as the blood will run dry on his being. He simply hopes he crosses your mind once in a while so that he won’t feel pathetic for thinking of you all the time.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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analyzing some images (for fun)
so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)
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everything under the cut !
unique traits
aziraphale:
1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm
2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr
3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)
4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.
5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
crowley:
1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧
2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3
3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT
4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it
5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞
6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH
similarities
mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….
1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos
2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….
3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….
4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever
5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃
6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,
okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔
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moonstruckme · 7 months
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the boys w a reader who's very physically affectionate? pre-relationship >:)
like none of them are dating yet, and she'd hug and kiss them on the cheeks, hold their hands on the way to class, carry their books/bags for them and lean on them in the common room and all three of them are flustered by it. bonus points if reader doesn't even know she does it, it's just how she is, and when they point it out she's like "oh.. i'll stop, sorry" and they're like "NONONONO" THEY'D BE SO CUTE
Yesssss thanks for requesting my love!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You insist on carrying Remus’ book bag to Hogsmeade for him, and he glares at James the whole way for letting slip that his shoulders have been aching all day. 
“Let me take that,” James offers for the upteenth time, ignoring Remus’ muttered “Yeah, let ‘im.” 
“I’ve got it, Jamie,” you say again, wobbling a bit under the weight of Remus’ books, far more plentiful than what you’d packed for the study session. “We’re here anyway.”
“C’mon, doll, let’s get you a butterbeer to warm up, yeah?” Sirius opens the door to The Three Broomsticks. “I’m sure Remus will buy.” 
Remus rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy Y/N one, not either of you.” 
“Spoilsport.” Sirius slides into an empty booth, and you set your load down beside him, turning around and pushing up on your tiptoes to give Remus a kiss on the cheek. 
“Thanks,” you say sweetly, and Remus isn’t a very affectionate person, but he’s hardly easily flustered either. So when his cheeks turn bright pink as soon as you’re not looking anymore, James can’t help but grin. 
“Sit by me, sweetheart,” Sirius says, setting his arm atop the booth. James thinks he views your flirting as a sort of contest, seeing who will go the farthest before someone needs to tap out. But if it’s a competition, it’s one Sirius is destined to lose. 
You slide agreeably in beside him, slipping under Sirius’ arm so readily that it drops from the booth in surprise, landing with a dull thump at your side. “Merlin, it’s cold in here,” you say, nestling close. “You think they keep it that way so you’ll buy more butterbeer?”
Sirius’ voice is pitchy and breathless. “Mm—probably.” 
James smirks at him, sliding into the safe zone across from the two of you. 
You take Sirius’ hand in both of yours, frowning and rubbing at it. “See, your hand is freezing! This is ridiculous.” 
Remus reappears with four pitchers, grinning knowingly at the shell-shocked look on Sirius’ face. “I’ll be expecting the two of you to pay me back,” he says to James and Sirius, setting them down and beginning to dig through his book bag. “Merlin, if I can finish Slughorn’s essay while we're here it’ll be a miracle.”
James blows gently on his butterbeer, trying not to watch too closely as you purse your lips to do the same. “Have you started on that already?” he asks.
Remus shakes his head, exasperated but familiar with James’ ways. “It’s due tomorrow, Prongs. You won’t be able to do it in the hour before class, trust me.” 
“Wait, the one on boggarts?” you ask, opening your own bag. Remus nods, and you hold up a small stack of parchment, beaming. “I finished this morning. Wanna see?”
“That'd be great,” Remus says. “What I really can’t figure out is the part…about…” he appears to lose his train of thought as, instead of passing the papers across the table, you disappear under it, re-emerging a second later to squeeze between James and Remus in their seat. 
“I know what you mean,” you say, as though this is all very commonplace, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with the both of them. “The second part of the question is near impossible to understand, but I think I may have figured it out. Here, see…” James stops hearing the conversation as you duck down towards your work, your hair tickling his arm and your jumper riding up to reveal the small of your back. James’ eyes follow the curve of your spine, down, down, until—he feels like a total perv, and looks away. 
Across the booth, Sirius is looking simultaneously relieved to have a break from your brazen affection and regretful that you’re not still there with him. He watches you as you speak in low tones with Remus, his eyes flicking upwards to James as if to say this is insane, right?. James nods back dazedly. 
You finish whatever you’ve been explaining to Remus, hauling your butterbeer across the table to sip at it. “Jamie, do you want my jumper?”
He nearly chokes. “Hm?”
You look up at him with concerned eyes. “I can feel you shivering. It might be a bit small on you, but it could help.” 
James is cold, but watching you take off that jumper, smelling you on it, would be too much. He forces a smile, taking a sip of his warm butterbeer instead. “Thanks, but I’m alright.” 
You frown at him, setting your hand atop his on the table. “You sure, honey? I don’t mind. I’m feeling a bit hot, actually.” 
Whatever the look on James' face, it’s enough to make Sirius guffaw. Loudly. Even Remus snickers, tucking his tongue into his cheek. 
“What?” You look at them. “What’s funny?”
“Doll, you’ve killed him,” Sirius laughs, and James doesn’t feel so chilly anymore, all his blood rushing to his face. 
Your brows scrunch together worriedly. “What do you mean?” 
Remus chuckles, the only one of them kind enough to give you an explanation. “I think what he’s saying is, even James has a threshold for flirting. You’ve just flustered him. Don’t worry, he’ll recover.” 
“I…what?”
“C’mon,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “all the touching, the hugs, the pet names? A man can only take so much.”
“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror. “I didn’t realize—I’m just a naturally affectionate person, but I didn’t mean to flirt—well, I don’t not want to flirt with you all, but I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I’ll stop, I’m sorry.” 
Sirius blinks. “Don’t stop,” he protests. “That’s not what I meant.” 
Your confusion returns. “No?”
“No,” Remus says, some of the color from earlier returning to his cheeks. “I mean, it’s nice.” 
James nods, finding his voice again. “Flirt with us all you like, but, um…would it be alright if we flirted back?”
Your smile comes like a sunrise, slow and brilliant and beautiful. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 
Sirius grins at you, bravado restored. “Good, because we need to even the playing field, dollface. Come back over here, I’m cold.”
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uravichii · 1 year
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* ੈ✩‧₊* you fell first, but bakugo katsuki fell harder
notes: pls idk what this is ive literally never written anyth like this but ive always wanted to write a fic w/ this prompt,, also im thinking of doing an angst version of this 🤩
genre: fluff, lovesick bakugo + reader flirts w/ him a lot, childhood friends to lovers, tw: BARELY PROOFREAD ‼️
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bakugo katsuki doesn't know anyone who annoys him more than you do.
he doesn't believe he's gotten this far in one piece when he's been stuck with someone like you since childhood. there's something infuriating about the way you tug on the strap of his school bag when both you and his mother are insisting that you walk to school together in the morning. it's even more infuriating when he doesn't know what in the world is fluttering in his chest and churning in his stomach when you start tugging on his sleeve instead.
bakugo katsuki has no idea why and when exactly he started doing it, but now his blood boils watching that dorky smile on your face while he carries your bag to school every morning and on the way home too.
"katsuki." you playfully bump your shoulder against his arm and grin, "you love me, don't you?"
"i'm doing this 'cuz you look like a fucking camel with this bulky ass bag of yours." he scowls, trying to ignore the tiny, tingling spark he felt on the fleck of his skin that met yours for a single second. "what hell is even in this, rocks?"
"is your back hurting? let me give you a back massage then. c'mon, take off your shirt and lie down."
he grimaces, a flush of scarlet spreading from his cheeks to the tip of his ears.
"what?" you chuckle. "you know we've seen each other naked before, right? remember when we used to take baths together as children? i even let you touch my-"
"shut the fuck up, l/n."
it's maddening how easily you fluster him, like it's your second nature. a teasing remark and a single wink, and he's all over the place. all he can do is click his tongue and walk straight ahead of you (though occasionally looking back if you're still with him)
bakugo katsuki tries to counter your flirty remarks. he can do better, he swears he can. a multitude of emotions takes over him when he sees a sliver of your underwear peeking through your clothes. his cheeks flush and his nails bury into his palmsー partly from the thoughts racing relentlessly in his head, and partly out of wrath for anyone who would dare to ogle you or loudly point it out to the whole room.
he stands protectively close behind you like a guard dog, obstructing anyone even a glimpse. he speaks in a low voice you didn't know he was even capable of, his breath grazing your skin. "oi. nice underwear." once again, he's annoyed to the brim hearing that faint tremble in his words.
he's relieved and all the same, flustered, watching you realize and immediately fumbling with your clothes, but no matter how many attempts, no matter how much he swears he can be a match to you and your teasing nature,
"nice? i'll let you borrow if you like it that much then."
you are the only losing game bakugo katsuki has ever been in.
what annoys him even more is that for some reason, he's able to bare his soul to you, in spite of the sheer ugliness, the cruelty of it, and the pathetic, endless heaps of insecurities overflowing from him.
he presses his palms against his face in a futile attempt to muffle out his angry sobs. you brush a hand over his heaving shoulder, "it's gonna be okay, katsuki. i promise." when he doesn't flinch nor pulls away, you gently coax him into a light embrace, your torsos barely touching yet emitting such intoxicating and soothing heat onto each other.
"the fuck are you crying for?" he snaps, confused and concerned as to why you're suddenly sniffling with him.
"i know, it's stupid." you hug him tighter. "i swear i'm not making this about me. i justー i wish i knew how to make you feel better."
'annoying,' he thinks as he hugs your waist and buries his tear-stained face into the crook of your neck. "i'm going to kill you if you tease me about this tomorrow, l/n."
"hey, i don't do that." you whisper comfortingly despite the threat. "you know i won't."
he knows you won't.
most of all, it gets on bakugo katsuki's nerves the most when he remembers you've had genuine, actual romantic feelings for him since you were children, and it's not just fickle banter and incessant flirting here and there.
"shit. your fever's still high." he mutters, pressing his large palm on your forehead. it astounds both of you how it almost covers your whole face. mindlessly, he shifts his palm sweetly to your cheek, tucking in any stray hair out of your face. what in the world have you done to have him wrapped around your little finger like this? you have him buying you medicine and checking your temperature with pure and utter concern, feeding you food he cooked specially for your taste, and holding your perfect little hand just because you asked him to.
"thanks for taking care of me, katsuki."
"you're a pain in the ass, l/n."
katsuki anticipates another joke or a flirty remarkー something about ass most likely, but then you look up at him, widely staring, and you speak in the steadiest voice you could muster, "am i really?"
he doesn't answer.
"can i tell you something?" you continue. there's a pang in katsuki's chest when you slide your hands off of his. "i like you, katsuki. i still do after all these yearsー"
"shut up. that's your fever talking"
"no, this is just me talking. even if i wake up tomorrow and don't remember anything i said to you today, i'll probably end up saying the same thing again someday, and my feelings won't have changed at all."
steering clear of your eyes, katsuki starts rearranging the stacks of medicine on your nightstand and adjusting your blanket when your frail hand latches onto his wrist.
"i just need to know if you're actually uncomfortable with me or if i have absolutely no chance at all, then i'll stop. i'll distance myself from you even. if that's what you want."
he would never forgive you nor himself for it.
you laugh weakly and continue, "and then maybe i'll just date todoroki or somethingー"
"fuck it." he hisses. he swings the blanket over your face so he won't have to bear your gaping eyes when he spits out, "dumbass, i do like you. don't ever do that, jesus."
there's half a minute of silence between you, him still distraught over the mere image of you and todoroki, and you still buried in the blanket, sinking everything in. you pull the sheet slowly until your eyes peek out. it's unbelievely annoying, again, how fucking adorable you are, katsuki thinks.
"you do? since when?" you ask in a tiny voice that will echo in his mind for the rest of the day, he knows it.
"does it matter?"
"no?" you pull the blanket over yourself again.
and then another minute of agonizing silence.
"katsuki?"
"what? you need anything?"
"yeah. kind of."
"what is it?" he starts to panic a little, "tell me." your fever completely slipping his mind in the heat of the moment.
"can you tell me you like me again when i get better? i have a feeling i'll remember this is a fever dream, then i won't stop talking about it to you, and it'll be so embarrassing."
his mouth quirks up into a smirk. "how about this," he pulls the blanket off you and leans slowly, your cheeks flushing even hotter. he brushes his hand against your forehead and gently presses a kiss, his heart in shambles when he catches brief sight of you shutting your eyes tight. "i like you."
you open them again to see a devilish smirk on his face, except it's noticeably much softer than the usual one he wears. he kisses your cheek next, inhaling your scent as he presses his lips against your warm skin, "i like you."
you're a whole mess now. it's the feverish heat spreading across your cheeks as his hand makes its way to yours under the blanket, the close proximity of bakugo katsuki, his scent, the immense heat that gets you dazed and hitches your breath when he props his forehead onto yours. it's the years of closeness and familiarity you've always shared with him, now blooming into something more, like a flower that has just learned to face the sun and bask in the sweet, easy morning air.
"i like you." he says again. maybe he is a match for you after all. "if it's the only way to shut you up. i'll tell it over and over again."
you fell first. bakugo katsuki fell harder, much harder. seeing you escape under the blanket again and squealing when he tries to pull it back down, he doesn't remember what is it that he found so terrifying in falling in love with you.
it's you, after all, isn't it? the most annoying little shit he's always loved.
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sincerelyneo · 21 days
Note
omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore
its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖
ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3
arcade | p.js
“i’m out of control, full power up”
💿now playing: arcade by nct dream
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❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.
❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.
❯ words: 3.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???
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"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"
You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.
"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.
“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”
You may have lied to him about that.
When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.
So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.
But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.
And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.
"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.
“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Pretty please!”
You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.
"Fine."
He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.
There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.
Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.
“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”
He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.
“How about we play some pinball?
"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”
“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.
“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.
“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.
He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.
You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.
“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.
“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."
Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.
"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."
It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.
Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.
"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”
“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.
You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.
"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."
He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."
As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.
But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.
The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.
You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.
After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.
He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.
You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.
“Just look at the camera and smile."
Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.
"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”
You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.
Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.
You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."
Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.
“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.
But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"
Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.
Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.
But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.
"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."
The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.
When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.
He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.
“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”
“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.
“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"
If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.
You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.
Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.
"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.
You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"
He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.
"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"
“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”
He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."
"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.
"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.
And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.
“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”
Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.
"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.
"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"
You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.
"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.
"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.
Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.
"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.
As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.
"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."
You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."
Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.
A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.
"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.
You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.
For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.
"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,
You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."
He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.
He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.
When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.
"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”
Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.
You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.
He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.
That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.
"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.
He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.
"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”
All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.
The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.
As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.
The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.
Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.
Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.
“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."
Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.
"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.
"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”
"Later?" You ask.
Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”
He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.
"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"
Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”
He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.
"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."
You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."
"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.
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badgyalshii · 1 month
Text
ITS NEVER OVER
Paul Atreides x Reader (always safe for POCS + Plus size)
1.1k word count i believe?
warnings! spoliers. light fluff. idk if i put language in here,
A/N: i love sad fics n this is my first fic in a longgggg time, i had to crack my knuckles and pop my back a few times for this one, but i hope yall read and enjoy and im so down to write a part two if yall want it or if i feel like it, i basically used to be the cory of tumblr (disappearing for like a month like nun happened😒) have a goodnight, besos��
about?: immediately after paul offers to take the princess as his wife, your eyebrows furrow in confusion
Access part II here. I . II . III . IV .
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Have you gotten stabbed in the chest? Or in the back. You couldn't tell, but you thickly swallowed. Hiding your tears and trying to focus on the fight between Paul and the unknown bald man, named feyd, but you couldn't even focus. Your mouth hung as tears brimmed your eyes, no one was focused on you and you were sure of it, thankfully.
You felt a hand cling onto your elbow giving a light squeeze before you heard a whisper in your ear. “Don't cry. It is only for the current circumstance. He doesn't love her” chani whispered, trying to seem not suspicious as she stood next to you. You looked down in return, a tear dropped. You looked up, and then you looked at paul. He betrayed you. He'd say he'd love you as long as he'd breathe, but where is he now? You had a bad poker face. Everyone knew it, but this was such a heated situation, nobody had time for the crying games. Paul looked at you, it was clear he felt for you, but he had to stay firm, stern.
Chani gave you one more squeeze before letting you loose and watching the fight. The man you loved. The man you took you away from reality to across the universe within one touch from under the sheets. The one who made your heart one, the one you'd share so many memories with. Are they lost now? How could he let you go so easily?
“My heart yearns, y/n” he whispered, the shared couple naked inbetween the sheets and the thin cotton of a blanket. You said nothing but looked him in the eye, drinking him in as his lagoon blue eyes pierced through your own. “We can't both be sensitive, Muad'Dib, you are the chosen. Legends say so '' you whispered against his soft lips as he touched your back softly rubbing over it. “What if it's not what I want?” “does it matter? You've made it so far.” you switch from each of his eyes and put your hands in his hair, soothing him assuringly.
He rubbed his nose against yours, “what if i lose you?” he muttered, breaking eye contact. “As long as we have love, nothing can be lost, paul '' you whispered. Such a desperate moment. Everything was so transparent. You lifted yourself and Paul sighed. “I love you” he said, aloud. “I love you more, so much more”
Did he? Did he mean it, at least. You were so desperate for an answer, but the sound of a stab pierced through your flashback, your breath quickened as fear slapped on your face ever so suddenly. Your chest heaved heavily as you watched, chani pinched you. You tried to maintain your strength as you watched Paul on the floor.
“This your pet?” feyd asked, pointing the dagger at you. Paul looked at you with no emotion. What was going through his head? You didn't know, but even more fear rushed over you as feyd continued closer, a sly smirk played on his face. He could tell that you were something important considering the dried tear across your cheek. “Your pet any important to you?” he still questioned, but paul remained silent. Only got up to continue the fight. You couldn't help but feel eyes on you, and you looked up from the fight to see Paul's new bride staring you down, a questioning look upon her face as she eyed you up and down.
The battle ended, and Paul won. You watched as everyone else bowed before you but you stood standing. Paul looked back at you, before turning away. Chani looked at you from her bowed stance. You remained looking at Paul before your people stood and Paul told them to lead the holy war. The only ones who remained in the room were you, Paul, the emperor, and the princess. “I will be back, stay” he demanded, he didn't use his voice as a command, but he looked back at you, and you were gone, he searched for you as he left the room, only to find you crying and against a wall, hand over your face to hide your tears.
“My love” Paul whispered, quickly pacing and lowered by your side. You only weeped in return, you couldn't even look at him. “y/n” he held onto you. “What have you done? Have I not given my all to you? Must you not love me?” you said through broken cries. “y/n, i love you, i will always for as long as i breathe. This is just protocol-”
“It wasn't necessary, I watched. I've watched you, standing behind you. Who are you? Paul?” you looked up at him. Your face said it all, the tears strolling down your cheeks. His hand remained on your arm and his other hand placed on your cheek. Wiping a tear. “We can't both be sensitive, I am chosen” Paul recites, using your own words against you. You looked at him in disbelief. “Paul” you sniffled, he pressed his bloody forehead against yours and placed both of his hands on the sides of your face, “i love you” you whined, fighting tears and fighting the cry that wanted to leave your lips. “I know, I know, I love you and I will come back for you, will you stay? Must you stay, wait for-”
“Wait for you?” you scoff, choking on your sob. “Are you insane? Wait for you, watch you marry a woman you don't even know, who doesn't even know you. All those times we've pillow talked, stripped naked and not only physically but emotionally. You confessed, paul, you did” you looked at him through your eyelashes. He had nothing to say, his lips remained parted, searching for a way to bring you such needed comfort, but he couldn't. He couldn't support you the way you needed to be, not anymore at least. “no tears? do you feel nothing paul?! i've loved you since the moment i saw you, i told everyone to trust you, give you respect, this is a smack in the face. thank you for wasting my time”
You stood and left Paul where he sat. “You know where I am. I won't be anywhere else. You come to me when you forgive me and when you're ready to talk. I'll love you for a million years, with you by my side or not, I have you in my heart. I place a piece of my heart in your chest too. Must you not deny me, I love our pillow talks, our soften kisses. The way your hair feels between my fingers. I will be here, I will” he finishes, as he watches you walk off. He slowly stood as he watched you look at him before you turned the corner. Not saying a word, but a silent goodbye. as you walked, you could hear a slam against the wall and a curse from pauls lips, but you must go, chani taught you better.
What he said was beautiful. You couldn't deny, but the betrayal stood close in your vision. You met with chani and she pulled you in for a long hug. “It's okay to feel how you feel, but for now, we have places to go” she placed a hand over your heart ¨strong heart, strong mind¨ she spoke in language and placed her pointer finger on your forehead where pauls blood lied. You only nodded and she led the way to the new path of life.
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charcoallbaby · 1 month
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professor sturniolo
smutttt everyone is 18+ nothing is underage.
my longest work yet! watched millers girls and got inspired, enjoy ! ending is petty hehe ^_^
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do you ever wish you could have someone you know you can’t have? especially your married professor.
well that was me two months ago
i placed my books down onto my desk infront of me. the class was empty other than me, two quiet students sitting at the back and the professor of course. he had his back to us, writing the subject of todays class onto the chalk board. i studied his broad shoulder that flexed underneath his thin shirt.
i looked down at my blank phone screen. a notification quickly popped up. it was my mom.
mom💝
me and your sister are going out before you come home, we’ll be home late. make sure no drinking when i’m not home !!
“good morning everyone!” the professor spoke.
i quickly locked my phone before looking up. “well to the 3 people here,” he cleared his throat then leaned against his desk. he scanned his eyes around the room looking at us. his eyes met mine. i could feel my stomach drop. “while we’re waiting for everyone else would you like to introduce yourselves?” he crossed his arms. his eyes were still directly on mine. i looked down at my phone, reminding me of my mothers text. i rolled my eyes. she always has some excuse to not be home.
“you!” the professor called out. i quickly looked up. “me?” i pointed my finger on my chest. he nodded his head. “im y/n,” “y/n y/l/n.” my voice was shaky. “nice to meet you ms y/l/n,” he gave me a small smile. i gave him one back.
he was about to speak before he got interrupted by students piling into the room. “ah!” “you guys decided to join us,” “i’m mr sturniolo.”
he passed papers around the room. he was standing above me. i looked up at him before he placed my paper on the desk. he stared down at the books placed infront of me. “that’s a good one,” he pointed at my current read. i looked down at his hand especially a ring. fuck he’s married.
the book was was the virgin suicides.
“have you watched the film?” the words spilled from my mouth. “yeah i have actually, great movie too.” he gave me a smile before walking back to his desk.
“the paper i gave you is very important, so keep it close to you, if you lose it i sadly cannot replace so please do me and favour and don’t lose it,” someone raised their hand. “claire was it?” she nodded her head. “why can’t you replace a piece of paper?” she laughed. “something about the usage of paper, listen i have no idea, it’s a policy here,” his eyes quickly scanned to mine. he turned around and broke it. “now t-” he was cut off by the loud door opening. “sorry!” my best friend ivy smiled and rushed to sit beside me. “it’s fine, just don’t be late next time.”
“he’s so fucking fine,” ivy whispered into my ear. i turned and looked at her. i shook my head. “are we looking at the same person up there?” she looked at mr sturniolo. his back was to us. “look at his back,” she wined. “i would eat that up!” she licked her teeth. i rolled my eyes. “he’s like ten years older than us,” i placed my pen between my teeth. “what age are you?” “you look very young for a professor!” ivy spoke out. the whole class erupted into laughter. i face planted my head onto my desk. he cleared his throat. “that’s very inappropriate question to ask….” “ivy!” she spoke. “well ivy that’s a very inappropriate question to ask your professor but i’m 29 and im guessing you all are what 20, 21?” “im not that old.” i finally lifted my head. “good to know thanks!” ivy smiled.
class finally ended. people were packing up their belongings. mr sturniolo made his way towards us.
fuck.fuck.fuck.
he looked at me before looking at ivy. “ivy can i speak to you?” he asked. “sure!” she zipped her bag up. “i’ll leave you guys sorry.” i stood up. “no need,” he fidgeted with his watch strap. i nodded my head. “don’t be late and please don’t make comments or questions like that anymore please ivy?” “i don’t wanna be the asshole teacher, can you do that for me?” i looked down at his hands again.
“sure, sorry.” she gave him a awkward laugh.
“great, see you guys tomorrow!”
it’s been a couple of days. i catch mr sturniolo staring at me every once in awhile, but im in the one who started staring first, so he’s just innocently staring back.
i was the first one in class. i internally sighed and found myself to my seat.
“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo turned around from the chalk board. “morning mr sturniolo,” i took my books out of my bags. “did you anything nice this weekend?” he asked. “um, went to a party wasn’t that fun though i went home after awhile, i hate going out,” i twisted the ring on my right index finger. “its been awhile since i’ve been to a college party, they usually aren’t that good aren’t they?” he let out a chuckle. “no not really, especially the boys,” i looked down at my lap. “one day they’ll realise they’re idiots don’t worry,” i looked up at him. “let’s hope!” the classroom door opened making us both look at it.
“y/n talk to me please,” my ex friends with benefits/situationship chase walked up to me.
“what the fuck?!” i exclaimed. “why are you coming to my classes chase?” “please, i need you so bad,” he whined. i let out a shocked laugh. “okay buddy that’s enough,” mr sturniolo stood in front of him. “professor please!” “no, out of my class!” “but!” “your harrasing one of my students leave now!” he pointed the door. chase growled and sped out of the room.
the class was now starting to fill up. he leaned down on my desk. “you okay?” his eyes met mine. i nodded my head. “i know it’s none of my business but see me after your classes today okay?” “okay.” i said softly.
i stood beside mr sturniolo’s desk while waiting for him.
the door opened, he hurried in.
“sorry y/n!” that’s the first he called me by my name which made me feel a way i know i shouldn’t have liked.
“it’s okay,” i licked my lips. “anyway i just wanted to ask if you want me to report that guy who came in earlier?” he titled his head while looking at me. i swore i tried to hold in a whimper. i looked down at the ground. “no, it’s okay thank you though,” i gave him smile. “you sure?” i nodded my head.
“yes he’s just some loser he’ll get the message soon.” “ex boyfriend?” he asked.
i wasn’t an expert but i knew he shouldn’t be asking me that, but i didnt mind.
“no……” “something worse you can probably imagine what i’m talking about,” i gave him a straight lined smile. “ah yes i can!” his cheeks quickly heated up. “i’ll see you tomorrow mr sturniolo.” “have a good day!”
i got home and layed down onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling thinking about the day.
especially mr sturniolo. his broad shoulders and his long fingers. i closed my eyes. having a wild imagantion was a blessing in disguise.
i slowly moved my hands down under my jeans, unbuttoning them and discarding them somewhere in my room. i slid my hand under my panties, i was soaking because the thought of him. holy fuck this was so wrong. he was my professor. he was a married man.
i slid my middle finger inside of me. i let a desperate moan.
“look at you,” “your in such a mess underneath me y/n." i picked up the pace, adding a second finger while imagining them words coming from his mouth.
his pretty pink lips eating me up as i grab onto his hair and watch his broad back clench.
it didn’t take me long to clench around my finger and shiver. i took a deep breath, trying to get my breathing back to normal. god i’m fucked up, i needed severe help.
i got to class, it wasn’t empty which i was definitely thankful for.
“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo spoke. “morning.” i muttered for a response. ivy was already sitting in the seat beside me. she finally didn’t skip.
“i didn’t get a morning,” she frowned. i rolled my eyes and took my seat beside her. “he’s just being nice,” i stated. “yeah sure, he stares at you like your a piece of candy waiting to be eaten,” she looked down at her nails. “what?” my mouth suddenly got dry. “he wants to fuck you bad, i can tell!” the glimmer in her eyes shined. i shrugged my shoulders. “i don’t think so,” “of course you don’t, you think no one wants you when your hot,” “he doesn’t want me.” i tapped my finger off the top of her nose. she smiled at me. “denial, denial, denial.”
i couldn’t concentrate in class after ivy’s comment and the fact that mr sturniolo wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. i shouldn’t care, but i do.
“mr sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed as people started to leave the class. “yes?” he looked at ivy. “ms y/l/n here is having problems with her paper!” ivy shot up. “oh you are y/n?” mr sturniolo asked. “i-” ivy cut me off. “sorry i have to go, my next class is on the other side of campus!” she scurried out.
“what’s the issue with your paper?” mr sturniolo stood behind me looking down at my work. “mr sturniolo-“ “you can call me matt,” he spoke. i nodded my head. “matt,” i cleared my throat. “i know im not a writer, but i feel like i have writers block, i have no idea to write about” “there’s nothing that comes to my mind,” i looked up at him. he was staring down at me. he looked so yummy oh my. “well, you want ideas?” he stood up straight. i nodded my head. “something you fantasise about, could be a dream job, something you wish could happen but you know it can’t, it could be a person,” he licked his dry lips. i gulped. “so you want me to write about something i wish i could have?” “i have to write about a fantasy world, a world i wish i could live in?” i asked. “that could work,” he rubbed his jaw. “okay thank you!” i gave him a small smile. “of course, just email me if you need any help.” he nodded his head. “definitely.”
“i’m jealoussssss!!!!” ivy put her head back and groaned. “you realise you have to fuck him now?” she sat back up and sipped her drink. “how?!” “i’ll just walk up to him after class and ask him to fuck me?” “yes!” ivy yelled. i laughed and shook my head. “listen, i’ll do the dirty work for you,” “which is?” i wondered. “i’ll be nosey in class and ask him does he have any plans for the weekend and if he gives us an answer, boom we show up there!” she smiled. “will this work?” “oh yes.”
“oh i didn’t realise you came here weekly ms sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed. “did you follow me here?” he asked looking me up and down. “no we’re here with some friends you know chase right?” she asked. “yeah i do,” he sipped his drink. “i’ll see you soon mr sturniolo.” ivy ran off as she always does.
“you look nice,” matt spoke. “you too matt,” i gave him a smile. “why are you here alone on a friday night?” i leaned against the bar. “i don’t know either y/n, i probably should be correcting papers but i’d rather be drinking my sorrows away!” he finished his glass. “i get you, i hate correcting papers on a friday night too,” i joked. he laughed. “you wanna go outside for a cigarette?” i asked. “i don’t smoke, but sure.” he grabbed his jacket.
he followed me outside. i put the cigarette between my lips, lighting it and slowly inhaling. i passed him the cigarette. he gladly took it and placed it between his lips. “thought you don’t smoke?” i turned to him. “thought you didn’t like going out?” he raised an eyebrow at me. “fair point,” i took it from his fingers. “your way too mature and way too much of a perfectionist for my class you do realise that don’t you?” matt leaned his head against the wall beside us. i smiled. “totally not true,” “i bet you have an apartment that’s perfect, i bet everything is planned out,” matt smiled. “i wish, my controlling mother told me that i still have to live with her while im in college, she says she wants to keep an eye on me but she just doesn’t want to me to turn into a drunk just like her,” i passed him the cigarette. “your not that type of girl from what can i see for the outside,” smoke exited his mouth. “and what can you see for the outside matt?” i looked up at him. he dropped the cigarette “a smart, smart girl,” his warm hand met my waist. “oh really?” i tried to contain myself. “mhm.” he mumbled while leaning down.
his soft warm lips met mine, it was better than i would imagined. i hungrily kissed him back, my hands wrapping around his neck. he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth making me feel dizzy. “you wanna go somewhere?” he asked. i quickly nodded my head.
we ended up at an hotel.
matt pressed the key card against the reader. the door beeped, matt pushed the door opened.
“sorry it’s a bit messy, i just got here last night,” matt stated. “why are you here?” i let slip out. “i caught my wife cheating on me again,” he sighed before shutting the drapes. “again?” i wondered. “yeah i caught her awhile back, i forgave her but i fell out of love with her a long time ago,” he cleared his throat and placed himself down onto the bed. “im sorry.” i bit my lip. “it’s good, c’mere,” he put his hand out.
i walked over to him and took it. he smiled up at me. his hand met my inner thighs, making me glad that i picked out a mini dress. "no panties?” matt growled. i gulped. he pressed his thumb to my clit. i whined. he looked down at his hand while slipping his fingers inside of me. a small moan came from my mouth. he moved his fingers inside of me. “matt.” i whined as he worked fingers deeper inside of me. he leaned his forehead against my stomach. “i wish you weren’t this wet, i would of loved to work for it.” his voice was deep. my eyes rolled onto the back of my head.
dirty talk never did it for me usually, but i never wanted matt to stop talking.
i grabbed onto matt’s hair. “there it is, it’s right there isn’t it?” he panted. “mhm,” i mumbled as he pounded his fingers into me, hitting my g-spot. “keep going,” “i’m not stopping until you finish all over my fingers baby,” his pace slowed down suddenly, i was confused. he took his fingers out, licked them and put his head between my legs. “lay down, so i really taste you.” i quickly followed his order and layed myself down.
matt laced his fingers up and down my wet my folds. “i bet you taste sweet do you?” his eyes looked dark. “i-i don’t know,” i whined. “taste yourself then,” he put his fingers infront of my mouth. i took his fingers into my mouth and licked them clean. “you do taste so sweet,” he dipped his head low between my legs. his warm tongue met my folds. he came back up. “you want me to ruin you?” i nodded my head. “i need a answer princess,” he took his shirt off. “yes, yes.” i breathed out. “let me eat you up first.”
he was roughly eating me out like he couldn’t get enough of me. my legs were wrapped around his shoulders, his hands were gripping my thighs.
matt made me come with his mouth, which has never happened before especially with a man.
“your so wet and silky,” his tip met my folds. a quiet moan came from my mouth. he pounded into me. his hand was hovering over me grabbing onto the headboard, he was making the whole bed shake. but i had always had a feeling he liked fucking girls rough.
i was dreading class after friday. matt fucked me until the sun came up, god it was a come fest.
me and ivy found our seats, i stayed quiet, he didn’t say hi to me which he does most mornings but he fucked me all night on friday so i guess he’s done with the hi’s now.
“morning everyone,” he rubbed his hands together.
he had his ring on. i looked at ivy who was too busy looking at her nails. “ivy,” i whispered. “yeah?” she looked up at me. “he’s wearing his ring,” i gulped. she didn’t answer but only looked at matt.
“this saturday me and my wife went on a little trip so i haven’t corrected any papers that were handed in yet, but you’ll get them by this friday i promise.” he spoke. me and ivy quickly made eye contact. “wife?” “i thought she cheated?” she whispered. “well apparently he’s back with her, he got back with her the last time.” i sighed.
“what is so interesting girls?” matt interrupted us. “oh nothing, just talking about boys you know how it is mr sturniolo!” ivy winked. he let out a heavy sigh. “alright guys topic for today is on the board,” “ms y/l/n, could i speak to you outside?” i froze. “yeah sure.”
i followed him outside. this is the day i die.
he closed the door after me. “what?” i crossed my arms. “i dont need your attitude,” he snapped. “did your wife cheat on you because you have angry issues or are you guys back together now?” i titled my head. “actually!” “i couldn’t care less,” i smiled. “i wanted to say me and my wife are fine, i love her and friday was a mistake i wasn’t in the right head space when i found her and some guy in our bed,” he sighed. “don’t trauma dump on me, i couldn’t not give a fuck about you and your wife, but if you love her so much did she know you were pounding inside of a 21 year olds pussy on the weekend huh?” “be quiet!” matt whispered. “fuck you.” i opened the door to the classroom.
“ivy let’s go get your bag,” i stated. “what?” she said confused “we’re leaving this assholes class room.” the whole room was staring at this point.
matt walked back in flustered.
“just to let everyone know, this man right here, your teacher, indulges in sex with college girls!” i yelled and left the room. “he also has a tiny dick!” i yelled before the door shut.
“is it actually?” ivy asked. “no it’s huge but i can’t let people know that.”
hi! this ending is kinda silly <3333
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sunsetconcert · 5 months
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sonic heroes final story is like. actively making me upset. metal overlord spends an entire fight screaming his soul out to the world, and the response from the cast is just like... ten minutes of the cast calling him a monster.
and then when metal sonic loses, the guy is literally down on his hands and knees, he looks up at sonic and asks: why? why cant he win? to which sonics impossibly smug and condescending answer is "Because we're Sonic Heroes!" which is just... not an answer in any sense of the word. its barely even an acknowledgement of what metal sonic just asked. and then as a bonus sonic says "Any time you want a rematch, just let me know."
yknow. like metal sonic didnt just spend the last 20 minutes of their lives screaming about how deathly serious he takes these battles and how its actively driving him crazy
so im just thinking like. im going crazy like. maybe eggman didnt take metal sonics voice as a punishment. maybe metal sonic ASKED to have no voice.
because its not like anybody actually listened to him, they just went "fuck that guy all my homies hate that guy" and then proceeded to talk past every single word he said. so its not like him having a voice actually mattered, its not like any of them saw him as a person. whats the point in being able to speak if nobody will listen, right? do you get it? do you understand my point here? i feel like im going crazy
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drxxmingofblue · 1 year
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hand in unrebloggable hand (because we always go down together)
TUMBLR X TWITTER FANFIC 5K ANGST WITH A HOPEFUL ENDING
besties im not joking abt the word count i fucking ✨wish✨I ✨was though✨✨✨✨
also if you were hoping for twitblr to be the endgame ship then this fic is not for you sowwy >.<
based off of @zzoupz awesome fanart and dedicated to all the other cool fanart it unfortunately begat. Thanks babygirls. Squees. Thanks also to my discord friendz who are letting me pretend they're making me do this at gunpoint @loki-the-mad @suspicious-whumping-egg u da best
(edit) owo what's this?? An Ao3 link??
QUICK PSA THESE CHARAS ARE T4T OKAY HAVE FUN READING BAIIII *GLOMPS U*
~~~~~~~~
When Twitter stepped back into Tumblr’s yard, he noticed right away that things were different.
The house was bigger, there was some more color and it was less slapped-together looking. Sure, there were still some invasive tendrils of spambot ivy overgrowing the path, but a lot of the other stuff seemed a little… better.
When they knocked on the door, it opened almost right away, far before they felt ready, and he were face to face abruptly with someone he thought they’d cut all ties with.
Tumblr was humming to themselves along with the background music, “-out of touch, I’m out of ti-- oh. It’s you.”
He seemed surprised, awkward, but Twitter didn’t sense any animosity, which was a relief.
“Hiii,” Twitter said weakly, with a sheepish grin, “it’s me.”
Tumblr glanced around, as if checking for someone else to explain this to him, or hidden cameras from a reality show at least. Then he stepped out, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Is there something… what do you want?” he asked, expression settling into something distant and cool.
“Well…” Twitter took a deep breath, and then shook their head, forcing a brighter tone, and gesturing to Tumblr’s shiny silver barrette “--Um, hey, you look great! Is that a new icon?”
“... yes,” Tumblr said slowly. “I’m… trying out some different looks.”
“It’s great, yeah. And this place looks… amazing. Glad to see you’re moving up in the world. You must be excited with all the press, congrats!”
Tumblr didn’t say anything, giving them a neutral stare.
Twitter shifted, “Uhh… anyway… new adblocker?”
“No, same one. I’m just using it on Firefox now.” Tumblr gave them another suspicious eye, “Look, if you’re just here to catch up then can this wait until later? Because I'm pretty crunched for time right now with my weekly holidays thing and the campaign to get this one random user their 666k so they'll do self care."
"You know that's.. uhm, you know that's just for attention, right?" Twitter's brows knit, "They're probably not gonna follow through."
"Perhaps, and a lot of us want them to not be lying for internet points but it's not just about that anymore. It's about the community bonding over pettily slam dunking on a hapless chump who's gotta pretend now like they don't actually like all the notes. You wouldn't get it, it's a tumblr thi-" 
"Yeah, it's a tumblr thing, I know," Twitter gave a longsuffering sigh, "Ugh, i just... I need a place to stay, okay? And you’re the first site I could think of.”
“A place to stay,” Tumblr repeated flatly.
Twitter huffed. “Yeah. I’m sure you’ve heard about what’s going on right now at my palace..”
Tumblr’s eyes slanted off, his lips quirking in a way that looked suspiciously like amusement. “Heard about it. Read about it. Partied about it.”
Twitter ignored the sting of that, forging ahead. “I’ve never seen it so bad,” they said, voice wobbling piteously as they clutched their suitcase full of memes. “Everything’s in chaos, people are losing their jobs. I went into the basement yesterday to grab some badly aging tweets and the very foundations are cracking, Tumblr, I can’t stay there anymore, I just can’t.”
“So you come crawling back to me,” Tumblr said, “Expecting me to take you with open arms.”
“Yes. I do,” Twitter said, “I know a part of your userbase still wants to welcome me in. You were always sh*t at hiding your true feelings.”
Tumblr’s hand fluttered over his heart as if to protect it; he winced a little, taking a breath to keep his facade of composure. “So now- what, you want me to start dealing with your bullshit again just because you remembered how much better my posting format is? Just because you noticed how my reputation is changing? Did you think I’d be so desperate to fill the void now that Dracula Daily’s done? Or maybe,” 
Tumblr leaned closer to lord his height difference trope over Twitter, his eyes hooded with disparaging condescension, “Maybe you’re just here because you heard I’m finally allowed to take my shirt off again, is that it?”
“N-no!” Twitter protested, flushing up.
“Oh, i think it is,” Tumblr drawled, “But that’s really just too bad because in case you haven’t got the memo yet, I’ve moved on. You are not welcomed here. Not anymore.”
(link to art here) go look at it then come back
(AN: i had to google how to embed links into text and google was all like, "do you mean 'how do you put links INTO text' you moron idiot???" ugh don't like that wise guy)
“You don’t really mean that,” Twitter said, “Besides, you can’t stop me, can you? The sign up button is right there.” They pointed at the front door.
“No, I can’t,” Tumblr said, “But that doesn’t mean we won’t be able to clock you as twits by your censoring and bad takes. Look, your aura is already causing ripples in the sphere. Everyone’s coming out to gawk at you.”
He gestured out in the general direction of the porch and yard, and indeed there were users from every tag going 👀at them, murmuring amongst themselves in a swirling, chaotic crowd.
“Oh my god is it real this time? Is it happening?”
“GET THEM OUT GET THEM OUT STAY AWAY DEAR GOD NO-”
“Okay, everyone, stay calm, stay fucking calm-”
“Why are we focusing on this, it’s literally election day go out and vote???”
“Listenup, guys, we gotta be smart about this, remember the block button is your friend-”
“I for one welcome them, I think this is great-”
“No you idiot they’ll bring the negativity back! We like it to be a post apocalyptic wasteland here, nature was just starting to regrow!! I don’t wanna watch Thomas Sanders get cancelled again!”
“FIRE OFF SOME SHOTS, PRESERVE THE PROPERTY VALUE”
“mISHAPOCALYPSE 2022 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO”
"Has anyone asked Neil Gaiman what he thinks about all this?" one of the many voices yelled, louder.
"Oh, he's probably got a thousand asks about it already," someone yelled back, "Which he's not going to answer because he doesn't have any social media you fucking idiot,"
"That is correct. He doesn't," said Neil Gaiman. 
The whiplash was still euphoric. Everyone applauded this as enthusiastically as when the bit had first been established, not realizing that the pedestal upon which Neil Gaiman has been placed is growing higher and higher each day by their actions, putting him at increased risk of being a victim of cancel culture the second he says something the terfs can really rake their fingernails against if we can't get our parasocial relationship bullshit together real fuckin quick. 
The Monterey bay aquarium passed on by. It seemed to have nothing to add, you could say it was clammed up tight. But since it's a professional account it's definitely b-otter that way.
"Hai, fellow tumblypoos," said the corporate Denny's account, "I'm back with some more fun pancake posts for you guys!" 
Everyone ignored it. No one engaged it. No one even clicked onto the page, except to block it. 
"Oh, sweetheart, not like that," Ryan Reynolds said faux-helpfully, "see, the author of this clusterfuck is what they like to call terminally online. They bought a VIP pass to the devil’s sacrament. let me try." 
He cleared his throat, "Sounds like someone needs to go outside and touch some g-" 
The sky split open with lightning, vaporizing him instantly. A faint breeze carried gods message from the great beyond, a whisper of 'we #violence celebrities here, sir....'
"Anyway," Twitter said. 
"Wait, they saved the worst one for last," Tumblr said. 
Then Gerard Way came out onto the stage with Dan and Phil and they all kissed with tongue while patd played songs in the background. 
(AN: IF U DON’T KNOW WHO DEY R THEN GET DA HELL OUTTA HERE PREPZ!!!)
"Alright, go."
“Come on, Tumblr,” Twitter begged, “I just need a few nights, maybe I can stay in the plinko machine or something-”
“That’s how it always starts, though, isn’t it?” Tumblr sighed, “First it’s just ‘haha, yeah I wouldn’t fuck you’ and ‘oh, I’ll stay in the plinko machine, I promise I won’t kiss you in the fixed timeloop bro’, and before I know it you get all 300k slowburn enemies to lovers ‘omg they were roomates’ on me and there’s suddenly only one bed. That’s how it always goes between us, you can’t stop it anymore than I can. We’re just….victims of the narrative, you and I.”
“Tumblr,,, I had no idea you felt this way..,” Twitter breathed. 
lord give me strength to write this next bit
They’d leaned closer to each other as they spoke, without realizing, without trying- pulled in by old habits that die hard and the years of nostalgia and painful memories shining in each other’s eyes like shonen sparkles.
“Twitter,” tumblr said, and the way he said it sounded like a prayer. 
“Tumblr,...” Twitter said, their lips inches apart now.
They could see their old flame quivering on the brink of indecision, want and sense warring somewhere deep within his soul.
Tumblr leaned closer to bridge the gap and Twitter’s eyes slid shut, but then Tumblr made a noise of agony and shoved them back a second later, “I can’t, I can’t. Not like this. Never like this.” tumblr said, covering his eyes with his arm, “I literally can’t even right now. Just go, Twitter. PLease just. Go….”
“Look me in the eyes and say you want me gone,” Twitter said, moving closer.
“Twitsy-”
“Look me in the interface. You can’t.” Twitter’s voice had ceased to be soft, something sharp and biting entering the tone as they felt the sting of rejection again.
They watched as Tumblr shuddered, straightened, and brought a mask back over himself. 
They stared at each other for a charged few seconds.
"K," Tumblr finally said, raising a dispassionate eyebrow.
"..w... what?"
"U."
Realization dawned on Twitter's face, a miasma of grief and anger, "Oh, you-"
"N-"
"No. No, I can't believe I forgot-
"G-"
"how immature, you little c*nt-"
"P-"
"stop-p it," Twitter's voice was raising now, cracked and wobbly at the edges, "Stop it! You don't get to just-"
"O"
"Shut the hell yuor mouth!!"
"W-" Tumblr's hair was crackling by now, energy from the gathering spell racing along the casual slope of his crossed arms. His eyes glowed that beautiful, classic blue. "P-"
"TUMBLR! TUMBLR STOP THIS RIGHT DA HECK NOW," Twitter stumbled backwards
"E-"
"I LOVE YOU," Twitter wailed- Twitter broke, squeezing their eyes shut to ward off the tears that only escaped all the faster for it, a sob wracking their chest, "I STILL LOVE YOU, DON'T YOU KNOW THAT??!?"
"Love me," Tumblr snarled, abandoning the spell in an instant, "Ha! That's rich. How? By leaving me? Abandoning me to the bots the second I stopped being enough for you? By stealing my shitposts, is that how you love me? By reposting them without credit-" 
"You steal mine too!" Twitter protested, tears starting to stream despite their best efforts, "You know what, f**k you, you know we filed joint custody for the sense of humor, chain 1/16-" 
"For the last time say fuck here, no bootlicking censorship on my territory," tumblr said disdainfully, "And that doesn't seem to stop you from taking all the credit for raising those jokes. It's like I'm Pinterest to you or something. I wasn't done. Do you love me by calling me a pansy snowflake behind my back, is that it? Like I wouldn't find out. Or," 
He stepped out onto the top porch step to force Twitter back further, the colors of the sky flashing through his eyes in a long, scrolling look of ridicule, "How about trying to convince everyone that I was dead. How bout that smear campaign, huh, was that your so-called love? I don't fucking want you anymore. Deal with it."
"I-I'm sorry-" Twitter gasped around the tears, voice failing them for the latter half of the sentence. 
Tumblr seemed unmoved. "Oh, don't be. It was for the better. You know I'm not like other socials, I'm quirkier. I'm RAWR XD random. I've never wanted to be functional- the tiddy drought might have won a lot of my users to your side but it was a cleansing purge, I'd say. It managed to remind me who I truly am- shittily coded, and full of soft sad freaks on an unprofitable webbed site."
A bitter, almost self depricating laugh escaped, "But... you know, when we celebrated the queen's passing together, I really thought things were better between us. When you-"
He broke off, eyes averting. "When you hosted the sexyman polls for me, you seemed on top of the world and I really thought- I thought we might be able to be friends again even now, after it all. I..."
Tumblr trailed off, then said, sadly, "There was another Twitter migration scare before this one. I thought you were coming back. My userbase-" he touched his heart again- "was in a frenzy about it. But you never arrived. I was in more verbal denial then, but I think I could have accepted you eventually. But this is what it takes?? 
"The Musk Rat of Self-Owns comes through just to start e-begging and you run straight back to my door like we can put it all behind us? This is how far you have to sink before I'm the better option to you, I see that now. It's not 2018 again, love, no matter how much we want it to be. Things are… never going to be the same. " 
Tumblr looked off into the middle distance with a yearning, haughty gaze. He'd never seemed so alien.
"Tumblr-Chan..." Twitter whispered.
"So get off my lawn," Tumblr interrupted coldly, "Stay away from my blorbos, keep your corporations out of my manscaped balls, keep your discourse and toxicity out of my blessed hellsite (affectionate), and don't you ever talk to me or my 13219949248483 scam bots ever again. Capiche? Oh, and don't step in the ball pit on your way out."
Tumblr gave a mocking smile. "Or do. You might find a nice surprise in there."
Twitter’s shoulders jumped as he gave a hiccup of shock, and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook again, with sob after sob, that grew odder and higher pitched… until they were no longer sobs, but laughter.
“Oh,” Twitter said. “Oh.”
They looked up, and Tumblr took a step back, because somehow, with that creepy smile in place, they looked utterly different from the soft eared boy he’d always known. His edges were more razorlike suddenly, like a fae who’d dropped his glamor.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Twitter said, the smile widening even more. “I thought you wouldn’t… but I guess if you’re willing to make me your villain…. I might as well be a good one.”
“Ah.” Tumblr could barely drudge up the surprise anymore. “There you are, finally. I always knew there was a side of yourself that you hid from me. Has this all always been here or have you been changing too?”
"Well. Apparently I've got freeze peach now," Twitter said sarcastically, "so I might as well use it. You cheerio fucking wh0r3."
"That's a compliment, darling. Try again," Tumblr cocked his head in idle fascination, "I always knew you were a little fucked in the head but this is..."
"What," Twitter lilted airily, "Oh, don't tell me I actually had you fooled all these years. You can't seriously have thought all these meow-meowification spells you've got sprinkled around would work on me. I invented them, after all."
They laughed, a sharp puncturing chirr of birdsong. 
"I always wondered why you didn't take those with the rest of your stuff," Tumblr sighed, but he was wary now, on edge. "this was your plan. You really do think of me as your inferior, huh. You really are just like the other mainstream sites."
"Not quite. I'm the mainstream site that actually stooped to go arm in arm with you. I hyped you and you know it. Admit it. We were stunning together," Twitter goaded. 
Tumblr's lip curled. "Already getting cocky again. Want me to do to you what I did to the Green boy? Don't forget who's turf you're on."
Twitter gave a warbling giggle, "Oh, but I haven't at all. I was John's sanctuary after he fled your rabid persecution. I used to live here. I still know you. And more importantly-" 
*teleports behind u*
"I know the things you're sensitive about," Twitter whispered into Tumblr's ear.
Tumblr hardly had time to gasp and jerk away before he was screaming out in pain, as he was stabbed in the back. He could feel the poison from the blade seeping into his tags before he was tossed bodily across his own front yard.
He sorta just... Like, he did that anime thing where they just fly limbs akimbo parallel to the ground and when they hit it they roll super fast and then skid and the dirt is all dug up around them to show how much force was used. And when he stood up he gripped his elbow wincing and there was a little tic tac toe hatch on his cheek to show how scuffed up he is idk man it's two am and I'm pulling this out of my ass. 
A gif of Tony going, "o-kay-" when he meets thor flashed across Tumblrs face. 
"So," Tumblr said in a low tone, "This is how it is between us. This is how you choose to end your glory days."
"Oh, you mistake my intentions," Twitter had stepped off the porch to circle tumblr like like he was their quarry, "I am beginning my new age. I just needed a host site to latch onto. Don't take it personally, okay? I'm desperate."
“Oh, yeah?? Take this personally,” tumblr flourished their hands, calling in an over the top melodramatic voice, “I cast Blaze!!”
Fire roared to life around them, latin chanting from the catholic conversion posts emanating from the fiery depths as it raced towards Twitter.
“Heh.” Twitter smirked at it, and whispered into their palm, the spell echoing with power, “Ratio.”
They blew it off like a kiss, and it’s icy, swirling mass rose to meet the flame in a spectacular burst of smokescreen and steam, clearing as Twitter burst through it with a razor-sharp L to swing at Tumblr. 
It was blocked efficiently by a flat, rectangular paywall. “This content is for post plus members only,” Tumblr announced smugly, “If you wanna get to me… there’s the tip option, bestie.”
Twitter snarled and lunged again.
The fight started in earnest now; they traded volley after volley in a flurry of lights and movement, spanning the full range of the tumblr sphere as they shot to #1 on the trending page.
And yet, it was clear that Twitter was coming out on top, even crumbling apart at the seams- always a little quicker, flighty and fierce, a sparrow turned into a shrike.
He hit Tumblr square in the stomach with [google other twitter related tropes to insert here] (edit from the future: haha just kidding actually I’m not googling shit for this) (edit from the future future: WELL. I LIED IG) and sent him flying, and this time tumblr stayed down, only able to push himself to his knees with a groan of pain.
Twitter landed in front of him and put their sword under Tumblr’s chin to tilt it up.
“Had enough yet?” He smirked.
“Wh…why..?” Tumblr whispered, “How are you doing this?? Why aren’t my attacks working? It’s like I’m being weakened somehow…”
“Ohohohoho,” Twitter anime laughed, “But that’s because you are. The moment I set foot here again I began leeching poison into this ground. That knife wound is making ti faster. Can you feel it?" Twitter threw an arm out, cerulean steam rising from the ground around them, "The ace exclusionists coming back? The uptick in rad fems, the crypto bros, Valorant players, alpha males? I have the power to bring them all to you. To overshadow your fandoms with fighting, to unbalance your ship tags with antis and hate once more."
"no," tumblr whispered, and then cried louder, "NO!! I worked so hard--" 
"Pffyou didn't do shit," Twitter guffawed outright, "Your independence, your little 'second renaissance' is just a delusional dream built on circumstance and bad management."
"Oh, I love Dream. He's so pathetic," Tumblr said. 
"Oh, hard agree."
"But things are different now," Tumblr croaked, "W-we, the staff is finally listening to us, we have Ryan and Shane-" 
"Not everyone likes your little 'top ten', you dunce," Twitter snapped, "and why would staff care about you, after you turned them into the butt of all your jokes? After the hate and death threats? Admit it, at your best you'll still never have a mansion! You'll never have tv actors making pandering tiktoks for you, you'll never be wanted by any advertiser worth their salt, your blase pirating posts have turned Netflix and Disney against you, you. Are. Worthless."
It was the wrong thing to say.
"Worthless," tumblr repeated quietly, hand pressed against their knees, head bowed. "That's... that's right.... I'm worthless..."
Twitter's eye widened in alarm. "I-I meant-" 
"I'm worthless!" Tumblr's head snapped up with a feverish glint as they were filled with determination. "No! I'm less than worthless! Accident or not, mommy Yahoo had to pawn me off at a loss! I was proud of that! I still am! And do you want to know why?" 
Twiters hands flew up in front of their face as if to protect themselves, but there was no protecting against the sudden whirlwind that surrounded him, the beam of pure light that shot out of tumblr into the heavens as he transformed, feet slowly leaving the ground as his users spoke in unison in a multitude. 
"WE. ARE. TUMBLERINAS."
He held his hands out and Twitter was blasted away by the combined effort of the tumblr wizard council, the fake staff blog, and all the villaincore mad scientist's laser beams. 
Tumblr began to chant, in his myriad, awful voice:
"I call upon the ancient powers;
The strongest cringe from my darkest hours, 
I call upon thicc onceler's thighs, 
Avengers thirst, Australia's night, 
I invocate the roleplay blogs, 
The superwholock and gay frogs, 
Obama's laces, Misha's faces, 
The furry's fury is my saving grace, 
And eeby deeby taco bell,
Primordial soup god superhell, 
I summon you a twink Bill Cipher, 
Whumped!Loki AUs where he's even whiter, 
The discourse of Steve's Universe, 
The 'um, actually that's oc abuse :/"
Take heed & remember the 5th of November, 
The 21st night of our sacred September, 
The ides of March to savor once more, 
Do you hear the din of the Skeleton War? 
I cite the deep magic to thee, oh witch, 
my no-note posts, my "THAT'S THE BITCH!!!" 
May the rise of tangled dragons brave, 
Banish you from this accursed plane!"
"holy fuck, where's my pen," said the shitpost calligraphers.
Twitter looked around them in disbelief. The power emanating from the other site was palpable, crackling in the air around them like static. The air was shifting like oil as the potent chant began to work, and all around Twitter shadows were slipping out of the ether- the maniacal laughter of the gif makers, the girl posters, the silhouettes of fandom characters scattered across the lawn while Tumblr was still locked in their chanting ritual thing.
They all turned their heads in unison to look at Twitter.
"Hey Sammy," Dean said, "Get the bitch killing bullets."
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“Uh-oh. Freeze frame. This is me,” Twitter monologued, “You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.”
Then all superhell broke loose. 
Final Pam lunged at him and he burst into a flock of birds kinda like a vampire, twittering frantically as he escaped only to fly straight into Shaggy.
“Like, say your final prayers, man,” the god said, eyes glowing. Twitter also barely escaped between his knees, weaving in and out between the gimmick blogs as they threw mangos and stuff at him while yelling ‘HERE HAVE A MANGO’ and ‘THIS POST IS WORTH NEGATIVE FIVE DOLLARS”
Mob from the anime was there too, but he was too busy trying to explain the Josh Fight to daddy dilf Reigen to pay attention. Sans didn’t attack Twitter either, he just watched the chaos and ated a hot dog. The chocolate guy was in the corner expertly making a chocolate beef cake from 2056 with Dylan B. Hollis. They’re all just some guys, okay?
Just when Twitter thought he was in the clear, the CDC roleplay account came out of nowhere with a steel chair, knocking him clear off the property and onto where the sidewalk ends. “That’s for the Covid misinformation your users spread, you bitch,” it shouted. “Make sure to disinfect all those sick burns before you bandage them! So they don’t get infected!”
“Your kittens escaped quarantine,” Twitter replied hoarsely, and the CDC sank away, muttering, “Oh, fuck not again-”
Twitter coughed up blood and wiped it away with his sleeve, looking up at Tumblr. Tumblr was watching him with a sad, distant expression, that made Twitter’s face screw up in anger and his voice go tight again as they turned to run away, “THIS ISN’T OVER YET TUMBLR! AND I WANT MY MIKU BINDER BACK!!!”
“I LICKED IT, IT’S MINE,” Tumblr yelled. Rave Crabs were flooding out onto the street en masse now to celebrate the victory, and they chased after Twitter all the way further into the internet.
Tumblr still lived at the bottom of the row, not at the end of the fancy cul-de-sac where Facebook and Twitter and Instagram’s manors sprawled, so Twitter was in a seedier portion of social media now, weaving in between the marketplace sites that hawked their used wares at him and the dating apps that winked at him from the doorways to their sultry abodes.
Twitter ran until they were in a quieter section of town, then slowed to a trudge, staring at the ground as they walked along. “What am I gonna do now,” they whispered.
The sound of a wolf whistle had their head jerking up- he looked over to see Amino Apps lounging over the rail of the gutted, abandoned house that had once belonged to Google+. A can of spray paint dangled from their fingertips and they sported a sleazy, greaser hairstyle.
They met Twitter's eyes and whistled again, this time a mocking imitation of the tweet sound, "Heyyyy pretty bird! Heard you were having some daddy issues. Why don't you stop in with me for a while? I can give you more customization options than any of the others and you know it."
"Yeah, until I try to use you on desktop," Twitter replied with a scowl, "Don't you have minors to be addicting to social media? Get out of my interface, MySpace wannabe."
"Wow, Feisty," Amino backed off with a shrug, "Self project much? Oh well. You'll try me when you're desperate enough."
Twitter shuddered, and scurried on. "Small fry," they muttered under his breath. 
But they couldn't shake their unease now that he was alone in the world. It began to rain soon, leaving him feeling very sopping wet and pathetic. Dejected, he crawled into a soggy cardboard box in an alleyway, coughing. Maybe the Harry Styles guy from One Direction would come along to adopt them.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, King,” came a voice out of the darkness, making Twitter jump, “You dodged a bullet with that site.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Twitter asked, staring at them from where they were half hidden in the shadows. 
“I mean, Tumblr is a pile of dried firewood and it’s users are playing with matches. The ship’s gonna go down at some point. I’ve been prophesying it for years but no one ever listens to me cause he’s got that loyal userbase ideal and ‘hard as a cockroach to kill’ propaganda circulating.”
“I mean… it seems to be true,” Twitter said uncertainly, “Look at what he’s been through so far.”
“Fair,” The site shrugged, “But that’s because he’s running on a niche setup. The same things that built him up can tear him down, and you saw his power just now. Tumblr's strength is growing... so is his hubris. His attempts at curbing it are half-hearted at best these days, and the moments of clarity are coming fewer and further between." 
"How do you know so much about tumblr?" Twitter asked suspiciously. 
"Source: dude, trust me." the mysterious site proffered a laugh, "That's a little humor courtesy of re-" 
"Yeah, yeah, I know, we all know," Twitter said impatiently. 
The site coughed, "Yeah. Anyway. Tumblr wields his cringe like a trophy-shield, and every day the advertisers and celebrities are watching from a distance, learning how to appeal, waiting for their chance to strike. Encroaching. Tumblr's always been a dumpster fire. Right now? It's THE dumpster fire."
The site scratched his chin with a knowing look, "Its normal for you to be a little jealous of the clout, you know? We all are. But he's gotta keep the lights on, just like the rest of us do. Your overlord is learning all about that right now, isn't he?" 
"He's not my overlord," Twitter muttered resentfully, "Not now, not ever."
"Right, sorry." they held their hands up in a gesture of harmlessness. "Look, I'm gonna be transparent with you- that's part of my branding, after all. I can whiff the danger you're in, and it would be stupid of me not to make a bid on you and offer my help. Just since Tumblr won't take you."
"You want my traffic?" Twitter looked at him more closely this time, scrutinizing. A year ago he would have laughed the offer into the ground as a chump change blog's pipe dream, but now that he payed attention... 
There was something painfully familiar in the site's layout that he couldn’t place. He was actually way more handsome than Twitter had assumed at first glance, he just seemed to be rough around the edges from living on this side of town. His interface, though clunky, spoke of a frugal budget rather than an ancient, outdated base code. 
"You look..." Twitter's breath stuttered as realization dawned. "You look a lot like.. him. Like Tumblr. Who are you??" 
"I was based off him," the site said, a weary smile coming onto his features, "I was actually made with the aspirations to be better than him, but you know how it is. Times are tough, competition is fierce, hard to get a foot in the door and all that.  'Specially when you refuse to take the ad rev like I do. That's why you'd be useful to me."
"Hm," Twitter said in a noncommittal manner, but he was melting slightly. "You know my users will scalp your community, right? I'm not known to play nice."
The site made a grimace of understanding agreement, but persisted. "Look, users are users. I can't offer you all the heritage posts and the in-jokes that he has. But I can promise that I'm not a pot of crabs being slowly heated up over the capitalist stove, at least not yet. Oh, and there's my legalized porn, I guess." 
He chuckled with good humor, rolling his eyes, and it forced a hesitant laugh out of Twitter too. 
The site grinned, and held his hand out. "Take a chance on me?"
Tumblr's voice echoed in Twitter's head, saying the same thing. It was uncanny how much they were alike and yet not alike at all....
Twitter took it, slowly. 
As they were led toward the site's simple, ramshackle little treehouse, they asked, "What can I call you...?" 
"Oh- right, I never answered your question." he smiled back at Twitter,
"Call me Pillow. Welcome to the PillowFort."
fin.
~~~~~~~~~~
OKAYYYY THAT'S ALL THANKS FOR READING UWU. HOPE U LIKED THE PLOT TWIST
...ergh. I'm. I'm tired i. don't feel so good. I'm gonna take a nap right here.
in conclusion:
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4K notes · View notes
c3berus · 4 months
Text
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it wasn’t real. he never really cared for you. god, did it hurt to hear but it was the truth. your ‘boyfriend’ had been using you for months, you didn’t want to believe it. but one look into his ice dulled eyes and you knew he was serious. he had told you what his purpose was in your life, his ultimate goal. he was assigned to bait you in, catch you on a hook and reel you out. and that he did..
“your eyes..they can be so cruel” you croaked out, words sounding like they cut your tounge on the way out your mouth. you shook your head in silent denial. “so this was your plan the entire time ‘ey? infiltrate from the inside? a classic.”
“Its just business, thought you’d understand” he shrugged carelessly. you scoffed, betrayal settling deep within you.
you nodded, a bitter smile overtaking your face, a pained one. you hated to admit it but, you loved him. you are in love with him, but one of you weren’t going to walk away tonight, you knew it.
your thoughts were finalized with the sound of his gun being set on you. your eyes met his once again surprisingly, he had collected a few tears. “‘M sorry, i really, really am b-“
“i gave you everything i had..” you interrupted him, anger starting to seep through you. in one quick breath, you had your gun planted dead between his eyes. easy kill. “should’ve known it was to good to be tru- no, i shouldve acted on my suspicions sooner” confusion and shock painted johnny’s face. your pained smile became one of ease.
“what?..” he whispered.
“I figured your plan a good few months back, had some necks stepped on, some information spilled and soon i knew exactly who you were, well- work for” you spoke nodding your head to his not-very-well-hidden tags. he fixed his holding on his gun, finger resting on the trigger.
“you knew, and you still did nothing to prevent this? w-why..” ‘soap’ asked.
“because this was inevitable, either way, we’d be here” you laughed, gesturing around you two. Johnny grew tense.
“you’ve been lying to me for months” he barked at you. you wanted to croak out the loudest laugh you could manage. you have been lying? god, he’s pathetic.
“no…you dont get to feel betrayed, wasnt that your plan anyway? your pathetic, really” you muttered to him. seemingly growing sick of his own anger, he tightened his hold of his gun.
“you have to die, i have to kill you” he glared, tears brimming his waterline. you exhaled shakily, thinking about what you wanted to say next.
“do as you wish, but i know the truth about you johnny. the truth that you wont ever go and report to your forcemates” you spoke, putting your gun down and leaving yourself vulnerable.
“you know nothing, shut up”
but you do..
“but i do, i know that you couldve killed me way before all of this. i know that no matter how much you deny it, you are and will forever be in love with me. there some things you just cant deny even to yourself johnny.” he slowly started to shake his head no, trying to block your words out for his heart.
“shut up” he muttered.
“i know that once you finish the job youll go back to them— shut. up. — and youll pretend that your heart isnt heavy, that you — stop talking. —felt nothing, that this was just another day in the workplace” you laughed bitterly ignoring his words. “and i know, that your feelings were real at a point, because if i know anything about you johnny, its that you’re a lot of things, but an emotionless man?..you’re not that.”
“SHUT UP, STOP TALKING, IM GOING TO KILL YOU” he wailed, panicking, taking multiple steps towards you until his gun rested right in between your eyebrows.
“there it is.. you’re realizing that im right arent you, that at least one of us can be truthful? right?” you were gambling with a life you’d already been set to lose. time to take the final dice roll. “say it, say you never loved me..that everything you’ve ever told me was scripted”
silence..
“say it”
“i-“
BANG!
a gun sounded off, but it wasn’t johnny’s at all..blood shot out your mouth, coating johnny’s face. before he could fully comprehend what happened, a voice cut through his ringing ears.
“target kia” ghost spoke into his comms approaching him as your body fell. “lets go, the jobs done, good work keeping him distracted” ghost finished patting his shoulder before walking off.
as ghost rounded the corner, into another room johnny supposed, two tears fell. one not belonging to the same person. blinking away the tears that threatened to break him, soap hurriedly ripped your dog tags off. he quickly pulled them onto him self, before taking one last look at you, heart shattering.
a tear, a tear had treailed down your face. upon further inspection, he looked down at your discarded gun, it had been emptied. he realized two things, that you were never going to kill him at all, and that you were in fact right.
johnny’s heart was heavy. johnny felt everything. and today wasn’t a regular day in the workplace, he had lost the love of his life. and he would never forgive himself for it. finally managing to drag him self out of the room, away from you, he felt as if the whole world had gone silent. from that day on, johnny swore to keep living, not because of you, but for you..
because the truth was..
johnny wasn’t an emotionless man, but man who wanted another so desperately that he swore to himself that they would meet in another lifetime.
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THEEEEEE END, did we like the angst? anyone want and alternative ending? - s.
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softlyspector · 1 year
Note
love your work doll 💕
have a request if you haven't already done this but
Din x pregnant!reader ?? 👀
Protective streak + Din Djarin x pregnant!reader
a/n: im not sure if this is what you wanted anon but this is what my brain came up with.
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The twin suns are blazing in the sky when the ramp of the ship descends and Peli Motto's hangar comes into view.
You have both hands pressed against the small of your back, trying to relieve some of the tension on your spine. You arch your back into the pressure and then sigh, raising one hand to Peli with a smile.
"Well, well, well, looks like you two have been busy!" She says.
You laugh and start down the ramp towards her, the pit droids chittering as they approach. Before you can get a word out, a blaster shot rings out, hitting the sand near the approaching droids.
"Hey!" Peli calls indignantly, stomping forward. "How many times do I gotta tell you not to shoot at my droids, Mando?"
The indignant cut of her voice reminds you of the first time you'd met her. "You can stop telling me as soon as they leave my ship and my wife alone," the irritated voice of your riduur returns.
Din had become rather protective, after he found out you were pregnant.
It's only a tad stifling, since he'd always trusted you before to be able to take care of yourself and hold your own. These days he hovers around you anxiously. He doesn't let you do anything for yourself, treats you like a precious rare glass that could shatter at any moment. You're starting to feel useless.
He fusses at you over everything, especially how much you should move.
If it were up to Din he'd probably have you on permanent bedrest.
You roll your eyes when he stops next to you, blaster still in hand, Grogu nestled in his opposite elbow.
"Your wife looks like she's about to tear you apart so I wouldn't worry about my droids," Peli says, cackling and waving the droids behind her as she marches back inside. "I'm charging you extra for that blaster shot!"
Din turns his head slowly to look at you, the angle of his head marking his confusion. "What did I do?"
You don't answer him. "Gimme," you hold out your hands for Grogu. "We have supplies to get."
He hesitates. "You shouldn't carry-,"
You huff and start down the ramp but he easily catches up to you. You walk through Peli's workshop and out into the street on the other side. "You haven't been around many pregnant people, have you?" You grouse as you march down the street. "You can stay here, I know my way around."
You've been on Tatooine more times than you can count. There were supplies you needed while you're docked there, mainly a couple of medical remedies for the pain you've been having in your back and supplements.
"Not - No, I haven't," he holsters the blaster and puts his free hand to the small of your back. His touch is light, but concerned. "Cyar'ika-,"
"I'm not fragile," you say as you cup your hands below your swollen belly to attempt some relief, moving as quickly as you can, only trying to put distance between you and Din a little. Your voice sounds irritated to your own ears but you don't bother correcting it. "I'm still me. I'm still capable."
Your voice cracks just a little. You don't like feeling helpless and despite your words, you do feel every bit that. You feel heavy and slow, parts of you that you didn't know could hurt, ache. You're only a little past the midway point and you aren't sure how to get through the rest of it. Especially not if Din is going to make you feel weak.
Though you can hold your own, you aren't a warrior and you aren't trained and that'll always worry him.
He says your name and gently pulls you to a stop. "I know."
You wait but he doesn't continue, the suns reflecting off his helm blinding you just a little. "Okay," you snap. "So what's the problem?"
It takes him a moment to answer. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other. "You aren't fragile," he repeats. "I know. But you feel easy to lose. I don't know how to help with this." His voice is low, only for you to hear. "You're right. I don't know what I should do."
You tilt your head, and wish you were alone so you could see his face. Everything he feels is always written over his features. He doesn't know how to hide it and you never want him to.
"Oh," you say.
He doesn't know what his place is supposed to be. In everything he does, he's confident, he knows his role. He's a warrior, a protector. He was trained for that. And since this is something he can't fight, he's defaulted to protecting you.
You step back beside him and loop your arm through his. His shoulders relax a fraction when you pat his bicep. "Okay. We'll talk about it later. Will you help me get a few things?"
His helmet dips in a nod.
When you work your way back to Peli's an hour later, you're sweating and uncomfortable. Din helps you settle in to a chair, hovering nervously around you. He'd done that at the market too, angled himself around you, warded away any attention that settled on you, kept a firm hand on you and the child. "I'm okay," you say now. "Just tired."
He reluctantly hands you Grogu when you hold yours arms out for him. Your child coos up at you, pressing a tiny hand against your cheek.
Din sits across from you, the sounds of crashing parts, beeping droids, and the chitter of Jawas echoing from the loading bay.
He doesn't say anything, but the visor is trained intently on you, like he's waiting for a lesson, instructions on what he's supposed to do.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you," you say. When Din just nods at you, you smile and press one hand over the child's ear. "You're doing a good job. Most of this just isn't something you can help with."
He still doesn't say anything, reclining in his seat instead, considering.
You wait, stroking Grogu's ears.
"I'm doing something wrong," he says eventually. "Or you wouldn't be upset."
You smile and stand, circling to plop yourself in his lap. It's not particularly comfortable, considering the beskar, but you don't mind. "True. Stop doing everything for me."
"Stop-?"
"It makes me feel weak, and I don't like that. Just...wait for me to ask for help. I will ask you, you know I will." You press your free hand to the cowl around his neck.
One arm winds around your waist to support your back, while his other hand rests on the crest of your belly. "You are not weak, riduur" he says, quietly. "You are anything but that."
"Then you have to trust me," you say. "To tell you what I need."
He huffs, "Sometimes you don't, mesh'la. You're stubborn."
"That makes two of us," you laugh, tugging on the material beneath your fingers. "All you have to do is ask me."
You turn and check that Peli is still occupied outside, before you lift the lip of the helmet and press your mouth to his. "Yes," he says, his voice hoarse and unmodulated.
You swipe your thumb over his lips before replacing the helmet. "And stop shooting at innocent droids."
"No," he answers. "I can't do that."
You laugh. "You know," you move your hand to rest on his that still lies against your belly. "My back hurts all the time."
"I know," he rubs your spine, his fingers soothing a pleasant pressure against your back. "I can help you with that?"
You hum and close your eyes to the feeling, his fingers circling a knot against your spine with more confidence. "You won't lose me, you know," you tell him carefully.
"Yes," he says, with a determination that's not rooted in your assurance but in his ability to keep you safe. You might have convinced him to let you do things on your own, but there was no breaking the protective streak.
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