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#because i feel like i have been scolded for not being nice enough or understanding enough about the Plight of The White Ally
knowlesian · 2 years
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okay, i’m not gonna call out names because i think people deserve chances to grow and i’m not assuming any malicious intent, but i also feel a need to answer something addressed to me today, because empathy’s gotta go hand in hand with accountability.
this is why talking about race (in fandom, or otherwise) is often like slamming your face into a brick wall that keeps insisting it’s on your side.
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okay. so i sort of debated how to handle this: i think i’m just gonna quote myself. you may have missed this piece, so hopefully it’ll give context for why i’m not sure exactly what to say, and remain unsure.
i am very sure that until the day i die, i will be doing the hard and frustrating and not super ego-boosting work of diving into the mental dumpster of weird bullshit i was implicitly taught and unpacking it all.
so i know i will breathe my last and i will still have all these racist ideas, rattling around my noggin fucking with how i see the world and how i treat people, even though i don’t know i’m doing the thing. when i talk about people being racist and having implicit bias, i am also talking about me!
because racist is a descriptor, not an insult. and as much as it sucks for me to unpack this shit (don’t let anybody tell you it’s not hard work or that it feels good to do; it’s really hard and it will make you feel very small and gross sometimes) the people i accidentally aim it at deserve me putting in that effort and have it much worse.
so when i’m like, it was racist stede did that? i’m not saying stede is a bad person, and i’m not saying fuck that guy.
i’m saying oh shit this show is SMART, i do that too! it’s me!
so. i don’t know why you posted this and then bounced: i don’t know why you didn’t @ me, if you wanted me to see it and respond.
like... is your issue that i’m talking about race too much? that i’m being mean or unfair when i do it? that i don’t talk enough about how hard it is for white people to think about race, or that i’m not being understanding enough that it sucks to look at people who hurt you and have to consider you might have something in common with them? because i’ve said exactly that, too. you’re right, it’s not fun to do this work, and it is work.
i guess i just don’t understand the purpose, here, or why you’d say all this and not explain what exactly you want from me as a writer to do differently. and if that’s not your goal and i’ve misunderstood, then...  i mean. i guess i remain confused as to what you want me to take away from this, other than “it’s hard to be white, and you have made me feel very uncomfortable about it so i wish you would stop”.
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bluejutdae · 3 months
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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Minho x you
Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin
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genre: friends to lovers
warnings: asshole date, nothing happens but reader thinks her date might follow her home
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This night has been terrible so far. Your friend convinced you to go out with one of her colleagues to get over your crush for Minho, and you knew it was pointless, but she insisted so much you have lost the will to fight. So you wore a nice dress and a minute before you left the apartment, the guy texted you saying there was a change of plans and to meet two hours later and at a different location. Is the dating scene like this for everybody? You haven’t dated anyone for a long time, a bit because of how things ended with your last boyfriend but mostly because of the raging (unreciprocated) crush for Minho.
Minho’s now one of your closest friends, but you never actually gave up on your feelings for him. It’s almost comfortable, safe in a way, to love someone knowing things won’t change but won’t end either.
But for the sake of shutting up your friend, you are now in a very shitty situation. The guy is pretty, you’re mature enough to admit that, but he’s a major asshole. Even ignoring the last minute change of plans, the fact that he arrived 25 minutes later and apparently the new location is a nightclub. His hands have been on you the moment he introduced himself and the more you try to put some distance between you two, the more he’s all over you. You could just leave, that’s true. It’s also true that this guy is very set on never leaving your side and he’s so pushy you’re certain he wouldn’t hesitate to follow you home.
You wonder when Minho is going to be here so you can at least leave the club and have him keep you company, when you feel a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn to find the hand holding you belongs to Minho himself and he’s looking at you with a surly expression, teeth clenched and a frown between his eyebrows. “We’re going home.”
His voice is cold and firm, you’ve never heard him speak to you like that. Your date notices the scene and turns to Minho. “Woah dude, she’s mine tonight.”
Minho’s cold stare rests on the guy and at the same time your friend makes a step to place himself between you and your date. “She’ll never be yours, not tonight, not never. She belongs to me. Dude.” The last word was spat through Minho’s teeth, mocking and a bit cruel.
Words die on the guy’s tongue when Minho gets into his face and says something too quiet for you to hear.
A moment later he’s gently pushing you away and through the crowd, towards the exit.
“Well, that was intense,” you joke when you’re safe on the sidewalk.
“Don’t you ever put yourself into a situation like this. Ever again.” He’s on your face, almost screaming the words at you, anger contorting his face.
You can understand he was worried, but you don’t like the way he’s talking to you.
“Ya, Minho! Do you think I wanted that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t call you so you could scold me! I called you because I trusted you to help me, I know I was in a shitty situation!”
“And yet you still got into this situation!” He rebuts, and in this moment you hate him a little.
Why is he judging you like this? Why is he blaming you? Sure, you were a bit too naive but it’s not like you consciously decided to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.
“This clearly wasn’t what I expected.”
“No? You’re the one who decided to go to a club with a man you didn’t know. And you came alone! Was bringing a friend too easy?”
“Fuck you, Minho!”
You stalk away, towards the direction of the bus stop. Why is he mad at you now? He’s never been mean or cruel to you, despite what lots of people say about him, he’s a caring friend.
You can hear his footsteps getting close and you almost laugh at the thought that comes to your mind: you are always so focused on him, you can now recognize his footsteps.
“I parked in the other direction.”
“Then go the other direction. I don’t need you here. Sorry I bothered you. I won’t be your problem anymore.”
“You are my problem.”
“Oh, so I really am a problem to you.” You can believe him. All this because he had to come get you? You didn’t think it’d be such a hassle.
“Yes. You’ve been my problem since I met you.”
“You’re being so fucking cruel tonight, Minho.”
“I am not- can you stop walking?” He asks, sounding exasperated. You stop and face him, one hand on your hip and your lips pursed in disapproval. “So you can tell me more about how I’m a problem?”
“I didn’t say a problem.”
“You said exac-“
“I said MY problem! Emphasis on my. Because you’re not other people’s problem. And I don’t want you to belong to other guys, don’t want them to call you theirs! I want you to be mine.”
You stare at him for half a minute, silent and still. Putting aside the fact that he’s repeating the fact that you’re a problem, you try to read between the lines.
“Is this a fucked up way to tell me you have feeling for me?”
“Yes.”
This is ridiculous. Really ridiculous. Your crush has feelings for you. And the most backwards way of confessing. Well, considering he is Minho, it’s pretty in character for him. Still ridiculous, though.
“I didn’t know you decided to go on dates.” He says it like a second thought.
“I didn’t.”
“You were on a date.”
“Doesn’t mean I decided to go on dates.”
“Means exactly that.”
“Jesus, Minho. Can you ever drop something?”
“Not when it’s about you.”
This asshole. How can you find his otherwise annoying answers amusing?
“My friend insisted so much that she wore me down, so I accepted this date with her colleague. So, as I said, I haven’t decided to go on dates.”
“Good.”
“You can never be normal, uh? Always with a weird answer.”
“You like weird.”
“I do.”
“You’re normal. I like normal.”
He likes normal, and he likes you. And he tells you so in a Minho way at least another ten times in the following minutes, during your way home.
You say goodbye and you’re about to get out of the car, when he puts his hand on your arm, an hesitant expression on his face. “No more other guys, right?”
You smile softly at him. “No more other guys. There hasn’t really been another guy since I met you.”
His smile is all you need.
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hwayangyeon · 1 year
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NSFW gamer jake x gamer reader // you and jake play league together and argue a lot but somehow you end up on his lap // teasing, a lot touching, public bathroom sex (again) // 1.2k words
it's a little goofy // you don't have to know anything about league // not much about penetraton just a lot of touching // viego is a league character
"jesus, it's you again," you saw a familiar nickname in the lobby, "try not to lose for once?"
it's pretty reasonable for you two to end up on the same team since not so many people play at this hour. you recognize some of the players from previous matches, but only seeing this one makes you want to quit. can he ever get on the enemy team? or better, can he stop coming to this pc room?
it might be late, but after you finish your night shift, it's the perfect time for you to play. it's usually just the two of you and some kids watching porn in the back, hiding from their mothers. it's nice and quiet, well, when you don't flame each other.
"and why would you ban my champion?" the guy sitting across from you looked at you, tired. he's gotten used to you being the worst teammate he's ever had to deal with.
"so you don't suck at it. play something better."
"bitch."
"asshole."
it did not start well for your team. the support forgot to buy items, mid was afk for four minutes and you are losing your own lane. it's going to be really hard to turn it around, the enemy team is too far ahead.
"can you ever come top? the enemy jungler has ganked me eight times already, what the fuck have you been doing?" you looked over your screen.
"fuck off. i stole two dragons if you haven't noticed," his eyes focused on the game.
"i don't care about the dragons, everyone is fed. what's a dragon going to change? do something."
"don't feed then. stop whining and learn how to play, bitch."
he's too concentrated for a match going this bad. his brows furrowed, bottom lip fighting for its life between his sharp teeth. they'd probably look nice if he ever smiled. no wonder he has nothing to smile about in his life if he always plays this badly. oh shit, you're back in the game.
after successfully destroying towers and going as far as the enemy inhibitors, the game eventually ends with a red, humiliating text appearing on your screen. DEFEAT.
the room gets filled with all sorts of insults.
"please, delete your account," you take off your headset and stand up. enough for today. you don't like ending with a loss but knowing your luck you'd get placed with him again.
"shut up. i only lose whenever i play with you," he points his finger at you, "come, see my match history," he then signals for you to look at his screen, his eye wide, shocked from you having the audacity to flame him.
you walk around the desk and move in his direction, "yeah because you're not used to the high e–"
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CAN YOU TWO FINALLY SHUT UP?" you hear the owner yell behind you, it scares the shit out of you making you trip over a chair and lose balance. jake grabs your hips and you end up on his lap. not that he cares if you fell on the ground, it was an instinct.
you want to stand up as soon as you sit, but the man continues and you're taken aback, "YOU KEEP YELLING AT EACH OTHER, EVEN THE GUYS WATCHING PORN AREN'T AS LOUD AS YOU. IF YOU DON'T SHUT YOUR MOUTHS I'M GONNA KICK YOU OUT."
you both stay silent because of the shock. you feel like two kids being scolded for making noise past curfew.
you want to stand up again but the man keeps going, "look, guys, i'm sorry for lashing out at you. it's just my wife, she's leaving me," his tone unexpectedly changes.
you're frozen, not fully acknowledging the position you're in. jake's left hand is still on your hip.
"like, i can't understand why would she do that to me," the man closes his eyes and sighs. jake's fingers slowly climb under the hem of your shirt. they're asking for permission and you're not denying it.
"we've been together for twenty years..." you feel his warm touch on your skin, it makes you straighten up a little.
"we were perfect together! do you guys get me?" he suddenly asks you and you both nod without thinking, jake's hand immediately stops as if you were caught cheating on a test.
"and she wants to take the kids too! ridiculous..." the man looks away from you as if he was looking for a solution to end his misery. jake resumes his movement. he squeezes your waist softly, his fingers sinking into your flesh.
"no, i can't allow her to do that... i'm their father," his thumb making its way lower, pressing on your back dimple, causing you to arch. shit, that's exactly where guys you hook up with put their hands when they're fucking you.
"they must live with me," his touch is so gentle, yet you're melting. it feels like he's sculpting your body as if you were made out of clay.
"have i signed a prenup? i can't have her take the house," his hand travels to your abdomen, pushing you back lightly so you lean back on his chest, relaxing your tensed-up body. he has so much control over you.
"i built it with my own hands!" you can feel him staring at your side profile, probably smirking seeing how worked up he got you. but you can't look at him, not with that red blush on your face.
"that bitch... i should've seen this coming. my mother was right about her," your head falls back to touch his, he gets a little carried away because of the sweet scent of your hair, it makes him lean against you. fuck, he smells good for a league player too.
"anyway," the man finally finishes his monologue, "YOU IN THE BACK, SHUT UP!" he completely ignores you and goes to yell at the kids for being noisy.
"you could've just said you were craving my attention," the guy behind you whispers into your ear.
———
"fuck," jake pins you onto the bathroom stall, your back is starting to hurt from you pushing each other at the walls, not being able to get enough of yourselves, "i'm close."
he grabs your ass and holds you up, his face buried in your neck, biting it because of how amazing his dick feels inside you. his release is almost there too.
your hands lost in his hair, trying to bring him even closer. some people say there is a fine line between love and hate, but it's even thinner between hate and lust.
"jake!" your moan announces your climax. oh it feels so good for him, having you scream his name after how you belittled his gaming skills.
he follows you right after and helps you stand on your own, but he doesn't pull out yet.
"i can go another round," his voice breathy, lips glistening with saliva he produced while kissing your neck. his hair completely messy, thanks to you.
"how can you be this good at fucking but suck so bad at viego, jake 123?"
after hotel.
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soapyghostie · 3 months
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hii ^_^ can you do slasher hcs, can be anyone you choose, with a child!Reader (platonic ofc) suddenly saying a bad word infront of them? Lol idk i just thought that it would be a funny scenario, you dont have to do it if u dont want to btw :3 have a nice day!
Since this was a free-bee, I took the chance to write for a couple slashers I haven’t gotten a chance to write for yet. One of them is one I’ve written for multiple times already, but I know how y'all are and that Michael Myers content. Y’all will eat that shit up. Well anyway, enjoy!
Charles ‘Chucky’ Lee Ray
Chucky, known for his foul-mouthed and sarcastic personality, would most definitely burst into a fit of maniacal laughter upon hearing the inappropriate language that just came out of your mouth. He finds the situation very amusing, secretly proud of your choice of words. He used to think you were a deadbeat child, but it seems you are starting to take after him in terms of mischief and a devil-may-care attitude. Maybe he’ll give you a shot.
He’d playfully scold you for stealing the spotlight, jokingly reminding you that he’s the only one allowed to say those kinds of words while giving you a wink. He’s pretending to act like a normal parent would if their child cursed so Tiffany doesn’t throw dishes at his head again for god knows what he did beforehand. Anyways, besides the friendly reminder to be careful about where and when to use foul language, Chucky feels a sense of camaraderie in their rebellious spirit that he’s never expressed before. Is this care and kindness he feels? It can’t be! He’s an evil serial killer with no feelings for anyone! Just between you and me, he did care about you in his own way from the beginning. He just hates to admit it and ignored the feeling for a long time. 
Chucky giving you lessons in creative cursing is a must: in a private setting of course. He doesn’t want to have to deal with Tiffany’s scolding about encouraging and, even worse, teaching you such bad behavior. However, if the language goes too far (cursing Tiffany out), Chucky will actually draw a line and sternly explain the importance of knowing when and where such language is appropriate.
Stu Macher
Stu, being the laid-back and humorous person he is, most likely burst out into a fit of laughter initially, thinking it’s just a child’s innocent mistake. However, he’s taken aback. He was not expecting to hear such foul language come out of your mouth and especially wasn’t ready for it since he’s normally making the crude jokes himself rather than hearing it from a child. 
Stu would exchange an amused glance and playfully scold you, reminding you that it’s not appropriate to use such language, especially in front of company. However, Stu may share a few inappropriate jokes of his own, trying to bond with you through your humor. God dammit Stu! Don’t be a bad influence like Chucky is! 
If you continue to use inappropriate language, Stu will employ a more serious tone and discuss the consequences of your behavior. If you don’t listen to him after that (I don’t know how you could not because Stu never serious), Stu will probably be like, “Well what the fuck! Who cares?” and will join in and playfully participate with you. 
Michael Myers
Michael would remain expressionless and unreactive to hearing you say the inappropriate word. He will convey his disapproval through his body language though, such as a stern gaze or a slow shake of his head. You pick up on these cues, going from comical and bright to eerie and uncomfortable, understanding that your words are unacceptable.
Michael does expect immediate compliance, and you are expected to correct your behavior under his imposing presence. In rare cases, Michael will intervene if your behavior becomes continuous and punish you, such as grounding you or giving you a whoopin, to teach you a lesson about the consequences of your behavior. 
Once Michael decides you’ve been punished long enough, if you got the ‘your grounded to your room’ punishment, he’ll make his way to your room and have a conversation with you to instill the importance of respectful behavior. You two end up having a good talk, ending with you promising to use more appropriate language from here on out and Michael promising to get you a tub of ice cream on his next outing if you have good behavior.
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peaachypie · 8 months
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Payback
Warning :
(cnc, breeding kink, uniform/masked kink, dark!Miguel, p in V, cunnilingus, lactation kink, infidelity and i think that it)
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" Coach Terry has a wife ?"
Miguel raise his head, stopping what he was working on.
" mh mh ! Her name is [Y/N], she is so nice, she has a kid too ! He does a lot of.... jokes about it"
" jokes ?"
" yeah, when we don't make enough point he says something like : if i knew kid will shoot that bad i wouldn't have use this excuse to save my marriage ! "
" ... what the..."
" I don't really understand but [Y/N] is so nice with us ... and pretty !"
Gabriella says happily, preparing her bag for her soccer training.
" with his face ? She can't be that pretty."
He says with a unamused chuckle.
" dad ! Don't be a meanie ! "
She scolds him with a frown.
" i'm just being honest."
He shrugs.
" you're just jealous "
She hum with a confident smile, Miguel groan slightly but with a soft smile. He doesn't take it in a wrong way.
" shut your mouth and eat."
" aye !"
She quickly stuff her mouth with food as the big man let out a sigh.
~~
Coming out of his car, Miguel give Gabi her bag as she run out to the changing room.
He walks slowly toward the bleachers.
" um excuse me "
He raise his eyes away from his phone with a slight annoyed stare, he isn't the social type of man. But his hard face quickly fade away as your sigh. He looks up and down at you, taking a good look on your hair, face and body. Especialy body.
" yes ?"
He answers finaly, putting away his phone.
You smile kindly at him. He sees your mouth open to talk but no sound come to his ears. Too focus on staring at you.
How could Terry pull a beautifull woman like you ?
Did you really have a child with this ... thing ?
Does your nipple are hard because of the wind or ?
What ?
He frown at his own mind comment.
He isn't the type of asking himself that, or even staring at a woman body. He doesn't feel guitly too long. He couldn't stop looking at you, he couldn't stop thinking on the fact that he is so much better than Terry.
He could make you scream his name, in every position, everywhere.
He takes a deep breath, he could feel his cock throbbing against his legs.
Dammit. It's been a while since he wanted someone that bad, and he isn't really patient about those thing.
He want you so bad, he want to see you cry on his cock. He want to see you beg for his cock.
The training start and quickly come to an end. His eyes switching to Gabriella then to you. Your ass seem so soft, and your breast so full of milk. He just want to relieve you by sucking your nipple.
He groan.
" fuck..."
~~
23:05 p.m
Gabriella was already in bed, everything was calm until the city needed him, well the city needed Spiderman.
He wasn't really in the mood, he wasn't known for being the " friendly neighborhood spiderman " .
His duty end quickly, beating up vilains wasn't what he prefer to do but it took off your body out of his mind.
He swing around the building before stopping somewhere high. Looking around until he see someone getting in trouble.
You.
He doesn't have any spidersense but if he had one, it would have been so excited right now.
" please ! Someone help ! "
You cry out at someone snatch your purse out of your hand. The vilain didn't run away, too slow for the hero who catch him easily with his web.
Miguel goes grab the purse, not without a dead stare and an agressive behavior.
He slowly goes to you, for you it was nothing.
For him, he was just holding himself from slamming you against the wall and pulling down your pantie down your legs.
" thanks you so much spiderman ..."
You smile to the masked hero, with a gratitude smile.
He keep his eyes on you.
Your tears.
He wasn't listening to his mind anymore, he doesn't care anymore.
" let me take you back to your place."
He goes to you and pick you up in his arm, shooting a web and flying around the city toward your apartment.
Opening the window was the easiest part of this. Putting back on your legs, you turn to him.
" thanks you, you're so-"
" nothing come for free."
He says in a hard voice.
" what ?"
" I need a payback. That fair for what i do in the city. Dont you think ?"
" but... i don't have any money"
" don't worry princesa."
He grab your face with his finger. Holding you.
" i'm not asking for money."
Your eyes widden at his word. One blink was enough to see how fast he was to ripped your dress in a half. You let out a whine as your breast are now exposed to the masked man.
" w...wait ! I ... i have a husband ! And-"
" and ? You want me to keep saving the city don't you ? Who knows maybe your husband will need my help."
You open your mouth to repost but the only sound who come out is a squeak as the hero deprograms his mask over his nose to take a lick on your hardden nipple. You try to move away from his grip, but Miguel hold you close against him. A second moan escape your lips as he take one of your nipple in his mouth, sucking and slighting bitting it. He let out a growl when the warm milk run down his throat.
He never felt this tight in his costume before.
Your hand stay on his shoulder, trying to push him without really trying ... you could do more than that. Was it the fear ?
You close your eyes, your legs shaking a bit as he keep the nipple in his mouth without forgetting the other, playing with it before giving each little buttons a lick.
You didn't dare open your eyes, fighting yourself not to ask for more, or to make too much noise about your forbidden pleasure.
The next thing you could feel was the pillow on your face when he throw you on the bed. Your stomach on the mattress and your legs spread on the edge of the bed.
" what are you ...! No !"
But he didn't listen, raising your dress over your ass. Kneeling in front of your private area, taking a smell on your pantie making your squirm.
He waited for this for so long, he though of this for so long everytime he would jerk off thinking of you. Moving your pantie to the side, his tongue find quickly the way toward your clit. Licking and sucking on it as you bite on your pillow. Tears falling down your cheek as he eat you out like a starved man. His tongue moving inside your gummy wall, sucking up your juice. Your wetness dripping under his chin.
" p...please...haangh...s...stop...."
You whisper quietly, to give yourself good conscience but not wanted it to end either.
" i...i'm sorry Ter...haaah...!"
You let out a scream when he start playing again with the little budge of nerves.
Turning your eyes to him, you looked at him.
Miguel was kneeling in front of your pussy, sucking it while moving his hand up and down his throbbing cock. Precum coming out his urethra.
It was so big, too big.
He get up again, slidding down your pantie on your ankle. Teasing your wet hole with his red tip.
You should scream, but you just press the pillow harder against your mouth.
He spread your pussy lips with one hand, the other holding his cock in front of your entrance.
" Fuck ... look at that, this pretty pussy all wet for me ... you were waiting for this uh ? Someone with a big cock to fill you up properly ? You wanted it, you waited to be fuck like a slut."
His voice is strict and hard, making your pussy clench on nothing. He let out a dark chuckle out of his lips. Pressing the tip at your entrance before slidding inside without putting force.
He groan between his teeth as you let out a moan in the pillow.
He didn't wait for you to get used to his shape. Putting his rough hand on your hips and pouding inside you like a beast.
You cry on the pillow.
" sorrysorrysorry...i'm...hanh ! Sorry...ha...haa...!"
Do you apologize for your infidelity or for loving it a bit too much ?
The wet sound of your pussy being filled up by the hero are the only sound filling the room. Tears falling just like your wetness down your legs.
You could feel the knot inside you getting bigger as he does firm circle around your puffy clit.
" taking me so well princesa..."
He groan, a mix of whimper and a growl.
" taking my cock so well ... is it better than your husband ? Stop apologizing and answers."
An hard slap on your ass wake you up from your bubble of pleasure.
" pleasepleaseplease ...!"
" are you begging me to stop or to cum ?"
" please...'me cum...! Ha...aaa...f...feels good...!"
" yeah ... it does feels good uh ? You want to cum uh ? Clenching around me like if you don't want me to take it out. You want me to make you a momma again ?"
" pleaseplease...'anna be a mom again..."
You cry out, your mind foggy. It was too much, the thrust, the circle around your clit.
Your eyes rolled back to your head as your legs start shaking. The knot in your stomach exploding in a powerfull orgasm.
Miguel groan, he was holding himself for too long. How was he suppose to hold when your pussy feel so tight around his cock ? He groan one last time before filling your womb full of his cum. He stay inside for a few minute before take a step back. Watching his semence dripping out your pussy.
" that a good girl. You did good for me."
He bend over to you, taking your hair to raise your head at him.
" that pussy is mine now."
You nod, obedient.
He was so violent, as if he wanted to mold your pussy to his shape.
He put a kiss on your forehead before putting you to bed, stroking your hair for a few second, then leaving quickly before your husband comes back.
~~
" dad ?"
Gabriella looks at him.
" yes ?"
He raise his eyes to his daughter.
" Coach Terry was angry today."
" was he ?"
" he said [Y/N] doesn't want to be in the same room as him, and that he knew his marriage was bulls-"
" don't you dare say the word."
" ... oke"
Gabriella pout before going back to her room.
Miguel turn back his eyes to what he was working on.
I should reward her for that. Seem like her pussy is really mine now.
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heartsoji · 1 year
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falling in love with your roommate, suna rintaro
roommates to lovers
a/n: i haven't read the manga so i don't rly know anything abt rin's fam situation - sorry if any info is incorrect loll also this is more of like a college au?? idk if rin went to college but here it is
a/n pt. 2: i kinda switch between using rin and suna sorry
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"rintaro!"
"what?"
"aren't you tired of living in my home, still? you're 21! i'm sure all of your friends have moved out already, right? most of them probably moved out at 18, but you haven't budged an inch!" mrs. suna scolded.
"yeah, yeah, pipe down, mom. i'll move out soon, i promise."
"no! it was fine that you stayed home for your freshman year of college, and i thought that you'd start being independent for your sophomore year, but you're still completely dependent on us! you don't cook, buy groceries, clean, or do any work around here! what are you going to do when you've graduated and you don't know how to run a washing machine?"
"yes, yes, i'm sorry."
"and i was very understanding of the fact that you didn't want to move into a dorm, but aren't you tired of commuting hours away when you could just get a closer apartment?"
"mhm, mhm."
she sighed. "rintaro, you know im only saying this because i care about you. i want you to be independent and strong, you know?"
"yep. i just booked an apartment tour via online."
"and i- huh?"
yeah.
soon after he decided the apartment was in good enough condition to be living in, he rented it out and moved in.
on his moving day, he met you.
"hi! you're.. suna rintaro, right? sorry i wasn't there on your tour day. i'm your new roommate, l/n! nice to meet you." you said, a friendly smile on your features.
stoically, suna replied, "good to meet you."
at first, you and suna kinda kept to yourselves. you were polite to each other, of course, but there wasn't much talking, only coexisting.
that is, until you discovered his grocery bills.
"$18... you've been surviving on $18?!" you looked at him in shock.
"yeah. is that weird?"
"damn right it is! what are you even buying?"
"well.. i don't know how to cook anything, so i mostly order door dash. my grocery bill is from instant ramen, chuppets, eggs, and milk."
you stare at him blankly.
"you've been eating nothing but door dash, instant ramen, candy, eggs, and milk for the past 2 months?"
"yeah."
this guy.
he just stands there awkwardly at you laugh at him.
from then on, you two become closer.
you taught him basic recipes to make using groceries you taught him to buy, (imagine his shock when his bill came out to be like $60.. and you were like "bro that's normal") you taught him how to use a washing machine, ("oh, so you put the detergent in this compartment..") etc. just basic household chores, but he was so impressed.
eventually, you two stopped being friendly roommates and just became friends.
he was a good listener. you'd rant to him about your problems, no matter how insignificant, and he'd listen to you carefully, and you never felt like your problems were stupid whenever you talked to him.
you two started hanging out a lot. you'd study together at cafes, go to amusement parks on weekends, and just chill at home together.
and as much as you hated to admit it, you had started developing feelings for your roomie.
i mean, how could you not? he was tall, handsome, kind, funny, cheeky, and it certainly helped that you got to see him all tired in the mornings.
you didn't really know if he felt the same way, but if he did, he was a real bitch, because at some point, your relationship became kind of flirty, and he'd give you butterflies on a daily basis.
you two would watch scary movies and he'd let you cling to him, giving your terrified features a teasey smile every now and then.
he'd walk around the apartment with his toned abs out, and his sweats dangerously low on his hips.
when you guys went on walks, he'd give you his hoodie if it got cold.
whenever you'd go on long rants, he'd just stare at your face with love in his eyes. "and then i-what is it, rin?" "nothing, pretty."
like sir you can't just do that. you're too handsome to do that without risk of heart explosion.
then, one day, unexpectedly, he popped the question.
you two were watching a cheesy romcom for the 5th time, sharing a pot of instant ramen, and at the same moment that the male lead said to the female lead, "i like you. a lot. i have for a while now," rin did too.
it wasn't grand.
it wasn't loud.
it wasn't annoying.
you weren't even sure if he meant it.
but when you saw him looking at you, nervous, awaiting a response, you knew he did.
so, at the same time the female lead said, "me too," you did too.
then, with the cheesy romantic music playing in the back, you guys gave each other cheesy smiles, and he planted a cheesy peck on your cheek.
it was subtle.
it was sweet.
it was cheesy.
it was familiar.
it was uncharacteristically romantic and sentimental.
it was just like how your future relationship with your roomie and best friend, suna rintaro, was going to be.
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arabellasleopardcoat · 10 months
Note
Harwin Strong x reader = well-fucked. (pleaseee?)
Lemon Cake (Harwin Strong x Reader)
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Summary: Harwin’s wife is a tough crowd.
Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Fake orgasm, then a real one. Communication with your partner is sexy. Talks of sweets because I am starving.
A/N: This has been sitting in my inbox for a long time, and I was thinking of writing a sex marathon for it, but then I had this thought… What about a reader that struggles to orgasm? That’s common for women. I thought that Harwin would be the one who cares the most out of all the HOTD men.
You do not come to the marriage bed an innocent. You are a noble girl from The Reach, and so, no expense was spared for your education. Your Lady Mother had made sure you came prepared.
So that’s why, in the middle of the act, as your new Lord Husband pushes and grunts, rocking his hips against yours, you suddenly clench down. You clench and unclench, and give a few undignified noises, and then go limp in his arms.
Pulling back from you, Ser Harwin, or just Harwin, as he has asked you to call him, looks perplexed.
You grin. You must have done well if he looks so amazed. Remembering your Lady Mother's advice, you smile at him.
“Thank you. That felt nice.”
“I am afraid…” Harwin frowns. “Did you… Um. Was that supposed to be…?”
Perhaps he needs help. Perhaps no other woman had done that for him, although you knew it was likely Harwin had his first time with a whore, and they were much better at pretending than you were.
“I finished. I had a great time, husband. You should be proud of yourself.” You smile at him, trying to get it to not sound rehearsed.
You had not, in fact, had a great time. It had been mostly an uncomfortable time. You weren’t totally lying, either. Some of his earlier caresses had been pleasant. But no matter how much he had prepared you for it, the breach of your maidenhead had hurt. Your body felt like it was not meant to stretch that way.
Then, you were too in your head to properly enjoy it, wondering if you were pleasing him. No matter if he was trying his best to please you, you were thinking about how your body looked, how you sounded. You just wanted him to be happy.
Harwin had been a wonderful betrothed. Calm, gentle and reassuring. He had taken time listening to you and getting to know you. Despite being very different from you, he had partaken in your hobbies and interests, to get closer to you. You felt he deserved a reward for it, something you could give to him in exchange for his kindness.
Hence, the false peak. Your Lady Mother had told you that men liked that sort of thing. They felt proud, when they could boast about how good they made their ladies feel. And men were less likely to stray when they found their wives fun to bed. You intended to be a joy.
“My lady.” Harwin pulled out of your body. You frowned, confused. “You certainly did not.”
“Yes, I did.” Your voice is gentle. Perhaps he needs extra reassurance. You have no problem feeding his ego, considering he has been really nice to you since you were engaged. “It was wonderful.”
“You did not. I will not ask you why you felt the need to fake it, but I will ask that you do not lie to me.” His tone is stern. You wrap yourself with the sheets, like a scolded child. Harwin stays silent for a moment, before placing a hand on your back. “Did you really enjoy yourself, or are you telling me what you think I want to hear?”
“I was…”
“Be honest, wife. Remember your vows.” He interrupts, before you can think of a better lie. Harwin has a harsh tone that makes you understand exactly why he was made Commander of the Citywatch. You decide to drop the pretense, then.
The two of you don’t know each other well enough for you to know if it is safe to keep lying. Is Harwin good at catching lies? Is he observant? You don’t know. And in those cases, instead of digging a deeper hole, honesty tends to be the best policy.
“I wanted you to be happy, and proud.” Your tone is soft, still facing away from him. He lays down behind you, spooning you, and presses a kiss to your nape.
It’s a strange feeling. This was not how your wedding night was supposed to go. You had expected physical closeness and intimacy, but not this kind.
“I am certainly not.” But despite the harsh words, Harwin rubs his nose against your nape, sweetly. “Did you enjoy any of it?”
His tone is genuine. Curious, and not scolding. Perhaps, even the slightest bit guilty.
You are not sure of how to put it. It’s also not something you feel comfortable discussing. You are thankful for the fact that your back is to him, and he can’t see your expression. It takes you a while to have the courage to speak.
“I did, at first. But when you… When you entered me, it hurt. It was pleasant, I guess, after a while, but not really… Groundbreaking.”
It’s so awkward to say. You know this is not proper conversation, not even for a wife and a husband. The act is not meant to cause you any pleasure. It’s meant for Harwin to enjoy and to give you children. No more.
“Oh?” But Harwin doesn’t sound angry or scandalized. His tone is one of intrigue. You can feel his lips curling into a smile against the skin of your nape. “Do tell.”
You wonder how you could possibly explain. It finally occurs to you. You can compare it to something he will understand.
“It was like having a cake. Not a lemon cake, just a plain cake. Good, just not…”
Harwin chuckles, making you laugh too. The feel of the little huffs of air he lets up against your neck is quite ticklish.
“I get it. But I don't need you to fake your pleasure. I rather know I am not doing it right.”
“Is there a way for it to be enjoyable?” You look at him, over your shoulder. Curious, this time. If it was some other man, one less kind, you wouldn’t ask. “A right way?”
“Let me teach you.” Harwin whispers in your ear. His hands start mapping over your body. He caresses your neck, then your chest. His hands cup your breasts, softly massaging them.
It feels like before. Good. Warm. Arousal slowly starts to make all your hairs stand on end, breasts getting heavier, center going slick. Almost unaware of it, you moan. You can tell the situation is affecting Harwin too. His hardness, which had softened while you were cuddling, is back with a vengeance. It presses insistently against your behind.
Harwin trails a hand over your stomach, palm wide and warm. He lifts one of your legs, so it rests on his thigh, leaving you open to him. You sigh, sweetly.
“Like that?” He asks you, before lowering his hand towards something that makes you feel like you are on fire. His thumb taps lightly at it, and you moan. “That’s your pearl. If you rub it, it feels good.”
“Yes. Just like that.” Your head lolls over his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It suddenly isn’t enough. “The… Could you…?”
“Tell me.” Harwin kisses your jaw. “I want honest opinions.”
“Take your shirt off.” As Harwin shifts to comply with your orders, you notice he is hard again, poking at your lower back. “And… Um. Could we try again?”
“Try what?” He rubs softly at your pearl, making you mewl near his ear. Harwin chuckles, darkly.
You stare at him over your shoulder. You feel so embarrassed, you wish the earth would open and swallow you whole. Harwin grins, and does absolutely nothing. Even the fingers he has on your pearl stop.
“I want you inside me.” You finally say, when just being held starts being too little for you.
“Are you sure?” He presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers lowering towards your entrance. As soon as his hands are moving again, your hips buck against them, impatiently.
“You said there was a way for it to be pleasant. I want that. Show me.” Your voice comes out a little breathless.
“You are a wonder.” Harwin kisses you, softly. “My brave, gorgeous girl. I am so sorry for what happened before.”
“It’s alright.” But just as you are speaking, you feel him lining the two of you up. You do your best effort not to tense up or expect pain. Your words melt into a soft sigh as Harwin enters you.
Just as he did before, he stays still. The stretch is not nearly as uncomfortable as it used to be, but it’s still quite considerable. You doubt you will ever get used to his size. It feels as if he is pinning you into place. A bit overwhelmed, you search for his hand for reassurance.
“I was a bit overeager, before.” Harwin kisses your temple. “I wanted you so much, I wasn’t paying the attention you deserve.”
His hand caresses your ribs, softly. It tickles, and you can’t help but laugh. It prompts a chain reaction. Your laughter makes you clench up, which makes him groan and makes you laugh even more.
“That’s flattering.”
Your laughter buys you a much-needed respite. No longer does it feel like you are being pulled apart. Still, Harwin’s sad puppy look gets to you.
“I was too in my head. Just not in the moment.” You explain, not wanting him to feel bad about it. Because it’s the truth. You were the one who decided to fake a peak when there was no need for it. You have heard many ladies cried and yelled during their wedding nights, and their husbands didn’t even bat an eyelash. Harwin was not that kind of man. Had you been truly suffering, from what you had learned about him, he would have stopped.
If you had just allowed your face to show its true emotions, you were sure Harwin would have done something. But you had been too embarrassed and too caught up on making it good for him.
“I can keep you grounded, if you wish.” Harwin teases, kissing your cheek. His hips roll gently against yours, as if searching for something. Something he manages to find because you nearly jump from his arms when he touches something inside you that makes you see stars. “There?”
“There.”
He hugs you from behind, keeping the angle of his hips. This time, is more gentle, but much more precise. It feels good. Once again, it feels pleasant. Good. But nothing is happening. You start to get anxious. Why can’t you just get there? Will Harwin get bored with trying to indulge you? You would rather not be a burden to him, or get in between him and his pleasure. Perhaps it’s just not for you.
Harwin pulls you in for a kiss, without stopping the rocking of his hips.
“Are you still with me?”
You look at him, a little sad. You promised to be truthful, but you would rather not hurt his feelings. He is trying hard to please you, you can feel it. But it’s just not working.
“No. I am so sorry, husband. I am really trying, just…”
“That’s alright. Do you want me to stop?” Harwin kisses your cheek, not sounding too hurt. You risk a peek at his expression. His face is calm, encouraging, even.
“No.” You mutter. It comes out a little too sad because he boops your nose, making you smile on reflex.
“Here. Let me…” Harwin shifts you, from your side to sitting on top of him. The suddenness of the movement makes you yelp. “Use me.”
“What?” You cannot believe your ears. Hesitantly, you place a hand on his chest, bracing yourself. He smiles up at you, encouragingly.
“For your pleasure. Do what feels right. And if your thighs get tired, or your hips feel tight, tell me. I’ll help you.”
“I feel silly.” You complain, grabbing at his member. It feels warm and slick in your hand. Harwin makes a small noise at the contact, and you smile, sinking down on him.
It feels different immediately. It’s both deeper and increasingly intimate. But you feel self-conscious, staring him right in the eyes. There is no way you will be able to fake your pleasure now, not with his eyes on yours.
Shyly, you turn your head away from him.
“Don’t. You look gorgeous. The prettiest woman I have ever seen. “ His hand is gentle against your cheek, encouraging you to look him in the eye.
Harwin smiles softly. You smile back. And then, you arch your hips, searching for the right angle. He watches you, eager to learn how to please you. And you watch right back.
His face, going slack in pleasure. The way he grunts when you slowly get up and down, rocking your hips just so to get friction on your pearl. The way sweat starts to gather at his temples, making his hair stick down. It fills you with a secret thrill, pleasing him.
You want, no, need more. You rub at your pearl, yet it feels too rough to be enjoyable. Almost too dry. You whine. Harwin catches the hint immediately. He takes your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm, softly, before taking two of your fingers into his mouth. You startle a little, both by the contrast between the lewd action and the tenderness he treats you with, and how much into it he seems to be.
Harwin releases your fingers with a wet pop, giving you a naughty grin. You don’t need any further prompting. You feel almost uncomfortably wet now, after his display, but you still use the fingers he sucked to rub at your pearl.
It’s as if you are burning up. You are hot with need, thighs clenching and stomach tensing in preparation for something. Arousal thrums on your nerves, echoes in your bones. You are so close, a wave just about to crash against the shore.
Your eyes fall closed. It’s an impossible thing, you know. But you swear you can feel your pulse, beating under your fingertips, in that tight little bundle of nerves. You are starting to get tired, and you cling to Harwin’s shoulders desperately.
“That's it. Just like that, love. You are doing so good for me. Just a bit more.” His hand rubs your flank, softly. He is trying to encourage you, but you want to scream out in frustration. You are so close.
You grunt, thighs burning with exertion. It makes your rhythm falter. You sob.
“You can do it. Give it to me.” But you clearly can’t. Not on your own. So Harwin plants his hips and thrusts, aiding you along.
You moan loudly.
“Like that. More.”
He is quick to obey, helping you bounce up and down. As you finally, finally reach the peak both of you have worked so hard for, you lean in and kiss him.
“I love you.” And it's glorious. The best feeling in the world, warm in your stomach, body taut from head to toe. The wave finally crashing against the shore, a faint buzzing in your ears.
“I love you too.” Harwin says, squeezing your hands. He waits until you open your eyes and catch your breath, before rolling you over. “My turn.”
You laugh. He thrusts several more times, before falling on top of you. His face is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, and you tell him so, enjoying his blush.
You stay like that for a while, before you get too impatient. You wriggle a little, feeling sticky all over, but Harwin just pulls you closer.
“So. Lemon cake or just cake?”
“Lemon cake. Definitely.”
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 4 months
Note
Hiii i love ur writing can u please write Ethan x Reader where they have makeup sex? There in a fight and the whole friend group is annoyed by it but obviously they make up plssss and tyyy🙏🙏
Hiiii! i hope you like it!
Make-Up Sex - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You're in your first fight with Ethan, but he's determined to make it up to you.
A/N: Make Up Sex by MGK has been stuck in my head ever since I got this request lol
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You had barely spoken to Ethan in days after a huge fight. It was your first one, and you both thought you were in the right, so neither of you would back down. He still sent the ‘I love you’ text every single night, and of course you responded, but that was the most interaction the two of you had with each other. You told him you needed a little space, because you thought it would help the relationship in the long run. You made it clear that you didn’t want to break up, but Ethan still felt like that’s what it was. You were hoping that after weeks of him inviting you over just for him to sit in front of the tv with Chad playing video games, the space would help him realize that you deserve attention, too.
When you arrived at Sam and Tara’s for the weekly “Family Dinner” as they liked to call it, you sat by Ethan, like you always did. He didn’t really speak to you but spoke to everyone else. Tara started to pick up on it, her eyes connecting with your sad ones.
“I just don’t understand why relationships have to be so complicated,” Sam said, referring to the fling she’d been having with Danny.
“Yeah, I’m starting to think relationships are dumb,” Ethan said as he took a bite of his food.
His words were like a knife to your heart as you snapped your head towards him.
“Oh, you do? That’s nice to know,” you said, before moving to the opposite side of the table, taking a seat beside Anika.
“You’re the one that needs space or whatever,” he said, the snarky tone pissing you off.
“God, Ethan. You still don’t get it,” you said, before Mindy interrupted.
“Hey, no arguing at family dinner,” she scolded the two of you, starting to get annoyed. You huffed in response, knowing this wasn’t the time or place for you to argue with Ethan.
“No wait, what don’t I get?” Ethan asked, resting his chin against his hands. The smugness on his face really made you feel like he didn’t care.
“Guys, seriously-“ Chad got out, before you cut him off. His hands went up as he dropped the fork on his plate.
“For a smart guy, you really are an idiot,” you said, staring Ethan down from across the table.
There was this tense, awkward silence in the air as the metal forks touched the glass plates, while everyone continued to eat.
“Maybe we should cut this short tonight,” Sam mumbled, taking her plate to the sink.
“No, we always watch a movie after dinner,” Tara protested, looking over to Ethan. She knew he was being a jerk and didn’t really want to be around him if he was going to act this way.
“It’s cool, I’ll go. You guys are closer to her anyway,” he said, standing up to put his jacket on.
“Dude, you know that’s not true,” Chad sighed, relaxing into his chair. “Maybe you two should talk or something.”
Ethan looked over to you, hoping that was something you were interested in doing. Yeah, he was being an ass, but he loved you and really wanted to understand why you wanted space.
“Yeah, I think we should,” you said, getting up from the table.
The two of you decided to go to a nearby park, taking a seat on one of the benches. You took in your surroundings, listening to the sounds of people talking and nearby cars.
“Sooo,” he said, his eyes squinting as the sun glared across his face, “I’m sorry I said relationships are dumb. I didn’t mean that.”
“That really hurt my feelings. Then again, you’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you said, looking down at your hands on your lap. It was true. You were sick of feeling like you weren’t important enough.
“Babe, you need to tell me what I’ve done wrong. I’m obviously not getting it, and I want to fix it.”
You were quiet for a minute as you watched all the couples walking in front of you, their hands laced together as they flirted with each other. It reminded you of what you used to have with Ethan.
“We didn’t get to spend a lot of time together because of midterms. I understand that, but once they were over, I really wanted you to spend time with me. I missed you so much, even when you were right in front of me. I hated feeling that way,” you said, as Ethans fingers brushed against yours.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important,” he sighed, “I was just so caught up in trying to beat that game with Chad. I fucked up.”
“I wasn’t sure how you felt about me anymore…it’s like you went from always wanting sex, and always wanting to be close. It just stopped.”
“Hey, I never don’t want sex,” he joked, causing you to roll your eyes.
“You say that, but the last encounter we had was me giving you head while you did homework before the exams. That was over a month ago,” you said, thinking back to that night. He was so stressed, and you just wanted to take care of him.
“I can’t believe it’s been that long,” he said. He sat there for a few seconds, thinking. “They’re still having a movie night if you want to come back to my dorm. Let me make this up to you.”
“I’d like that,” you smiled as he stood up, taking your hand in his as he led you back to the dorm.
Once you got there, he helped get you out of your clothes. He ran his hands over your breasts, building up the anticipation. You thought the two of you were going to immediately get to it, but he had other ideas.
“Lay down on your tummy, babe,” he said, feeling himself get hard as you stood completely nude in front of him.
He took his shirt off before kneeling on the bed beside you. His hands started to run across your back to your shoulders, massaging you.
“You’re so tense, baby,” he said, as his fingers continued to knead your skin.
You gasped at the feeling, getting goosebumps as you started to relax into the bed.
“That feels so good.”
He smiled as he moved your hair out of the way to massage your neck, before working his hands further down your back. He placed kisses to your skin, the sweet intimacy of the moment making you feel like you did when you first started dating.
His hand moved even lower, rubbing your ass as you started to whine. He smirked to himself as you started to wiggle.
“You okay?” he asked, as his hands moved to the back of your thighs.
“Yeah, I-“ your words got stuck in your throat when his hands went to you inner thighs.
“What was that, babe?” he asked smirking as he started to spread your legs a little.
The only sound you made was a sharp inhale as he reached between your legs, running his fingers over your soaked pussy.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, your core starting to grind against his hand as he rubbed you.
“Mhm.”
He moved his hand away from you as you whined out in protest, his hands grabbed your hips, lifting you a little.
“On your knees, babe,” he said, your ass proudly sticking in the air, thinking he was going to fuck you.
You were a whimpering mess when he started flicking his tongue across your clit. He’s never ate you out in this position, but he was loving the access for his big hands to squeeze your ass while he got you off.
“Oh, fuuuuuck,” you moaned, your face shoved into the comforter.
He was drawing patterns on your clit with his tongue, then dipping it inside of you. When his mouth sped up against you, your toes started to curl, the amazing feeling started to build up inside of you.
He kept going as he listened to your moans get louder, letting him know you were starting to get close. His mouth latched onto you, moving his head back and forth as he suckled on your clit.
“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whined, your back starting to arch at the feeling washing over you.
He tried to hold your hips still, laughing against you when he was struggling to do so.
After you came back down, he helped you roll over. He smiled at your blissful appearance.
As you lay on your back, he started to take off his pants.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t give you the attention you needed, baby,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making your heart melt. “I never want you to think that I don’t want you.”
“You’re forgiven, as long as you don’t do it again,” you smirked, as he crawled on top of you.
“I promise you I won’t.”
 He slid into you with ease, as your chest lifted to press against his.
He started to move his hips into yours, but stayed as close to you as he could. He kissed you as your fingers went to his hair. When his thrusts got faster, your legs wrapped around his waist, making it easier for him to pound into you.
“God, Eth. I missed this,” you said, your breathing heavy.
“I missed it too,” he groaned, reaching his hand down to rub your clit again.
You whined out at the stimulation, as two of his fingers circled over you bundle of nerves. He loved seeing you like this; your hips jerking and the fucked-out expression on your face making him go faster.
He knew he was going to cum soon, and he really need you to cum too, so he slid out of you. You whined out at the loss of contact as his hands went your legs. He stood beside the bed, pulling you closer to him.
Your ass was almost hanging off the bed as he pushed your legs back towards you. His cock slid back into you, the new position making it easier for him to give your g-spot the attention it needed.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned out, fucking harder into you with each word.
Your hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them up so his hands could roam your body. They grazed over your nipples, gently pinching them before squeezing both of your breasts. You felt your climax building up again, your legs starting to involuntarily shake as he fucked you. He trailed one of his hands from your breast back down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. Your walls started to flutter around him as your mouth fell open and your brows furrowed together.
“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, trying to fuck you through your orgasm until he couldn’t anymore. His hips came to a stop as he pulled out, shooting his cum all over your stomach.
After both of you started to catch your breath, he relaxed onto the bed beside you.
“Do you still need space, or are we good now?” he asked, your head turning so your eyes connected with his.
“I don’t need the space, but I’m not sure we’re good,” you said, giggling at his confused expression. “We’ll be good after you get your cum off of me.”
He laughed, getting up to grab a towel.
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odezsmi · 4 months
Text
good n plenty
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pairing: rin okumura + reader
warnings: light angst, hurt w/comfort
now playing 🎶 : good & plenty by alex isley, masego, + jack dine
an: hello !! this is my first time writing fics on tumblr ! while written elsewhere, i thought it would be amazing to try this out here now bc now or never lolol.
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“You know you really don’t have to be here, right? feels like you’re monitoring me at this point.”
“Monitoring you? I can’t simply spend time with my boyfriend?”
The words came off as playful, but while his tone mirrored yours, you knew what he meant.
See, Rin Okumura eventually had come to terms with who he was. While it took a bit longer than he had wanted, he knew who he was inside and out.
Being Satan’s son was the heaviest burden anyone could carry, and Rin had fallen victim to that.
With every event that had transpired so far in his life, from the Blue Night to Kyoto and other following events he accepted the fact that he was Satan’s son.
Satan. A fallen angel, once radiant and powerful, who defied divine authority and was casted out of Heaven. A symbol of evil, human frailty even and the enemy of God. A being who sought to destroy God’s children and bring nothing but destruction.
But Rin Okumura?
Oh, nothing hurt more than to see how wrong people could be about this careful being.
Rin was anything but destructive. If anything, he’s more gentle than anyone you’ve ever met.
With the kindest words and the gentlest of gazes towards you, you never understood what it was about you that caught his eyes.
And each time you asked whether it be a joke or not, you were always met with his softness and light words.
“Because you see me.”
And that, made him more human and less of a spawn.
You saw him for his eccentric self, whether it’s over his cooking for him and his brother. Or how Kuro slept the previous night and he’s showing the 45 pictures he took.
Whether it be how he’s excited he’s invited out of a simple game of baseball with the other ex wires or an older woman took time out of her day to chat with him, you saw him for who he was.
Not what he was forced to be.
Sometimes though, the reminders of who he is catch up to him and he’s left shaken up with fear and doubt. The fear of his friends leaving him for good, of losing Yukio, or even losing you.
You received a call at 3 am and now you’re snuck into the dorms, not caring that he’s seeing you with crazed hair and your athletic-based pajamas.
“Plus it sounded like you realllllly wanted me here. Didn’t we just have a date? Didn’t know you’d miss me that much.” The cheesy grin was enough to make the boy scoff.
“Hey- I have a cat I can also talk to-“
“Who I can’t understand-“
“And go back into my super comfortable twin bed by myself. Well. With him too.”
It wasn’t long before you were laughing gently at his banter, reminding yourself Yukio was asleep down the hall.
If he were awake he’d certainly scold you two for being up so late.
“Well, can Kuro enjoy some nice chamomile tea and spend time with you like this?”
It was unfortunately also a late night with heavy storms, the drops pattering against the windows. It was loud and clear for the two of you, and you had managed to distract Rin for a bit from it (in case he felt guilty for making you come here).
As he glances over at a window from the empty cafeteria, you stare at his features for a bit and exhale through your nostrils.
What you would give to ease his troubles, to take away all of his fears and insecurities. It was a late night and he clearly had a nightmare, one which his friends had shunned and demeaned him for his heritage.
While not possible with all you guys have been through as exwires, who are you to dismiss that?
You’ll never understand the full extent of it, but you’ll be there as much as you can for him.
“Rin?”
His head turns from the window to look at you, a puzzled look on his features.
His expression was precious enough you’re already smiling, eyes crinkled and teeth showing. Thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you hum.
“You’re… you’re so good. You’re just… a beautiful being.”
The words caught him off guard, and both of you sat in a moment of silence.
Him? Good?
Are you sure you’re talking about him?
“But-“
“You’re a gift from the universe, a blessing to many. You’re choosing a life for yourself, and defying anyone else who disagrees. Who tells you what you should be and what you are. Except…” You frown, and that worries him for a moment.
“I wish you saw how wonderful you are from my eyes.”
Wonderful.
Wonderful? All he can remember being called is aggressive, a brute, hell even a thug.
But a blessing? Wonderful? Satan would be laughing if he heard the formal.
But…
Hands withdrawing from him, you chuckle to yourself out of meekness. “Maybe that’s a bit much. Sorry if it was weird-“
Your words died in your throat when his arms engulfed you, yelping a little from the force. Your arms hung in the air uselessly as you tried to look at your boyfriend.
“Rin?”
“Stay the night with me.”
“Huh? But-“
“Please.”
The word is forced out, in a way which you understand in a snap. His hug was tight, body trembling and voice strained.
Brushing his locks down for comfort, you stand from your chair and nod. “Okay.”
With you in his arms, his soul was able to find a little bit more peace. The tranquility of the rain and him holding you close to his chest brought on sleep to him.
For so long, he had been haunted by the echoes of his past, the weight of his bloodline threatening to drown him in despair.
But in your arms, he found sanctuary — a haven where his flaws were not condemned, but embraced with love and understanding.
And just like that, he fell asleep and remained asleep throughout the rest of the night.
Until of course, a very hungry cat woke him up and an irritated younger brother scolded you both for this recklessness.
It was all worth it in the end for Rin.
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(teehee I didn’t proofread so sorry for any mistakes; I wrote this at 2 am.)
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buckychristwrites · 1 year
Text
About You | Day 8 | j.t.
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Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: Discussing tits?? Cussing. Enemies to lovers
A/N: Let me know what you think! :)
Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog
“Holy shit!”
Keeley’s face was horrified by the picture on your screen. It was your face the morning after the match. The bruising had spread from the bridge of your nose to your forehead and your cheeks. The swelling had been minimal, and you were lucky that you hadn’t gotten a black eye. You had still taken the day after the match off, however, for that reason, and because you desperately needed to get started on the article. 
Though, it had been weird being away. That had been the first day in a week where you didn’t see or hear from Jamie. There were too many instances where you thought about texting or phoning him. But ultimately, you didn’t speak to him at all. Maybe that was why you were able to be so productive. You had gotten a decent chunk written, and had transferred the audio, video and picture files all onto your laptop and organised them. 
But now you were back in action, face caked in makeup to hide the extensive bruises and anti-inflammatories taken to bring the swelling down. When you ran into Keeley in the car park, she had asked if you knew why Jamie had been pulled from the match. Roy, she had said, was so angry about it, despite the win they still claimed, that he just couldn’t tell her. So of course, you had to tell her what had happened. 
“He really pummelled him though?” She asked. You nodded. She looked pleased. “Good for him. That prick sounds like he deserved it.” Retelling the story had brought back the feelings from the day prior, making you shake your head.
“I’ve never been defended like that before.” 
You weren’t looking at her as you stared at the picture of yourself, but you could feel her studying your expression. 
“Jamie’s amazing to have on your side once you have him,” She said in a quiet voice. When you looked at her again, you could see what she was thinking just by the look on her face. It felt like she was seeing right through you, reading your mind. Maybe she was.
“He is,” You finally said with a nod. She nodded back in understanding, biting back a smile. 
You tried to distract yourself from the butterflies in your stomach. The breeze felt nice, blowing just enough to cool you down from the sunny warmth without being considered too windy. It felt a little too bright outside, but maybe that was from the injury you were sporting. Your head had been incredibly sensitive, easily developing a headache at the drop of a hat.
“Quite a relationship the two of you have developed over the last week,” She remarked innocently before taking a sip of her coffee. You broke eye contact as you began to look around. 
“It’s crazy what can be accomplished after yelling at each other in the car about our feelings,” You told her. 
Keeley was never a stupid woman, and you never took her for one. You could dance around the topic as much as you wanted, but you could tell by the way she looked at you in this moment, that she knew everything about the conundrum going on in your head. For a brief second, you considered the idea of talking to her about it. Maybe she’d have some insight for you. She was, after all, the most qualified person you knew to give you advice when it came to player number 9 of AFC Richmond. You took a deep breath.
“Can I tell-”
“Are we workin’ out here today?” 
The both of you jumped a kilometre in the air before whirling around. Jamie approached with a look of amusement on his face.
“Fuckin’ Christ, Jamie,” Keeley scolded with a hand dramatically over her heart. “You nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack.” He couldn’t help but grin mischievously while she continued to shake her head. Your heart was racing, and you knew it wasn’t just due to the fear you had felt moments before. 
“Sorry,” He said, without an ounce of apology in his tone. When he glanced at you, he immediately looked away, the smile on his face seeming to fade away. “Erm, would I be able to talk to ya?” He asked, his eyes finding you again. You looked over at Keeley with a look that begged her to stay.
“Well, see you guys later!” She said. If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would’ve missed the wink she gave you before scurrying off and disappearing through the door. 
“Right, erm.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking around as if something in the car park would help him. You watched him carefully. He looked so guilty, and sad. 
“I just, erm…” He tried again, but trailed off. Finally, he inhaled, clapping his hands together. “We missed ya at practice yesterday.” You bit the inside of your cheek.
“I missed it too,” You said. Though you knew that’s not what you missed. “I just… I just needed a day for proper work and rest, I think.” He nodded in understanding. 
“Your face looks much better than I thought it would,” He said, lifting a hand to point to where you got hit. You stared at his fingertips and remembered how they felt when cradling your head in that little room during the match. It was like your cheeks had the feeling burned into them, for they suddenly grew very warm. You felt embarrassed by how much you wish he would do it again.
“I’m wearing makeup,” You admitted before showing him the picture on your phone. His hand instantly went to face, running downward from his eyes to his chin before dropping back down to his side. His knuckles on that side were covered in bruises, and you had to actively tell yourself to look away.
“I should’ve been more worried about keepin’ you safe than lettin’ me anger get the best of me,” He said. “I know you said it wasn’t me who hit ya, but it still wouldn’t’ve happened if I hadn’t acted like a loon. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m just so sorry.”
You wracked your brain in a desperate attempt to say something, anything, that would make him feel better. But you knew it was all in vain. You knew, in that moment, he was hearing his dad in his head, calling him a fuck up and a monster, or whatever it was he was thinking. But it was all in his expression, as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the pavement. 
“You stood up for me,” You reminded him. “You were trying to protect me and keep me safe.” He nodded.
“I was worried ‘bout you bein’ upset by the way you rushed off after the match.”
It was true. When you had woken up back at Richmond that night, with Jamie’s arm around you and head using yours as a pillow, you were filled with a lovely feeling. The team were piling out at the time, clearly having seen the two of you already and no longer paying it any mind. You had woken him gently, allowing him to pull away from you on his own before you rose from your seat. A quick goodbye was exchanged before you left, trying and apparently failing, to appear nonchalant as you stepped off the coach and headed to your car. 
“Then you didn’t come in the next day,” Jamie continued, shrugging his shoulders. “I just… I just wanted to make sure you and I are alright.”
You wanted to comfort him with more than just words. With a hug, or the squeeze of a hand. It didn’t feel like the right moment, and you weren’t sure how he would handle the gesture, so you decided against it. You were suddenly hyper aware of your hands at your sides, so you shoved them in your pocket. 
“Of course we’re alright,” You said. “No other mate of mine would ever do what you did for me. You may have just gotten promoted to my best friend.” This seemed to placate him, for his face relaxed, now smiling slightly.
“You don’t have any friends who’d break a person’s teeth for ya?” He asked, astonished when you shook your head. “Sounds like ya need to get new mates, yeah?” You turned and started to walk towards the door, him following close behind.
“What makes a person a good friend to you?” You asked him as the fresh air turned into air conditioning. The hallway seemed more sparse than usual, but you wondered if that was because the two of you were now considered tardy.
“They just give a fuck about ya,” He explained, waving to the always excited security guard. “I used to think a good mate was just someone who I knew for a long time and could go to the club with.” He took a long moment to think. “But… now I know that the length of time doesn’t matter, it’s the quality of the person.”
As much as you felt bad about it, you were shocked by his answer.
“That was really thoughtful, Jamie,” You said, staring at him in awe. He straightened his posture. 
“I can be thoughtful, sometimes.” 
Upon entering the changing room, you were surrounded instantly by players, who all began talking at once and looking over you. You looked around between all of them, overwhelmed as you tried to pick out some of what they were saying.
“Is your nose okay?”
“We were worried when you didn’t come in yesterday!”
“Is it broken? It looks the same…”
“Gentlemen!” You announced, raising your hands up. They all stopped, the silence a huge contrast from a moment before. “My nose is fine, and not broken. It’s just very bruised and painful. I just needed to get some work done and rest my head yesterday, but I missed you all too.” 
They all calmed, even looking happy at your words. 
“Where’s the bruising?” Van Damme asked, looking closely at your face. “I don’t see any.” You pulled your face away.
“I’m wearing makeup, goofy.” He straightened, making an O shape with his mouth. 
“Women are so magical with their makeup abilities,” Dani said in a dreamy tone. “Shapeshifters, they are.” Rolling your eyes with the biggest smile on your face, you turned around and returned to Jamie, who had been watching the whole exchange with an amused grin.
“They really like ya,” He informed you. In the middle of pulling your notepad from your pocket, you froze and looked at him.
“They were more than worried when you didn’t come yesterday, they were havin’ a strop about it.” He pulled his shirt off. You tried not to stare. “Kept askin’ me if you were in hospital or somethin’.” You looked around at the team, who were now getting changed and not paying you any mind. It hadn’t occurred to you that you hadn’t just turned things around with Jamie, you had also changed things with them, as well. When you had started coming around, just over a week ago, they were all standoffish towards you, sending glares at every chance and keeping their distance. Now, they seemed to care about you just as much as you cared about them.
The coaches entered, looking around at the team. Their eyes all fell on you at once, and you thought they would be indifferent. But they all seemed to look almost relieved at the sight of you. The moment was gone as quick as it started, as they began to address the team while you took your notes.
Back to business as usual.
It was an average day on the pitch. For the first hour, you watched as normal. But you began to feel yourself getting antsy, as it seemed to be something you had been watching the same thing over and over again. You thought about the things you’d need from the article. Plenty of pictures filled your phone of him playing, but maybe taking pictures of the stadium itself would be nice. There were lots of pictures and posters of him hanging out that had been proudly displayed by ownership. Maybe you could get a comment from someone who wasn’t a player.
Taking one last look at the pitch, you snuck off to the tunnel. You made an effort to not look back once more to see if your leaving was noticed. The prickle you felt on the back of your neck let you know that at least one person was watching you.
There was something so serene about the club when the hallways weren’t swimming with people. The history on the walls were so fascinating, and being able to have the chance to walk around and actually soak it in made you giddy. Meeting people and interviews were all well and good, but this was your favourite part of your job. The research, the learning, the things you got to see that the layperson did not. You looked at every picture of previous teams, looking for familiar faces and feeling excited when you actually found them. 
When you got to the current team’s picture, you felt a surge of pride as you took a photo of it. This team had become so important to you in the last week, and you found yourself wondering if you would feel the same in a week, a month, even a year. Would they say hello if they saw you at an event? Would they reply to your comment amongst a sea of fan replies on Instagram? Would they even care to remember you once you're gone?
As per usual these days, your thoughts floated back to Jamie, the same questions still standing. You knew these feelings went far beyond friendship at this point. Would it even matter, in the end, after you went back to your normal job? You’re just you, and he is Jamie Tartt, footballer legend extraordinaire, the best of his generation. He had pieces done about him all the time by interviewers from around the world. Fans adored him, and would cry, yell and faint on the street over him. He met women and men who were, let’s face it, richer, more beautiful and more interesting than you ever could’ve dreamed of. 
You were just a silly little journalist who caught a silly little crush on the mad famous footballer. The one who, incidentally, you had hated just a few months prior. What a world.
“Are you alright?”
You shrieked, whirling around to find Rebecca Welton standing there looking like an absolute bombshell while also looking positively fearful.
“I’m so sorry,” She said as you slapped a hand over your chest. “I just saw you standing there-”
“No no, it’s alright,” You said, finally catching your breath. The skin on your cheeks felt like it was melting off from how hot they were. “I just got lost in thought, is all. I’m okay. How are you, Rebecca?” She looked surprised, even hesitant, by your question. 
“I’m well, thank you.”
The two of you just stood there for a long moment, looking around awkwardly. You put your phone in your pocket before folding your hands together in front of you. This was the first time you had seen or spoken to her since the first day. While you weren’t going out of your way to avoid her, it did make you feel better to not see her. The first impression you had gotten was that she didn’t really want you around, so you felt you were helping her out by keeping yourself scarce.
“The team seems to have warmed up to you,” She said, a little quickly. “Keeley says that Jamie and you have become… quite close?” You nodded.
“Shocking, I know,” You said with a laugh. “It was a surprise to everyone.” You wished deeply in that moment that she was easier to read. She was smiling, but she was the type of person where she could smile at you while also planning your murder and allocating the resources and money for it at the same time. 
“I do hope that means that the negative articles about my players stop,” She said, still smiling. In this moment, you wished desperately that you were back on the pitch. Or maybe dead in an alley. Anywhere, really, would be better than this.
“Yes, I’ll find someone else to slander,” You said. Your heart dropped, stunned, when she actually laughed at this. The sound of it sucked the air from your lungs.  
She began to walk away, but stopped, raising a finger before turning back to face you. 
“Are you still going to the Gala?”
You looked back at her again. 
“I am,” You told her. “Wouldn’t miss it!” She nodded, looking around the hallway before back at you.
“Have you decided on an outfit yet?” She asked. “It’s black tie.” You shook your head.
“I have some dresses in my closet. I’ll probably go with one of those.” This time, it was her turn to shake her head.
“Oh. No, no,” She said, waving you off. She looked you up and down, seeming to assess you. You could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “I’ll send you some ideas. You let me know which one you want, and I’ll have it sent to your apartment by morning.” 
Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth now agape. 
“Rebecca, I can’t let you do that,” You said, the shock filling your voice. “I appre-” She waved you off again, which made you shut your mouth.
“I won’t hear a word otherwise,” She said before giving you a lovely smile. “Just let me know which one you think suits you best. Preferably by the end of the day.” She turned around and began to make her way down the hall, leaving you dumbfounded.
“Thank you!” You called after her. She didn’t speak, but instead she waved behind her. You continued to watch her. 
“Do you already know where I live or something?”
When the team returned to the changing room, you were already on the bench in front of Jamie’s locker with your legs crossed atop the wood. You had returned to take pictures of the locker room, having gotten what you wanted from the rest of the stadium. Now, you sat on your phone, scrolling through the dresses that Rebecca had sent you. 
“Where’d you disappear off to?” Jamie asked, leaning over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. He let out a low whistle. “What are those for?” 
“The Gala,” You said, trying and failing to hold back your excitement. “Rebecca said she’d get me whatever dress I want. For free!” You huffed. “I can’t decide which one though.” Snatching your phone from your hands, he began to scroll through them himself.
“These are for you?” He asked quietly, looking at you before looking at the dresses. You eyed him nervously, about to ask him to give you his honest opinion when-
“What’s for you?” Sam asked, taking the phone from Jamie, who gave him an angry look. Sam studied the phone, about to open his mouth before Isaac took the phone from him, who then had it immediately stolen by Van Damme. 
“This one is lovely,” Van Damme said as he started to show you which one he was referring to, but then Richard snatched it from him. When he looked through the options, he snorted.
“You are crazy!” He said to Van Damme. “The best one is this one!” Colin yanked the phone, although it was quite a fight this time as Richard had quite the grip on it. 
“This one would really bring out her eyes though,” Colin retorted, showing Richard another one. Dani grabbed the phone and looked, giving you a precious smile.
“You would look lovely in all of these,” He said kindly. You blushed while Bumbercatch looked over Dani’s shoulder.
“You have to pick the best one, bruv,” Isaac grunted. “We already know she’d look lovely in all of them!” You peaked over at Jamie, who was a mix of annoyed and amused. Everyone began debating, voices louder and louder as time went on. You watched the entire thing without the smiling on your face faltering at any point. 
The door to the coaches’ office burst open, and Roy and Coach Beard made their way out. Their presence did not calm a soul in the room.
“OI!” Roy shouted. Everyone froze to look at him. He looked around at everyone, being sure that every single person in the room got an individual glare before saying, “What the hell is going on here?”
Within ten minutes, the dresses had been printed out and taped to the whiteboard, your phone having thankfully been returned. Coach Beard was at the board with a pointer in his hand. Everyone was talking over each other.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s talk this out like adults,” Beard exclaimed as the voices slowly came to a stop. “Now through door number one is this lovely ankle length dress with a straight cut neckline and spaghetti straps.” He paused for a second, presumably for the drama. “Elegant. One might even say… chic. A beautiful red for a black tie evening. Will definitely stand out.” 
“What if she doesn’t want to stand out?” Jamie called out.
“It’s a Charity Gala, Tartt. Every woman wants to stand out!” Isaac shouted. 
Jamie rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath about how none of these blokes know you at all. You ignored the flutter in your tummy as you continued to watch the mayhem.
“Door numero dos!” Beard exclaimed, a little louder this time. “A pink mini dress with a frilly skirt, heart neckline and no straps.” You shrugged.
“I don’t know if I have the tits for that one?” You admitted. The room erupted, everyone yelling at you. You shrugged defensively, throwing your hands up. “I’m just saying!” They continued to pop off.
“You have beautiful tits!”
“It’s not the tits, it’s the heart of the girl who wears them!”
“Who made you feel so self conscious about your tits? I’ll fucking end them with my bare hands.”
“Oi!” Jamie stood up, raising his hands and looking at the team. “Stop fuckin’ talkin’ about her tits, yeah?” Everyone mumbled in agreement as Jamie slowly sank back into the seat. “Fuckin’ innappropriate that is. Borderline sexual harassment, in my opinion.”
“And last, but certainly not least,” Coach Beard continued. “We have a long, floor length black dress, slit down the skirt, with a straight neckline and no straps.” 
“It’s too similar to the first one!” Sam pointed out, which the rest of them roared in disagreement.
“You just don’t understand fashion, Sam,” Colin said, ignoring Sam’s look of absolute disgust and shock towards the back of his head.
“But it’s better than the first one,” Richard pointed out. “The skirt slit makes it just-” He lifted his fingers to his mouth, kissing them before opening them again. “Chef’s kiss.”
“It has the elegance of the first one without being… aggressive with the redness,” Isaac remarked. 
They continued to debate passionately. You looked at Jamie, who, for the first time since you had ever known him, remained perfectly silent, just listening.
“What do you think?” You asked him, in a quiet voice so only he could hear you. He looked over in surprise, eyebrows to his hairline.
“Me? You want my opinion?” He asked. You shrugged.
“I’m getting everyone else's, may as well chime in,” You said. You decided not to tell him that as much as you loved the chorus of loud opinions coming from the rest of the room, the one you wanted most was his. He stared at you, searching your eyes, before turning and looking at the dresses. A few moments passed before inhaled deeply and spoke again.
“The black one.” It was so confident of an answer. “Number three.” 
“Why that one?” You asked, turning to look at it again. 
“The first one makes you look like you’re going to your ex husband’s weddin’ and you’re tryin’ to make a point. The second one looks like somethin’ you’d wear to the premiere of a children’s movie.” He looked at you again, his eyes going up and down your body, before turning back to the board. “The black one just feels like you. It’s simple, but still se- still nice.” He nodded in confirmation. The two of you met eyes again and he swallowed. “The black one is perfect.”
Not waiting another second, you stood up.
“I’ve made my decision.”
They all looked at you expectantly. You paused for dramatic affect, and the longer you waited, the more impatient they all got. It was a little exhilarating. 
“Number 3,” You declared. “I’m picking the black one.” 
The room erupted once more, a mix of enthusiasm and disappointment. Before it could get too chaotic, Jamie stood.
“It’s her fuckin’ choice, yeah?” He yelled. “Either be happy for her or keep your mouth fuckin’ shut.” Despite the aggression in his words, you could see the twinkle in his eye, and when he met your eye, he winked before smiling at you. 
It wasn’t until you went to sleep that night that the smile on your face faltered, but even in your sleep, there was still a slight whisper of one on your lips.
424 notes · View notes
ofallthingsnasty · 8 months
Note
my birthday gift? can i- can i really ask for something i want? well… can i move upstairs, kento? i-i promise i’ll behave… please… i feel so scared here everytime you go to work… (for nanamin since you said you write for jjk! hehe)
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tags: yandere, past kidnapping, telltale signs of stockholm (uh oh)
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The hand loosening his tie stills. 
His brows furrow, then his shoulder slacks. You know the gesture, Nanami is thinking about what to say. 
Strained eyes find yours, searching your face - for what, you don’t know. Is it too much to ask for? The flowers had been nice this morning, as far as twisted birthday wishes from the man who has kept you in his home for months go, but you getting a shred of human decency back seems more thoughtful than an elegant bouquet full of your favorites. You know by now that there is no way out of this situation and it would be nice to make your life more bearable. Access to a proper kitchen. A couch. Maybe you could watch TV?
A sigh. It's not born from annoyance (it never is, annoyance isn't something he seems to feel when it comes to you and you pray it stays that way) but resignation, from a heavy burden only he bears.
He’s taking too long to answer, you realize and a tiny spark of worry flits through your gut.
There is nothing to fear, you tell yourself.
He can be reasonable, pragmatic. Not manipulated but guided towards a more favorable outcome if your needs and wants are sensible, humble. 
Nanami isn't cruel. Somewhere in his mind, it all makes sense - and for the most part, you think you can follow him, can come to the same conclusions, to the most logical outcome. 
Maybe you’re finally going stir-crazy enough that you’d call your abductor reasonable. 
But he still knows something you don’t. This strange, silent man who comes home to you, clothes finely speckled with blood more often than not, lives in a different world from yours. Where someone leaves the house in a proper suit and a pinched face only to return late, with grip of steel on your shoulders and the smell of physical exertion on their clothes. Where it seems sane to kidnap someone unassuming like you and put them in a basement for safekeeping. 
There is something going on beyond your scope - you’d be stupid not to sense it by now, but you are starting to think that he’d rather die than tell you. 
“It’s not a matter of good behavior”, he finally says and his voice is guarded, cool. “It’s a matter of safety.” Safety. You’ve had this conversation many times, you think, this is just a different version of it. 
His rejection leaves your eyes hot - you feel like a scolded child being denied one too many treats. Maybe you’re just greedy. Trying your luck on an already excellent day. 
“But I’m scared-”, you push out quickly and let the words hang in the air, because they are true.
How many times have you thought about how long the water would last you down here if he ever bit off more than he could chew and never came home again (and you’re sure the day will come, you know it will), if anyone would ever go looking for you because you doubt a single person is aware of your presence. 
He pinches the bridge of his nose before you can spiral further, but the damage is done.
“I am aware”, he says, exhausted. “And I understand-”
The tears that finally spill from your eyes interrupt him.
He looks at you for a moment as you try to straighten yourself back out, ashamed of your hot temper cooking over and leaving you to show weakness in front of the one man you shouldn't.
His brow softens ever so slightly as he watches you, every crease caused by his work smoothed over with tenderness for your miserable state. It's humiliating.
"I understand your predicament. And I'll see what can be done."
You nod. Through the tears and the burning air in your nose, you nod. 
You know he means it. It's a promise when he says it like that - not a promise for you to finally get out of the dingy basement, but a promise to figure something out.
How much of your wish will come true will be up to his estimation but you allow yourself to feel a tiny glimmer of hope - and allow him to tuck you under his heavy arms as he unbottons his shirt ever so slightly, ending the conversation with the tiny gesture.
Yes, you’re definitely losing it to consider this exchange at least a partial success.
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yawntu · 1 year
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Not a request (unless you want it to be)! but imagine avatar!reader showing neytiri a little girl on girl action (scissoring) cause Jake's been too busy with the whole clan leader thing to please her 🫣
this had to get its own little moment
a/n: I love her I had to write this when I got it something about her makes me swoon. She has so many layers and she is my queen. I finally formatted it. Not proofread yet oop
pairing(s): Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite x f!Reader, extremely brief Jake Sully x f!Reader
word count: ~2k
warnings: NSFW / MDNI Caught, Scissoring / Tribbing, Switch x switch couple, Pregnant Neytiri bc she’s a milf it’s more so a plot point then focused on, Praise kink (receiving), Neytiri doesn’t really know what she’s doing but your enthusiasm makes up for it
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Neytiri could not bring herself to understand why she was sitting here complaining to you. Her life had finally found some semblance of peace. She knows that she should be thankful for the way her people have risen from ashes; for having such a strong competent mate and a mother who knew what was best for her people. She was thankful still had a family to support her and her beautiful planet that was in the very least safe for now.
She should be at ease but she’s not. She’s frustrated and antsy. Maybe it was because she was pregnant enough to be left behind in things she felt needed her attention- or maybe she did not actually care about all of that and the sun was just too hot. She was no sure what it was but she couldn’t shake all the bitter moments that had accumulated throughout the week and led her to this very moment. Sat lounged out by a stream not so far from the village enjoying lunch with her best friend. Though she loved your daily walks, even your company did not soothe the bubbling anger she ultimately has concluded boiled down to Jake.
“All he does is work!” She snaps at you plopping a round berry in her mouth.
For a second you flinch as if you’re the one she’s scolding for neglect. You’re thankful you’re not at the receiving end of her sour mood as she rants about how annoying her day has been.
“Well, he’s dealing with a lot of guilt I’m sure. Men think too much and get stuck in their own brains.” You shrug as you finish peeling her fruit for her, trying to ease her foul mood while not throwing the friend you greatly admired under the bus.
She thinks it’s sweet how you’re always looking to help her, and how loyal you have been. Almost to a fault.
Jake had given you the order to look out for her and you did the most to make sure you met his expectations- like the good little ex-SEAL you were. She thought it was cute that you were so eager to please. Listened to orders so well.
“I’m dealing with the weight of his tsawl txìm ‘evi,”
Big ass kid. Her joking comment makes you bark out a laugh and throw your head back as you swat at one of her sore legs that lay across your own lap and legs.
“Better hope he doesn’t have his father's big ass head,”
You make her laugh as you point to your skull to annunciate the comment. She likes that she doesn’t have to act properly around you. She didn’t have to be nice. She felt she could act her age. Act like she wasn’t Tsakarem. That you were not an alien who had lived a whole over life before you chose this. That her non-native mate wasn’t tasked with rebuilding the world around her with the help of her mother while Neytiri was forced to focus on being pregnant.
She thought that preparing for motherhood would leave her in isolation and drive her into a solitary pit of despair, lost in her own thoughts- but yet here you were. Like her little shadow. Always there to keep her from feeling so alone. You were a good listener too. You didn’t talk much- would just let her ramble about however she felt so she didn’t have to keep it in and go insane with grief. It’s why she trusted you so much.
“I’ll never have another child again,” She rolls her eyes as she wiggles her sore calf over your lap again,
“Please; continue.”
You smile softly at her, returning to rubbing her swollen calf and thigh that you had previously neglected to peel a particularly rough citrus-like fruit for her.
She can talk about anything to you, and you’ll nod and joke along because ultimately she’s your best friend. The best friend you’ve ever had. You think she’s interesting and you care about the way she feels. That’s probably why she likes you so much right now. Your attentive hands on her anyways.
She tries to occupy herself with the citrus that dances across her tongue but all she can feel is the pad of your thumb massaging her swollen thigh.
“Let me sit up so I can get your other leg and hips.”
Her tail flicks as you move past your leg to sit on your knees. She doesn’t mean to seem so annoyed in her actions. She is not mad at you. She really just hates Jake right now. For how tired he is. How busy he is.
He always makes it up to her but had he not been so busy she wouldn’t have been so enticed by the swift movement of your hands against her sapphire skin.
She can swear you’re teasing her on purpose. The way you prop yourself on your knees and annunciate the pretty dip of your hips. Neytiri can’t help but shift and open her legs a bit more. To give you more room between her. She’d say she was getting comfortable but she isn’t stupid. She knows you know it too. You’re terrible at controlling your body language. It’s almost rude how quickly your tail twisting behind you and the way your ears are pointed right towards her.
Your nose crinkles in concentration as you move her leg to rest on your full hips while your thumb instantly moves to push a firm long stroke up the side of her thigh. The feeling shoots across her nerves and she sighs at the alleviation of pain in her hips. It almost makes her forget how much you had turned her on.
“You are so blessed,” She’s shocked at how quickly your palms pressed running across her sore muscles has begun to ease her tight hips and her sour mood, “You’re doing so well,”
She’s thankful you’re so easily appeased. Tail swishing behind you as you rub where her leg met her hip. She’d encourage you the rest of the day if it meant you didn’t stop.
“I have one order, gotta keep you from killin’ Jake during the day,” a giggle falls from your lips.
You lose good girl points at the mention of Jakes name and for the fact that you tease her for her temper. It is Jakes fault she was so irritated today. You knew that. It was obvious how needy she was for intimacy. Jake was as perfect as he could be to her- he was just so busy. You know she didn’t have the heart to complain to her mate that she was horny and lonely when he was carrying such a burden. You could chalk her well-hidden desperation up to her being pregnant but your face flushes at the thought that maybe she just liked you a little bit. You can’t stop your silly smile at the fact that her hips relax even more when you switch over to her opposite leg. One leg lay lazily on the ground while your knead your hands against her flesh.
“Am I helping the pain a little?”
And though you’re asking her a question you’re not looking up at her from your position between her legs. Too busy watching your hands paw at her swollen hips and thighs.
You’re sweet to her. It’s why she controls the motion of her tail snapping up off the ground to smack right up against what she hopes is just as needy and wet as she is.
You yelp and it makes her laugh and though you’ve been half purposely touching her in the hope she’d recuperate your touches you’re almost shocked at the outcome.
“Why are you wet, huh?”
She hopes her words work you up but the fact that your eyes shoot to hers for only a second before looking down to her core ignites her own needy breath.
“I- uh… I dunno I haven’t had sex since I’ve been on earth… like seven years ago.” It sounded like a long time- five years and some months of those if those years were actually getting to Pandora- and it felt like a nap to you. You still miss it obviously- a little too much as she reaches her fingers to caress your wrist and it has you humming.
She laughs at you of course. Making fun of you even though she knew only the rudimental outside of Jake.
“You’re also very pretty,” your quick addition accompanies a charming smile.
She can tell you admire Jake so much at this moment. You match his same entranced pretty smile. Wide eyes looking all too eagerly up at her.
“You’re very pretty too,”
Your thumb runs under the lining of her tweng as she compliments you back and you practically purr at the soft and wet feeling her lips greet you with.
“Does it hurt here too?” You ask her, and though it’s half in jest she nods.
“Terribly. You’ll have to help me.”
You’re a bit nervous when she reaches her hand down to untie her bottoms. it’s not until her other hand touches your hip that you snap out of your own thoughts.
“I’m afraid I’m a bit clueless though,”
There’s that pretty charming quip in her voice that reminds you she is a princess and it makes your legs clench but ultimately calms you down over the fact that she cannot really judge your performance without comparison.
“I can show you,” you didn’t know why she made you nervous; “It’ll feel good for both of us,”
She just grins and pulls at one of the strings of your bottoms that you’re cursing for being as intricately worn as they are.
She can’t help but dance her hands down your exposed skin and admire how excited you seemed to be at the prospect of relief.
She’s not even all that pregnant yet and you’re still so gentle as to carefully position your leg to avoid her.
You sit against her a little too quickly, plopping down flush against her own swollen slit out of pure excitement before jolting back up slightly. Just allowing your swollen clits to touch.
It’s not that Neytiri didn’t figure this is how women who mated with other women slept together- but no one ever talked about it. She had heard whispers of women preoccupying themselves during heats, but she was clueless as to how it actually happened or how it could possibly feel satisfying.
Then, however, you started rocking your hips forward a little. She finally got the appeal of the feather light weight you started with. How enthusiastically and quickly you rub yourself against her is hypnotizing. She feels bad for being so into the way your dragging across the wetness between your bodies considering she has Jake but she can’t ignore how nice this is. She wonders which one of you is responsible for the mess- she can believe it’s her- it wouldn’t shock her in the least- but she hopes it’s you. Even though your eyes have already started to close as you nestled your face into her leg you used to balance yourself and your hip's movements stutter and messily ruin the steady build towards both of your orgasms every time you feel too close to cumming.
The feeling of you gliding your warm cunt against her swollen clit has her sighing in lenience. If your careful hands rubbing at her hips and thighs didn’t alleviate the pain she felt before then the way you forced her to focus on the desire to cum has cured it.
“Mmm. You’re doing so good for me- ya you’re right- fe’els good.“ she choked on her own pant as she tries to sit up slightly so she can touch your tail, “Go faster please,”
One hand plays with your nipple as the other uses her outstretched legs as an anchor to grind yourself down onto her at the speeds she requests.
The fact that you turn to look at her but instead get distracted by the oscillation of her full breasts has her hips rolling up to meet you.
“Oh-ohhhh,” and she feels your fall forward at her intrusion as to brace yourself onto your hands. She’s so thankful you were so flexible. So easy for you to loosen your hips open a little more and fuck yourself down onto her.
She felt so good. So much better than what you thought dragging your clit against hers would feel like. You get why Jake folded and betrayed everyone so easily. Her nails running across your thigh or back haphazardly in conjunction with the way you feel your clit slot up against hers makes you shutter.
You really hope you aren’t setting a bad example. You hope she’s feeling just as good as you are, it’s hard for you to turn your head to face her so you focus your energy on making sure your grind down accurately.
You try not to be sloppy- you do the best you can even though she whines and makes you want cum before she could.
You thank Eywa when you feel her nails dig into your hips and the gush of her pussy against yours.
Your, “Oh fuck- fucking hell,” is less ceremonious then her moans but you can’t help it when the added slickness of her orgasm makes it all too easy to trib yourself down against her and chase your own high.
You thank divine timing for finishing just in time for your heart to drop into your stomach at the sound of someone crossing the tree line,
“Huh, woulda’ get a load of this,”
It is a gruff masculine voice that you now vividly recall giving you the order to watch out for his wife- not scissor yourself between her thighs and fuck her.
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yesimwriting · 2 years
Text
Final Girl (Part 7)
Final Girl Series Masterlist  (currently updated chapters 1 - 9)
a/n me basically throwing the scream timeline out the window so i can have all the cute little scenes i want, let’s just pretend september/october are LONG months lol, also sorry this took so long!! 
the demon known as finals season is officially here so i’m going to be slower 😭 but...after it ends i will have a little over a month to myself! and it’ll be christmas time ! 
Series Summary:  Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 
Chapter Summary: Stu decides to dedicate some time to getting back into Y/n’s good graces. Or, when Stu finally learns that there’s a reason Y/n doesn’t have her driver’s license and Y/n realizes that there’s no point in resisting that little bubble Stu’s always pulling her towards. 
----
The textbook flops awkwardly against my forearm as I let one side go in order to extend my arm. I pick up an apple from the bowl on the kitchen island and move to turn instinctually.
I move the apple towards my mouth, never once looking away from my history book until a quick tug yanks the book forward. I scramble, squeezing the hard cover instinctually.
My head snaps up and I see my mom, one hand on her hip and the other on my book. “Mom!”
“Come up for air,” her voice is scolding, “Your face has been glued in that textbook for days.”
“It’s not healthy.” The voice is surprising enough for me to let go of the book. My arm falls to my side and my mom just barely grabs it in time. I blink, turning to see the last person I’d expect to see in my kitchen.
It’s Stu. I’m mad at him, some rational part of my mind knows better than to forgive him when he hasn’t so much as apologized. When he’s been off sulking and switching up between different levels of mean to overly, practically violent levels of affection, like everything’s all good and I’m a bitch for prolonging a stupid fight. And now he’s in my kitchen, standing near my mom like this is the most natural place for him to be.
I squeeze the apple between my hands. “What are you--why are you--”
“He’s checking in on you because you’re worrying your friends.” Oh. My. God. My lips part but I have nothing to say, not with that what? this is totally innocent look he’s giving me. His eyes wide and soft. “They’ve barely seen you.”
A tiny pinch of guilt settles in my chest, because while I might not currently be at my most social, there is someone that’s seen a lot of me. Billy. I don’t know if it’s because of what happened with the phone call or something else, but Billy’s been around a lot more. It feels like he understands better than others because he’s seen it.
He also has a habit of coming in through my window and spending the night to avoid his dad. At least, that’s why I think he comes. He’s only ever hinted at it in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t want to elaborate, so I don’t ask. It doesn’t bother me to have him come and go as he pleases. I wasn’t wrong when I said he was like a cat.
“Yeah, you haven’t been around,” Stu begins, “Makes me think about who you’re spending all your time with.”
Stu’s expression barely shifts, just the slight raise of his eyebrows. There’s no way he doesn’t know that Billy’s been around. “Just school stuff.”
“Really? All that time--”
“Some of us actually need to study.” God, I know Stu and I aren’t in the best place, but is he really trying to tell my mom on me? There’s a knowing glimmer behind his eye that makes me want to squirm. “So you’re here to check up on me?”
My mom lets out a sigh and shoots me a look. “Be nice.”
Stu’s smugness feels physical. He’s holding what he knows over my head, enjoying being a ticking time bomb. “Oh, she’s always nice.” His expression soften slightly, a silent cease fire.
I can finally breath again. “Thank you.” Then I remember my mom’s in the kitchen so I tack on, “For checking in, but I’m fine, just behind.”
At that, my mom places the text book on the kitchen table. “You’re young, you should go out every once in awhile, see your friends, eat an actual meal...” When all I do is give her a sarcastic look, my mom goes for the kill shot, “Practice for that upcoming driver’s test.”
Okay, she has a point. Driving practice is something that we’ve both put off. Me, because I hate feeling like I’m endangering lives, and my mom because she hates having her life endangered. “You don’t want to do that anymore than I do.”
“You need to practice because if you fail another one, you’re going to have to wait six months.”
Six months of not touching a car doesn’t sound terrible. I mean, it’s pretty embarrassing, but it also feels like a sacrifice I’m making for public safety. “Six more months of not getting arrested for vehicular manslaughter doesn’t sound like a loss.”
“Something little miss perfect isn’t good at?” Stu’s grin in his voice is loud and he’s clearly fighting the urge to laugh.
“It’s not,” I sigh, turning the apple over in my hand, “It’s not that bad.”  
My mom raises an eyebrow, “Well--”
“Mom!”
“You can’t park,” she sighs defensively, “You knocked over the recycling can last time and kept going.”
“Because I thought it was the curb, it’s not a big deal to hit the curb.”
Stu laughs, the sound loud and so amused I have to glare. “Oh, I need to get you out on the road.”
“No.”
My mom places a hand on her hip, “Nice.”
I sigh, wondering why I even came out of my room in the first place. That was me being nice. “What’s nicer than sparing someone from a potential car accident?”
“I’ll risk it,” Stu hums a little too happily, ignoring my glare. “Passed my driver’s test the first time.” Yeah, wouldn’t be surprised if that’s because his family’s loaded and because they knew leaving him alone would get a lot easier if he could drive himself places. “An hour with me, and you’ll be good to go.”
“I have to st--”
“Do you know how embarrassing it’ll be to be the only Princeton student that can’t drive?”
It’s a fair point, which means I’ll have to fight my mom’s logic with mom logic. “You’re not seriously trying to get Stu to take me driving right now.” Please remember he’s a boy; please remember your hatred of boys.
She raises an eyebrow at me and then at him, likely doing that weird calculation thing of hers. “He offered.”
Oh this is a total con. I don’t know how or what I missed while he was here and I was upstairs, but it must have been something if this is what’s happening. The feeling that I’m being played in some way I don’t really get sneaks up on me. I eye Stu skeptically, who has yet to drop his I’ve done nothing wrong expression.
“He was joking,” my words are not-so-subtly pointed, an attempt to force Stu to take the out.
The more I grind my heels into the sand, the more Stu will want it. “I’m never joking when it comes to you.”
“I think it’d be good for you--get some air, time away from those textbooks.”
How has his blatant flirting not scared my mom off yet? Maybe I can convince her that he broke up with Tatum so that she’ll shut this down. “You want to send me off with some guy you’ve barely spoken to?”
Stu lets out an indignant noise. “Are you saying I might have bad intentions?”
The inflection of his voice is so comical and him that a sense of longing rises in my chest with no warning. Despite my best efforts, I miss him. Fighting against an instinctual smile, I bite my tongue. Something about the way Stu’s gaze lingers makes me feel like he knows.
“Pumpkin, I mean this with all the love in the world, but I cannot think of a bigger mood killer than you being behind the wheel of a car.”
“Mom!”
She ignores my outrage, “And he’s one of your best friends, you say it all the time.”
Oh my god. I don’t have to turn my head to feel Stu’s grin. Ugh, I hate that it’s true and I hate that now Stu knows it. “Fine. Give me five minutes to change.”
Content to have gotten her way, my mom turns, “Be safe.” Sure, now she cares about safety. “And have fun, I need to run, I’m meeting Wells for lunch.”
Stu doesn’t give me a chance to say anything, because the second my mom’s out of the room, he moves around the kitchen island to stand next to me. Close enough that I can practically feel the warmth of his skin radiating from him. I hold my ground, tilting my chin up enough to look him in the eye. He at least owes me an explanation for all of this.
He smiles, briefly flashing his teeth. “You talk to your mom about me?”
The words come out too excited for me to dismiss them as just conceited. Too happy for me to dismiss his giddiness by telling him that it’s not a big deal. “Shut up.” I duck my head down slightly as he grins. Out the corner of my vision, I see him shift. For a second I think he might move to grab me and pull me into one of those hugs that are a lot nicer than I’d ever admit. “I need to go get changed since I’m being kidnapped.”
Choosing to only hear what he wants, because he’s Stu, he replies without hesitation, “Getting all pretty for me?”
I roll my eyes, vaguely flipping him off over my shoulder before walking up the stairs. The distance is welcome. When Stu’s right there, it’s easy to forget things and just go along with his mood, but this is not okay. I stop talking to him because he wanted space, so he just decides to ambush me? And how long was he in the kitchen chatting with my mom? Oh. My. God. What did he say to her?
Okay, okay--probably nothing too bad. She told me to leave with him. She wouldn’t have done that if he said anything that bothered her.
With a sigh, I take off my sweatpants and sweatshirt and search the chaos that is my closet for an acceptable outfit. It’s getting chilly considering the time of year, colder than it would be in Texas but not deep fall yet. I find a pair of sheer tights bundled up between pairs of shorts. Then I pick out a skirt and long sleeved shirt that matches before pulling my hair out of its sad bun. I smooth it out and fix my appearance in record time. 
Stu looks a little too pleased with himself when I finally walk down the stairs. There’s a smugness that adds to my irritation. I have a feeling he can sense my disapproval, because he pulls his arm as we reach my front door. He squeezes me into his side, I roll my eyes. The amount of comfort the hint of something normal brings me is so shocking I can’t bring myself to squirm out of his grasp. 
-----
Eyes narrowing, grip on the steering wheel tightening, I prepare to face my enemy. A tight squeezed three point turn. 
“You’re overthinking it.” 
“Am not.” 
“Just like you under thought the red light.”
“It was yellow when I saw it.” I turn my head enough to face him, “It changed color deceptively fast.” Stu draws his eyebrows together, smiling in an oddly soft way. “What?” 
My dumbfounded tone makes his smile broaden. “You’ve gotta be right about everything, don’t’cha, angel?” 
I’m not sure if it’s his words or the deliberate amount of focus he’s using, but heat rushes to my face. “No, I just--I am.” Dropping my gaze, I tact on an awkward, “Usually.” Shifting in my seat, I refocus on the parking spot. “You sure you want me to park here?” 
“It’s easy.” More like easy for him to say. When I don’t ease, Stu extends his arm, placing a hand over mine. His hand is large enough to cover mine, his fingertips long enough to splay across the back of my palm and steering wheel. He’s always so warm. “You just need to open up. Take your time turning.” 
I nod, taking a deep breath as Stu scoots back in his seat to give me some mobility. Last time he tried holding my hand through it, but I think he’s starting to see how much of a disaster I am. This is around our fifth attempt. Earlier, I got his car stuck at a weird angle between a mail collection box and someone’s truck. 
With a deep breath, I put the car into reverse. I look through the back window, cringing when the curb comes a little too close. My foot hits the break, shifting the car back into drive. I inch it forward, stop, and put it back in reverse. I hit the gas a little too fast, making it a bumpy transition, but I haven’t hit anything yet. With one last turn, the car is put in the right direction. It’s a lot further than I’ve gotten before. I straighten out the wheels, minding the back of the truck as I drive forward, and--
Oh my god! Stu cheers, I can barely get the car into park before Stu places a hand on the side of my head, pulling me towards him with no warning and placing an overenthusiastic, partially open mouthed kiss against my temple. It’s pushy and honestly a little damp, but I’m too excited to mind. Can’t have him getting too comfortable, though, so I shrug him off a little in order to high five him. His hand lingers, squeezing my hand. 
“I did it!”
“Because of your talented, amazing, hot teacher who--” 
There’s that touch of over confidence bordering on narcissism that’s been missing. “What was that last o--” 
He turns my wrist over, striking the back of my wrist  with his pointer finger. A literal slap on the wrist. “Interrupting’s rude, princess.” Stu ignores the pointed look I send in his direction. “As I was saying,” he over emphasizes each syllable, “You should appreciate me, and I can think of a few ways for you to express your gratitude.” 
I should have seen that coming. I pull my hand towards my lap, my eyes settling there as well. “Your thoughts are the closest you’re getting.” I don’t realize what I’ve said until the muttered half thought is out. Great, now I’m going to get even more of this. 
Stu drops his head back, a hand flying to his chest. “You wound me.” His other hand finds itself settling right above my knee. “And for no reason.” His fingertips are pressing into my skin with just enough pressure to steal all my attention.  
The heat of his touch bleeds through the thin layer of my tights. My body tenses. “Knock it off, I still need to drive on a highway.” 
“Why?” The excitement in his voice gives away exactly where he’s going. “Distracted?” 
I shove his arm away with a sound that’s equal parts real laugh and awkward giggle. “The only thing I’m distracted by is the driver’s test I have in two days.”
Stu pouts, sinking into the passenger seat, “Boring.” 
Taking the car out of park, I mock his tone, “Driving.”
----
There’s something about the smell of books that’s comforting. Which why the bookstore might be my happy place. Which is why we should not be here. It’s basically impossible to be mad here. 
A fact Stu definitely knows considering the way he’s casually following me around, holding an ever growing pile of books with no complaint. This was the trap all along. 
“I know what you’re doing.” 
Stu hums once in pretend thought. “What? Spending time with you?”
An instinctual ‘why, was Tatum busy’ almost slips past me. “It’s not working, I’m still mad at you.” I pick up another book, turning it to skim the summary on the back before placing it on the stack Stu’s carrying. “You can’t just barge into my house, use my mom to arrange whatever this is--” 
He huffs, half stepping in front of me. “You don’t complain when it’s Billy.” 
That is completely different. First of all, it’s much less of an ambush considering that Billy has never once involved my mom or stopped me from studying. Second, Billy also never said anything about me being around too much.
I pause, tilting my head to look Stu in the eye and tell him all of that. He’s already looking at me with wide, attentive eyes that are distinct in a way that makes me still. Analytical in a way that’s unnerving. “You--you asked for space.” Feeling antsy, I scratch the back of my wrist as I try to keep myself from saying anything stupid. “And you were mean.” 
Wow. So much for holding it together. He angles his head to the side, regarding me cautiously. “It-it wasn’t about you.” The admission is practically pried from him. “There’s a lot going on right now, but I shouldn’t have hurt your feelings.” It’s not exactly the perfect apology, but there’s a surprising amount of vulnerability there. “Don’t you miss us?” Totally not a fair thing to ask, but Stu can definitely tell that I’m easing, “C’mon, let me make it all right. I’ll get you all the books you want.” 
I do, but that’s not a fair angle. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I sigh. “I...I can’t be bought.” 
Maybe it’s my hesitation or the way my eyebrows raise instinctually or something about how fake my words sound, but Stu smiles, bouncing on the balls of his feet so quickly he nearly drops my pile. “We haven’t gotten to the hardcover books yet.”
Damn him. I roll my eyes as I drop my arms. There is no way I’m making a big show of dropping this, but I don’t exactly have enough fight left in me to prolong this. “Hardcover? Your arms are going to get tired.” 
The pile isn’t comically large, barely coming up Stu’s torso, but it still sways when he moves a hand away from the center. He flexes his bicep. “With these guns? No way, baby. Do your worst.” 
And so I do. We walk through the aisles together, giggling at any title that Stu can turn into a joke so dumb it circles right back around to funny. He’s patient, letting me debate between different books, and sometimes even giving me actual opinions outside of just get them both. He listens when I read the backs of books and sometimes excerpts from the first page or two.
He’s a good sport about the whole thing, only poking fun at my excitement in lighthearted ways and never really complaining until we’ve been there long enough to justify the hunger he starts talking about. I never did eat that apple and it is kind of close to a late lunch time. 
“You know I’m not actually making you buy all those books.” 
“I’m a man of my word, angel.” He hums, almost offended that I’d even imply he’d lie in a joking context. “Can’t have you making me a liar.” Stu sets down the pile in front of the cashier.
The thought of someone spending money on me in any capacity isn’t something I’ve always been comfortable with. I eye him, the hint of determination behind his eyes serious as he reaches for what I’d bet is a card backed by his parents. If Stu’s trying to make it up to me, I guess this is okay for a one time thing. “All I’m hearing is daddy’s money.” 
I’m grinning despite the look of warning he gives me. “Don’t start.” Stu’s eyes narrow as he pinches my cheek too quickly for me to protest. “I’m being nice.” 
He is. The realization that I like it, like him, like this hits hard and fast. “I like you nice.” 
Stu seems to pause at that like he’s actively trying to take in my expression. It briefly feels like just another one of his analytical moments until I notice the soft, almost unaware smile ghosting at the corner of his lips. Maybe he is trying to absorb some aspect of this. “Like me enough for a lunch date?” 
“If I fail my chem quiz on Wednesday, that’s on you.” 
He shrugs, grinning a bit with the motion. “Flunk outta that whole school thing and I’d take you in. Make you a cute, little housewife, get you one of those aprons.”
I should I have seen that coming. “I’m sure Tatum would love that.” 
“Tay’s fine, she passed chem.” His smug expression earns him a glare and a not-so-gentle elbow jab. “Ow.” Despite the definitely exaggerated sound of pain, Stu still looks happy, or at the very least amused by something I don’t get. “Feel like I’m with Billy.” He mumbles the comment under his breath instinctually. “Only he doesn’t hit me as hard.” 
“It was not that hard.” 
He makes a point of rubbing the side I elbowed. “If I’m bruised, will you kiss it better?”
Stu’s joking. I know that he’s joking, which means the way that heat rushes to my face is totally unnecessary. “You’re fine.” 
-- Narrator’s POV --
The low dip of the collar of your shirt is a lot harder to not focus on now that you’re sitting directly in front of him. You’re too content to notice any drift of concentration, you just continue to take bites of your food in between topics of conversation. 
It’s been silent for a few seconds longer than normal, and that cues Stu in to the fact that your attentive gaze is meant to be something more than cute. You’re waiting for some kind of response. He scrambles, snapping his gaze down towards his drink and then back up to you. What were you talking about? 
At first it had been something about a book series that recently released its third part. Stu didn’t get much, but you were excited to talk about it. Sometimes the reminder that under your particular sense of humor and pretty face you’re kind of a dork is endearing. Then you two had talked about school, the middle of the year approaching and an upcoming unit exam in your mutual history class. And then lastly...a movie or two you wanted to see. Were you still talking about that? 
“What’d you say?” 
You blink, only slightly confused as to why it took him so long to admit he didn’t hear you. “Just that I haven’t seen the new Amityville Horror movie yet and that I’m still on the fence because of the last one.” 
“It was okay. A little slow.” You nod at his reply absentmindedly, turning the straw in your cup in an attempt to push past cubes of ice to get to bit of liquid left at the very bottom of the cup. “Like most of the series, so I guess you’d like it.” 
The comment is equal parts honest as it is an excuse to get your lips to press together in that passive aggressive way. That paired with the way you raise your eyebrows in offense always makes him want to laugh. You’re upset enough to stop the shifting of your straw. “Are you saying I have bad taste?” 
“You like the slower ones, the ones with a psychological angle. You don’t like the gory ones because you can’t stomach them.” You pout, reaching for your glass, tilting it in another attempt to get some more liquid out of a cup that’s just ice. “You’re a girl, it makes sense.” 
“So now you’re saying I have bad taste in movies because I’m a girl?”
“All I’m saying is that good, bloody deaths is more of a guy thing. That’s why girls are never the killers.” 
Your eyebrows pinch together as your fingers move that straw again. “There are girl killers.” 
“Yeah, but they don’t give the good kinda cinematic kills, y’know.” You’re debating on pushing. Stu can tell because your pout morphs into something contemplative as you tilt your head. “Need a refill?” 
It’s only somewhat of a deflection. Stu doesn’t mind conflict (clearly), but it’d be nice to get through the day while keeping the peace. Plus, this isn’t something worth truly arguing about, at least not after all the work he’s put into getting you to relax again. And you do need a refill because pushing against ice with your straw isn’t getting you anywhere. 
You can tell that the abruptness of the question is likely a sign to drop it. It’s random enough to fit into category of Stu’s casual outbursts, so you don’t think he’s actually trying to force you to cave so you decide to go along with it. “Yeah.” You both look forward, noticing that even though the restaurant you two are at is pretty empty, no one’s coming towards the back section of booths you two are sitting in. “Might take a minute, but that’s okay.” 
Stu absentmindedly pushes his cup towards you, too hyperaware of how alone the two of you are. You smile gratefully before innocently taking a sip. “Thanks.”
He nudges your foot with his own, gauging your reaction to the contact. You give him a somewhat questioning look but do nothing to break the contact. Stu takes a deep breath, forcing himself to not react too outwardly at your acceptance. Stu takes your lack of protest as permission to push his leg even closer against yours.  He leans forward, supporting himself on his forearms in a way that makes the sleeve of his shirt ride up enough to expose some of his forearm. “Anything for you, babe.”
You roll your eyes, but all Stu can focus on is the way the corner of your mouth pulls upwards. There’s a sarcastic retort coming, Stu can feel it. Your lips part just as your gaze hones in on something that makes your eyes widen. “What happened?” 
Awkward nerves spike through Stu briefly. The last time this much genuine, gentle concern was so openly displayed towards him was when you were at the hospital. Despite a concussion, the meds coursing through you, and enough trauma to constitute a final girl origin story, you still noticed the bruise on his face. A mark caused by you and the phone you threw at him in Casey’s house, but you didn’t know that, and the way you watched him. Your worry was so innocently domestic he almost couldn’t look at you. 
And now you’re regarding him in that same way, staring at a nearly healed mark that’ll likely take time to fade. A jagged line that cuts across the side of his palm and into the start of the back of his hand. Stu doesn’t remember cutting himself while dragging you away from the shattered glass. Instead, all that comes to mind is a vague pulse of pain drowned out by the panic he felt after realizing that you weren’t waking up.
“Broke a glass.” He hopes the casualness of the lie compensates for his vagueness. 
You frown, taking his hand without asking and forcing him to keep his palm exposed at an angle that makes his arm feel stiff. “Did it hurt?”
Stu’s glad your eyes are on his hand because now he doesn’t have to worry about hiding his smile. Your question came out so instinctually, so caring. Like the most important thing right now is if he was in pain. 
“Nah,” he breathes, “I was--” He pauses briefly, because it’s not like he can say that he was distracted by the fact that he might have given you brain damage or worse. “High. That’s why I cut myself. I was too high to think through picking up the glass.” Looking up, you tilt your head to the side, almost smiling. “Are you making fun of me?” 
“I’d never.” You’re amused now that you know everything’s okay. “Wanna know something kinda cool?” With the way you’re watching him, waiting for an answer, Stu decides that you could say anything and he’d agree that it was the coolest thing ever, even if it’s just a lead up to another book rant. “Okay, well not cool cool, honestly, a little morbid, but in a cool-ish way.” 
Now actually curious, Stu nods, “Hit me.” 
You let go of his hand in favor of holding up your palm. He doesn’t get it until you tap the pointer finger of your opposite hand against a deep pink line that traces up the skin at an angle. It’s only a little thicker than your natural palm lines. “If I angle my hand like this,” you lay your fingers over his, taking a second to adjust the way your hand’s sitting, “They look alike.” 
It’s true, or at least, true enough. When you tilt your hand like that (and ignore that Stu’s cut crosses over to the back of his palm), the lines are practically identical. You’re smiling, like this is a sign, an indication that your kind of hurt could ever align with his.
Stu hadn’t thought much about it before. It’s not like the scar is on his face or anywhere significant to his appearance. But now that you’ve brought it up like this, Stu thinks about maybe taking a knife to the cut again, guaranteeing that it’ll become something permanent. 
“Okay, cool might’ve been a little much, but--” 
“No, no,” Stu finally settles on, “It is cool, like a sign or something.” 
Your eyebrows draw together for less than a second as you deduce exactly what kind of sign he’s talking about. Stu can tell the exact moment you piece it together because you press your lips together, al most glaring as you take your hand back. Your leg shifts, tapping your foot against his ankle in an attempted scolding. “Shut up.” 
Already feeling like he knows the answer, Stu asks, “How’d you get that one?” 
Your fingers curl forward even though your palm is already facing away from him, a sign of insecurity he doesn’t get. “Y’know.” There’s a pause as you stare at nothing in particular. “At Casey’s.” 
The hollowness of your voice strikes him in an unexpected way. Yeah, what happened must have scared you and the phone call probably didn’t help, but there’s such a sensitivity around Casey. 
Stu’s rational enough that he can get that it was traumatic, but it’s not like Casey was some lifelong friend. She wasn’t even your best friend. That’s been him and Billy since you got there.
He tries not to focus on it, but it’s too easy to let that grade school mentality take over. That overwhelming mine. The only thing that even comes close to rivaling that is the ugly tinge of worry colored in an ugly shade of guilt that comes up whenever he thinks of the way that you looked in the hospital. 
It gets under his skin a little, thinking about what it felt like to hurt you. The rush of the moment was unmatched, adrenaline from the kill and your unexpected protests mixing together. And there was a moment, when you were lying there, that Stu liked in a way he can’t put into words. Exciting in a different way. But then he noticed that you weren’t waking up, and blood was puddling around your face, and then he found out about your concussion.
Stu rarely seriously considers the possibility that something about the way he’s wired is wrong. “You’re uh--” You’re watching with patient eyes as Stu vaguely gestures to his temple, “Okay with all that, right?” 
Your chin tilts upwards as you briefly slip away. Billy had talked about potentially over traumatizing you. That’s why Stu had to drop the idea of you getting another ghostface call while alone with him so soon. When Billy mentioned it, it felt like all talk, but now with you getting like this... 
It’s weird. The thought of pushing you to the cusp of your breaking point isn’t unappealing, but the thought of having you broken is another thing entirely. Being broken is permanent, being broken changes things. 
“Concussion’s gone.” It’s a mumbled comment. You tap your nails against the table again. “But if you’re asking about the other stuff. I don’t know, I hate to admit this because Casey’s the real victim...” Stu nods, a tiny bit annoyed that this is somehow about Casey again. You’re so much better off without her. She was a bad girlfriend, she wouldn’t have been a good friend to you. She would have managed to get in between the two of you in the long run. “But I have good days and bad days and that’s part of the reason I’ve been home so much. It sounds stupid, but--”
“It doesn’t sound stupid.” This is a better topic. A safer one. You nod once, but your expression isn’t convinced and Stu doesn’t know how to dive in. “And this is about you way more than it is Casey. Casey’s dead and you’re not.” The bluntness nearly makes you flinch, something Stu only somewhat dislikes. He didn’t mean to be harsh, but you needed to hear it. “What’s today?” 
The change is jarring enough to keep you from getting lost in your head again. “Today?” 
“A good day or a bad day?” 
Your expression turns, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. After a second of thought, you settle on, “Good. Especially now.” 
He beams. “Especially?” You nod, returning his enthusiasm with the single motion. Stu focuses his energy on gripping the edge of the plastic booth seat to keep himself from reaching over and pulling you towards him. He settles for nudging his foot against yours. “You want to get into the effect I have on you?” 
“Your ego’s plenty healthy as is.” 
“So it’d be good for my ego?” 
At that, you freeze, the coy expression on your face slipping. The flash of nerves fuels Stu. “Why are we friends?” It’s a cop out sort of comeback, and you instantly pop a french fry into your mouth to avoid having to say anything else for a second.
-- Y/n’s POV -- 
I didn’t expect to be here tonight, but my mom was more than happy to keep me out of the house. According to her, I’ve been a little too much into the books lately, but that’s not my fault. I fell behind a little after the attack and my concussion, and I will not let some sociopath ruin my GPA...or my social life.
Just because I feel like me and everyone I care about is safer when I’m home and out of everyone’s business doesn’t mean I need to cower in my room constantly. Even though that’s been pretty good for some of my grades (and I’ve written out some points of what I’ve been through recently that’d make a pretty good college essay), but that’s not the point. I can’t let that bitch win.
So now I’m here, sitting in Stu’s living room with the group, a movie that’s a little more bloody than I’d like playing. It’s okay, though. Everyone’s reaction to me showing up again was worth it. They weren’t overdramatic about it, but the warmth of it was nice.
Now we’re all a mess of blankets and pillows and couch cushions. I managed to snag a middle spot on the main couch, Tate’s head on my shoulder and Billy’s hand loosely resting against my forearm. The gesture is a barely there display of consistency that keeps me relaxed, even as the on screen action gets more and more gory. 
“Stu,” Tatum mumbles at another extended stabbing scene, “I said nothing too stab-y.” She lifts her head slightly, vaguely gesturing to me as Stu tilts his head far enough back to fully press into her knees. 
He’s been sitting with his back to the couch since we got here. I thought he’d be more annoying about it since Tatum told him to knock it off earlier in the night, but once the movie started Stu dropped it. If there’s one thing that’ll get Stu to focus it’s any movie that clearly saved a large part of their budget for fake blood.
“She’s fine,” Stu hums petulantly before turning to look at me, “Aren’t you, bugaboo?” 
I wrinkle my noise at the nickname, smacking his hand away as he reaches for my knee. Gory movies have been a little difficult for me lately, but this hasn’t been too bad. I’m surrounded by people in a well lit area and every time the action picks up, Billy runs his knuckles up and down my forearm until it ends. 
Stu pokes at my knee, trying to get some kind of reaction. “It’s not that--Stu, knock it off, I’m literally agreeing with you.” At that, he flashes all of his teeth before leaning towards me. He sticks his tongue out, quickly licking the side of my knee before I can react. Stu has the audacity to laugh as I smack the back of his head. “Stu!” 
“And...you two not fighting lasted an entire hour.” Randy sighs, glaring at us from his own seat. The pinch of actual irritation in his voice is fair. Stu and I haven’t exactly made it easy to be around us. Our casual bickering is a cakewalk compared to how we’ve been acting. Kind of more my fault than his because every time Stu tried to force niceness, that’d just irritate me more. Lots of petty comments. Lots of bickering. “New record.” 
“Oh, there’s no fight,” Stu’s insistence is loud and over enthusiastic as he leans his weight against my leg. “Me and sweetcheeks here are as strong as ever.” 
I sit up enough to gently flick the side of his head, “Keep telling yourself that.” 
Stu lets out a mock gasp, “That wasn’t nice.” 
Billy taps my arm, “Mean.” 
Shrugging a little too smugly, I sink further into the couch, “Guess I’m a bully.” 
Stu blinks, turning his head even more, “What. An. Attitude.” The over emphasis on each syllable makes my face feel oddly warm. 
Tatum shifts, lifting her head off of me and kicking Stu’s side. It doesn’t look like a totally violent move but it feels more pointed than a joking shove. The way Stu sits up straighter tells me he didn’t quite expect that. “Knock it off.” 
Frowning, Stu relaxes his back against the couch. “She started it.” 
----
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queen-of-scissors · 1 year
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Hello there 💧anon
I don’t know if you celebrate Christmas but if you feel comfortable with it could you write something post imposter au where the reader is forgiving and all and the reader wants to celebrate but is walking on eggshells and is scared to introduce anything new as to not anger the acolytes and lots of comfort
Merry Christmas or whatever you celebrate
İ. Must. Finish. This. Before. New year!!!!
Also i don't celebrate Christmas but i think i have a good understanding of the things thats done in it, so ill try my best ^^
İf i wrote something that sounds rude in anyway to any culture i apologise, feel free to correct me in the comments i love learning more about cultures :)
Happy Christmas or New year or Yule or whichever you celebrate :D ☃️❄️
masterlist
WARNİNGS: no specific gender, mentions of alcohol, angst with comfort, the reader is physically hurt in the flashback
___________________________________
Memories of the snow.
________________________________________
The warm weather of Dragonspine slowly caresses your face.
İt wasn't supposed to be warm, but then again, a lot of the thing that you lived through wasn't supposed to happen at all. Maybe it's because it's supposed to be codes, You had to start to get used to that.
İt hurt to walk, but you can't stop yet. İf you don't find something edible soon you might pass out from exhaustion, which could make you an easy target for your... Hunters.
Just as you think about food, you realize a sweet aroma filling the air.
Ever since you got here, you have been unbelievably lucky, maybe whichever god that's up there pitied you, or maybe this is a trap.
Either way, you slowly walk up the path, hoping to find a hilichurl camp and not fatui ones as the nice smell is getting stronger.
You couldn't help but daydream about the food you might eat, it doesn't smell like regular Hilichurl meat, which doesn't even smell at all. Maybe it's 'goulash'? The food for Dragonspine that helps you to survive longer in the harsh wind. Though you don't really need it in this condition.
Maybe it's not red meat, it smells less strong for it, is it 'sweet Madame'? You always wanted to eat some ever since you fell here. You tried to recreate it but all you could do was eat chicken that tasted like grass.
As the smell is getting closer, you slowly begin to wake up.
---------------------------------------------
"Your highness? Are you still resting?"
You opened your eyes, and your golden abode greets you once again.
The nightmare, no, the flashback felt so real. You could still feel the hunger in your stomach and the warmth of the food you were about to eat in the dream.
... Also the Sharp pain piercing through your right shoulder before you could even get your first bite.
"I apologize for disturbing you," the voice from the back of the door spoke up. "However we need to start your Schedule immediately, it is a busy day today"
Their voice was apologetic, kind even, but it still made your blood run cold by how assertive it felt over you.
"I'm up. İ will be out soon" you got up from the bed immediately as the voice started telling you what needs to be done today.
Your clothes were so uncomfortably comfortable. it was light and it wraps your body perfectly, which was the same exact reason why it felt like it got stuck on your skin. Which is why you didn't feel bad that you had to take them out.
You threw your clothes on your work table and your eyes got stuck on the calendar on it.
...oh it was New year already?
İt might not be in your own world, since time works differently between them. You wonder if it's snowing there? Perhaps it just started, or maybe the snow is thick enough to have a snowball fight.
You missed Earth. You really did. Even the times when it felt suffocating to live in sometimes. Even the times you were forced to have family dinners on occasion, well, those weren't that bad. You usually sat somewhere playing genshin when your family members scolded you for being on your phone.
Back then, you would kill for meeting your characters under the mistletoe.
... But now, maybe it's better not to meet them at all.
İts not that you are angry at them, you even forgive them after all that! They didn't know who you were after all, but you still feel like you are walking on a landmine every time you talk to them.
What if you say something or ask something that you are not supposed to, what then? They say that they have no reason to hurt you, but you learned that all of your current power is depending on your people the moment you set foot here.
You are nothing without your followers.
Your thoughts get cut off by the door opening once you finish getting dressed.
You are greeted by Tartaglia, who was smiling at you warmly, however, it looked so fake to you. You could almost picture him practicing in front of the mirror just so it looks friendly and approachable to you. You still appreciated the thought.
"Good morning, your Grace! Please excuse my sudden visit, I just needed to speak with you for a moment."
"...Of course," you decide to avert your eyes to the furniture, suddenly the numbers on the calendar seemed so interesting than whatever repent prayer he has for you.
He gets to his one knee, "oh, the all-loving and forgiving god of all gods, we are but merely weaklings under your strength, perhaps I ask too much, however... Err..." He stops and then continues.
"However i-"
"That..." You cut in a soft voice, you averted your eyes once you realized what you've done. "sorry I didn't mean to stop you I just..." you looked at him again "this doesn't sound like you at all."
You let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding when Ajax laughs "Hahaha, is it that obvious that I practiced?"
His friendly voice eases your tension a bit. He continues with a more relaxed tone.
"İ didn't want to anger you more than I already have, and what I'm about to ask for might sound a bit selfish, so I asked Mr. Zhongli on how can I speak properly, without disrespecting you in any way." İt was his turn to avert his eyes now.
"...Why?"
Ajax looks back at you, confused "What do you mean, your Grace?"
"I already said I forgive all, what makes you think İ'm still angry?"
"...Well" Ajax gets up from where he was and attempts to fix his posture before continuing, "Forgive me if it's rude in any way, your holiness, however..."
"Your smile seems fake."
You freeze.
When he sees your expression, he turns back to Tartaglia again. The only-business part of himself. The cold one.
"İ know what we've done is unforgivable. You are truly the most kind to not even want us to witness your wrath. but please, no need to fake it to make us feel better."
They think that you are still mad, while you are just afraid.
You want to tell them. You want to explain and talk about it, but you can't even bring yourself to open your mouth.
Why are you still afraid? War is already over. They need to know that too!
So be it. İf you can't bring yourself to talk about that. Maybe you can prove to them you are not mad by showing them.
"...let's talk about that later. What did you need from me?"
He looks at you "ok then, uh... its almost time for the festival in Shneznaya, we do that at every start of the year to celebrate- uhh, you might already know,
İ won't be personally attending, of course! Someone needs to protect you~" he winks "But, my siblings are a bit hard to convince. They want to spend time with me and well..."
"Do you want to go?"
Tartaglia laughs again "I won't lie and say that I don't miss my homeland. But that's not why I'm here."
He smiles a bit, you swore you could see his eyes light up a little, but it's gone as soon as you saw it, it might just be the sun playing tricks on you.
"My siblings want to spend the holiday with me. İ know it's selfish of me to ask to bring children to such a holy place-"
"You can bring them."
He turns his head towards you as soon as you let those words get past your lips, "Realy?"
You think about it. They are just children, they can't really harm you. Plus it might be even nice hearing about the holidays.
"Yeah! İt would be nice to have children at the dinner table. İt might even help release tension caused by my presence." You thought out loud.
He catches up on that.
"You would be pretty anxious too if you were at a table with your god~" he teased.
You smiled, and Ajax could suddenly feel his numb heart all over again.
"Maybe you are right, thank you. Ajax"
Ajax didn't answer. You called for him but he looks at you like how a reindeer would look at the car flash.
"OH SHİ- AJAX BREATH!!!!"
________________________________________
You were wrong.
Now that you feel less scared of the things around you, you can finally see that your acolytes feel somewhat worse.
Your grand dinner table was decorated with the customs of the Shneznayan festival. İt was a beautiful combination of white, red, green, and Gold. İt was almost the same as Christmas in your own world, the only difference was instead of the big decorated tree, there was a statue of you.
That, and your acolytes looking at their plate in shame, as if seeing even a piece of your hair is sacrilege.
Even with their close proximity, Archons were still the least close to you in terms of emotions. Their usual chattiness from in-game voice lines was long gone, you were sure you could even make Zhongli eat seafood in this state of his mind.
The gods were, of course, sitting closest to you. Usually, no one else joins you on your meals but on occasion, some people are invited over just because of formalities. Even then, your guests sit at another table, which is far away from you but in a place where you can still see their faces.
Not in this situation though. You especially requested that they dine with you at the same table. Making Tartaglia the Target of the glares tonight.
This heavy atmosphere makes you feel like you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn't talk about it and treat it as a normal dinner, hearing about your world might make them feel worse, and if it gets worse-
"Your highness!!! Look what I drew!"
You look at Teucer. He is holding a drawing he made of you.
You feel everyone holding their breath as you gently take the drawing from his hands. Will you think of it as blasphemy?
İn the drawing, you hold his hand and someone else's hand while all three of you fly through, what seems to be, Shneznaya's City... İn the arms of a ruin guard.
"This is so nice Teucer! Thank you so much!"
Teucer lets out an excited gasp, "You know my name?!"
"Of course! İ know a lot of things" you smiled warmly and looked at his other siblings "I also know about Tonia and Anthon!"
As the kids look at each other all excitedly, the room suddenly seems a little bit lighter.
"Yes, the Creator knows everything indeed!" Ajax tells them. "They also know when you don't eat your greens and that makes them sad you know~"
"You guys don't eat your vegetables?" You play along "but I created them for you"
Tonia stutters "b-but... They don't taste good!"
Anthon joins in "But you ALSO created fish! So we can eat those!"
You laugh, they are pretty smart, huh!
"Well, I have nothing to say to that! Please eat as much as you like from whatever you like today!"
The children go back to their meals as the table falls silent once more,
Until you hear a mouse squeak in the crowd.
"Your highness did you just laugh?!" Venti partially screams, with that voice, you understand that the mouse was him all along.
"Barbatos, have some manners!" Zhongli suddenly speaks "Did you forget where you might be, or shall I remind you?"
"your laugh sounds so refreshing, your Grace! Like pure water in the middle of a desert!" Sais Nahida, clearly happy for you!
"AHEM, might I remind you all that this sudden outburst can scare them?" Tsaritsa states politely.
"But we never heard them laugh! I think this deserves a celebration!" Venti says while getting up "İM GETTİNG THE VİNE!!!"
"Stop! There are children here!" Childe gets up to stop him.
"İ- uhm, it's really not that big of a deal?" You say softly.
"Please don't mind those idiots, your grace." Tsaritsa shoots a glare across the table. "They simply can't control their emotions, however, I must say, even though it is rare for me to actually agree with that drunkard, I also believe that this calls for a celebration."
Nahida continues before you could say anything "I also agree! İt's been a while since we heard your laugh again. A celebration for the bird, that has found its voice once again!"
"Speaking of the Celebration, is anything particular about this festival that made you want to open up to us again?" Falcuar asked.
"Oh yeah! Why is this cooolldd festival but not a better one? Like the wind-"
Venti was silenced by two very angry gods, and forced to sit down on his chair again.
"Well? Tell us!" The god of Pyro beamed.
And at that moment, after months and months of convincing, you finally felt safe enough to show emotions. Which made you feel all of them at the same time and...
"YOUR HOLİNESS-"
"İt's ok," Nahida smiled gently "please let it all out, you don't need to stop yourself from feeling anymore."
"I swear if you make a reference to pooping about it I will-"
"Hehehe, as you wish!"
-----------------------------------------------
You finally let go of -most- of your fears and told them more about the traditions in your world.
They finally understand your point of view. They approach you gently now.
Nahida suggested babyproof your abode so you don't feel any accidental physical pain that reminds you of those times. İt's up to you to accept or not.
The bubbly types try not to do sudden things that May scare you (Yoimiya even tries to find a way to make soundless fireworks (failed))
And most of all, people don't beg for forgiveness every time they see you now!
However, you couldn't stop them from celebrating this day as the day of your smile. They give presents to each other as a way to bring a smile to their, and your, face. They also stole some of the traditions in your world just so it makes you feel more at home.
They hope that you will smile and be happy the next year as well :)
❄️🎉Happy New year, creator!!!🎉❄️
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steviesbicrisis · 1 year
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Sometimes, Robin disappears.
Steve doesn’t know where she goes nor can tell how long she’s gonna be gone, usually she’s away just for a couple of hours and comes back acting like everything is fine.
It doesn’t scare Steve any less.
He knows she doesn’t do it to mess with him, and despite being attached to the hip since Starcourt there’s still a lot they don’t know about with each other.
When she’s gone, Steve’s mind those a whole 360 on every possible scenario: when his mind is good to him, she’s hanging out with imaginary way-cooler-than-Steve friends, who don’t know of his existence because Robin is embarrassed by him, which leaves him with a sting of jealousy until he hears back from her; when it’s a little less kind, he imagines her being attacked by Russians, or abducted by an Upside down creature, or both. She usually comes back before he leaves everything to jump in his car and frantically look for her.
The thing is, Robin acts like everything is fine and Steve doesn’t know how to approach it. She’s fine before, she’s fine after, and he doesn’t know where he stands. He doesn’t know if this attachment for Robin is okay or if it’s going to scare her away, so he lets her set the rules and he follows the best he can, trying not to die of worry in the meantime.
One day, Robin doesn’t go to school.
He comes to pick her up at the usual time but she isn’t on her porch steps, ready to scold him for being late. He rings the doorbell but no one answers, her parents are often out early in the morning and she doesn’t have any siblings, so he guesses she might have gone to school without him.
He drives to school and stands near the entrance, trying to spot her while planning how to make her feel guilty for not giving him any heads-up on the change of plans.
She’s nowhere to be found.
He drives to the streets nearby, then to the library and the park, no trace of her anywhere.
He goes to work telling himself she’s probably fine, she must’ve overslept or she was already in class or she had early band practice. It doesn’t calm his mind even a little bit. Because it's not like Robin to skip school, she has never done this before, or at least since Steve has known her. Before his mind spirals again thinking that he doesn’t even know his best friend, he decides to focus on work and look for her after, hoping she will call in the meantime to let him know she wasn’t eaten alive by a Demogorgon.
At 5:01 PM he’s out of the store and ready to search every corner of the town until he finds Robin.
He’s driving on the road coasting Lovers Lake when he notices Robin’s bike. Steve’s heart beats fast as he abruptly gets out of the road and parks next to it.
The bike is parked in perfect conditions so Steve feels safe enough to exclude a Will Byers situation and ventures into the coastline to look for her.
He notices her before she can: Robin is sitting cross-legged on an old bench, heavy book in her hands, looking very relaxed and completely out of danger.
Steve’s worry quickly turns into anger.
“Are you insane?” He asks when he’s close enough to be heard.
Robin winces, she was too immersed in her book to notice anyone coming near. She looks surprised to see him there “What are you doing here, dingus?”
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here!” Steve retorts, hands on his hips.
Robin recognizes the scolding-children pose and doesn’t like it “I am clearly reading and enjoying the nice weather, or at least I was until you came to bother me!”
“Oh, now I am bothering you? So sorry to interrupt your getaway because I thought you were dead!”
Robin slams her book closed “Are you serious? I was just taking a break, I needed alone time!”
“Take all the breaks you want but at least give me a fucking heads up so I know I don’t have to look for you around town like a maniac” he gestures at the area where he parked her car, his voice getting louder.
“I really don’t understand where this is coming from, I’ve been coming here to read for years, and no one as ever-“
“Well, maybe that’s because you didn’t have a best friend who worried about you!”
Steve regrets it as soon as he says it. Robin looks stunned, she opens and closes her mouth several times, then looks away.
After a minute of heavy silence between them, Steve approaches the bench and sits next to her, looking at the lake.
“I’m sorry,” they say at the same time.
“I shouldn’t have said that” Steve continues “I was worried but that is my problem and you don’t have to tell me anything.”
“No, you’re right” she shakes her head “I’m not used to having people worried about me. My parents are great but they don’t really question where I go every day and…” she glances at Steve quickly, then looks down at her book again “I’m not used to friends caring like that either.”
Never in a million years Steve would’ve guessed that one day he would’ve related so much to Robin Buckley.
“Why do you leave?” He dares to ask.
“I just need it sometimes. Everything gets too loud, there’s too much going on and I feel… overwhelmed” she explains.
Steve doesn't understand that, he has felt overwhelmed before but he would never leave or ask for space from people close to him. Sometimes, he misses Tommy and Carol just because they barely gave him any space. But it seems something important to Robin, so he nods.
"so, school was too much today?"
"no, I mean yes, but no" she groans, frustrated "It's just that- school is fine and I have my quiet places but... I had a nightmare. This wasn’t the first time since Starcourt but it was the most terrifying I had."
Steve doesn't say anything, and Robin grows more embarrassed by the minute. She's ready to tell him to forget about it when she feels Steve's hand taking hers and intertwining their fingers.
She remembers back on the Starcourt's roof, when she got scared shitless and her hand immediately found Steve's. She was still scared but comforted by the idea that Steve was with her.
Steve is looking the opposite way from where she's sitting on his left, so she can't see his face when he speaks "I have them too. Just tell me next time instead of giving me more nightmares material."
"Uh sure" she manages to say. She's not used to getting this sappy with Steve, or anyone else for that matter.
She squeezes his hand "so, is part of the Harrington charm to get all smushy?"
Steve squeezes back "fuck off! My art of charming is so much more than that!"
"Oh really, please do tell, I am so ready to take notes on how to woo all the ladies!"
"First of all: Hair."
Steve goes into a detailed list of things Robin should mind more ("I could do your hair" "never in a million years, dingus") and Robin groans and rolls her eyes at most of his points ("I so dress better than you" "you wear suspenders, Buckley. Unironically").
They keep holding hands the whole time.
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watatsumiis · 1 year
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Reader with chronic headaches series - Dottore edition
Yes. this is self indulgent. I deserve it because head hurty and i can just feel its gonna get worse. As bonkers as he is, i think he'd be a great person to have look after you when you're not well (provided you have a close bond with him). Be aware that this is heavily based off of my own experiences with chronic headaches and migraines (and what I do to look after myself when I have them), and is not indicative of everyone's experiences.
Content: Gender neutral reader (implied to have chronic headaches and/or migraines), pre-established platonic relationship with Dottore, just. general Dottore warning, he's a little creepy and likes to keep lists about people.
At first, he's weird about it. He's trying to note down your symptoms and figure out exactly what's wrong, giving you solutions that (surprise surprise) don't work. It would almost be sweet if you didn't know he saw you more as a puzzle to solve at this point.
The idea of chronic illnesses is like a challenge to this man, he's so annoying about it, constantly bothering you about your symptoms, asking you to chart your headaches, where you'd rate them on a scale of one to ten, etc., at this point, he's almost more of a headache than the headaches themselves.
Eventually though, he calms down a bit and starts being actually helpful. He's very observant, so he picks up on the common signals you give off when you've got a headache or a migraine coming on, even if you don't notice them yourself.
When he notices, he'll have someone wordlessly bring you a cool glass of water and your pain relief of choice, sometimes even offer to take over your more menial duties to remove some stress from you.
He takes careful note of what you do to help alleviate them and will replicate those actions, sometimes sternly ordering you around when you're continuing to try and push yourself further. Being of such a high rank, he's easily able to take advantage of it to give you a day or two off.
He'll usher you into a quiet, dark room with a nice cool temperature and a pile of blankets, making sure you're stocked up with plenty of water and your preferred brand of pain relief, while nattering away about what he thinks may be the root cause of your pain this time (as much as he tries to eliminate all potential causes, some still manage to slip through the cracks).
He's uncharacteristically tender with you when you're in pain, especially if he feels guilty for not noticing before it got as bad as it has. He's gentle and speaks in a soft, low voice that's both easy to understand and listen to even through the ringing in your ears.
Though he's used to how your symptoms manifest, it doesn't mean that he worries any less - he still checks up on you just a little too often, but he always tries extremely hard not to disturb you, especially if you decide to take a nap or have a lie down.
He makes sure you're extra stocked up with your favourite snacks, blankets and comfort items, and might even try to find you something simple to keep you entertained that isn't too much strain on your head if you get bored or restless (you're not sure where he got these colouring pages from, but they're well made!)
The amount of documentation he keeps on you is almost unnerving, there's enough there that, even when he's not around, there'll be someone who has been given a briefing and knows exactly what to do to help you.
Once you're feeling better, he scolds you if you overworked yourself or acted too stubborn, insisting that he's a doctor and you should listen to him.
Overall, he's a great person to have take care of you when you're not feeling a hundred percent. He's willing to field almost any request if it'll get you back up and feeling well again.
Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites (without credit + permission).
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