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#forgive my stupidity but what exactly does this mean?
lemonlover1110 · 1 month
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 24] The Truth
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
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“What are you going to do with him again?” Satoru asks as you get ready to meet up with Suguru. He talks as if he has any right to know. You’re finishing up your makeup in your room while he stands in the doorway.
“Does it concern you?” You look back at him. And he sighs before shaking his head. He guesses it doesn’t. He can’t argue with you about it, yet he stands there, leaning on the doorframe. You finish putting on your lipstick before looking back at him and raising your eyebrows, “Aren’t you going to Ren? He’s waiting for you to talk about his birthday plans.”
“Right…” Satoru answers, turning around and going to Ren. He finally leaves you alone with your thoughts, finally not having to listen to his stupid comments. As much as you don’t enjoy his presence at the moment, you still have to tolerate him because of your son.
Slowly you are seeing his point of view, but that doesn’t mean you forgive him. Satoru was young, easy to manipulate– Well, you aren’t exactly focused on his age but more about the fact that Satoru was recently grieving the loss of his father and in a way felt threatened that he would lose everything simply for not following orders. What hurts you the most right now is that he didn’t even try to explain the situation to you, he assumed you were better off going your own separate ways.
“Mommy!” Ren comes running into your room, disrupting the peace that you were just granted. You look at the puppy eyes that adorn his face, and you already know he wants something. You allow him to speak first, not wanting to accuse him of something that he might not even do. But you’re proven right, “Can I get a puppy for my birthday?”
“Remind me how old you’re turning, Ren.” You tell him, and Ren holds up five fingers, a grin on his face as he shows off his big age. You fight back a smile, trying your best to remain as serious as you can possibly be. You won’t be easily convinced by him. “Five. Such a big age, right? But not enough to take care of a puppy, plus you’re starting school soon.”
“School?” Ren asks as if it’s the first time he hears of it. You’ve been preparing for him, telling him about it daily.
“You know, the place where you’ll be going to learn and make friends for the next thirteen or so years of your life.” You answer, and his mouth turns into a circle when he remembers. “Who’s going to take care of the puppy then? I still have to work.”
“Granny.” Ren answers, and you chuckle as you shake your head. Your mother isn’t exactly a big pet person, if you were to give her the responsibility of taking care of a puppy, she might just kill you. He puts his hands together and begs, “Please, mommy, please! I want a puppy!”
“Ren, we both know that–” You begin, but you realize you’re just wasting your breath. You look at the time, realizing that if you don’t finish up soon, you’ll be late. “Talk to your father about it, I have to finish getting ready.”
“Daddy!” Ren yells as he walks out of your bedroom. Maybe you made a mistake since Satoru loves to spoil Ren, and Satoru doesn’t like to think of additional responsibilities since he’s not the one that’s at Ren’s side at all times.
You’ll deal with it when Satoru attempts to get Ren a puppy, for now you’re going to focus on your own problems. Your own problem being your meeting with Suguru.
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You wait for Suguru at the café near your apartment. You have a beverage in your hand, taking an occasional sip, making sure you don’t finish it before Suguru finally decides to show up. Your eyes are glued to the door, waiting for him to finally make his grand entrance. 
You feel the nerves creeping through all of a sudden, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because you lied to him about Satoru, or maybe it’s because you’ve been avoiding his calls. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, looking at the time. If he doesn’t get here within five minutes, you’ll leave. He’s running late, and you have no intention of waiting for him all day.
In reality, you’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You want to avoid this confrontation as much as you can, but you know you have to face him eventually. Suguru has been one of Satoru’s closest friends, and you were close to dating, the least you can do is give him one last conversation. You can’t avoid him forever.
Your eyes shift back and forth between the time and the door, mentally praying that he doesn’t show up. However, your prayers go unanswered when he walks through the door, his eyes immediately landing on you. He gives you a soft smile as he approaches your table.
“Hi, Suguru.” You try to return his smile, but it looks awkward. Suguru points at the counter, telling you that he’s going to get his beverage before sitting down with you, to which you nod in response. You take another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. He looks fine, and you hate to ruin his day– Perhaps he won’t care, but you doubt it. You told him a very serious lie about his best friend, you doubt he’ll be too happy with you after finding out.
“It’s so nice to see you after… So long.” Suguru sits across from you. You shift in your seat, adjusting your posture before focusing on him. You nod with an awkward smile on your face. At that moment you know, this is going to be a long hour.
“It is.” You agree before a long awkward pause ensues. You clear your throat, about to ask him how he’s been holding up, but Suguru has other plans when he speaks up before you,
“Why have you been avoiding me?” He goes straight to the point. There’s a reason why you two are there, and it isn’t for small talk. Maybe you can get to more fun matters later or another day, but not right now. 
“I’ve just been busy with Satoru and figuring out this whole parent thing, that…” You begin with an excuse but you can’t finish the sentence. You bite down your lip before you take a deep breath. You have to say it, if you keep dragging it you’ll feel worse. “I partially lied to you. Satoru never suggested an abortion at the thought of me being pregnant, I didn’t tell him because he didn’t give me the chance to, and then I couldn’t tell him because… His mother didn’t want him to know.”
And he chuckles. Suguru lets out a laugh, which makes you furrow your brows. You expected many different reactions, but not a laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting for him to say something else.
“Is that why you haven’t been answering my calls?” Suguru asks, and you hum in response even though it’s not all. He lets out another laugh, and you want to ask why he laughs but you decide against it. You wait for him to finally say something else, although time feels as if it slows down. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” You sound utterly confused. What the hell is he talking about? How would Suguru know?
“I knew. I asked Satoru what he would’ve done if you had gotten pregnant and he said he would’ve stayed by your side.” He answers, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing that the situation won’t be the big mess that you were expecting. You do still feel guilty about it. “I mean sure… Satoru could’ve lied to me, but I don’t think he would have.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You’re curious as to why he decided to remain silent about this of all things. It’s a serious matter, which you would’ve expected him to furiously call you to berate you about. But you guess the man that sits across from you isn’t that type of person.
“You lied to me to protect your ass, and I can’t really blame you for it.” He shrugs, and he could’ve left it at that and it would’ve ended up perfectly fine. The conversation could’ve ended there and you would switch the topic and talk about more lighthearted stuff. But Suguru makes sure to add, “Plus Satoru also lied to you so you’re even, I guess.”
“Do you know?” You question, wondering why he brings up the fact that Satoru lied to you as well. You watch his cheeks turn pink when he realizes his words.
“Know what?” He stutters, which says all you need to know. He knows. For how long has he known? He realizes immediately that he’s messed up. He gave himself away.
“For how long have you known?” You immediately ask, and Suguru tries to play dumb, he claims he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, making a fool of himself. You’re clearly mad, but you try to not let it show through your tone. You try to take deep breaths.
“You can say we’re kind of even…” Suguru scratches the back of his head, but that’s not enough. You’re not even because the situation with Ren had nothing to do with him, at least in your eyes. Yes, you lied to him, but it was your business, something that had nothing to do with him.
“Does Shoko know too?” You scoff, and it’s merely a joke, but Suguru bites down his lip before commenting,
“I mean, considering the fact that she’s sleeping with his wife, probably.” Which makes your eyes widen. It’s shocking, but it makes a lot of sense. You’re still speechless. “Satoru told me… A while ago.”
“I guess we’re even then.” You let out a chuckle, but it’s not humorous. You’re clearly… Annoyed. “But I think… I had different plans for us, and so did you. But we should remain as friends.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, confused why you say that. He knows you’re mad, but what you’re making is a rash decision. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, you’re just upset because–”
“No, I know what I’m saying. Suguru, I lied to you so I guess I shouldn’t be too mad but I am. And I lied to you about Satoru, and… We shouldn’t be together, I feel like we started this off wrong.” You respond, and it almost hurts to say. 
“But we can start over again without lies and–” He begins, and you cut him off.
“Let’s try to give it some time before even thinking about that. I’m not really in the right headspace for a relationship.” You answer truthfully, and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t know why, but that ticks him off.
“I bet you’ll end up choosing Satoru again.” He sounds bitter, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he says that, he assumes you’re so in love with Satoru that you can’t have a relationship with him. Suguru thinks too mighty of himself. “Explains why you so adamantly ignored my calls, and why you were on vacation with him–”
“I have a son with him, Suguru. Of course I’m going to do shit with him.” You interrupt him, standing up from your seat. He has his arms crossed, looking almost like a pouty child because he isn’t getting his way. He almost reminds you of Satoru. “I told you we should give it time before we even begin to think about it. Don’t make your case worse.”
He keeps silent while you walk away, deciding that you’re right. He isn’t going to make his case worse. 
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“How did it go?” Satoru seems as if he has been waiting by the door for you the entire time. 
“He knew?” You immediately ask, and he nods in response which makes you roll your eyes. “Everyone knows shit except me.”
“I can say the same about Ren.” Satoru argues, which is a great point, but you won’t admit it. You hand him your purse, as if he were your own little butler, and he proceeds to take it to your room.
“Where’s Ren?” You half-yell, and the man shushes you, which earns a weird look from you. There’s no way he actually got Ren to fall asleep… But for what other reason would Satoru shush you?
“He’s asleep.” Satoru informs you when he walks back, and you want to question what kind of sorcery the man is doing to make a boy that hates taking naps, fall asleep. You do appreciate it though, so you won’t complain.
You two awkwardly stand around, not sure what to speak about next since Ren is asleep. There’s something that comes to mind, but you’re not sure how appropriate the question is. Ren is asleep, so there shouldn’t be an issue, however, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries.
You still clear your throat though, “Did you know that Shoko was–”
“I know.” Satoru chuckles. “Right when we got back, Shoko dug her claws into her– Or Sayo did.”
“Were you upset when you found out? I mean, when we first saw each other again you called her love.” You bring up, walking over to the couch to take a seat, and he follows behind. Satoru takes a moment to think, and properly formulate his answer. He sighs before speaking up,
“I guess, for a moment I thought I loved her. I’m very fond of her, and I confused my adoration for her as love. She knew what I was going through, and she was always sweet to me, we could make each other laugh. Overall, we got along.” He explains, and you listen attentively. You’ll do anything to gain a little bit of perspective into his mind. “We just had each other, and that was that. But then you came into my life, and I remembered what love felt like.”
You feel your face get warm, and you look away from him. Maybe Suguru is right– You can’t let him be right. Satoru still committed a lot of bad actions. 
You stay silent and let a minute pass before speaking up again, changing the topic, “It’s not just Ren’s birthday coming up, but also yours. What would you like?”
“I already have everything I could ever want.” Satoru answers, which makes your task slightly more difficult. You’re still going to get him something for his birthday, even if it’s just a pair of socks. “How about Ren? I heard he wants a puppy.”
“He’s not getting one. Nope.” You tell him, and he laughs before nodding in response. You’re not sure he’s gotten the message yet, but you’ll make sure to remind him.
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joedirtymadre · 2 months
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Imma need a part 2 of bothersome🫣🥺PLEASEEE
Bothersome - Part 2
LAW X READER!! (PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS! PLEASE! 🙏)
You stood at the edge of the ship, watching the sunset slowly set. After Punk Hazard, you all returned back to the ship. Out to Dressrosa, to help Law with whatever he was planning. “So you’re just going to ignore me?” That deep voice called out to you. You continued staring out to the sea, hearing footsteps behind you come closer. You could sense him standing next to you, staring at you.
“What’s wrong with that? You did it to me throughout our relationship,” you said softly.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Please forgive me, what I did was wrong and I don’t want this affecting the allia-“ you quickly cut him off. “Why would our past affect the alliance? Did you honestly think I haven’t moved on by now?” You laughed. “I-… No I didn’t think that, but…” he trailed off. “Don’t worry, I’ll happily accept my captain’s orders… even if it means having to be in alliance with you,” you said coldly.
You turned around and headed towards the girl’s quarters. “(Y/N), I wasn’t done speaking!” He said, as he followed me. “Ok, so what else did you have to say?” You asked as you turned back to face him. “U-Uh… well you look… nice. How have you… been?” He asked awkwardly. “You really want to have a quick catch up?” You scoffed. “Well like you said we’re in an alliance now, so we should be able to have civil conversations,” he explained. You raised an eyebrow, “Traffy, weren’t you the one that tried to explain to Luffy that an alliance doesn’t mean we’re friends?” You asked.
“Not you using that dumb name too… a-and I did but-“ you cut him off. “Exactly! Thank you for remembering! Now I’ll be off to my room,” you said as you turned back and quickly entered your room before he could stop you.
You threw yourself on your bed, “Just another example of having the worst luck ever… Now I have to see and help my ex for who knows how long,” you sighed as you stared at the ceiling. “This is all so stupid and awkward!” You said to yourself as you rubbed your head. Out of all people, him?! At this point you would’ve preferred if Kidd showed up or something… And what the hell is up with him trying to have small talk with me? Does he expect me to be buddy buddy with him like nothing happened?
You quickly sat up, and shook your head. “Stop thinking about him. We’re over him, he doesn’t affect us anymore…” you said to yourself as you felt tears fall down your face. “God I’m so stupid!” You yelled.
Suddenly you heard the door open, and you quickly wiped away any tears. “(Y/N)? Are you awake?” You heard Robin call out. “Hi Robin,” you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She asked as she sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s nothing, just some bad memories…” you said, as you avoided her eyes. “You know you can tell me, I’m your friend (Y/N),” she smiled as she placed her hand on top of mine. “I know, thanks,” you smiled softly. “I came to check on you, because I saw how upset you looked after speaking with Trafalgar,” she replied. “Yeah, I just don’t feel too comfortable around him,” you confessed. “You should tell Luffy, I’m sure he’ll under-“ you quickly cut her off. “No! No…” you repeated. “I can’t let him know! I can’t-“ you shut your mouth, afraid of your voice cracking.
“Let him get to you? I don’t understand,” she said, confused. You sat there in silence, pondering whether to tell her or not. “(Y/N), I’ll always be here for you. Do you and Trafalgar have a past history?” She asked. “Mhmm… I used to be a part of his crew, before I left…” you trailed off. “You left? Why?” She asked. “We were dating… until he shared his true feelings with me. I couldn’t stay there, not after what he said to me… So I left, while he was distracted by some Marines,” you explained, feeling a heavy weight fall off your shoulder. “Oh my,” Robin gasped. “Yep, so now we’re in an alliance with him. It’s weird, and I’ve moved on… but it sucks seeing him,” you said slowly.
“I see,” she said softly. “It’s ok, we’ll show him that you’ve grown. That no matter what he does, he can’t hurt you. Especially when you have friends here that will support you,” she smiled as he wrapped me into a hug. “You’re right!” You grinned. Your beautiful moment was quickly interrupted by your stomach growling. “Ah… I guess all this talk got me hungry,” you said sheepishly. “Let’s go get dinner,” Robin said. You nodded and the both of you quickly headed to the dining table.
You sat in between Robin and Luffy, and across from… Law. “Here you go everyone, dinner’s ready!” Sanji smiled as he sat down to eat. “Thank you,” we all said and quickly began eating. You reached forward for a rice ball, and brushed your hands against Law’s. You immediately flinched, looking up to see him staring your way.
You quickly grabbed a rice ball and pulled your arm away. You began to eat, trying to look anywhere but his direction. “Hey (Y/N)!” Said Luffy, breaking you out of your concentration. “Y-Yes?” You stuttered as you looked next to you. “Are you gonna finish your meat?” He asked, drooling. “Luffy! Leave (Y/N)’s food alone!” Sanji yelled. “It’s fine, you can have it Luffy,” you smiled as you handed him your plate.
“Thanks!” He smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown as he stared at you. “Something wrong?” You asked. “Yeah… one sec,” he said as he moved his hand to your face. Slowly wiping away at your cheek, you felt your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, you had rice on your cheek,” he laughed. “Oh, thanks,” you smiled. “Ow!” Luffy yelled, causing everyone to focus their attention on him. “Someone stepped on me!” He huffed. “Huh?” You questioned.
“You’re just imagining it,” Nami said. “Here Luffy, take my sandwich,” you said as you placed it onto his plate. “Wow!” He said, quickly changing his focus back onto his food. You slowly turned your eyes to the man in front of you. You almost fell out of your seat, once seeing the daggers that this man was staring into you.
“I-I’ll think I’ll call it an early night, night you guys,” you said as you quickly headed out of the dining room.
“Man that was tense,” you sighed as you walked towards your room. You slowly reached for the door knob, before suddenly being turned over and being pushed against the wall. You grunted as your back hit the door, you quickly opened your eyes to see that you were trapped by… Law… “T-Traffy?” You asked nervously. “So I see that you moved on, but I didn’t know you had a thing for captains,” he said coldly. “Woah… Woah… you think I moved from you onto Luffy? You’re crazy,” you laughed.
You noticed a light pink hue on his cheeks, as you continued to laugh. “Well why the blushy face when he reached for your face?” He questioned. “Well… wouldn’t anyone blush if you had food on your face and your friend took it off?” You asked. “I- Uh-“ you quickly cut him off. “Look like someone else needs to move on,” you laughed again, while slowly turning around to open the door. But was quickly turned back around, “Stop messing with me!” He yelled.
“What do you want from me? Do you still wish that I head head over heels for you, well tough shit cause you messed that up!” You yelled. You noticed that he was slightly taken aback by your response. “So what if I end up liking Luffy or whoever! That has nothing to do with you! You’re nothing to me, nothing,” you growled as you pushed him away.
“I’m not the same girl anymore, that would follow your every word. Or kiss the floor where you stepped on,” you glared. “So just leave me alone… haven’t you done enough?” You asked as you were finally able to open the door to the girls’ quarters. You quickly entered the door, ignoring Law’s calls for you. As you went to slam the door, a foot stopped it from slamming.
“Jesus Christ, you just don’t know when to leave a girl alone…” you groaned. “I’m sorry… I just want to say that I’m sorry,” he peeked through. “Ok now mov-“ he cut you off. “I’m sorry… for what I said. When you left, I realized how much I missed you- needed you… We went back to the island, but you were already gone. I don’t know what went over me, I-I missed your laughs, your smile, you interrupting me from my work, calling me honey… I know I screwed up, and seeing you now… Just reminds me of when we were still together… but I guess that’ll never be the case again,” he confessed. You stayed silent. “I’ll leave you alone, or as much as I can… I just wanted to let you know how I felt,” he said softly before removing his foot. Finally allowing you to shut the door.
You let out a deep sigh, and slowly slid down against the door. “Why do I feel like this?” You asked yourself as you clenched your hair. “What do I do now…?” You softly cried into your arms.
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royaltozaki · 26 days
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what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u
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failing maths, but getting the girl
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synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.
warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex
w/c: 4.0k
a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s
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"y/n!"
you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.
you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.
you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"
"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."
you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.
"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."
"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."
"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.
"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"
"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."
momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.
the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
“you failed.”
“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”
“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”
you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.
“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”
the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"
you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."
you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."
"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."
she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."
you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.
"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"
"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."
you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."
"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."
"oh... i guess that's better?"
"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"
"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"
"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."
you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.
your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."
"what?! you can't leave me here!"
your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"
you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.
two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.
you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.
definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.
your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.
"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.
"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.
"i-i'm sorry i-"
she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."
you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.
you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.
you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.
when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"
you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'
she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."
you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."
she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."
you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."
she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.
you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.
she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.
it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.
"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.
"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."
momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.
"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."
"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."
you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.
you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"
she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."
"wanna talk about it?"
she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."
it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."
"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"
she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."
"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"
she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."
you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"
she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."
you frown, sitting back on your heels.
"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"
"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.
you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.
you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.
you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."
you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."
momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."
you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.
"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"
she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.
"you don't need any of those things anyway."
you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.
she clears her throat, "all done."
you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.
you beam up at her, "thanks!"
she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."
you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"
she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"
you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"
she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.
once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..
"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."
"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"
momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"
"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.
"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.
"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."
you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"
"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"
"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"
"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."
you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"
she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."
you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"
momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.
"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."
"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."
you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.
momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.
"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"
"y/n..."
"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."
"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.
you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.
"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.
"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."
you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.
"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.
"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"
she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"
you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."
"y/n!"
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.
you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.
you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.
you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?
you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.
you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"
momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.
that was hot.
"rohypnol."
"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?
you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.
"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."
the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"
"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"
"what!? the fuck?!"
momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."
he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.
she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."
you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.
she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.
you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.
"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.
she hums lightly against you, "which part?"
"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"
she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"
you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."
her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.
you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.
you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.
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luveline · 9 months
Note
Hi Jade! Congratulations on 40k (deserved deserved deserved!!!!!)
Can I plz request some KBD Steve and Reader for 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐛 ?
Maybe they’re on a rare date night and they love getting to be alone together but they do miss their babies!
tyvm <3 kisses before dinner —dad!steve and mom!reader go on a date (for a little while). 1.3k
"Are you sure I don't look really stupid?" you ask as Steve opens the passenger door.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Steve says simply, hand out to help you from the car. You smile and take his hand. You've done it hundreds of times, but you remember the first. 
"Woman," you correct without irritation. You've been together for almost ten years and you have four children. Four. "I don't think many people would say I'm a girl anymore."
"Ah, but you're my girl," —Steve laughs as you laugh, pulling you from the path of the door to close it and lock it— "so forgive me. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. 'N' I love white on you, as you know." 
You laugh more at his formal talking and fold your arm between his. Robin has made it so you can wear a white dress without fear of stains, agreeing to have your four girls for the day. Though day is a gentle term, because you don't expect anybody to be able to cope with children that aren't theirs for more than a few hours. You suspect you'll have four or five hours (Robin is well-trained and, more importantly, extremely loving toward your children) before one of them has a meltdown from missing you. 
Dove is the likely perpetrator. "She's really moody lately," you say, knowing Steve will get exactly who you mean as you begin walking from the parking lot and down the street to the coffee shop. 
Sure enough, he covers your hand where it rests in the crook of his arm and says, "She's in her terrible twos. But maybe you should be spending a little more time with her." He isn't judging or criticising you, just making an educated assumption. "Heather steals all your attention." 
"You can call her Heather as much as you like, but it isn't her name," you say, nudging his chest. 
"Can, will, is. I think she just misses you." Steve sees you squinting in the sun and offers his sunglasses. You lift your head and let him slide them up your nose, more for his touch and attention than a real need for them. It's a surprisingly sunny day in late September, the wind blowing warm on your bare legs and arms. "You know you're her favourite." 
"Do you ever worry that it's 'cos I don't see her enough? I mean, I'm home now, but that's only for another month. What if… like, what if I work and she grows up missing me so much she resents you?" 
"Do you think that's gonna happen?" Steve asks genuinely. 
"No. I dunno." You turn his face to yours in the middle of the street. You've changed a lot over the years. Being pregnant does that, but so does ageing, and living. Steve looks at you like you're charming, like the fact of your existence alone could make him laugh. You look at him the same. "You know, you get more handsome all the time." 
You kiss him. Steve closes his eyes and follows your lead. He bumps the sunglasses with his enthusiasm, and his kiss grows softer in apology. 
"She'll be okay. But you need more time together. And Avery needs more time with me, and Bethie needs less time in my lap–" 
"I can't see that happening," you say. "She's your pest." 
Steve hears the fondness in your voice and presses his hand to his chest, leaning back. "My girls," he says. 
You pass him back his sunglasses and look around. You and Steve have a favourite coffee shop slash smoothie place that serves all manner of hot snacks. You would've gone for lunch, but you promised Bethie you'd make her special toast (French toast) and might have been too greedy about it. Steve is a slammer for food even now, his metabolism doesn't slow, and you figure he'll have grilled cheese with his smoothie or a cup of soup. 
You didn't tell Steve you couldn't manage lunch, he just knew. He can read your mind these days. You love it more than you can explain. 
"Nice flowers," you say, pointing at the florists. 
"They don't have your favourite ones ever," Steve says, hand on your shoulder to hold you out of his line of view. "They're nice though, the white ones." He points at a bucket on the low sill. "Do you want those?" 
"No, I'm just saying they're nice," you say. 
"Come on, let's go get some. I should've got you some anyways, that's the point of a date." Steve offers his hand. You take it shyly, not so secretly pleased at his insistence. 
You stand in the cool air of the flower shop hand in hand, picking out flowers. It starts with Steve trying to buy you flowers, you buying him flowers, and then the two of you spend forty minutes picking flowers out for the girls. Avery loves roses, Bethie isn't picky so long as the buds are impressively big, Dove couldn't care less about flowers and little baby ‘Heather’ sleeps and eats solely. You get Dove a small bunch of pink peonies and decide to share your bouquet of white flowers with the baby. Steve gets a mixed bouquet and doesn't protest. 
You have too many flowers to take with you to the coffee shop. You both refuse to admit what's happening until you're back in the car. 
"Are we really doing this?" you ask. 
"Why, think we should've bought flowers for Robin?" 
"I think the thank you movie tickets and the chocolates and the five minute hug you forced her into was thank you enough, but maybe we should've." You beam at him. "I mean, are we really going home? We didn't even make it to the coffee house." 
"We could take these home and put them in some water and come back…" He scratches a hand through his hair. "I miss them more than I thought I would. We've been glued together for a month, and I can't stop worrying about the baby." 
"I miss them too," you admit. 
You and Steve get drive through, and you kiss and murmur stupid shit at each other in the car outside of Robin's house for a perfect ten minutes, until Avery throws open your car door to scream hello. 
"I'm so happy you're home so early!" she shouts, scrambling up the foot well and straight into your lap. "Did you have fun at your date?" 
"Well, we were late leaving the house because I realised Dove's been drawing pictures on my button downs, and I almost crashed the car and scared mom half to death because the sun was in my eyes, and we were distracted looking at flowers for years and now we're home," Steve says. 
"So yeah, we had fun," you say. 
Steve leans over to kiss you. Avery laughs and shoves her hand between your faces, "Guys, I think Aunt Robin needs help, the baby won't stop crying and crying and crying and Dove tipped her drink all over Beth's pink dress. I think on purpose." 
Robin is very very sorry, and she didn't even call you guys, so why are you back? But she's grateful to be released. Not nearly as much as the girls are to see you guys. 
Robin is a great aunt, but you have clingy kids. 
"Mom!" Bethie shouts, pointing down at her sodden dress with a wobbly lip. "Look." 
"Aw, sweetheart, I see it. I put spare clothes in your bag, let's go get changed, okay?" 
You and Bethie leave hand in hand to clean up. Steve juggles the three remaining children dextrously, the baby against his chest, Dove's shoulder under his hand, and Avery crowding his other side. He's barely in the living room. 
"Hello," he says, kissing one little head after the other. "Hi, honey. You okay?" 
"Did you at least have a good two hours?" Robin asks sympathetically. 
Steve nods happily. "We did. Really. Next time I think we might even make it to the coffee shop." 
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ohcaptains · 1 year
Text
abby love theme
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pairing. abby anderson x f!reader
synopsis. abby begs for forgiveness. then tries to make it up to you. 
an. :) hey. do people read this bit? lemme know if you read this bit. also, did you know i’m a gamer girl now? --  looks like i’ve made writing for a dead fandom a thing so, might as well carry on. apologies if this isn’t your thing, but abby got me out of a month long writing slump so ! 
warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving oral, female receiving penetration (fingers), spit play, slightly mean! abby, hair pulling, and angst but mostly just graphic smut lol.
When Abby comes back, she’s apologetic. 
She unlocks the door – as quietly as humanly possible – and gently pushes it back into the latch. Then, as always, bolts the top and bottom, an instinct, from doing it every night. 
She’s always the first person up, and the last person in. Always the last one to get into bed – on your side, because you’re always asleep on her side – and the last one to say goodnight.
Now, though, she’s saying, “I’m sorry.” Standing at the edge, and whispering it at the back of your head, the soft verbiage a thunderclap in the soundless cocoon of your room. If you heard her, you give her no inclination. 
It looks as if you’re sound asleep, and usually, Abby would do her best not to disturb your peace, but right now, she’s seconds away from begging.
So, she does something similar.
Clambers onto your shared bed, knees digging into the springs, and shuffles up close. Plunges her hands under and around you, and pulls you against her, speaking before you can. Just, speaking into the back of your neck – lips wet and swollen from her nervous chewing.
“I’m sorry I yelled,” she starts, which, in her mind, is the crux of the whole ordeal. Shouldn’t have yelled, shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, and yelled and that’s exactly what she’s saying, saying, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions and got distant and annoying. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.
Hands tighten around your middle, and at some point, you grab onto them. “I thought – “she’s going again. “I thought you were pulling away, so I did the same. It was stupid and childish and I’m sorry, I won’t – “
She repeats it like she’s stuck in a loop.
“– I won’t do it again I promise.”
She kisses the back of your neck and nuzzles deeper like she’s trying to imprint it onto your spinal cord – forcing it to travel up into your brain. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ll stay, hear you out – won’t yell, I’m sorry.”
Her kisses travel across your jaw, all punctuated with the same apologetic phrase. You’re awake now – awake as soon as she clambered onto the bed, as graceful as a truck – and you twist to greet her mouth.
Kiss her, and shut her up, yet still – she manages to say it again.
“’ m’ sorry,” she mumbles into your mouth. You can taste how sorry she is. Feel it, the desperation, in her wandering hands – pulling you into her, palming your lower back and twisting your shirt into her fist. 
She says it as she rolls on top of you. Her knees push against your hips, ass against your crotch, and she’s still got your top stretched between her fingers.
Abby tongues her way into your mouth and you gasp, lifting your head off of the pillows to follow her mouth. “’ m’ sorry,” she goes again, making out with you. Wet and wanting, the kind of kiss that could only happen at two in the morning.
The gasp you sounded before turns into a whimper. Her kiss is intoxicating and knocks you for six – makes you loose and easy to manoeuvre. Abby drags kisses over your cheek, scattering them under your jaw as she repeats her apology again and again.
The heat of her, the weight of her – consumes you. You’d forgiven her hours ago. Feels like you’d always forgive Abby, no matter what she did. Even if she was quick to anger. Read things wrong. She always came home with her tail between her legs.
“Don’t yell at me like that again, Abby.”
“I won’t — “she immediately goes, her voice strained. She lifts her head and watches you, inches away, her face clouded in darkness. “I promise. I promise, um’sorry.”
Abby is gorgeous. Always has been. But she’s never more gorgeous than when she’s inches away, mouth against yours, with her blue eyes big and wanting. When she dips to kiss your neck again, you sigh out into your shared bedroom.
“’s’ okay, baby,” you breathe – finally – eyes fluttering closed and fingers reaching to slide into her hair. You hum, the swell of her mouth and wet of her tongue opening you up. It forces your legs to hang open around her hips. 
Makes you loose and liquid, but she switches, sucks at the hollow of your throat, and you tighten up, fingers, legs, and hips -- pushing up into hers.
“Fuck—” you moan, back arching, “’s’ okay, Abby.”
It’s like she can’t hear you.
Spurred on by an obscene need, she’s sucking bruises into your skin. Gripping at your clothing and pulling it into her fist – tight -- not daring to let go.
“Abby,” you whisper, trying to turn to her, but she refuses to budge. Just. Sits on your lap and marks you with her mouth. She’s still cladded in her pants, the ones with the pockets and buckles. Wearing her shirt with the cut-off sleeves, smelling faintly of the gym.
Had gone to work her frustration out, then came home to apologise. Again, and again and again and she says it, again. Grounds her hips into yours, and you don’t think she even knows she’s doing it. Don’t think she knows she’s pushing the buckle of her belt against your crotch, the bite of it grinding through your sleep shorts.
“Mm, Abby,” you sigh again, twisting – again. Still, she doesn’t move. You grip the back of her head and pull her hair, catching her lips in yours before she can complain. You kiss her as she kissed you before. Tongue in her mouth, desperation in your fingertips – Abby mumbles, sorry, between the spit and teeth.
“I know,” you whisper, jutting your hips against hers.
“I know, baby,” you repeat, dragging the words under her chin, followed by the mesh of your mouth, teeth scraping against her jaw. You kiss away the red, say, I know, and taste her again. Repeat the motion, and Abby loves it. Has always loved when you got a little rough with her. 
Takes a lot for Abby Anderson to break. She hums your name, and whispers, “Fuck,” when you suck a mark under her jaw, then, suddenly, she’s pulling away.
Leans back on your lap, tall and overwhelming, and reaches down, dragging the hem of her shirt up and over her head. You gaze at her as she throws it behind her, followed by the tug of her bra, and before you get the chance to gaze at her chest, she’s back and kissing you.
“Lemme make it up to you,” she breathes into your mouth. She pushes her chest into yours, and you feel her – the lines of her muscles, the softness of her tits, and Abby clutches your vest again, so tight that you’re basically not wearing it – the fabric bunched up in the middle. 
You whisper, “take my shirt off then,” and she takes your shorts off, too.
Strips you bare, and kisses where your clothes once touched. Tongue curling around a nipple, fingers tugging at the other – trailing spit down your belly, palm flat on your heart, hips stretching lower and lower, until you watch her drag her teeth under your belly button.
You choke a gasp, and Abby smiles. A small one, but it’s there, and it twists mischievously as she lowers her tongue and swirls it above your crotch. “Shit – Abs,” you whisper, pulling your knuckles into your mouth. 
You’re so sensitive there, and Abby knows. Knows that the feeling always shoots down lower and pushes against your clit. Abby’s chest is barely brushing against it.
She swirls her tongue again, sucking a mark as her wide, strong palms pull your thighs up. She gets comfortable laying between your legs.
“Did I mention that I was sorry?” Abby asks, mouth exploring. Her teasing forces something warm and buttery to bloom in your chest. The feeling triples as her mouth dips, scattering wet, intricate kisses over your inner thighs. Her thick fingers jut into your skin, rubbing circles into your thighs, and pushing at your lower stomach. Your hips buck into her face. “Mm, yeah – think so,” you quickly rush, words high pitch and desperate. Abby glances up at you, her blue eyes are bright and brilliant. You have to reach down between your thighs and cup her cheek. 
Have to swipe your thumb at the spit she’s got smeared over her lips, and Abby’s tongue comes out, running over your skin before she sucks your finger into her mouth. Your face twists, lips parting. 
Whispering, “might have to show me how sorry you are, though.” “Yeah?” Abby immediately breathes, barely looking at you. Too busy swirling her tongue around your thumb. Your heart thumps a beating drum, clit throbs, and you clench, humming her name.
Say, “Abs,” and her eyes open -- pupils are blown wide. A conniving smirk on her pretty face, and she growls and bites – pretending to chomp on your finger. You pull your hand away, giggling, saying, “what the hell, Abby!” but she’s not listening. Too busy hitching your hips up. 
Too busy dribbling spit onto your pussy, and your giggle twists to a loud gasp as she drags the flat of her tongue from your hole to your clit. Your body shatters. Her name is a strangled sob, and you have to muffle it with the back of your palm.
“Fuck,” you whimper, not having enough energy to cuss her out. Not that you want to, anyway. Even if she deserves it. Even if you still want to be angry at her, but what good would that do? 
She’d literally crawled into bed with her metaphorical tail between her legs. The hot-headed Abby Anderson, who only ever wanted to be good. That is who you fell in love with.
She drags her tongue through your folds again. Relaxed, slow, and sensual. Again, and again Taking her time with you because she could. Because you’d let her – let her do anything, really. 
Let her swirl her tongue around your clit, saliva drooling over your heat, and dripping between your legs.
A warm, welcome heat spreads across your thighs, pushing at your belly and spine, forcing you to squirm – or at least try and squirm away from it, but Abby keeps you locked where she wants you. 
Sucks your clit into her mouth, and you moan, back trying to arch, but shit, she won’t let you.
“A-Abby,” you hiccup, arching as far as she’ll let. Your fingers search for something to grab onto — one finds the sheets, and the other finds her hair, where it pushes into her messy braid and tugs, both frustrated and turned on beyond relief.
You say her name again, a plead to stop, a plead to carry on, forever.
Abby chooses the latter, and it does feel like forever. Feels like a lifetime of her dragging her tongue through your folds. Her nose pushes into your heat, and the wet of you soaks her chin. 
She sinks a finger inside, and you moan her God damn name.
She doesn’t slow down — why would she? but most of all, how could she? When you’re stretched out on the bed she shares with you, naked, and whispering her name.
Again and again, Abby, Abby, Abby.
The beating of a drum — one that matches the buzzing, fluttering, and flapping of her heart. How can she stop, when you’re clenching around her middle finger, moaning deep and long — a drawn-out sound that echoes around the room. You soak her finger, too. Soak both when she adds another. Abby curses. 
“Maybe I should piss you off more often if this is my penance.” 
It’s hard to speak, but still, you manage. 
“Fuck—d-don’t get it twisted— “you tighten your grip on her hair, “--you’re still—still in the doghouse.” 
Abby pouts, eyeing you, “but I’m being such a good boy.”
“Jesus Christ.” 
You have to let go of the sheet to cover your face. Then, moan into your knuckle as you clench, her fingers stretching you out. 
Abby hums a laugh, “you like that, huh?”
Your rebuttal is quiet, a whisper of a sound as you utter —
“No one likes a show-off.” 
“But you do.” 
“Yeah— “you sigh, clenching again, the feeling building behind your clit. “I do.” 
Too much, sometimes. Feels like you’re so full of love for Abby Anderson that you’re fit to burst.
Her fingers speed up. Deep and long, but at the perfect tempo to have your legs shaking. Have you biting at the back of your hand, too, to stop you from screaming and waking up the entire floor. 
She has her calloused hands holding your legs against the bed, and it’s all take and take and take. The obscene pressure makes you drift off, and you’re lightheaded and docile when she asks,
“I make you feel safe, right?”
“W-what?” 
The question knocks you for a loop. You look down at her, eyes blown, forehead furrowed, and a smile drags onto her stubborn face. She rests her forehead on your lower stomach and speaks into your skin as she stretches you open with her fingers. You gasp, eyes rolling back.
“S’ what you said, earlier — that I make you feel safe.” 
You don’t remember saying that. Did you say that? You must have. You try and think back to the argument. Think back to her getting insecure and angry about Mel saying that Abby hovers around you all the time.
I like having you around Abby, you make me feel safe.
When you don’t respond, she picks up the speed. Drags her fingers through your cunt -- makes you squirm and drench her fingers, a shocked gasp choking at your throat. The sound grabs her attention, and she snaps up, the heat of her stare a living, breathing thing. 
“Right?” she repeats.
“Yes,” you gasp, hot all over, then, “Fuck — yes.” 
“You like having me around, yes?”
“Yes Abby, yes yesyes.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah — fuck, even if you, drive me fucking crazy— “
She sucks your clit into her mouth again, and you break.
“—oh holy shit, yes, please, Abby please keep doing that please keep doing that, please, please, please, please, please.” 
You’re wired. The drag of her fingers. The warm, tight, suck of her mouth. Delirious. You moan her name as if it’s the only word you know. Right now, it is. The brain fog is seeping in, and you can’t remember why you were mad. What did she do again? You clench down on her fingers, so tight that it hurts.
“Abs — um’gonna come. Fuck, please, please let me come I want it want it so bad.” 
Abby doesn’t speak, just grunts, and nods her head against your cunt. Nods, and nods, and loosens her grip on your legs, letting you – finally – rest your thighs against her shoulders as the harsh, hot feeling spills over you. Your eyes roll back, fingers coil in her hair, and everything is clenched and tense and tight, until you release, wet and hot and intense.
“Oh my fucking God—Abby, Abby, Ohm’god, so fuck—” the words dribble out of your mouth like spit. Mindless, dredged up from somewhere dark and damp, saved for this moment only. Abby bathes in them, never stopping her fingers, never stopping her tongue as she soaks you up, your body shaking from under her grip. 
At some point, she watches, and God – it’s a sight to behold. When the feeling fizzles out, and you’re gasping in air, your flustered face staring down at her, she stretches up. Kisses you and spreads your musk over your lips as she tongues her way into your mouth, her wet fingers grabbing a hold of your cheek to keep you steady. She says some words of her own, but you barely hear them, still drunk and dizzy from how far she took you.
With shaky, weak hands, you reach down for the buckle of her jeans. “’ S’my turn,” you mumble against her mouth, and she laughs quietly. “My turn, you mean.” “Mm,” you hum, kissing the taste of you off of her lips. Still fuzzy, you go dizzy when you shake your head at her. “You okay sweetheart?” she laughs, and you roll your eyes. “’ jus’ gimmie a minute, then it’ll be my turn.”
Abby always tries to keep quiet at first. You thought it was a pride thing, then briefly, a shame thing, but then you realised, it was just an Abby Thing. Another Abby Thing -- is that she likes to watch.
Props herself onto her elbows – with one hand in your hair – and gazes down at you between her thighs. It’s what she’s doing now. Her fingers are lax in your strands, and eyes are lazy as she regards you with curiosity.
Tongue in the corner of her mouth, a furrow in her brows, as you kiss at the inside of her muscular thighs. You move with no real direction, and Abby gets lost in the bobbing of your head, the slow build before you’re dragging your tongue over the thin skin between her thigh and pussy, and she opens her mouth to make a sound. Still. She’s silent.
Achingly so.
You brush your mouth against her. Just an inch. Just a touch, and look up, catching her blue gaze. A small, teasing smile quirks at her lips, and she raises a brow, silently saying, well, go on then.
One thing that surprised you about Abby, was how nice she was.
Reserved, yes – but nice. Nice, until she got mean. Despicable. You love all sides of her, but it’s moments like this, where you particularly love the mean part of her.
The part that tightens her grip on your hair – tight and unforgiving – as you drool so much spit onto her pussy that it drips over your chin and soaks the mattress. The part that tuts when you start too fast, causing her to say, slow – slow down pretty, go slow for me. The part that lifts your head when you don’t slow down, spitting, what the fuck did I just say?
But this moment? this moment isn’t like that at all. There’s no mean Abby. There’s only the thankful Abby. The one who whispers praises at you, eyes locked on the way you swipe your spit over her cunt, pushing it into her, and tasting how wet she got from making you come. 
She says that’s it, so faintly, that you barely hear her. But no matter, she’s saying it again. Saying, that’s it, baby, as you build up the momentum, just barely touching her clit – like she taught you. You always were a good listener. It’s how you hear the hushed sound she sighs. How you hear her low grunt, followed by her high-pitched intake of breath as you nudge your nose against the swollen bundle of nerves.
She’s soaking.
Completely drenched and knowing that she got like this from eating you out fuels your desire. Forces you to abandon your slow movements, and instead, begin to consume her. Tongue flat, fingers tight on her hips, you work her over, drooling and moaning, and swirling your tongue over her clit until she has to make a sound.
“Shit,” she grunts, and you glance up at her. She’s chewing on her bottom lip. Jaw clenched, eyes blown and cheeks red – trying to keep herself contained. You have to smile. Have to grin at her as you roll your tongue over her clit, watching her desperately try and cling to any sense of sanity. It’s no use though, because when you suck her clit into your mouth – sloppy with spit -- she has to look away.
She can’t hold herself up anymore, either, and she falls back to the pillows, back immediately arching, and she has to drag her bicep over her face, hiding her face from view as she moans a deep and guttural, “Fucccckkkkk,” into the bedroom.
Her fingers clutch your hair, and she uses her grip as leverage and grinds her cunt against your mouth and chin. You let go of her clit and flatten your tongue, letting her use you.
“Yes—” she gasps, mouth opening, and you would be seeing her face twist, if not for her thick bicep covering her face. The veins in her arm are ticking, and you notice that her ab muscles are clenching, too, so you reach up slowly, sliding your palm over her sweaty chest, and running your thumb over her tense skin, hoping to soothe the tension.
“Abs,” you whisper, slowing your pace. “Mmh?” she hums, and you slide your fingers further, dragging them over her tits. “Relax,” you hush, and she laughs, the sound bursting from her throat before it breaks into a breathy moan as you switch up -- twist your tongue around her clit, rotating between swirling and sucking, swirling, and sucking until she lets go of your hair completely.
Has to fidget -- can’t lay still. She’s arching her back, clutching the duvet, then grabbing your hair again, sobbing your name, over and over, as you suck and swirl at her swollen clit. Watching her lose control is intoxicating. It’s forcing an ache to build between your thighs, but not as strong as Abby’s, who’s moaning and cursing.
“Keep doing that – keep doing that baby, ‘s’ fucking good. Please, please don’t fucking stop, shit.”
God, it’s so hot – stopping has never crossed your mind.
“’um ‘gonna come,” she whispers, so quiet that you have to strain to hear it. But then, she’s shaking her head, changing her mind. “Don’t wanna – don’t wanna come, 'cause I don’t want it to stop.” “You can come—” you grant, sucking her wetness into your mouth and spitting it back into her cunt. Abby whimpers, not daring to look. Though, she does when you declare, “—um’ not gonna stop.”
Cranes her neck up, then immediately regrets it. You’ve got one hand on her hip, and the other is between your thighs, where you’re steadily grinding against it. She’s speechless for a second, just, watching you grind your cunt into your knuckles, and then she’s asking, “Are you touching yourself?”
Heat floods your body for a fleeting beat, but then you’re moaning into her pussy, nodding, saying, “you’re so fucking hot, Abs. Mm’ sorry.”
Mean Abby would have chastised you, but this is the thankful Abby, this is the Abby who shakes her head, laughs, and says, “Shit, and you wonder why I don’t leave you alone.” “Don’t,” you immediately respond. You can sense her confusion, so you decide to be honest. “Don’t leave me alone. I like – like having you around, like people seeing us together,” you admit. Like it when she’s in earshot. When she buys you drinks and helps you out. When she refuses to let you go on runs without her, not because you can’t do it, but because why should you? When she can do it with you.
Like it when she hands you the big gun, kisses your forehead and says, be safe. When she picks you over all the grown, muscular men in the team, not out of loyalty, but because she trusts you, more than anyone she’s ever met before. 
You’re fueled with passion – a desire for her, and it forces you to drag your fingers from her hip and under your chin, palm up, before pushing your middle finger into her cunt.
Abby groans, loud — the bellow of it echoing against the walls, and she moans as she gushes over your lips. You taste her; suck her into your mouth before you say, I like belonging to you, Abby, and Abby fucking sobs. 
Whimpers like a wounded animal, whimpers like it hurts, says, say that again, please say that again. And so, you do. Moan it into the wet heat of her, your lips swollen, and your chin soaked. Try to imprint the words onto her skin, so she’ll never doubt herself again.
“It’s gonna be big –” she sobs, hiccuping the words, “--can feel it in my fucking chest.”
She drags her arms up, hands clutched together above her head so her elbows rest on her forehead, and you watch her mouth twist, jaw clench, then she’s cursing, gasping, saying, “shit – um’ gonna--” and she does.
Comes all over your mouth and chin, wet and hot, and loud. You lap her up, tasting the salt and spit and hearing her sob your name with a complete lack of self-awareness. It rings in your ears, makes you laugh – prideful – and Abby gasps one, too, but the sound morphs into a whine as you drag out the sensitivity, overstimulating her with your mouth and fingers.
When it gets too much for her, she grunts a curse, her hand coming down to grab your head and she uses a fist full of your hair to pull you away. You look up at her, cheeks glistening, and grin.
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unnerving-presence · 1 year
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If you're taking requests could you do killers (preferably including Wesker) with an s/o who's very affectionate and likes to lay on their chest? I just want to bury my face in their man titties sometimes LMAO
wesker’s stars skin is my fav and i will cherish it forever his cute lil glasses make me want to kiss him on his stupid little face pls
also i only have the brain capacity to do wesker and pyramid head bc i am not feeling well today. sorry
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Albert Wesker:
Contrary to popular belief, he is quite fond of affection. While he generally doesn’t go out looking for it, he is not opposed to it and doesn’t have any problems reciprocating those feelings in his own way. Hugs and kisses? Sure, he knows what to do. Burying your face in his chest? Well, this is both cute and concerning to say the least. Holding his face in your hands and talking to him like he’s a stray dog? Actually, what does he even do at that point?
While Albert gives affection to a lesser degree than you, he tries his best to use his actions to show how he feels, even if he’s better with words. If you’re looking particularly adorable one day and you decide to give him a kiss, he’ll gently caress your cheek with his thumb for a brief moment. Even if you simply want to give him kind words or even a gift, he will not allow you to leave his side for the next hour, opting to gently rest his hand on your waist as he does his work.
Even the slightest of smiles crosses his face when you greet him after a trial and say goodbye to him when you are called for one. It’s quite amusing watching you give him every single type of kiss on all parts of his body before leaving, especially when sometimes all you want to do is bury your face in his chest and attempt to motorboat. He still never understands that..
Wesker understands the concept of being as affectionate as you are, but he himself will not understand how you can give so much of it in a short amount of time. You really have the energy to dish out 15 kisses, 6 hugs, a particularly suggestive way of holding his belt while looking at him with a smile, a titty squeeze, and a face squish like you’re a grandma who hasn’t seen her grandchild in 20 years in just 10 minutes?? He doesn’t see the appeal in doing it, but he will certainly not complain about receiving it. Except for the face squish. Stop it.
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Pyramid Head:
Dude barely understands affection so he will not mind you laying on his chest. It’s calming that you’re so close to him.. but why..? Also, why are your hands squeezing his pecs? This is nice and confusing at the same time for him. He’ll get used to it eventually. I think..
Over time Pyramid Head has learned how to properly give affection back to show you that he cares. You give him a hug, he’ll gently rest a hand on your back. You give him a kiss, a content rumble will be heard from him. You tell him how much you love him, he will gently press his head against yours. It’s not a whole lot but he tries to make it evident that he is does somewhat understand and enjoy your loving actions. He still sometimes bonks you on the head when he attempts to give you a makeshift kiss and even ends up making quite a terrifying noise when he tries to let you know that he’s happy. I mean.. he’s got the spirit. Hopefully his way of apologizing (random trinket he found on the ground) will make you forgive him.
After you come back from a trial is his favorite when it comes to you giving affection. You look so relieved to be back with him and it’s quite adorable watching you hug him and tell him about how your day went. During these moments he begins to understand why you want to be so close to him. It’s hard for him to grasp, but he has a feeling that he wants to be close to you, too.. even if that consists of following you around like a lost puppy. He’s trying his best!
Pyramid Head is still trying to understand exactly why he enjoys the things you do and is still often confused as to why you do them. He understands affection to a certain degree, but frankly he will never understand why you enjoy smushing your face into his chest and calling them boobs, nor will he understand why you call him ‘babygirl’.
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untitledmemes · 4 months
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Hazbin Hotel Prompts
Part I An assortment of prompts taken from the series Hazbin Hotel on Amazon Prime. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. In case of Multimuse, don't forget to specify which one/s. Reblog, please do not repost or add.
“ Oh, shit. Did you hear all of that? ”
“ I enjoy your theatrics. ”
“ I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work. ”
“ Well hello there, you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? ”
“ Your last attempt at salvation starts here. ”
“ Thank you so much for making this. Seriously. Amazing. ”
“ Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it? ”
“ Sex sells, don't it? ”
“ I really don't want to exploit you in that way. ”
“ This body was made to be exploited. ”
“ I could keep goin' all night, baby. ”
“ Why do you think I'm here? ”
“ I like being forced. ”
“ I'm choosing to be here, and I think it's all stupid. ”
“ That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it? ”
“ Just because nobody made it out before, doesn't mean it's not possible. ”
“ There's just no way I could blow it, not this once in a lifetime chance. ”
“ It's a happy day in hell. ”
“ Ha! I fucking got you!. ”
“ So, I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. ”
“ I need you to be less horny, if possible. ”
“ I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit! ”
“ So, anyway, we fucked and it was awesome. ”
“ Fucking love putting my name on shit. Shit's the best. ”
“ Alright, um, maybe we can try and fix it in post. ”
“ Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm? ”
“ I wouldn't try that, my dear. ”
“ I don't care who or what you are. If you're staying here, you are going to make this work. ”
“ Awesome job, danger tits. Pound it. ”
“ Those are my people. You know that, right? ”
“ They had their chance and they earned damnation. ”
“ How does that feel? To know how little you matter. ”
“ Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time. ”
“ Did I hear you imply they don't deserve death? ”
“ It means we're all royally fucked. ”
“ We should just go down there now and destroy them. ”
“ Oh please, you had less than half a chance when you started all this. ”
“ Well, it's not like people are going to show up at our doorstep. ”
“ Now that's good television. ”
“ Whatever could be the problem, my dear? ”
“ Fuck my life. ”
“ I have a fire to put out upstairs. ”
“ Well, looks like you have everything under control here. ”
“ Take care of the piss baby. ”
“ That fucking slut walked out on me. ME. I fucking made him! ”
“ Which of these makes me look sexier? ”
“ What are you doing? You're not going over there. ”
“ Now that's why they pay you the big bucks. ”
“ I think he's had enough. ”
“ Thank you... For letting your guard down! ”
“ Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. ”
“ That fucker is back! ”
“ You still pissed he almost beat you that time? ”
“ Things changed a lot since he left town. ”
“ Welcome home. I'm gonna make you wish that you stayed gone. ”
“ Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? ”
“ Where's he been? Who gives a shit? ”
“ You old timey prick, I'll show you suffering. ”
“ I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone. ”
“ How exactly are we supposed to stop it? ”
“ Who would want to use their last days not fucking and fighting? ”
“ I didn't come looking for a fight. ”
“ Aren't you supposed to protect this place? ”
“ I give you a week. Tops. ”
“ It's nice to have someone interested for once. ”
“ Never leave me again. ”
“ I definitely remember you now. ”
“ It's great, right? Keep going. ”
“ The only cool thing has is to say no to drugs. ”
“ I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage! ”
“ You like me. You really like me! ”
“ You actually think you can change? ”
“ You slippery little shit! ”
“ I fucking knew there was something shitty about you. ”
“ Get your aggressively average body off of me! ”
“ This little bitch is a traitor! ”
“ Wait, you were caught? It hasn't even been a day! ”
“ The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts, but sorry is where it starts. ”
“ Why are you so lame? ”
“ You'll have to try better than that next time, ol' pal. ”
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biaonww · 4 months
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"11:58 pm" reo mikage based • angst with... (hehe yall can guess for this one)
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may contain errors, similar content is coincidental.
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five years together, huh?
it was your anniversary today, with reo. you gave so much effort to get ready, setting the table, and cooking all his favorite foods. 
but no, he did not come. 
instead of him coming home, to be with you, his fiancè — there was a picture of him circulating on twitter, that he was caught holding another woman’s hand in public.
after that seeing that, you grip your phone tightly. all teary eyed, looking at the ring he bought you. i mean, what happened to loyalty? to trust? you have been here with him with all his hardships — his family, soccer, hell. even his relation with nagi. 
it just made you want to rot inside. a five year relation, just to lose this after knowing some random lady at a party?
but then again, what were you to do? he was rich, of course everyone would want him. but you never considered loving his wealth, you loved him. his whole entire being, you have loved devotedly. 
you decide to get up, packing your things in some random duffel bag. but you get interrupted by the sound of the door — it was reo. 
“it’s 11:58 pm.”
“you said you’d come home by 6.”
“love, let me explain—“
you turn to look at him, sobbing.
“explain?! explain that you were cheating on me?!”
“yes, it may be that. but you know i love you!”
“love me? really? but you chose to hold some random woman’s hand, than going home to celebrate our anniversary?!”
“you can have this stupid ring back. give it to her instead, since that’s what you want to lose our relation to.”
“don’t you dare remove that ring y/n.”
you look at him, daringly removing the engagement ring. 
“why not? i’m still here, but you aren’t explaining anything. so that does mean our relation isn’t important to yo-“
“no, it is! i may have spend one night with her, because i was stressed with work— the corporation. okay?!”
“then why won’t you tell me?! i’m here for you! you know that, and i always have been!”
“i didn’t tell you because i was afraid you’d leave. and it feels like words are stuck in my throat.”
“but that— that’s no excuse to cheat.”
you look at reo, a sobbing mess. 
“i know that.”
he says in a soft tone, and slowly goes towards you, and wrap his arms around your waist. he lifts one of his hands to your face, wiping your tears. he always thought you looked so beautiful, but not in this way. especially since he was the one that hurt you.
the one that caused you to cry. 
“please, forgive me. give me one more chance to prove myself to you. i’ll work on myself, and if i mess up, you can cut all ties with me.”
you nod hesitantly, crying on his shoulder while hugging him tightly. 
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surprisingly, he did change. it may have took you some time to let him gain your trust again, but it was worth it. 
he expressed himself more, took you out on dates more like you deserved to, comforted and loved you in the right way. 
sure, there were still some ups and downs in your relation. 
but after standing with him in the alter alongside the priest right now, and him looking at you as if he adored you in so many ways…
you knew it wasn’t important to think about in that moment. 
because no human being is perfect. and also because he is the one you love. the man you envision your whole life with, the one you will be with til death do you two apart. 
“i do. i want him to be my husband.”
— fin.
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alt ending for the angst lovers <3 three months past… but he still never goes back to home early. 
there was a recent article posted exactly on 9:26 pm, that the woman he met a few months ago had a ring on her finger. similiar to the engagement ring you and reo have. 
a coincidence? no. you knew it wasn’t. 
you were just deluding yourself, because you wanted to cling onto this sick love you and him have. 
so you decide to pack your things, and leave that same night you found out. 
because a cheater, is always an cheater, right?
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reo comes home to the penthouse he and you owned. it lost all the warmth it had. the smell of your perfume wasn’t present anymore, your fluffy slippers you used wasn’t present as well. 
all your things was gone. your pictures with him were missing—and more.
and the promise ring he gave to you was placed on the dining table. it still had that same bling it had,
but it always seemed to shine more when you wore it.
… but he knew. that he was too late. because he knew you’d never come back to him. 
once a fragile gem breaks, it can never be glued back together.
— fin.
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i made a special ending for this !! so i hope it's good <3 reblogs, follows and likes are very appreciated :) rin fic might come out tmr!! i think, if i don't get busy that is!!
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obeymematches · 12 days
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♡How to keep Satan obsessed♡
Yall been liking my posts from 2021 and it reminded me that i started doing this series-
● Okay the worst thing you can do is try to control him. Tell him what to do and how to do it and that's the last straw before he loses interest. Yes he is very independent and he loves his freedom. Telling him to "text/call when you get there" is also more negative than positive.
● Regarding independence, he also prefers you being your own person, not really depending on him. See you don't have to be a houseowner, you don't have to ask him for permission to spend time together, that's not what I mean, but if you center your life around him he is going to feel overwhelmed.
● He also has a hard time tolerating jealousy. Aren't you grown? Don't you trust him? Why do you have to make a fuss? You are supposed to know him better than this. He would never cheat on you even if his hands are forced to. He doesn't like anyone so if he likes you; you are supposed to feel special & not attack him with things that didn't even happen. Peak stupidity in his eyes.
● Pretending to listen to him but not actually paying attention; instead of that just tell him you don't care, something else is occupying your mind right now and he is being too much. That sounds rude but it is still better than him wasting his breath. He gladly comforts you if you are actually upset; or if you just genuinely don't care it's better that he knows.
● Keep your interactions with people he dislikes to the bare minimum. It might be better for his soul to heal and make peace in the long run - but you are not supposed to force him! You have nothing to do with his beef in any of the cases. Let him be his own man in his own pace. He might never forgive someone and that's also ok! Don't try to change him; but if he needs it be there to support him!
● With him you'll need good communication skills. Being passive aggressive turns him off quickly. Don't even think of the silent treatment. He'll just break up then and there. If you are upset with him/anything and need to be left alone to think for a while, just tell him exactly that! Good communication also includes telling him with your own words that you love and appreciate him! Makes him feel confident! Reassurance is always a good point!
● He definitely enjoys well-thought-of surprises. It could be a handmade gift, doesn't have to be anything extravagant. Just spoil him from time to time, it really does make him feel appreciated!
● idk how to put this but i think he doesn't like horoscopes and crystals as he is trying to be the most rational person to ever exist, so he doesn't like topics like these at all. Personality types are on thin ice also. It's not a total turn-off for him but if you base your entire life around these things he is not going to be interested for long.
● I think it is obvious but he likes his partner to have opinion on lots of things. Hold a proper conversation about intellectual stuff. You don't have to have ambitions or things to achieve in life but if you usually reply "i dunno about that", "never-ever heard of it", that's not gonna end well.
●Yes he is introverted but that doesn't mean he sits at home 24/7 - sometimes he loves going to places, doing and experiencing life, and if he constantly has to nag you to go on a date he is going to get bored fast. It's OK if sometimes you'd rather stay in, don't get me wrong, but literally never going anywhere/only going if he argues about it, is a red flag.
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leoleolovesdc · 1 year
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How I interpretate Jason Todd's post-death life
In canon, Jason Todd is legally dead and uses a fake identitiy to go around and do normal life stuff, but in what I consider to be my "Main AU" after the events of Under the Red Hood and many other not-so-friendly interactions between Jason and the fam, they finally managed to get into a truce-state.
While this "truce" didn't mean that they were on good terms it basically consisted that they would not bother each other. Meaning that Jason does his thing in his part of the city and the Bats can't bother him about it just as he can't go around attacking them in his seek for petty revenge against the family. Cough, cough. Titans Tower.
But when Jason finally decided to forgive Bruce, he didn't reach out to him in a normal way. No, no, no! This man decided to simply show up at the GCPD, unmasked, no suit, no nothing, find a random officer and just go:
"Hi, I'm Jason Todd. Yeah, that Wayne kid who died four years ago. Can you call Bruce, please? He needs to come pick me up."
Basically, he arrived at the police station claiming to be a dead child. No one believed him, of course, but he insisted that they made a DNA test. When it came back saying it was a match no one really knew what to do.
Jason claimed to be suffering from amnesia, that he had just woken up a couple months ago in Ethiopia (the place he died) confused and not knowing exactly what had happened. He told them that he was very lost, but after talking to people and working to get some money and free rides, he managed to find his way back to Gotham.
And this stupid mother fucker knew that the cops would go search for holes in his story, so before doing all of this he actually went to Ethiopia and executed all of the steps in his lie so there would be people who saw and helped him at the right time to back his story up.
Even with the "evidence" Jason made up the police didn't buy this story, neither did the goverment, but what could they even do? The DNA test was a match, after all. So they kinda just called Bruce to tell him that his son was there.
And like, obviously it wasn't a surprise to the family. Everyone knew that Jason was alive and had become the Red Hood, so when aproximately 15 Waynes arrived at the police station sobbing it was because they knew that in Jason Todd language, claiming back his civilian identity meant that he wanted to be a part of the family again.
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hellfirexwhore · 1 year
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Come Back To Me - E.M.
BestFriend!Eddie Munson x reader
This is the first thing I have posted on here and the first fic I have written in a very long time, I hope you enjoy! 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied / posted as original work on any platform.
After an argument with your best friend Eddie, you're left wondering what it is that you did to set him off. You feel it might be something deeper than just not liking a guy that asked you out, but is Eddie going to have the nerve to say it?
Hurt/Comfort, Use of Y/N, Friends to lovers, Verbal fight
Wordcount: 2.8k
Memories of the night before cloud your mind as you wipe down the counters in your apartment, attempting to distract yourself with tasks and chores. You've already swept the floors, finished the laundry, and cleaned out the fridge, yet your mind is still lingering on the stupid fight you and your best friend Eddie had. The feeling of heartache won't go away, the anxiety growing more present as the hours pass. 
You and Eddie had never fought like that before. The look in his eyes as his voice raised was something you never wanted to see from the person who usually brings you the most comfort. You said some things you shouldn't have out of hurt and anger, he said some things he shouldn't have, and it all ended with him leaving your place in a huff, cutting the conversation off himself with no resolution. Being the stubborn man he is, you're unsure if he would even reach out and apologize. You knew you owed him an apology as well but the way the fight blew up is still something so confusing to you, and you don't even know if you should be the one to ask for forgiveness first. 
"So, I have some exciting news!" You say, passing a soda to Eddie before plopping down next to him on your couch, folding your legs underneath your body. He raises his eyebrows as if to ask you to go on, and gushing, you do. "You know that guy who's always flirting with me at work? Matt? Well I was cashing out his tab yesterday and he finally asked me out! Can you believe it?"
The messy-headed boy blinks a few times, processing what you've told him and tries to remember exactly who this Matt guy is. All of the sudden, it clicks. He furrows his brow as he pictures the douche constantly looking down your shirt and winking at you from across the bar. Eddie knows you don't notice his gross antics, conveniently for Matt, only noticing the sweet words and generous tips. 
"You mean the guy who brings a different girl to your bar every other weekend and stares at your tits the whole time?" Eddie huffs, eyes widening trying to get his point across. You look at him, puzzled. 
"What do you mean? He does not stare at my tits, and he's dating around, who cares? He's in his 20s, I'm in my 20s, it's what we do." You respond, disappointed that he's being so negative immediately. He's not even pretending to be excited for you like you have to pretend to be every time he says he has a date or one of your coworkers slips him her number. 
"Y/N, come on. He's a total tool." He sets his soda on the coffee table and crosses his arms, obviously annoyed. You didn't expect this reaction from him. 
"You can at least pretend to be happy for me, you know." You mutter, focusing your attention on your hands, not looking at his irritated face. He scoffs, shaking his head at you, still looking at your face though you refuse to look at his. 
"Happy that he finally got what he wanted and he's going to just get into your panties and then never speak to you again? Yeah, I'm elated." 
"Really Eddie? You think I'm just going to sleep with him? He asked me to get coffee, like a real date. I was excited about it." 
"You can be excited about it, but I know what's going to happen and I guess I just didn't think you were this naïve." 
That's where it exploded. The hurt look on your face must have gone unnoticed because he didn't let up. Over the next 15 minutes at least, words were thrown like stones, voices were raised, and by the time Eddie was called a dick and you were called a crybaby, the argument was too far gone. You didn't even fully process what had happened until your front door was slammed with Eddie on the other side of it, storming toward his van. 
Now here you are, alone and sad in your kitchen clutching a rag. You can't wrack your brain enough to find a reason why he would be so upset that you have a date with a guy he doesn't even know. You're not stoked about the dates he's been on or the girls he's been with, but you push that to the side for the sake of the friendship. Now that it's your turn, you expected some sort of positivity, fake or not. 
You've been harboring feelings for your best friend for as long as you can remember, but all of those feelings were pushed to the side years ago when you realized he would never feel the same way. If he did, he would have said something by now, so why hold on to something that won't happen? 
Hours passed and it felt like an eternity since you'd last seen your favorite person. The attempt to distract yourself has been a total failure all day, but at least your home was cleaned top to bottom. Nothing can get the words he said to your out of your mind and you were certain you would be thinking about it until you saw him again. 
Before you knew it, it was 10pm. You headed into your bathroom to attempt to make yourself more comfortable and get ready to cozy up for the night. Without thinking, you threw on one of Eddie's old Sabbath shirts he left at your place, a pair of black cotton shorts, and some comfortable socks that bunch around your ankles. After pulling your hair up messily into a clip, you hear a timid knock on your door. You can practically feel your stomach drop to the floor as you pad across your apartment to the front door. You peek out of the peep hole and to your surprise, an anxious looking Eddie is standing there. He's playing with his rings, twisting them on his fingers. 
You slowly unlock the door, taking a deep breath before you open it completely, taking a good look at your best friend standing there in an old Hellfire tee shirt and a pair of red and black pajama pants. 
"Hi." He says quietly, carefully stepping across the threshold when you open the door further to let him in. You close the door behind him and turn to see he's looking at your face, waiting to see if you're still mad at him. 
"I didn't think I'd hear from you today." You respond, walking to the couch to sit down, leaving room for him beside you. He sighs and takes the empty seat, still fidgeting with his rings, a nervous tick he's had for years. 
"I was going to go to bed but I've been thinking about this all day and I couldn't go to sleep again knowing you're upset with me." He's looking at you through the thick curtain his bangs create across his forehead, looking vulnerable and sad. You can't help but get lost in his baby cow eyes, but you're still unsure of what you're going to say to him. 
"I don't even know what I'm supposed to say, Eddie. I've been thinking about it all day too, sick to my stomach about it." It's true. You had been close to dry heaving since you woke up this morning, a knot in your stomach refusing to leave, solid as a rock, sitting as a burden. 
You don't like conflict, especially with the person you trust and love the most, yet here you are having to face the conflict itself as it sits in front of you looking like a scared puppy. Either tackle it now or it'll be left unresolved and make you sick for days to come, hell, even weeks. 
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten upset with you, I should have told you how I felt without getting mad." Eddie wants to grab your soft hands and hold them in his calloused ones. He wants to grab your face and drill his point into your pretty head of how sorry he is for getting so upset. You didn't deserve it. He knew that. He knew it was his stupid feelings getting in the way and he knew that if he let you go out with this Matt guy, he would end up with you crying on his couch, and that's something he can't stomach again. 
Eddie has seen you date other guys before, none of them ending particularly well, and he picks up the pieces of your broken heart each time, never one single complaint leaving his lips. A much as he loves you coming to him for comfort because he wants to give it, it shatters his heart to see you hurt. That's what's so fucked up about this. Instead of cleaning up someone else's mess, he needs to clean up his own because for once, he's the reason for your sadness.
"We both said things we didn't mean, Eds. I just don't understand where it all came from." It's your turn to fidget with your fingers, looking down at your hands and focusing on the chipped, dark green polish. You made a mental note to repair your manicure, but that can wait for a time you're not on the verge of tears. 
"Look, I'm happy someone asked you on a date and I would have been more supportive if it was anyone but him." Eddie replies softly. He seems genuine and solid in his opinion of the guy who made a move on you. You feel there's something deeper going on here, an alternative reason as to why he rubbed Eddie the wrong way, but maybe it was simply just Eddie trying to protect you. 
"What do you have against Matt? You've never even spoken to him. I don't understand." You say, looking up at the fuzzy-haired metalhead. Eddie shakes his head before he continues.
"He keeps an eye on you so I keep an eye on him. I know how he treats his dates. I see the way he looks at you and it's gross, Y/N. I got angry with you and I shouldn't have. If you saw the way he is when you're not looking, you would never have agreed to go out with him. You're not naïve, I'm sorry I said that." You don't notice the way Matt ogles you, even when he has a girl with him, but Eddie does. You don't notice the way he doesn't even pretend to care about whatever his date is saying to him, but Eddie does. You don't notice how he makes comments about your body under his breath, but of course, Eddie does.
"I didn't know.." You shake your head, grossed out by the way you were so blind to the way a guy who's been flirting with you for months, making you feel good about yourself, is actually a shitty guy and it wasn't just Eddie being ironically judgmental. 
"I know, sweetheart. I just get protective over you. You, Wayne, and Dustin are the most important people in my life and I just couldn't let you get treated badly by some asshole. That's no excuse though, and I really am sorry."
"I'm sorry too, Ed. I know you're just looking out for me." You place your hands on his, keeping his fingers in one place since he can't stop absentmindedly picking at them. He looks at your hands and sighs, running a thumb over the silky skin of the top of your hand. 
"No, don't apologize. I was a total douche last night and I don't feel good about it. I promise the next time you get a date, as long as he's not a predatory asshole, I'll pretend to be happy and give you the support you need." He doesn't even realize what he had said, but even if he did, it's too late to turn back now. He had been planning to say something for a while since pretending his feelings for you don't exist hasn't helped him one bit over the years. Everyone sees it but you, and he can't understand how but he kicks himself for feeling the way he does. 
"Pretend? Eddie, why would you need to pretend?" Confusion washes over you, and a little bit of hurt. If Eddie was your friend, your best friend at that, why would he need to pretend to be happy for you? Is he worried that someone else would take away from your time together? You've made it clear that you wouldn't let someone steal you away. He should know that by now.
"Look, I've been talking to Dustin and he told me to stop being a pansy, so here I am, not being a pansy." Eddie takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he opens them and catches yours in his gaze. He adores the confused look on your face, but can't keep this in anymore. "I don't want you to go on dates with other guys, Y/N." 
"I need you to think about what you're saying to me right now and how you're saying it." This isn't happening. You must be misunderstanding because there is no way Eddie is implying what you think he is.
"I know exactly what I'm saying and the way you invaded my mind today just solidified it. I need to get this off of my chest. I don't want you to date other guys because... I want you to just date me." He's speaking slowly, not because he's trying to dumb it down for you, but because he wants to be very clear in what his words mean. He wants you to know just how much he means this.
"Wh- huh?" Your mind is racing. The knot in your stomach is unraveling, but it's jumping around like a child on a trampoline. 
"I know, okay I'm not trying to make it weird. I know you're my best friend and I shouldn't be saying this to you and if you want, I can just leave, we can go back to normal, and pretend this conversation never happened. I'll get over you, it will just take some time, I'm sorry." He shakes his head, looking back down at your joined hands, pulling his away. You stop him before he can fully break the contact of your skin that's now suddenly burning at the touch. 
"Don't." You say abruptly. 
"What?" Eddie quickly looks back up at you and sees the soft look in your eyes. He searches them for any trace of doubt. 
"Don't get over me." You've never imagined yourself being so bold. You've never even imagined having this conversation with Eddie. 
"What are you saying?" What he's really asking is if you're messing with him. He's asking if you're confused, or misunderstanding, or playing some cruel joke on him. 
"I'm saying I want you. Jesus H Christ, I've wanted you for years but I never said anything because I didn't want to freak you out and ruin what we have." You've never seen Eddie's eyes light up so quickly. He looks like he's just been gifted Ozzy Osbourne in a box on his birthday. 
"What?! We could have been making out this whole time?!" He grasps your hands even tighter as you burst into laughter. Your giggles are music to Eddie's ears and he's just beaming.
"Eddie oh my god." You lean forward, the laughter subsiding. You place your forehead against his and you can feel his breath fan your face. You're still in shock. 
"I can't even tell you how fast my heart is beating right now. I think I might pass out." He breathes out. He laughs softly, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. 
"We can't both have heart attacks right now!" You say, smiling bigger than you have in a long time. You both just sit there for a few minutes, really taking in everything that's happening. This doesn't feel real, everything you've wanted for so long coming to be something that actually exists. Eddie wonders how he got this far without passing out or hyperventilating but for now, you're just relishing in each other. 
"So.. About the whole making out thing.." Eddie murmurs, his hands traveling to your hips and giving them a squeeze. 
"Shut up and kiss me, nerd." 
So he does. 
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elasticitymudflap · 8 months
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god, okay. fuck. i hate to say that i really underatand where simon's coming from, like, with his misunderstanding of betty and their relationship. because, well, autism. he's obviously used to being alone and people thinking he's stupid and weird, and is just very passive in his approach to other people in general. i know that feeling. it's a barrier you build around yourself to get through a world that refuses to understand you, and by this point you're so used to getting burned from making social missteps that you eventually stop trying to vocalize your own feelings and desires, so you're perpetually waiting for the other person to make the first move so you can follow:
'this cool girl i met has read my work and is really into it, she's so smart and even sees things in it that i missed! and she really wants to come with me on this next expedition? oh wow, okay, great! i mean, she's so excited about it she basically dropped her own plans and invited herself along, so this is clearly something she really wants to do! who would i be to deny her that?'
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'and wow is she ever great! on our expedition together she always knows how to handle obstacles, she doesn't even need my help! i really should be following her lead, she really knows what she's doing so much better than me! i'm so glad she wanted to be here and help me!'
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'i can't believe we found the enchiridion together! but she doesn't want to come along with me and take credit for its discovery? even though she helped me out so much and is so incredible and i really really like her- wait!! i shouldn't say that last part!! that would be really weird!! i don't want to make things weird!! she had a good time, and since all of this was her choice i won't try to stop her or make her feel bad or do something she doesn't want to. best to keep it professional.'
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'oh hey! she left a note for me in that book i was going to check out, god she's so funny-wait. oh my god, SHE thinks we had something special too??! she says she's going on that trip, but she wishes she could travel the world with me??! she even gave me her address so i can come find her??! okay, mesage received, I GOTTA GO TALK TO HER!!!'
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'uh oh, i don't know what to say to her, i obviously said the wrong thing just now and she thinks i don't feel the same way. i know she feels embarassed about the letter. i'll tell her letter was great!! it was incredible!! i want her to know that i want exactly what she wants, and that i feel the same way about her, i'll even say it to her the same way she did!!'
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all i'm saying is... from somebody of This specific perspective, i can totally see why he didn't question her not getting on the bus, dropping everything to come with him, and all of her other desicions she made in ooo:
'okay i'm FINALLY going to apologize to betty for how the crown made me scare her away 1000 years ago! wait, hang on, she seems really confused that i'm saying goodbye to her?'
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'oh no, we're running out of time but she feels really bad about the fact that she left me!! no, it's okay!! i want you to know that love you, and i forgive you for leaving me!! please don't feel bad about it!!'
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to him, betty is unquestionably strong, competent, capable, and confident in everything she does. if she didn't want to do something she simply wouldn't do it, much the same way that he knows she would move heaven and earth if she wanted to make something happen; and who would he be if he didn't give her the chance to let her try? he simply doesn't PERCIEVE her to be insecure, overly self sacrificing, and in need of him to be a lot less passive about her choices, the way that someone from the outside looking in obviously can.
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autism4autism couple my FUCKING beloved.
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eyestrain-addict · 10 months
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I just realized why lestat marked Tom, like the big stupid idiot I am
(I know everyone else probably already figured this out, but this is MY blog and I get to post whatever deranged thought crosses my pea brained mind.)
When I watched that scene in episode 5 where they're at the bar talking to Tom, I was confused as to why exactly. Why does Lestat mark Tom? If he's marked to kill, why does he wait almost 2 decades later? Well I realized, as all realizations come, in the shower.
Lestat has been planning on killing Tom the whole time.
(Warning before you click read more, this post is a lot longer than I first intended holy fuck)
Well not the whole time. Just right when Louis realized that Anderson and Fenwick had screwed him over. Maybe even longer if he knew it was a trick ("ridiculous of you to mix human and vampire business it always ends poorly"). Notice how he's upset with louis when he kills the guy who's microaggressive with him, cus lestat wasn't there (even if he was there I have my doubts Lestat would understand microaggressions, but he would have definitely killed him for touching Louis.) But tells Louis he's proud of him for killing Alderman. I think this has to be because he witnessed the disrespect first hand. He didn't give a fuck about the money, what he DID care about was that those two disrespected not only him, but Louis.
Even with Lestats little understanding of race relations of the time in America, he did understand hierarchys. He's from 1700s France for God's sake. It's no coincidence wanted to be king of mardi gras. Lestat came to New Orleans and saw himself as the king, even if no one knew it. And he wanted Louis to be his queen. Honestly I could make an entire other post about how Lestat almost literally saw himself as if he was a King and Louis his beloved Queen, which is why he thought it was okay for him to sleep with other women (mistresses and playthings of the king should mean nothing compared to the queen in lestats eyes) but that's getting off topic. I only bring that up because I'm trying to paint a picture of how I think Lestat sees disrespect done to Louis. To him that goes beyond disrespect or rudeness, it's irreverence.
You begin to notice if you watch scenes with them together. Because while I wouldn't say lestat is good at controlling his anger, he's definitely great at concealing it until it erupts (props to Sam Reid have to be given here) lestat is always on the verge of fury when talking to Tom. It starts as a distaste then as he begins to fall more in love with Louis and become more protective of him, his anger builds. Claudia was wrong about one thing, it was no petty slight that was the reason Lestat killed Tom first, it was a loooonng time coming.
I could list every detail I think supports this but I'm sure you get the gist by now. My main point is really the layer of complexity this adds to not only the story, the characters, but also lestat and louis' relationship. Consider it for a second, Lestat saw all his violence as justified, everything he did one can see it through the lense of him punishing the disrespectful (take a shot every time I say disrespect in this post jesus christ). "I bring death to those deserving" indeed. Lestat has a god complex out the wazoo, and every attack, torture, and death he caused was righteous to him and thus enjoyable. Louis on the other hand didn't see himself so highly. He may seem confident but if you look through the cracks it's apparent Louis's self worth in near nonexistent and he's horribly insecure. I think lestat thought when Louis was made a vampire he would see himself as Lestat saw himself, and as Lestat saw Louis. But again, another post for another time.
Despite Louis' insecurities (or perhaps because of them) louis revels in the violence lestat commits for his sake. That's probably why louis is so quick to forgive lestat about the priests. For a brief moment Lestat truly said the truth to Louis and Louis could forgive him because of it. As lestat says, he doesn't kill the priests to intimidate Louis, nor does he do it just because he enjoys it. He does it because he sees them as humiliating Louis, charlatans that don't deserve Louis' sorrow. Louis didn't want the priest's to die, but he could understand why lestat killed them, simply because for once in his goddamn life lestat told the truth, and louis loved that truth. That truth being that lestat killed and mutilated and committed such horrors not just because he liked it, but because he did it out of a fucked up sense of protection. Him killing the priests was essentially a knight killing a dragon to earn the princess' hand in marriage.
The worst part is that Lestat doesn't even realize it. Not fully anyway. Let's be honest with ourselves, lestat doesn't understand Louis. Obviously there's the race, background, culture differences that lestat doesn't understand nor seems inclined to try, but there are better posts about that made by smarter people than moi. I'm mostly talking about lestat doesn't understand louis' mind itself (louis' mind in a vacuum I suppose you could say) he understands Louis' desire for violence sure, but he doesn't understand the core of that want. Honestly I'm on the fence of if he ever understood that Louis loved it when lestat was protective in the first place. I guess it can be dumbed down to Louis wants Lestat to kill to protect Louis and to protect the family (and anyone who deeply disrepects them), lestat perhaps understood a little at one point, but since he sees everyone as a threat and everything is a slight to him, he has no trouble and qualms with delighting in the torture of people Louis views as innocent. Louis' heart is a bit dark, but ultimately human, so he's disgusted by lestats violence towards the undeserving. Lestat can no longer read Louis' mind and even if he could, Louis doesn't quite understand the difference himself (that's why he tries to hunt for criminals briefly) so the cracks of miscommunication starts to form, and neither of them even realize there is miscommunication.
Therein lies the importance of Tom Anderson for season 1. Not much of a character, more of a plot device in human skin. Claudia can see that Lestat hates him, but doesn't understand why, nor does she care to get to the depths of that. (*Mr house voice* understandable) I think it's notable that Louis rarely brought him up, he didn't understand the depths of lestats love. Nor did he know about Lestats 3 decade long grudge, all because Tom disrespected Louis.
Now I'm not excusing Lestat's actions, I just think it's interesting how this one throwaway character reveals a whole level of complexity to the relationship between him and Louis, and better sheds light on not only Lestats personal philosophy but louis' as well. Even Claudia to a degree.
Anyway, uh. End of essay. Bye.
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givemea-dam-break · 1 year
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im a sucker for lockwood x reader angst and i mean angry confessions, miscommunication and the “go ahead and leave then. everyone does, it wouldnt be a surprise if u did too” 😩😩😩
a/n: AHHHHH yes!! i'm so sorry this has taken so long to be written, and the fact I've been inactive for a week or two - it's been assignment week so i needed to focus on that unfortunately, but i hope you enjoy this! angst is my favourite thing to write lol. unfortunately, there's not much miscommunication in this, but i hope I've ticked the other boxes :)
warnings: angst, language gn reader
"Will you say something?"
You keep your head turned, staring out of the night cab's rain-covered window. Your heart is pounding, filled with rage, and you're worried that if you open your mouth, it'll come spilling out and you'll say something you'll either regret or get fired for.
Lockwood was an idiot during your case. He was reckless and impulsive, and it meant that the two of you narrowly finished it with your lives and all of your limbs in good health. You would've forgiven him if it had been a one-off, but he does this almost every single time, and it's becoming a big issue.
So here you sit, arms crossed over your chest as the cab speeds along, biting your tongue. Lockwood sits across from you, watching you with those dark eyes of his while a cut oozes blood on his forehead. Any other day, you would've patched it up immediately, but tonight he'll have to cope. You've had enough.
It doesn't take long to reach Portland Row and the taxi has barely stopped when you jump out and storm off towards the house. Lockwood is delayed a few seconds, having to pay the cabbie, but he catches up easily.
"(name), come on. Talk to me."
Wordlessly, you unlock the front door, half tempted to slam it shut in his face, but this is his house. He's got more right to be here than you.
You make to angrily climb the stairs and hide out in the attic to await Lucy's return and rant to her about Lockwood, but his hand wraps around your wrist as you reach the second step, stopping you.
"Please, (name). I can't stand it."
For a minute, you just stare at him. The blood from his cut has been smeared across his forehead, and the bags under his eyes have become a little more pronounced, but your usual sympathy has disappeared, eaten away by fury.
"What do you want me to say, Lockwood? Oh, it's okay that you almost killed yourself being so reckless tonight. You're my knight in shining armour. Or, how about: I know you promised to be reasonable tonight to make amends for all the other times you've almost killed yourself, and you didn't end up being reasonable, but I forgive you."
He looks at you, his gaze soft. His eyes are desperate, but he's got you talking which was his goal. It seems that the context of the conversation doesn't matter all that much to him.
But you don't care.
"Every single case," you say, trying to keep yourself from raising your voice, "has ended the same. We almost die or get seriously injured because you get reckless. I get it. You're trying to save us, and, believe me, Lockwood, I'm grateful for that, but what would happen if you died? Who would protect us then? Because all of this - you throwing yourself in the face of danger for us - will mean nothing if you die."
"I'm not going to let you guys get hurt," Lockwood says, and there's an undertone in his voice that gives you a clue to how he's feeling. He's getting irritated.
Good.
"And I thank you for that," you say. "But this is constant. Do you ever stop to think what we'd feel if you died? We'd be lost, Lockwood. Not to mention jobless."
"What am I meant to do? Let you get hurt? Not a chance!"
His rising anger is feeding into yours, and soon it'll be a raging fire, ready to burn everything in its wake. You have half a mind to let it loose, to tell him exactly how you feel about his stupidity, but you reign it in for now.
"Don't you hear me? I said I'm grateful that you try to keep us safe, but not at the cost of your own life!" You tear your wrist out of his grasp, breathing heavily. "Just take a minute to imagine this: you die on a case, and we have to deal with the body. We have to watch you die, and then we have to ignore the grief to not only finish the case but also make sure your body is taken away safely, that you're given a funeral. After that, a lifetime of grief and regret and denial, hoping you step through that fucking door one more time! Of all people, I thought you'd know what that kind of thinking does to a person."
His gaze hardens. "Watch yourself."
The laugh that escapes your lips is humourless. "Right, okay. I forgot. We don't talk about that topic because you're not ready, and that's fine. But it'll be me that has the burden when you die. Then George and Lucy will have to figure out how to cope, too. But we don't have a room to hide your memories away in, Lockwood. We live in a house surrounded by you."
You climb up a few stairs and point at a photo on the wall. "These pictures? They can be stashed away, but the feeling of you can't. Your soul has practically been embedded into the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Nowhere we go in this house will allow us to escape the memory of you."
His face is a little red as he watches you. He's angrier than you've ever seen him.
"So leave then."
The words feel like a punch to the stomach. "What?"
"If you're so sick of it, if the thought of my possible death is too much, then leave. Everyone does. It wouldn't surprise me if you did."
It takes all of your willpower not to scream at him. Instead, chest filled with the pressure of your fury, you make your way back down the stairs until you're eye to eye with Lockwood. He's breathing heavily now, too, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you, eyes blazing with anger but also something else... Guilt?
"You don't get to say that," you growl. "I have been here for you since the beginning. I helped you set this company up. I helped you get it licenced, and I was the one who sweet-talked our way into getting full DEPRAC insurance. I have supported every stupid decision you've made. I've questioned you, but I never pushed. And yet, you still have the gall to say that you wouldn't be surprised by me leaving?"
The anger is so strong that tears threaten to cloud your eyes, but you push them down. You will not cry.
"I've tried my hardest to make sure you stay alive." The waver in your voice is embarrassing, but something in Lockwood cracks at the sound of it. "All I do is make sure you stay alive because you're all I've had for years. I've always cared for you. I've sat and patched you up night after night because I care about you - shit, I love you, Lockwood! I always have! So, don't you even dare suggest that I would ever leave. It's as good as insulting my parents' graves."
At that, you turn on your heel and storm up the stairs, leaving Lockwood standing at the bottom.
It takes a while for you to calm down.
After cleaning yourself of all specks of blood and dirt, you change into clean clothes and sink down onto your bed, closing your eyes and trying to slow the thrumming of your heart. Your hands are shaking from a mix of rage and sadness, but they lie on your chest, easing as your heart rate slows.
It takes all of your willpower to try and not think about one of the last things you said to Lockwood - that you love him - but it proves to be harder than it should be. You didn't lie. In your years of knowing Lockwood, you've grown close to him, something that had been hard originally because of your lack of trust in people, but he charmed his way right into your life. Every smile, every touch of your fingers left your heart racing and your mind hoping, begging, that he felt the same.
Now, though, after that argument, you're almost entirely convinced that he doesn't.
When George and Lucy arrive back at the house, you trudge downstairs to the kitchen where everyone awaits to discuss the cases. Lucy's already made you a cup of tea that you accept gratefully as you sit down at the far end of the table.
Away from Lockwood.
The change in your seating is noted by everyone, your usual chair left empty beside Lockwood's at the head of the table. George frowns, glancing between you and Lockwood, and Lucy gives you a look that you ignore.
"It was a phantasm where we were," you say, scribbling away at the thinking cloth. "Well, there was that, and then there was a very angry Wraith as well. Murder victims. We dealt with them quickly."
George's eyes find the plaster on Lockwood's head, much less neatly applied than it would've been had you patched him up.
"Rawbones for us," Lucy says, sipping her tea. There's a patch on the sleeve of her jacket that smokes slightly, burned by plasm. "George found the source - a manky old mug. Made no sense. Skull was no use, either. I think he's mad at me."
"Again?" Lockwood asks. His voice isn't entirely there. "What did you do this time?"
"I didn't do anything. He's just a little prick."
You bite your tongue to stop yourself from making a snide comment. The others are watching you carefully, easily picking up on your mood, but they don't bring it up.
Lockwood's eyes haven't left you this entire time. He's trying to communicate in that silent way you both developed after years of friendship, but you tear your gaze away from his, pushing down the re-emerging fury in your chest.
"Well, we're all alive," Lockwood says, laying emphasis on the final word. "Let's get a good night's sleep. We've got a meeting tomorrow with another client."
Lucy and George get up immediately as if they were waiting for a cue to leave. They're gone in seconds, closing the kitchen door behind them. It makes no difference. You silently sip your tea, still scribbling away. Your little mess of lines has turned into an angry face.
"(name) -"
You stand, making to leave the kitchen with your mug in hand, but Lockwood blocks the door.
Staring up at him, you scowl. "Excuse me, Anthony."
There's a little smirk playing on his lips. "Using my first name? I suppose I am in trouble."
"It's nice that you think this is funny, but I certainly don't. Now, let me get past so I can go to bed. I've had enough of today."
"Please, wait." He looks down at you, his eyes soft. He doesn't seem angry anymore - that makes one of you. "Can we just... talk?"
Against your better judgement, you turn and sit back in your seat, placing one of your feet on the seat and resting your head on your knee. You're tired. Not just from the case, but from being angry.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Lockwood says, and you know he's genuine. "I saw that Wraith coming for you, and I couldn't just stand there and let you get hurt."
You sigh, more exhausted than mad now. "That's not the problem, Lockwood. You do this in every single case, even when there's no need to. Half the time, I'm not sure whether it's because you want to protect us or if it's because you want an excuse to die." Your voice catches a little.
He falters, not expecting that. Part of you wants to feel good about catching him off guard, but the topic quenches any of it. You've spent countless nights worrying that you would get up in the morning only to find Lockwood not there or scared that you'd end a case leaning over his dead body.
No one should ever have to think like that.
"I care about you a lot," you say, running a hand over your face. "You know that. But I don't think it has ever occurred to you how badly it'd affect me if you died. And, I know, I'm being selfish, but I don't want to have to live in a world without you in it."
He's silent for a moment. "I'm sorry - about what I said earlier. I didn't mean it."
You barely have the willpower to shrug. "We were both angry. People say stuff they don't mean when they'd angry."
"So, you don't mean what you said? About loving me?"
It's hard to not look at him, but you focus your gaze on the thinking cloth, tracing the messy writing and doodles with your fingers. There are a few coffee and tea stains covering it.
"I meant it." Your mouth feels dry, so you take another sip of your tea. "I meant everything."
The only sound is of both of your breathing and Lockwood's foot tapping rhythmically on the tiled floor. He's nervous.
"I don't expect you to feel the same," you clarify. "To be honest, I hadn't meant to say it right then. If I had my way, I wouldn't have said it at all unless I was sure you felt the same. But, it's out there now."
Lockwood's chair screeches against the floor and, suddenly, he's kneeling beside you, moving so that he can catch your eyes. That stupid grin of his has parted his lips. His hand grasps yours softly, and you can feel his pulse faintly. It's faster than it should be.
"Don't look so smug," you grumble. "I don't forgive you, so I don't see what you have to be cocky about."
His grin only widens. "I'll show you what."
And then his lips have captured yours.
It's a short kiss, no longer than a few seconds, but it's enough to have your stomach performing a whole gymnastics routine. The anger in your chest slowly fades away until it's nothing but a small prickle, still there but nowhere near as powerful as it was.
His lips are startlingly soft, but, really, you wouldn't put it past him to be applying chapstick every waking second. He always wants to be camera-ready. Your eyes have fluttered shut, and, by the feeling of his lashes brushing your cheeks, it seems his have also. You wonder if his brain is throwing a party, too.
When he pulls away, you find yourself wanting more. Instead, you press your forehead against his, shutting your eyes tightly for a moment.
"If that wasn't enough to convince you to stop being so self-sacrificing on cases, I honestly don't know what will."
He laughs, and the sound has your heart soaring. "I'll try my best, but if you need saving, I'll most definitely come to save you. I am your 'knight in shining armour' after all."
His gaze is already locked on yours when you open your eyes again. The darkness of his eyes entraps you, and it's impossible to look away.
"Will you forgive me?"
A sly smile curves your lips. "Maybe if you kiss me more."
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jamneuromain · 2 months
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ohhoehoe! Dark!priest!Ari goes really well with innocent/naive!reader. Just imagine that his hands//
ALL OF THAT YOU TYPED OMG WE NEED A FIC WITH EXACTLY THAT PLOT (if you're willing) Dark!priest!Ari or Andy or Steve or Lloyd or whichever Chris' character you see more fitting 🥵🥵🥵🔥
oohhhhhh okiee so this is *temporarily* what I have in mind in headcanon (for now) but feel free to chip in
- Not specified which church so you can blend your imagination there -
(honestly I have next to little memory of this reblog lmao)
Favorite
Summary: You confess to Ari about some sinful thoughts you have in the Church.
Warning: Dark!Ari Levinson, Priest!Ari Levinson, innocent!reader, I'M PORTRAYING ARI as a predator priest don't read if YOU ARE HIGHLY RELIGIOUS. (and also the facts about church and priests could be a bit mixed up)
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Kids at the church joked that he might be Jesus, for the beard and the long hair looked similar to the ancient painting hanging on the wall.
Indeed, Ari Levinson is kindness and sympathy in a human form, saying that he started truly believing and having faith after a terrible incident that nearly took his life. He isn't from this neighborhood, but that doesn't stop him from being a part of it.
Barbeques at Winston's backyard, the annual fair in Rhinestone Park, the New Year's celebration of the local schools ... you name it, he's in. Whether to chip in from his own thin wallet or to help out pushing and moving things around.
He's a true saint. Everyone says so.
You confessed to him, after a regular Sunday morning, when the sun was blazing outside and this little church he stayed in remained a bit chilly as ever. You told him about the crush you have on one of the handsome boys in the sports team, and you fidget nervously because your parents told you it would be unholy if you had these thoughts of boys at such a young age before actually marrying someone.
He listened through your stupid little confession without any annoyance you'd seen on Father Richmond's (the older priest who actually runs the place) face, telling you in a soft silky voice that everyone sins, and they shall ask for forgiveness.
But, he winked, and whispered to you a little secret: since you are his favorite, he could pray to God later that night, and personally ask for forgiveness.
He led you to the altar and knelt with you, murmuring a string of prayers that you could only shut your eyes tightly and listen to.
You fear that God would be mad and abandon you and your family as a result - which you had told Ari prior, in detail.
"God spoke to me. He asked me to pass forward a blessing." He helped you up from the ground. The sunlight fell onto his velvety robes, creating a warm glow around him, making him look like a true saint, some might even say a miracle.
"Really?" You gasped in excitement. No one, and you mean no one has performed such wonder before, claiming that they could directly talk to God.
"Would I lie to you, darling?" He caressed your jaw fondly, his calloused thumb ran over the patch of delicate skin below your earlobe and you squirmed under his heated gaze.
"No." You whimpered, "What was the blessing, Father Levinson?"
He cradled your head and took your lips into a deep, soul-striking kiss.
"God told me he's fond of you. He has sent me to pass his future blessings on." Ari responded, softly smiling as your doe-y eyes widened in utter shock.
So shocked, in fact, that you forgot about your parents' words. They had told you before that kissing was also on the list of No-No.
"Me...?"
"Yes, darling, you." He mused, dipping his hand into the shallow bronze plate that carried holy water, drawing a mark with the dampened fingers on your forehead, "Now you should be rid of those sinister thoughts. If you have any more trouble, my office is always open for you, darling."
"Thank you, Father Levinson," You squealed, so happy to finally erase the heavy feelings off your mind.
"Anytime, darling." He clamped his hands together, kindly smiling at your happiness, "But keep this between us, will you?" He gestured to the confession and the altar, "It would be quite the fuss if the town knows about the all-loving Lord has a favorite."
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sgiandubh · 5 months
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What makes a very mature and educated woman confuse the charisma of Jamie and Claire and fall behind the illusion of Sam and Cait?
Look at this picture and many others, look at Cait's smile and the happiness in her eyes
Look at the color of Tony's lips, I don't need to continue
Below this picture are many pictures of them from many years ago
This man has been a reality since 2015, so let us accept reality even if we do not like it
Note: I would love to read everything you write aside from Outlander and S&C
Dear (b)Itchy Anon,
Ah, yes. You folks are definitely a very predictable bunch, because you simply cannot help yourself and just have to do it. Every. Single. Christmas. Eve. For reasons transparent enough to make you & your kin instantly unlikeable.
I was just thinking, the other day, believe it or not. I was thinking of the disingenuous way you - or someone like you - engaged with @cb4tb on another Christmas Eve and told myself: 'I bet the farm this year it's going to be me'. And here we are, with a rather long - and also, rather curious- comment. What am I going to do with you, Anon? Just write a rather long and ironic answer to your delirious rant, what else?
Calling me 'very mature' made me spit my Pepsi - always better in Romania than the eternal Coca-Cola - and I have to dubiously and cheaply congratulate myself, too. In about six months, you were forced to transition from 'Christ, shippers are stupid' to 'Golly, some -if not most - of them really are educated people'. An apparent paradox that never made you question your surroundings.
For instance, I do not need to wear a turban, sport a cigarette holder, rent a garish tent and call myself Miss Cleo, in order to tell with eerie precision English is not your mother tongue, either. You still do have a big problem with phrasal verbs, because you couldn't have possibly meant I 'fell behind the S&C illusion', but rather that 'I fell for that illusion'. You see, falling behind is 'failing to do something in time' or 'being late with a due payment' or 'being unable to make the same progress as one's peers'. We, shippers, naturally have this kind of superpowers. And seasoned bullshit-o-meters, too.
For your information, I haven't. I explained it at length. There is no possible way to do it if one uses common sense and street smarts only. What I did see, along with thousands of other people, mind you, had absolutely -forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin again - fucking nothing to do with Seamus and Sorcha. I mean, d'oh - is this your best argument, Anon? That sad, wilted talking point? Wow. Just wow.
Then, you totally lose control and take The Scarecrow out of the closet (yes, pun totally intended), in the hope you'll make me screech with dread & horror, I suppose. Exactly which one of the five to ten max Tait pics am I supposed to look at? The one at the marathon, where he checks her pulse? The one in Australia, when he pitifully dangles that stick on a beach? The one with the flute? The fist-in-hand one? The one at this year's IFTA, where she looks through him and he begs for a smile? I shall never know, because you do not add any picture and since I am not Miss Cleo, there's no way I could ever guess. Instead, you describe Neverland in Technicolor, lips included (so help me God, I never looked at McIdiot's lips: I take pride in being mentally sound). Indeed, there is no need to continue, Anon, lest you would insist to ridicule yourself.
This man has been a (questionably) useful prop since 2016, in order to give credence to a narrative. You all know it. You all deny it. You live in a parallel reality, currently embraced by PR. Amen. That does not give you the right to police this fandom and no, your derailed zeal will not get you any Brownie points from C.
Speaking only for myself, I will tell you one last time: I will never blindly accept a convenient compromise fiction just because TPTB and/or PR tell me so.
Note: I doubt my writing interests you. I really do, because I don't deal in fanfic. And even if I am an Oriental, know flattery never worked with me. In fact, I can't stand it.
It's Christmas. Take a break from all this pathetic hatred, Anon: if you have but a cell left of humanity in yourself, you can't possibly be proud of this message and there are far more interesting and meaningful ways to spend this special day. He came for you, too. And that is the most important thing in the world, right now.
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