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#and someone who's shown me way more love than i feel i deserve
sweet-as-an-angel · 7 months
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MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend
Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.
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Ghost
Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.
You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.
He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.
It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.
There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.
More on this later 👀.
He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.
Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.
Expect a lot of praise in bed.
Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.
Other times, he’s not so gentle.
Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.
His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.
“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”
He’s very protective of you.
He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.
Scary dog privileges.
Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.
That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.
He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.
As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.
However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.
And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.
“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”
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König
Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.
But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.
He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.
When he feels like it.
He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.
Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.
You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.
Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.
Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.
He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.
Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.
A little bit silly.
And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.
Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.
One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.
He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.
Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.
Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.
It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.
Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.
“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.
“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”
His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.
“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.
“Inch by bloody inch.”
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Valeria
You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.
That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.
Sexual or otherwise.
She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.
Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.
In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.
“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.
“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”
She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.
She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.
Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.
Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.
Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.
Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.
You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”
You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.
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Price
He’s so father-coded fr.
He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.
Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.
John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.
Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.
The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.
When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.
A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.
On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.
E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.
He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”
“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.
“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.
“And all mine.”
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Horangi
You’re the only thing that matters to him.
At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.
Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).
His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.
In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.
You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.
You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.
Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.
Unless you push him too far.
At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.
He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.
“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”
He never fails in the aftercare department, though.
Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.
Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.
A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.
Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.
Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.
Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.
“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”
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Alejandro
Pre-established passionate lover.
One who is fiercely protective over you.
If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.
He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.
You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.
He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.
A thorough lover is how you might describe him.
Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.
You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.
Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.
Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.
He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.
“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.
Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”
Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.
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Rodolfo
His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.
As he should.
You want it ? You got it. 
In abundance.
You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.
That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.
He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.
Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.
Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”
Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.
It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.
“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.
“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.
“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”
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Graves
This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.
Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.
He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.
E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.
“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”
He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.
He never expects anything from you in return.
He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.
Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.
Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.
On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.
He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.
“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”
On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.
#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.
He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.
“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.
Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.
“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost
AO3 Wattpad
17K notes · View notes
teamatsumu · 4 months
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L&DS BOYS - LOVE LANGUAGES
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content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, sfw headcanons
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XAVIER - PHYSICAL TOUCH
Xavier knows he is smart, and witty enough. But when things get a little too real, he finds it hard to express himself.
And the feelings he has for you are the most genuine ones he has felt in his long, long life.
While he might not be someone who can wax poetic about his affection for you, he shows it in other ways, and physical touch in his favorite way to get his feelings across.
When you walk next to each other, he sticks close, arm brushing against yours. Occasionally, the back of his hand makes contact with your own. It's almost as if the tension builds and builds, until he finally connects your fingers, either intertwining your hands together or linking his pinkie with yours. No words leave his mouth. His touch says enough.
If the train is too crowded, he will pull you closer to him with a firm touch on the small of your back, making sure you don’t receive any unwanted bumps from strangers.
For a few weeks in your relationship, he developed a strange habit of pinching your cheeks and lightly pulling on them. You let him do it, knowing he would eventually move on and find some other part of you to focus on. Though the action did make your face heat up.
Another weird hyperfixation he has is nibbling at your fingertips absentmindedly. He plays with them often, but when he is distracted by a movie you two are watching, he will bite at them every so often. Sometimes, he is so focused on the screen that you doubt he even realizes what he is doing.
(He realizes. He just thinks every part of you deserves love. Don’t question it. It makes sense in his head.)
Cuddling with him is the perfect gift for your senses, stimulating you wonderfully.
Small nips on your skin, little lingering touches. He traces your skin with eager yet gentle hands, as if trying to memorize every curve and dip.
He buries his face in your neck and breathes in deep, and in that moment, bodies tangled with each other and the sheets, vulnerable and open, he will whisper, “I love you”.
It’s an affirmation more than a revelation, since his actions up until this point have all shown you that he really, truly does love you. So you whisper it back, trying to pour all your love into it, before slotting your lips together and using physical touch to convey your feelings right back.
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RAFAYEL - WORDS OF AFFIRMATION
Rafayel is, in the simplest of terms, a yapper.
This man could talk for hours if you don’t stop him. About his art, about the meaning of life, about his experiences. He can express so much while also having an impeccable talent of being completely vague. Sometimes, you don’t even understand the things he says. And you’ve given up trying to decipher his every word.
But when Rafayel is talking about you, he makes himself abundantly clear. There’s no ambiguity about it; he loves you. And he will say it a million different times in a million different ways. Whether it be a bold declaration of how much his heart yearns for you, or endless teasing that is meant to rile you up and get a reaction out of you.
“I don’t think your talent lies in art, babe. It’s a good thing you’re a walking art piece yourself. No wonder I’m in love with you.”
“You’re leaving so soon? But I don’t think I’ve admired you enough for today. Don’t leave me!”
I’m impressed, Miss Bodyguard. You’re talented, and easy on the eyes. No wonder you captivated me from that very first day we met.”
Expect to wake up with a lot of voice notes on your phone. Minutes long. Sometimes rambling, sometimes actual ideas for new pieces that he wants to run by you. You better reply to all of them individually.
When you cuddle at night, you can talk for hours. No topic on earth is off limits with him. He will lay you down on a blanket on the beach, and as you watch the stars, he will tell you stories from olden times about star crossed lovers and tragic fairy tales. And he will turn to you, tell you how beautiful you are, how ardently he loves you, how he will never forget any moment he spends with you.
It’s almost like you can tell the exact moment he falls in love with you. Because he tells you. He never stops telling you. He voices his fears of you leaving him, he makes you promise you will never go away. He is clingy and he is whiny, and he is so endearing.
It’s hard to dismiss him when he is so loud about his love. And it’s hard to not fall for him just as he falls for you.
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ZAYNE - ACTS OF SERVICE
This is an indisputable fact. Dr Zayne shows his love through acts of service.
He is intensely aware of your needs, and is miles ahead of you in determining what you require at any given moment.
It’s his way of showing you that he cares. He worries for you, and born from that worry is the urge to take care of you.
If you have had a long day, you will come home to a text from him saying he has ordered takeout and it will arrive at your house shortly, since he knows you are too exhausted to cook anything. It is always something different, but it is always food that he knows you enjoy. He will mix it with some healthy options too.
If you ever crash at his place, you will wake up to a tall glass of water and two aspirin on the side table, along with a note in his neat handwriting telling you that there is fresh cooked breakfast in the oven (he made it before he left for work).
Once you two are in a steady relationship, he keeps his house stocked with products you use. A spare shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, a bathrobe of your size, a hair brush, you name it.
When you mumble something about the hand cream in your purse that is nearly running out, you will find a brand new tube next time you open the purse, and there is no need to even ask. You know Zayne put it there.
He is intensely observant. Even after knowing him for so long, it catches you off guard. He knows which of your clothes need to be dry cleaned and which ones are good for the washing machine. He knows which scents you use. Which products are harsher on your skin. He knows that contacts irritate your eyes after long hours of wearing them, so he keeps a small bottle of eye drops in your side table for that very purpose.
He scolds you for neglecting yourself, and he won’t hold back the harsh tone if he thinks your behavior is particularly destructive. To him, the best way to show love is to make sure your beloved is living the best life they can.
It is the littlest things, the tiniest details. And it shocks you, even after so long.
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2K notes · View notes
hihomeghere · 2 months
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megan, darling sunshine, i have the softest of soft requests for you with our favorite cowboy. 🥺
can i request #6, #34, #36, #41, #83 with arthur? i desperately need protective, soon-to-be dad!arthur in my life. it's what we all deserve, honestly. 🤍
thank you so much! i can't wait to see what absolute magic you make with these prompts.
Deserving | Arthur Morgan / Reader
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First off let me give you the fattest smooch <3
Word Count : 1.9k Prompts : 6. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear. 34. I think you're showing. 36. You're glowing. 41. The baby loves hearing you sing/speak. 83. Was that a kick? Warnings/tags : Cursing, talk of abandonment, Reader is 5 months pregnant, Arthur deserves a second chance at being a father, Self degrading talk on Arthur's part, Switch POV.
Arthur was aware it was a tad foolish the way he was feeling. Although seeing you growing his child has awakened something that had been lying dormant in him. Something that he hardly understood himself. A primal feeling, knowing that he was the one who made you like this. That it was his seed that had made you grow swollen and round and so damn gorgeous. 
He was also painfully aware of the gold ring in his pocket, his nerves eating him from the inside out. He had never been so nervous in his entire life, more nervous than when he went on his first job. Unlike a job he had never felt more unprepared. He had always wanted children, and he had dreamed of having children with you. But Jesus, he was terrified he would turn out like his old man. He didn’t- no - he couldn’t mess up this time. Not with you. Yes, he loved you. God he loved you more than anything. Arthur did not necessarily believe in soulmates. Perhaps when he was younger he could have believed that his soul could be tied to another person, but he wasn’t that foolish anymore. Love was something you worked for, it wasn't predestined by whatever god was above. He knew you could easily find another man to love you, even with the babe. He also knew you deserved someone better than him. You deserved the world, deserved someone who would build you a home, someone who hadn’t been too damn chicken to ask you to marry him before knocking you up. But he also knew that no man could love you like he loved you.
“You’re staring Arthur.” You chuckled, raising a brow as you turned to face him. Your hand resting on your hip as you leaned on the boar skinned table.
“You’re glowing.” He said softly, not denying the fact that he had indeed been staring at you. How could he not? You were really glowing, he hadn’t known that that silly saying about pregnant women was the truth. You were like some angel, the glow coming from within, lighting up the small tent. If he squinted he swore he could see a halo around your head. Especially when your bump had finally shown itself. 
You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you went back to whatever task you were working on. He walked up behind you, his deft fingers working on removing his gun belt. Laying belt down on the table before pulling you against his chest.
His hands lovingly squeezed your hips, before moving to your stomach. He sighed contently, laying his head in the crook of your neck. Breathing in your sweet smell, his calloused hands running over the soft fabric of your skirt. His heart nearly stopped as he felt the swell of your abdomen. Nearly brought to his knees by such a small thing. Well it wasn’t exactly small anymore, you had finally ‘popped’. 
“‘Think you’re showing, sunshine.” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear as he swayed with you in his arms. You giggled, shying away from his lips as they brushed against your neck.
“I would say so, can’t fit in my damn pants anymore.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued to patch a hole in one of his shirts. 
In all honesty, you hadn’t been able to fit in your pants for a long time. It had been almost four months since the fateful day you told Arthur you were pregnant.
-
You had all the telltale signs, breast tenderness, food aversions, etc. Along with Abigail’s damn knowing glances, and then your monthly cycle had been absent, confirming your suspicions. You had nearly gone mad, a million thoughts running through your head. How were you supposed to care for a child with the lifestyle you had? You had briefly discussed children with Arthur, but it was always in the future. When you weren’t being chased by the law or Pinkertons or whoever. You didn’t want your child to be raised how either of you were raised. Always on the run, never having a true safe place to call home. Speaking of the future, marriage had always been a talk for the future as well. Now you were here, an unwed mother. 
And then there was Isaac and Eliza. That was a whole new can of worms to throw into the mix. Would he even want to have a child right now? Would he still want you after he found out? If he left you what would you do?
You would manage, that’s what you always did. But you didn’t want to go through this without him. 
He had found you pacing near camp, nearly chewing your lip off. His heart constricted in his chest as he watched you.
“Everything alright darlin’?” He asked, pulling you out of your downward spiral. A similar concerned expression on his face as he took you in. You met his bright blue eyes and instantly you fell apart. Tears welled up in your eyes as he rushed over to you. Taking long strides across the grass before pulling you into his broad chest. His calloused hands warm and loving as they rubbed up and down your back, your body shaking with sobs you couldn’t control. “Darlin’ you’re scaring me.” He said softly, laying his chin on the top of your head. “Talk to me sunshine.”
“Arthur I think-“ You let out a shaky breath, “I think I’m pregnant.” You cried, tears clouding your vision as you looked up at him. 
He was frozen, his brain short circuiting as he tried to process the words you had just said. He must have heard you wrong. 
“What… what did ya say darlin’?” He asked, his hands on your biceps as he held you in front of him. His brows furrowed and his lips drawn into a thin line. 
“I’m pregnant Arthur.” You said, your lip trembling as you waited for his response. You were trembling in his grasp, your heart pounding against your rib cage. 
“Okay.” He nodded slowly, still trying to wrap his head around it all. Goddamn it Morgan, you’ve gone done it again. Are you seriously the most foolish man alive? His thoughts spiraled into their usual degrading speech. Here you were shaking in his arms like a damn leaf and he was too damn stupid to say anything. Say something, anything, to stop her from crying. Your tears tugging on his heart strings. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He cooed, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry, please.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“M’sorry-” You sobbed, looking down.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize for this.” He said holding your face, “If anyone ought to apologize, it should be me.” He said, shaking his head. You bit your lip, looking up at him.
“Arthur, what are we gonna do?” You asked, finally calmed down enough to speak a coherent sentence. He clenched his jaw, looking off to the side.
“Do you want this?” He asked softly, running his hand down your arm. Taking your significantly smaller hands in his, squeezing them gently.
“I-“ You sighed, letting out a long breath. “I think I do.” You nodded, hesitantly raising your head to look at him. He exhaled a breath of relief. 
“Okay.” He nodded, “I want this too.” He said, giving you a reassuring smile. You couldn’t help but let out an equally relieved breath, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“Yeah?” You asked, chuckling breathlessly. 
“Yeah.” He nodded, chuckling along with you. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you, you or the baby, I swear.” He said gently pulling you closer, his hand moving down to caress your stomach. 
-
You smiled at the memory as Arthur rubbed his hand over your bump.
“They movin’ any?” He asked, kissing your cheek.
“They have been most of the day.” You chuckled, following his lips with your cheek as he pulled away. You turned around in his grasp, laying your hands on his chest. “They’d probably move if you talked to them. You know how the baby loves hearing you talk.” You said, smiling up at him. He grinned, his eyes sparkling with pride.
 He knelt down, feeling his mothers ring slide lower into his pocket. As he knelt face to face with your round belly, he couldn’t have been more thankful that Mary had returned his ring. That things hadn’t worked out between them, because if they did, he would have missed this. 
He pressed his lips against your belly in a chaste kiss, before chuckling softly to himself. “Hey there kid.” He said, his grin growing if that was even possible. “Ya bein’ good for ya mama?” He asked, running his hand over the tight skin. He felt a small kick under his palm, looking up at you for confirmation that it wasn’t a part of his imagination. “Was that a kick?”
“Sure was.” You chuckled, laying your hand over his. He chuckled, shaking his head as he stared at your belly. There had been too many nights lying next to you on his small cot, twirling the ring in his fingers. Just trying to work up the courage to ask you. Even before your belly started to swell he had dreamed of asking you. He just wanted everything to be perfect, although in hindsight it was a foolish thought. Things would never be perfect, that was the thing wasn’t it?
Now was the time. He knew it, kneeling here in front of you, but how was he gonna ask? How was he gonna get past the lump in his throat?
“Hey kiddo, ya think I could have a moment with your mama here?” He asked, a nervous smile on his lips as he looked up at you. “I got a question for her.” It was now or never. He reached into his pocket, his sweaty fingers grasping the small gold ring. He took in a deep breath before finding your gaze, holding out the ring to you. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, tears pricking your eyes.
“This… well this ain’t how I imagined this. I wanted to do something special for ya and I should’ve done this a long time ago. I promised ya when we found out about the kid I wouldn’t let anything happen to ya. I mean to keep that promise. There are men more deserving of you, hell I’m probably the least deserving-“ You scoffed shaking your head, “But none of those men could ever love you the way I do. So, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He asked, gingerly holding your left hand. 
“Yes, yes!” You cried, grinning as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He let out a breath of relief, getting to his feet. You threw yourself into his arms, laughing as tears slipped down your cheeks. 
“It’s uh- I know it’s nothing fancy but-“ He said softly, “It was my mothers and I know she’d want ya to have it.”
“It’s perfect.” You said, pulling away to admire the ruby ring. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You chuckled, wiping away your tears as you admired the ring. Arthur’s heart warmed at your words. He would never know what he had done to deserve someone like you, you and the baby. Although he may not have said his vows at that moment, he made a silent one in his heart. As long as his heart was beating, and there was still breath in his lungs, nothing would ever happen to either of you.
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strawberrystepmom · 5 months
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pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader
word count: 3.6k
about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.
contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).
notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!
header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡
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“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”
How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner? 
“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.” 
You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.
He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.
For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips. 
“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.
God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.
The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.
“I know more about both of you than you think.” 
Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.
Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.
“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.
“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”
Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.
You do not fight him off.
“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”
He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.
“Nothing to say for yourself?”
Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.
“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.
“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.
The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.
It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.
It isn’t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…
Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar. 
“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”
This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.
“What do you mean?”
A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.
“Interesting.” 
His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you. 
“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.
Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.
“Suguru.”
You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.
“Kenjaku, actually.” 
He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.
Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing. 
Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.
“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.
His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.
“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”
Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.
Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.
Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.
You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock. 
When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.
“You’re so impatient.” 
The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked. 
“As good as you imagined?”
Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel. 
It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel. 
Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him? 
You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.
“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”
Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length. 
His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip. 
You like this. You want this.
He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.
Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.
“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth. 
You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.
“Kill me.”
Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below. 
“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.” 
Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.
Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.
The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.
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katszumi · 5 months
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"but, isn't it a blessing to have someone care about you?" your voice was soft but your words weighed heavy on bakugou's heart.
it was nearly ten o'clock. due to your rampant text messages you sent to bakugou ten minutes ago, he stayed up past his normal bedtime in order to figure out what exactly was your issue tonight.
you were rested on the bench that was outside of u.a while bakugou was reclined on the bench, his legs sprawled out in front of him. there was a mere sprinkle that surrounded the area around them, a slight breeze also forcing you two to sit closer together to bask in each other's warmth.
bakugou was unsure what to reply with. where did your random outburst even come from. what did you really want him to say?
bakugou didn't particularly understand love and he damn sure didn't know how to express it. maybe that's why he was okay with it at first— you deserved to be with someone that could make you happy. he knew that he wouldn't be able to live up to your standards. he lacked all the aspects for a healthy relationship.
but when you got together with that stupid guy you met at a coffee shop eight months ago, he felt like an idiot for not pursing you. he noticed all of your tired eyes, insecure smiles, and passive behavior. it was only then when bakugou realized he could’ve done so much better than he thought.
you took his silence as an opportunity to continue. "someone who worries about your happiness and wants to always be by your side?"
yes. bakugou wanted to scream. yes, you fucking idiot. were the words that burned his throat. why couldn't it come out when he so desperately wanted it to?
did you decide to be blind of his feelings towards you? bakugou had thought he'd shown you that he'd go to hell and back for you, but still, you couldn't discern the fact that he was so infatuated with you? he was so in love with you that he would wait for you at the bottom no matter how long it took.
he hated this feeling. why did it have to be you that caught his eye? the only girl he was drawn to, no matter how many times he tried to escape your aura, the path always lead back to you.
he doesn't know why he would sit with you while you ranted about your relationship problems. maybe it was because he didn't want it to be anyone else other than him or because he cared about your well-being most of all. maybe it was both.
either way, he fucked hated it. why couldn't it be the other way around? why couldn't he be the one on the receiving end of your love? bakugou knew for sure he wouldn't do half of the shitty things that your lover would do. he hated that you stayed with worthless dick-face of a man you call your boyfriend. did you not know that with your personality and beauty that you could find someone that was worth millions?
"you know... i like to think someone cares for me that way." bakugou didn't have to look at you to tell there were tears prickling your eyes. water threatening to spill out. it was a usual thing whenever you'd ask him to lend a ear to your venting sessions. he wanted nothing more than to grab your face and kiss your tears away.
bakugou didn't understand love. not in the slightest. but bakugou understood regret. and his biggest regret came in the form of you. if only bakugou had enough courage to tell he that he loved you years ago when you two first met, then he would be the person on the receiving end. he would be the guy who would always be by your side. to be the guy who truly cares about you.
for however long you stayed with that asshole of a boyfriend, bakugou was aware his chance with you was as close to zero.
and he was fine with that.
because even though it pained him to hear you talk about another guy, bakugou would rather have some of you than none of you. he didn’t mind having to swallow his feelings that tugged at his heart if it meant you were happy.
he dryly laughed. "there is," his eyes suddenly finding comfort in the wet cement below them. "just someone who fuckin' sucks at showing it."
bakugou didn’t just not understand love. he hated it. he despised love because it always fell into the hands of the wrong person.
-
yes the quote is from fruits basket, i couldnt help it.
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lovelyverosika · 4 months
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I keep thinking about his angel eyes
Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader
Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2
Warnings: talk about self hate
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A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.
Y/N POV:
I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.
The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.
Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.
Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.
Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.
Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.
In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."
My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.
Part 4
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sc0tters · 4 months
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Long Time Coming | Jeremy Swayman
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summary: you’ve been in love with each other for years, so surely you guys have picked up on it by now
request: yes/no
warnings: mild swearing?
word count: 2.21k
authors note: this is my first time writing for any of the bruins players and I have to say that this is really one of my favourites that I have written in a while. This is the softness we all deserved before I get to something a little more fiery tomorrow for valentines day!
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It was a friendship that was never meant to work. 
Jeremy was a popular hockey player and you were a journalism major who preferred spending her time in the library as opposed to the dorms. You swore that the hockey team on campus was bound to all be irritating but when you ended up in a class with Jeremy. Surprised to say that you were paired up with a hockey player for your pottery course was an understatement. 
But three weeks in to your first semester and you found your random elective quickly becoming your favorite class. The goalie made you feel alive as he brought this spark to your life. His teammates started seeing less of him at parties and they were confused until they finally met you. 
Jeremy spent weeks convincing you to finally come to his game. Of course the tale went that when you showed up it was his first shut out game of his college career. Even as the crowd chanted his name, all he wanted was to look for you. It was like clockwork when the boys saw Jeremy lock eyes with you. 
That was the first time that the boys realized Jeremy was in love. The way he spun you around, gushing about how you were his lucky charm. It was also the night that seemed to be the turning point in your relationship with Jeremy. He was no longer your classmate, he was your friend and soon to be your best friend. 
Years had gone by, Jeremy had made his way to the NHL and you had finally graduated. It was funny how you had grown attached to each other, like the moment you left college you were in Boston. Jeremy had you in the guest bedroom of his apartment which made life tougher than ever. 
It was Valentine’s Day and you ended up in his dorm after he revealed that his girlfriend was cheating on him. 
Jeremy swore you had never shown up as fast as you did there. The boy didn’t even time to fully open his door before you were in his arms  “hey Jer.” You sighed as his body clung to yours “she left me.” Jeremy sobbed as tears streamed down his cheeks. 
You rubbed his back desperate to ease his pain “you are better without her.” You mumbled kissing his shoulder as you raked your fingers through his hair “you know I’m not.” Jeremy had spoken to you of how he loved her like she was his world. 
The boy huffed into your neck “I brought everything we need tonight.” Your words made him furrow his eyebrows as he pulled away from you “for what?” Jeremy saw the plastic bag in your hand that had a mixed bunch of goods. 
You took the opportunity to walk into his room as you shut the door behind you “because we are going to eat our feelings away tonight.” You smiled pulling out two tubs of ice cream knowing that neither one of you were about to share. 
Jeremy couldn’t help but smile as he ran his fingers over his jaw “I can’t ask you to stay with me on Valentine’s Day.” He shook his head as it made your lips curl upright “then it’s a good thing that I’m insisting.” You shot back as you held the pint out in his direction. 
It was your kindness that Jeremy first fell in love with. The way you would think about giving someone the shirt off of your back if it could help them. Jeremy felt his heart grow full at the way you were always in the TD Garden with young fans helping them get his attention during warm ups and at the end of games. 
He had grown so comfortable with you and maybe that was his fault. Everyone treated you like you were his girlfriend because you were his partner. You might not have been his romantically but in life you were clearly his. 
That’s why it was so surprising to see you in your room getting ready for a date “you look nice.” Jeremy let his bag drop to the floor as he had come home from practice “thank you.” You smiled plumping your lips together as it coated your lipstick around your lips. 
The hockey player had to admit that he was confused as he leaned against the wall “do you think that he will like it?” You asked as you did a little spin letting him see your outfit in full. It was a blue dress that looked perfect on your skin as the springtime came in “you look perfect.” Jeremy nodded as he felt his chest pang “he?” The boy repeated your words as he froze. 
Watching you grab your phone from your table you rolled your eyes “remember when I told you I was going out with Taylor for lunch.” You motioned to the calendar that had the date and time that you were meant to see him “I didn’t know that Taylor was a dude!” Jeremy’s words brought a scoff to your lips as you crossed your arms. 
He was quick to mentally curse himself as he saw you furrow your eyebrows “why does the gender of my date matter to you?” You cocked your head pressing your finger against his chest “because.” It seemed that in that moment all Jeremy wanted was to tell you that he loved you yet he had all but forgotten how to talk. 
Your foot tapped against the wooden flooring as you awaited an answer “you want to give me an answer?” You watched him practically crawl back into himself as he sighed “have a nice night Jeremy.” He gasped at the feeling of your shoulder hitting his as you walked straight to the front door not giving him a chance to talk.
Jeremy was left wallowing in his emotions as he stared at the different pictures of you two that lived in his phone. The time he surprised you by making it to your graduation, the time you were there for his NHL debut. Even the picture of you two at one of his teammates weddings when Jeremy was caught staring at you. 
That was the day when his current teammates realised that Jeremy was in love with you “you will not believe it!” You groaned as you slammed the door behind you “you’re home early.” The boy mumbled going quiet as he was met with a glare.
Jeremy frowned as he watched you collapse onto the couch next to him “think he wanted to go on a date with you before me.” You complained resting your head on his shoulder “I’m sorry you had a bad date.” The hockey player was quick to wrap his arm around you.
Like always you melted into his touch “no you’re not.” You mumbled feeing him kiss your head “just like that I was right.” Jeremy could have lied but you knew him far too well for the chance to go unnoticed. 
You couldn’t help but laugh “you’re such an ass.” A giggle left your lips as Jeremy turned to look at you “sorry you let this outfit go to waste on him.” His hand ran along your cheek “you like my outfit.” You batted your eyelashes as you smiled. 
Jeremy nodded enjoying the feeling of your soft skin against his thumb “like anything you wear.” He mumbled beginning to turn his head to yours. Like clockwork his eyes shut and just as yours did your phone began to ring “shoot.” You groaned seeing your mom’s contact appear on the screen. 
It hit the boy like a cold shower as he watched you get up grabbing your phone “hey mom.” You tan your fingers through your hair as you sent Jeremy a sorry look “yeah I can talk.” You nodded along walking back into your room as you began catching her up on the events of your day. 
As the evening turned into night and the hours went on, Jeremy didn’t see you again as he had gone to bed. Whilst the lights in the apartment were off both of your minds were active. Truthfully neither one of you remembered what it was like to have your minds this full. 
Jeremy stared at the pictures on his phone of you two and he couldn’t help but curse your mom for calling. Especially after you called your mom this cool woman who was your best friend, that was a far cry from what he would have described as a cock block. 
What he didn’t know was that you were pacing outside of his door. You hadn’t even noticed but halfway through your phone call with your mom you were bringing up how you wanted kiss your roommate. Because of course you had been in love with him since your college days too. Yet yours came from your time in class together. 
You had been in the lecture hall for five minutes as you set yourself up in the middle of the rows. Whilst students came flooding into the cramped room, you were too focused on your phone to notice how Jeremy walked right to you “this seat taken?” The question was innocently asked with a voice barely above a whisper that you didn’t even care to look up as you instead opted to nod. 
It gave Jeremy the chance to settle in next to you “I’m Jeremy.” Even as you two had been in classes together, he had never gotten the chance to see you, especially not like this “Y/n.” You took his hand that he held out for you to shake. 
A smile formed on his lips as he couldn’t help but study your facial features that stood before him in all their glory as you woke up late with little to no time for make up that morning “I know.” Jeremy grinned seeing your lips curve upward “you know?” Your words were playful as you didn’t believe him.
The boy laughed as he nodded “think you’re real pretty y/n.” Your name sounded like honey as it rolled off of his tongue “think that’s enough flirting from you for one day Swayman.” You tucked your hair behind your ear avoiding how wide your smile had grown as you avoided his stare when your cheeks turned red. 
The memories of that day made you smile as you never thought you would fall in love with him. But you couldn’t help but come back to your dorm to gush to your mom about how different your expectations of him were. Yet all of those thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as the boys door opened letting you be met by his chest. 
You almost fell back as Jeremy’s quick reaction time pulled you closer to him as he steadied your feet “what are you doing awake?” His voice was low as he watched you gulp “couldn’t sleep.” Your fingers ran over his bare chest as you looked up at him. 
If eyes were the key to the soul then the two of you were currently open books “you?” Your lips pursed together as the tension between you both could have been cut by a knife “couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged as he reached behind your head tucking your hair behind your ear.
Jeremy loved how you smiled up at him “what’s on your mind?” He asked noting how your eyebrow arched like something was on your mind “you.” The word came from your lips like it word vomit. 
But as his expression turned surprised it made you go quiet “me?” You nodded letting out a sigh “I try to ignore it but god I’m in love with you.” You ran your fingers through your hair as Jeremy just stared at you.
Maybe it was the shock of hearing you say that but he swore he was dreaming “and I don’t want to lose you but I can’t.” Your chest heaved “I can’t keep on going on these dates hoping it might get you to say something to me.” Tears formed in your waterline as you chewed at the inside of your cheek. 
Jeremy finally opted to put you out of your misery when he smiled “you love me?” His voice was shaky as he squeezed your hips “you’re being mean Jer.” You nodded feeling like you were on the edge of your seat waiting to hear what he would say.
A laugh left his lips “think you can answer my question f’me pretty girl?” Jeremy taunted as he smirked “I’m in love with you.” Your voice was barely a whisper as he shut the gap between you both.
The air was palpable as your heart pounded “I love you too.” Your hair wrapped around his finger as he smiled “can I kiss you?” Jeremy let his lips hover over yours “please.” You nodded letting your eyes shut when he kissed you. 
The kiss made you melt as his lips swiped across yours. Jeremy let his hands travel through your hair settling at the nape of your neck refusing to let you go. Only when you both needed air did you pull apart “wow.” Jeremy groaned running his thumb over your lower lip. 
It made you laugh “yeah.” You nodded sending him a smile “think we should do that more often.” Your words had the boy pulling you into his room “why wait?” The hockey player asked picking you up as your legs wrapped around his waist as he picked you up.
Whilst the city might have been colder as the rain came in that night with a spring storm but what nobody would know was how hot the activities were in his room. You were left twisted in his sheets as your hearts intertwined and life began to show that the only way possible for you both was together. 
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icyg4l · 10 days
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PAC: What Do Your Passed On Loved Ones Admire About You?
Hello beautiful people! Today's reading will be a lot more serious than normal so this is a warning for those who will get emotionally triggered. Your passed on loved ones are with you always! I am simply just passing on the message. My condolences to those who have lost a loved one in their lifetime. If you are interested in this reading, please don't be afraid to dm me so that you can book with me! Be sure to refer to my guidelines and dm me if you have any questions. Without further ado, please pick the image that resonates with you the most.
Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-6)
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Pile One: Tenacity and strength are the first characteristics that come to mind. Your passed on loved one wants you to know that your childlike innocence is a gift not a curse. This could be your uncle. You are someone that can get the truth out of everyone simply because you know what to say. There’s not a lot that you have to say either. You’re quite the persuasive being. They also admire how level-headed you are. Some of your loved ones were more on the fiery side and because of that, they wish they could have been more balanced with their temperament when they were still here. However, this does not mean that you back down to a fight. You know when to open your mouth to protest against the injustices of the world. You have an undying love for humanity, nature and animals. You are so sensitive and precious to your loved ones. You also know when you’ve made a mistake. Your passed on loved ones see you as their Princess Diana. You’re kind and loving to all, but you fight when your back is against the wall or when others are being judged.
Cards Used: 6 of Cups, 7 of Wands, The Magician, 9 of Discs, Princess of Discs, 3 of Discs.
extras: blue ribbon ice cream. no limits. satisfaction guaranteed. mild. “there’s a lesson in everything.” monthly visits. crown. like mike (2002). lesbian. learning accommodations.
Pile Two: “You’re so cool” is the first thing that I heard. You are someone who is the standard. You are the Beyonce of your family. People try to impress you because you’re just that girl/guy/enby. You are an angel on earth. I feel like some of you were bullied when you were younger and this person came to your defense. This could have been an older sibling/cousin, maybe your mother who was younger than most. But you did not let these traumatic events harden you. You grew into a beautiful person. This pile as a whole went through a lot of back-to-back trauma in their lives but your passed on loved one wants you to know that they admire your peaceful approach to life. You are someone that is easy to bond with. I feel like you choose not to drink when the opportunity is presented because you have a bit of a temper when drunk. Your passed on loved one could have been the same way. You also have a fair way of viewing things. You try not to be biased when shown two sides of the story. You consider everything. You value the truth and the moral of the situation. Your integrity matters, Pile Two. Your passed on loved one wants you to continue to be this way.
Cards Used: Knight of Wands, Temperance, The Moon, 4 of Swords, Death, King of Swords, 6 of Discs.
extras: wet shirt. pushya moon. water sign. effervescent. sniffing flowers. moniker. “grown man.” glow. party pants. amazon. purify. NBA roster. sims 4 gaming channel. kawaii.
Pile Three: You are so humble, dear. Your passed on loved ones really admired your ability to talk to anyone. You never felt like you were above anyone. You treat everyone with the respect they deserve. You have stripped yourself down to the point where everyone can see through you clearly. You do not have to depend on material things to make up your self-concept. Your vulnerability is beautiful. It’s not a level of self-awareness that everyone can achieve. Some people may try to make you feel bad for where you come from but you carry yourself with nonchalance. That saying about sticks and stones is personified. Your passed on loved ones admire how you stay out of the way. “This is a crazy world” I heard. It feels like this is an elder talking to you. They believe that you will do big things in this world despite how little you have come from. You were not set up for failure. You have the tools to improve your situation.
Cards Used: The Star (RX), 6 of Cups, The Hermit, The High Priestess, Princess of Discs, Wheel of Fortune.
extras: neck tattoo. “kiss the ring.” ring around the rosie. martian. elephant in the room. malleable. solar system. troubleshoot. best buy. filled gas tank. empty condom box. snoring. aaliyah.
Pile Four: Your passed on loved one admires you in totality. This is your lover, could have been your fiance/fiancee. This also could have been your best friend. They miss your scent. They miss being in your presence, period. They love the shape of your eyes. They love the way you smile and tilt your head downward. You have this unexplainable quality about you that lights up the room. They know that life is different without them but they want you to keep going. Your go-getter, flirtatious nature is admirable as well. You have this lust for life that everyone should have. Your lover misses your physical touch. Your ability to get up every morning and go to sleep at night makes them want to come back down to Earth temporarily. Your person could have had some egotistical qualities about themselves but they love that you loved them with all your heart. They see you as their other half. They want to reunite with you in another life. This story is to be continued, my love.
Cards Used: Princess of Swords, 9 of Wands, 4 of Cups, King of Wands, 2 of Cups, The Lovers.
extras: eartha kitt. purr. austin powers costumes. chapell roan. meeting in college. musical.ly.
Pile Five: You take pride in your appearance. You stay in the gym to keep your figure right. You get your nails and hair done. You pick out the right colors for your wardrobe. You stay on top of your shit. But you also have this side to you that is in tune with the world around you. You have the perfect amount of both feminine and masculine energy to them. Are you a lawyer or social justice advocate? Your passed on loved one wants you to know that you can do all. You’re living proof that anything can happen. This feels like a male’s energy. He was a dominating force in the household and he was young. This could be your father or older brother. They are smiling down on how you have manifested everything that you two talked about. They were there in spirit when you made history/reached a milestone. They also admire how you keep in touch with family even after their death. They admire how you keep your promises even if it’s something that you don’t want to do. You need to learn to ask for help though and stop being so stubborn. They appreciate the altar you dedicated to them. If not, you need to. It would strengthen the relationship between the two of you.
Cards Used: Ace of Cups, The Emperor, Queen of Cups, Justice, The Star, 10 of Wands, 10 of Cups.
extras: quen blackwell. new workout plan (2004). ari fletcher. olivia pope. kpop bias. fallen curtain. sweeping feet.
Pile Six: When I pulled for you, I thought of the movie ‘Paid in Full’. Whoever your loved one is, they lived a dangerous/risky life at some point. But they admire how cutthroat you are. You get stuff done. You keep stuff moving. Your passed on loved one says that you have their swag. You have a lot of mental energy. You’re smart, both book and street smart. Your loved one says to stay safe and live life to the fullest; but also live it the clean way. They like how you stay outside in nature with the wildlife. I feel like you are the breadwinner or you at least have a lot of money saved up. You are attempting to gain financial stability at a young age and I can hear claps because of that, lol. Along with your practical side, they admire your outlook on life. You try to be as fiscal as possible but you also try to enjoy the fruits of your labor. You will party with a lot of people. I feel like your person was kind of uptight. I feel like you never miss a chance to make money. You’re a “hustler”, just like your loved one. This person feels like an uncle, a cousin, maybe your father.
Cards Used: King of Discs, King of Wands, 2 of Swords, King of Swords, 7 of Swords, Queen of Discs.
Extras: “keep it in the family.” “no one knows.” pork rinds. round glasses. beeper. shady business. groupme. “out of line.” solo dolo. throwback. paying tribute.
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autisticrosewilson · 1 month
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It's been bugging me for a while that we have so many canonically queer characters now but none of them ever DO anything! It's like after they get two characters in a queer relationship they just never give them any conflict after. We didn't ask for more representation because we wanted that character to no longer have interesting stories outside of a queer identity we wanted you to stop queer baiting us.
I know that word gets tossed around a lot, but there is very strong evidence for TimKon, StephCass, and GhostBat where they practically confirm it but they never say anything explicitly. Supersons were literally shown to live together, co-parent Lizzie, and were explicitly paralleling other canon couples last week.
But it's too much for Kon AND Tim to be queer, so they gave Tim a civilian boyfriend that he never has any conflict with and all of the build up and tension that comes with trying to clone your dead teammate 99 times and being a hair away from making out for like 8 years.
Robin AND Super boy couldn't be canonically queer so they aged Jon up and then gave him a civilian boyfriend he never has any conflict with all while parading them around in elseworlds because they knew fans were upset about the lost potential.
Even Harley and Ivy fall victim to this in a different way. I love that they're canonically queer! I just wish that at least Ivy got to keep some of her villainy. I don't think they should have to compromise being menaces to society with being queer.
And it's related but I hesitate to call it queer baiting... what's going on with Dick Grayson. He gets confirmed bi in a non canon video game but he has more pride covers than Tim. Like you can't dangle an extremely queer coded character in front of us and then just never make it canon. And I'm tired of one off implications too. We deserve better representation than a one liner played off for a joke (Batstantine this is about you I fear) but they won't because they know full well they won't do a damn thing with him after.
You wanna know what we should be striving for? Midnighter and Apollo. Messy their whole run time, uncompromisingly interesting whether they're together or not, happily married with a daughter, and yet continued to be unerringly bad ass. John Constantine, with all of his shameless flirting and raunchiness. Grace Choi and Anissa Pierce. The pining, the break ups, the make ups. Obsessed with them.
Joey Wilson!!! You want someone whose already canonically queer who Dick has a lot of tension with? He's right there! The son of Dick's arch Nemesis. Both of their willingness to go over people's heads to protect them. Joey's ability to completely take someone's free will (and his deliberate and spiteful choice not to) vs. Dick's constant fight for independence (and his willing surrender to the pull of his family). Dick's unwillingness to communicate his feelings or experiences with literally anyone ever paired with Joey's uncanny ability to read him like a book. Are you joking. The mess, the tension, the INTRIGUE!!
This got away from me but I want my queer characters to be interesting again pretty please.
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shigarakisslutbag · 2 months
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Also I don't trust anyone that thinks shigaraki is an entirely hateful character. Like yes, he's obviously hateful towards a lot of things LOL. But he's shown he cares for those that support him multiple times
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He just doesn't show it in the way I think people *expect* him to. But he cares quite a lot. I find it even more endearing that it's clear that he cares for the members of the league without having to say it. We LOVE a king who knows actions speak better than words.
I also really don't think he's incapable of having a partner? A lot of people would say it's out of character (which would be true for earlier seasons maybe?), but I think the reason he doesn't have any feelings like that for people is
1.) he had no idea of what a good relationship looked like growing up. he was 5 when everything happened. And even if he didn't accidentally kill his family?? His dad was abusive and emotionally unavailable. If he had led a "normal" life, it would've been incredibly hard to unlearn what he was taught love was. I think his mom would've been the only reason, if she were alive, that he would know what love and connection felt like, had they not died.
2.) no one (to my knowledge. I haven't read the manga), has really complimented him. Told him he was pretty. Said they were proud. Even if someone did compliment him looks wise, no one has pointed out good qualities he has (at least up until the league regarding positive traits he has (personality, leadership qualities, intelligence). And even then, one of the first things he heard from dabi was an insult to his face. I love dabi but that still makes my eye twitch 🙃)
I'm not saying praise, validation, or compliments would fix everything. But ohmygod. If someone would just be genuine and tell him that they believe and support his successes, or listen and talk to him like a human, it'd probably send him into a different, slightly healthier mindset.
One reason I absolutely love the friendship/relationship between spinner and shigaraki. He just needs some verbal support and someone who listens (me too LOL). He deserves so much idc. No just spinner either.
I'm a shigaraki supporter first, and a human second🙂‍↕️. Also I do apologize if some of my I formation doesn't seem very correct, it's been a while since I've watched it, and I do not read the manga 🥲. Even if some of my facts don't stand though, I am a very firm believer that with more attention or someone completely loyal, would make him happy. I mean it was pretty much proved he loved attention and wanted supporters more than anything in season 2(?) I think. Anyways, I love my boy. If shigaraki has no supporters, I'm deceased LMAO
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elliespuns · 4 months
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There's this deleted dialogue between Ellie and Dina (video) where all of our theories of how their friendship/relationship started are confirmed. I took the time to write down the whole thing before analyzing the hell out of it.
Dina, is pink. Ellie, is not.
I was asking, if I hadn't come on to you in Jackson, how would you have hit on me? Like I would have hit on you. You totally would've hit on me. How bad could it have gone? You might have rejected me and then what? I'd have to watch you fall for someone else. Okay, worst case, it would be a little awkward and we just move on. There's no way we just move on. Yes, you would have. What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore? Such a pussy. Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?
Tell me about when you first realized you were into me. Was it my swagger, my overwhelming beauty? I was into from the day we met. Go on. The day we met, you introduced yourself to me and Joel like you were the major or something. Because I thought you were cute. *blushing* shut up! I hate you. No, you don't. Yes, I do. No, you don't. I love you. I love you too.
Okay, so, as Ellie says, she was into Dina from the day they met. Which was when they came to Jackson with Joel. Ellie was still 14 (I guess more likely freshly 15 at the time, actually). Dina is probably like a year older, so she was 16. I mean, now I can't stop imagining 15-year-old Ellie meeting 16-year-old Dina and being all twitterpated by her. Just remember the cuteness when Ellie was shown to be in love with Riley. Imagine this when she's 15 and meets Dina. Just adorable.
Also, quoting Ellie "Okay, who was the one that had this blinding urge to kiss me for 4 years and didn't do shit?"
This means even Dina had a crush on Ellie in the early stages. 4 years ago, Ellie was 15, so that means she either started to like her right away or a little bit later on. The girls were into each other, just tiptoeing around one another not to do anything stupid or ruin their friendship.
This also gives us a pretty clear picture of how things were between Ellie and Cat. She was already in love with Dina at the time she was going out with her, and remembering how Dina always disliked the fact that Ellie was hanging out with Cat only proves that Dina was jealous all along. Her relationship with Jessee must have been something similar to what Ellie had with Cat, although I believe that Dina started dating Jesse a lot sooner and had already been good friends before that.
Ellie seems a little hesitant when it comes to relationships (this whole dialogue confirms it too), so maybe if it wasn't for Cat making first steps, Ellie would have never gotten into any relationship to begin with. It seems to me that she just wanted to explore and wanted to know what it was like, but she didn't really made herself believe that she loved her. She surely cared for her and liked her, but knowing she was in love with Dina at the time, it was probably even the reason why Cat broke up with her (I always thought it was her who ended it). She probably knew all along that Ellie had eyes for her best friend anyway.
I also appreciate how Ellie admits she was insecure about asking Dina out. "What if you were grossed out? What if you didn't wanna be around me anymore?", I love how deep this digs into Ellie's personality and how, even though she is a strong and independent girl, she still struggles with abandonment issues. Now she doesn't feel like this only towards Joel, but towards her best friend too. Like, she is lovely, nice, funny, and beautiful, but she still feels insecure. Help me with this girl, she deserves the world because she'd rather love her friend from afar than ending up without a friend. Under the layer of thick skin and a strong mind, this girl is so fucking sensitive and fragile it physically hurts me.
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This gives the dance scene a whole lot of new meaning. It's probably the very first time Dina says to herself, 'Okay, now's the time. It's now or never.' and after all those years of resisting, she makes a move on Ellie, knowing the girl must feel it too. The girl is too quirky and shy to hide it anymore whenever she's around Dina.
And Ellie? She has been loving Dina for too long, probably trying to convince herself she wouldn't have a chance with Dina, thinking she's into guys, not girls, let alone her girl best friend. And there she is, suddenly grabbing Ellie's hand and leading her on the dance floor, wrapping HER ARMS around HER BODY. Ellie's arms around her body. What is happening? Is she just imagining it? Ellie's heart must have missed thousands of beats at this moment. I love how it's shown in her facial expression as Dina whispers in her ear. Ellie is so awestruck that she doesn't even realize all Dina wants to do is something she should've done 4 years ago.
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wonwooslibrary · 2 months
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svt as boyfriends ♡ chan edition
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member: lee chan (dino) x gn! reader
genre: fluff, established relationship, bullet points
word count: 714
summary: channie's boyfriend things <333
warnings: mentions of menstrual cycles & insulting in a loving way
author's note: hello! normally this is where i would be oops i'm getting back into writing but i'll be completely honest this time and say that i am completely falling out of love with it and i genuinely haven't opened a wip in so damn long. if i wasn't so far into this series, I definitely would not have finished it....i want to write more but it just might take me a while to find my love for it once again...thanks for still reading though <3 sorry this is so late, and I hope you enjoy reading!!!
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Socially stupid bf <3 
If anyone sees you, they will always know that Chan is close behind 
Is so madly in love with you and doesn’t know how to live without you
Quality Time 
Loves taking you anywhere he goes, including dance practices or shopping 
Dinner dates are his thing - he’ll pull off the roses and candles and everything 
Constant texts when you can’t be together because of work or visiting family 
Such as hey i managed to find that sock that went missing in the laundry last week !! or how long do i put 12 pizza rolls in the microwave for 
Loves just being with you when you take part in your hobbies, even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy them himself 
Gets worried that you’ll get angry with him because he’s always with you and knows that you need your alone time once in a while 
Words of Affirmation
Compliments you through jokes or insults type of boyfriend 
You’re all like “I love you,” and he’s like, “You wouldn’t if I was a worm though :(“ and then you roll your eyes because come on, how could someone not love Lee Chan
Always apologizes for things he doesn’t need to apologize for because he doesn’t want to upset you :((( 
I don’t think Chan would be a big fan of pet names, to be honest, but if he was, I think they would just be versions of your name :3 
Melts into a puddle when you compliment him because !!! you are complimenting him !!!! 
Basically he can dish out all the compliments, but the minute you try saying them back, he turns into a literal tomato because he’s embarrassed but also so madly in love 
Physical Touch
I think he is secretly one of the biggest cuddle bugs in svt and nobody can change my mind
When he laughs, he always manages to fall into you some way, whether that be resting his head on your shoulder or crumpling into you
Loves holding hands (especially in public) but not in a possessive way, more of a I constantly want to be around you kind of way 
And of course you love it because it’s Lee Chan and you love everything about him 
On the other hand, there are definitely days that he doesn’t feel confident in himself or that he deserves the love you give him :((( 
You know on those days that you need to show your affection and make the first moves yourself,,,he likes loving you, but sometimes he just needs to be shown that he can be loved too
Acts of Service 
I’m not going to lie, I struggled a bit with this category, because I feel it’s easier for Chan to say things rather than show it
He’s just not sure whether him making tea for you says “i love you” or “sup bro” and wants to make sure he gets the right message across 
Because of this, your relationship took a while to form because both of you cannot take a hint and were so convinced you didn’t like each other 
Absolutely loves helping you with literally everything: doing chores, studying, getting ready in the morning, as long as you are there with him, he doesn’t care and will do anything 
He doesn’t realize that what he does shows how much he loves you, he just thinks its normal to help you, and vice versa 
Sometimes you protest against his help but he’s just a BOY WHO IS IN LOVE let him do what he wants :( 
Gift Giving 
A huuuge fan of gift giving 
Will buy anything that you could ever want or need
Stuffed animals and snacks galore !!!! 
If you have menstrual cycles, he would totally be the type of boyfriend to go to the store and buy whatever products you need and surprise you with a bunch of snacks and treats throughout the week 
You of course also spoil him to the best of your ability and he loves it, but also always feels bad when you spend money on him in any way
Loves matching and customizable gifts !!! He likes to give you things that can make you laugh and remember a specific moment with him because he thinks it’s cute (and you think it’s sappy and adorable)
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mrzombielover · 3 months
Text
- slow ride ch1
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feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader
series masterlist | next chapter
warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation
a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee
wc: 2.2k
“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”
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When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.
Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”
Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.
You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.
But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.
“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.
“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.
“No way in hell,” You say quickly.
“Please!”
“No,”
“Pleaseee!”
You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.
“…you owe me one,”
You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.
For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.
You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.
The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?
You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.
Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.
You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.
“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”
You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.
“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.
“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.
“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.
“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.
“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.
“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…
“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.
“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.
“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”
“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”
Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.
“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.
“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.
“it’s you, bitch!”
“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”
you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.
“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-
“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.
theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.
then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.
“wait, what’s-“
“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.
“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.
the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.
“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.
once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.
“So impatient, babe,” He grins.
“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.
You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.
“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.
“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.
It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.
“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.
“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.
You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.
You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.
“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.
He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.
“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.
Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.
“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.
He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.
Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.
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pavardscherie · 1 year
Text
― what i deserve ;; pablo gavi & pedri gonzalez ;; part one
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⤷ pairing: pablo gavi x f!reader ;; pedri gonzalez x f!reader ⤷ summary: your relationship with gavi ended after he cheated on you. time has passed, pedri always checked up on you with small messages until he invited you to one of the home games. somewhere between losing your heart to pedri; gavi still attempts to get you back. ⤷ warnings: curse words ;; injuries ;; mentions of blood ;; hand around throat ;; explicit sex scenes ;; asshole!gavi ;; cheating ;; violence in fights ;; spanking ;; dom & sub ;; dirty talk ;; teasing ;; very deep feelings & conversations ;; slight triangle thing but not most of the time ;; second chances kinda ;; friends to lovers ;; not proofread & probably horrible written kiss scenes lol ⤷ izzy's notes: first part here we go! it took me so long tbh, but like, i swear i got distracted by pedri (& reading other's imagines about pedri lol). tell me what you think if you want!
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Seven Months passed. Multiple calls turned into none. Messages vanished from your lockscreen, and for the first time, when you stared down at your phone, it seemed more like a blessing than torture. The reminders of an unhealthy relationship rested in the back of your mind, stopping the painful memories of being cheated on to resurface.
It’s been almost a month since you found yourself, enjoying casual football games again. Raised by a very determined father, who cheered from the couch or in the middle of the fans for his favorite club, he passed his knowledge to you before he became the beautiful picture in the settling sun.
Avoiding Camp Nou to increase the distance between you and your former boyfriend, the stadium pulled you back one day. It all started with a call, you never expected to receive. On the other side of the line, waited a nervous Pedri with an invitation to one of his home games. After the awful break up with Gavi, the friendship between you and his best friend crumbled quickly.
At least, once in a while, you received a short text message, asking about your well-being but after answering, you never received another. The game of two messages in a month lasted until the surprising call reached you and suddenly, Pedri found himself in your inbox almost each day.
And somehow, even after declining his invitation multiple times in a row, you ended up in the secluded section of the stands, reserved for family members and people close to the players. It was new to you to be treated like a special addition in someone’s life as Gavi never offered you such a seat.
Your little flag draped over the bouncing legs, the anxiety had you trembling. An empty stomach caused your chest to tighten, as your eyes skimmed across the still empty pitch. It would be the first time of seeing Gavi again, after checking his latest social media posts once in a while. Snapchat let you in on the multiple parties he visited over the past months; in each picture another girl with high hopes of feeling his undivided love wrapped around his biceps. It was pathetic in many ways, especially that you still shed a tear while staring at the photo, and compared yourself to the different types of women.
Gavi never really had a particular type. He just enjoyed the thought of having too many gush about him.
Loud music boomed through the stadium, the announcer’s voice mixed with the beat as he welcomed the fans of both teams. After a quick speech about the upcoming match, the team was shown on the large four screen on each side of Camp Nou.
Fans shouted the last names of the players, some louder and some swallowed by the warm air of the early summer day until two faces appeared. Number Thirty, Gavi. His face appeared on the screen, the pillow-like lips without a curl and the arms crossed. He still looked like the guy, you met over a year ago.
Yet, the fans were equally excited when Pedri’s number was shown. Black hair carefully brushed down, the ends of his strands scattered across the forehead and the arms crossed like Gavi had before.
Eyes glued to the screen in front of you, you paid no attention to the players, running onto the pitch in their pre-match jackets and warming up for exhausting ninety minutes without additional time. Discomfort replaced the emptiness, and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to stand up, and run out of Camp Nou — away from the upcoming confrontation, and seeing Gavi question Pedri’s intentions.
Nervously, your trembling fingers brushed the loose strands of hair out of the face, attempting to forget about the little voice in the back of your head — shouting at you to run as fast as you could. You were close to the field, almost too close for your liking as it seemed so easy to notice your attendance.
Maybe it was a mistake to show up; even after Pedri’s words turned into a sweet begging. You should have declined his attempts, should have watched the match from home and switching channels quickly when Gavi appeared on the screen. Same routine as the past year.
“I thought you would dodge.” A familiar, gentle voice demanded your attention, the source standing right in front of the stands. Your head snapped around, almost quick enough to tear a muscle, as you were faced with Pedri. A ball tightly in one hand, his lips curled into a sweet smile. Black strands styled upwards on the front, dressed in the Barcelona kit and a pre-match jacket, his eyes glued on you.
“I accepted; how could I dodge then?” Your elbow propped up on your knee to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg, you placed your chin in your palm. “I’m not that mean.” Emphasizing the the second to last word, Pedri’s head dipped down, and chuckled mildly.
“I can’t judge that, it’s been a while.” The ball rolled out of his grip and bounced on the grass until being trapped underneath the studs of his football shoes. “I didn’t tell him, you’re here. He doesn’t really deserve to know about your presence.”
Pedri was Gavi’s best friend, they shared secrets with each other and even trained out of the club together. Through your relationship, you became close friends with Pedri as well. And you were thankful for it, as he forced Gavi into telling you how he messed up that one night. If it wasn’t for Pedri, you still would be trapped in a very toxic relationship with a man, who used your trust for nightly adventures.
“Thank you.” You mouthed, this time letting the small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth break through. “Score a goal for me, yeah?”
Pedri raised a bushy eyebrow, surprised by what you demanded from him after losing contact for way too long. Yet, nothing has changed, you were still irresistible in each possible way for him. Turning away from you to dribble towards the teammates, Pedri glanced over his shoulder for a second time and raised his hand to show you a simple thumbs up. Enough of an answer for the question, as the midfielder found his way to his partner in crime on and off the pitch.
The game was in the hands of Barcelona, holding the ball in their possession the longest, and playing in the half of the enemy team. Close to scoring the lead goal, they stood in the twenty-ninth minute when a particular, harsh foul coaxed a gasp out of your mouth. A frustrated defensive player from Villareal decided to slide-tackle Pedri, the studs on his shoes hitting the ankle of the midfielder with full force instead of the rolling ball.
With a loud scream, filled with pain, Pedri fell to the ground, clutching his ankle between both hands. Pain twisted in his expression, and you jumped up from the seat, throwing your hands in the air. Camp Nou was filled with Barcelona supporters who booed and shouted insults through the stands.
Pedri was the last friend you had left, the last person that actually attempted to ask about your well-being even if he never answered another message until writing again. Seeing him, crumbled, laying on the ground, triggered the bubbled-up anger inside of you.
"Idiots!" You suddenly shouted; the insult rolled off your tongue quicker than you were able to process in your head. The medical team hurried across the field, pushing the Barcelona players out of the way to take a closer look at the ankle. While your eyes glistened with worry, they drifted from the ground to another person, ruffling the hands nervously through the hair and staring down at his best friend. Gavi.
Delicate palms pressed against the cold, silver bars which were used as a railing, you stared at the horrific incident, and how the medical's started to help Pedri off the field. But the midfielder's mind changed with the first steps, shaking his head and hands to explain that he belonged on the pitch; and wanted to stay. The referee behind them, blew his whistle, pointing his fingers annoyed at the watch around his wrist. Waving him off, Pedri hobbled off the field and the game continued quickly. At least three minutes have passed, if not longer, and it would be added at the end of the first half.
Still leaning across the railing, you tried to steal a glance at the coaching bench to see if Pedri was truly doing better, or playing the tough guy while his ankle swelled in a deep navy blue and wine purple. The medical team focused completely on the midfielder, inspecting how harsh the contact was and how strong the pain was. Losing Pedri in the midfield position would be a devastating start into the game.
The match continued, with Barcelona forced to play with one man less; and the opponents immediately tried to use the fact to their advantage. You couldn’t find a second to glance away from the painful twist on Pedri’s face. Eyes squeezed close, the bottom lip assaulted by his teeth as the medic’s pressed their fingers deeply against different spot around his ankle.
Minutes passed, and Xavi decided a substitute for the struggling Pedri was needed on the pitch. Displeased by the quick exchange, he rolled his eyes but swallowed the unattractive curse words which wanted to escape his mouth. Cheerful sounds rang in your ears, the fans around you jumping to their feet with the arms stretched into the warm spring air. Lewandowski once again scored a goal for Barcelona; with an assist from none other than number thirty. Gavi, who ran over to the much taller man, jumping straight on his back for a piggyback ride.
Pedri clapped his hands from the sideline, still seated in the grass while a bandage was wrapped around the swollen ankle; a thick pack of ice hidden between the layers. While the team hugged, and congratulated Robert for another perfect lead goal, Gavi jogged along the sideline towards his best friend for their very own celebration. Head tilted to the side, acknowledging the different aged females that screamed his name in a high-pitched, loud voice, with a wave and a smile.
But the curve of his mouth dropped, when his gaze drifted through the front row of the stands, bathing in the applause; and suddenly, drawn in by your presence.
A black, woolen jacket over the shoulders, the sleeves in your delicate palms. Underneath the thin material of a cardigan was a tight-cropped shirt, showing a small line of exposed skin until the charcoal-colored cargo pants perfected the chosen outfit. Hair, partly in a messy bun, the loose strands falling freely over your shoulders.
An appearance that reminded him of the first nights, you spent together. You were never a person for the tight dresses, or the overusing of makeup, and the confessions immediately drew Gavi in. But this time, your worried gaze wasn’t focused on him, you were staring at the injured man next to the coach’s bench. Concern twisted your features, eyebrows pulled down in a frown when Pedri winced as the ice bag was pressed tighter against the purple marks.
You visited Camp Nou for Pedri; for Gavi’s best friend. Unfortunately, the thought of seeing his mate touch you, kiss you, or even more, bothered him. A sudden wave of jealousy overcame Pablo, turning away from the sidelines as the referee blew the whistle for the third time, and already rummaged through the little pocket on the front of his polo shirt.
Trembling fingers brushed through the damp, chestnut strands as Gavi received the first booking of the night. And all he had left as an answer, was a subtle shrug of his shoulders instead of throwing a fit. He did not understand the sudden, unknown pinches in his heavy-breathing chest, or the reason behind the drifting gaze of his eyes to see if you were still in the stands and not already by Pedri's side.
A trail of thoughts, seeing you with his best friend entangled, bothered his mind and increased the difficulty of focusing solely on the last minutes of the first half. In seconds, he remembered the scent you carried around like a shield of protection, a fruity mixture of raspberries and vanilla. It was never a perfume like he assumed in the beginning, it was just a tube of shower gel. Those memories never bothered his concentration before, all it needed to remind him, was a glance at your face.
The referee blew the whistle once more, ending the first half of the match with a leading goal for Barcelona. And it did not take you longer than a minute to find a way out of the stands and to the catacombs. Your face was a familiar one, the security guards were still the same from the time you were by Gavi's side. An advantage for you, as they casually nodded their heads and let you through to the entrance of the tunnels. Brushing the thin strands out of the face while jogging down the corridor, the hem of your sleeves tightly between the delicate palm and soft fingertips.
Anxiety burst through your body in irregular waves when you reached the entrance to the pitch. Greeted by multiple familiar faces, your unfocused gaze drifted through the crowd, trying to find the injured midfielder. "How ironic." The rough voice twisted your stomach, the all-too-familiar melody, you once loved to listen to for more than six months. Stopping in your tracks, like the soles of your shoes were rooted to the tiled floor, you swallowed the breath you held without notice. Before you had a chance to find Pedri, and assure yourself that the concern was deeply unnecessary, Gavi found your worked-up self. „Can‘t stay away from me, huh?“
Arrogance infiltrated Pablo‘s voice, showing off the admiration he received over the past months as a shield and a new part of his personality. Confidence always lingered in his body, but the way he spoke, wasn’t similar to what you remembered. Teeth gritted, the anger bubbled in the pit of your stomachs. Anger twisted your insides, tainted your gentle heart and attempted to push you into a blinded rage. Accusing him of what he has done, how easily he played with your heart and tossed you away, but the worse part was the way, he tore your soul apart with his lies and words. Delicate fingers clenched into tight fists, the manicured nail dug into the sensitive skin of your palms.
Little needles pierced your heart, and the pain tightened your chest. You wanted to scream at him, make a fool out of yourself in the middle of the faces, you became all too familiar with. Turning around to face the arrogant curve of his mouth, Gavi stood against the wall. Studs against the stones, arms crossed over the Barcelona Jersey with the number thirty and his name. Chestnut strands in a devilish mess, thick hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead but the curl of his lips, the smugness written in the corners was the only part of him, you were able to focus on. It did not matter how attractive he was in any situation, the actions he did turned him into an ugly person for you. "Hermanito, she's not here for you. I invited her to the game." Pedri's gentle voice echoed through the corridor, capturing the attention of the two ex-lovers. Gavi rolled his eyes, tilting the head to the side while yours snapped in the direction of the entrance to the pitch at the first tone.
One arm draped over the shoulders of a medic, Pedri was carried inside on one foot. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, he was still in pain, but he did not intend to show an ounce of it. Pedri's gaze drifted away from the glimpse of annoyance in Gavi's expression, and to your face. Gentle features twisted by emotions, anger, and confusion, but also concern overshadowed the pureness.
„Are you okay?“ Carefully, you took a step towards the injured player, who assured the medic‘s that he was fine enough to walk further on his own. „That looked harsh, is it broken? I hope not.“ You rambled on between questions and expressing your concern as the distance closed between the two of you, and Pedri stepped into your little personal bubble.
Gavi‘s existence was not acknowledged by you anymore, the groan that slipped past his lips swallowed by the thick air in the catacombs. "No, it's swollen but it's nothing too serious. I'm benched for the rest of the game though."
"At least, it's nothing too bad! I almost jumped off the stands after hearing your scream." The words she attempted to hold inside, spilled out of her mouth, and admitted the intense moments of concern she went through. "Don't worry, again." Pedri chuckled, waving the worry away with his hand. "But it's flattering to know that you declined my invitation way too many times, just to sit in the stands weeks later and jump out of your seat because I got tackled.” While Pedri did not leave a second to spare to share a flirtatious comment with you, Gavi swallowed the heavy mixture of breath and oxygen. A lump in the throat, the need to leave the hallways indescribable but his hooded eyes were glued to the scene. Curiosity forced him to stay in his place, curiosity about how far the encounter would evolve.
„Well..“ You trailed off, swaying from your weight from the left to the right while deciding what words to say. „You’re my friend.“ A gentle smile plastered over your face as the answer slipped out so easily. But what you didn’t see, was the little flinch in Pedri‘s proud posture, the way he almost considered taking a step back and leaving your personal bubble again after hearing the word friend. For him, you were always irresistible, he never understood how his best friend chose hundreds of others when the perfect example of a caring girlfriend was right in front of him.
But the scene, the awkwardness that unfolded between the two of you caused a loud laugh to slip out of Gavi‘s mouth. Suddenly, he was relieved that he stayed to witness how you called him a friend with such ease. “All that work for being pushed into the friend zone again.“ He clapped his hands together, pushing himself off the wall to walk towards the changing rooms. „Maybe, she‘s still too much into me, hermanito.“ Pablo disappeared, including himself in the round of multiple conversations between his teammates. Thoughts vanished when you confessed Pedri was just another friend; leaving you alone with him in the corridor suddenly did not bother Gavi anymore. Satisfied by your words, satisfied to see that you just could not move on from what he gave you, plastered a wide smirk across his face. At least Pablo told himself that you weren’t able to leave him in the past to smooth his growing ego. Glimpses of confidence and pride written over the curl of his mouth.
"Maybe, you can watch the second half from the stands with me?" You fiddled with the ties on your cargo pants, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. Gavi's words triggered another wave of pure anger, and it was difficult to decide if calling Pedri a friend was the wrong or a good choice. "Just you know, if your coach allows it." Shrugging the shoulders, asking such a question felt oddly weird. And waiting for an answer gave rise to your nervousness.
"I have to change first, then there shouldn't be a reason not to be able to." Asking for his company in the stands, with the almost invisible watermelon-pink tint across the span of your cheeks, allowed another spark of hope to ignite in Pedri's stomach.
Taking a liking to his best mate's ex-girlfriend wasn't the greatest move, but Pablo knew the best, that Pedri fancied you for much longer than he actually said. With a quick nod, the injured midfielder stumbled into the changing room and immediately received a warm welcome, and questions about his foot from his teammates. Except for his best friend, Gavi stayed in the corner of the room, drowning a bottle of water while his intense glare never left Pedri's smiling face. And the number thirty of the Barcelona Football Club was the first to leave the locker room again, leaving behind a confused Balde, and stumbling straight into your gaze again.
Somehow, his features moved on their own. Furrowed brows relaxed, and the corners of his mouth lifted, much to your dismay. “You could have done anything.” Gavi pointed a single finger at you, closing the distance with slow steps. The woolen cardigan suddenly felt too warm, too tight wrapped around your numb limbs at the sight. For months, you avoided social media, the news and even football as a whole to not come in contact with regret. Remorse for not answering his incoming text messages about spending time together again, the multiple question marks that filled your inbox and even worse, the filthy words he sent without hesitation, which your body accepted and reacted to way too quickly. “And yet, you chose my best friend as a reasonable excuse to watch me again.”
Shaking your head to answer his words without having to use your trembling voice, defending the leftovers of your pride, you failed ultimately when Gavi caged you between his sweaty body and the cold brick wall. Calloused palm placed beside your head, he used his free one to let his warm fingertips dance over the span of your cheeks. “Still so beautiful, even after I ruined you so many times.” The whispers triggered the memories, the moments you locked away in your mind — yet, not deeply enough for Gavi to easily access them.
Nights, you spent at his newly bought house. Wrapped tightly in the comfort of the black blanket, his naked chest pressed against your bare, arched back. Rough fingertips dug into the sensitive skin around your throat, pressing your windpipe barely together. It was never meant to hurt you, the ecstasy was his greatest reason. His hips snapped against your ass, diving deeper into the warmth of your walls. Moans filled the in darkness drowned bedroom, the dim light of the moon illuminating the side of your face. Lids fluttered close, just like those nights when Gavi was in the mood to ruin you.
But he chuckled, nonchalantly and pulled your mind out of the daydream that played like a movie in front of your closed eyes. Forcing the lids open, your pupils dilated in slight shock. Months of preparation weren’t enough to decline Gavi any access to your mind. But what was worse was the rapid pace of your heartbeat or the painful hammering against your rib cage that he was able to feel. The hand on your cheek started to travel south, fingertips caressed along your jaw, over the side of your throat, and towards your chest. Palm softly pressed against the material of your shirt, fitting perfectly between your breasts, his lips curled upwards in satisfaction when your heart boomed against his sprawled-out hand. „Still the same reaction and yet, you think Pedri could offer you what I‘ve given you.“ Head tilted to your height, just a couple of centimeters smaller than him, his warm breath fanned over your glossy lips
"Tell me that you're still mine, carino." Gavi muttered into the thin air that was caught between your mouth and his. Shaking your head with the last bit of willpower, and the unsettling feeling of shame in the pit of your stomach as he played his little mind games with you, your lips brushed over his repeatedly but never closed the gap. „You ruined me one too many times, darling.“ You hissed, wiggling yourself out of his trap and stepping to the side as the door to the locker room opened, and multiple players walked outside. It was the last piece of self-confidence that slipped out of your mouth and defended your honor. Mistakes were made, repeated way too often and kept as long-term secrets throughout the relationships. Gavi's disrespect to you as a woman was enough to turn him into an unattractive person. Yet, you questioned yourself if the sentence you spoke, wasn't too harsh.
Suddenly, your shoes became an interesting view to avoid Gavi's lingering gaze and the quick glances of the passing players. But Pedri's appearance went by unnoticed, his white sneakers the first thing you see. Taking in his body, the left hem of his cargo pants settled underneath his knee to decrease the pressure on the swollen ankle, the charcoal color an extravagant sight on his tanned skin. Paired with a hoodie, he adjusted the pieces of clothing to the warm weather, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A small black bag underneath his arm, keeping the most important essentials like his phone, and money inside of it. "You look a little flushed." Pedri used one of his hands to show with his long fingers the strawberry red tint across your cheeks, on his own face. Unfortunately, his words did not help to calm down your irregular breathing, or the intense pounding in your chest.
Any second longer at Camp Nou spread the discomfort in your body, shifting the weight from your left foot to the right to overshadow how much you trembled from the minutes with Gavi alone. Telling Pedri about his best friends' assault on his former lover would be absurd, after all, he was just a piece between Pablo and you. A friend for the two of you, but quietly cheering for your side. Clothes, way too tightly wrapped around your heavy limbs. Pedri's gentle face, radiating too much for your comfort.
"I think, I might just skip." You muttered, tilting the head to the side to avoid witnessing how the disappointment and the surprise twisted Pedri's features. Guilt bubbled in the pit of your stomach, inviting the midfielder first and then immediately taking back your words, and wanting to leave the stadium. Just in the span of five minutes, the glimpse of hope in Pedri's body vanished. Your sudden confession was a surprise to him, already attempting to find the mistakes he made that caused any discomfort to your figure. But the search never found a reasonable result. "Oh, I can sit at the coach's bench if you don't want to watch the game with me, it's fine." Pedri suggested immediately, trying to take the blame for the ways she felt without knowing what kind of emotions mixed in the pit of her stomach. "What?" You reacted quickly, the question tumbling out of your mouth as your eyebrows rose in confusion. Just for a simple second, you were clueless why he offered such a proposition but it hit you quickly.
"You said, you want to skip." Pedri's calloused palm placed over his neck, the fingertips scratching over the small hair and tanned skin. "I guess, you meant watching the game with me."
"Oh my gosh." You facepalmed yourself, letting your soft hand caress over you face. Strawberry red tint spread further across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, showcasing a sign of shame. "I didn't mean watching the game together, it was more about the entire second half. I think I will skip the rest of the game, I don't really feel prepared enough to watch Pablo longer than needed after his rude interruption." Palm pressed to your flushed cheek, your tried to hide the hues of bright crimson red tainting your smooth skin.
“Oh.” Pedri chuckled, a very calm and light-hearted sound as the relief washed over him. “Understood. He can be a real pain in the ass.” Since Gavi transferred to Barcelona Football Club underaged, and him and Pedri became best mates. Driving as the passenger of the midfielder’s forest green mini became a ritual, the fans always knowing if they saw Pedri’s car, Gavi wouldn’t be way too far. “I really hope you don’t mind. Maybe next time, the circumstances are better.” You almost apologized for looking after yourself once again, offering Pedri a gentle smile as you turned around to leave the cursed corridors of Camp Nou.
“I can drive you home.” Pedri was quick with his suggestion, taking a step forward to wrap his long fingers around your wrist and stop the distance from growing. The little contact; just the way his warm fingertips carefully pressed against your pulsating veins, caused another blush to creep its way across the span of your cheeks and increase the heat that already put your body on flames.
Like the watermelon pink attempted to tell you that the ignited fire wasn't a usual feeling. Admiration resurfaced, the slight crush you had on the midfielder before Gavi asked you out prominent in the way your face twisted. Letting the sensation linger, the warmth spread over your skin, you tried to tug your arm away from his embrace. Instead of another attempt to convince you of his offer, Pedri's finger loosened, your limb slipping out of his grip and out of reach, without taking a step forward. "Only if you feel comfortable enough to share a car with me." Pedro added to his suggestion, witnessing how your body language changed. Muscles tensed with his touch, your voice barely audible as your heavy breaths overshadowed the words. And for merely a moment, Pedri questioned the way he almost tried to persuade you into spending time with him — even if it was just a lame car ride.
Delicate and soft palms wiped over your face, probably ruining the layers of make up you covered your blemished skin with. Choosing Pedri’s company could be a chance to feel a moment of mild comfort again. After all, he cared enough for your well-being to ask many, many times. Even when you decided not to answer the first text messages because you thought Gavi would be the reason behind the sudden interest. But it wasn’t, it has never been. “Sure, it’s better than being alone right now.” You accepted with hesitation as your mind traveled through the worst-case scenarios. While you walked through the corridors towards the parking lot where the signature green mini waited, you heard how the fans chanted Gavi’s name like a beautiful melody as another goal extended the lead. Another ball hitting the back of the net, another time number thirty scored for Barcelona.
Bathing in the applause, the attention and how needy the girls at the front of the stands tried to reach out, Gavi smiled at the cameras. The curl of his mouth plastered across his face, the burst of happiness faded when the drifting gaze of his deep hazelnut orbs didn’t find your face in the crowd. Empty seats in the secluded section, his head snapped to the coach’s bench to find Pedri. But his best mate was missing too.
Unfortunately, the realization and the negative thoughts forced Gavi into a wave of blinded rage. He knew immediately, he would leave the pitch with another booking — just no one knew if it would be a simple yellow as usual, or a deeply crimson red one.
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soapyghostie · 1 year
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I love Pyramid Head a whole lot, and i think he deserves all the kisses, he literally has to suffer because of other people sins, so i was thinking, there's this big teory that Pyramid Head uses this Pyramid in his head as a punishment, so he has to walk around with it all the time, but Masahiro Ito said he had a face, his words were:
"I didn't design & make Pyramid Head face, but have a image of inside of helmet in those days. It's a binded someone's head with many frames.", soo i was thinking about a very fluffy comfort fic, where after muchhh time convincing Pyramid its ok to talk his helmet off for some time, him and reader can finally cuddle in a completely comfortable way. Please feel free to deny, i love your work and i know this request may be a bit bad, lol! Thank you
Hey! Thank you Anon! I’m so glad you love my work! Plus, this was a great request! There is no such thing as a bad request on my blog. 😊 Hope you enjoy!
Pyramid Head
Unlike all the other monsters in Silent Hill, Pyramid Head was manifested from the guilt and sorrow of the ones who needed to be punished; to remind them of their sins. Moreover, Pyramid Head was never one of the humans that got turned into a monster from Silent Hill’s curse, but was created from a person’s imagination. He pretty much was born with his helmet. 
Pyramid Head has never taken his helmet off before, let alone has seen his actual face. He doesn’t need to. Him being the executioner, his job is to inflict pain on his victims for their wrongdoing. In wearing the helmet, it reminds others of the pain they’ve caused others and the pain that is about to be brought upon them. He loves his job and he’s proud to represent it by wearing his helmet.
It’ll take a lot of convincing for him to take his helmet off. To him, it feels like his actual face; it helps him feel like he belongs; it makes him feel strong, powerful, and masculine. Yes, he knows he has a human body and face; however, it makes him feel insecure to think about it. All the other monsters look nothing like humans, but he is the only monster who does. The helmet makes him less of a human and more of a monster, the scariest one at that. All fear him: monsters and humans alike. He has all the power and control in Silent Hill so why take his helmet off, you know? 🤷‍♀️ 
You have to reassure him. Trust me, it does the trick. You have to remind him that he is no less of a strong, powerful being with his helmet off than with it on. Then again, he’ll still hesitate to take it off. This his is first time taking it off since he’s existed so he is quite nervous. Nevertheless, he’ll do it for you. 🙂 
The day he finally takes his helmet off, praise him. Tell him how handsome he looks. Kiss him all over his face. Pyramid Head will get so flustered: it’s cute. He appreciates that you see him for no less than who he is without his helmet then with it on. He might take it off more often now. Seriously, he didn’t realize how the weight of his helmet was killing his shoulders. 
He’ll show a softer side of himself. You thought he already did have a soft spot for you, but just you wait! This is a side of him no one has ever seen before, not even you. 
Pyramid Head becomes a literal giant man child, always wanting to be held and kissed. He’ll follow you around like a lost puppy everywhere; he wants you to hold his hand and be near you all the time. 
He apologizes a lot for never trusting you with seeing his face. He was just so scared you’d turn him away and think of him as weak. He wants to be big and strong for you, to protect you. Not be weak. 
You have shown him what true love actually is. He never knew feelings until you came along, yet, he still struggled with showing them towards you. However, when you saw his face for the first time, you showed him kindness and love. He doesn’t know how it happened, but it just clicked. He actually felt something. He felt love and he understood it. He understood it was okay to be vulnerable around the ones that truly love you because they’d near judge you and loved you for you. 
You are the light in his dark world. You’ve taught him so much. Before you, all he knew was pain and suffering. Now, he knows kindness and love. He can’t thank you enough and he’ll never take it for granted. Bonus, he loves to take off his helmet now. He feels like he can be more himself than with it on. He sees there is much more to him than being the feared executioner of Silent Hill.
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queenshelby · 6 days
Text
Our Little Secret (Part 46)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers
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A week had passed since your abrupt departure from Los Angeles with your daughter Mara, spending all your savings on an earlier economy class flight to Dublin. 
You had to get away from Cillian as quickly as possible for now, to clear your head, and to decide what your next steps would be. 
Cillian, of course, had begged you to stay while he attended a few more press events and interviews, but you didn't even wait for him to explain himself to you. Immediately after hanging up the phone with Amanda, you had stormed through the hotel suite, bursting into tears silently as you packed a small bag, preparing to leave.
Over the next few days, right after you took the long journey back home with Mara, you struggled to process everything that had happened. Cillian tried to call you over and over again, but you never answered his calls. 
You wanted nothing more than to scream, to cry, to break something—to do anything that would allow you to release the intense pain that he had caused, but you knew that Mara was depending on you.
***
"It's just you and me now babygirl," you whispered into Mara's ear one evening as you tucked her into bed, trying to embrace the role of a single mother bravely. After all, you always knew that this possibility loomed in the background, even when you naively thought that you were destined to be with him forever.
You couldn't believe how blind you had been, allowing yourself to fully invest in someone who had already shown you time and time again that he couldn't be counted on.
You couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at you, promising you a future together, making you feel cherished and loved, only to betray your trust in the most deceitful way.
You felt a hot tear trickle down your cheek as you buried your face into Mara's soft curls. It wasn't fair. You didn't deserve this pain, this heartbreak. But, as you listened to Mara's steady breathing, you knew that you couldn't give in to despair.
"Karma is a real bitch," you then thought to yourself, seeing how Cillian and you had started out as an affair too. He was cheating on his wife with you and now you were the one who was being cheated on. 
The raw pain cut through you like a hot knife, sharp and searing. Cillian's face flashed through your mind, taunting you with the broken promises and lies that only the innocent fall victim to.
Returning to the living room you noticed a vehicle parking outside on the street in front of your little terrace house. It was a small Crolla, a car that was very familiar to you and which belonged to no other than Cillian's sister Siobhan. 
You weren't expecting a visit from her, especially not in the wee hours of the night, but you didn't mind. She was one of the rare people you could count on these days even though she was a member of Cillian's family.
Quickly, you dried your tears and went to open the door. Siobhan stood there with a serious expression on her face.
"Hey," she greeted, but even her warm voice did nothing to mitigate the heavy feeling that pressed onto your heart still. "Can I come in?" she asked, and you stepped aside to let her walk past you.
You noticed that she was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses in her hands. "I figured we could both do with a drink tonight," she added while she placed her possessions on your dining table.
You hesitated for a moment before closing the door and joining her. "You have no idea," you sighed, leaning against the back of one of the chairs.
Siobhan gave you a concerned look before pouring you a generous glass of wine. "Oh, I think I do. I saw Amanda today and, fuck, Cillian didn't even tell me about any of this because, if he had, I would have come to see you sooner Y/N. I am so sorry," she  muttered, exasperated.
"It's okay, really. There was nothing you could have done," you shrugged, sipping on the wine like it was water. It burned your throat as it went down, but it somehow made you feel a little better.
"No, it's not. I know how much this must have hurt you Y/N. My brother can be such an idiot sometimes, but he does love you, you know?" Siobhan told you, causing you to cry and laugh all at the same time.
"If he really loves me then , why did he cheat on me?" you asked, your voice cracking with emotion.
"Because he was hurt when you knocked down his proposal," Siobhan told you, explaining Cillian's turmoil to you. "And he acted impulsively which, really, is no excuse for what he did. It's just an explanation," she told you, but you no longer cared. 
"Well, it doesn't change anything now. I'm done with him," you informed her, your voice shaking a little as the reality set in.
"But-" Siobhan started to protest, but you stopped her.
"No. This is not what I want anymore," you sighed, running a hand through your hair as Mara slept peacefully in her bed upstairs. "I am better of alone and, honestly, our arrangement still stands. He will support me and Mara financially and he will get shared care, just like I had promised him. Nothing more and nothing less,"  you concluded firmly while taking another sip of your wine, watching Siobhan frown concernedly in return.
"You know Y/N, I never gave you enough credit in the past for how mature you actually are, especially for your age. You are much more of an adult than most of my clients and you are certainly much more mature than my almost fifty-year-old brother,"  Siobhan finally shared, but it wasn't enough to stop you from hurting still.
***
The following days passed slowly, with you trying to rebuild yourself and your life. It hurt like hell, to be back in the city that reminded you so much of Cillian and the times the two of you had spent together, but you didn't have much of a choice.
He came over one day to pick up Mara just as you had agreed upon when he came back from LA. Wen he arrived he also wanted to talk to you about what happened but you refused and did not even let him through the door. 
"No Cillian. Like I said in my text message last night, all that matters now is Mara," you told him face to face now that he stood in front of your door. "You can see her three days a week, no nights for now and I do not want any contact with you unless it relates to our child," you continued with a clear, firm voice, making a strict compromise so that he could spend at least a little time with Mara until she was ready to stay at his house over night. 
Cillian nodded and seemed surprisingly accepting of your conditions.
"Okay," he told you as you both stood at the front door of the house for a minute before Cillian finally reached out and gently touched Mara's cheek. 
"Do you want to take her while I get her pram and bag?" you offered to Cillian who, again, nodded silently.  With a heavy heart, you handed Mara over to the man that you loved dearly, but who had betrayed your trust.
Cillian took Mara into his arms and looked down at her happily as she babbled at him, giggling after he spoke her name. "She has grown so much even in those few days," he remarked, his voice thick with emotion. 
"She sure has," you told him. "Now, do you have enough milk in the freezer for her? I left some there the last time I visited you last. It's all dated and labelled, just make sure you heat it up right, okay?"  you added, trying to keep your voice steady and authoritative, even though you wanted nothing more than to break down and weep.
Cillian looked up at you with a pained expression on his face. "I will make sure to do that," he told you, tears welling up in his eyes.
You nodded and turned away from him before he could see the sadness creeping up on you. "Okay Cillian. I expect her back by seven. Don't be late," you said softly before pushing the pram and baby bag on to the front porch.  Cillian took them without a word and stepped outside. He looked at Mara again, a lingering longing in his eyes, a feeling that was all too familiar to you.
You closed the door softly and leant your head against it. The emptiness in the house suddenly felt bigger, suffocating almost. But you had to get used to it now. This was your life from now on.
***
The next few weeks were tough, but you made it through them with the support of Siobhan and your mother as well as your best friend Emma who suggested a night out while Mara had her first sleepover at Cillian's house, which was something that made you panic.
You never not had Mara with you over night, it had always been the two of you, or sometimes even the three of you. But, after careful consideration and speaking with Cillian about it, you finally agreed to it with a certain hesitancy.
As you stepped out of your house, ready to meet Emma for your long-anticipated girls' night, you took a deep breath and tried to remember who you were before Mara entered your life.
The thought caused a wry smile to grace your lips and, with a spring in your step, you continued down the path towards the small car that your friend drove as she picked you up along with some other girls from her class.
They were all about your age, but none of them lived the way you did. You were a single mother living in the suburbs while they were all single and sharing a flat in the city.
They were out partying and hooking up with guys while you were home, changing diapers and reading bedtime stories. They were having the time of their lives, while you often wondered if this was all that life had in store for you.
But as you slipped into the passenger seat of Emma's small car, you felt a sense of excitement that you hadn't experienced in a long time. You were ready to let loose and have some fun, and you knew that Emma and the others would make it an unforgettable night.
"Holy shit, you are looking good," Tina, one of the other girls you still knew from school days, remarked as she climbed into the backseat, and you couldn't help but feel a little boost to your confidence. You thanked her with a smile while Emma glanced at you from the driver seat, smirking triumphantly while you pulled out your phone to text Cillian, ensuring that Mara  was comfortable and okay.
"She will be fine, Y/N. She is at her dad's house, remember? He is old enough to look after her. You need to stop worrying," Emma assured you as she navigated through traffic, making her way into the heart of Dublin, where the bustling nightlife came alive.
"I know, it's just -" you started to mumble but then stopped, letting out a quiet sigh. You couldn't deny the fact that leaving Mara behind on her first sleepover with Cillian was hard. It was unfair, you thought, that parents shouldn't experience the pang of abandonment when it comes to leaving their child behind while Tina chimed in, quickly changing the topic after Emma told you again that Mara would be just fine. 
"Hey Y/N. I am curious. Does he pay for your house and car?"  Tina asked, a hint of jealousy tinging her voice. You weren't close to her, but you knew that, especially after your public appearance at the Oscars, which had now been almost ten weeks ago, many of the girls you knew had been talking about nothing else but you and Cillian. After all, he was super famous now and you had his child and not many women could claim that status.
"Well, yes he does, because I am a student, just like you Tina," you replied, suppressing the irritation in your voice. "And we had a child together, so it seems fair," you justified yourself and feeling a little nervous about exposing too much information and stirring up unnecessary envy among your former classmates.
"I suppose you have it easy then," Tina said, still showing an envy-filled tone in her voice. "My mother never even got child support from my dad,"  she added, causing a heavy silence to fall over the car as Emma glanced at Tina sternly in the rearview mirror.
"Things are different now, Tina. Cillian is -," Emma chastised but, before she could continue, you interrupted her. 
"Can we just stop talking about my ex now and focus on our night out?" you requested, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Emma nodded in agreement and changed the topic, talking about her last date and the awkward ending that it had while the girls in the back seat listened attentively and added their own commentary on the subject, making jokes and trying to make each other laugh.
You tried to focus on the conversation but couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of sadness as you thought about Cillian and the life you had once imagined for yourselves.
You had hoped to grow old together, raising Mara and making memories as a happy little family, but fate had other plans.
Your mind wandered as you entered a crowded dance club, clinging to your drink as you tried to push aside the thoughts that threatened to consume you. The beat of the music pulsed around you, vibrating in your chest as you moved to the rhythm, trying to lose yourself in the seductive sounds filling the air.
But the despair that tugged at your heart wouldn't let you go, no matter how hard you tried to shake it off.
It clung to you like a persistent shadow, a constant reminder of what you had lost, and you pulled out your phone again, texting Cillian, to see whether Mara was fine.
He quickly responded, of course, telling you that she had already fallen asleep and that he was having a great time, spending time with her. It was then, in the dimly lit club, that you realized that this was your new reality, which is when, suddenly, a young attractive man bumped into you, spilling his drink all over your black dress.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you clean this up," he said, sprinting away to the bar and returning with a wad of napkins and a sympathetic smile.
The unexpected kindness in his large, green eyes touched you somewhere deep within your soul, and you couldn't help but feel a tiny spark of warmth and attraction ignite between you.
"Thank you," you murmured as you took the proffered napkins, still feeling the anxious tension of uncertainty in your stomach after receiving Cillian's text about your adorable daughter sleeping soundly in his arms and it was then when he even sent you a photo of her, a gesture which you appreciated. 
Just as you looked at the phone the man nodded with a reassuring smile, his eyes sparkling with interest and curiosity as, at the same time as handling your phone, you nervously tried to dab the spilled liquid from your dress without causing further damage.
"You look like you're having quite the night here," he persisted, attempting to keep up a friendly conversation as you glanced at your phone before putting it back into your handbag. 
"Yes, I haven't been out in a while," you replied, smiling at the stranger's persistence as he still stood there, looking at you. 
"Really?" he asked. "Why?" he asked, genuinely surprised by your admission as you continued to wipe away the residual drink stain on your dress.
"Well, I had a baby -," you began to say before shaking your head, realizing that this must have been the worst pick up line ever.  The man blinked a few times, his eyebrows shooting up towards his unkempt brown hairline, but he didn't falter. Instead, he dug his hands into his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels, a friendly half-smile on his lips.
"You had a baby? For real?"  he inquired inquisitively, maintaining a friendly and interested facial expression. "I mean, you don't look a day over twenty-one," he complimented you.
"Well, I am not," you chuckled. "I am twenty-one, actually," you  confessed, feeling vulnerable and exposed all of a sudden.
But the stranger, who introduced himself as Sean, only seemed more intrigued. "Wow, you had a baby already? That's impressive," he admitted, hoping he hadn't dwelled too much.
You nodded, flustered by the attention. "It's not easy but, hey, life happens," you shrugged, determined to keep it light.
"I assume you don't have kids?" you asked, curious, wondering out loud without considering the fact that this topic might be slightly weird for a twenty-something year old man.
"No , I don't. Not yet anyway," he answered with a small laugh, shaking his head ever so slightly, causing his mop of hair to bounce wildly on his head.
"Well then, I guess I just told you way too much about me, huh?"  you asked, feeling a hint of shame creep up your neck and onto your face.
Sean smiled at you genuinely and kindly, his eyes fixing on yours, a connection forming between you two. He shrugged.
"Not really. I mean, you know, things happen and I -," the man began to say before awkwardly telling you about himself. "I am 27 and just finished a degree in engineering. I only just moved to Dublin a few weeks ago and, uhm, I am single and would really like to buy you a drink, if you let me," he stammered. "Unless, of course, you actually have a man in your life, because you had a baby and stuff, so if the father is around then forget about what I just said,"  he added, catching a whiff of disappointment in his voice.
You smiled and shook your head. "My daughter's father is out of the picture," you told him honestly, softening your eyes as you observed him moving closer to you. 
"Great, so what are you drinking?" he asked and, with that, you knew where this was going.
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