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#sending all the love to the poor victim
lewishamiltonstuff · 2 months
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You know what's fucked up about this entire Horner situation?
They were never gonna let him go. They did the investigation just to fulfill a formality. They even set the grounds for today's announcement by already posting yesterday:
"Any statement from Red Bull GmbH is expected to reflect a thorough and fair investigation, but matters of confidentiality are likely to limit the amount of information shared publicly."
By this, they just meant that whatever bullshit we post tomorrow (translation: we're not kicking him out) it'll be fair and impartial. And if someone asks us any questions (translation: we know we'll get the backlash) we can't say anything because it's a matter of confidentiality and we can't share private information (translation: you can fuck off, we don't have anything to prove him innocent, so we'll use the confidentiality clause).
And that is exactly what they did! They posted that their investigation was "impartial" and "fair" and it contains "private information".
They had been setting the stage for this all along!! Who are they trying to fool though?
I hope she takes him to court and drags him in the mud.
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shooting-love-arrows · 6 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 reacts to...cheater! reader
Request made by Anon:
Hi! I just read your post about yan 1950 house husband, it's amazing. Can you write his reaction if reader cheated on him? If you don't feel comfortable with this ask, feel free to ignore this.  Remember to take care of yourself and have a nice day.
Hello to you too, dear Anon,
First of all, I must apologize but your request suddenly disappeared from my inbox! Thankfully, I have the content of your request saved in my google docs so I pasted it above. 
Putting that aside, although this topic is sensitive to some, I am fine with writing about that. 
I appreciate your words. It's very nice of you to think about little ol' me. I wish you a nice day too (even if it's not a daytime)!
Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon!
PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x [CHEATER!] reader (gender not specified/mentioned/implied), your lovers genger isn't specified/mentioned/implied either. Don't be swayed by the curses used to describe them; Tw. cheating/indifelity from the reader, cursing, description of a m*urder, delusion (delulu is the solulu), emotional manipulation, gaslightning; A/N: As a person, I do not support this kind of behavior. This is only a piece of fiction, serving for entertaining purposes only.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Denial. Denial. Denial. At first 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 doesn’t believe it. No, he refuses to do so. You’re the most faithful and perfect partner known to the human kind. Right then, he's desperately holding on to that image. But unfortunately, evidence says otherwise. A simple photo, sent to him by your lover, secretly taken by some photographer is clearly showing you and (that whore) your lover, in some hotel room, in an intimate position. It is clear that day that you have an affair. 
“But what if my darling was forced to do this?”
That question sends him into a spiral of delusion, rage and sorrow. As a defence mechanism, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 made up a story where suddenly you were a victim in this whole situation. It was definitely your lover who has forced themselves on you. Probably blackmailed or worse, drugged you to have a taste of sweet love and burning passion you share while making love with him. 
“My poor darling…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 wailed, clenching his chest like someone was physically ripping away his still beating heart from it. Fat tears ran down his rosy cheeks, smudging his mascara and turning him into a crying mess. “I’ll avenge you, my darling. I won’t forgive what was done to you!”
He doesn’t even blink when he sends your lover into the pits of hell. There’s no hesitation when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 plans this hideous crime, making sure every detail is taken care of. And so, it begins small, like creating false and disgusting rumors about your lover. Day by day, he patiently destroys your lover's life. Until the day when 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 poisons them through his signature pie and then proceeds to repeatedly stab your lover until no one is able to recognize them in the first place. 
"YOU WENCH!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 roared at the person who happened to be your lover. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" With every word he dove the sharp, kitchen knife deeper and harder into his victim's chest. "DIE!!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 yelled for the final time and knife one last time, straight in this whore heart. He was left alone in the empty and messy kitchen, covered in blood, panting and trying to catch his breath. 
In the end, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 begins to gaslight you. Once again, with the patience of a saint, he began to manipulate you to believe that it was in fact your lover who was using you all this time. You were forced into this vile affair and you are a victim. 
“My innocent darling, you mustn't think about it (them) anymore. I will make everything perfect once again.”
But isn’t it weird how he started wearing clothes that are scarily similar to those worn by your lover? Sniff…sniff…and those perfumes…
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honey-flustered · 2 months
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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)
MDNI +18 Only!!
Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader
Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)
A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.
CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants
You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.
“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.
“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”
You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.
“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.
“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”
“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”
“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.
“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”
“I’m in!” Essie beams.
“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.
“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”
“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”
You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”
——————
The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.
With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”
“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”
“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.
“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”
Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”
Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”
“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”
“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.
“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.
“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.
“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.
“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.
You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.
Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.
A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.
“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”
You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.
“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”
“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.
You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.
Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.
“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”
He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”
“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.
“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”
“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.
————-
“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”
You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.
“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.
“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”
“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”
“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to
Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.
“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.
“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”
“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.
“Exactly.” Your father confirms.
You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”
You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”
You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.
————
Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.
Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.
“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”
“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”
“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”
“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”
“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.
“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”
“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”
“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.
“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”
—————
Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.
“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”
Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!
“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”
He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”
You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.
He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.
“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”
“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.
“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.
“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”
You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.
“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.
——————
You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.
“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”
“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”
“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.
“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.
“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”
“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.
“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”
“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.
He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.
But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.
————
The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.
Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.
“Wilbur. His name’s—”
“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”
The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.
It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.
Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.
You raise the paper to your eyes and read:
If I Were A Hobbit
If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free
I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees
With furry feet and a merry heart
From adventure’s call, I’d never depart
With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.
In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme
I’d wander the fields beneath the sun
I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun
If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid
But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid
You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.
“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”
You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”
“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”
“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”
He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”
“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.
“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”
“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.
“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.
“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.
You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.
“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”
“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”
He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.
It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.
“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.
“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”
Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.
His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.
You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.
He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.
Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.
————————-
Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.
You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.
“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”
“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”
“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”
“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.
“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”
“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”
“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.
You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”
“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”
“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.
Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.
You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.
He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.
“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.
Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?
You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.
“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”
You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.
“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”
“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.
“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”
“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”
He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”
—————
You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.
“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.
“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”
“You know D’N’D?”
“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.
“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.
“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”
“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”
“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”
“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.
“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”
“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”
“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”
“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”
He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”
You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.
“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”
“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”
There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.
“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.
“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”
Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.
“What do you want?”
You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“
“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.
“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.
“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”
“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.
“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.
“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”
“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”
“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”
“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”
“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”
“I could. Considering I am one.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”
“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.
“We’re friends?”
“Us, geeks, stick together?”
“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”
He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.
“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”
“And what about my car?”
“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.
If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.
————
Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.
“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.
Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.
You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”
“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”
“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”
“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”
“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.
“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”
“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”
“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.
Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.
Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.
“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.
“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”
“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.
“Fair enough.”
“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”
“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.
“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.
“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.
“Payback’s a bitch, love.”
—————
“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.
“Tana!”
“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.
“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”
“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”
“I’m not!” You insist.
“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”
“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.
“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”
“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”
“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.
An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.
You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.
“What the hell is this?” You sneer.
“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.
“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.
“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.
“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.
“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”
“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.
Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”
With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.
“If I could just explain...” You begin.
“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”
You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.
“I was just having fun.”
“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”
“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.
Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”
You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”
Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.
“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”
Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.
————-
You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.
A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.
“What do you want, twerp?” You say.
“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.
“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”
“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”
“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.
“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.
————
The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.
The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.
However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.
His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.
“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”
He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”
“Understand?” You ask.
“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”
“Accept?”
“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.
“You don’t hate me?”
“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.
“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”
“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”
“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.
“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.
For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.
“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.
“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”
You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”
“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.
You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”
Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”
“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”
“No way.”
“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”
“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.
“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”
“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”
“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”
“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.
He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”
“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”
“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”
“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”
“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”
“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”
“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.
“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”
He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.
“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”
“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.
He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.
Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.
The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.
“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.
“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.
“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.
And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.
He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”
“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.
Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”
And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.
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congratulations again on the followers. Can we please get the head cannons for Jason grace x daughter of Neptune reader. If your too busy or just don’t feel like it I understand. Love you❤️ and thank you
⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x daughter of neptune! reader hcs
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content: jason grace x daughter of neptune! reader hcs warning: loooooots of language my bad yall, the last few had been too clean for me author's note: YES thank you for reminding me bc i did in fact forget this was something i said i would do, LMAO anyways moving on these were good fun and on the masterlist im gonna count them as a continuation bc they are highly related so yeah, enjoy!!
okay okay WE BACK ON THE DAUGHTER OF NEPTUNE GRIND
sally adopts you instantly
her sweet salt water girl
your birthday is basically branded into the calendar along side percy's
then annabeth's is added
then jason's
then everyone elses, all of which are color coded
sally just be collecting demigod children like pokemon frfr
she doesn't care that your a daughter of neptune or whatever, doesn't even care to listen to it as she drags you into the kitchen and shoves blue cookies into your face
you and percy get matching tattoos (other than the camp jupiter ones)
below your ankles, percy got a little wave and you got a little seashell
you two lied and told everyone it was to keep you guys connected but in reality it was a lost bet to the stoll's
who were sworn to secrecy
christmases are always spent at the jackson-blofis household
at first it was just you and percy, then sally allowed jason and annabeth to come too
that then turned into a household filled with demigods, with two on the couch, four on air mattresses in the living room, and then you and percy shared a room
hazel and frank always took the couch, leo loved the air mattresses and always tried to see if he could send someone flying by jumping on it, piper always the victim as they shared. and annabeth and jason would start on the air mattresses, but always find their way to their significant other's room
it took jason three christmases to finally sneak into your room, while annabeth did it the very first second she could
look, he was scared of authority okay, leave him alone
also, doesn't help that you and percy shared a room
i just know percy was glaring up a storm
jk jk he actually likes jason, as much as a brother can like his little sister's boyfriend
he likes how soft jason is with you, gentle hands pushing your hair behind your ears and setting plates of food before you without being told
he can appreciate that jason is good for his sister, but he also loves to put on a show
"MOM! JASON GRABBED Y/N'S BUTT!!" he shouts out of nowhere, jason instantly turning the color of a traffic light and throwing his hands up like he's under arrest
"PERCY! HE DIDN'T, MOM, I SWEAR!" you're shouting back, shoving at percy with your hands
"I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES, YOU'RE NOT GONNA TRUST YOUR OWN SON, MOM??"
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU LYING PIECE OF GREEK-"
"BOTH OF YOU, KNOCK IT OFF!! look, you broke jason," sally cut in, gesturing to jason, who had still yet to move
percy looked all smug until you shoved his face down into his blue pancakes, which were naturally soaked in syrup
"you suck."
"and you swallow."
"STOP YOU'RE JUST GONNA MAKE JASON WORSE."
poor baby boy
as much as he loves you, refuses to touch you when percy or sally or really anyone is around
he's too proper and scared of pda
he's grown to be okay with holding your hand but even like brushing his hand against your waist and he's apologizing and blushing and pulling back
jason and percy both carry a lot of trauma from their amnesia and the only reason they talked about it with each other was because of you
jason talked to you about it by himself
and then percy talked about it to you by himself
and you were like...why don't they talk to each other about it???
so you locked them in the poseidon cabin and made them talk about it and it was actually super healing
"i just...everytime i forget something, it feels like im gonna forget it all, ya know?" percy murmured, pretending to superrrr interested in a spot on the floor
"if anyone knows, it's me. gods, i worry everyday that i'm gonna wake up and it's all just...going to be gone again. and what if this time, i don't get it back? i dont- i don't get her back. i got lucky, but luck always runs out," jason replied, eyes locked on the lake, which he could see through the window
"i think you'd always remember parts of her. i mean, i did with annabeth and didnt you remember y/n's eyes? i think the gods can only take away so much, i think they left behind residue because they couldn't get rid of all that. all those emotions, all those feelings, all those memories. it's a lot to erase completely," reasoned percy with a shrug before looking up at jason, his lips qurking
"you thinking what im thinking?" he offered and jason pulled his eyes from the lake with a frown.
"statistically speaking, probably not."
"wanna read y/n's diary??"
"what?! no, percy-"
"i've seen some pretty juicy stuff about you in there, grace."
"...just a peek won't hurt, right?"
they did, in fact, not just take a peek
read the whole thing
jason was super smiley coming up to you, proudly pressing a kiss to your cheek, which surprised you as you were aware of his pda issues
"looks who's all happy!! good chat with percy?" you asked with a giggle as he took your hand into his, pressing his lips to the back of your hand, drawing more giggles from you
"yeah, something like that. we just talked about, oh, i dunno, how my eyes remind him of the color of the summer sky when he was 12. oh, and how my skin just looks so nice covered in sweat and-"
"YOU READ MY DIARY, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"
"IT WAS PERCY'S IDEA!!" jason snitched instantly as he tugged his hand free and bolted away
"GREAT! I WAS LOOKING FOR A REASON TO KILL YOU BOTH!! GET BACK HERE, YOU ROMAN MOTHERFUCKER!"
405 notes · View notes
solar-wing · 13 days
Text
⚣ 5+1: TikTok Trends 🤳🏽
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⚣🤳🏽 A/N → I kept seeing all these couple trends on TikTok and it made me think of how Jason would react to these very same trends with his boyfriend...so I wrote it. tee hee WARNINGS: established relationship | social media trends | relationship goals | fluff/comfort | jason's had enough |
⚣🤳🏽 Summary → Five times Y/N did a social media trend/prank on Jason and the one time the vigilante finally got his boyfriend back.
⚣🤳🏽 Words → 3.7K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🤳🏽
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Social media is an interesting thing with a variety of uses. You could use it to connect with old friends from high school and college, remembering the good ole days. It could be a place to connect with other people in specific communities so individuals could find those they related to and shared similar views and interests with. More than ever, it could be used to spread activism and political messages.
For Y/N L/N, it was a place for him to display his loving and chaotic relationship with his boyfriend Jason Todd.
They both had very different relationships with social media.
Y/N was a whirlwind of hashtags and filters, a living embodiment of the digital age. His phone was an extension of his hand, scrolling through endless videos and GRWMs where they were always running late for whatever they were getting ready for.
The boy took his college studies seriously, but the thought never not crossed his mind that he could become a full-time content creator if he wanted to. Ask any of his friends or especially his boyfriend, the dude was a walking meme who kept hundreds to thousands of reaction pictures and videos on his phone which is something he successfully managed to get his boyfriend addicted to as well.
No seriously, it had gotten so bad that Bruce had to reach out to Y/N to see if he could get Jason to stop or at least delete the photos from his phone. Apparently, in their family group chat, his boyfriend had taken to sending some very targeted and specific images.
It was fine until Bruce said something about Jason being reckless or something and risking lives, and his boyfriend responded with some interesting images and a very petty caption.
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Jason: this u?
It was safe to say Bruce was less than amused, though apparently everyone else found it hilarious. But, sadly Y/N had to inform the billionaire that he wouldn’t be able to get his boyfriend to stop even if he tried and that he was also a victim of this new ordeal.
Bruce was confused until Y/N showed him a picture Jason sent him after Y/N refused to come cuddle him because he was studying for a midterm.
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Jason: get ur ass in here now or else...respectfully
This was the exact fun and chaotic energy Y/N wanted to share with the world on social media and TikTok. But, Jason had a different relationship with it than his boyfriend.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, Jason was a firm believer in a simpler existence, preferring face-to-face conversations over likes and retweets. He possessed a refreshing aversion to the constant buzz of notifications and the pressure to document every meal or outing.
His only exception was Twitter, where he could voice his unhinged and questionable thoughts freely without raising suspicion or judgment because it was…well, it was Twitter. 
However, that did not stop Y/N from using his poor and innocent lover in his little TikTok exploits when he wanted to.
The first one was something innocent, at least in his eyes. He and Jason were in their shared apartment near Y/N’s campus. They were lying together on the couch, with Y/N parallel to the piece of furniture while Jason sat up properly with his boyfriend’s legs over him.
He was silently reading a book while Y/N pretended to scroll through social media, fidgeting now and then when Jason would accidentally tickle his feet while unconsciously rubbing his feet. Then, the sneaky little man would pull up an audio from TikTok of a man’s voice, talking as if they were on a Facetime call.
At first, Jason didn’t think anything of it when he heard the ring from his boyfriend’s phone and he knows that he frequently calls his parents or friends. Besides, Jason knows almost everyone that Y/N knows so it definitely wasn’t out of the ordinary.
So why the fuck did he not recognize that voice that was speaking on the other end of Y/N’s phone? More than ever, why was it male?! The second he heard the random male voice ask his boyfriend why he was smiling like that, the phone was snatched out of his hand and Jason was prepared to threaten extreme bodily harm to whoever was on the other side of that phone.
So imagine his confusion when was looking back at himself.
When he noticed the recording button at the bottom, he looked toward his boyfriend who was trying his best to hold in his laughs and was doing a terrible job. Y/N made sure to snatch his phone back though so Jason couldn’t delete the footage.
Jason allowed it though despite his annoyance, seeing Y/N happy and laughing always trumped over any negative feelings he was experiencing. However, he did give his boyfriend a nice gentle lesson about what happens when he plays with the vigilante’s jealous side.
It ‘twas not gentle though, not one bit.
And Y/N was a little fucker who never learned his lesson. Proud of it too.
The second time wasn’t even a week later after he’d seen a new trend going around the clock app that he just knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
“Might be a little bit controversial but get ready with me while I give you my reasons on why cheating on your significant other is okay in certain scenarios.”
In under 5 seconds, the bathroom door shot open after the apartment sounded like a large predator had come running through it. Judging by the very unamused look Y/N was receiving, it may have been just that.
Y/N had to do his best not to laugh (or moan) at the image on his phone’s screen of a hulking, pissed-off Jason standing over him as he watched his skincare in silence. He knew his followers were going to get a kick out of this, probably detailing the filthiest things their horny little minds could cook up in his comment section like the little horny bastards they were.
Though, Y/N would be no better.
Jason still didn’t say anything, continuing to stare down at him like an angry parent who’d just been embarrassed in church by their child.
“Um, can I help you?” Y/N asked, desperately holding back the smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
Jason’s dark hair fell over his forehead, his white streak hanging lazily between as his eyes narrowed down at his smaller boyfriend, his large, intimidating arms crossed over his chest. Y/N had to take a large breath to calm down the fluttering in his stomach.
Why did his boyfriend have to be so hot? The world was not fair.
When Jason continued to not say anything, just staring silently at his lover, Y/N decided to finish his skincare in silence while checking to make sure his video was still recording.
When about five minutes passed and neither of the boys said anything, the taller and larger male started to become slightly confused. Why wasn’t Y/N saying anything? He wasn’t crazy, knowing exactly what he heard until a lightbulb went over his head and he realized what was going on.
Once Y/N finished patting his face with sunscreen, he looked up to his boyfriend to see him with a now slightly less peeved expression and more of a smug, amused look.
“What?”
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“I think I’m quite hilarious actually.”
Jason didn’t say another word before turning on his heel, slowly walking out of the bathroom back towards the kitchen with that damn slutty walk of his. Seriously, why was the universe so unfair to Y/N? Then again, he definitely wasn’t complaining.
But, just because Jason realized what was going on didn’t mean he was going to just let the harmless prank go so easily. Y/N would be reminded once again how petty his boyfriend could be in the worst ways possible.
There really should be a hotline or emergency number for guys whose boyfriends decide to tease and edge them for over an hour. These crimes should not go unchecked!
Anyways…Y/N still didn’t learn his lesson. Third time’s a charm.
By this time, Jason had become well aware that Y/N would not stop using him in his little videos and pranks, so he figured if you can’t beat em, join em. He got his own TikTok account and only followed his boyfriend while also doing his best to keep up with whatever trends were going around, especially with couples so he could stay one step ahead.
This proved very useful, as when the ‘Water’ song by Tyla became a trend all over TikTok, Jason was more than aware of what his boyfriend was trying to do when he noticed from the corner of his eyes him recording him, pretending like he was just watching the videos.
Ah ah ah, gonna have to try harder than that, babe. Jason didn’t even budge like he was going to look, not like he would’ve either way.
But, he was NOT prepared to come home one day to find his boyfriend with his tripod set up, starting the countdown timer to record a video. The second the video started recording and Jason realized what song was playing, he didn’t waste a second before running and tackling Y/N out of the camera view before he could even hit the first beat.
He didn’t care if he fell for that one, those moves were for Jason’s eyes only. Something else the vigilante was going to have to remind his boyfriend about.
But, at least when Y/N looked at the footage, he realized he finally had something to post for that trend where people ran and tackled their significant others to that Barbie Girl remix. He’d always wanted to do that trend but hadn’t met Jason yet, so he was a bit too single to do it.
The fourth time was something also a little bit simple, less of a prank and more of Y/N just being a little shit that went looking for trouble.
When Jason was once again in the kitchen cooking, with his usual tank-top and jogger combo, Y/N thought it a perfect opportunity for him to get some revenge on his boyfriend since the gargantuan male always found it funny to slap Y/N on his butt hard as shit. Vengeance was needed.
So, when Jason wasn’t looking, Y/N walked into the kitchen positioning his phone in another spot so it could see the entire action, knowing if he tried to be sneaky, the vigilante would still catch on to him and turn around. He walked up behind him and gave his boyfriend a little hug as usual and a kiss on his back, something the towering male pretended not to be giddy at.
However, his sweet, tender moment was interrupted when he felt a medium-palm land on his ass with a precision aim, leaving a tingling sting behind.
“Payback!” Y/N decreed, already turning around and running for their shared room.
When he went back and looked at the footage later, he had to admit, the view of Jason turning around slowly as Y/N scurried away was very amusing. Especially considering he layered the video with the Wii Sports fencing music as his mammoth-sized man stalked after him like a predator cornering its prey.
His vengeance did not last long.
By this time, Jason had become somewhat of a regular presence on Y/N’s TikTok account, and all of his followers wanted more content with the two of them together.
So, after a long time coming, Y/N had managed to successfully convince Jason to do a video with him on camera. They decided to do the Alphabet challenge, something Y/N thought he’d have an easy win at.
He was not prepared for his boyfriend's extensive vocabulary. “Are you ready to start, honey?” Y/N started sneakily, thinking his boyfriend wouldn’t catch it.
“Bet you thought you were slick, huh?” Jason replied with his usual smug look.
“Can you be any less smug?” Y/N said with a playful eye roll.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
At that point, it was almost like they weren’t even doing a challenge, but rather doing their usual relationship banter back and forth that just happened to be getting recorded. The longer it went on, the more chaotic it became, both boyfriends pulling the absolute wildest sentences they could think of out of their mouths to throw the other ones off.
“Suck my ass.”
“Turn around”
He’d also underestimated Jason’s lack of shame and vulgarness.
“Explain how you get a body like that?”
“From fucking whiny little pretty boys like you.”
Oh.
Yeah, he should’ve thought this one through a little more.
They’d managed to go through the whole alphabet at least three times, going from bantering back and forth to Y/N reciting lines from movies he could both think of, to Jason reciting lines from some of his favorite books. The smaller man at some point figured he could start using lines from pop culture and trends to throw his colossal boyfriend off. However, he was absolutely not prepared for him to quote the Rachel voicemail, word for word, knowing how much that whole message always made him weak.
“This is for Rachel you big, fat, white, nasty-smelling fat BITCH.”
Why did he have to put so much emphasis on the ‘bitch’ part? He threw in the towel there and let Jason have it, swearing victory on their next face-off.
Now, Y/N didn’t think it would go any farther than that. He figured he would keep making videos pranking Jason and that now and then, the vigilante would begrudgingly join in.
Oh, he was wrooong…
Frankly, Y/N should have known Jason was playing a prank on him the second he called him by his actual name instead of one of his pet names. The vigilante always got upset at him when he used Jason’s actual name instead of babe, baby, Jaybirdie, love, or even just simple Jay.
So, when Jason was not only calling him by his name but refusing to touch and or kiss him at all. Y/N absolutely should have figured something was up.
When Jason got over his initial awkwardness of physical touch in their relationship, that meant became a touch-clingy animal. Whether a hug, hand holding, cuddling, or even simple finger grazes, he needed them all. And kissing, if Y/N ever even dared leave their bedroom, let alone their apartment without giving his giant teddy bear of a boyfriend a kiss, he basically committed the ultimate sin.
So, imagine his surprise when he wakes up and leans over to give his Jaybirdie his kiss, and the big lug rolls over to the other side of the bed before his lips can even get close. Never mind the fact that he woke up and Jason was not cuddling him, hugging, or even just touching him for the matter.
But, he figured Jason was just out of it, discombobulated after waking up or something, and needed a moment. Then, when he was getting ready for his classes and making breakfast, Jason came out and Y/N plated his food for him while grabbing some juice from the fridge.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
Immediate strike two.
Y/N immediately turned around to his lover who was slowly eating his food, rather than inhaling it like he usually does which is why Y/N always has to make extra because the man is still hungry after the first plate. He gave him a weird look and just shrugged it off like he was hearing things, continuing to fill up the glass of juice before handing it over to the vigilante.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
There it was again. Okay, so he wasn’t imagining shit.
And, now that he was thinking about it, Jason was acting really weird. He didn’t come in and hug from behind like he does when Y/N is cooking. He hasn’t made one lewd sexual joke all morning. Heck, he’s barely looked towards the smaller male since this morning.
“You’re welcome. Is everything okay?”
Finally, Jason looked up at him, but it was with a straight face instead of his usual small smile or even the smirk that he always seemed to carry.
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know, you just seem like you’re upset about something. Did I do something to make you mad?” Y/N asked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and uncomfortable. He was not used to this behavior from Jason. It was almost like the beginning of their relationship when the vigilante wouldn’t be very guarded against him because he didn’t trust him yet. A feeling he was very happy to forget.
“No, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Are you okay?” Jason asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just worried about you, I guess. You seem quiet.”
“I’m good, Y/N. You don’t need to worry about me.” Jason said, going back to scrolling on his phone while eating.
“Oh, okay,” Y/N said softly, looking down at the ground and feeling very out of place all of a sudden.
On the other end, he didn’t realize how much it was KILLING Jason on the inside to keep up this ruse. He was just about ready to fold and call it quits this morning when he turned over and avoided his boyfriend’s kiss.
Now, he felt absolutely disgusted and horrible at how hurt Y/N looked. He planned to wait it out until he got back from his classes, but he knew right at that moment he wasn’t going to be able to make it that long. He underestimated how much seeing his boyfriend upset would affect him.
“Alright, well, I’m gonna head to my class now. Text me if you want to meet up for lunch.”
“Okay,” Jason said, not saying anything else which he could see was visibly confusing Y/N even more.
He knew that Y/N didn’t like to push because of Jason’s boundaries, always rather giving him space than crowding him and trying to force him to tell him what was going on. It did nothing to help alleviate the guilt he was feeling.
When Y/N came over to try and give Jason a hug and goodbye kiss and Jason visibly moved away, the vigilante wanted to kill himself right at that moment at the wounded expression all over the boy’s face, who just moved to grab his bag, keys, and phone and damn near ran for the door. That was a clear strike three for the college student.
Absolute shit Jason felt like.
When he heard the front door open and slam, he immediately jumped up, grabbed his phone, and ran after his boyfriend who was booking it towards the stairs.
“Y/N, wait.”
When he made no moves to slow down, Jason had to pull out the vigilante moves to catch him since he was nearly out the complex door.
“Baby, stop. I was just messing with you,” He said, grabbing his boyfriend and planting kisses all over his face.
“No, that’s not funny. Get off me you jerk,” Y/N said not making any move to push Jason off which the vigilante smiled at.
“I’m sorry, but now you know how it feels,” Jason showed Y/N his phone that had been recording the entire interaction, “Payback,” He declared, clearly mocking the smaller boy.
Y/N rolled his eyes before heading back inside with his boyfriend who showered him with love and kisses for his prank but made fun of him the entire time. And it didn’t stop there.
Jason did scare pranks, couples challenges where they had to answer questions (his favorites were the ones that came with punishments like dunking each other’s head in water or getting hit with a pillow), and more.
It was the reaction memes all over again.
But, there was still one challenge he hadn’t come across yet that Y/N did and was more than ready to do on his boyfriend.
They were currently sitting in the car, spending a day out together since Y/N's load from his classes was light and there weren’t any cases Jason was working on with himself or his family either. They were parked in a parking garage outside a shopping center, having just come back from shopping and grabbing some food inside when Y/N set up the camera.
“Babe, what are you doing?” Jason asked while stuffing his face with the freshly baked pretzel bites they got.
“Saw this new couple challenge on TikTok and wanted to do it,” He said, setting up the phone mount and adjusting it so it had him and Jason in full view.
“So, I saw this new challenge where couples are asking their partners random questions about each other and seeing who knows more about the other. So me and my husband are going to do the same thing and I’m going to start.” Y/N said into the camera.
The moment it came out his mouth, Y/N could see the initial surprise on his face turn into a small smile, but he didn’t say anything or question him, so he kept going. As he did his best to think up random questions to ask Jason, he kept referring to him as his husband, increasing the smile to a shit-eating grin the longer it went.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Y/N asked.
“I’m your husband now?” Jason asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, is that a problem?” Y/N asked with his own raised eyebrow.
“Absolutely not,” Jason said, not saying another word as Y/N ended the video. He pulled out his phone as they finished their food and Y/N showed the original challenge that everyone was doing, agreeing with him when he called the guy from the original video a complete idiot.
But, he definitely noticed Jason not being as discreet as he thought he was, immediately noticing Jason’s browser on his phone being pulled up to engagement rings.
Oh boy.
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☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
256 notes · View notes
keto-keyes · 2 months
Text
The Slytherins at Valentines
Imagine/preference
In celebration of the day of love, I have taken it upon myself to commit to paper how I imagine the Slytherins would celebrate Valentines with their S/O
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Mattheo Riddle:
Mattheo would probably act like he'd forgotten until right at the last minute before it was time to head to sleep for the night
and practically dump a whole-ass pile of presents on his S/O's head.
definitely expects you to cuddle w/ him
he's the little spoon obviously
would constantly whisper things like:
"You thought I forgot, didn't you?"
"...Dumbass thought I'd forget the best day ever"
If you correct him, you lose your gifts
If you don't, smug ass bf forever
Choice is yours
He never really shows how touch-starved he is until Valentines Day, when he can snuggle with you and kick all the others out of your dorm without hearing you complain
not that you ever do
Basically, cuddles and rich-man benefits from the king of puppy eyes.
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Tom Riddle:
This man... he is so romantic about how he spoils his S/O
A single rose, or a ring or some other piece of jewellery
Watch out, he'll present it at breakfast with a modest little card and expect you to wear it all day without fail.
might even buy you a crown fitting for the queen of the slytherins
doesn't like PDA, so none of that
Subtle smiles in your direction, maybe even a blown kiss
will love exchanging coded love letters with you like the little nerd he is
if you expected him to be cold like usual, he's not
other kids get time off from being victims, he's moony about you for a change
probably even brings small little things he finds to give you in-between classes
a feather, a dropped quill, some cookies he "borrowed" from some useless gryffindors
Mattheo couldn't stop teasing him after he caught Tom plucking nice-smelling herbs from the potions closet
You might need to stop him killing his brother
he's a gentleman, alright?
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Theodore Nott:
Italians know how to Valentines Day
the saint is literally FROM Italy
and theo is rich. So....
Presents. lots of presents
anything you need
kisses also. lots of kisses
mans really loves kissing you. he'll never say no to PDA
staring at you for HOURS
dude has a stare like looking into the ocean - beautiful but somehow also makes you self-conscious
whispering to you in italian
even if you can't understand him, you know he's either complimenting you or whispering blasphemy about whichever first year last crossed his path
he likes to sit you on his lap when he can and rub your thighs or massage your shoulders
shoulder and neck kisses when you do
he doesn't like to be too far away from you, like any good clingy bf
will definitely need you to tell him to stop holding your hand or your waist before he does
maybe needs reminding multiple times. especially with other guys around
double the soft boy on the day of love
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Draco Malfoy:
expect this boy to become very clingy
he's attention-starved, remember?
but he will give his S/O lots of gifts and presents to celebrate love
cards, messages via flying paper crane, roses, rings, ripped out passages of books from the forbidden section of the library, all the romantic gifts
he prefers to give little pecks on your cheeks when he can, but if not, definitely hand kisses.
i kid you not, he will get down on one knee with his usual gentlemanly demeanour just to kiss your knuckles
give this poor boy lots of kisses please
he needs them
play with his hair, let him be the little spoon
not that he isn't usually
he just won't let any of the others know that
holding hands
terrorising first-years
sending cutesy love letters to one another without the professor knowing
or zipping them right past mcgonagal's ear, if you live on the wild side
either way, he's so soft and squishy
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Blaise Zabini:
i have come to inform you that this man will skip school for you
you're not feeling potions today, rather go out on the town? done
he does not care
you both get good grades anyway
all the sweets
sugar is his love language, and, funnily enough, your pet name
letting you wear his jackets
kisses. give this man some kisses
holding hands whenever you can.
i headcanon his hands are huge.
like giant sized
him smiling to himself whenever he sees you
"How did I manage to score this little sugarcube?"
yep, another sugar-themed pet name
you are like a little flower he needs to preserve (an icing flower, if you catch my drift)
another member of the touch-starved trio
he can do your hair for you (if you have long hair), but ONLY if you sit on his lap
this man knows french. and danish
did you know danish is one of the most beautiful languages on earth? well, you will soon
he likes muttering how pretty you are in danish. and how much he loves you
also, mans is a legit beanpole boy
he will rest his head on yours. he is just that tall
anyway, he loves you in 3 languages fam
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Pansy Parkinson:
probably wants to make sure you both have the same number of presents
you'll always have one more than her somehow. like, how does someone forget they bought you the cat (or some other household pet) you always wanted?
isn't happy until she can constantly see a smile adorning your features
like Blaise, she will do your hair for you (if you have hair)
she buys THE NICEST necklaces and bracelets. not even Tom can compare
she can also speak french, but she'll only open up and start speaking it when you tell her you love her in your native language
will find pretty flowers to put in your hair or behind your ear so you can constantly smell of that flower
holding hands. there is no excuse
showing you off to the boys, making them pretend to have never met you before
no-one is allowed to make you smile except her. so, please stay away from Mattheo and Enzo for the day
will contain her anger and short temper for you
she's the little spoon.
you must comfort her. dealing with 6 boys everyday is tough
you're like royalty for a day, deal with it
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Lorenzo Berkshire:
cheesy gifts. no cap
small flowers out of decorative bouquets? check
a flower or butterfly pin? yessir
constant hand-holding
teasing you
lip bites, squeezing your thighs, twirling strands of either of your hair
he is a major flirt, contrary to popular belief
he thinks you are the most adorable thing ever
loves to tell you how gorgeous you look
master gentleman in action, ladies and gents
singing cheesy love songs
mans will serenade you
he is the big spoon, for reasons you may never know
perhaps he likes holding his world in his arms
that's right folks, you are his WORLD
and nothing will stop him from telling you that as you nap in his arms instead of going to potions
372 notes · View notes
glasseffynity · 1 year
Text
HANDS-ON LEARNER ft. SPENCER REID, READER
Warnings: Fingering, masturbation (somewhat), praise (so much), sex in front of a mirror, mentions of insecurities + poor body image (reader), implied Afab reader, Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader
Wc: 1,386
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In all your years of living, you've never experienced humiliation quite as stark as this.
Fully exposed, legs spread wide, giving Spencer complete, unobstructed access to your core. Your legs are draped over his, allowing him to keep you from altering your position as his hand glides in and out of your center, thumb languidly tracing circles into your clit.
Your humiliation isn't derived from your albeit compromising position, no; Nor is it derived from the uncharacteristically lewd words softly tumbling from Spencer's lips, worming their way through your ear and into your brain; It isn't even the fact that you're spread out for him, completely bare, losing more of your composure by the second while he remains fully clothed and unbothered, save for the bulge growing in his pants. The source of your embarrassment, what makes you want to dig yourself into a hole and never come out, is the giant mirror placed in front of the both of you, forcing you to watch your own debauchment.
It isn't as though Spencer's intentions were at all sadistic; He holds a wealth of knowledge, not excluding that of the human anatomy, and what kind of a man would he be if he didn't extend his intelligence to his other half?
The work the two of you do leaves little time to unwind, to cope with the stress that inherently comes with tracking down some of the worst minds humanity had to offer. What little time you have away from work is usually spent sleeping, and even that's become a challenge. But you should've known your boyfriend wouldn't let you fall victim to the cruel grasps of insomnia, so he'd kindly taken it upon himself to assist you in your conquest to de-stress after a particularly tough case.
"It's honestly no surprise that studies have shown that approximately 21 percent of all Americans use masturbation as a way to de-stress," Spencer murmurs, his lithe fingers continuing to invade your cunt, eliciting yet another strained whimper from your lips as you observe his ministrations in the mirror. "Orgasms cause the brain to release Dopamine, which is primarily viewed as a "pleasure chemical", and Oxycotin, which brings on feelings of love and affection towards others." What you would normally consider irritating from anyone else will always be endearing in your eyes when coming from Spencer ; You've always known his rambles and statistics have come from a place of affection, to share all that he knows with the people that he cares so deeply about. And providing a more logical perspective to the mess gradually building between your thighs ebbs away a tad of the embarrassment, slightly dissipating your urge to bury your face in Spencer's chest and never come out.
Deciding it's time for you to aid in your own release, Spencer gently takes your hand, previously clenching onto his bicep, and drags it down to your clit, lightly rubbing circled into your center. The jolt it sends through you doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer, who merely chuckles and continues on as casually as he would if he was turning the page of his favorite book.
"What aids the most in de-stressing during an orgasm is the gradual shutdown of the Lateral Orbiofrontal Cortex, the part of the brain responsible for logic and decision-making; Deactivation of this part of the brain is also commonly associated with reductions in fear and anxiety," Spencer muses, continuing to drag your hand further down to the source of your wetness, pushing it deep into your hole. Your smaller hands don't quite reach as deep as Spencer's do, but with the right technique, he's confident they'll have the same effect. Pressing on your knuckles to get you to curl your fingers, Spencer continues to observe you in the mirror. "Beautiful." He doesn't mean to say it, likely doesn't even notice it, but the words send a pang straight to your core, and you involuntarily clench, which he does notice. Spencer doesn't bother asking if you liked that; He already knows what the answer would be, and you hardly seem coherent enough to answer. "What you're currently touching, judging by your expression, is your G-spot; formally known as the Grafenberg Spot, it's partially responsible for about 82 percent of orgasms in women, or any orgasms caused by something other than regular penetration." It's no wonder Spencer could so easily tell you'd reached your G-spot; You'd elicited a shaky gasp as you found it, your brows furrowing as your eyes rolled back. Any witty comments you might have made died on your tongue as Spencer resumed massaging you clit, adding to the already overwhelming stimulation.
Refusing to ease up on you, Spencer gently rests his head on your shoulder as he continues to observe the way you fall apart so stunningly; Amber eyes reflect nothing but admiration and adoration for you. This may be the first time you've aided in doing so, but Spencer has made you finish around his fingers enough times to know when you're nearing orgasm.
Admittedly becoming more lax on his original goal for you to watch the entirety of his actions, Spencer gently grips your chin with his free hand, turning your face to look at the mirror. Noticing you still advert your eyes from your reflection, he nuzzles his head further into your shoulder, hand dropping down to hug your waist. "I want you to watch," he asks softly, honeyed eyes pleading with you in the mirror. "I want you to see yourself the way I do, the way I always have." Any hesitance you have eases away as Spencer rubs circles into your waist, encouraging you to reach your end. Forcing yourself to meet your gaze in the mirror, you hold eye contact, even when what you see staring back at you makes you want to cringe, makes you want to look away, makes you want to hide yourself from the beautiful man who's sitting behind you, coaxing you ever so gently to finish. Even with insecurity looming at the back of your mind, you continue to massage your abused clit and prod at the spongey, raised lump within your core; Spencer remains ever-so-loyal by your side, softly encouraging you with murmurs of, "That's it," "'Atta girl," "Doing so good for me."
He's fully aware of your hesitancy when it comes to being accepting of yourself, always has been, and Spencer has always been more than willing to do whatever it takes to get you to become even slightly less adverse towards yourself, whether it be by sitting in between your legs for hours, lapping at your clit until you have to physically push him away, or pounding himself into you until you can barely remember your own name, much less any insecurity you may possess. And yet, his current method, despite the overwhelming amount of stimulation received by you, seems much more gentle, much more personal. Instead of a sole effort on his part to change your perception of yourself, he's given you an active role in it as well, allowing you to face your insecurities head-on while doing so.
Spencer may be determined in his pursuit of adjusting your attitude towards yourself, but he's still merciful; When your hand begins to tire, he gladly takes over, his long fingers picking up where you left off. Feeling your muscles begin to tense, his pace quickens, leaving no chance for your orgasm to fade. As you finally reach your peak, Spencer renews his grip on your chin, forcing you to watch yourself as you finish. He could watch you cum a thousand times and it would never be any less breath-taking: Your brow furrowed, plush lips forming an O, eyes fluttering back into your head; You're truly a work of art in Spencer's eyes.
As the euphoria fades and your mind becomes clear again, your muscles give out; Thankfully, Spencer, ever the gentleman, is there to catch you. "Don't give out on me just yet, Sweetheart," he jokes, eyeing your lips as he holds your hips, keeping you sitting up. "Wasn't planning on it," You respond, reaching up for a quick peck to his lips. Spencer has other plans though, deepening the kiss as his arms wrap around your waist.
"Good, because I have plenty more to teach you."
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ma1dita · 6 months
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to love is to rest
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words: less than 1k
summary: Regulus whispers sweet nothings to you as you sleep.
warnings: none :) regulus x gn!reader, sleepy babies in love, he is an overthinker poor baby, children at war
a/n: had to get this sleepy little regulus oneshot out of my head! thanks for the love & feel free to send more requests & yell at me in the comments ; barely edited sorry i just want to be HELD
(posted: 10/17/23)
Regulus doesn’t even remember falling asleep. It was hard to, with the war looming over the horizon. He’d lay awake in bed for hours, pouring over strategies on how to take down the Dark Lord until sleep would rob him of consciousness, without permission. He fights back with fists, wrangling it in his smooth hands with copious amounts of dark roast coffee and ambition. Sirius always said he was a fighter, but he moreso believes that he is one who endures. There isn’t much of a choice in it all, despite the fight he puts up. One must fall victim to sleep, and Regulus is familiar with having to endure the choices life makes for him.
“Baby? What time is it?” he mumbles, sleep still clutching at his eyelids.
The room is dimly lit and the candles are burning low. Blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the darkness, he observes his surroundings and notices that you are nestled into his side, nose against his heart and lightly snoring. Cheekbones framed in moonlight and a little pool of drool over the beating in his chest, Regulus would’ve never thought love to be so soft. Love has been portrayed to him as a scary, unsightly thing—proclamations that cut like swords, a fierce grip that bruises, a performance that marks one forever. But as he smiles and traces your spine over the shirt you stole from his trunk, he realizes he’s never known a love like yours.
“I didn’t know how much I could love until I met you.” he whispers.
Having you here in his arms with only the moon as his witness, he worships you as if you’re something divine. He believes this so strongly because loving you is easy, with no expectations to uphold the family name, no etiquette to perfect, or punishment other than the one he brings upon himself if he gets it wrong. He wonders what must’ve gone right in his past lives so that he can hold someone so closely—someone so angelic. He's far from religious but he’d do anything you ask him to, and you believe in him too much for him to fail. The faith you have in him could give him the strength to survive any unforgivable curse, any death sentence the Dark Lord orders him so as long as he can run home to you. There’s so much he has to do at 17, so much to more to live for— and it’s inconceivable how much he prays to survive long enough to see you at ease.
“You don’t even know how little I loved before I loved you. You don’t even know…”
Should his chest dare give in at this exact moment, he reckons he could make his bones a home for you to live in. At least you’ll have something to remember him by, and his love will be immortalized by you, echoing into the next lifetime until you find each other again. There is nothing more mortifying than to be forgotten. Your hand reaches his forearm and for once, he doesn’t flinch. Regulus presses kisses onto your wrist so that you can carry it with you tomorrow, until you ask him to replenish you with more. His nose glides along your hairline, pressing kisses so that your mind won’t forget. He hopes these acts of love reach your subconscious, that in every plane of existence, you know of him.
“I cannot wait to live the life I stayed for. This is all for you, my love. I promise.”
A sharp inhale comes from your nose as you shift, waking from a dream. Your lips carve another soft spot onto his chest, and he is utterly yours. Fingers reach to cradle his jaw, smiling sleepily as you settle back into his space. His mind is finally empty, finally at peace—even if it’s just for tonight, he can be just a boy in bed with the person he loves.
Sleep covers the both of you slowly, and gently. He shuts his eyes once more and lets it envelop him without a struggle. Yes, he doesn’t know much about love, but for you, he’ll figure it out. For now, Regulus Black is at ease.
Love,
you claim, comes close to this,
no space
between your words, a hand
over the other’s heart. How do you live
with this distance?
-Nick Flynn
taglist: @jsjcue
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shunsuiken · 9 days
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cw. MDNI + afab!reader + pussy eating + he plays with your clit hehe + ayato is so horny for you
ayato eats your pussy as a reward for the boring day he's spent around stubborn inazuman officials. after washing up, he gets comfortable with you in bed and lets you talk about what you did during the day—because whatever you've done today is definitely more interesting than the useless conversations of those old men who only seem to be able to ramble.
he props his upper body up with an arm, holding his face in his palm while you speak. you talk about some of the gossip circulating around inazuman nobility, about thoma inviting you all for another round of a hotpot game and lots of other things.
oh but one particular thing he loves most about this moment is the way your lips move, it’s the moisture from your lip balm that makes them look glossy and sweet. it does something to make you look daintier.
this is where ayato finds himself hungry.
so after duly acknowledging everything you've told him, he places a gentle hand on your waist, running it up and down the line of your figure. you don't miss the way his eyes travel up and down your body, like you're a gift to be unwrapped, you can't blame him! it's been so long since you both have been intimate.
what you don't realise is that ayato has other plans. suddenly, your legs are spread wide open for his eyes to feast on, porcelain fingers lifting the material of your yukata to pull your panties down. with just the sight of your wet pussy, he groans and brings himself down so he can give your cute clit one big fat kiss, your slick sticking to his now glossy lips.
you inhale sharply when his lips touch you, anticipating his next move. his arms hold your thighs down on the futon, tongue latching onto your now hard bud to give cute little kitten licks.
“nggh—ayato, s- stop doing that!” ayato’s lips curl when your moans turn into whines, you start twitching under him and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting a hard on from you behaving just like this.
“stop doing this?” ayato lays his tongue flat against your folds and swipes the muscle upwards, making your back arch and jaw drop, successfully earning those cute and soft moans from you.
you gasp, “oh fuck that feels good, ‘yato.” your fingers reach for his hair, holding onto him while you get lost in the feeling of his tongue pampering your clit.
the groan that leaves ayato’s throat vibrates onto your folds and you shudder under him. a thin sheen of sweat forms on his forehead at the sight of you displayed like this for him. if it were not for his skilled tongue, you would be able to catch a glimpse of his dilated pupils.
he chuckles softly, leaving your clit lonely for a moment. “now it looks like we're both wearing lip balm," ayato jokes but it takes you a few seconds to process what he’s said.
“you stopped just to tell me that?” ayato grins at the tone in your voice, he loves playing with you, his little lover who always gets what they want.
your chest rises and falls heavily from his teasing. your poor hair a victim to his intimate touches, messily spread across the futon. but most importantly, your lips are slightly parted, swollen from biting them, glistening in your spit whenever you licked them.
he hums, resting his cheek on your inner thigh as his thumb toys with your hard clit. “personally, i would rather listen to how you call for me in those short little breaths you make instead of those imbeciles in expensive attires.”
you struggle to make a response when his thumb rubs against you like that, slowly, circling your bud to send short sensations up your spine. “uh-huh…” your head falls back as your eyes flutter shut again.
“oh my apologies,” ayato chuckles fondly at the sound of the soft rustling your head makes against the futon. his thumb leaves your clit alone before replacing it with his warm tongue. “allow me to continue.”
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frost-queen · 5 months
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The moment I knew // part 7 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya
Summary: The social season goes on continuing with another ball. Yet this ball holds some surprises. Will it make a change for the better? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 8 & part 9 ]
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Tewkesbury tapped his finger mindlessly against the hard glass. His mind somewhere else, vision unclear. The upmost bored expression on his face. He heard his grandmother tsk loud for him to change his posture. – “Sit up straight boy!” – she called out as the carriage took a turn, riding on a gravely road. When Tewkesbury wouldn’t move she revealed her fan, giving him a hard slap against the hand with it.
“Au!” – Tewkesbury snapped awake, startled by the sudden whip on his fingers. His grandmother hummed loudly with a glance that it was his own fault. He exhaled deep rubbing his poor fingers. He straightened his posture, leaning back against the fabric as the carriage toggled a bit. His grandmother gave him a look for off judgement. Tsking her tongue again.
Tewkesbury tilted his head slightly knowing she just had a comment burning on her tongue. – “It’s the third ball already. When are you going to show any REAL interest in a young woman.” – she emphasized on the matter of real. – “I sure hope you don’t thinking to form an alliance with that wild girl.”
Tewkesbury knew she was referring to Enola. – “She was quite nice to return my child back to me, but good heavens her features aren’t standard. She has a heart too wild. Marrying a girl like that will only give you trouble, I’ll give you that.” – she spoke glancing out of the window. The skies light dimming out. A greyness colouring all that was bright away for the night to take over.
Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window. Watching the street lights being lighted up with their bright fires. Two men standing on a ladder to give the lantern light. A couple walking arm in arm just passing them by. – “What about the season’s diamond? She isn’t the fairest…” – his grandmother brushed her skirt with her gloves.
“Whatever possessed the queen to chose her. No foul words to her majesty.” – she quickly added as if speaking ill of the queen would cause her harm. – “Yet, she would be a good match. Marrying the season’s diamond always hyphen’s up once’s status.”
Tewkesbury sighed deep as a sign of protest. He wasn’t at all interested in the season’s diamond. There was only one calling his heart, yet she no longer wishes to commit herself to him. Perhaps it was partly his fault. He still didn’t know what possessed him that faithful night at the first ball. He had been exciting all day eager to see you again. A year. An entire year he hadn’t seen you. Only making him yearn for your presence more. It was nice to have you around. His feelings still a bit unclear at that moment. In the beginning it was merely out of boredom.
That was how it all started at the opera. The moment he found a willingly victim to laugh with him. To make the dreadful opera bearable. At first he teased a lot. Playing in on the signals you were sending him. A young girl gushing over a boy. Probably the first boy around her age she had met. As girls at that age were, falling hopelessly in love with each boy that flashed them a smile. Then he started to get to know you better. See more sides of you.
It was perhaps then that he had already started to fall for you, yet it wasn’t known to him yet. A bundle of feelings he couldn’t name yet, tumbling in his stomach. Spiralling and tumbling. It became clear to him the moment you returned the acorn to him. That stupid thing he foolishly had given to you in exchange for his ring. His father’s ring he should’ve never parted from.
Holding the acorn in his hand and watching you dance with someone else made him realize what he was losing. How much nights he had wasted with not being near you. It had created a drift between the two of you. – “No foolish sauntering this time. I expect you to be married off by the end of the season. It is my dying wish.” – she had clasped her hands together, looking up to the ceiling. Tewkesbury scoffed silently.
“To have me out of the house.” – he mumbled to himself. – “What was that boy?” – she snapped at him. – “Nothing grandmother.” – he responded quickly avoiding her stern eyes. – “Thought so.” – she flapped out needing to have the last word. Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window again seeing how much the sky had darkened already. The blinding estate of the next ball coming up in sight.
You had followed your siblings inside. Hand on Anthony’s arm. He sighed loud upon entering. You quirked your lips teasingly up. – “Oh how dreadful it is.” – you acted out dramatically with the back of your hand against your forehead. Your little act made Anthony look at you, puzzled. – “Another ball I have to keep my sisters save from. God forbid they find a match and leave from under my wings.” – you added sounding as silly as you could.
Anthony stared in shock at you as Francesca laughed loud. – “It isn’t funny.” – Anthony told you sternly. It made you press your lips together to withhold yourself from laughing at him. – “Oh come on Anthony.” – Benedict pitched in grabbing him by the shoulder. – “I thought Y/n did a great performance of you.” – he chuckled afterwards squeezing his fingers in Anthony’s shoulder. You let go of him arm, standing in front of him to curtsy as if being applauded.
Anthony brushed Benedict’s hand off him with annoyance. – “Poor Anthony being so teased by his younger siblings.” – Colin interfered wanting to have a say in it. Anthony turned to look at Mother. Violet tried her best to hide her smile, yet failed miserably. To Anthony’s annoyance as he stormed off. – “Oh Anthony don’t be so… it was a mere tease.” – Violet called out going after him.
Benedict came to your side, holding his palm up to you. You pressed your palm against him, snickering at your own tease. Arms locked in you followed mother who tried to reach Anthony. Anthony took halt by a set of vases. Half filled with flowers and peacock feathers. Francesca came running up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. – “You are so easily teased.” – she said with a smile. Anthony looked up to the ceiling not wanting to give in, but when you joined her.
Wrapping your arms around him at his other side, he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. Holding both of you for a warmful hug. The moment was ruined when Benedict decided to join in from behind, giving him a good squeeze. Nearly making him fall forwards. He nudged his elbow back at Benedict to get him off his back. Benedict let go of him, winking at you. Benedict stretched out making Anthony roll his eyes at him.
“I thought you had learned manner yet.” – Anthony spoke. Benedict lowered his arms from stretching up. – “Oh brother you must know me.” – he chuckled out giving him a hard slap against his back. A gentleman came over around Colin’s age. He invited him for a game of cards. Colin accepted dragging Benedict with him.
You stood with Francesca and mama, watching the dancers. A girl you had met before once came running over. – “They have peacocks in the garden!” – she called out unable to control her enthusiasm. Francesca and you looked at each other with delight and shock. – “Girls!” – Mama called out the moment the two of you started to run. Wanting to get to the gardens and see a peacock for real. – “Oh I wish it would open it’s feathers.” – Francesca huffed out pressing herself between people to get across.
Holding onto her hand tightly, you were behind her, trying to squeeze through those your sister just went passed. You were near the glass doors that lead up to the stone pedestal with steps downwards into the gardens. Many people wished to gaze upon the peacocks to be found in the garden. Francesca and you came to a brief halt as you locked eyes with a certain girl on your right.
The one who had danced with Tewkesbury. Her expression neutral. She went on going through the glass doors as Francesca followed taking the doors on the left. You had remained still, allowing your hand to slip out of hers as she got swept up in the crowd. Somehow the moment seemed ruined. No longer you contained any excitement for the animals. Moving a bit backwards, you went back further in.
Yet you didn’t wish to return to your mother who was clearly searching for Francesca and you. Neither did you wish to return to your brothers. Not even being allowed in the rooms where they played cards and gambled on the side. It was a secret, a hush-hush but everybody knew about it anyways. You decided to leave the ballroom for what it was. The music fading out when you went into the corridor. Most of the doors were closed. Others were open.
A group of people chattering and laughing loud with drinks in their hands. You passed them all feeling no need of entering a room full of strangers without the presence of your brothers. By the end of the corridor you were intrigued by a door partly opened. Not enough to peer inside, but wide enough to see a warmth glow come from inside of it. You neared the door staring through the creak to have a look inside.
Eyes widening at the sight of Tewkesbury. You gasped loud when he suddenly turned around spotting you. It had startled you, making you bump your shoulder against the door and trying to make a run for it. Tewkesbury hastened himself to the door, opening it more. – “Y/n!” – he called out. It made you stop. – “I mean Miss Y/n.” – he corrected himself. You took a step forwards not sure if you wanted to be around him. A second step was impossible as you felt a force keep you in place by your skirt.
Looking over your shoulder down, you saw Tewkesbury’s grip on your skirt. Your gaze went up to meet his. Full of sadness his eyes were. Perhaps yours were too. – “Please…” – he whispered, a hush almost unheard. Taking a deep breath, your shoulders slouched down. Unspoken you followed him back into the room, not sure why you did. The room was not that grand. Rather small. An armchair and small table positioned in the room.
White curtains with patterns on them. Here and there some trinkets. You went to sit down on the armchair, hands folded in your skirt. Tewkesbury stood up straight looking down at a small table. It contained a perfume bottle and a fan. It felt weird. Awkward to say the least. As if you were strangers again. Tewkesbury cleared his throat picking up the perfume bottle. You turned your head to look around the room.
Tewkesbury leaned forwards trying to sniff the smell. Accidently spraying in his face. He coughed loud, waving a hand in front of his face. Setting the perfume bottle back. – “I saw that girl head outside to see the peacocks.” – you said having the urge to cut through the silence. – “Enola.” – Tewkesbury replied as it made you hum confused.
“Oh…” – hearing him say her name made you turn your head away. It felt strange. Strange how your heart still yearned for him. Even in this moment. You wanted to run over to him, leap in his arms and hear him say how much he wants you. Tewkesbury understood the notion of your reaction, looking down at the table. He picked up the fan to occupy himself. – “Where is your suitor?” – he asked. You hummed confused looking up to him. Tewkesbury looked back at you opening the fan with a smooth movement.
It made you blink startled. – “That boy you danced with.” – Tewkesbury flapped the fan at himself keeping his eyes on you. – “I’m sure he has proposed by now.” – He went on unable to stop himself from yearning for you. For hoping you’d contradict his words. As a response you snorted loud. It made him curl up a smile not fully understanding what was this amusingly. – “I’ve danced with him once. Let’s not get too far ahead.” – you responded with a smile.
Tewkesbury’s smile got brighter feeling the tense atmosphere from before falter. – “Besides he’s not a prince.” – you added with a smile. – “Or a Viscount.” – Tewkesbury whispered out of ears reach. – “Enola seems nice.” – you told him. Tewkesbury flashed the fan in front of him again near his cheek. To you unknown, but to him full of words.
“She’s a terrible dancer.” – he commented making you laugh. – “Laugh all you want, I have the bruised toes to speak for me.” – he added as you started to laugh even harder. Hearing your laugh made him smile widely. In this moment it felt like heaven to him. He drew the fan down his cheek again to you. – “What are you doing?” – you questioned seeing it was the third time he had performed it. – “Fanning.” – he responded with a cheeky smile. – “It is hardly warm here… unless you are doing something else…” – you answered.
“Nothing else.” – he muttered out, looking away. Having a sense of time, you got up. Tewkesbury hasting him to your side. – “My siblings must wonder where I am.” – you spoke hearing your heart thump louder in his presence. – “Of course.” – he answered staring smitten down at you. You wanted to open the door as Tewkesbury was ahead of you. Opening it for you and allowing you to walk out. You went on, looking briefly over your shoulder back to him.
Unable to hide the fact you still much desired him. Your plans of marrying him still present, never buried away. You entered the ballroom once more. You watched a few more dances with mama at your side. Then there was a sudden announcement. Maken everyone hasten outside. The sky full dark now. Starless and cloudless. A blank canvas ready to be painted in with delights.
You neared the already standing crowd. Mama spotted Francesca going over to her. Not far from her you noticed Enola. Getting on the tips of your toes, you couldn’t help but see if Tewkesbury was near her. A part of you hoping he wasn’t. Your brothers were coming outside too, laughing loud. Colin holding a little sack in his hands. Probably the coins he had won with gambling.
They were getting behind some people to wait for what was to come. Setting your heels back down, you felt a presence near your right. Slowly letting your gaze go to your right to see who it was. Your heart leaped, expression softening when he stood beside you. Tewkesbury. Staring right back at you. Half a smile on his lips.
A whistle went off followed by a loud blow. It startled you and Tewkesbury as the night sky busted with colours. First a bright red. Then a bright blue. Tewkesbury and you looked up to the sky as the fireworks exploded. Bright yellow, green and red filled the night sky. Colours popping in the air. People were pointing and reacting startled with laughter.
You were amazed by the colours, watching them with excitement. A gentle nudge against your knuckles made you dim your enthusiasm. Trying to figure out what it was doing to you. Another nudge against the back of your hand. Pressing gently against your hand. A tingle went up your spine as you continued to watch the fireworks.
Slowly turning your palm and stretching your fingers out. Fingers glided over yours as they caught your hand. Another firework popped as the green colours reflected on your faces. Two hands intertwined for no one to see. Standing together in a heaven of bright colours.
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alexlwrites · 1 month
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As REQUESTED! Here's part 3 of "Yoongi who never had a crush... Until you" from my notes app!
This is a little longer than the others due to my commute to work taking a little longer today, so yall can thank the Sao Paulo train system for that!
As I mentioned previously, I am now open to commissions through my ko-fi! So you can buy me a coffee and request a short scenario, whether it be based on this fic, one of my others, or something entirely new! The link to my ko-fi is in my bio!
Anywho! Enjoy!
----
Yoongi had an on going theory - now proven over many many times - that any and all problems he encountered could somehow be traced back to Jimin.
Beer missing from the fridge? Jiminie. His files mysteriously disappearing from his computer, replaced by a bootleg version of The Sims 3? Jimin. The Plague? Park Jimin, that fucking rat.
And once more, in a house party he had no interested being at, poor Yoongi found himself victim of the consequences of his ill-fated association with that god-forsaken gremlin, now smiling smugly from across the circle where his friends and a few acquaintances sat.
"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Jimin said, innocently like he wasn't the cause of Yoongi's on going demise "You spin the bottle and whoever it points to, you have to kiss!"
Yoongi snorted from his place in a chair outside the circle. At 30 years old, he was clearly above such childish games and would never submit himself to such humiliating and depraved behavior...
"I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" he heard and he swore time stopped as you, of all people, sat within the circle next to a Jungkook, smoothing down your tennis skirt as you smiled "What are we playing?"
"Spin the bottle!" Jimin smiled grew, a mischievous gleam appearing as he peared at his frozen friend.
Your eyes looked around the circle, falling on Yoongi's a couple feet behind and he swore even the singular hair in his left toe stood up in alert "Yoongi's not playing?" You asked.
Jimin shrugged in despondency "Well, no-"
"Of course I am!" Yoongi threw himself onto the ground, sending a poor unsuspecting Taehyung flying out of the way with a whelp "I love this game!"
Yoongi did not in fact love this game. He loathed it.
They had played several rounds and his bottle was nowhere close to pointing at you. Instead, he kissed Namjoon twice and slapped Taehyung once for putting his slimy tongue out as their faces got closer.
Was he cursed, he wondered, the face of dispirited desperation, watching as Hoseok and Jin made out in a way that could only be described as disproportionately violent. What could he have done in his past lives that would lead to this punishment, the sheer torture of sitting across from you and not getting to kiss you? Had he not earned your affections? Did he not claim your love through the cosmical power of dibs?
Whatever. WhaTEVER! So it would be, he would die alone. A monk amongst 6 manwhores, a fortitude of loneliness, cursed to roam the earth in his loveless state...
Oh, it was his turn. He spinned the bottle thoughtlessly, mind still wondering about the implications of his slowly returning virginity due to solitude.
Oh.
Oh.
You looked up at him as the bottle pointed straight at your form all the way across the circle and Yoongi swore someone had to call 911 at the way his heart stopped. His condition - simptitis - was worsening by the second.
Someone wheel him into the emergency room - you were crawling across the circle, prowling really, your blouse dipping in a way that left nothing to the imagination, and trust him, he had imagined!
You stopped, kneeling in front of him "Hi, Mr. Min."
Here are some symptoms to look for if you believe you could suffer from simptitis:
-accelerated heart beat
-exaggerated hand sweating
-inability to form coherent thoughts, not to be confused with just being stupid, which Yoongi was starting to think it was his case
-ill timed boners
And, the most common one:
-praise kink
Yoongi seemed to be displaying all of the above at the same time and when you softly asked "Are you okay with this?" All he could do was brace himself and nod.
If Hoseok and Jin's kiss was violent, this one was peaceful, slow, soft and way too passionate for a spin the bottle session. You tasted like sicilian lemon and gin and Yoongi was only but an alcoholic man at your feet, cradling your face to keep you close, refusing to let go of the addictive feeling of your lips on his.
Someone coughed awkwardly and you stepped back, face flushed and chest heaving. You looked deliciously disheveled and Yoongi thought of other circumstances where he could make you look like that again.
Okay, so maybe Jimin wasn't that bad.  Maybe he wasn't the physical manifestation of Yoongi's karma. Maybe that phat assed hobbit was up to something with his seventh grade games...
Oh, it was your turn. Maybe Yoongi would get to kiss you again!
Nope. It landed on Jimin, who wasted absolutely no time in bringing your face down to his.
The betrayal? The bro-trayal?
Back stabbing little tinker bell bitch.
Bugger.
Bugger it all to hell.
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rafesgoldrings · 2 months
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Okay but imagine Rafe with Kook!Reader who hates the pogues just as much as him. You make up stories about how they touched you on the way home or how they tried to steal from you and cry to him about it, begging him to do something because you’re ‘so scared’. Obviously he’d go after them, returning to you later covered in blood with roughed up knuckles. Something about knowing who’s blood it was and the reason behind it just turns you on so much that you’re ripping his clothes off and throwing him on the bed before he can even get a word out.
You see the guy the next day, eyes blackened and body bruised walking with a small limp, and you just can’t help the small smirk that forms. Sure it’s not their fault for being poor….but they should just stay out of sight if they didn’t want this happening. They can’t be trusted on the nicer side of the island in your eyes and they should pay the price for even stepping foot on it, Rafe makes sure they do and he gets rewarded for it every time. You’re both feared, anybody that’s not rich or privileged like you avoiding your path at all costs. Nobody even makes eye contact with you too scared they’ll be the next victim.
Sometimes you’ll be with Rafe when you see them all bruised and bloody from the previous day/night and have to pull him into a nearby bathroom or a discreet area in public where nobody would see you. You get on your knees and pull his shorts and boxers down before stroking his cock slowly while looking up at him, getting him nice and hard before you slide it in your mouth. His hands tangle themselves in your hair and force your head all the way down and he’s unable to contain the moan that slips out, his cock twitching in your throat from you gagging on it and your eyes welling up with tears. The cocky smirk on his face soon replaced with an open mouthed expression as he gets closer, your hands playing with his balls sending him over the edge.
He holds your head in place muttering small praises like ‘that’s my good girl’ ‘god your mouth feels so fucking good sweetheart’ ‘you’re so pretty baby, just like that’ until he knows he’s shot every lost drop of his cum down your throat before letting you pull away. Strings of spit all over your chin and lips connecting to his cock, your hair a mess and makeup ruined, his face flushed, makes it look fresh out of a porno and he just has to take a picture. He loves saving them to a private album to jerk off to when you’re not around, you’re too pretty not to. You’d both clean up a little before going on about your day, ignoring the subtle looks of disgust from the people that happened to overhear what just happened. It’s not like they’d say anything anyway, you were the Kook princess. Rafe Cameron’s little pet, he’d kill anyone that tried.
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yestrday · 10 months
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— TIE ME UP. yan! rich kid! childe x gn! mercenary! reader
your latest hit is a boy named ajax. the job's easy— kidnap him, bully him a bit, then send him back without any will to live. easy enough, it seems, but not everything will go the way you expect it.
( reader is not a good person; murder, mentions of torture; kidnapping; obsessive behavior, tying up, slight mentions of n/sfw, masochistic childe )
note. ahhhh im in a writing a slump so i decided to write the other part of anon's request to practice. idk if it's good enough, but childe will always be my go to whenever i want some disgusting yandere boy
you might like: childe's spiked drink
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it's nothing you haven't seen. someone wants someone dead and they would pay millions just to see that come true. you whistle when you open the case of green bills for the nth time this day and the sight makes you smile.
what a haul you've gotten. despite the dread that's been growing inside you since you took this job, the million worth of cash inside this single suitcase is enough for you to retire. maybe you'll finally take a break from all this gory business, find a nice plot of land where the police can't find you, and make a farm for yourself. that sounds nice.
determined to finally finish this once and for all, you slam the suitcase shut and chuck it into the back of your car, along with the squirming ginger screaming at you through his gags.
"it'll be all over soon, love," you croon, sporting a wicked smile. "jus' get some sleep in here, mmkay?"
with one last muffled scream of his, you slam the trunk on the poor man's shaking expression and rev the engine to life.
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"'ello there, babe," is the first thing the boy hears when he blinks his eyes awake. "good ting ya slept, hm? the road here was full of em potholes. not exactly pleasant for a passenger in the truck, right?"
it's a classic stereotype— that heavy country accent tinged with seduction and danger— even you're painfully aware of how cheesy your voice is. but it's what you were raised with, plus most of your victims dig the accent anyway, so might as well make use of it. the boy grimaces when the single fluorescent bulb swaying on the ceiling hits his sight, and he lets out a little grunt. 
"ajax childe. third son of the ceo of childe's toy corporation and now…" you plop yourself onto the wooden seat in front of him, nonchalantly waving the knife in front of his wide-eyed stare. "the target of some rich sod's hatred." you give him a lookover, from his ruffled ginger hair, his lean bod, down to his strong calves. clearly, he's been working out. you sigh in mock pity. "what the hell did ya do anyway? make off with someone's girl?" he's pretty enough to entertain the thought, and judging how flirtatious he acts in front of the paparazzi, that very well might be the case.
he protests against the gag once again, and you shake your head. "sorry, babe. not really in the mood to listen to sum brat scream." you tap your cheek as you contemplate on what to do with him. "hmm... they didn't actually want ya dead, if i'll be honest with ya. just bully ya a little till ya want yerself dead, y'feel? it's good to 'ave less blood on my hands, but hm, when i get commissions like these..." you cock your head, pondering over the countless victims you had over the last decade.
"they don't usually come out alive, yanno?"
another muffled scream through the gag, and you watch in boredom as he tries to wiggle his way out of his binds. clearly, however, it's futile when all he accomplishes is burn himself with the rope. well, what else was he expecting? you were a hired mercenary, he a mere ceo's son living a cushy life. there really was no challenge here.
but looking at him... you feel somewhat sympathetic. you have no respect for those high-class scum who like to hide behind fake smiles and faker compliments. but the kid in front of you was just some irresponsible young adult who just happened to be born into the elite, and well, if he wasn't the son of such a big corporation, he'd probably have gotten away with whatever he did. such was the consequence of having too many eyes on you. maybe it'd make you less worse of a human being if you let this kid air his grievances out.
you sigh, getting up from your spot. "alright, alright, i'll ungag you. just shut up already, jeez." he seems to jostle around less when you say that, and you swiftly untie the cloth to let him talk.
you already know what to expect— teary pleas, desperate bribes, maybe even some angry threats. all these are common in victims and more often than not are you forced to listen to all that shit before you decide to gag them again or just shoot them in the head. so you brace yourself for whatever agonizing scream they might have in store for you.
"ah..."
you grimace. here it comes.
"you're prettier than anything i've imagined..." he tilts his pretty face up, gazing at you with lovestruck eyes under the shine of the harsh light. your shock is mirrored in those loony eyes as his smile widens till it almost splits his face into two,
"...[your name]."
"what the fuck?!" instinctively, you recoil away from him, taking steps back while he continues to pin that heart-eyed stare on you. "what in the–?! how the fuck do you know me?!"
"oh, [your name], is there anything i don't know about you?" this... this freak sighs almost dreamily, and it makes you grimace by how slimy it is. "your name, your occupation (obviously), your favorite drinks, your... heh, three sizes!" he lets out a low giggle. "finally...! to finally see you right in front of my very eyes!"
you blanch. "three...?!" this cannot do. you are being outdone and outsmarted by some rich playboy. clearing your throat, you regain your composure and narrow your eyes at him in a glare (why... why is he shivering?!). "bluffs won't save you from your fate, childe."
you live a life in the shadows. leaving traces of yourself for people to find could spell to be your doom, and yet here was this kid claiming that he knew everything there is to you. it was a laughable attempt at a bluff, and he only caught you offguard by that disgusting grin of his. you're confident enough in your own abilities that you know that no one would be ever able to track you—
"[your name] [last name]. single father, three siblings, but they're all dead. you became a mercenary at age 16 and you go to your headquarters every weekend. you like the cafe at sixth avenue and you order the fourth thing on the menu almost every time." his grin widens when he sees the alarmed expression on your face. "should i tell you more?"
impossible. gritting your teeth, you pull him by his collar, almost tipping his chair over until you catch it with your knee. it... spreads his legs and pushes against his bulge, and you want to scrub yourself clean when you see his red blush and lip-bite. "how the fuck d'you know all that?" you snarl. you shake him. "tell me!"
"because i love you," he says, almost breathless. he looks at you with eyes so full of devotion and obsession that you might believe him. "there's not a single piece of you that i don't love."
you pull your lip back. "you're fuckin' disgusting."
"ah, but!" he wiggles in his chair, his clothes straining against the binds. "you're the one who tied me up like this! all vulnerable and ready for you to torture, right?"
you can't believe this man. "that's how kidnappings go, you idiot!" unable to hold on to this weirdo any longer, you let go of him and he and the chair he's tied to collapse to the floor. it's a nasty fall, but you're too busy rubbing your hands together in some attempt to rid yourself of the germs he may have transferred over to you.
the gasp of delight when he hits the floor grates like metal against your ear, and he squirms when you look down at him with such hate and disgust in those pretty eyes of yours. "is it starting? are you gonna torture me now?" your eyes flit to the array of tools you laid out on the counter, but now you feel reluctant to dirty this man's blood with the tools you painstakingly polished to shine. "ah~ ♡ i wonder what you're gonna do to me! are you gonna cut me up and leave me to bleed? tie me up till it hurts to breathe? ah, [your name] ♡" he calls your name with ecstasy. "i'm so excited to see what you'll do!"
with your back turned towards him and facing the tools, you don't grace him with a reply. instead, you bite your lip, panicked and pale expression reflected in the cold reflection of a knife.
'why me?!' your thoughts scream. 'i've never met this man in my life before!'
'how am i supposed to break someone who's gone too fucking far?!'
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he continues to smile at your back, watching as you contemplate which torture device you'll bless him with for that night.
'so, so cute!' you're shorter than him, but somehow the thought of you dominating him and spilling his blood makes his jeans tighter. 'they're gonna make me go through sooo much pain, i can feel it! they'll have the power to kill me. they might kill me!'
just like that man you shot in that alleyway, eyes staring blankly at the mess of guts and brain splattered against the wall. there was no remorse in your eyes as you wipe the blood off your cheek with the back of your hand. no remorse as you stuff that body into a bag and make a mess all over yourself.
he remembers it clearly. your skintight black bodysuit, how the blood seemed to match your soulless eyes, the peek of tongue as you licked the blood from your thumb— he remembers it all too well.
how could he not, when he had his back pressed to the wall, out of your sight, hand clamped to suppress his noises. not a terrified scream, mind you. but his heavy breaths as he continued to observe you from a distance.
better than an angel. more divine than an angel. you were the reaper itself, stained in blood and black.
and his obsession with that reaper grew, as you revved off with your motorcycle with the corpse in tow, and he lay in the alley shadows with a hand in his jeans and blood at his feet.
if you had looked closely beneath all the money, maybe you'd see one damning clue that would tell you that this commission was a bad idea. a clue stitched at the bottom of the suit, fancy lettering showcasing initials in cursive:
a.c.
ajax childe's grin grows wider when he sees you finally settle on a tool. even when bound up and knocked to the floor, those hungry eyes and crazed grin seem to make him more of a predator than the you holding a knife.
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darklinaforever · 2 months
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So ! I need to say that !
Hades & Persephone's relationship is canonically a loving and quite healthy relationship in the context of Greek mythology which represents a form of balance for the world through the cycle of the seasons. Persephone is not a victim of Hades either... Anyone who has studied Greek mythology can actually explain it to you.
That's a bad vision of the original myth due to a too modern interpretation. It's not the modern era that romanticizes this basic relationship. This was already the case in Greek times...
It even seems to me that Hades and Persephone were often represented on the vases given to newlyweds (pretty crazy, since Hera was literally the goddess of marriage) because they were always described as having a loving, supportive and harmonious marriage.
And if you're looking for a real culprit in the union of Hades & Persephone, there's literally Zeus, who authorized the marriage between the two after Hades came to ask him. Hades didn't kidnap Persephone as soon as he saw her. He first asked to his father, Zeus, for her hand in marriage, as in the Greek traditions of the time.
In some versions of the myth, it even seems to me that Aphrodite is the one who provoked Hades' love for Persephone by sending Eros to plant an arrow in her after being upset by a refusal. But for now, I'm not sure of Aphrodite's real involvement.
But regardless, in the original myth, the one blamed is actually very clearly Zeus. He is the one, once again, having authorized the kidnapping of Persephone, which in Greek traditions translates into an engagement, and who has caused the whole messy situation with poor Demeter.
As for the grenade episode, it doesn't seem to me that we can know the original version. So the whole "Hades forced Persephone to eat the pomegranate" thing is also bullshit.
There doesn't even seem to me to be any indication of Persephone having been mistreated in any way by Hades in the myth. It's again bullshit.
I'm making this post because I've had yet another person explain to me that Persephone is a victim of Hades and that our modern age romanticizes the relationship between the two.
"Yes. Like Persephone gets bastardised. Persephone was Hades's assault victim. People try to "modernize" her by making her want Hades (all while making Demeter to be in the wrong). Mina was Dracula's assault victim. People try to "modernize" her by making her cheat on Jonathan for Dracula."
Except no. Persephone is not a victim of Hades in the context of Greek myth. That's a stinking modern vision. Kind of ironic, when you argue that it's the modern view that stands in for the real version of Persephone being a victim of Hades when... well no. It's the modern era that makes Persephone a victim of abuse at the hands of Hades, (this all reminds me of how people make Rhaenyra a victim of grooming in her relationship with Daemon) while that is not the case in the context of the original myth. As I explained above, this interpretation is modern bullshit. And it is very important to transcribe the myths in their ancient context to understand their various messages, otherwise you will miss the point.
But I won't elaborate further because @cthonisprincess has already explained it very well. I invite you to go and see these reblogs below which detail the whole affair of Hades and Persephone in much more detail :
I even recommend this video :
youtube
My god, I can't believe that in 2024, people are still at the stage of demonizing Hades, even though he is one of the rare decents gods, and still claiming that Persephone is an assault victim of Hades... This is a shameful distortion of the original myth and a real bastardization of the goddess Persephone.
Also... we're literally talking about a myth. The goal of a myth is to be reinvented according to the times. So what does it matter that there are adaptations of the myth that differ from the said myth, or rather from the biased vision that some have of making Persephone a poor victim of the evil Hades ?!
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@aleksanderscult
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pizzapottah · 4 months
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young love
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summary: the youngest malfoy meets the famous harry potter, not knowing that he'll be a big, big part of her life one day.
pairing: harry j. potter x malfoy!reader (no use of y/n)
word count: 4.2k
warnings: some depiction of health problems, mention of premature birth, mention of being underweight, overbearing parents (?) let me know if i missed anything!
author's note: hii! this is the first ever fanfic i post on this site, so, please be kind. english is not my first language (tell me if i missed any mistakes!) so constructive criticism is accepted and greatly appreciated! i thought of this as the first part of a series that i have in mind, so, enjoy <3
ps: yes, i changed draco's birthday for the plot. no regrets.
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when you met harry potter for the first time, it obviously was on platform 9¾.
you had always been quite a weak child. born on the 1st of august 1980 after a gruesome labor and almost a month before the due date, always the smallest amongst your friends and family, often used to miss occasions and such because of your poor health. constantly coddled by your parents - more likely, your mother - who for your whole childhood dreaded the day they would have had to send you to hogwarts. 
when the day came, they both had already made peace with it. as a witch and as a malfoy, you had to go to hogwarts - or else, what might other people think? said lucius, when narcissa tried convincing him of hiring a tutor at the manor to teach at home for at least the first years. 
against all the odds, you were happy about going to hogwarts. it would have meant not having the prying gazes of your parents on you all the time, being free from all the house-elves constantly watching to ensure you didn’t faint or hurt yourself while trying to do things other children did without a struggle - and, last but not least, hopefully not being a victim of your brothers protectiveness anymore. 
draco malfoy - your older brother, born not even a year before you on the 5th of september - was a precocious child, but not the kind you were. while you were born early and always ended up being the last, he seemed to be ages ahead of you and all of his peers. he had a malice that you hadn’t quite matured yet - obviously inherited by your dear father - and was able to have a pretty mean way with words. sometimes, you feared that one day, all the sly remarks and insults that he reserved for the people that he despised would be directed to you. more often than not, he was straight up cruel rather than mean. 
but still, he was your brother, and you loved him. hogwarts probably would become the place where he could finally forget about his poor, sick sister that always slowed him down. 
so, when not even ten minutes after your parents left your kitten disappeared, you wanted to bury yourself from embarrassment. nibbles had never been the easiest cat, hating the carrier almost as much as she hated everyone but you, and it was certainly not the first time she managed to escape her cage. 
you wanted to sit down and cry. you hadn't even arrived at hogwarts yet and everything was already going downhill. you were running up and down the platform, searching for your cat, probably looking crazy while you screamed her name. draco was surely already on the train, and you didn’t want to bother him as he was probably with all his friends. 
as you ran, you slammed against a boy whom you didn’t even see - he just came out from nowhere, you swore, but still… 
‘i am so, so sorry…’ the boy was on the ground, just like you, but had a slower reaction and you managed to get up first. seeing a pair of glasses - now broken glasses - on the floor, you immediately gave them back to him, babbling a string of apologies while helping him to get back up. you kept a hold on his hand while rambling, ‘i am really sorry for your glasses, i didn’t mean to break them, i shouldn’t have been running around-’ the screech of the hogwarts express made you yelp, making you enter an even worse panic - where the hell are you, nibbles? - “i am so sorry, but have you seen my cat? her name is nibbles, she’s about this big, with grey and white fur - she’s a birman, her snout is all brown - she probably hisses at anyone who tries to approach - please, please, tell me that you’ve seen her!’
the boy was all skin and bones, wearing clothes that were clearly too big for him, with untamed locks of black hair on his head - he probably hadn’t brushed them since forever - and two big green eyes that just stared back at you. he looked at you speechless, like he never fell on the ground in his whole life and he was happy that you knocked him out. you still held his hand, waiting for an answer. ‘...so?’
‘excuse me, dear,’ a kind voice echoed. ‘is this the cat you’re searching for?’
removing your attention from the boy, you looked at the woman who spoke - a red-haired, chubby and oh-so-kindly looking woman - who was pointing to a red-haired man. he held nibbles at arm’s length, with his face covered in scratches, while behind him three boys that were clearly their sons were laughing, holding back their tears when the birman tried to scratch him again and then hissed. 
‘nibbles!’ you screeched, immediately running up to the man to grab your cat, apologizing profusely, not even knowing what to say. ‘i am so, so, so sor-’
the woman and her husband waved you off with a gentle smile. ‘don’t worry, dear, you better go now, or you won’t find a place to sit! first year, am i right? still not enough friends to keep a cabin occupied.’ 
you just nodded, thanking them again, and ran to the hogwarts express. thankfully, all your belongings had already been placed there by the house-elves that accompanied you and your family to the platform, and you could count on daphne and theodore to save you a seat. when you finally managed to sit down, you were out of breath and probably your hair looked like a mess, but at least nibbles didn’t become a stray. when they looked at you, your friends bursted out laughing, only stopping when nibbles launched at theo and tried to bite off his nose. 
the rest of the day was pretty normal - well, as normal as the first day at a school like hoghwarts can be - but when you met that skinny boy - the one with green eyes and too-big clothes - you didn’t realize that you missed a big (vital, almost) detail about him. 
the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. 
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harry potter was sure he was dreaming. 
while he watched you run away with your cat in your arms to get on the train, his mouth fell open. he was certain he had never seen a girl as pretty as you, and he was also sure that yours was probably the first sincere apology he had ever heard since… well, since he could remember. it had nothing to do with dudley’s mockery sorrys, and it surely wasn’t a forced apology like the ones he had heard when he was at school. she was really sorry. probably he should’ve been mad that you broke his glasses, but at least, he had proof that you actually existed and he wasn't hallucinating. 
‘are you alright, dear? i know that all of this probably looks unbelievable for you.’ mrs weasley placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a kind of worry that he imagined only a mother could show. 
harry looked at his hand - the one you held. ‘i think it’s the first time in my whole life that a girl has held my hand and has talked to me willingly.’ near them, the twins and ron bursted out laughing again.
and that same evening, when the sorting of the houses begins and harry sees you go up to the seat when another malfoy is called and ron is sprouting poison in his ear about your family and your whole lineage, he silently hopes that you get put in gryffindor - where he’s just been sorted. 
obviously, as destiny has its strange ways, it doesn’t happen. and after a minute or two of uncertainty, the talking hat places you where draco has just been sorted to. and between the claps and the cheering of the students, you go and sit next to your brother - on the slytherin table.
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the second time you met harry potter - and the time you actually consider as the first time meeting him, despite him always arguing that in fact, it was not  - it was already january and five months had passed since your first encounter. you stood by the window of the library, watching your friends play in the snow, without you. 
when you and draco came back home for christmas, you first caught a cold, followed almost immediately by a high fever. the mediwizard said it probably was because of the weather, and your weak build just reacted badly to it. he recommended you to not get too exposed to the cold for the foreseeable future, and to always stay covered up. it was clear that your parents had taken that seriously.
so, now, no matter how much you beg professor snape, he won’t let you go out. your parents have been strict about this matter, miss malfoy, he said. and i can’t let an all-O student get sick, now, can i? who will answer my questions in class?
hermione granger, you had wanted to say, but didn’t. snape’s distaste for her, or any other gryffindor for that matter, was clear and plain. you were sick of always being kept behind a glass like some fragile object - people get sick, so what? during your time at hogwarts, your health got better. for the first time ever in your life, you felt like you were really healthy, as you finally gained some pounds and were no longer underweight. also, your skin took on a lively color, leaving behind your usually pale and sick incarnate. you were starting to suspect that malfoy manor was the problem. maybe it was cursed. 
though, draco never had any health problem. he could go out and play - but instead, as any other saturday, he probably was in his room, sleeping, or in the slytherin common room, talking with his friends about all the presents their parents got him for christmas.
and as you were commiserating yourself by the window, you didn’t notice a certain green-eyed boy looking at you. 
harry thought that he was wasting a saturday by spending it at the library, trying to understand snape’s assignments, but that was until he saw you. when he first noticed, he tried to not give it much thought. he just hoped that your brother wasn’t there with you. 
but as time went on, draco was nowhere to be seen. and you just stood there, propped up by the window, looking like the saddest person he’d ever seen. harry was conflicted - he knew you weren’t like your brother, or even like most of the slytherins. you always helped neville during potions, trying to alleviate snape’s hate against him, even when the professor said to him to stop slowing you down. you often offered to hermione to confront your assignments before turning them in, creating a strange friendship based on the purpose of getting the highest score possible together. you never took part in your brother’s bullying, and hermione described you as the sweetest person she ever met. ‘she always wants to apologize,’ she said once. ‘for her brother and his friends, i mean, but i don’t let her. it’s not her fault that her brother is such an imbecile.’ 
‘oh, yes,’ replied ron, skeptical. ‘kindness, a typical malfoy trait, am i right? hermione, she’s brainwashing you.’
they argued back and forth, until harry intervened. ‘i met her, once,’ he mumbled. ‘she’s nice.’
‘oh, you mean when she knocked you out on platform 9¾?’ snorted the weasley. ‘don’t be so stupid, harry, she was just searching for her ugly cat. she probably didn’t even care that you fell. besides, the scratches it gave to my dad’s face tormented him for days. he said that some of them even left a scar.’
harry frowned. ‘she apologized a hundred times - and you were laughing while her cat scratched your dad’s face!’
‘yeah, because i didn’t know it was malfoy’s cat and it would have left scars!’
‘right now, you’re being just like malfoy,’ seethed hermione, getting up from her seat. ‘judgy and full of prejudice. did you know what she said about you, and your family? she said that your parents were really nice to her and that she hopes to meet them again to thank them properly. she says that the twins’ pranks are hilarious, and that she wants to be prefect like percy one day. and she proposed to me many times to let you study with us, so that your grades could get better with our help. and do you know why i said no, ron?’ she glared at him, making him shiver. ‘because i knew you hated her, even if she never did anything to you.’ after that, she took her leave, leaving behind a red-faced ron and a really embarassed harry. 
remembering the conversations they had, harry looked at you, and thought that in the small time he had known her, hermione was almost always right - even if sometimes he didn’t want to admit it. and gathering all the courage that he had, he got up from his seat and approached you. 
‘hi,’ he said. you turned around to look at him, and gave him a smile. ‘oh, harry,’ you said. in the last few months, he visibly gained a few pounds too - that was a nice thing, you thought, because you knew from hermione that his aunt and uncle barely fed him, and you remembered how skinny he was at the platform. it seemed like hogwarts was treating the both of you well. ‘hi.’ you darted your eyes from him to the table where he was sitting, seeing the homework sprawled out on the surface. ‘were you doing snape’s assignments?’
harry scratched his neck nervously. ‘well, yes, but it’s not like i was really succeeding.’ 
you laughed lightly - a sound that made his cheeks red. ‘yeah, snape’s homework is not made for actually succeeding, really. you just have to pass.’
harry looked out of the window, frowning at the sight of your friends playing in the snow. ‘why don’t you go with them? it’s surely more fun than staying here alone. i’m here because i have to, i mean, but hermione told me you and her finished the assignment yesterday.’
you grimaced. ‘i was sick during the holidays, thus my parents don’t want me going out, now, and they even told snape, who makes sure that i actually stay in the castle. so, i’m stuck here. i like the library, so it doesn’t really matter.’ it actually does matter, you wanted to say, but you were sure that harry couldn’t care less about your problems. instead, he made a face. ‘what? can he actually do that?’ he wouldn't know, he doesn’t have parents that care about him - in the rare times where he fell ill, the dursleys barely even gave him any medicine, and always sent him to school, despite the weather.
‘well, i mean, yeah. he’s friends with my dad, and i know he can be really pressuring sometimes.’ you tried to smile at him. ‘do you need help with potions? i’m kinda sick of watching my friends having fun and doing nothing.’
harry didn’t want to bother you - or worse, give another reason to draco to make fun of him. ‘don’t worry, i’ll mana-’ seeing your pout made him stop and relent. after a brief pause, he said: ‘of course you can help me, if you want,’
that was how it started. in the weekends - mostly it was on saturdays - when the library was empty, you would help him with his homework (mainly potions, and you were quite proud of the fact that harry started to get higher scores, even if snape continuously suggested that he was cheating on his tests) and he would keep your mind off of your friends. you didn’t want to hold them back from having fun, so it was okay. 
until one day, harry came to the library late. it was already february, and probably the snow would have melted soon. it wasn’t really snowing anymore, and all the students spent their free time out in the gardens, trying to enjoy the last bits of winter. he was out of breath and had the biggest smile on his face. he said your name, ‘do you wanna go and build a snowman?’
you smiled sadly at him. ‘harry, you know i can’t. but if you want to, you can go. i won’t be mad at you for going without me.’
he shook his head vehemently. ‘no, no,’ he said. ‘i asked, do you wanna go and build a snowman?’
‘well, i mean, i would like to, but-’
‘no “buts”,’ he interrupted you, ‘go and change - wear your coat, put on a hat and other things like that to stay warm. today professor mcgonagall is keeping an eye on the students, so, we just have to bypass snape. let’s see each other in 30 on the second-floor girls’ bathroom.’
you raised an eyebrow at him. ‘why would you want to see me in a girls’ bathroom?’
he blushed. ‘do you trust me, or not?’
so you went and changed into something warmer, putting your ear warmer, a scarf and a pair of gloves in your bag. as you exited the girls’ dormitory and entered the slytherin's common room, you found yourself in front of professor snape, who eyed you suspiciously. 
‘miss malfoy,’ he said. ‘great afternoon, is it? i’ve seen all your friends out in the snow.’
‘oh, yes, professor,’ you squeaked. ‘i’m just going to the library, though. wouldn't want to catch a cold and make my parents worry about my health.’ 
he raised an eyebrow, not really convinced, but let you go easily. ‘don’t forget that professor mcgonagall also knows that you can’t go out in the garden, miss malfoy,’ he said at last. 
you barely even heard him, sprinting to the second floor and making sure you weren’t being followed, immediately entering the bathroom. thankfully, moaning myrtle was nowhere to be seen, but you found harry already there, with a bag of his own and looking pretty nervous. ‘you promise not to tell anyone about this?’
‘now, harry, why would i?’
he opened his bag and took out what was inside. your mouth fell open. ‘is that-?’
‘an invisibility cloak? yes, it is.’
you only ever saw one once, in your grandfathers house, behind a glass in one of his cabinets. he never let you or draco touch it, insisting that it was a "collection object" and it wasn’t made for "children who want to play". you knew they were very expensive and rare, and seeing that harry’s one looked really beautiful, you asked yourself where the hell he got it from. 
‘you ready to finally get a bit cold, malfoy?’
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professor mcgonagall was watching the students by the window, enjoying some tea and reading a book, when severus snape slammed the door of her office open, stomping inside. ‘minerva,’ he greeted, all but happy. ‘can you tell me how miss malfoy managed to sneak under our noses and get outside?’
unbothered, she looked out of the window and saw that yes, actually, you were out in the snow, covered well, making a snowman with hermione granger, harry potter, daphne greengrass and theodore nott. ‘i don’t see the problem, severus. she’s enjoying herself and is happy with her friends. it’s the first time i see her smile this wide.’
snape raised an eyebrow. ‘yes, and i suppose, it’s also the first time you see her in the snow. out. in the gardens. where her parents specifically asked to not let her go.’
then minerva suddenly remembered - merlin, she can’t go out in the cold. the five-page letter your parents sent dumbledore where they said that their daughter couldn’t be allowed out there for ‘poor health reasons’ immediately came to her mind, and she paled. 
she got up, leaving her book and tea behind, sprinting down the stairs to get to the gardens, snape close behind her. ‘miss malfoy!’ she yelled once she got there, without even having her coat on. ‘miss malfoy, come here at once!’
she saw your friends pale, and your face fall. the snowman, by then, was almost completed. the professor felt guilty instantly. how many years has it been, since i’ve seen gryffindors and slytherins get along? 
you got up from the snow and sniffled, sad. ‘thanks, guys,’ you said. ‘that was really fun.’ 
with your head low, you went to your teachers, preparing yourself for the scolding you were surely about to get. at least, they waited until you were inside the castle to start. ‘i never thought you capable of this, miss malfoy,’ started snape. ‘putting yourself in danger, going against your parents’ wishes and the mediwizard precautions - do you want to get sick? don’t you think that if you can’t go out, it’s just for your own good-’
‘now, now, severus,’ a voice interrupted. dumbledore, who was going down the stairs and heard the commotion, looked kindly at you. ‘she just wanted to have some fun. it’s been two months from her illness, am i right? she’s taking her medicines and taking care of herself. don’t get mad at her if she wants to play with her friends; she’s a child, and that’s what children do!’
he approached him and looked at you, smiling widely. ‘why don’t you go back to your friends, miss malfoy? i’m sure they’ll be delighted to hear that from now on, you won’t need to sneak in the garden anymore to play with them - you have my permission to go out during free time.’
your eyes sparkled. ‘really, professor?’ he chuckled. ‘really, missy.’
‘albus-’ professor mcgonagall tried to intercede, ‘her parents, they are gonna be furious if they find out about this-’
‘well, they don’t have to know, now, do they?’ he sent a look at snape. ‘and even if they find out, don’t worry, i’ll take full responsibility.’ 
professor snape huffed indignantly, turning in his heel and stomping away. 'unbelievable,’ he grumbled. dumbledore looked at you expectantly. ‘now, what are you waiting for, child? you can go. that beautiful snowman needs to be finished, and it looks clear to me that your friends won't complete it without you.’
you stood up straighter. ‘i, i, thank you, professor!’ you stammered, then ran away, going back to your friends, who were all discussing with each other, asking if they should go and try to help you out or just let it be. when they saw you, they all cheered loudly, asking immediately how it went and how many points the teachers took from slytherin.
‘albus,’ murmured minerva, watching you from the window. ‘don’t you think that it’s a reckless decision? you know that severus is going to tell the malfoys. and, poor her, she’s a weak child, do you remember how lucius malfoy described her illness in that letter?’
dumbledore hummed, deep in thought. ‘that child is in perfect health, minerva.’
she raised an eyebrow. ‘are you suggesting that the malfoys are lying? and for what? to ruin their daughter’s first year? you know how much the malfoys care about their children - they’d never do that to her.’
he shook his head. ‘no, i think the malfoys worry is legitimate. they don’t understand the cause of the problem, though, i fear.’ he looked at the snowman, almost completed, and then at you, who was searching for rocks to make him buttons. ‘children are fragile creatures. you never know how what you say, or what you do, will affect them. i am afraid that the malfoys have always been too overprotective of her, not wanting her to get hurt or sick - but sometimes, the more you fear and try to avoid a thing, the more it happens. children need to play with their friends - need friends -, need to play in the sun, and even fall and get hurt, once in a while. that’s what makes children children, am i right? she’s getting more healthy day by day, and i don’t think i’ve ever seen her smile like that - though i know i’m not around that much, i’m sure you can agree with me. we both know that growing in malfoy manor certainly won’t make anyone a happier child than they already are. draco surely loves that ambient - somewhere where everyone is at his beck and call, where he is revered by the servants and can feel all the wealth of his family - but what happens when one does not see all that, but just sees a too-big gloomy house?’
he quietly chuckled, looking at you and harry. ‘and - would you look at that, minerva! look at harry’s smile.’
she looked and immediately melted, knowing the look on the boys face - the flushed cheeks, the wide pupils, the biggest smile she’d ever seen (that’s not true, she remembered, that's the same smile james potter had when he looked at lily evans) while he talked to you. ‘yes, albus,’ she mumbled, deep in thought. ‘merlin. harry really is the copy of his father, isn’t he?’
dumbledore laughed. ‘ah, first love,’ he said, amused. ‘i just know he’ll remember her for his whole life, even if she ends up not liking him.’
‘a potter and a malfoy,’ mumbled mcgonagall. ‘never thought i’d ever see it in my life. is there anything more surprising than young love?’
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the divider is from @saradika-graphics! <3
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freddysglove · 1 year
Text
slasher reactions to an s/o with nipple piercings
includes: billy lenz, herbert west, pinhead, amanda young, chucky + tiffany, candyman, and freddy krueger.
insipired by @sl4shcelebr1ty's post about this. i loved it but wanted to add my favorite slashers too :)
tw: mention of body mutilation. nsfw !!! 
billy lenz
- absolutely flabbergasted
- billy is from the 70s. and sheltered.
- PLEASE. MAKE IT COMPLETELY CLEAR. HE CANNOT YANK ON THE BARS.
- they will become the main focus of every lewd comment he sends your way
- "pretty piggy. do you want billy to hurt you too? pull on them?" while he's sitting on top of your shirtless body
- non-sexually, he just thinks it's another exciting thing that makes you unique and interesting.
herbert west
- he's seen much more drastic things in and on a human body so i can't imagine he'd be too shocked
- it would probably be a turn on for him, though, especially if he didn't expect it
- might tease you about it a little bit
- would probably make a little comment in the moment after he took your shirt off like, "oh, hmm. you could've warned me, y/n. i'll have to be careful not to chip my teeth"
pinhead
- ...
- i mean
- LMAO
- yeah i don't think they'd be too fazed
- would probably praise you a little for it since they know it was most likely very "painful" for you
- would ask you how the pain felt
- they'd definitely want to put more piercings in your body
- obviously they wouldn't want to stop there, though.
- "you like them there, why wouldn't you like them covering you, my dear? coating all of your flesh? please, wait here, allow me to gather the pins-"
amanda
- she would be both adoring and jealous
- with her line of work, she couldn't deal with the healing and the possibility of getting them snagged and ripped out by a victim when attacking them
- so she'd have to get her joy by playing with yours instead
- would probably love to tug on them just enough to where you were in pain
- "oh poor baby, did that hurt?"
- then she'd immediately do it again
chucky
- would literally go, "oh ho ho."
- he would be so excited.
- like amanda, he'd want to tug on them, but he wouldn't be nearly as gentle.
- please establish a safe word because he seriously might tear them through your nipples.
- not purposefully but just carelessly.
- naturally, your chest would be his new favorite thing
- even when you're fully dressed he'd be staring at them and smirking to himself because he knows something other people don't
tiffany
- i picture her as a soft praising dom
- she'd touch them so gently and kiss them while talking about how pretty you are
- would leave so many lipstick marks over your chest
- if you wanted more piercings she'd be so supportive
- but would want to do them herself
- yes she has no former training, and ???
- if you were adamant about getting them professionally done, she'd still come along to hold your hand
- don't be surprised if your piercers go missing after touching you though.
candyman
- would speak in poems about how beautiful they are
-youlookabsolutelyalluringmybeautifuliwanttobeonewithyou
- would show you how much he adored them by spending hours worshipping and kissing them
- there are no bounds to his love
- might wish he could get matching ones so that he could have something constantly inside his body that was a part of you as well
freddy krueger
- you'd wish you never told him
- would make so many dirty, violent jokes that you'd be nervous being too close to him
- when you finally let your guard down to be intimate with him he'd be all over your chest
- top focus
- "it's only a dream, doll. come on. let me play a little?"
- the only one who would purposefully and shamelessly rip them out of your body while fucking you
- sorry :(
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