#like who the hell are your trying to convince??

[aemonds-fire]

Crush

Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female (Oneshot)

Summary: Months ago Aemond hesitated to tell you how he felt. After your boyfriend breaks up with you, he won't make that mistake again.

Word Count: 3807

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, Little plot, lots of smut, profanity, Size kink, Praise kink, Aemond being hot, seductive, funny, and adorable.

Personal Favorite 💖

Masterlist

‘Why the hell did I let them talk me into coming to this club?'

You know your friends are only trying to help you get through a rough breakup. “It’s time to stop moping and sitting around in your pj’s,” they tell you. “You need to get dressed up, go out, and have some fun,” they insist. So you give in, pampering yourself with a full beauty routine, choosing a racy bra and panty set, and putting together a little black outfit.

Checking yourself in the mirror before you leave, feeling better than you have in the past two weeks, with some of your old confidence coming back knowing that you look good. When your little trio walks into the packed club, you’re glad your friends talked you into coming out tonight, instantly feeling the intoxicating energy from the flashing lights, pulsing music, and dancing crowd.

Snagging a spot at the bar, you buy the first round of drinks, genuinely smiling for the first time since your boyfriend broke up with you. You’re enjoying your second drink and playfully teasing one of your friends when you spot him on the dance floor. Your now-ex-boyfriend who has his hands on his new girlfriend’s ass.

Wanting to act like it doesn’t hurt, you let your friends drag you out to dance. You try to enjoy yourself; you really do, but now the music is too loud, the club is too hot, and you just want to get off the dance floor. Giving your friends a weak smile, you let them know you need a break from dancing and head back to the bar.

Squeezing into a gap at the crowded bar, you try to catch the bartender's attention. While you wait, your mind goes back to your ex-boyfriend. Even though the spark between you was fading, the breakup came out of nowhere. How quickly he had another girlfriend led you to think he may have been cheating on you. So strong was your suspicion, you went to get tested just to be safe. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s over, and you’re better off without him,’ you try to convince yourself, but it still hurts to be replaced so easily.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a drink is placed in front of you. When you look up, the bartender says, “It’s from the guy at the end of the bar.”

Turning to look in the direction she’s pointing, you see the buyer of your drink, his long silvery white hair an easy giveaway to his identity. With a tilt of his head, he motions for you to join him.

You’re relieved to see a friendly face, so you don’t hesitate to pick up your drink and make your way over to him. With a genuine smile, “Hi Aemond, I didn’t see you over here.”

Aemond Targaryen returns your smile and immediately offers you his seat at the crowded bar. “Fortunately, I did see you.”

“Thank you, and thanks for the drink too,” you tell him as you slide onto the stylishly modern barstool, draping your leather jacket over the back.

You’ve known the Targaryen siblings for about a year, with Helaena being the one you met first. Since you were new in town, she took you under her wing, showing you the best places to hang out and eat and introducing you to people, including her brothers. Aegon is laid-back with a great sense of humor. He’s also quite a flirt, but a playful smack from his sister made it clear that you were her friend and not to be messed with.

Aemond, who’s a few months younger than you, is very different. Nowhere near as open as Hel and far more serious than Aegon, he's always intrigued you. He’s soft-spoken and reticent, holding back much of who he is, and that makes him difficult to read. You think that guardedness stems from a childhood accident that cost him an eye and left his face scarred.

For a while, you wondered if he liked you at all or if he was just trying to be nice because of Hel. But at parties, your boyfriend usually ended up playing games with Aegon and the guys, and you somehow ended up hanging with Aemond, just talking. Having those chances to talk one-on-one, you discover quick intelligence, a wry sense of humor, and a few shared interests. You decide that he’s just naturally reserved—someone who needs time to relax around people.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I saw you,” he says, leaning down a bit to be heard better. “You look amazing."

Smiling at the compliment, “You clean up pretty good yourself."

While you’ve struggled to get a handle on his personality, there is no question in your mind regarding his looks. Dressed in black, his button-down shirt and trousers look tailored to his tall and trim build, he exudes sleek athleticism. His casually rolled-up sleeves show off his slender forearms, a stylish, expensive watch on his wrist, and beautiful, large hands with long, slim fingers. His angular face has chiseled features that give him a uniquely handsome appearance. Not even the faded scar or black leather eye patch can detract from his striking good looks. Tonight, his pale, silvery hair is simply pulled back into a loose braid that ends between his shoulder blades.

Taking a sip of your drink, you give him a curious look. “I’m surprised to see you here. Let me guess, Aegon dragged you out and then disappeared in search of something in a short skirt and heels."

“Are we that predictable?” He asks with a crooked grin. “Aegon wanted to meet up with some pretty little thing he’s had his eye on, and I apparently need to get out more.” Reaching for his own drink, ”What’s your story?”

“Some friends decided I needed a night out,” you admit sheepishly. As you answer, you see your ex-boyfriend back on the dance floor.

Aemond, noticing your stare, turns to see who you are looking at. He then moves around to stand between you and the dance floor, blocking them from your view. “Forget about him; he’s not worth it.”

You look down at your hands folded in your lap, trying to push down the hurt you feel when he urges your chin up with his fingers. He looks at you intensely and says, “Don’t cry over that asshole. You deserve far better than the likes of him, babe.”

Meeting his gaze, you nod your head and pull yourself together. ”You’re right. It may take some time, but I’ll be fine.” You down the rest of your drink with a determined smile.

Before you can stop him, Aemond somehow manages to catch the busy bartender’s attention and motions for another round of drinks. When you protest, he leans closer, putting his arm around you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m taking care of you tonight, pretty girl.”

“You'll be better than fine, and it won’t take as long as you think,” he continues with a cocky little smile. “You just need someone who knows how to treat you."

A little jolt goes through your body; whether it’s from the heat of his hand resting on your exposed shoulder or the difference in his demeanor, you’re not sure. This is a more confident and assertive Aemond that you haven’t seen before, and the little nicknames are completely new.

But unsure of your instincts, you jokingly say, “Yeah, some day my prince will come.”

“Hmm. Maybe he already has, princess,” he replies before leaning very close to you, his lips almost brushing against your ear. “I’ve always had a crush on you, always wanted you.”

His words cause a flutter in your chest. When he takes hold of your hand and starts rubbing his thumb on your skin, your breath catches in your throat. “You never said anything." is all you can manage to get out as you turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“That was a mistake I‘m not making again."

Your faces are only inches apart; you’re studying him with wide eyes while your mind races to process this new revelation. The sounds of the club disappear; all you can hear is the pounding of your heart. Closing the slight distance between you, his lips barely brush against yours before pausing, waiting for a signal from you to continue. When your lips instinctively part, he takes that as the go-ahead to kiss you slowly.

His mouth is soft and hot, and his tongue running along your bottom lip feels so good. He pulls back much too soon for your liking, now that passion has sparked inside you. When you impulsively reach to wipe a trace of your lipstick from his mouth, he quickly captures your thumb, drawing it into his mouth, licking and sucking on the tip before releasing it with a kiss.

As warmth rushes through your body, you can feel your skin tingling. The thinking part of your brain tells you this is a bad idea; it’s too soon after your breakup and too impulsive. But the seductive look on his face, the breaking of physical barriers, and his admission of wanting you has started a throbbing between your legs.

Since you’re still stunned silent, he takes the initiative. “Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

Biting your bottom lip, trying to sort your thoughts, you ask, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Aemond’s mouth tightens at the question, “I wasn’t sure if the attraction was mutual or if you just saw me as Hel’s kid brother. So I hesitated.” He looks away from you before adding, “Then you met him."

Knowing that opening himself up to others is not easy for him, you gently squeeze his hand in encouragement because you’re raw from your breakup and you need to know just what you could be getting yourself into with Aemond.

Shrugging his shoulders. "You seemed happy, and I thought I blew my chance with you.”

Little things about your friendship start to click in your mind, bringing a smile to your face. Now you’re the one holding his hand, rubbing circles with your thumb on his skin.

With a hopeful smile, he asks, “Can we get out of here?”

His request makes your heart thump in your chest, and you shift your hips in your seat before asking, “Where to?”

“My place?” Quickly adding, “We could talk some more or..." leaning close to your ear, his voice dropping lower with desire. “I could show you how much I want you, princess.”

Deep down, you’ve always loved the sound of his voice, and this new seductive tone causes a shiver to go up your spine despite the heat that is spreading through your body. Almost before you realize you're doing it, you’re slipping off the barstool, hoping your legs won’t shake.

Steadying yourself with a light hand on his chest and smiling up at him, you take a breath and say, “Alright, we can go... talk.”

Your reply earns you a rare, dimpled grin from him. He helps you slip on your jacket before firmly grasping your hand to begin leading you through the crowd to the exit. On your way out, you pass a grinning Aegon, but Aemond only glances at his brother, not bothering to stop.

Once outside, in the chill night air, he puts his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot. “You’re just going to ditch Aegon?” You ask with a chuckle.

“He knows what I’m up to,” he replies with a smirk. Laughing at your expression. “Aegon would get your boyfriend to play those stupid games at his parties so I could have some time with you.”

Reaching his car, he pulls you into a slow, deep kiss, holding you close to him with his large hands on your hips. Soon you’re fisting at the soft, expensive fabric of his shirt because it feels so fucking good kissing him, feeling him press his hard body against yours. You let his tongue tease its way past your lips to dance with yours as his fingers dig into your skin before he reluctantly pulls back to open the car door for you.

During the drive to his place, you text your friends, reassuring them that you are with Aemond and that everything is fine.

Curious about something, “So when Helaena would suggest a girls movie night, but we would end up at your place, you put her up to that?”

“I did not; she volunteered to do that.”

“My friend sets me up so her brother can walk around like a slut in sweatpants and a messy man bun. Wow, you Targs are something else,” you laughingly tease.

“I was desperate, pretty girl." His blush was visible even in the dim light of the car. “But you noticed,” he chuckles.

Aemond’s apartment is in one of the pricier buildings in the city, but you know his family has money. You’ve been here before, hanging out with the siblings for movie nights. Before you can even toe off your heels by the door, he pulls you to him with one arm around your waist, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, then soothing the little bites with his tongue, making you moan softly.

“Wanted you so bad for so long,” he murmurs between little wet kisses over your throat.

Playfully, you tease him while tugging on his long braid. “Have you been thinking dirty thoughts about me all this time?”

“Fucking filthy thoughts,” as he crushes his lips against yours in a demanding kiss that takes your breath away. You both work to shrug your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. You can feel the wetness forming between your legs as his long fingers caress the bare skin of your waist.

Pulling his shirt up, your hands explore the lean muscles of his flawless skin. When you bite at his lip, he groans into your mouth and grinds his hardening cock against you.

Trailing his lips down your neck, “Tell me you want me. I need to hear it," he pleads.

“I want you, Aemond; I want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly.

With your words, the last shred of restraint either of you had disappeared. By the time the two of you reach his bedroom, both of you are half naked, leaving a trail of clothing and shoes along your path.

“Fucking gorgeous tits,” he mumbles against your hardend nipple before taking it into his hot mouth again, sucking eagerly. Your other breast is being cupped in his strong hand, his fingers teasing the delicate peak. “Perfect tits all for me,” he hums as he switches to begin lavishing the other with attention.

His loose braid is long undone, and your fingers are tangled in his silky, soft hair. You can’t resist the urge to bait him a little. “You think just ‘cause you lick it, it's yours?”

His eye immediately shoots up to your face, and you feel a rough hum against your skin. Backing you up until your legs bump into his bed, he playfully pushes you down on the mattress.

“Aemond?” You squeak as you see the evil gleam in his eye. Kneeling on the floor, he pulls your legs to the edge of the bed and presses his face between them, rubbing his nose over your covered clit and inhaling deeply.

Resting on your elbows, you watch him tug down your panties, leaving you naked. He pushes your thighs wide with his large hands, and you see him shamelessly stare at your soaking wet pussy. “Who made you this wet, princess?"

You let out a gasp as he flattens his tongue and licks the length of your slit, never taking his eye off you. “Mine now,” he says with that familiar smirk of his.

Giving him your best, not impressed look, “It’s gonna take more than that, Targaryen.” you reply sassily. You watch him stick out his long tongue and start flicking your clit, before placing his lips over your little bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking gently and swirling his tongue over it.

Before long, you fall back on the bed, closing your eyes and giving yourself over to the wonderful sensations his mouth creates. His lips and tongue move through your folds, teasing your entrance, before returning to your swollen bud. Every little whimper or sob he pulls from you seems to spur him on. Compared to your ex, Aemond is the pussy eating champ.

Finding a rhythm that has you moaning “Fuck, you’re good at this.” He swells with pride, determined to make you a quivering mess. He relentlessly applies just the right amount of pressure on the right spots again and again. Your world is nothing but sloppy, wet sounds coming from between your legs and the orgasm building deep inside you.

When you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, your nails rake his scalp, causing him to moan into your pussy. "Mmm, baby, I’m close..don’t stop,” as you start to grind your hips against his mouth. Before you know it, waves of ecstasy that have your toes curling are crashing through you,leaving you shaking and breathless.

Aemond stares at your quivering pussy, watching more wetness leak from you. “You never answered my question. “Who makes you this wet? Hmm?” 

Still blissed out from your orgasm, you gasp as he slides a long finger inside you. “You do, only you,” you whimper.

“That’s my pretty princess,” he coos as he adds a second finger, slowly dragging them in and out of you. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?”

‘Mmm yes,” While he rises from the floor, you move to the center of the bed, stretching contentedly and giving your legs a rest. You enjoy the sight of his erection straining against his boxers while he opens a drawer in his nightstand and pulls out a condom packet.

“Aemond, we can skip that if you want. I already got tested after the breakup; all good.

“I’m good too, promise," he says as he drops the condom back in the drawer. Lowering his boxers, he frees his hard cock. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue at his perfect size while you watch him lazily stroke himself. Just looking at him makes your pussy clench; he’s the perfect blend of beauty and masculinity.

“Do you realize how fucking gorgeous you are?” You wonder aloud, your voice smokey with your arousal, taking in the glorious details of the sight before you. From his tousled hair falling past his shoulders to his defined, lean muscles and slim hips, you think he is a work of art.

His pale skin, already flush with his own desire, colors even more down to the tip of his beautiful, long shaft. Joining you on the bed, positioning himself so he is looming over the length of your body, he lowers down to kiss you, his hair falling in a silvery curtain around your head. You can taste yourself as he plunges his tongue past your teeth, deliciously invading your mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and your hands on his back, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his weight on top of you. The soft hairs on his chest and legs tickle your sensitive skin, while his cock is hot and hard against you. You part your thighs wider to let him settle between them, curling a leg around his hip.

“You ready for my cock, pretty princess?” His voice is rough with his need to be inside you when he starts moving his length between your sensitive folds, coating himself with your slick wetness.

Nodding desperately, “Mmm, yes,” you murmur, ready to start writhing beneath him.

Finding your entrance, the head of his cock slowly pushes into you, making him hiss, and he doesn't stop until he can’t go any deeper. “Fuck, you're tight around me.” Slowly, he withdraws halfway before sliding back in and holding himself steady. Giving you a cocky grin, “I think you’re used to something smaller being in you.”

You know it’s true. You’ve never felt this full before, so wonderfully stretched. Your eyes go wider, and a moan escapes you when he gives a more forceful, deep thrust into you.

“Hmm, I’m right,” he smirks knowingly. His muscles flexing with each snap of his hips.

Sensing that he eats up praise the way he eats pussy, you’re happy to give him what he wants. “Fuck, you’re big; it feels so good.” Each time his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, a little jolt of exquisite pleasure goes through you, and you grip his hips harder, raking your nails along his skin.

“So beautiful.” He’s captivated by the sight of your tits bouncing as he pounds into you. “Taking all of me so well, princess.” He coos as he hooks an arm under your knee, the new angle causing more friction against your patch of nerves as he somehow picks up his pace.

“Close, so close,” you whimper. It’s not long before the tightened coil suddenly snaps, making you cum hard with an earth-shattering orgasm that leaves your body shaking.

Your pussy clenching around him starts to send him over his own edge. His balls tightening as he keeps fucking you through your climax. His release leaves him grunting and shuddering as his cock twitches and spurts hot cum deep inside you.

Both of you are left reeling as Aemond rolls off and flops on his side next to you. He gently gathers you into his arms, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair.

You can hear his soft hum of satisfaction, and you can feel his heartbeat against your hand on his chest as you lie in his arms, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“You good, princess?” He asks and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead with your contented sigh of "yes." Soon you both force yourselves from the too-comfortable bed to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, Aemond gives you a soft, well-worn t-shirt to put on while he is already wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, no shirt, and his hair is up in a messy bun, earring a muttered, ”Slut,” from you.

“How come I call you princess, and apparently my nickname is 'Slut'? he teasingly asks.

“Awww, would you rather I call you ‘Prince Aemond'? You come back with mock sarcasm.

Grinning, “Prince Aemond, I like that.” Laughing when you roll your eyes at him, he heads to the kitchen for water and snacks for both of you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond #modernaemond #modern aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n

[itneverendshere]

my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺

warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him

you did it without thinking.

it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.

rafe.

the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you. 

this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.

you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.  

but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.

except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again. 

your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?

and if he isn’t?

there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already. 

you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.

you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.

holy fuck.

your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.

what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago. 

for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.  

should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.

“i can hear you breathing.”

panic sets in. 

summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there. 

you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”

his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones. 

“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”

you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?

“i didn’t run?”

his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”

the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?

“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“

“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.

you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough. 

“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”

his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.

“hey, sweetheart, this is me.”  his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”

but he’s not your rafe anymore.

that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him. 

a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.

"yeah..."

rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”

if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.

you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view. 

you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.

"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“

rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal. 

"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”

“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“

his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”

tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."

“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.

“it was! i’m a shitty person.”

his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”

“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”

the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.

he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.” 

rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”

without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.

“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”

“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”

you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.

“i have a date.”

a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations. 

rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”

but you only sob harder.

"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”

but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe. 

"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”

but you are. at you. at him.

the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.

you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.

"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"

it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.

rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”

“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”

his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.

"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed. 

you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.

"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."

but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.

"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."

you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them. 

it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing. 

“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”

it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.

and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.

“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”

for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say. 

and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.

“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”

his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.

and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more. 

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fluff #rafe angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe cameron

[tyun4airy]

— STONER!KEEHO WHO...

yoon keeho (p1h) x male!reader

warnings/tags: language, drug usage (marijuana), nsfw themes under the cut, non-idol!keeho, established relationship

i had to write this...have my stoner!keeho thoughts 🤲 if this does good i'll make it for other idols as well

stoner!keeho who confessed to you, his best friend, when he was high as hell deciding if he didn't tell you now then he never would out of anxiety

stoner!keeho who can't keep his hands off you even before you were dating, whether it's holding your hand or a hand on your thigh, he has to be touching you somehow

stoner!keeho who rolls the best blunts but needs a filter cause he hates getting buds in his mouth

stoner!keeho who shotguns the smoke into your mouth, loving the way you look at him with dazed eyes

stoner!keeho who gets 10x more emotional when he's high, he will be watching a movie or show with you and randomly start crying when there's a sad part

stoner!keeho who is soooo clingy when he's high, he will just follow you around like a lost puppy wherever you go, he goes

stoner!keeho who will laugh at everything even if it's not funny, he just thinks everything is hilarious and can't take anything serious when he's high

stoner!keeho who burnt himself trying to use a rig for the first time and pouted while you scolded him for not paying attention to the literal blowtorch in his hands

stoner!keeho who talks so fucking much in the first half an hour he's high only to get dead silent and stare off into space and you have to ask if he's still alive

stoner!keeho who convinced you to eat a cake edible from one of his friends and saying "this doesn't hit" in the first twenty minutes to being high as hell in the next half an hour holding onto you for dear life thinking he was going to die

stoner!keeho who goes to the grocery store or convenience store high as hell and buying everything in his vision of sight cause "everything looked good" he tells you after buying way too much

stoner!keeho who will randomly start singing out of nowhere when he's high for no reason at all, he could be watching something that makes him think of a song or he just randomly starts singing

stoner!keeho who gets whiny when he's getting a blowjob done by you, trying not to fuck your face cause it feels to good

stoner!keeho who is 10x more sensitive when he fucks while high, he's a whimpering mess trying to keep himself together

stoner!keeho who can't keep his hands off of you even in public leading to him fucking you in a bathroom

stoner!keeho who likes being choked when you ride him or top him

stoner!keeho who is a switch no doubt, he will not be against you topping and he's definitely not against being the one topping

stoner!keeho who ate aphrodisiacs mixed with thc and ended up so horny that he literally fucked you for hours on end before passing out on top of you

#kpop x reader #p1h x reader #p1harmony x reader #yoon keeho x reader #keeho x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #p1h scenarios #p1h imagines #kpop x male reader #p1harmony x male reader #p1h x male reader #keeho thoughts 💭

[s0urw00lf]

All in time

Summary: finnick is on a mission to convince the world you aren’t what they think

Request: Finnick odair with reader who is strangely unsettling with like a creepy personality but also a sweetheart and she confuses everyone so much

Fic type: fluff/angst

Pairing: Finnick odair x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Masterlist

Boarder by @cafekitsune

An: i kinda hate this. But i hope you enjoy reading it more than i did writing it.

The games had changed you. And not for the better, the cheerful person you were when you were chosen was long gone by the time you stepped foot on that train to the capitol. Your walls went up and they were made of pure steel, no one was able to break your barrier. Until you met Finnick, it was like he just walked right through them with no problem whatsoever. He was quick to break down your barriers, only to see the complete sweetheart you truly were, the way you cried when you remembered all of the lives you'd taken in the arena, the memorial wall you'd put in your home for them. The way you secretly worried for everyone in the arena during every game, hoping they'd call it off right in the middle of it so no one else had to die. But of course, nothing good ever happens in the capitol. Which is exactly how you wound back up in the games with Finnick. Everyone was fairly wary of you, much to Finnick dismay.

Today is the first day of training, and while Finnick was walking around making allies, you were practicing your trident throwing accuracy, (which was pretty spot on) until you looked over to see Finnick making his way over to you with a small smile on his face. “You know it'd be a hell of a lot easier to make allies if you didn't look like you'd kill the first person who walked up to you,” Finnick said leaning on the trident stand. You sighed “I know, but it's stupid when almost all of us are gonna die anyway.” you said as your body thrust forward, throwing the trident and successfully hitting the target. You turned to him, making eye contact with his bright blue eyes. He nodded over to his right, you looked over and saw Katniss Everdeen, your blank expression quickly changed into one of slight panic, “absolutely not” you said shaking your head. Finnick started nodding his head muttering ‘absolutely’ over and over as he nudged you over towards her. “Come back with an ally,” he said from behind you, as you sighed and begrudgingly made your way towards the struggling girl. You hadn't been one for socializing, and you weren't as intimidating as people made you seem, in fact you were more afraid of not being liked than anything, but the facade helped you protect yourself.

Katniss currently had her back towards you, trying and failing to throw the knives and land them in the place intended. “You’re a badass archer, but your throwing is horrible,” you said in a monotone voice. She turned towards you and a look of shock crossed her face when she saw that it was you that was talking to her. her posture straightened “You know who I am?” Katniss asked. Your brows raised, “Everyone knows who you are, you and your boyfriend are a literal one in a million. Most beautiful love story in all of Panem.” You said. Katniss grimaced, “sorry, I just heard-“ she said before cutting herself off. You nodded, telling her that you already knew what she was gonna say. You pointed to the knife in her hand, “may I?”. She nodded handing you the knife and moving out of the way. you took her place in front of the target and put your arm in the growing position before pausing to show her, “Your stance was wrong. You wanna hit your target you have to get the correct stance.” You finished, before unpausing your position and throwing hit knife. You smiled looking over at her “Bullseye” you said letting a smile slip. You moved to get the knife from the target and walked back to Katniss holding it out to her mentioning for her to try again. She nodded taking the knife and tried to replicate your stance, before letting the knife fly at the target. Your brows raised surprised “Pretty good Everdeen” you complimented. She didn’t show any emotion but you’re pretty sure that’s just her. “Thanks,” she said in her quiet voice. you looked back at Finnick who was still resting in the same position, leaning against the trident stand, he nodded and you sighed quietly turning back to Katniss. “Knife throwing takes time and practice, so let me do the throwing and you stick to the shooting alright?” You asked holding out your hand, hoping shed catch your drift. She looked at you warily, but ultimately shook your hand. You smiled, and she gave you the best one she could muster “See ya” you said making your way back to Finnick who looked decently surprised. “See wasn’t that bad, you just needed a little push,” he said. You rolled your eyes, “you’re lucky she’s not unbearable, you would’ve been my target had she been” you joked with a smile

~~~~~

After you came back from rescuing Peeta and Johanna from the capitol, you were sitting on your and Finnick's shared bed when you heard a knock on the door. You made your way over to the door and when you opened you were met with a crying Katniss, you were instantly hit with worry, “are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked pulling her into the room. She shook her head “I just wanted to thank you, for everything.” She said. Your brows raised in surprise. “I second-guessed Finnick when he told me all you guys wanted was to help us, I didn’t trust you and I'm sorry, “she said solemnly. You shook your head, “you had every right not to trust me, or him. I didn’t fully trust you either” you admitted. You hugged her, you knew she wasn’t a touchy person, but you felt like she needed it. She hugged you back, before pulling away. “Finnick is lucky to have you, and I’m glad he put everyone in their place for you.” She said. You frowned in confusion, “what do you mean?” You asked. “In the arena when you’d gotten separated from everyone else he was a mess, but Johanna made a comment, saying you were probably scoping us out, seeing which ones to kill. He went ballistic and said anyone who thinks you’d kill them is just as brainwashed as the rest of Panem. Said he’d been more likely to kill us if it came down to it. Said you’re in no way whatsoever weak but you’re damn sure not a monster.” She finished. You frowned, you hadn’t known this piece of information, but when you’d reunited with the group you had wondered why everyone had such a drastic change of heart towards you. Even the stone-cold Johanna. Katniss understood the look on your face pretty well, having worn it herself. She stepped away “I’m gonna go I just wanted you to know that I'm thankful for everything.” She said and you nodded, “you’re welcome,” you said as she left

~~~

Not long after Finnick entered the room. You quickly stood and ran to hug his tall frame placing your arms around his shoulders. “Not that I'm complaining, but what’s this for?” He asked as his arms slithered around your waist. You looked up at him with the most love-filled eyes you’d ever given him. “Thank you for not giving up on me,” you said. “Finnick was still confused and he let the confusion show on his face “Of course not,” he said. You backed away “I had a visit from Katniss, she thanked me for everything but she told me something else.” You said to him, he nodded telling you to go on. “She said you stuck up for me to Johanna. Told her and everyone else that you were more likely to kill them than me.” You said as tears brimmed your eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” You asked. Finnick leaned down and placed his lips to yours, capturing you in a love-filled kiss as his arms brought you closer to his body. He kissed you as if his love depended on it like all his love for you was in that single kiss. He pulled away but kept you close. “Y/n, you have the most amazing soul I’ve ever seen. And people deserve to see it, to feel what it’s like to be cared for by you, even if it isn’t romantically. Y/n you are a gem, with such rarity that anyone would live poor just to have you by their side.” He said with the softest eyes, a voice so full of emotion that you couldn’t pinpoint which one was which. “I love you Finn,” you said, in this situation you didn’t know what else to say. “I love you too darling,” he said pressing another kiss to your lips.

#finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x oc #thg finnick #finnick fanfic #hunger games finnick #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #katniss everdeen #katniss x reader

[mammonsrockstargf]

Hello! I’ve seen a few posts from your blog and I really like your writing style! If possible may I request the obey me brothers with two different MC’s? They met during summer camp and couldn’t stand the other kids so they just stuck to themselves until it was over now 10 years later they’re reunited…in anime hell. Thank you :D!!!

hii, lovely, thank youuu

sorry this took so long, school has been killinggg me lately <3

Okay, so the way I imagine this would go…

MC is Lilith’s descendant, right? But with how bloodlines work etc. etc. and Lilith has been dead for a while, so wouldn’t there be a lot of descendants?

You meet at summer camp. Maybe either of you never really felt like you fit in, there was always something odd about you. When you meet, it’s an instant connection. As though something bigger is tying you together. When summer camp is over, you each go on your own way. Unfortunately, you live so far away from each other, that you’re unable to keep contact.

Fast forward to Lucifer having to find a human exchange student. Maybe the wind blows to papers towards him and he finds himself unable to choose? I like the idea that Lillith looked at her brothers and was like “These boys need serious help, one human is not enough”.

Or maybe when one of you is teleported to the Devildom, the bond the two of you created at summer camp activates and causes you both to be teleported?

Regardless, you’re both here now. Standing on front of a very perplexed Lucifer, Satan who’s practically dying of laughter and Asmo who’s over the moon. (“Two playthings? How marvelous!”)

Lucifer's immediate reaction is one of you gotta go. There’s no way in hell that he’s putting up with two humans. The only reason he begrudgingly lets you both stay is because Diavolo lets out a hearty laugh and says “Well, I suppose it’s fate! You’ll both be staying.”

He can’t exactly say no to that know can he? So he makes some arrangements and gets another bed set up in the guest room. Having you in the same room makes it easier for him to keep control, so you’ll have to put up with that.

I also think he’d assign Mammon to one of you like in the OG and then Beel to the other. (“There’s no way the moron can take care of two humans on his own.”)

Once Mr. GreedyMcGreedyface is over the initial annoyance, he’s happy. Mammon, as per usual, is under the belief “the more the merrier”. He's very protective of his two lil humans and will buy you matching clothes and shit. He thinks it so funny, seeing you accidentally wear the same shirt on the same day.

Leviathan is flustered. Two humans are just too much for him. Don’t blame the guy. You'd probably have to get to know him one-on-one because there's no way he can handle being in proximity of the two of you alone for a while. (He eventually gets used to it, though and finds all sorts of multiplayer games you can play.)

Satan thinks it’s funny as fuck. Generally, he thinks anything that doesn’t go Lucifer's way is funny as fuck. Besides from that, I don't think he'd be all that different. He's too wrapped up in his rebellious phase to care.

Asmodeus as stated earlier thinks this is very exciting. I have the feeling he’d observe from afar at first, trying to feel out the vibes of everyone. He’d probably also try to set you two up. “You met at summer camp? What a meet-cute!” He'd also try to convince y'all to have a threesome. Zero chill on this guy.

Beelzebub doesn’t really care. He'd find it hard to tell you apart, to be honest. Which one is which? Do not ask Beel, he does not know. Once he gets to know you, though, I think he'd be the most observant of your differences. He'd know which one of you prefers spicy food, which one has a sweet tooth, your favourite colours, and your favourite kind of movies. He'd be so attentive to detail.

One of you has a tiny scar above your right eyebrow, and the other gets a small dimple on the left cheek whenever you smile. It's not something that he'll often vocalize, but sometimes he'll surprise you by mentioning it out of nowhere and you'll be like "What the fuck, Beel, how do you remember that?" and he'll just shrug and send you a sheepish smile.

Belphegor is fucking furious. What do you mean there’s not one but two humans in my house? No thanks. He would probably torment your dreams or something. He'll be able to tell you apart instantly, but instead of going the Beel route, he'll go out of his way to act like he can't tell you apart. "Oh, all humans are the same," yeah, suck it, loser-boy, you know exactly who's who, you just won't admit it.

Generally, I think being two MCs would be significantly better for one's overall mental health? Like you're stuck in "anime hell" (hihi) with a bunch of demons, two angels and a weird wizard guy who hardly even remembers what it's like being a human. You're definitely making it out in bigger pieces than the rest of us are.

a/n: thank you for reading! find my other stuff here. <3

#perse requests #perse fics #perse fluff #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me headcanon #obey me drabble #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me lucifer #lucifer #obey me mammon #mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #leviathan #obey me satan #satan #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #belphegor

[bloody-bee-tea]

It was love all along

Satoru is in his favourite spot in the whole wide world. He’s stretched out on top of Suguru, who’s laying on the couch, their legs tangled, Suguru’s heartbeat in his ear and Suguru’s fingers in his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

There might or might not be a movie playing, but it’s not as if Satoru is paying attention, as if he could pay attention with Suguru’s steady heartbeat drowning everything else out.

Satoru only notices that something changed at all when Suguru speaks up.

“If you’re going to be a hater, then do it quietly,” he says, his voice pleasantly rumbling through his chest and Satoru presses closer, trying to chase that sound even as he frowns.

Why am I being a hater? he wonders, wants to ask, but before he can convince his mouth to work, the couch jostles and then Shoko speaks up.

He didn’t even hear her come in.

“You’re such freaks,” she says and it’s more fond than anything.

Satoru turns his head, presses his other ear to Suguru’s chest as soon as he can again, and then he blinks up at Shoko, who has her arms crossed on the back of the couch, her head pillowed on them even as she stares at them.

“Takes one to know one,” Satoru mutters, barely able to find his own voice with how good it feels to have Suguru scratch at his scalp more insistently.

Seems he didn’t like it much when Satoru moved.

“What are you even doing?” Shoko asks, one eyebrow raised and Satoru smiles slightly when Suguru speaks again.

He does love hearing his voice like this, all rumbly, straight in his ear.

“Watching a movie,” Suguru replies and Shoko snorts out a laugh.

“Yeah, right. Watching,” she mocks them. “What’s even happening in it?” she wants to know and Satoru certainly doesn’t have an answer for her, because he wasn’t even aware that a movie was running in the first place.

“Things,” Suguru says after a short pause and Satoru smiles slightly. Suguru clearly wasn’t paying that much attention either.

“You and your stupid need to be as wrapped up in each other as you can possibly be,” she mutters and pointedly looks at Suguru’s hand in Satoru’s hair. “It’s sickening.”

“You’re just jealous,” Satoru mutters, and Suguru hums, sending shivers down Satoru’s back.

“Maybe I am,” Shoko easily gives back, “but it’s still not normal what you two are doing,” she tacks on and then climbs over the back of the couch to lay down on top of Satoru.

It presses him even more into Suguru, makes the sound of his heart almost unbearably loud in his ears and Satoru thinks that if he would die right this second, he wouldn’t even mind.

“This okay?” Shoko asks, probably more for Suguru’s sake than Satoru’s, because it’s Suguru who has to bear both of their weights now, who is being pressed into the couch.

Satoru still hums in answer, more content than even before and Suguru also makes a happy sound in the back of his throat.

“’s good,” he mutters, not once ceasing the steady motion of his hands and Satoru can feel how Shoko rolls her eyes.

“Weirdos,” she mutters, but she doesn’t get up or move otherwise away.

Satoru smiles at that, because she can complain as much as she wants, but she’s in this as well and that makes her just as much of a weirdo as it does Suguru and him.

Satoru goes back to concentrating on the sound of Suguru’s heartbeat, on the feeling of his fingers against his skin and he floats for a bit, happy and content with where he is right now.

He’s so content in fact, that he doesn’t notice the niggling feeling at the back of his mind until much later.

~*~*~

They do, eventually, have to get up and go to bed, even though all three of them are perfectly comfortable where they are. But if Yaga finds them piled on the couch like this in the middle of the night when they have missions the next day, hell is going to break loose and no one dares to tempt that.

“Time for bed,” Shoko mutters as she pushes herself off Satoru, rolling off the couch and barely getting her feet under her before she hits the ground. “You should go to bed, too.” She pauses as she regards them. “Preferably to your own ones, but I’m not holding my breath for that,” she then quietly adds and it makes Satoru frown.

“Why go to my own bed, when I can go to Suguru’s?” he asks, turning his head around again to be able to make his frown work better.

Not that it ever works on her.

“Exactly my point,” she sighs out. “Well, I already knew you’re not normal—” she points at Satoru “—but he came as a surprise.” She moves her finger to Suguru and Satoru takes offense to that.

Suguru is perfectly normal.

“Don’t be mean to him,” he chides her, causing Suguru to chuckle under him and Satoru feels as if he’s melting when the sound travels through his entire body.

“She was insulting you, too, you know,” Suguru informs him, but really, Satoru couldn’t care less about that.

He draws the line at people insulting Suguru, though.

“Shoko, take it back what you said about Suguru,” he says, as if he didn’t even hear Suguru, who lets out a fond sigh.

“I will, if you sleep in your own bed tonight. Alone,” she stresses and before Satoru can even open his mouth, Suguru speaks up.

“Not happening,” he decisively says and that’s that, it seems, because Shoko heaves out a huge sigh and then waves at them.

“Thought so. Anything else would have been a surprise with how up in each other’s business you two are,” she says as she walks away from them and it leaves Satoru with a frown.

That niggling feeling is back, more insistent now and he doesn’t like it; doesn’t like it one bit, because it makes it hard to enjoy the head scratches he’s still getting from Suguru.

“We should go to bed, too, though, she’s right about that,” Suguru eventually mumbles and Satoru presses himself closer to Suguru.

“Don’t wanna,” he whines out and smiles when Suguru chuckles again.

“We just have to relocate to bed,” Suguru tries to cajole him, “and then we can go right back to this.”

As if to drive his point home, he scratches at a particularly sensitive spot low on Satoru’s neck and really, that’s not helping at all.

“You’re gonna make my bones melt like that,” Satoru complaints and curses himself when Suguru immediately stops.

“Can’t have that until we’re in bed,” he says and then—because Suguru is cruel and mean and has no regard for Satoru’s safety—he pushes him off himself and the couch.

“Ouch, Suguru,” Satoru whines out, rubbing the aching spot on his butt that met the ground first but he can’t really be mad, because Suguru is smiling down at him as he reaches out and pushes a few strands of hair out of Satoru’s face.

“Sorry,” he easily says and Satoru knows that he’s not sorry at all.

“Whatever,” Satoru grumbles as he picks himself off the ground and just because he can he flicks Suguru’s forehead. “Let’s go then.”

Now that he’s up and away from Suguru he realises just how cold the room as gotten and goose bumps break out all over his arms.

“You’re the one stalling us,” Suguru easily gives back, getting off the couch and simply walking out on Satoru, who is quick to follow him as if there’s a leash tethering him to Suguru.

It isn’t until they are in Suguru’s room—Satoru having followed him there without a second thought—that he hesitates.

Suguru doesn’t notice immediately, because he changes into his sleeping clothes and slides right into bed, but when he finally realises that Satoru is not doing the same, he frowns.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” he wants to know, and Satoru doesn’t know what to say.

“I think—maybe I should—” he starts and points over his shoulder at the door. He doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do, but Shoko’s words shook something loose in him and now there’s this pit of worry in his gut that he can’t seem to shake. “You know, my own bed,” he finishes lamely and it doesn’t help when Suguru simply continues to stare at him.

“What’s going on?” he finally asks and Satoru shuffles on his feet.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just—” Satoru trails off with a shrug.

“Do you want to go to your own bed?” Suguru wants to know and just thinking about it—laying in his own bed, cold and alone with Suguru too far away from him—makes Satoru’s eyes burn as if he’s going to burst into tears.

He doesn’t trust his voice anymore so he shakes his head and Suguru’s face softens.

“Satoru. Satoru, come here,” he gently says and lifts the blanket to invite Satoru in, and really, how is Satoru supposed to say no to that offer?

He’s across the room with two big strides of his legs and back in Suguru’s arms a heartbeat later.

Strangely enough it feels like coming home and Satoru tries not to think too much about it.

“There, that’s better,” Suguru softly says, sounding just as content as Satoru feels and he arranges them to his liking, until they are in the same position as they were the entire evening. “Now, is this about what Shoko said?” Suguru asks while scratching Satoru’s scalp again and Satoru hides his face in Suguru’s chest.

“It’s just—she’s right, isn’t she?” Satoru dares to ask when Suguru doesn’t offer anything else and Suguru sighs.

“Is she?” he wants to know in turn and it’s not an answer, it’s not even helping anything, so Satoru picks his face out of Suguru’s chest to glare at him. “There you are,” Suguru mutters and moves his hand so he can cup Satoru’s cheek in it. “She’s only right if it bothers either one of us,” he then says and Satoru pouts at him.

“But doesn’t it? Bother you? I mean, she’s right about me, I’m all kinds of fucked up and I’m just—doesn’t it bother you that she thinks the same about you?”

“She’s right, though,” Suguru easily says as if it doesn’t mean anything to him. “You being as touch starved as you are isn’t really a surprise with your upbringing and your technique but you both forget that I’m from a normal family.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Satoru wants to know and he doesn’t even have it in him to deny the touch starved part.

It’s true after all.

“Being able to see curses and not knowing when to shut up about it doesn’t make for a lot of friends,” Suguru tells him. “It doesn’t even make for a lot of affection from your parents, not when they are low-key weirded out by you, too. I didn’t have any friends as a child and even later, when I learned to keep my mouth shut about what I could see it never felt as if I could truly open up to someone. I could never be myself with anyone else; not until I came here.”

“Not until you met us,” Satoru says in understanding and frowns in confusion when Suguru shakes his head.

“Not until I met you,” he corrects him. “Shoko’s great and all, but I don’t click with her like I do with you,” he admits and Satoru feels himself go hot all over at hearing that. “I don’t mind being touchy with her, or having her with us like today, but it’s not the same. I wouldn’t want to do this with just her. That’s all you.”

“It feels right, doesn’t it?” Satoru dares to ask, his heart beating nervously in his chest and it only settles when Suguru smiles at him.

“It does. That’s why I don’t mind. She can call us weirdos and freaks and co-dependant all she wants; as long as it doesn’t bother either of us, I really don’t mind. As long as I’m being lumped in with you, it’s all good.”

Satoru doesn’t know what’s happening to him anymore, but he feels so warm all over, his heart is beating heavily in his chest and he feels as if he just has to do something about all of this so he leans forward and presses his lips against Suguru’s.

It’s only when he moves back that he realises what he did and panic grabs at his heart, turning everything that was soft and warm just a moment ago cold and hard. He knows he has to say something, anything, but his voice is failing him and his panic must be pretty visible on his face because Suguru smiles reassuringly at him.

“Satoru, as long as it’s you, it’s all good,” he says, reiterates that point again and then uses the hand that is still on Satoru’s face to bring him closer once more. “So don’t worry.”

The last part is whispered right against Satoru’s lips, before he kisses him and Satoru simply melts.

“Still feels right?” Suguru asks when they part as if Satoru wasn’t the one who did it first and he’s just so overwhelmed he has to hide his face in Suguru’s neck.

“Still feels right,” he then agrees, because he knows he has to say something and Suguru goes back to scratching at his scalp as if nothing even happened.

“Good,” Suguru whispers, pressing his lips to Satoru’s head and he sounds so content, so happy that it wipes all of Satoru’s worries away.

“Maybe Shoko will find us more normal now,” Satoru mutters. “Maybe it’ll make more sense to her when we tell her we’re together.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to make sense to her at all,” Suguru replies. “Maybe it’s just important that it makes sense to us.”

Satoru knows that he should just take this, should be happy with this, because it does make sense to him to do this with Suguru too but yet again he can’t help the little worry that pokes at his brain. Satoru thinks he couldn’t stand it if Suguru wants to do this without labelling them and it doesn’t make sense because there’s no label for them anyway, and yet—

“I really didn’t know you to be such an overthinker,” Suguru fondly says, turning them around so they can lay on their sides, their foreheads pressed together. “Usually it’s me, overthinking things and worrying about nothing.”

It seems he can read Satoru better than he even thought he could and while it makes him flush it also makes him feel seen in the best kind of ways.

“Maybe you just bring out all of my worst sides,” he shoots back but he can’t deny that he needs Suguru to acknowledge what they are.

“Mh, wouldn’t want that now,” Suguru mutters and brushes their noses together. “Satoru, it’s us. Always. As friends, as partners, as boyfriends. No matter what, it’s always us. And I love you in all instances.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathes out because this is a little bit more than he dared to hope for but it finally melts all his worries and useless, stupid overthinking thoughts away. “Yeah, same.”

“Gods, you’re so lame,” Suguru laughs out and Satoru should be offended—would be with anyone else, really—but Suguru is laughing and he looks so happy that Satoru kind of forgets about that.

“Well, you love me, so that makes you lame, too,” he confidently says and Suguru gives him that one smile Satoru loves so much, the one that softens his entire face, the one that makes his eyes turn into crescent moons.

“As long as we’re lame together,” he gives back and Satoru moves in for another kiss before he chokes on all his happiness.

“Of course we are,” he then says and snuggles close to Suguru, slotting his body against his and brushing his lips over his throat. “I love you, too. No matter what.”

“See, there you go,” Suguru proudly says and buries a hand in Satoru’s hair again. “Shoko will probably be even more disgusted with us now than before.”

It makes Satoru laugh and he has to agree. If she found them annoying and strange before, it will now only make things worse.

“Well, she’ll have to deal.”

“She sure will,” Suguru agrees and then falls asleep between one breath and the next, his hand still in Satoru’s hair, his lips pressed against Satoru’s forehead and if Satoru didn’t know it would wake him back up again he would flail and squirm around with his happiness.

Since that is out of the question, he settles for pressing that little bit closer to Suguru and falling asleep to Suguru’s steady heartbeat, letting him know that it was love all along.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #getting together #cuddling and snuggling #codependency #love confessions #first kiss

[ruddyhotelau]

Hello, by the way, your work is amazing and I try not to miss anything or updates🌟

I have a question. I knew a lot about Emily and Lute's🥰💞, but what about Michael and vox's? How did their relationship start???

JusticeStatic's storyline in the AU begins after the main series ends. Vox was guilty of a felony, but thanks to Emily's success in convincing Michael, Vox was given a second chance to prove that he could change under Michael's strict supervision (This was Emily's idea).

So the two of them were stuck with each other and Vox had to live in Michael's palace so the King can have a better watch on him. Both Vox and Michael inherently did not like each other, but in the situation of having to be together, the two of them gradually got used to the other's presence. Over time, Vox also put away his charming, fake businessman mask because he knew that mask had no effect in front of the King of Hell.

Originally, they didn't even intend to talk to each other, but because Vox had most of his power sealed and Michael's palace was quite boring, the TV demon often appeared to bother Michael, making him feel extremely annoying. However, over time, Michael also discovered many aspects of Vox that he did not think existed.

Vox might not be as stupid as Michael thought. At one point he attempted to throw some unimportant papers to Vox for him to handle, but mainly to make Vox shut up. Unexpectedly, beyond Michael's expectations, the demon completed the assigned task quite well. Even with the sharp eyes of a businessman, he also came up with solutions that Michael had never thought of. This also left a good impression of him in Michael's eyes.

On a rare occasion that they had a serious conversation, Michael had always thought Vox would enjoy watching humanity writhe in crime and chaos, love to witness people's suffer but turn out, Vox just didn't give a damn about that. Don't get him wrong, Vox sure loves chaos and pain for others but that never is his number one priority. The demon only cares about what will bring most benefit for him, for his wants. If people being happy means he would get closer to his goal then he will make sure those bitches keep their smile still on their faces by one way or another.

While Michael hates the idea of sacrificing everything for desire, Vox is infatuated with it. For him, it is the blind pursuit of desire and stubbornness because of greed that makes human life in hell even more bustling, exciting and unpredictable because every day will pass like a mysterious and exciting gamble. Compared to angels who suppress their desires and live aimless, boring lives, wouldn't it be happier to pursue their ambitions and taste the sweet fruit at the end of the road? Like Princess Emily, for example. Didn't her dream also originate from desire?

Having finished speaking, he smiled a cold, evil smile of a scummy bastard while slowly enjoying the glass of Whiskey in his hand. At that moment, the King of Hell felt that the demon in front of him was no longer the usual flat faced TV that he knew. He vaguely saw an image of a sharp businessman in his 50s, proudly showing off a pile of money stained with innocent blood - a terrible bastard. Michael was disgusted by him, but he also didn't expect that the idiot he always despised would have such "profound" moments...

And it was also extremely interesting to see the person Michael thought was sharp a few hours ago turn into a rowdy child after losing a game of chess, just few taunts from Michael made the demon angrily flipped the chessboard.

In the end, Vox is still a hundred years old man, the "silence" between them will still happen. The moment the two stood side by side without saying a word.

The moment when Vox could be quietly smoking outside the balcony while Mike soon noticed from afar. Different from the look that irritated Michael the day before, different from the look with a sly smile the other day, even more different from the look of a noisy from before... There is something more "real" about that cunning demon. And before Michael knew it, he had unconsciously walked towards Vox.

Vox quickly realized Michael's footsteps were approaching. He turned back to look at the fallen angel and his expression immediately changed. He smirked and teased Michael a few words. Vox braced himself for a punch to land on his screen, but it never came.

This time, Mike just glared at Vox before ignoring the rest of his words and silently watching the explosions and screams from the city in the distance. Vox saw that the person next to him had no reaction to the sarcastic words. He could only roll his eyes in annoyance, then leaned back against the railing to light a new cigarette.

In that moment, a rare sight occurred. The King of Hell was currently calmly looking out at the chaos from afar while the demon he had always despised quietly leaned his back against the railing while inhaling a rich cigar…

Immersed in his own thoughts, Vox didn't notice when Michael's hand reached out. Michael was always curious about the taste of those cigars - the drug that always filled the body of the man next to him. Why is he so addicted to it? Perhaps today, Michael will break the rules and let himself try something "toxic"...

Michael suddenly snatched Vox's unfinished cigarette away, making him startled and upset, shouting, "Hey!". Michael continued to ignore Vox and slowly imitated the other person, taking a gentle breath. Gray smoke poured into his mouth, making the King of Hell frown slightly. The taste was exactly as he expected, extremely bad and completely unappealing... But Michael did not throw it away, instead continued to bring the cigarette to his lips and slowly enjoy it...

Mike's thoughtful appearance while smoking and the image of the cloudy smoke escaping from the his dry lips made Vox's choke a bit, his face suddenly slightly warmed up. Uncomfortable with his own unusual thoughts, Vox turned to the other side of the railing, feeling the blood-scented Hell wind blowing onto the screen, causing Vox to relax a bit... And that wind also brought the smell of coffee that he always loved from the smoke of the person next to him...

Vox frowned slightly, then leaned his whole body against the railing, looking down... A rare peaceful atmosphere, both were immersed in their own thoughts and did not care about the other's presence at that time. It wasn't until Michael finished smoking that he quietly walked inside, giving Vox back the quiet space.

A moment later, out of habit, Vox reached into his pocket to take another cigarette, but this time he discovered that the pack was empty. Vox stared at the empty cigarette box for a moment while his thumb gently rubbed the golden letters on the box. Then, suddenly and without thinking, Vox flicked it, sending the box flying down. Luckily Michael wasn't there to witness it, otherwise Vox would have had to hear him complain about littering again. Standing just a moment longer, Vox turned on his heel and walked back inside, silently closing the balcony door.

_____________________

Basically, their relationship will start really slow. It's a long amount of time to change from hate to love. Like it just their slice of life of understanding more about each other and find out that maybe the other wasn't that bad and eventually, slowly open themselves with the other and enjoy each others' company... This just some of what happen in their daily life when they live together. Sorry if you guys found them kinda messy and hard to understand because our explanation is kinda long and not to the point much. I guess t is is more lia an oneshot than a real ans to er the question.

But I hope you guy can at least see some reason behind why we ship them and even love them as we do?

If you can read to the end and see my silly ranting then thank you so much for reading this. I really appreciate that!!! >=333

Bonus some JusticeStatic arts for you guys who don't use X

#ruddy hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel swap au #hazbin hotel michael #hazbin hotel vox #justicestatic #hazbin hotel oc

[immikeysbike]

"I'll go to hell if I have to." Emma S.

✨Characters : Sano Emma, Ryuguji Ken, Sano Manjiro and Fem!Reader

Arc: Tenjiku✨

-Emma was no longer lonely. So she never felt the need to make friends.

-I mean, her brother Mikey, his friends and Draken were with her.

-She thought she was lucky, even though her mom had abandoned her.

-At school, everyone was scared of Emma because she was the Sano Manjirou aka Mikey's sister. I guess she didn’t even try to bond with her classmates.

-She probably wasn’t a problem student and certainly had above-average grades, but nothing more.

-It didn’t make her sad, actually.

-Trying to win Draken's heart take all her time !

-So, she really didn’t except you to become her friend.

-You were an ordinary person.

-Emma had seen an adorable plush and you gave her one.

-Emma had happily talk to you and thanked you a lot. Even if it was just a plush.

-You girls ended up talking in a coffee shop. And you exchange your phone numbers.

-Emma had been quick to mention her brother's delinquency and was surprised when you simply listened with curiosity.

-She was so happy. You were her first friend who had no connection with her brothers and delinquency.

-She told you about Draken almost immediately, complaining about him or, on contrary, having stars on her eyes.

-You knew every detail of each other’s lives. As if you were each other’s diaries.

-Emma loved to talk about her daily life, but sincerely appreciated that you didn’t hesitate to tell her everything too.

-Sometimes, she talked about Izana.

-You often had pyjamas parties! At her place or yours.

-That’s how you met Mikey and Draken.

-You were convinced in your heart that Draken loves Emma too.

-You tried to convince her to confess her love but she always refuses !

-When her brother, Shinichiro, died, you always supported her. You listened her for hours and buy her groceries she likes.

-Emma had once again lost a person she loved.

-After that, she almost saw you as her sister. Or platonic soulmates.

-It became like a ritual: whenever she had the slightest problem, you were in the top1 list of person to see first.

-Mikey, Draken and you were definitely Emma’s favorite people. She didn’t want to lose any of you.

-She had already lost too many people.

-Imagine her shock the day she almost got into a car accident after having an argument with Draken.

-She walked frustrated and hadn’t look the road.

-You’d saved her by pushing her, but you couldn’t save yourself.

-Emma had cried so hard and Draken had hurried over to see you.

-"Ryuguji… Could you protect Emma? Please."

-What if you weren’t dead, but in a deep coma ?

-Mikey, Draken often visited you, thanking you for saving Emma.

-Emma visited you every day. Crying or telling you about her day and asking how you were, just like you used to.

-But you didn’t answer.

-You no longer reassured her, no longer argued with her when she went too far for Draken.

-She missed you.

-You body didn’t move, blink or tremble. Despite all the years.

-"Hey… If you wake up, I'll confess to Ken-chan. So please come back soon, okay ?"

-When it was your birthday, she’ll give you your favorite fruits and flowers.

-One day, she stopped to visiting you. So did Mikey.

-Emma was dead. Killed by delinquents in the run-up to the fighting between the Touman and the Tenjiku.

-After her funeral, the one who came to see you every day was Draken.

-He told you in your coma that you best friend had died.

-He told you that you were right and that he had been in love with her all along.

-Draken had cried. You had entrusted him with you best friend’s life. And he couldn’t keep his promise.

-"Mikey said Emma wanted you back."

-"I'll go to hell gladly if I have to, so please wake up."

-Maybe he'd been dreaming, but he saw you crying that day.

#I want to cry rn #Emma and Draken relationship is my reason to live #I want to write a fanfic rn. #tokyo revengers #anime #anime / manga #bonten #mikey bonten #tenjiku #izana #draken #ryuguji ken #ken ryuuguji #manjirou sano #sano manjiro #mikey #emma #sano emma #emma sano #tokrev

[haveyouseenherlately]

pov: you go to one of their gigs

old ramble written last year.

warning: 18+. follows no timeline. not proofread, so grammatical errors and typos.

masterlist here.

not. this. again.

no matter how fucking hard you tried to keep it together, you somehow always found yourself crying over the same idiot, tall boy. for nearly three years now, you’d tried to shake off your feelings for george but at this point it honestly seemed impossible. you always fell for his attention even though you knew it was a sick, toxic cycle. sigh. you couldn't do this to yourself anymore.

it was mid october. you were at a venue in london waiting for the band to take the stage. george had asked (well, more like begged actually) over the phone for you to come to their gig that night even though you were drained and exhausted. "please. i miss you." you didn't know if his plea was sincere or not, but it made your heart beat faster. you hated to admit you missed him, too.

"fine, but don't count on me for anything after." you had worked 12 consecutive shifts to stash away some money as you wanted to do some travelling around europe. you were in your early 20's. you were supposed to have fun, get lost in random cities, take drugs with strangers, all of those things you saw on films and tv. while you loved london, you wanted to visit some places with a bit more colour to them and try to forget about him for at least a few weeks or so. it wasn't too much to ask for, right?

after he convinced you to show up, you figured you might as well try to make the most of your night out. you stumbled upon him and ross when they were out for a quick smoke, george quick to plant a kiss on your cheek followed by a tight embrace that lingered longer than expected. he was warm and, to your dismay, it made you feel warm inside, too. it seemed that every chance he got, he would touch you in some way, whether a brush of your arm, a hand on your lower back, a gentle grip on your hip. you tried to not think much of it knowing you couldn't afford to get tangled up in this mess all over again. you loved him (to some extent) but the sleepless nights and ongoing fights were not worth it anymore.

when the opening band finished, you made your way to the front to watch them perform from a closer spot. you had attended many of their gigs at this point and you genuinely fell in love with their music, albeit you wouldn't tell them directly. you had too much pride for such confession.

the gig started, the fangirl in you waking up and getting excited to sing along, forgetting about your exhaustion and lack of sleep. matty noticed you, giving a small wave and blowing a kiss in your direction before diving into the next song. while george was the one who unfortunately held your heart, you had a soft spot for the front boy, even having made out with him several times before just for the hell of it. alcohol and weed might have been involved, though...

after a few more songs, you couldn't help but notice the way george effortlessly played on stage, arms moving in calculated motions, messy hair swaying from side to side. he would look straight at you, wink and bite his bottom lip, which just made you laugh. he hadn't changed one bit. you remembered him doing this same routine at your place whenever he craved your attention. and george did it because he knew it worked like a charm. you had to admit it felt nice to have his focus on you, making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, the two of you could work it out again.

when the show ended and the boys went backstage, you managed to sneak yourself back there after 20 minutes or so, in hopes of finding them and saying your goodbyes. you kept opening every door to check if it was their dressing room, but you had no luck for a while.

you twisted another handle, opening the door and your heart sank to your stomach, making you feel instantly sick. in front of you happened to be your dear drummer with another girl's head between his legs. you were not quite sure which words left your lips, but they must've been loud enough for the both of them to turn around and take notice of you. this couldn't be happening. not. again.

you shut the door and quickly walked through the corridor, trying to find the nearest exit to get some fresh air in your lungs. not again, not again is all you could repeat in your head. you couldn't believe that somewhere deep inside your gut, you hoped that this could be the time that george and you kissed once more and went back to your flat together. why did you even think that would happen? and most importantly, why did you even want it to happen? not. again.

"fuck. i'm—i'm sorry." you were staring down at the floor which made you bump into someone. "i'm sorry." you kept apologizing as you made an effort to step away without looking up. you knew there were tears streaming down your face and didn't want anyone to see the mess you were at that moment. but you felt a tight grip on your arm and heard a familiar, warm voice call your name.

this is what finally made you turn around. "i'm sorry, matty. i can't..." you tried to break free from his grasp but he continued to hold on. "what's going on, darling? are you okay?" there was genuine concern embracing his words which made you cry ever more. not right now for fuck's sake.

you looked away, embarrassed at your state and not wanting to admit to him (or yourself) why you were uncontrollably sobbing. "hey. what happened, what is—" his voice trailed off as someone else seemed to be hurrying in your direction, calling your name, too. an exasperated george now stood besides you, breathing heavily. from running or coming in that girl's mouth, you didn't want to know.

"i've been looking for you everywhere. i can explain that," he pointed behind him, "back there." he was still catching his breath and it made you feel sick once more, taking every ounce of control to not vomit at that very second. the colour drained from your face as you started to shake, the tips of your fingers and jaw numb from a dangerous mix of anger and anxiety. he tried to grab your hand but you instantly recoiled, not wanting him to be near you, let alone touch you. "george, don’t.”

you saw as he nervously ran his long fingers through his hair thinking of what to say next. nothing. no words that came out of his mouth could provide any comfort, you were sure of that. you walked away, still trying to find the damn exit out of this hellish place. fuck george. fuck him for always pulling you in so close only to break you into one million pieces.

you finally managed to step outside, feeling lightheaded, heart still pounding in your ears. you found a dimly lit patch of grass and sat down, doing your best to focus on the cold air against your skin to try and keep him out of your mind. you felt so stupid. why did you think tonight would be any different?

great. someone was walking towards you. you stood up to leave. “please talk to me.” you turned to look at him. “please.”

“what do you want me to say, matty?” your hands covered your face as you continued to cry, not caring anymore if he heard you. you felt him inch closer, eventually putting his arms around you, holding you. “why does he always do this to me? why do i always hold on to his every word hoping that things will change? that he will actually want me.”

you felt his grip tighten around your shoulders. “he’s not worth it. he’s my best mate and i care for him deeply, but he’s not worth it,” he whispered into your hair. “please trust me on this one.”

all you could do was wrap your arms around him, yearning to hold someone close, to make you feel like you were for once safe and loved.

#matty healy imagine #george daniel imagine #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #george daniel x you #george daniel x reader #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic #matty #george #the 1975

[mrsnancywheeler]

I think Daisy seeing how Billy takes care of muse when Daisy has gotten her too high is interesting ngl

i love them all sm, and I definitely think it makes daisy a little more introspective about the situation and she understands it a little bit more.

like billy has no reservations about sticking his hands down your throat to help you throw up when you've had too much, helping you drink water, tilting your head back to help you swallow it. he knows how much you can handle and he gets you back on the track of what you're usually taking because daisy always manages to make the 3 lines you might take scattered throughout the day, 3 lines one right after the other with a bottle of champagne and a couple of beers right after and a joint.

when he's drugged up and so are you it's a completely different story, but when he's not high out of his mind he makes sure you're well taken care of and anything you say actually makes him think and feel guilty because it's so much more vulnerable.

"daisy, what the hell did you do?" he's got his hands on your face, looking at how insanely dilated your pupils have gotten.

"well, I don't know, we just kept going. it didn't feel like that big of a deal!"

"you're so irresponsible, daisy!"

"wanna sit down." the moment you say it he's helping you inside, had you on the couch.

"how much did you take, baby?"

"not enough, I said I wanted to go home. why are you here?"

"she didn't take you home and I'm glad she didn't-"

"daisy, I wanna go home." you rather unsuccessfully try to stand and billy's got you when you stumble.

"what is going on?" before daisy can chime in to answer billy, you have. because you're crying, daisy knows it's just you crying for the 100th time.

"I just want to go home, I'm sick of this. I just want to be loved, why don't you love me?"

there's a silence, a painful silence where billy is thinking, "we need to get you to throw some of this up."

and you're just crying harder because it proves something to you and daisy is just watching the chaos unfold. "I'm so stupid, just call me a taxi, I shouldn't be here."

"no, you're not gonna be alone." and you don't know know why you let him take you to the bathroom, why you let him help you throw up, why you let him get you a cup to wash out your mouth, or sit there on the bathroom floor with him. "I do love you, I just hate that you try to see me, all of me." Words whispered on the bathroom tiles before he's cleaning you up, convincing you to lay down and sleep it off, holding you until you feel somewhat better.

it doesn't really stop daisy from getting you high in the future, just a little less high, or from getting on billy's case, but she knows more why you're so stuck to each other.

sitting on rooftops with daisy drinking bottles and bottles of champagne and smoking a joint, she's scribbling down random lyrical ideas she gets from things you say. but you're losing it, she's got you thinking too much about billy, you're angry, sad, just riled up. and so when billy walks into this your time bomb is done ticking.

"daisy, what the hell!" he can already tell from scattered bottles that you've got to be drunk out of your mind.

"you're not her keeper, billy, an adult woman can handle herself. because that is what she is, isn't it?" daisy can't help herself but make digs about how everyone seems to glaze over how young you are, an adult, but not nearly as much as they are.

you're standing up, facing him, you've suddenly gained all the confidence to ask him things that you wouldn't usually dare to. "billy, what are we?"

"what? what are you talking about?" he's shaking his head and daisy is happily taking another hit off the joint. "you're my girl, you know that-"

"what does that even mean, billy? what does it mean to be your girl? label it, say it's something or maybe it means nothing to you at all, but I just wanna know where I stand. to understand who you want me to be because I have no fucking clue." and you're pushing back tears, slightly slurring your words, but they ring clear in billy's ears like the reckoning.

his hand runs through his hair, shaking his head, sighing, completely exasperated. "i-i don't know."

in the background daisy is scoffing, taking a drink, laughing slightly, "well, isn't that just a great response, you don't know."

you've spoken up before billy can shoot back, "I'm not asking to get married, I just want to know what I am to you or just what I'm not. because somedays I'm just some pair of tits that you're sick of doing lines on, another stupid fucking groupie-" your voice chokes, "and others it's like you'd hand the goddamn stars for me, your muse, your inspiration. and I don't even know what to expect, ever."

he can't think of a single thing to say that doesn't make him feel small, that express the complexities of how he's feeling. "you're drunk."

and it actually hurts him to see the way you just stare at him, letting the tears well in your eyes, "yeah." then you're laughing, grabbing the bottle from daisy to take another drink. "just go, billy, find someone much more entertaining then me. tracy has better tits anyways and they say she gives really good head-"

"I do know that-"he's taking a deep breath, swallowing, it feels like a lot to say this, "that I always want you around, near me, with me, when you're gone, it breaks me. and that I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling. look, I'm-" another deep sigh, "I'm sorry. let's just get you sobered up."

and him saying sorry must be good enough for you even if daisy knows she wouldn't have taken just that, but you're putting the bottle down, letting him get closer, "oh my god, I think I'm gonna be sick"

and she watches him nurse you through the next mornings hangover, the way he's mastered the hangover cure that helps you, the way he plays with your hair, the way he kisses your forehead, and how comforted you see by it.

yeah these are just some of my thoughts so far about it for my pookies

#wanda 💋 #billy dunne x reader #billy dunne #billy dunne x reader angst #djats x reader #anon

[theabbystabby]

Watching an antivaxxer have a meltdown in real time is some of the wildest shit I've ever seen.

#Text #My 'dad' is going off and using antivaxx propaganda he got from infowars and the like as his sources #on one of my fb posts #It's so fucking funny but also leaves me in awe #It's all he talks about in an attempt to... Defend himself? From being a bad person??? I really don't understand his insane fixation #he's completely delusional #sure old man let's get you to bed #like who the hell are your trying to convince?? #And how does this have anything to do with the subject of the post??? #It doesn't. Because you have nothing left to answer with. you KNOW you're a shitty person and can't defend it #you also got mega clowned on by my friends and you don't know how to handle that either #what a wild fuckin thing this is

[anotherpapercut]

posts with library workers discussing library business where they feel the need to make it very clear whether or not they have an MLS are so annoying. like that makes them the ultimate authority on basic ass library shit that even most regular patrons understand

#its just a bullshit class barrier and its annoying as hell seeing non library world people just accept that #it was always wild when i was a page and the MLS havers would assume i was too stupid to grasp very basic library concepts #but since ive been working and volunteering at the library I currently work at for 12 years i always know what theyre talking about #so it just ends up being this awkward interaction where theyre trying to explain something to me like im 5 #and i just cut them off and finish explaining it in more precise terms because im actually not 5 #im just not wealthy enough to go to school for 6 years in order to maybe land a 31k/yr job if im very lucky <3 #no one will ever be able to convince me that this makes sense as a masters program as opposed to a 2 year certificate program #one of my coworkers got her bachelors in fucking antiquities bc she wanted to pick the easiest possible degree #because your ba has literally nothing whatsoever to do with the mls. there are library ba programs but not many #most people end up getting a random degree that they have 0 intention of ever even thinking about again #you cant tell me thats not idiotic and specifically intended to keep out people who cant afford this

[jackdawsfavorite]

Trying to listen to something about that small college in Florida Desantis took over for politics but hearing it described as it was before reminded me of college-hunting with my mom and triggered the shit out of me.

#School was just. #Around 9-11 school stopped being something I could manage and transitioned more to like #‘’Welcome to the world! This is hell and it lasts forever. At the bottom of our pit here you can see the churning toothsome maw which it #is your sisyphean task to crawl away from even as the loose dirt of the sloping pitsides crumbles beneath your hands and feet carrying you #ver closer. If you fail to escape the maw something that brings you pleasure in life will be taken from you and you will be reconstructed #and returned to the pit to fail again.’’ #Looking at residential colleges makes me so sad to look back on because of how low my standards for my life were. #My mom was carting me around California and filling in a major for me on tour paperwork and I was trying to be as small and socially gracef #l as possible and that was it. No thought of what I wanted. No thought of my own future at all aside from a vague sense that #given how all my efforts towards anything collapsed in their infancy #I would not be the type of person who Gets Into Colleges. #And I was right! I don’t remember if I couldn’t handle the application process or if I just never got accepted to any residential colleges #r if it was a decision my mother made for me after I dropped out of high school and got a GED instead of graduating properly but I just wen #to community college for a semester. And then I convinced my parents to let me take a year off from struggling in the hell pit and they jus #let me walk out! And I never went back! And it’s only by luck of circumstance I’ve been able to get away with that! #Christ it’s 11 am and I haven’t had my breakfast smoothie. Calm down bitch.

[sage-nebula]

Post on my dash making me think that maybe the reason I prefer my ships to be healthy and happy is because my childhood and a big chunk of my adolescence was spent with abusive people, including one toxic romantic couple who stayed together even though it made no sense and made everyone else around them (read: me) miserable too 🤔

#it was my sister & her now husband . . . WHY they married each other i do not understand #but like you don't know hell until you're living in a house w/ ur abusive biomom #your toxic older sister & her abusive baby daddy & their out of control toddlers #& you are 13 & trying to explain to your sister #who btw is 21 or 22 #that her baby daddy's lips have lipstick smeared all over them #and are not chapped bc he was ''hiding in the woods from the cops all night'' #and so she should kick his ass to the curb #and she's like ''but i need him!!'' but also she goes on several hour rants abt how she is SO DONE #and he leaves to go do coke at 2am and she's pissed at him for that bc CPS could take their kids #that she DOES NOT take care of and YOU aged 13 are most responsible #and also there is NO FOOD bc your abusive biomom spent all the money on makeup and other bullshit #there WAS a packet of ramen but the ants infested that #and when you told your sister you want to leave to live w/ your dad she convinced you #that your biomom's relatives would murder him if you did that so you'd stay there with her #Hell!!!! On!!!! Earth!!!!! #. . . anyway so. there was a lot of violence in my childhood & adolescence #so maybe that. colored my fiction preferences a little.

[wizardnuke]

what's funnier for a meet-ugly fic. if it's a meet-ugly from the start ("we first met each other in a holding cell") or if it starts cute ("my grocery bag tore open on the street and they helped me pick everything up, also I got their number") and then gets ugly ("I didn't call them because I was busy and five days later we met again, in a holding cell")

#warning. long tags that got wildly off topic real fast. there's caleb meta in here #I think it's the difference between them being like 'huh. who's this guy' and the spiderman pointing meme #fic im writing doesn't have this thru a ship lens but it has a similar thing except like. it's a meet ugly where they don't exactly meet #but they see each other #smash cut four years later spiderman pointing meme in a holding cell YOU. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE #pov you're trying to convince everyone you're interacting with (while in the holding cell) (well. a dungeon) that you're an assassin from #another country but your mother in law is in the next cell over and she CLEARLY recognizes you and does NOT believe the show you're #putting on because context from the prev time you were around each other states you are not loyal to that country and that you are also a #lying liar who lies shamelessly at the first chance you get if you think it'll get you what you want. and it's making shit complicated #because she visibly wants to ask questions about why the hell you're here but you're under surveillance so she's just staring holes into #ur skull and she doesn't know she's your mother in law. this is the funniest thing I've ever written #it's a HARROWING experience for caleb in the fic. he is terrified out of his mind. but also. it's so so funny. my guy why did u do that #'caleb is a master manipulator' common misconception! he is a conman and scammer! he wishes he could operate on pure unfeeling logic and #intellect but sometimes and even oftentimes he is made of 80% panic minimum and then he commits to the bit #it's a very nuanced complicated situation etc etc but honestly a large part of it is also deirta being like what the fuck is this guy's #plan. why the fuck is he even here. and caleb's internal monologue is 'do NOT accidentally call her mother. do not do fucking not' which #is if anything making it more difficult to not call her mother. big fan of the way he refers to elders with titles I 100% think he would #call her that if he and essek were officially together. 'caleb has good social skills and awareness' common fucking misconception he is a #conman and scammer and knows vaguely what to say to get what he wants or more often how to direct attention away from what he's doing but #when he's just Being Caleb he gets to the fuckin point and that lady is his mother in law and he would refer to her as such even if #that's. a fascinating choice to make given everything about essek and also the lingering political situation between the empire and dynasty #I love caleb sooooo much I think he makes a good few snap decisions that are objectively DEEPLY unhinged and I think abt that a lot #calebs not a stable guy! I think it's rlly interesting how not stable he is even when he's doing well he has a few screws loose up there! #this is coming from someone who can relate to the irrational thinking that mental illness does I think he just sees point A to point B and #Does Shit. that's why he fireballs people when he knows it's going to trigger him. it's why he told essek to get it together instead of #killing him- he saw an ally. his morality and his decision making skills are removed from normal logic bc fuck normal logic he's caleb #widogast (sometimes- he goes by a fake name and considers himself entirely seperate from bren while he also holds himself accountable for #the crimes that bren was manipulated into committing) and its why he's Like That and I think he's neat. #I'm done now. what is this.

[new-haven-psych-ward]

trying to find good subs for shows is just deciding what your tolerance level is for:

untranslated words like language-specific honorifics, words with "too much culture-specific context" that are "impossible" to find a 1-to-1 correspondence, my nakama, or any term you saw floating around on the internet in the early 2010's and prior MAXIMUM PROFANITY where any word that could maybe be considered vulgar is taken to its FULL FUCKING POTENTIAL

the op and ed never being translated :'( waiting months for updates and not being sure if a sub group killed this project or not

#listen translating is hard #if you do this as a hobby or job i got mad respect #just subtitling in the same language is time consuming and difficult #so like having to translate on top of that? #major effort #don't let people convince you otherwise #however i hate language snobs with a vengeance #there is no True Translation #every word being translated requires a decision to be made #you will inevitably lose something when translating #HOWEVER that does not mean you should keep as many words untranslated as possible #the goal of translating is making a work accessible to more people who previously couldn't access it #if you are keeping words untranslated without explaining jack you aren't doing that #yes there are some legit big Culture jumps that can be insanely tricky to explain #but i respect people who try over those who don't #if you wanna include a text file explaining your decisions tbh that'd be rad as hell #footnote that bitch that's cool #you wanna release translations fifteen years after the fact? understandable have nice day #songs are too difficult to understand so you're skipping those? fair enough #(unless you're a company in which case what's wrong with you) #(I fucking hate how crunchyroll will switch between having themes translated or showing the lyrics) #(ik you have both you have shown me you have both - just put both on screen why are you like this) #but keeping things untranslated in the name of “Style” is pretentious as all hell #needlessly gatekeep-y