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queers-gambit · 7 months

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Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

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ivan-fyodorovich-k · 1 year

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look I wish it were otherwise but it is very much looking like my lot in life is to at least in part be an embodied reminder of the unfortunate reality that sometimes people don’t get better

#pure and impure vessels and all that #this is what God wants for me #but look #I know that you all need to say things like #medicine #exercise #therapy #healthy eating #religion #willpower #these are things that you have to say so you feel like you have control over your life and they all work sometimes for some people #but there's no foolproof method #sometimes people just don't get better #you can tell yourself it's because they didn't believe hard enough #they didn't try hard enough #they weren't strong enough #whatever #maybe you're right and it's always a personal choice and a personal failure #but we are still left with the stark reality #not everyone recovers #I don't know #maybe at this point I do owe people an explanation of all the things I've tried #I think I've tried everything #'did you try hard enough though??'#'did you try long enough???'#I could be wrong but I think I can say safely that I tried long and hard enough to know that sometimes it improves but it never goes away #but you can choose I suppose to believe I am willfully lazy and evil #perhaps I am

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dragon-ascent · 1 month

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Pre-Liyue Rex Lapis sees that you're stressed out, so he tries to help.

Lately, the dragon deity has been worried about you. Every time he sees you, your lip is curled anxiously or your brows furrowed, a far cry from your usual squishy and silly self (you would protest against being called squishy or silly with a heavy blush on your face, but Rex Lapis doubts you'd currently react at all).

Through his keen observations of his people, he finds that humans feel better after partaking in physical activity to relieve the mind. So, whiskers twitching eagerly, Rex Lapis sets out to find you.

You're strolling through the woods, dejection heavy upon your shoulders. For all you do, it feels like you're not holding up your end of the divine contract with Rex Lapis - to work hard with your fellow human companions and ensure the village is the best it can be. Your broken tiller drags miserably against the ground, leaving sad little tracks in the dirt.

Rex Lapis would certainly be displeased with you.

A loud fwoosh sounds behind you, the trees' leaves rustling ominously as they seem to bend and cower to make way for the dragon-god himself. He lands with a graceful thump, glowing eyes fixed on your small form.

You scream - evidently he's here to exact his divine punishment; without a moment to spare, your tiller lays discarded as you dash through the woods, heart in your throat.

Rex Lapis' tail wags elatedly, pleased that you're already going for a run! He doesn't need to take time to explain why you need physical activity! He follows after you, eyes shining in delight.

Your eyes are shining too, but with terror as you hear the god in hot pursuit of you. Oh no, you fleeing is probably angering him even more, isn't it..? But it's too late to stop! As fast as your legs can handle, you run and run, weaving through the trees...

For show, the dragon also weaves his long body through the trees at a languid pace - which is admittedly still very fast. He's gaining on you, and your legs are screaming in pain...

"Please! I'm sorry for what I've done!" you cry out, barely able to understand yourself over the sound of your own panting and the wind in your ears. Your pursuer tilts his head in confusion, still chasing after you.

With a squeal, you're scooped up by his claw and he comes to a halt, purring happily. "That's quite enough, isn't it?" he asks, sniffing you calmly while you're here panting for air. "You have done well, little one." One congratulatory lick.

"Wh-what?" you gasp, devoid of the strength to even try and struggle.

Another purr. "Staying physically active and stimulated will relieve some of your tensions. I expect you here again to-morrow, same hour. After a week of running, perhaps we shall see results, hm?"

You stare at him, exasperated, at least reassured he is not here to eat you or punish you. "...What?"

And just like that, the earliest form of therapy in human history is recorded.

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #fluff #rex lapis #dragon

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temis-de-leon · 20 days

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MC with a selfish best friend

MC mourning the loss of a long toxic friendship with the help of the brothers.

Characters: demon brothers and fem!MC (written as platonic, but could be read as romantic)

Masterlist

CW: continued discussion about weight gain and weight loss, eating as a coping mechanism, obssesive and manipulative behaviour, emotional blackmail, a glimpse of animal neglect, a tiny nod at suicide, MC trying to hide her feelings, anxiety, TLC from the brothers

A/N: kind of self insert because I'm writing my own experience, so this isn't the most relatable MC. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Remember I'm not a native english speaker, so there might be some grammar mistakes.

Back then, not that long ago, MC was completely sure she wouldn’t go any further in life. She was stuck in college, in her family and her friend group. There was a dynamic she could work through and, although it could be better, she wasn’t one to complain.

It was a flooded basement with filthy water, but at least it lacked rats.

She just needed some time to start working on herself. Go to therapy, lose some weight maybe? Start cooking again and stop wasting money on fast food. She did use to enjoy spending time in the kitchen and experimenting, after all, but the only things she cooked during her last months in the human realm were mugcakes and pasta. Not necessarily nutritious, but easy to make.

Thank god she had her best friend.

Her companion in the basement, the one with the flashlight.

MC wished she let her hold her hand too.

“She’s overthinking again. Not good”

“Look who’s talking”

“Hey! It was just a joke!”

“Should we talk to her?”

“Maybe when she comes back, else we’ll give her a heart attack”

“Yeah, Lucifer would kill us”

“Oh, so now we’re doing this for Lucifer?”

“Don’t be selfish, Mammon”

“Who ya calling selfish?”

“Ugh”

MC listened carefully, softly smiling at Beel and Levi’s voices drowning Mammon’s in an almost silent screaming match.

She couldn’t see them from her position, her upper body completely sprawled over the armrest and her line of sight lost in the ashes of the chimney. The fire cracked, threatening to die in front of her, but it was difficult to get up when her body weighted so much. She was tired and hungry and nauseous and even the idea of sitting straight sent bile to her mouth.

Then someone walked into the common room, shushing harshly and getting the other brothers to cease their fighting. Whoever it was, probably Lucifer or Satan, must have thought she was asleep.

So MC closed her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of her arm and basking in the comfortable silence. She could hear them still; the shuffle of cards, a plastic wrapper, buttons and joysticks.

The newcomer got close to her, covering her body with a blanket and sitting at her feet before opening a book. There was enough space in the couch for at least two more people, but MC still curled up, trying to make more room for him. She stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her ankle in a gentle grip, a gesture that brought some warmth where her pants didn’t reach.

Would someone add another log for the fire? Everyone seemed too comfortable to move.

At least the blanket was thick. Pure hellish wool or something, because every animal in the Devildom was just a bigger scarier version of those in the human realm. It was also, however, softer than any type of textile she could’ve ever find back home, so the creature could spit fire for all she cared.

Suddenly, the brother caressing her ankle tightened his grip for a short moment, demanding her attention. When MC opened her eyes, she found Satan smiling at her with no one else in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after all.

“Dinner is ready”

He let her stretch, unconsciously comparing her to a cat when she arched her back and cracked every possible bone in her body. Satan wondered if that ever hurt, but MC seemed to enjoy it very much whenever she had the occasion to do so, like when they came home from classes after a long day or when they bought groceries for the whole week and Beel.

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

“Not for a while, no”

“Is that so? Something troubling you, MC? Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know”

She sounded sincere, but Satan didn’t buy it. Only a month had passed since MC came back to the Devildom, looking a bit more tired than when she left at the end of the first year of the program, and she’d acted ecstatic when she learnt she would be living with them again.

He was sure the problem relied in her human phone, something she didn’t have last year and Diavolo had kindly allowed her to keep.

All of his brothers, even the eldest, were greatly impressed when MC showed them how she unlocked the device with her fingerprints, as well as the human versions of Devilgram, Deviltube and Akuzon. That was a fun day, but time passed and soon the phone became an inconvenience. Someone at the other side of the line was taking their beloved human’s time, leaving her exhausted in the aftermath of their conversations and, if Satan vision’s was correct, teary eyed.

That would not continue. Not on his watch.

“We’ll look into it in another moment. Right now, let’s go with the others. Aren’t you hungry?��

“God, yes!”

They both chuckled and he forced his thoughts away. They could wait for the time being.

Beel didn’t judge her, but she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would whenever they sneaked in the kitchen at the late hours of the night.

Opening the fridge door with slow movements, trying not to make noise while taking plates or bowls and eating in silence between giggles and short whispers brought a sort of familiarity. And Beel never judged MC. Why would he? He ate even more than her. He’d keep going long after she was finished, full enough to want to puke everything, and MC would feel a wicked satisfaction knowing that no matter how much she ate, there was someone that would eat much more.

Those nights she’d go to bed feeling sick and greasy, too regretful and high on sugar to be tired. Then, by morning, she’d force herself to eat breakfast and go on with her day just to get whatever sense of normality she could reach.

Although, lately, things had been slightly different.

They still got together at night and filled their mouths to the brim, but Beel was adamant about MC going to the gym with him when the morning came, before everyone was out of bed. Of course she’d said no since the beginning, but he kept insisting, saying she didn’t have to exercise if she didn’t want to.

MC still said no.

Then Asmodeus put his input.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, hon’, but you aren’t getting your 8 hours of sleep and you’re adding calories during the night. That’s horrible for your skin!”

And had it been her mother saying that, MC would’ve lashed out, rejecting opinions she’d been hearing for years over and over and over again, but this was Asmo. The Avatar of Lust. The most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom. MC guessed she wasn’t being fair to her mother, who also loved her and hated seeing her so sick and tired all the time, when it was Asmo she couldn’t ignore.

“I get anxious when I go to bed” she finally confessed.

MC could feel Satan’s eyes on her, but he stayed silent.

“Spend the night with me” intervened Belphie with an honest smile, a muted worry in his eyes “I could make you so tired you wouldn’t want to get out of bed”

“No way!”

Everyone looked at Mammon and several sighs filled the room. The demon, although deeply blushing, kept talking with an overbearing smugness.

“If someone’s gonna sleep with her, it’s gonna be me! Don’t worry MC, the Great Mammon will chase the nightmares away!”

“I think sleeping with you would give her nightmares, actually”

Mammon turned to Levi, ready to swing at his brother, but MC talked before the fight started.

“It’s not nightmares, Mams, I just feel anxious. You know, like, I can’t stop thinking”

“About what?”

She looked at Satan, who was staring at her with a calculating glance, surely remembering what she told him days before when she fell asleep on the couch.

“I don’t know… Everything, I guess”

All of them stayed silent, ignoring what they were previously doing. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but MC wished someone said anything.

Of course, Mammon spoke first.

“Well, that’s a lot”

“No shit, you moron”

Levi finally got smacked and the rest of them went back to do their own thing, letting MC’s lack of sleep behind. A part of her wanted to keep the conversation going, but she felt too embarrassed when she tried to open her mouth again, especially having Satan looking at her like a hawk.

You don't want me to stare at you? I want to. What's the problem?

She achieved to ignore him in the end.

That night she stayed in her room, pacing, chewing her sweatshirt’s aglet while humming that Phineas and Ferb’s song and turning her headphone’s volume to the maximum with a different music threatening to deteriorate her hearing.

Anything to distract herself and not go to the kitchen.

Finally, hours after bidding the brothers goodnight, MC threw herself on the bed. Her feet were aching, its footprints surely engraved in the carpet, and she forgot to take her headphones off, making the position uncomfortable, but the important thing was that she didn’t have the need to eat anymore.

However, Beel still knocked her door at dawn.

MC stared at him when she opened, bleary-eyed and mouth as dry as cotton, the hem of her pyjama pants so high they looked like pantaloons. He, on the other hand, was completely awake and seemed ready to conquer the day.

“Before you say anything, I’m not going to the gym today”

There was a heavy silence for a couple of seconds.

“Then why did you wake me up? We have classes tomorrow”

Beel stared at her with a worried expression.

“We don’t. It’s Saturday”

“Ah”

She could’ve sleep longer? MC wished she was mad at him, but his puppy stare was hypnotizing.

“I want to go for a walk today. And I want you to come with me”

He lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his cheek while waiting for an answer. MC turned around and looked at the window, still unable to decipher what time it was by looking at the sky.

There were a few things MC missed from the human realm. The sun was one of them.

“We could go to the park, feed some birds and then have breakfast somewhere else. I swear I won’t eat the seeds this time"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes when he smiled back. Then she looked down at the rolled pants and her bare legs.

“Is it cold?”

“I don’t think so, but you can borrow my jacket”

MC sighed and rubbed her eyes, waiting until the white spots disappeared before walking towards her closet. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she knew that.

“Let me change and then we’re going. But you owe me one, Beel!”

His smile was too wide for him to answer.

Breakfast with Beel ended up lasting three whole hours, which was understandable, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing and almost everything, both of them clearly avoiding the subject of her sleeping habits.

MC really did want to talk about it, but then again, what did she want to talk about exactly? She had trouble falling asleep, yes, and she’d gone back to eating her feelings, but she couldn’t point out the reason. Her nights were filled with paranoia, making her revaluate every piece of interaction she’d had since she got back home from the Devildom months ago. Did she spoke correctly? Did people understand that she was just studying abroad and not begging for attention?

She hoped her best friend dropped those accusations. MC would never stoop so low. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

“Don’t you want anything else?”

MC looked at Beel and the stack of plates surrounding him at the table, mugs and cardboard boxes stained with chocolate, whipped cream and frosting. Her side of the booth was much cleaner, but when she lowered her gaze the only thing she could think of were mugcakes and pasta and the taste of bile in her mouth at the sight of her bloated stomach.

“No, I’m fine”

She knew he loved her. She knew she could talk to him and he would listen and maybe even hold her hand, but the small restaurant was already filled with demons and witches and whatnot and MC knew she’d only be able to sob the moment she’d open her mouth, so she stayed quiet.

Beel nodded, going back to his food with a strange calmness. Maybe he was close to being full?

But no, it wasn’t that.

MC gasped when she felt his foot weakly tapping hers before going under it to support its weight. A small comfort, like the prelude of a long awaited hug.

He didn’t know how much she appreciated it.

Winter had already reached the Devildom the day MC opened her closet and stared at her clothes. No matter what she chose, everything was at least a size bigger.

She guessed finally going to the gym with Beel did have some payoff.

“Is something wrong, MC?”

Asmo turned the lights of her bathroom off, walking where she was silently standing while staring at the discarded clothes around her.

“You don’t feel like dressing up today? We can stay home and do some self-care if you want”

MC turned around to look at him with gratitude. She knew how much he wanted to go shopping, especially with her. Finals ended just the day before and everyone had been so occupied they’d barely seen each other outside classes and meal times.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just that… everything feels wrong. I think I lost weight”

He chuckled at her revelation, hugging her waist and kissing her cheek between giggles.

“You’re taking care of yourself, silly! Whatever are you doing with Beel in the gym, I wonder…?”

She laughed and lightly hit his arm, showing no ill intent, and Asmo smiled in response, not bothering to hide his lewd expression.

“Don’t be nasty!”

“Oh, I’m just joking! But you know what this means, right? We get to renew your whole closet!”

MC turned around again, perfectly knowing that she could either spent her monthly allowance on clothes or start thinking on how she could rock the oversize streetwear style.

She sighed, trying to hide her smile with no success before speaking again. Asmo’s eyes were stuck on her.

“Very well, then” she wasn’t finish talking yet when the demon clapped his hands and jumped in excitement “I’ll trust your criteria”

He gasped and hit her arm in return.

“As you should!”

“So… how do I look?”

Mammon whistled, clapping and signalling her to turn around in response. Once she did a little twirl, he clapped even harder, not stopping even when she blushed in embarrassment and ran towards him to stop his overly excited appreciation.

“You look mighty fine, MC!”

“Stop!”

“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look?”

“Stop!!”

They were both laughing, her chasing him all around his room with burning cheeks and a gigantic smile.

The shopping bags waited patiently at the door, half of them already empty with a pile of clothes folded on the couch. Mammon had insisted on a private catwalk the moment he learnt she’d gone shopping with Asmo, his offense completely gone barely half an hour after starting the show in his room.

Every time she changed in his opened closet he’d cover his eyes with his hands and every time she came out with a new outfit he’d scream praises like a madman.

MC wasn’t used to this level of compliments and he sure was making it hard to stay calm.

“C’mon, go change again!”

“You’re acting insane right now, Mams”

She was smiling like crazy and her cheeks were hurting, but she didn’t want it to stop. When was the last time someone had been this hyped over her looking pretty? She couldn’t remember.

Then her phone rang.

MC stopped smiling when she saw the name on the screen.

She thought about answering and spoiling a nice evening because of a sour one-sided conversation. Was it worth it? Sure her friend could wait a couple more hours, right? She’d survived without MC the whole year she spent at the Devildom uncommunicated, after all.

“Is it The Unnameable?”

MC stared at her phone for one more second before turning around to look at Mammon, who was kneeling on the couch with his arms crossed over the backrest, eyes peeking with curiosity and another feeling she couldn’t identify.

“The Unname… Robdemor??”

He nodded, blushing and looking away.

“Yeah. You know, like, her name brings bad luck or some shit”

“She doesn’t bring bad luck”

MC didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to and Mammon’s incredulity proved her point.

“Don’t be stupid, MC”

The pot calling the kettle back, she wanted to say, but no words came to her mouth. She was being stupid, wasn’t she? Everyone at the house already knew what to expect whenever her phone ringed or vibrated and they always did their best to distract her so she could leave the damn thing behind. She suspected Belphie even turned it off at one point.

Staring at her feet, trying to voice her feelings, MC talked again.

“She just… needs me sometimes”

“Sometimes??”

Mammon got up, going around the couch to reach her. He looked flabbergasted, eyes opened wide and a myriad of words stuck in his throat.

The phone stopped ringing, but soon a flood of messages interrupted the silence to call for her attention instead. When she looked back at Mammon, he had frustration in his eyes.

She decided then she couldn’t bear to see him like this, so serious and reasonable. Was it too late to go back to chasing each other, laughing while trying new clothes? She’d been capable of keeping her feelings to herself since she could remember, but Mammon wouldn’t let her do that and she feared the moment the rest of the brothers decided enough was enough too.

God, she needed to talk, but not right now. Talking would make it real and she still wasn’t strong enough for the whole situation to be real.

In a matter of seconds her eyes were watering and she felt as if her throat had thorns stuck in her flesh, but before she could do anything about it there were arms wrapping around her. MC wasted no time hugging Mammon back, trying her hardest not to spoil any tears. The tags in the back of her new shirt poked her skin, making her squirm and get even closer to Mammon’s body.

He was rocking her side to side while petting her hair and there was no doubt he’d deny the whole ordeal happening afterwards, but she let herself enjoy the feeling anyways. It was nice being taken care of.

It was the first time MC had gone to bed so early since before college. Her eyelids felt heavy and the bed was soft and comfortable, at least three blankets shielding her from the cold outside that froze her window and sunk her room in darkness.

But she couldn’t stop staring at her phone.

She’d turned the vibration off days ago, but that didn’t stop the notifications from showing up on the lock screen and, although she could also take care of that, MC still wanted to be able to read the messages without needing to open the app.

Her best friend talked about everything, good or bad. Mostly bad. How she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, even when she was the one cheating on him, how much she was eating because there was no one to stop her, how tired she was to even clean her cat’s litter box. She’d say if MC were there everything would be so much better, she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

She didn’t ask about MC once.

“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache”

MC’s body violently jerked at Belphie’s voice.

He’d entered the room in silence, closing the door and approaching her bed without making any noise. Seeing her freaking out made him snicker, but he was too tired to fully laugh and simply laid down next to her.

“Jesus, Belphie”

“No, just me”

“Ha ha ha”

Her sarcasm didn’t affect him in the slightest. MC watched as he closed his eyes and offered his hand to held hers in a firm grasp, probably not wanting to let her go during the night.

“Turn that damn thing off” he growled against the pillow when a new message showed up.

“I’ve seen you sleep on the ground before; you can’t complain about some light”

“Watch me”

She thought he was just joking, challenging her like a small child would, but Belphie managed to surprise her when he rolled over her body, grabbed the phone and threw it to the other side of the room.

“Belphie!”

He shushed, sealing her lips under his hand before hugging her body with all four limbs, trapping her under the covers.

MC could’ve complained and hit him until he let her go to retrieve the phone, but that would’ve meant pissing him off and staring at the screen for another hour or until her friend decided it was time to show some interest in MC’s life.

…

Whoa.

…

So that’s what it was.

That simple, uh?

MC waited for something to happen at her epiphany. Nausea, panic, heavy breathing. Instead, she felt an overpowering sense of relief. Her heartbeat evened and the frown she didn’t know she had in her forehead disappeared.

No headache, no memories. For once, no nothing.

“You’re not dying, aren’t you?”

Belphie’s head rose, looking at her with suspicion, but her eyes were stuck in the ceiling.

“Why? Would you feel guilty?

He stood over her then, pouting and frowning, and MC had to stop herself from laughing.

“Okay, you know what? I already said I was sorry. You can’t hold that against me for the rest of your life”

“I will as long as I can get something out of it”

“You’re evil”

“Said the demon”

His head fell face first on the pillow with a thud and if she didn’t know him any better, she’d be worried about him suffocating to death during the night.

“Why did you ask that, tho?” MC finally talked.

“Your heart stopped for a second” he shrugged and mumbled, his hold on her hand stronger than before.

“Oh… Well… Don’t worry. I’m okay”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really, but she didn’t want to talk about it in that moment. Maybe another time, when her speech wasn’t slurred due to sleep and she could organize her thoughts with a clear mind.

She hummed as an answer before speaking one last time.

“Goodnight, Belphie”

“Sweet dreams, MC”

He’d make sure of that.

MC had been quiet for a while. Not out of sadness nor ire, but something much more private. Something that left her pensive and still, staring into nothing with a serious expression. She laughed and talked with the brothers and, from what he heard, she enjoyed going to the gym with Beel, but Lucifer knew there was another factor escaping his reach.

Whatever it was, it changed MC for the better, so he was happy.

Even when the strangest ideas crossed her mind.

“I think I’m going to cut my hair”

He looked at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw her sitting sideways in one of the chairs with her feet resting in the other. She had a book resting in her lap. How long had she been looking at him and not reading?

“May I ask why?”

“I need a change”

Lucifer stared, taking his glasses off before crossing his arms over the document he was previously reading. MC got up and walked, zigzagging her way towards his desk as if she was drunk, but she looked as hopeful as ever.

“Did something happen?”

She nodded, ignoring his question right after.

“One of these days I’m just gonna… grab a glass of wine, go to the bathroom and bam! Haircut”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile at her words. He hadn’t seen her so playful in months and the sudden change felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Do you even like wine, MC?”

“That’s not the point”

“And you shouldn’t use scissors while drunk, especially near your head” he ignored her “If it’s money you’re worried about, I can pay for a good hairdresser”

She laughed and shook her head, partially sitting on the desk. They stayed silent for a few seconds and Lucifer let himself observe her, how she bit her bottom lip deep in thought and how her fingers intertwined with a certain force. She was probably hurting herself at that point.

“I just really need a change”

He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but that seemed to be enough for the moment. The silence afterwards felt full with comfort.

“That’s fine”

MC nodded and sent him a small smile before going back to the chair, this time sitting with her knees stuck to her chest, but before he could put his glasses on to continue his work, she spoke again.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: I cut my hair in the bathroom and then you take me to the hairdresser to style it. Sounds good?”

“Are you going to drink while using the scissors?”

“I’m not a child, Lucifer”

“Might as well”

“Hey!”

“Just joking” he laughed, but MC could tell there was some seriousness behind his smile.

“I drink wine, I cut my hair and you check I don’t stab myself on accident, how about that?”

Lucifer pondered about it, envisioning himself behind her and watching over her reflection in the mirror, a bottle of wine in the countertop and another of Demonus waiting for them in the music room. She’d be the one to clean the aftermath, that bit was obvious, but something told him she wouldn’t really care about that.

The more he thought about it, the less strength he had to fight it. She could’ve asked Asmodeus or Mammon, but she asked him. MC wanted him to be with her during her progress, as stupid as the method was.

“Sounds like a plan to me, MC”

Her smile at his words was worth millions.

It wasn’t until several hours had passed that MC wondered if Levi invited her to his room with a hidden motive in mind.

The anime came out less than a day ago and she’d never even seen an ad about it, but he’d thoroughly claimed it was made for her.

And she could see why he would say that, honestly.

Sure, no ancient dying star granted her any mystical powers that allowed her to soar the skies or wear an alarmingly short sparkly dress; and she didn’t have an animal sidekick or a romantic interest that only appeared at night for some reason. She didn’t have an arch nemesis either, but she did have the closest thing.

MC was the selfish one, apparently, because how could she? How could MC have the audacity to ignore her best friend’s messages in her desperate times of need? Her boyfriend broke up with her because he discovered the cheating and no one was there to remind her of feeding the cat, neither to monitor her diet nor to fix the consequences of her bad decisions. She was in the lowest point of her life and MC dared to lose weight and spend time with her new friends? Outrageous!

MC unlocked her phone and stared in silence at the new text and voice messages, as well as some missed calls.

You disappoint me, MC.

After all I did for you?

I’ll die and it’ll be your fault.

I’ll die and I’ll make sure you’re the one to discover my body.

You’ll never be able to forget about me then.

You’re disgusting.

MC stared at the screen, not knowing if she should laugh or cry about it. In the end she chuckled and forced down the sting in her throat.

The TV in front of her suddenly turned into a kaleidoscope and she squinted as the heroine jumped from platform to platform, blasting her wand and singing spells. If she understood correctly, the cheery character was fighting her way through the first big boss of the season, her friends close behind her.

She could feel Levi’s eyes on her, no doubt studying her reactions to see if she liked the anime as much as he did.

“Hey, Henry!”

MC turned to look at him and smiled brightly at his rosy cheeks. She expected him to explain some hidden lore or the meaning behind the soundtrack, but he surprised her with his next words.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t told you yet, but your hair looks so cool!”

“Oh!” she widely opened her eyes in appreciation, showing her teeth in a beaming smile right after “Thanks, Levi!”

“You look… eh… upgraded. Well, no, not upgraded. Erm…” he avoided her gaze for the next few seconds before pausing the anime, letting the room go back to silence. MC kept quiet, trying not to laugh at his awkwardness so he wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.

“You look really pretty, MC. Even better than her”

Levi nodded at the TV and MC stared at the heroine, the pause conveniently showing her winning pose. Big sparkly eyes winking at her and a knowing smile occupying half of her face, as if she was approving Levi’s affirmation.

MC felt the need to cry right then and there, but she held it in.

Her phone lighted up one last time before she grabbed it and turned it off in anger. She had a couple of seconds before the screen permanently went back to black, letting her read the last message.

Who do you think you are? How could you do this to me?

MC seethed. She knew who she was, even if she was still learning. Her hands itched and she forced herself not to throw the phone on the ground with all her strength. She still needed it to talk to other friends and relatives, after all.

After an entire minute filled with tense silence, MC spoke, suddenly meek and shy.

“Hey Lev…”

“MC?”

He was staring her with caring eyes, unsure of what to do or what to say.

Fortunately, for the first time in a long while, MC knew what she needed to do. For herself and no one else.

“Would you help me change my phone number?”

She could write down the numbers of those she cared about the most and send a message asking them not to share hers without her permission.

Take care of her arch nemesis without destroying the entire world. Accept the help of people who showed joy at her improvement. Buy new clothes, change her style, cut her hair.

God, walking without that heavy weight on her shoulders would be difficult and painful, but she’d rather die before letting her ex best friend destroy her will and power one last time.

She laughed with a choke and Levi gasped her name.

She was crying.

@ourfinalisation

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themoonsbeloved · 4 months

Text

I still need help

Its now the 8th of January and despite being told by my friend who spoke with her boss 3 weeks ago during their meeting that he was to hire me in the beginning of January and would reach out to me, he hasn't. I'm hoping somehow, eventually, when this man finally bothers to, he will contact me for a job offer since he reassured me back in november that he still intends to hire me. But since I have no idea when that will be, that means I'm left hanging completely.

long story short I am mentally ill and disabled who was dismissed from my last and only job that I struggled 2 years to get, only to be fired in 2 months in June because of my chronic fatigue and abusive managers. I rely a lot on my henna but bookings are not consistent enough to make regular income, and majority of the money ends up going to contributing to house bills for my family.

My therapy picks up again this week, very honestly been the only thing keeping me from harming myself at this point with how painful life has been and I want to be able to continue getting it low cost (£25 per session), my therapist is so amazing and we recently came to the understanding that I have complex-PTSD, and plan to look into it more this year. I'm too mentally ill to try and look for jobs right now and am basically doing 3 jobs already (one being joint caring duties with family members for my grandparents since I live with them, which I'm not paid for obviously) with inconsistent money coming in/sessional work that I will be paid for once completed further into the year.

I have so many other costs that are coming in the near future, like paying for more medication, and for more lazer hair removal sessions for my severe hirsutism, which usually is around £300 if I'm lucky to catch offers. This is another I thing I mentally can't afford to stop doing, struggling with severe hirsutism and the trauma of it all my life means its important I can feel and live somewhat comfortably in my body. Lazer hair isn't permanent and I'm looking into electrolysis, but again, I don't have that money yet and would prefer to not leave a huge gap where I don't do lazer and the mental torture of watching my body hair grow back. I also haven't gotten my eyes checked in over 3 years, and know I will need a change in perscription and need new glasses. I hate nothing more than what its come to. I'm just exhausted and burnt out from the constant anxiety and depressive episodes, I'm barely eating or sleeping, I'm sick of everything and everyone and I just wish god would give me a break.

With all of the above in mind I'm aiming for about £600. This is all basically to help me just function and continue getting the things that help me not succumb to my mental health issues. If anything, my birthday's coming up in feb so I would appreciate it if folks gave some money if they have the means to. Anything is fine at this point.

Thank you so much

https://paypal.me/iffiia?country.x=GB&locale.x=en_GB

£0/£600

#help

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partycatty · 4 months

Note

i need more dark star johnny IF U CAN 🙏🙏

or! therapy <3

dark star!johnny cage > nobody else

expanding on this post, specifically when i mention how unfair he is regarding attention from others

warnings: again, abusive relationship. johnny being annoying. smut w degradation and sadism (not explicitly consented to)

notes: guys i'm starting to think we can't fix him...

masterlist <3

part 1*/ part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

•dark star!johnny cage, as previously mentioned, loves having you hang off of his arm like a pretty handbag. you're his accessory on the red carpet and he prefers to keep it that way. he'll strut and pose while you stand behind him and look pretty.

•you guys are getting ready for the red carpet event that leads into a cast interview for ninja mime 3.

•"i can't have you looking too good, sugar. you'll take all the attention." he says as you twirl around in your fancy dress, one that's sure to match his outfit. when you guys are in public, you need to match. it's like his only requirement. it's not a hard task either, since this man's wardrobe is DIVERSE. he's got that stupid coat in all colors

•god that coat is so stupid and dumb and oversized he's such a cornball but GOD DO YOU LOVE FUCKING HIM WHILE HE KEEPS IT ON LMFAO SORRY ANYWAY

•johnny's hand rests confidently on the small of your back, though he's doing it to guide you rather than comfort you. he discreetly uses it to move you along, but stops in his tracks at a young girl holding an MTV labeled microphone. she looks to be about nineteen, maybe twenty. she smiles, batting her lashes at your boyfriend and pays minimal attention to you.

•i should say, you have your chunk of fame, but it's from being johnny's girlfriend. only his real fans know your name. it's always been "johnny and his latest fling," "cage's match," "johnny and that one girl." this was fine with you. your boyfriend would prefer it that way.

•back to the girl, though. she stands, a little nervously on the carpet waiting to catch actors, and ended up scoring the lead star. she introduces herself and opens by saying she won an MTV raffle to interview celebrities on the red carpet. she's awkward, but her smile is bright and her body is defined under her little dress.

•johnny makes an obvious effort at showing his interest in her, lowering his sunglasses down his nose and drinking in her view top to bottom and back again. you can't argue back. you won't argue back. not in public. smiling a sweet smile, your fingernails dig into your palms.

•"aren't you the cutest little thing?" johnny says, grabbing her face and leaning in close. "could just eat you up." and the girl almost collapses at his advance, knees buckling as she anxiously reads through the bland interview questions. johnny smirks that classic smirk and answers in his typical fashion, referring to himself as "sexy face" and "the boom" as he rambles on and on about how much work it takes to be as perfect as he is.

•as he's enamored with this complete stranger, you feel a hand on your bare shoulder. you spin around and see one of johnny's co-stars! he greets you with a grin and says you look great, putting a hand on your arm to show his sincerity. it feels warm, it feels genuine. for a moment, it feels better than the love that johnny gives you, if you could even call it that.

•the thoughts are abruptly ejected from your mind when johnny reaches across from you and grabs a fistful of the co-star's dress shirt, holding him in place. honestly, this man probably looks like a peacock rn, showing off his feathers by standing tall and wearing that dumb blue coat. sillies aside, the co-star immediately tenses up and puts his arms up in a surrender pose. johnny pauses and looks around, people are horrified at the sight and what could've come of it. his eyes lead to you, and he groans to himself, releasing the other man and grabbing your wrist, not hard enough to raise eyebrows but enough to tell you he was fuming. his giant sunglasses conceal his furrowed brows and glaring eyes. if there's one thing he'd save, it'd be his reputation. the last thing he wants is an assault charge on a co-star, so who better to take it out on than his girlfriend?

•johnny pulls you away from the cameras and ogling eyes, slamming the door to the women's bathroom and locking it. almost immediately, he's towering over you, holding you by your shoulder against the door and pointing in your face with the other.

•"you're a fucking whore," he says with a nasty tone. "you enjoy getting men's attention, don't you? you just love pissing me off." he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks but it's nowhere near a cute gesture. "who do you belong to?"

•"you—" you muffle out, afraid to look at him when he gets like this. the sunglasses make it easier. that is, until he tucks them into the collar of his shirt to get a better look at you. his eyes are animalistic, wildly infuriated that you even bothered to give another man a smithereen of attention. "i belong to—"

•SMACK. johnny backhands you, the ring sending a nasty red streak across your face. you whimper, legs weakening. it's just a damn shame you're a masochist, huh?

•"speak up," he commands, now caressing that part of your face. "i'm only asking one more time. who do you belong to?"

•like some kind of sick and twisted game, johnny's hand lifts one of your legs, holding it up by your thigh. before you'd get the chance to use your voice properly, his hand expertly lifts up your skirt enough to swipe two fingers across your shamefully wet panties. you yelp out and grab hold of his sleeves to stabilize yourself. he chuckles breathily, momentarily forgetting to be angry.

•he watches your face contort as he applies pressure with two rough fingers on your pulsating clit. it's like he's trying to make responding difficult. you put a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises of protest, but johnny removes your hand and pins it above your head. he uses his legs to divide yours, the closeness now intoxicating with his expensive cologne. you can feel his hot, hard cock on your thigh, but we'll get to that later.

•"not... not here–" you try to protest, but end up involuntarily moving your hips to relieve the pressure he's putting on your clit. johnny, still mad but now also amused, leans into your ear.

•"you wanna be a whore? i'm gonna make you one, whether you like it or not."

•johnny removes his hand from your panties and admires the shine on the pads of his fingers. he chuckles and forces them into your mouth, which you lick reluctantly, looking downward.

•"eyes on the prize," he purrs, making you look up at him through your lashes.

•"i'm sorry," you mumble out, a trail of saliva from his fingers dribbling down your lips when he pulls them away. "i belong to you, sir."

•"fuckin' prove it then," he replies in a deep grumble, one his other hand to push you to your knees by your neck and the other fumbling with his stupidly large belt. his cock springs free, and you swear that thing is never not hard. homeboy's probably gettin ED at 39.

•both good and bad johnny strike me as a 7.5 incher, cut with a pink tip and a slight curve. and yes, he waxes. of course he waxes, have you looked at the fucker?

•should also mention, when it comes to sex, he is entirely focused on himself. very rarely will he eat you out or rub your clit as he fucks you, unless he's trying to prove a point that he can treat you better than any other man. tragically, he's treating this instance as a need for a punishment, where you need to serve him.

•he holds your pretty hair together like a ponytail and pushes you forward, pressing his flushed tip against your pillowy lips. he doesn't even need to say "open," you do so willingly and hold your tongue out the way he likes.

•"you gonna take me like the slut you are?" johnny asks with a little groan as his tip smacks against your tongue. all you can do is nod before he thrusts, his shaft being caressed by the fleshy insides of your mouth. you curse yourself mentally for not fixing that gag reflex he hates so much as you do indeed gag on his dick while it hits the back of your throat. you silently wish he got into the habit of easing himself in rather than shoving full force.

•even though dark star!johnny is more dominant, he still whimpers, even if he hates to admit it. when the tip kisses the back of your throat, he lurches forward a tad, letting out a sweet whimper before composing himself again.

•also i'm so glad the mk fandom just all agrees he whimpers isn't that so funny

•"you gonna start sucking, or am i fucking that pretty face myself?" he asks through gritted teeth, thrusting a little deeper to warn you. you gag again and try your hardest to shake your head.

•"good girl, for once," johnny mumbles. "sit still."

•johnny removes his throbbing cock from your throat, only for a moment. still holding your hair back, he gently thrusts his tip repeatedly against your lips, shuddering when he feels the groove of the head pop in and out as it catches on your lips. his salty precum coats your tongue, which you kitten lick up straight from the slit. his lips part to let sweet moans drip out, eyeing you down and pleased with his actions.

•he pulls out fully for a moment, fumbling in his front pocket to grab his phone and hitting record with the camera aimed down at you. he smiles wickedly, biting his lower lip.

•"you better suck me off nice and good, doll, or the whole world is gonna see what a little slut you are," he growls, reaching down to grab your chin and angle you upward. you make eye contact with the camera and open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out. johnny places a thumb on your tongue and presses down, admiring the view. his hand moves back down to his cock, stroking it a couple times before smacking it on your cheek.

•"what if someone hears us?" you whisper out, eyelids fluttering. johnny scoffs and rubs himself against your warm tongue again.

•"then they'll know i own you," he replies with a smile. "open." and so you open your mouth even more, and johnny thrusts himself into you again, this time at a less than sweet pace.

•since it's not the first time, you're sure to look up at the camera as he uses your mouth relentlessly. johnny's hand pushes down hard on the back of your head, forcing you to take his full dick down your throat for a couple of seconds. you gag again despite your best attempts to hold your breath, and his head leans back as he lets out a long, breathy moan.

•"you're fuckin' killin' me here," he moans out, head still thrown back. "ohh, you know i hate doin' this to you, but you gotta know not to toy with me. gotta learn your lesson, yeah? yeah?"

•as he asks you, he places a crisp, firm smack on your cheek again with his dick still inside, making you yelp again. the vibration of your voice rattles his shaft and it makes him twitch, his thighs buckling inward. you have to hold onto his hips so you don't topple over.

•after some time of ruthlessly throatfucking you, you feel his thigh muscles tense up and his thrusts grow increasingly more staggered. his cock doesn't reach the back of your throat as rhythmically as it did and he was starting to lean over you, pushing his hands on the sides of your neck to keep him upright. his delicious moans and groans start turning into breathy whimpers as he desperately chases his release. you feel yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of breathing, only able to get gasps of air in between his cock stuffing your mouth. you look straight ahead for a moment and stifle a laugh at a ring of your lipstick painting the base of his dick.

•pocketing his phone momentarily, johnny uses a hand to pull the bottom of his shirt up to his teeth, biting down on it and revealing his gorgeous, glowing torso. his eyes clench shut as he leans forward again with the bundle of cloth in his mouth.

•"— ngh — 'm not having you ruin th' shirt, was expensive — oh, fuck —"

•all you can do is let out pathetic gurgling noises and gasps as you're used like a fleshlight. johnny starts to struggle holding the phone upright, so he hands it to you with shaking hands.

•"hah... you record," he commands breathily, shoving the phone into your palm. at this point too cock-drunk to protest, you flip the camera and angle it toward yourself like a high-angle selfie. you bat your damp lashes as prettily as you possibly can given the circumstances. johnny wipes your dripping mascara with his thumb.

•on a home stretch, johnny picks up the now brutal pace and you try hard to not scrape your teeth along his shaft but it gets increasingly difficult to angle your mouth properly. he bites down hard on the shirt, face scrunching up as he reaches his orgasm.

•leaning over your body, johnny lazily thrusts into your mouth and you feel his hot, sticky semen coat the walls of your throat. he lets out a little gasp at each pulse of his cock, and you take his moment of vulnerability to suck him dry, feeling him throb hungrily. when he's fully emptied, you remove yourself and swallow, confirming the action by opening your mouth and showing the camera. johnny's tip leaks even after pulling out, twitching upward as he rides the final waves of his high.

•johnny lets out a long sigh, running a clean hand through his hair and fixing what strands were stuck to his forehead. his cheeks are flushed and his mouth is agape as he catches his breath. when he feels okay to speak again, he doesn't even look down at you.

•"if... i catch you like that again," he lazily threatens, head tilted back and eyes on the ceiling. "i won't be so nice. are we clear?"

•you swallow the last bit of saliva mixed with his fluid and nod before replying with a clear "yes, sir." johnny looks back down at you, pleased by your once beautifully done hair now ruined from his doing. your mascara ran down your cheeks and your lipstick was barely clinging onto your lips.

•"brought your makeup?" he asks, stuffing his half-hard dick back into his pants. you nod and pull out the makeup you needed to touch up. "good girl. get yourself fixed up, we've been gone a while."

•you lean forward in the bathroom mirror without a word of protest, wiping your face with your fingers and reapplying your makeup to not raise suspicion.

•johnny towers behind you, smoothing down your hair with two hands as he admires you in the reflection. his hands wander a bit, squeezing your breasts from behind as he presses his hips into your ass. he was always uncharacteristically touchy and sweet after intimacy, as if it was a shitty apology for his roughness. he kisses your shoulder, trailing up to your neck and then your cheek.

•"you know i love you, right?" he asks into the soft flesh of your cheek. "nobody else can have you like this. i'll kill anyone that tries. you're mine, sweet thing."

•he wraps his arms around your waist and rocks you gently as you touch up your makeup. he seems pleased that you got your lesson of the night, even though johnny's co-stars were now scouring the red carpet to relocate him. you two just hoped that your flushed cheeks and damp skin disappears before someone started knocking.

•"if you ever try to pull anything with another man, i'm posting that video," he whispers with a sickeningly sweet tone, kissing your cheek and parting from your body. "now come on. i have an interview."

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut

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elsweetheart · 1 year

Note

ok hi same anon and i agree, i’m not a stone but i love stone identities so much! also can i pls get some nsfw hcs of stone ellie helping her gf de-stress during exam season :))))

stone tops are the backbone of our society i salute them i also giggle and kick my feet for them🫡

combining this request with this one:

your dealer!ellie au is so so so so good !!! her talking about how pretty you are with pretty pink eyes… im literally barking rn pls do a part 2 (maybe with some smut cause im down bad) if you have the chance !!! <3 xoxoxox

it’s dealer!ellie i hope you don’t mind! gotta love our stone stoner 🤭

brief daddy kink mention + obvious usage of weed so skip if that makes u uncomfy. fem reader !

herbal therapy — dealer!ellie

🎀 smut !! reader calls ellie daddy, drugs are involved, mentions of stress

• it had been a long week, you had literally been living in the library with your head buried in your books and laptop preparing for your exams. pressure was being applied from everywhere in your life, and before you reached your breaking point you decided to grant yourself a day to relax.

• well, you don’t exactly decide — you can’t concentrate on your work because you started crying due to the stress, and in that moment you just needed your girlfriend to make it all go away.

• so, you show up to her dorm with your bag and a downturned pout, tears welling in your eyes. her brows furrowed when she saw how done you looked and slowly pulled you into her arms, eyes flickering over you. “oh! hey! you’re crying!” she whispered, eyes wide and face worried.

• she pulled you into her room and shut the door, bringing you over to her bed and sitting down, pulling you onto her lap. “talk to me, what happened?” she was sure to speak gently not knowing how fragile you were feeling. you sniffled loudly, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands. “s’just too much. need a night away from it all. wanted to be with you.” you tell her dejectedly and she nods in understanding, squeezing you close and resting her chin on your shoulder. “I’m yours all night, you’ll be alright.” she comfort, kissing your cheek.

• she orders you both a pizza, and god she’s just being so fucking gentle with you it makes you wanna cry everytime you look at her. she even holds you whilst you eat your pizza, her leaning her back to the wall with you laying with your back to her chest, sat up so you can eat. she doesn’t expect you to reply to her too much, but she’ll talk to you quietly in your ear about the movie you’re watching or something that happened to her earlier. her voice is so comforting it soothes you enough for your stress to start melting away a little.

• “you wanna get a little high? might help you relax a little, babe.” she all but whispers in your ear after your food had gone down, the movie on the screen illuminating the room. you turn your face to her, running your eyes over her freckles, her eyebrow scar, her pretty green eyes. it takes you a moment to respond because you’re so mesmerised by her, finally getting out a weak “mhm.” which makes her smile like she’s proud of you, pressing a kiss to your slightly parted lips.

• she prepares it all for you, letting you get the first hit like she always does. the two of you had figured out what your limit was, and honestly the two of you rarely smoked together because she was constantly telling you it was bad for you etc — but times like this did call for a little herbal therapy. you smoked your usual amount until your eyes were all pink and hazy just how she liked it and you felt fuzzy and warm on the inside. she finished off the rest easily, her tolerance way higher.

• she leans back on the bed and you lay down with her, practically trying to climb into her clothes with how close you wanted to be. “wish you could shrink me down so i could be in your pocket all day n’you could take me everywhere.” you hum into her and she chuckles low in her chest, palms flattening against your back as she rubs up and down. “i wouldn’t put you in my pocket, come on now. i’d obviously have you sit on my shoulder like a little parrot. s’way cooler.” she theorises and you pull back, nodding with doe eyes and a serious expression which makes her laugh even more at you taking her answer to heart. “you’re so cute. my cute little lady.” she cups your cheeks with a funny voice making you giggle before she presses her lips to your puckered one’s. you melt into the kiss and it deepens naturally, her hand pushing your lower back to arch you gently into her. you take it one step further, hooking your leg over her thigh and her hands roam lower, squeezing your ass as she slips her tongue into your mouth. you whimper, the weed having you so sensitive to touch that everything felt amazing and you’d barely even started making out. you felt the warmth and wetness begin to spread in your panties and if you weren’t high you might’ve been ashamed over how easy it was.

• her lips attack your neck as she encourages you with her hands to grind against her thigh, causing you to whine in satisfaction at the warm friction against your clit. “mhm?” she cooes against your skin when you do, making you all the more wetter knowing exactly what you had in store. ellie was gonna look after you, just like she always does.

• deciding enough was enough, ellie gently rolled you onto your back— pushing herself up onto her knees as her eyes ran over your heaving figure for a second. “y’wanna take these off for me?” she pat your pants lightly, leaning over to her bedside table to drink out of her water bottle before cupping the back of your neck to sit you up a little and holding it to your lips, pausing you in your undressing. “good girl.” she praised casually, eyes on your wet lips. as she did up the cap of the bottle you were quick to pull off your pants, grabbing at her tshirt to pull her back to you. as you did this, you caught the ghost of a smirk at your desperation on her face before she kissed you again, holding herself up over you.

• her larger hand crept down you, before nudging your thighs a little wider and cupping you through your panties. you gasp at this, and she chuckles at your reaction, digging her fingers in slightly. “ellie…” you whisper against her lips and she pulls away to kiss your chin before dropping her head to look at what her hand was doing. her hand trailed up and brushed over your clit making your legs jerk slightly and her fingers curled around the fabric of your panties. before you could wonder what she was doing, she gently tugged them up, causing the material to bunch and rub against your sensitive button.

• “mm—mgh, o’mygod” you whimpered, not being able to do anything but pant for a moment. she was looking back up at you now, watching your reaction and she let the smirk grace her face once more, continuing to tug. “y’like that?” she mutters, almost slightly taken aback and you nod, swallowing down a thick gulp. “so sensitive.” she commented teasingly even quieter than before, beginning to pull your underwear off completely unable to wait any longer.

• she pushed herself off you so she could ease her way down the bed, coming face to face with your cunt. you went to close your legs, but she gently eased them open— taking your hand that covered your modesty and running her thumb along the backs of your knuckles looking up at you. “s’just me.” she cooed and your heart fluttered, nodding as if hypnotised. “just you.” you repeat in a broken whisper before her eyes are on your pussy again, thumbs coming even side of the lips to spread them apart. she was high, so naturally she was entranced by how pretty it was taking a moment to admire you as she dragged a finger through your soaked slit.

• “please.” you eventually pouted and she snapped out of it, dragging a thumb up to your clit making you moan. dipping her head down she began leaving wet kisses on your thighs, pleased hums leaving her when the sensation of this would cause you to spread your legs for her even wider trying to urge her face closer to your heat. “m’gonna take care of you. gonna take care of you so well, pretty girl.” she promised against your warm skin and you mewled, hands curling into the sheets beneath you.

• ellie pushed a finger inside your wet warmth and you melted into the sheets, for once not making sound. your eyes were screwed shut and you were holding your breath without realising, trying to focus solely on the feeling of her finger being gripped by your walls. her finger didn’t move, and you were pulled out of it when she looked up at you with a gentle yet stern expression, hazy eyes focused in one yours. “breathe.” her hand stroked your thigh lovingly and you released a shaky breath. she began moving her finger again, working you open before adding another and curling them up against your gummy spot.

• your back arched off the bed and she took that as the perfect opportunity to wrap an arm around your thigh and pull you closer until her hot mouth was on your slit, licking up any juices that had leaked from you. the substances inside you heightened the euphoria of this, tears welling in your eyes as she mouthed at you hungrily.

• you didn’t know how much time had passed, it all had blurred into one as ellie made you cum over and over. during the last orgasm she drew out of you, her hand dragged up to your tummy feeling the way it spasmed and clenched and remained tense after you had hit your peak. something in you was still holding onto that stress whether you realised it or not.

• she pushed herself up rather abruptly, and your eyes fluttered open to see her staring at you, taking in all of your features analytically like she was going to draw a picture of you. your brow was still slightly tense, your jaw too. you pressed your lips together swallowing, just waiting for her next move — because ellie always knew what to do, ellie always knew how to make it better. you still looked hungry, and she realised you needed more. “you need to get fucked.” she told you so casually like it was an obvious realisation and you inhaled through your mouth, head dizzy with just how serious she was. you couldn’t help a whine slip out your mouth as your teary eyes gazed into hers, still convinced that you were too sensitive from the orgasms you’d already received. “i know, baby.” she whispered, cupping your face as if she’d read your mind. “my girl is still all tense. y’just need a little bit of dick to let go of it all don’t you?” she cooed so gently that you felt a tear roll down the side of your cheek and onto the pillow beside you. she swiped it away with her thumb, lips still glistening from you and nodded, a pout on her own face. “yeah. need me to make it all better.” she kissed you, and your breath caught in your throat when you tasted yourself. ellie had a way of making your head get so fucked, to the point where all you knew was her. she didn’t even have to try to take charge you just naturally… gave it all to her.

• you don’t remember her getting up, you just knew she was just suddenly lazily clipping her strap on onto her harness, not bothering to remove her sweats underneath. your senses were alive and practically vibrating within you when she swiped the plastic tip along through your folds, sighing like she could feel it herself. “els, want it—please.” you heard yourself say and she didn’t keep you waiting, pushing it in slow to the hilt and holding it there, kissing you through the stretch.

• “need you to relax for me. big breath in, okay? do it with me.” she whispered and you blindly followed her. the two of you, faces close, eyes locked just breathing together. your high felt elevated, and in that moment you thought the two of you might just become one person. she seemed to give in, latching her lips to yours and sucking on your bottom lip, both hands cradling your neck like she couldn’t get enough. “you gonna let me take care of that pretty pussy?” she breathed into your mouth and you were whimpering out desperate ‘yes!’s before you could even stop to think. ellie was fucking you, slow and deep and you were crying because there was truly nothing better in the world than her giving you exactly what you needed in that moment.

• lost in the moment, she pushed your knees up to your chest and your mouth fell open as she hit your spot which spurred her on to grind her strap into you with even more energy. “‘taking me so well. look at that. look how good you’re taking it. fuck me.” she cursed, gently wrapping her hand round your chin to make you look down at the soaked plastic disappearing in and out of you.

• “mm—hmhph daddy!” you sniffled and she was suddenly kissing you again so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of you. you didn’t mean to say it, but nothing ever seemed totally off the table with ellie as she just wanted to make you feel good — she knew being ‘daddy’ was what you needed, and boy did it sound pretty coming from your swollen lips. “mhm. i’m daddy. cum for me m’right here. keep takin’ it for daddy.” she groaned against your lips, doing everything in her power to get you there. she knew snaking a hand between you and letting you hump your abused clit against it would seal the deal and it did— your ears ringing as you tumbled over your last peak. somewhere in the back of your mind you thought about the students living on the other sides of ellie’s dorm walls hearing all of this but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she talked you through cumming. “good girl, so fuckin’ beautiful.”

• ellie got what she wanted too, a completely relaxed and limp girlfriend. it’s almost like she could see the previous, remaining stress float away from your body like steam and she smiled, catching her breath. she slowly pulled out, glancing at the mess you’d made of her strap and the blanket beneath you. “messy girl.” she tutted lightheartedly with a grin on her face and you reached weakly for her, using the rest of your energy to do so. “gotta clean you up, babe.” she reminded you but you pouted, so naturally she was crawling back over you and pulling you into her chest to cuddle. “inna bit.” you slurred, seeming drunk and fucked out which filled her with endless pride.

• she kissed the top of your head, resting her chin on it as you enjoyed the sleepy silence before she spoke. “‘that help you at all?” she knew the answer, hell— she was feeling smug as ever, but she needed verbal confirmation. she needed to hear you say it. “mhm. needed it bad n’i didn’t even know. but you always know.” you were muffled in her tshirt, practically asleep at this point.

• it was true. ellie always knows. ellie always makes it better.

• her lips attacked your neck as she pulled you to grind lazily on her thigh and you let out another shaky moan, causing her to hum an encouraging “mhm?” against you, turning you on even more. her hands were warm when they pushed up your shirt to squeeze at your tits, your moans only getting more lustful.

• deciding enough was enough she gently rolled you onto your back, pushing herself up on her knees.

• she orders you food, your favourite kind - and the two of you curl up and watch a movie, ellie doing her best to

#dealer!ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie tlou2 smut

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myvampyrez · 1 month

Note

What's your Vergil Sparda headcanons sfw and nsfw (you don't have to make this one if you don't want it) :)

vergil (n)sfw hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

omg why did it take me so long just to do simple headcanons 😭😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

some curse words, spoilers for vergil lore in general, spoilers for mission 08 and so forth in dmc5, nsfw is labelled before written so read at your own discretion!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ sooo, in deep contrast to his twin brother, all know vergil is super serious

❥ i mean, if you spent a bunch of your time in hell, wouldn’t it take a toll on you too???

❥ because of what’s happened to vergil, it’ll be really difficult to actually get through to him

❥ even just small talk or simple touches are uncomfortable for him at the beginning

❥ and in order for him to trust you, you gotta be super persistent to actually stick with him

❥ i feel like vergils too stubborn for things like therapy, i don’t feel like he’d like to admit he needs help

❥ he’d probably keep going until he he overexerts himself or snaps, which would probably take a while considering he can endure a lot before giving in

❥ once you guys are actually together though, you’re essentially one step further to getting to the center of vergil because it means you’ve already broken down some of his walls

❥ vergils the type of guy to love silently, and maybe more distantly than a normal person would love

❥ but whoever said he was a normal person?

❥ he doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings, so he takes up avoiding you as his own way in hopes that you’ll come to him

❥ you walk into a room? he walks out

❥ you sit next to him? he’ll keep his nose buried in a book or his work in hopes that you’ll ‘pester’ him

❥ don’t let his feigned annoyance fool you, he prays for you to approach him

❥ by no means is vergil shy, but when you spend so many years in hell.. you kinda lack social cues

❥ he obviously know what love is, he’s not clueless, but it feels different when it comes to you

❥ it almost feels foreign

❥ vergil loves showing off that your his and he’s yours, he’ll buy you a pendant with a blue gem or something with his name engraved in it

❥ if you whine enough, he’ll ‘give in’ (he’s just acting tough) and read to you at night ‘begrudgingly’

❥ if you read too, he’ll curtly leave a book that he think you’ll like on your nightstand when he comes home

❥ if you eat dinner at the table, he’ll have you sit next to him so he can lock ankles with you or link your pinkies under the table

❥ other than that, vergil’s not rlly into pda?

❥ if anything, he’ll stand next to you or sit close enough to where your legs or thighs touch. that’s kinda like his ver. of pda 😭

❥ if you get along with nero or if maybe v saw how you got along with him before you knew he was vergil, even if he treats nero as a pest, it somewhat confuses him?

❥ maybe even almost upsets him??

❥ it just gives him a glimpse on what he could’ve had, and i guess it somewhat creates a dull ache within him knowing he could’ve been a present figure in nero’s life with you

❥ def an early bird, the type of dude to kiss your forehead before he leaves in the morning because he know you won’t wake up to see him before he goes

❥ ugh just imagine vergil staring down at you for a minute, contemplating his decisions while looking at your serene form before leaning down and placing a feather light kiss to your forehead so as to not wake you up

❥ i need to be contained

❥ he wouldn’t let you see it but he sometimes cracks a smile at just the thought of doing mundane activities, even if they’re such small tasks, he still cherishes the thought of a small life with you even if he’s married to his work

❥ but god forbid you’re around dante though, and if you’re playful n teasing like him?? vergil will never hear the end of dante’s irritating tales told to you of when they were children

❥ it probably ends up with yamato pressed against dante’s throat but it’s all brotherly fun guys don’t worry

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

the familiar coos sung by the mourning doves fell deaf on VERGIL’s ears, only picking up your soft breaths as your chest rose up and down with each one you took. he couldn’t help but admire how comfortable you looked in your sleep—with your lips parted slightly and hair splayed out messily as it stayed trapped under you.

he cocked his head in bemusement at the sight of golden rays dancing on you collarbone, tinting the skin with the early sun of dawn. he was surprised you hadn’t woken up yet, considering the golden hue beamed along your face as well. one upside of getting to work early was seeing your peaceful face in the mornings. vergil studied your face as if he’d never see it again, and in a way, not seeing you again was very possible. due to being a devil hunter, risks were high. but vergil couldn’t bear the thought of doing that to you. he studied your face so carefully, eyes roaming across your skin to commit every single one of your features to memory.

his eyes of silver, once crinkled in pain and alone, now looked at you curiously as they caught every glimpse of you. the way your eyebrows furrowed when your mind swirled with its own concoction of your dreams, the way you changed positions to search for what he could only assume was the cold part of the pillow.

he felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched you stir in your sleep, turning your head over and allowing another angle of your beauty to be silently worshipped by your lover.

as he leaned down, he made sure to bend at the waist in order to make limited noise, cursing the material of his coat scrunching and making a slight sound as it crinkled. and as his lips connected with your forehead, he reveled in the smell of your shampoo from your shower that you took last night as he closed his eyes, holding his lips there in a feather light kiss.

then, just as quickly as they had been placed—his lips left your forehead as he began to exit the bedroom, taking one last glance at your resting form before he quietly closed the door.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

NSFW BELOW ꨄ︎

❥ i know i just wrote that cute ass blurb but now that we’re talking nsfw, vergil is def a quick learner

❥ obviously it’ll take a while to initiate intimacy, and as aforementioned—even just hand holding takes a while for him to digest

❥ but shit, this man has stamina for days

❥ being half a demon definitely doesn’t help, but vergil can actually go so long in the sheets w you 😭

❥ he’ll be awkward at first, unsure of what to do but once you guide him and reassure him that it’s okay to touch you, you just unlocked smth else in him omg

❥ his libido isn’t very high, but on the days that you guys do get intimate, he can last a while

❥ he’ll assure that you both are satisfied by the end of it, likes to know that you’ve finished before him at least once

❥ if you’ve gotten really bratty or you’ve gotten him really into it, you might feel him borderline triggering as his claws dig into your hips a little more and his groans get more guttural

❥ sorry guys—this man will not bottom or be any sort of submissive, and if he does, you will need to be in a committed relationship for at least a year or two

❥ he def has control issues

❥ in terms of talking dirty, he still holds that sharp precise tone when he speaks

❥ i don’t feel like hes much a degrading guy? maybe more possessive talk if anything

❥ this man doesn’t cuss often, but occasionally if you clench around him, he’ll let out a small huff of, “shit.” even if it’s barely audible

❥ i think maybe he teases you a bit, enough just to get you hot and bothered so you’ll be writhing underneath him

❥ being half-demon gives him some package guys, trust

❥ vergil’s lengthier, a small sensitive vein on the underside of him that you could use to your advantage on the off chance you suck him off

❥ when vergils in a certain mood, he’ll kiss on your skin (another form of teasing) and murmurs praises of how divine you look

❥ he loves the way your hands grip at the sheets, or the way they rush to your mouth as you try to cover up those pretty sounds while he’s giving you pleasure—no matter how many times he tells you to let them slip out

❥ not a big fan of marks, either on him or you. he still has to go outside and so do you, he’d probably be pretty embarrassed if someone saw them and questioned what happened

❥ unlike dante, vergil is pretty quiet about his love and sex life, he likes to keep it pretty tame and under wraps

❥ prefers to make it intimate rather than a quick fuck, he wants you to feel every ounce of love in his movements—whether it’s with his tongue, hands, or just his length

❥ he likes to drag it out too, i’m not talking quickies, i’m talking about full on ‘love making’ sessions (yes, he’ll refer to them as that most of the time)

❥ like i said, he wants you to feel every last bit of it with his body, unless you want him to spew some poetry out of the blue expressing his feelings—he can’t express them with regular words for shit

❥ he wants you to see what you’re doing to him, how you affect him, what you mean to him is more important than anything

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #x reader #vergil sparda x reader #vergil sparda #vergil dmc #dmc vergil x reader #dmc vergil #devil may cry vergil #devil may cry vergil x reader #dmc5 vergil #dmc3 vergil #ODOTTIE *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*#kiss kiss

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httpsghostie · 9 months

Note

First time asking so I'm a bit shy. I would like to know how Konig would be with his sensitive goth girlfriend or wife and how he pleases her. 😉

my first req!!!!!??!+_$(2(28)3 (I have no words I am happy happy happy

wrote in topics cause I didn't know how else to do so-

hope you enjoy it I made it with love and horniness god i am obsessed with this man i need therapy

masterlist

nsfw under the cut

Can't help but think König would be the type of guy to spend hours between the legs of his lover if he was allowed to

He'd be laying on his stomach, face buried between your tattooed thighs, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive skin, one of his hands cupping your tit while the other one was slowly pumping two fingers inside of you

He loves to eat you out at his pace, he likes to take his time, he'll probably even roll on his back and pull you on top of his face so you can ride him

Your legs trembled, and you were soon to be a whining mess on top of him when you reach your orgasm, but he simply could not get enough, he needed more and more from you, every drop, every moan

And he knew you were sensitive everywhere, so he obviously would take advantage of that, hard nipples that he'd love to brush his fingertips against, lips that would often be red and swollen from his kisses and the growing beard on his face, your neck that desperately craved for his love bites

He loved the way you wouldn't give in so easily, he loved your stubbornness, your unique way of having him in the palm of your hand

He also loved watching you do your goth makeup, always telling you how good you look in black, but deep down he loves watching you do it because he knows he'll be the one ruining it later that night, when you're crying from the overstimulation that his tongue is giving to you, and he could cum just by the feeling of your thighs squeezing his head as you desperately try to get away from his touch

He's a fucking mess if you have your nails painted in a dark color, specially black, he loves watching you play with yourself, how pretty your fingers look when they're circling around your clit, and mostly when they're wrapped around his throbbing dick after he spent god knows how long pleasing your body

#konig cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod smut #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig #könig mwii #könig cod #könig smut #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod x you

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emmyrosee · 11 months

Note

are u down 4 sum lil angst?? well, i'm just curious how would it be being the famous star volleyball player, Sakusa Kiyoomi's TOTGA?

YOU HAD N O RIGHT MATE

ok so fun emmy history, back when I was a wee child and before the miya twins were even a thing, i wrote a self insert that I’m still weirdly proud of today so congratulations, you scratched that memory HHEISBSOSN-

Hey! Future Emmy here. so... major tw; kiyoomi is very mean, extremely toxic, and i for sure went overboard, but there's a lot of blaming and yelling and just. ugh. this piece hurt my own heart smh.

But listen. You slipped into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s life surprisingly. He wasn’t expecting you or even just to date at all, you were just at the right places in the right times where he finally felt at ease in your presence. You just understood who he was beyond surface level, and he’d never had that in someone before.

You loved him before he was cool, before he was anyone other than a top ace in Japan. You were the first to tell him it was okay to mess up, do something other than eat drink and sleep volleyball, even if he wants it to take up most of his time.

Time, he no longer has, when he gets injured.

It wasn't like it was an inopportune time- though, as a college athlete, there really is no good time to get injured- if anything, it was spontaneous and had he not had dreams of making it big, he'd never think twice of it.

But he gets injured. Junior year of college, just as his name starts to grow in the industry, and he gets injured. Bad ankle, it’s actually a former injury from his childhood that apparently didn’t heal right.

There’s articles that spread about Bokuto Koutarou, how he’s climbing the ranks and how Miya Atsumu, the same little rat who bothered him in high school received an offer from god knows what team, and he’s fuming.

That should be him and his setter getting those offers and climbing that ladder, it’s been him and him alone for years, and he knows it's bitter to hate people for their successes, but its not fucking fair, he deserves more than this.

He deserves more than doctors trying to encourage surgery to heal at the sacrifice of volleyball, he deserves more than flowers and cards of best wishes, more than Miya Atsumu texting him to see if he's okay, he deserves more than any being on earth could give him.

And that includes you.

"Baby, did you finally call the surgeon?" You ask, coming in with a water bottle and a cup of his meds.

Apparently, that's more than enough to set him off.

"I don't need surgery."

He hears you sigh, "the doctor says the tear is too big just for physical therapy, you'll need the extra support-"

"In case you forgot, I was fucking there."

His breath becomes hot, and he can't peel his eyes from the commercials playing on the tv. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and of he could will himself to do it, he'd apologize and tell you he loves you, he's just tense and hurt, and he's grateful you're here, and-

"I'm the one who's life is going down the tubes. Fun fact."

The other thoughts in his mind are static. merely an incoherent buzz. You're his victim now, to his ugliest sides that therapy and his family prodded back years ago.

There's no one to prod it back now.

"I... I didn't mean any harm, I promise-"

"You really shouldn't talk to me right now," he snarls, rage bubbling and clawing away at his soul. There's a bubbling of tears that rip at his waterline in a demand to fall, but he's blinded to anything else.

He hates his life. He hates his ankle. He hates his doctors for telling him it may not heal right ever.

He hates you.

"Kiyoomi, please-"

He bears his teeth like a dog in an attack, and you flinch back slightly. "If you hadn't fucking distracted me, this never would've happened." He hears you whine in your throat.

he ignores it.

"I was fine," he barks. "I was happy before you. I was strong, I was powerful, I was a damned force to be reckoned with." He crawls closer to you on the couch, and when you cower to try and get away, he chases your body with his torso.

When you stand up, he does too. His leg lights every single nerve up in a blaze of agony, but he's too gone in his own rage to think about it.

"I... I know you're mad, but please, sit down Kiyoomi-"

You're right.

"Shut the hell up!"

Even on one foot, he towers over you threateningly. You bring your hands up to try and force distance between you both; your touch does ground him slightly, but not enough to stop his scorn.

You sniffle softly, clearly uncomfortable, "you're just mad... and that's okay. Please stop shouting at me, we can make this work, kiyoomi."

Now, his eyes are scalding with furious tears.

"I want this to work, oomi... please, stop shouting-"

“It doesn’t matter if you want it to work,” he snaps. “I’ve got a plan to stick to that’s already been screwed because of us, AND IT'S YOUR GODDAMNED FAULT!"

When you sob and crumple to your feet, there’s a small part of kiyoomi that comes to, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. He feels… confused, he doesn’t know where it came from inside of him, but the way your eyes water from his words snaps him back to reality.

“I’m… im ruining your plan?” You choke, and god kiyoomi wants the floor to engulf him whole. Because duh, of course now you’re not he’s just the scum of the earth, you’re all he can think of wanting in this shitty life, but he can’t say that, not when your hands cover your mouth in distress and horror, tears slipping over your fingers. He feels the blood leave his face when you take a step back, followed by another, then one as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait-“

“No, Kiyoomi,” you snap, and its his turn to feel your rage, your head whipping to look at him in betrayal. “No. I’m officially done waiting for you.”

And despite the fact that he wants to chase you, wants to gather you in his arms and pin you to the wall and demand you listen to him, listen to why his plan has changed and how you’ve completely ruined all of it in the best ways, he can’t. His leg throbs at the mere idea.

He just. Stands there, frozen for god knows how long, staring at the long slammed door, wondering if you’d come back for something you’d forgot in your exit. Something dumb, like a charger or a water bottle, something easily replaceable but you wanted from him just as a last chance makeup.

But you don’t. And once his good leg starts to cramp from standing there, he slowly moves his way to his bedroom.

And he’s fine. Honest!

Sitting by himself in the cold of night gives him more time to think about the future. The one without you, of course. Limping around the dorm on crutches makes his arms ache and knees weak, and the backpack on his shoulders making him fall forwards is plenty to make his elbows strengthen up (they’re withering away) and his breathing circulate (he’s breathing back tears of pain and frustration.)

He can’t… he can’t do this without you.

Call him selfish, but his life was not only easier with you around, it was better, it was fun to love you and have you scream his name from the stands, but now that seat is occupied by someone else when it should be yours and yours alone.

He’s tried to get over it. He’s tried to get everything in line, get you the hell out of his mind but he can’t.

You’re different. He hates you for it. There’s something about you that refused to leave his mind and soul. Every time someone is interested in him, he feels disgusted because every crush is based on appearances now; it never was with you. Every time someone laughs, his first thought is how much he misses yours. When one of those stupid fast food commercials comes on in the late hours of night, he smiles sadly as he remembers the way your eyes would meet his and you’d beg him for some fries at ungodly hours.

He has to move on. It’s been fucking years. Why hasn’t he moved on?

Any sane person by now would have moved on, passed through his heartbreak and try to find another, but he’s so emotionally unavailable at this point. Every thought and every reminder that plagues him continues to hit like a ton of bricks every time.

Maybe it's guilt.

No, its definitely guilt.

He loved you, more than you could imagine, he appreciated you more than he can express, and to show you how much you mean to him, he blamed you for his failures.

No wonder he deserves to be alone.

And just when his exhaustion can't grow, his self destruction and crumbling self worth can't get lower, he gets thrown in another circle of hell that he seems to find himself in; this time, in a coffee shop he frequents. Not too many familiar faces, just a couple blocks from the train, and up until that point, only having known him as an alias.

Until today, when the Gods decide to torture him a bit more.

“Name?”

“Sakusa,” he says, not even thinking as he scrolls on his phone. There’s a high pitched gasp from the girl, and it makes his eye twitch.

“NO WAY!!! Oh my gosh, you’re THE sakusa kiyoomi?! Oh my gosh, wait, hold on- can I get a picture? No, wait, you’re not into those- can I get an autograph? I knew you looked familiar, my sister and I watch you play all the time! I’m such a fan!-“

“Uh… thanks. Can I have my tea-“

The girl doesn’t answer, instead, she calls for her co-worker who barrels out in equal excitement.

On any normal day, kiyoomi would snap. He’d scold and snarl about how rude they were, how he’s still a fucking person who just so happens to be good at volleyball, but he’s like a deer in headlights. He’s too surprised at his own stupidity of not using his usual alias, how damn tired is he?

There’s a weight that feels like a ton of bricks that settles on his chest once he hears the line behind him complaining about how long it’s taking, then people behind the register flashing pictures that have him blinded and asking him questions he doesn’t want to answer, he just wants his tea for God’s sake and-

“HEY!” There’s a snap from someone at a table, and it breaks up the small, impromptu paparazzi at the front. “People are trying to work here, and not get a damn seizure from your damn pictures!” He feels all that anxiety break on his shoulders once they cower away. “And shame on you all!” They continue, the line slowly parting to let them continue shouting. “He may be famous but he’s still a damn person! Make the fucking drink and GO!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t want to look. Even if he’s eternally grateful for them, he knows that scold and he knows that bravery to call out random people for their shiftiness.

Because it’s the same thing you used to do all those years ago.

He winced and pulls the mask higher on his nose to keep himself concealed- as if he’s not a 190.5 cm monster. But you don’t say anything about anything that just happened, you must be deep in your work to not process just exactly who you were defending.

He gets his tea with a quick apology from the baristas, and he heads to the door to leave.

….

…right?

He’s gone. He’s on the bus, headphones in and heading to practice, audiobook putting him in a new world where his only current connection is the hot tea in his hands.

Right?

There’s always been a table on the bus, a table he rudely stalks up to, where you’re sitting and typing away furiously at your laptop and massaging one of your temples, too engrossed in your work to notice the outside hitter standing just in front of you.

“Uh…” he chews his lip nervously. You don’t look up.

This is the chance Komori’s been talking about. If he doesn’t take it, he’s going to hate himself forever.

“Thank you for standing up for me back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighs staggered, “can I… uhm… repay the favor?”

To his extreme relief, you offer him a small chuckle, “maybe you can recommend a coffee shop where random cele…” your voice drifts off when you look up at him, jaw frozen open and eyes wide and dancing all over his face. You’re both just staring at each other, breathing ragged and tense, and his brows furrowing to try and hide the guilt and absolute need he has for you to continue the conversation.

You clear your throat, “your uhm… your foot healed uh… well.”

He wants to, but can’t, fight the snort that sneaks past his lips because that’s about the last thing he thought you’d say. But he sees you crack a smile too, and it’s worth it.

“Yeah,” he says after he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m playing professionally now. Minor aches here and there, but nothing unusual.”

“So you got to stick with your plan,” you hum sadly, and his heart stops. “That’s wonderful, Sakusa. Im glad to hear it-“

“But my plan never felt complete,” he interrupts, and he sees your nostrils flare in annoyance. “I-I-I thought I knew what I wanted, but god, I didn’t. I don’t, I’ve always only wanted you.”

You offer him a shrug, “Kiyoomi, I was an intruder in your life; I can’t blame you for that, I shouldn’t have been there-“

“I wanted you there.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” you snip, and finally, he sighs in defeat. “You made it just fine without me in your plan.”

Fuck it.

If he’s here, he’s gonna lay all his cards, give you every last thought of his and leave you one more time to pick up your shattered pieces.

“I miss you.”

You freeze, but there’s a glazing of your waterline before you slowly, tensely, turn up to look at him.

“Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t do this, Sakusa.”

“I can’t help it,” he says, own voice twinging raw. "I hate it too. I hate that I've had to carry this weight with me for all these years, years I should've been with you, kept you safe and happy, and I couldn't even do that."

"You shattered what we had. Don't ever forget that."

"I never have been able to."

There's another silence surrounding you both, suffocating and hot and thick, and he gets flashbacks of a scenario not too dissimilar, where you're looking up at him with those same, betrayed eyes.

But your gaze doesn't last. It crumbles before you let out the breath you'd been holding, a sign that you're not going to waste your energy on him anymore, "you're too late, Kiyoomi. You don't get to miss me anymore."

When your hands shift to close your laptop, he sees it. The massive, heavy rock on your finger, glimmering under the soft lights of the coffee shop.

Kiyoomi feels sick. He could faint right now if his pride would let him. Instead, he swallows the bile in his throat and grits his teeth, giving you a smile and a casual scratch of the back of his head, "that's... that's awesome! I'm happy for you."

"Don't be," you smile sadly.

"Why?"

You shurg, "you don’t have to be happy for me. I’m happy for me. He's a friend of Bokuto-San's. Set us up not long after we broke up." Then, you sigh shakily, "I'm just here for work, I won't taint your coffee shops for much longer." It was an attempt to break up the heavy silence.

He could puke right now if he didn't feel completely defeated. He could strangle Bokuto in devastation.

In his younger, naïve efforts to drive you away, he drove you straight to someone else's arms.

He nods and chokes out a small "alright," before spinning on his heel away from you

He makes move to leave the coffee shop, but before he does, but before he can, he turns back to face you, trying to get one final look at you, soaking in your presence and soul before you vanish from his life forever. He calls your name, and you look at him one more time with that big, beautiful gaze.

"Do you believe in the one that got away?" he asks, and you process his answer before slipping your computer in your bag.

"Yeah. And I believe I'm yours- but you were too worried about losing volleyball. Now, I guess we all got what we wanted."

His veins turn icy as he tries to blink back the hot tears searing his waterline, turning his head to dodge your knowing eyes.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Except for his broken heart, of course.

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limarieb · 2 months

Text

currently thinking about reader, who’s notoriously grumpy and angry all the time, being tough around everyone except their girlfriend, wanda…

although you’re seemingly grumpy with everyone else, you never appear to have any complaints about her. (maybe you’re biased, though... or maybe she's just better than everyone else.)

your anger never manifested physically, though; you only ever fought with your words or actions, like the silent treatment or harsh glares. after years of therapy, you have gotten better at keeping your comments to yourself until you were in a safe place to vent them out. you used to write in a journal before wanda; however, now that she’s in your life, she has offered to be your sounding board for all of your issues because she knows how much it all truly affects you.

while she completely and utterly loves you for who you are (personality and issues included), there are some things that she tries to implement in your daily life in order to further help you with your irritability. for example, she introduced a system for creating healthy dialogue so you avoid getting too heated, either at someone else or when you're simply ranting to her, and saying or doing something you might regret. she also implemented a traffic light system in regard to your emotions and irritability levels: red meaning "don't want to talk" or "too pissed to speak," yellow meaning "i'm not very happy right now, and i want to get it off my chest," and green meaning "i'm doing okay at the moment."

after a few weeks of doing a trial run with the system, she also began to use it; not only with her own issues, but for setting a boundary for herself if she was not in the headspace to provide you the support you may have needed.) so far, these changes have truly worked wonders for maintaining a healthy relationship with wanda, promoting the necessary honesty and communication.

when you do decide to talk to her about something that was bothering you, she would always make the time to listen to all of your rants about everyone and everything being dumb and stupid, whether it be over text or in person. it wouldn’t be mere passive listening, either; she would actively listen to your voice and try to provide advice when needed. if she figures advice isn’t what you need in the moment, she’ll just affirm your feelings and cuddle with you until you calm down a bit.

and you just accept all of her affection — no questions asked. with wanda, you find you actively seek physical touch and words of affirmation, unlike in the past. the second she touches you, even in a non-sensual manner, you absolutely fold. she can't help but adore how soft you have become around her, and she's grateful you have grown comfortable enough with her to simply feel your feelings around her.

(and may the gods above forbid any of the team members mention your newfound softness with the witch, for then they must face the wrath of your anger and her protectiveness.

sam entered, discovering her cuddling you on the couch in the compound's living area one day and decided it was the funniest sight. so, he naturally made a joke about it, stating how she must be the one who "wears the pants in the relationship" despite the personality differences.

"you better start running," the only words that left the sokovian's lips, eyes turning scarlet red.

he scrambled away, and you simply snuggled her closer.)

one of the best dates she planned, in your humble opinion, was “stress-reliever” themed. you both were having a… not very good week, so she decided that the two of you would take the day off to focus on yourselves. she took you to a rage room, in which the two of you took turns smashing everything. afterwards, she drove you both to a secluded picnic area, where you both wrote your deepest woes and secret onto a plate and then smashed them into tiny pieces and proceeded to eat your feelings with all of your favorite foods, which she packed.

she has learned over the course of your relationship that your anger and irritability was a product of both your genetics and your family. not that it has bothered her, because truly it hasn't — you've been nothing but kind and loving toward her. although, wanda, with her inherent empathetic nature, can't help but feel upset sometimes that you had to endure all of that unhealthy hostility while growing up. she just internally hopes that she has helped heal some of your inner child, at least.

occasionally, you have doubts about yourself, thinking you, in all of your 'darkness' and rain-like moods, were not worthy enough to be dating someone like wanda, who you viewed as the practical embodiment of sunshine. she reaffirms the depth of her feelings for you (and all of your various rants) each time you begin to feel like this, stopping the negative thoughts before you begin to truly spiral. she also takes the time to remind you her life is not always ‘sunshine and rainbows,’ given her history in sokovia and then hydra; and, yet, you still love her the same — so why would it be different for you? (it's during times like these that you appreciate how your girlfriend is a literal witch.)

...

a/n: well, i promised, didn't i? enjoy this "little" drabble as a little treat since my interview for that graduate school program went well!

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb #limarieb wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff headcanons #drabble #wanda maximoff fluff

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anonymous-dentist · 8 months

Text

Or. The Among Us au.

Now, Cellbit thinks that there may be a problem when he wakes up one Tuesday morning to find tentacles bubbling out of his mouth. Because he’s reformed, see. He went to prison. He went to therapy. He did his time. He’s better now, and so, really, he should be human. He’s gotten very good at it.

But it’s also the morning after his arrival on the ISS Quesadilla, himself being one of five new crewmates sent by the Federation to explore the galaxy and look for… something. He doesn’t know what, exactly; he doesn’t have high enough clearance yet, and he never will if he doesn’t get his fucking tentacles-

On the bunk across from him, Mike groans and throws a lumpy pillow at him.

“Stop being an alien, God,” he groans. “Go back to sleep, our shift doesn’t start for another three hours.”

And, well. Cellbit can’t argue with that logic. He’s probably just nervous, that’s all. He’ll be back to looking like a human when he’s calmed down some.

Cellbit closes his eyes, lets out a long, artificial breath (aliens don’t need to breathe, after all), and he lets himself relax. It’ll be fine.

It isn’t fine. It’s five hours later and his tentacles are gone but his teeth have sharpened into four rows of fangs and it’s very hard to talk. Luckily, his helmet is covering up most of the nasty stuff. Luckily, almost everyone on his shift already knows he’s a secret alien except for Forever, and Forever seems smart enough not to snitch if he knows what’s good for him.

The problem is that Cellbit knows why he’s suddenly devolving. He knows exactly what’s going on, and he really doesn’t know how to feel about it. Because he was alone in the universe two days ago, and now his internal biology is registering the presence of another alien somewhere on the ship, and it’s horrifying.

Cellbit can’t concentrate like this. He keeps biting his lips when he tries to communicate with his team. The wires in the electrical panels aren’t making any sense all of a sudden. His hands are shaking too badly for him to be able to swipe his I.D. card. He explains it to his Federation supervisor as space sickness and Pac and Mike back him up, and he assures Cucurucho that he’ll be in working condition by the end of the week, he promises!

But then it’s lunch, and Cellbit is eating alone in his and Pac and Mike and Forever’s cabin because his mouth is a biological garbage disposal.

This sucks.

Cellbit picks at his food, unable to even digest it in the state he’s in. Aliens, unlike humans, can’t eat vegetables. They eat flesh. Any kind, but Cellbit grew up eating human flesh. But that was then, and this is now, and, now, Cellbit is looking at a tray of frozen space vegetables and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

Knock-knock!

Cellbit’s first, instinctual response is a hiss as he flinches. His jaw splits in half down the middle, fangs bared, but then he remembers, wait, humans don’t fucking do that.

So he forces his jaw shut with his hands and pulls on his helmet. Just in case.

“Hello?” he calls.

“Hola?” is what he gets in response, and his stomach clenches because this is a very human-sounding human. “You are Cellbit, right?”

Cellbit ponders. Then, “Yes. Why?”

“Okay, yes! So Cucurucho sent me to bring you to medical-”

Oh, God. A scan is the last thing that Cellbit needs right now.

So Cellbit immediately interjects. “No, no! I’m fine! I told them I’m fine!”

“Oh, you’re fine,” the human sarcastically says. “You’re wearing a helmet, culero, I can hear it from out here. Come on, man, the faster you do this, the faster it is over with.”

Well. He does have a point. Besides, Cellbit has fudged his way through plenty of scans before. This one will just be a little more difficult, that’s all.

Cellbit puts his lunch aside and he opens the door and he stops pretending to breathe. The other crewmate is also wearing a helmet, but, through it, Cellbit can see the most beautiful eyes in the galaxy.

Said eyes crinkle up in a smile as Cellbit steps outside into the hallway and closes the door behind him. The helmet’s visor only allows access to the eyes, but Cellbit has a feeling that this man’s face is just as captivating.

“Great!” the human cheerily says. “You don’t look dead, at least!”

He laughs, and Cellbit finds himself laughing along with him. It’s catchy. This is fine.

“Come on, you’re new, right?” the human asks. He turns around and starts down the hallway to the left towards… medical? “I’ll show you the way.”

Cellbit swallows a tentacly lump in his throat and follows, two exact steps behind.

“It’s always good to get new people,” the human says. “We lose a lot of crewmates.”

“I’ve heard,” Cellbit politely says. He bites his lip again and winces. Attempt seventeen of trying to will his teeth into their human forms, go!

It’s true, though. The Quesadilla goes through more crew members than any other ship in the Federation’s fleet. It’s probably why nobody in Cellbit’s group had actually been interviewed before they were hired. Amateurs…

“It’s crazy, man. They’re dropping like flies!” the human exclaims, hands gesturing wildly.

He turns his head back to look at Cellbit, crinkled eyes glittering.

“Good luck,” he says.

Cellbit smiles back. Thank goodness for his helmet, because he can feel his jaw begin to split apart again.

“Thank you,” he weakly says. At least his vocal cords are working… and at least he doesn’t actually need his mouth to speak. “Maybe we’ll even get to work together in the future.”

He hopes so. He hopes that he can find this other alien and try to work with them to get themselves (because he knows that the other alien has to be having the same problem as him right now) together. Then Cellbit can actually do his job, and then he might even get a promotion. One step closer to his goals, and one step closer to-

The human clicks his tongue. “Now, now, don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

He taps at a badge on his chest with a gloved finger.

“‘Roier’,” Cellbit reads.

“Uh-huh. I’m Cucurucho’s favorite.”

“I didn’t know that they could have favorites.”

The human- Roier- sniffs haughtily. “Yes, and I am one.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t ever work together,” Cellbit says.

He dares step closer until he and Roier are next to each other. They’re about the same height, he notices, though he can tell even through the bulky spacesuit that Roier is far more built than Cellbit has been since he was a teenager.

“I don’t know,” Roier replies, shrugging. “Maybe. Who knows? Cucurucho is picky, you know?”

Cellbit remembers the disdainful look send in his direction when he had failed his first card swipe. Yeah, he knows.

The conversation slows to a comfortable silence, mostly because Cellbit is tired of almost biting his own face off.

And then they’re at Medical.

Cellbit pauses outside the door. Roier rolls his eyes and yanks him in, announcing their presence with a loud, “Ay, Missa!”

The medical staff on shift, a tall human in a black spacesuit with his helmet off, screeches and tumbles out of his chair.

Cellbit bites back a laugh. Roier doesn’t bother even trying to stay professional. He even walks over to Missa’s crumpled form and kicks him lightly in the side.

“Roier…” Missa complains.

“Do your job, pendejo, Cucurucho sent us.”

At the mention of Cucurucho, Missa scrambles to his feet, pale. He picks up a clipboard off of his desk and moves to close and lock the door.

Cellbit shuffles awkwardly to the side. Okay, deep breaths…

“Space sickness,” Roier explains.

“But I’m fine, really,” Cellbit tries.

Missa shuts him down with a firm shake of the head.

“Strip,” he says.

And then he flushes a bright red and stammers, “I- I mean your suit! You can hang it in a locker!”

Clearly embarrassed, he points toward a line of lockers against the far wall.

Cellbit gulps. But he… strips, gloves first and then his suit. Last, his helmet, which really should’ve been done first, but…

Luckily, his face is mostly under control again. He doesn’t feel too inhuman as he adjusts his hair in the reflection of a nearby data screen. He may be about to receive a death sentence, but he can at least look good doing it.

He turns around and faces the scanner, blushing just ever so slightly as he hears Roier gasp to himself. If he was human, he wouldn’t have heard it, it’s so quiet. And so, since he’s supposed to be human, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Just step on up, and we’ll get you done,” Missa says. He smiles, trying.

Cellbit offers a closed-mouth smile back, not trusting himself to show teeth.

He steps onto the scanner and closes his eyes, desperately hoping that it comes up as human as the ones back on Earth did-

“Oh, shit,” he hears Missa say. “It isn’t- oh, shit!”

Of course.

“What is it?” Roier demands. “Tell me!”

“I need to call Cucurucho, Roier, call Cucuruch-”

He coughs and slumps to the floor and slides off of Cellbit’s sharpened tentacle before Cellbit even realizes that he had transformed.

Oh, fuck.

Panicked, Cellbit recalls his tentacle and flinches at the taste of blood, delicious and disgustingly familiar, and his eyes open instinctively but he can’t see, it’s all just a blur, and he backs off of the scanner and-

“Hey! Cellbit! It’s fine, okay?” he hears Roier say. His voice is distant, like a dream. But Cellbit latches onto it, anyway.

Two heavy hands settle on his shoulders. Cellbit hisses, eyes narrowing and jaw splitting and fangs emerging, but then-

“Calma,” Roier gently says. “Hold on. Let me show you something.”

Cellbit can’t move. Roier is letting go of him and reaching for his own helmet, still unremoved. And then he removes it, and Cellbit is so shocked that he can’t keep his tentacles from falling out of his mouth again.

Roier is beautiful. High cheekbones, freckles, smiling eyes, soft hair, and fangs the size of toothpicks forcing his mouth ajar.

“See?” Roier asks, and that’s when Cellbit realizes that he isn’t talking in any human language anymore. This is their language, one Cellbit thought he was the last living speaker of. “It’s fine, okay?”

He smiles, and it’s terrifying in its beauty.

Cellbit manages to suck his tentacles back up, and then he smiles back.

“I thought I was alone,” he says.

“How do you think I felt, huh? What are you doing here!”

Roier lightly punches Cellbit’s shoulder.

There aren’t any security cameras in the Quesadilla, Cellbit had made sure if that before signing up for the trip. And if he can’t trust another alien, then what’s the point of this biological homing device? Aliens stick together, that’s how it always has been. Well. Had. (It’s a little hard to stick together when you’re all dead.)

So he doesn’t hesitate at all before saying, “My best friend is on board this ship. He was kidnapped.”

Roier’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit! Is he-”

“He’s human.”

“Oh.”

It’s just the two of them.

“Okay,” Roier says. “So now there’s two of us.”

“Yes. And it’s a little inconvenient having to deal with the, uh…”

Cellbit glances towards Roier’s fangs. Are they sharper than his? God.

Roier shrugs. “Eh, it’ll be fine. We just keep our helmets on until our bodies decide to calm down.”

Well, he isn’t at all concerned. He should be. He absolutely should be. But… there have been a lot of disappearances on the ship.

Roier, it seems, is very good at playing human.

Cellbit lets out an excited, nervous breath. He glances at Missa’s corpse, surprise and fear still written on his face.

“We need to report this,” Cellbit says.

Roier raises an eyebrow. “Por qué? Why? He is dead.”

“Yes, and it’ll look worse if we don’t tell anyone.”

This, Cellbit is more than used to. He may be reformed, but he had a very long time to hone his craft.

Slowly calming down, Cellbit goes to start pulling his suit back on. He even manages to get his fangs to shift. Okay.

“Okay,” Roier agrees. “If anybody asks, we were coming in here for sex.”

Cellbit’s face splits open in shock.

Roier cackles, and Cellbit can only wonder if this is truly what fate has brought to him.

#spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp fic #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#fucking among us au ig #guys I did it

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prettyprettypaci2 · 5 months

Text

Therapy - Part 6

💕 Part 1 💕 Part 2 💕 Part 3 💕 Part 4 💕 Part 5 💕

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much!"

Your heart is racing and you're panting frantically like a puppy. Beads of drool form at the corners of your mouth and you bite your lower lip as your body is overwhelmed with ecstasy. You need more. You'll beg Miss Heather for more. She has to keep going. You've been so good...

"Please..." You whine. "Just one more time..."

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Miss Heather chuckles, leveling her chin and smiling mischievously.

"I'll do anything..." You plead.

Miss Heather considers you with serious eyes, though she doesn't break her smile. You can tell you've won. Your therapist may know how to twist every dial in your mind, but you've learned how to twist a few of hers.

"Okay," she says slowly, opening her bag and reaching inside. "But you can't tell your step-mom. Get me a waffle cone."

You grab the money Miss Heather hands you and race back over to the ice cream truck parked about fifty feet from your picnic table. Your eyes dart across the landscape of colors and textures in the refrigerated trolley, ensnaring you in a dream state. Your pupils are as big as saucers, soaking in the strawberry reds, the minty greens, the enticing purple swirls. You hadn't had ice cream -- or really any appetizing food -- since your step-mom and step-sisters forced you into diapers. You're lucky when you get to eat graham crackers and applesauce.

You settle on a large double-scoop of fudge brownie supreme. Dutifully palming Miss Heather's waffle cone of decadent lemon torte, you thank the uneasy man at the counter and are practically skipping back to your table at the park, both treats in hand. You're used to people looking at you a little funny when you're out and about. They see an adult wearing long sausage curls topped with a pink hairbow the size of a milk bottle. They watch you romp around in furry boots and thick wool socks pulled up to your knees. And of course, they notice your denim dress isn't quite long enough to cover the crinkly companion on your bum.

As you pass a table of young women your age, you overhear them sniggering. A caustic voice says "Oh, look at the ice creams; brown and yellow, just like the diapers!" Your jubilant skipping fumbles into an awkward waddle, and you almost fall over. In your moment of distraction, the tower of brown fudge ice cream tips towards you and smushes into the front of your denim dress. You gasp at the cold, gooey sensation on your chest, and let the cone slip from your hands. It lands in the grass between your furry boots.

"Whoops! Baby had a blowout," a different woman teases, and the table erupts in laughter. You look down at the thick brown smudge on your dress and feel your face get hot. The joy that was bubbling up inside you seems to drain out of your body, literally, as your sagging diaper expands beneath your hips. You've started to pee.

"Oh my GOD!"

"Is this HAPPENING right now?"

"Do we, like, call the cops or something?"

You feel frozen in time and space. The voices are different, but when you close your eyes, the taunting words become those of your step-sisters, Lauren and Olivia. It's all their fault. If they hadn't tormented you...if they hadn't faked your accidents...you wouldn't be having a real one right here in the middle of the park. You wouldn't be wearing this ridiculous hairbow or this dress or...this stupid diaper.

Your gush of pee slows to a tepid trickle, and you reflexively push your thighs together to feel the new girth of your mushy padding. At least you won't leak. You flash back to when Lauren and Olivia had forced you to keep wetting your diaper until it swelled beyond capacity, and you piddled on the carpet like a scared puppy.

MY diapers are soft.

You remember your step-mom locking the bathroom door at night, since that was the only way to keep you from trying to take your diaper off.

MY diapers are convenient.

You remember being grabbed by the pigtails and having your face shoved in your diaper pail, gagging from the acrid odor of your own making.

MY diapers smell so sweet.

You don't remember how you got back to the picnic table where Miss Heather was waiting for you. You must have handed her the yellow waffle cone you had managed to hang onto, because you see it in her hands. It feels like the last minute of your memory simply erased itself. You look forlornly at the grass.

"I've got some stain remover in my desk," Miss Heather says sympathetically. "Always good for emergencies. We'll have you good as new when we get back to the office."

You look up at Miss Heather with glistening, tearful eyes. "I think I need to be punished."

Miss Heather mouths a silent 'oh' and smiles sadly. "It was just an accident. There's no need to worry."

You smother your face with your hand, sweeping aside a bouncy sausage curl. "No, I mean...I wanted to take my diaper off. I still want to take my diaper off. That's against the rules. You should spank me."

Miss Heather reaches over and takes your hand off your face. She folds her fingers over your palm and grips it tightly.

"You're such a brave, brave person," she says. Her voice is comforting and genuine. "I've never known anyone like you. You try so hard to learn and grow. You appreciate the majesty of simple things. You're going to make someone very happy someday."

"Do I make you happy?" The question comes out of your mouth, but it's as if it were someone else's thought. It was so bold and unplanned, you hardly believe you said it. Miss Heather is caught off-guard and you feel her grip on your hand loosen a bit. You don't let go.

"You...I mean...I think I should drive you back soon. We don't want Mr. Kazoo to worry, do we? Why don't you have my ice cream in the car?" You've never heard Miss Heather sound anxious before.

You shift around a bit, feeling your diaper squish against the hard seat of the picnic table. The spring air is already making it cold and clammy against your skin. "I think I need a diaper change before my spanking," you reply matter-of-factly.

Butterflies flood your tummy as Miss Heather's grip on your hand reasserts itself. Whatever vulnerability was there disappears as you remind her why you need her. Why she needs you to need her. You feel safe. She's in charge again.

Miss Heather reaches into her bag and pulls out your giant pink pacifier. Your mouth falls open the moment it appears in her hand. You lick your lips before she slides the rubber nipple between them, pushing it deeply inside you. Your tongue laps at the familiar fullness, and you suckle calmly. Miss Heather hands you the ice cream cone and guides you to your feet, lightly smacking the back of your drooping diaper. You squirm, and feel the butterflies soar.

"Get in the car. Back seat. Now."

🦋🦋🦋

💕 Part 7 and Epilogue 💕

#ab dl diaper #ab dl lifestyle #ab dl mommy #diaper pee #diaper sissy #diaper training #diaper dependent #unpotty training #ab/dl community #diaper bulge #diaper gal #diapered247

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