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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day

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All In 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's Rebecca Black day

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As expected, your mother is waiting anxiously for your return. It’s not often you’re at the mercy of her disapproval but she has some choice words for both you and Roxie.

Why didn’t you call? You forgot to, everything was so chaotic. Why would you make me worry like that? You know how I am, it isn’t fair to not answer your phone. I was about to call the police. You’ve heard the same aimed at your sister dozens of times but it’s much different to be at the end of it.

Once she’s done and you feel thoroughly guilty, you retreat to your room. That’s all you wanted. For the last day, all you wanted was to hide away. Yet, now that you’re safely behind familiar walls, you still feel unsettled.

That’s enough excitement for a lifetime. How does Roxie think that is fun? It’s terrifying.

You take out your laptop, your most prized possession, and sink back into your virtual cave. It’s safe there. The things you see on the internet are distant and often times fake. Fanfiction and streams and discussion boards. It’s all so menial and unimportant. It’s not finding a job and dragging your butt to work five days a week or disappointing your mother.

Mm, well, you should check the job boards again. Something’s going to come up eventually. That’s what everyone says and those people have jobs. Even Roxie works, even if it is at a night club. It’s work and she brings home some impressive tips. When your mom asked her to get you a gig, she just laughed.

You interviewed at Taco Bell a few weeks ago but you haven’t got a call. That’s probably not going to work out. Move on, try again and again and again.

The computer doesn’t keep your focus as usual. Maybe it’s that you’re overtired or that your mom was so upset or everything that happened last night, but you just can’t rein it in. You close your laptop and lay flat on your bed. You close your eyes, exhaustion hot on your eyelids, but you can’t sleep. You’re no good at napping. What are you good at?

You sigh and kick your feet. What are you going to do? You can’t spend another summer like this. You’re not like everyone else. You didn’t get into your school and you didn’t get some lofty job from your uncle’s company. As much as you can blame it on other’s luck, you have to acknowledge you’re own shortcoming. You procrastinate, you get nervous, and sometimes, you just avoid things altogether.

You get up and grab your purse. The strap catches on your sweater and knocks it onto the floor. You search for your phone and pull it out. You bend to retrieve your cardigan and toss it with your purse back onto the dress. You look down as something flutters onto the carpet.

You didn’t forget about the little note. It’s the weight that been on your shoulders. You take your phone and the paper and sit on the side of the bed. You can rip it up, crumple it and toss it in the bin, pretend nothing ever happened. You should. Just forget about the worst night of your life.

You can’t. It’s not about your sister’s drunken display or your embarrassment. It’s about a job.

You hang your head as your nose tingles. Your mom works her butt off and she’s so giving. You want to return the favour. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just you paying for some of the groceries or a bill or giving her a few bucks. If you don’t try this time, you won’t be able to forget. You’ll always know that you are the reason you came up short.

You unlock your phone and key in the number. You drop it and let the paper fall too as you stand. You pace around in circles until you’re dizzy. You hate making phone calls. The sound of your own voice is grating. Ugh.

No, you have to do it. You can do this. It’s one phone call. What if that’s the job? What if you’re answering a phone? Get over yourself. Grow up!

You pick up your phone and hit call. Your chest locks up. You can’t breathe. Oh god. If you can’t breathe you can’t speak. You hang up and squeak. Frig. No, don’t give up.

You try again. This time, you force out an exhale and shakily hold the phone to your ear. There’s an answer after two rings.

“Barnes,” a voice declares from the other end.

“Erm, oh, Bucky? It’s... me,” you stutter out, giving your name as you realise he won’t recognise your voice.

“Ah, hi, doll, give me a moment, one sec,” he says and you hear a scuffing on the other end and a muffled ‘excuse me’. His movement rustles and he clears his throat directly into the speaker, “there we are, doll, all yours. How are you?”

“Uh, alright, I’m fine, er, oh... you?” You close your eyes, Just melt into a puddle and absorb into the carpet.

“Doing great now, hearing from you,” he purrs, “I’m very happy you called.”

“Mhm, well...” you put your hand to your neck. Your skin is burning. “I... was calling about the job. In the note.”

“Of course, doll, so you’re interested?”

Desperate, but you won’t tell him that. “Yes, please, I mean--” you cringe. You’re not ordering ice cream, “would... what would be... would there be an interview?”

“Sure, doll,” he says. His tone is light and airy. Is he making fun of you or are you just self-conscious? Both, probably. “How about you come by the casino tomorrow at noon? Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, uh, whenever,” you agree, “I can get a ride.”

“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait,” he coos.

“Right, uh, okay, yeah, I’ll see you,” you babble dumbly.

“Mm, yeah, see ya then, doll,” he intones.

“Yep, er, bye.”

“Bye--”

You hang up in a half-panic. You did it. You made the call and you got an interview. You think. The conversation wasn’t what you expected but you think it went well.

You blow out through your lips and grip your phone tight. Your heart hammers again. You march to the door and stop just before you can grip the knob. You’re excited but scared to tell your mom.

You swing the door open and clammer through. You hear her in the kitchen doing dishes. It’s Roxie turn so of course your sister is sitting on the couch nursing another coffee.

“Mom,” you slow and tap your phone against your leg as you stop by the counter, “I... I got an interview.”

“An interview?” Her surprise is genuine, both in her expression and her voice as she looks at you. Her face blooms in a smile. “That’s wonderful. When?”

“Tomorrow,” you utter.

“Tomorrow?” She echoes.

“At noon.”

“Noon, okay, I can come home from work and drive you, but you’ll have to get a cab home. I should have enough for the fare.”

“Ah, yeah, okay,” you clutch your phone in front of you and sway, “thanks.”

“No problem,” she chimes, “where is it?”

“What?”

“The interview.”

“Oh, at the casino.”

“The casino?” She turns back to the sink and stares into the water as she scrubs, “hm, interesting. What will you be doing?”

“Hm, I... don’t know yet. Maybe a cleaner.”

“Oh, that’s not bad at all,” she says, “think I have a shirt you can wear. Maybe I could hem a pair of my pants for you tonight.”

“Mom, you don’t have to--”

“You should look nice,” she undercuts, “it’s not a big deal. Besides, it would be really good if you got a job.”

You nod. You can hear the thinness in her voice. She tries to hide it but you know it’s not easy around here. You saw the red notice in the mail box and heard her on the phone with the landlord. The bough is close to breaking.

“Thanks, I’ll... I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will,” she trills.

You smile and go back to your room. You shut the door and shudder. Great, now you’ve hurdled over the phone call, you can dread what comes next. Not just venturing out into the general public but going to an interview. It’s one thing after another. It feels like a lot after so long of nothing.

🃏

Your mom lets you out in Lot 4. It’s far from the main entrance but she’s in a hurry to get back to work. You won’t keep her. You can walk a bit.

The sun has you sweating along with the polyester trousers. The belt is pinned and the legs have been hastily hemmed. The blouse doesn’t breathe either but you managed to iron the wrinkle out of the sleeve.

You come to the front doors and steel yourself. Your mascara sticks as you feel the perspiration around your eyes. Oof. You did your best to follow the tutorial with your sister's borrowed makeup but you skipped the eye liner; it only ever turns out smudgy.

You enter and the air conditioning cools the heat in your cheeks and chest. The woman behind the counter greets you with a smile and a ‘how are you’ before asking if you’re checking in. You’re almost speechless at the sight of her. She’s so pretty and she can do the contour the way those girls on Youtube do. You wouldn’t be good for that job; not gorgeous like her.

“Um, yeah, actually, I’m here for an interview,” you say.

“An interview?” She tilts her head, “I didn’t see anything...” she clicks around with the slim mouse on the desk, “who were you interviewing with?”

“Bucky, uh, Mr. Barnes,” you say. “Well, I spoke with him. Maybe I’m supposed to talk to someone else?”

She says your name and glances from the screen to you. You nod, “yeah?”

“Right, okay, I see,” she keeps her shining smile, “Mr. Barnes has a car waiting for you.”

“A car?” Your brows pop up. “Alright.”

“If you just want to head back out, it should be waiting there. You’ll see Merv, he has white hair.”

“Okay, thanks,” you reply then gulp as you turn around.

You turn slowly and go back to the doors. What is going on? He said to meet him here but he isn’t here? He would be a busy man. You just hope you don’t blow it.

You pull the doors open and come down the shallow steps. A man with white hair stands by a dark car. One more mountain to climb.

“Uh, hello, are you... Merv?”

“That’s me, miss,” he stands straight, “you must be the lady.”

“I... guess.”

“Come on then,” he turns and opens the door, “Mr. Barnes doesn’t like to wait.”

“Okay, sorry,” you step off the curb and climb into the car.

The door shuts and you buckle up. At least the interior is cool. You snap the belt into place as Merv gets in the front. He rests a hand on the wheel and points with the other.

“You want this up or down?” He points to the barrier between the front and back.

“Oh, I don’t... whatever you like,” you shrug.

He chuckles, “miss, you’re a lot sweeter than the other ones.”

Other ones? Of course there would be other candidates. You wonder if this is a test. If maybe Merv is going to tell Bucky that you’re too quiet.

“Do you like Springsteen?” He asks as he slowly pulls out.

“Don’t mind him,” you answer. Honestly, you don’t really know any of his music.

Merv flips on the stereo, “I like you even more.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #casino au #mcu #marvel #all in #series #captain america #winter soldier

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periprose · 2 days

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Bedside Manner - Chapter One

The Ghoul x Reader

When it comes to job prospects in the Wasteland, being a nurse isn't all that lucrative. So you're Dom Pedro's assistant, where your nurse skills of administering drugs come in handy with sedating the Ghoul. (Not really following canon, just taking my own spin on stuff)

Genre: fluff, fallout angst (more in future chaps anyways), strangers to accomplices to ambivalent friends to lovers, heated moments of tension, probably eventual smut

Word count: 2.2k

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Holy fuck, does shoveling do a number on your back.

You groan as you roll back your shoulder, and throw the shovel behind you.

Dom Pedro has been on your ass about this shift. You have to take the Ghoul to Dom’s workshop, where he’ll carve him up, when the sedatives have worn off and the pain will be ever-present and lingering. You figure Dom’s angry about something else– and what better outlet is there than torturing a ghoul?

It’s not something you like to do, carrying this extremely heavy, tall undead-man through Dom Pedro’s house by using a rope system and tugging, and then after Dom Pedro’s had his fun. re-administering drugs that will prevent the feral nature from taking him over, but it’s necessary and it pays well.

Pedro’s a little too elite to do this himself anyways. That’s why he hired you, a former nurse who used to work at a charitable hospital– one that was eventually claimed by the Brotherhood.

You try not to think too much about your former, much more fulfilling career.

The mildly disturbing scent of a living corpse hits you as you open up the casket. The Ghoul isn’t the worst ghoul you’ve ever had to look at, but he’s still a little creepy, and you stare at him as he lies there.

Is he awake? Pretending to be asleep so you’ll be caught off guard, and his gun will fire rapidly, making a bloody mess out of you?

You’re well aware of the risks. You just have to hope that today’s chemical cocktail IVs are correct, and enough is administered inside him so that he’s truly, really, fast asleep.

You carefully tie around his wrists and legs– you feel, somehow, the slightest bit of warmth, something that could suggest a pulse from the veins of his wrists– but you know that’s ridiculous and continue on.

Dragging him to the workshop makes you feel a little guilty. His face sometimes smacks onto the wooden floors of this cabin if you’re not careful, and you always whisper a hushed “Sorry!” Even though he’s not human.

You don’t want to be on his bad side, even if he can’t hear you.

“Why the fuck isn’t there a more moral way to make caps?” You exhale, a common complaint you always have.

You tie him to the torture-chair, wrapping rope around his torso and arms and legs, so he can’t break free, adjusting his hat so it stays on, and because– despite the Ghoul’s reputation as a bounty hunter, you feel like he deserves a little respect with his belongings– and now you’re waiting for Dom Pedro to come and cut him up.

You don’t know why Dom Pedro does this. Is there some sort of use for ghoul skin and blood that you don’t know about? Or is it just purely torture, since Dom Pedro’s kept the Ghoul alive for so long, even giving him the false kindness of anti-feral ghoul drugs so he’ll be entirely aware of every inch Dom Pedro’s knife cuts into him?

You don’t know. And it’s not exactly like you’re important enough to know that information, anyways.

The Ghoul stirs awake. He blinks– he’s back in the workshop, yet again.

He’s only half aware of how he gets here. He knows there’s definitely a woman involved– someone soft, with pliant fingers and hesitant motions that suggest she doesn’t want him to get hurt as she drags him from sleep to being butchered– he only vaguely remembers seeing her back, just once, maybe a few months ago.

He turns to the side, ready for Dom Pedro to be seething in the corner over whatever their beef was and brandishing that scary, rusted axe.

He’s not there.

Oh. The Ghoul blinks again, his eyes clearing up as he does.

It’s you. You’re the woman, the nurse that Dom Pedro uses to administer all these drugs into him.

It’s almost a little shocking, a little tantalizing to him to actually see you. Two-hundred years of memories doesn’t exactly give him the most clear of minds, but he knows you’re the one who’s always just hazy, on the edge of his peripheral vision after being tortured, in his dreams after you sedate him.

“Hey, nurse…” He can hardly talk, but you jolt in your spot, and turn to him.

“Uh–” You stare at him, entirely flabbergasted. “You’re not supposed to be awake!”

“Well, I am. What’re you gonna do about it?” He yawns, still ever so slightly woozy from the drugs.

The Ghoul notices a knife on the table. He tips his head toward it.

“Cut me free.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” You shake your head immediately. “Dom Pedro will kill me.”

“Dom Pedro’s a bitch if he’s killing someone willing to do the hard work for what, a couple hundred caps?” The Ghoul raises his non-existent eyebrows, and you swallow. “You don’t know how rare that is nowadays.”

“And I’m supposed to just trust you? The Ghoul, the most terrifying, ruthless, brutal killer I’ve ever known?” You narrow your eyes at him, with every adjective tossed out of your hissing mouth, coming closer and closer to him.

“I like how you describe me, keep going.” He jokes, looking up at you, but he snarls suddenly and you flinch.

The Ghoul grins in satisfaction, white pearly teeth, very square and rigid in their appearance, something that should look handsome on the right person and instead, is a little unnerving right now.

Still attractive, though, and you question yourself.

“Let me go, sweetheart, and I promise your death won’t be as half as painful as he could make it.” He drawls, and you swallow but shake your head.

“I’m not interested in being a mercy kill.” You state, and he sucks on his teeth.

“That’s a mistake.” He leans closer to you, somehow straining against your carefully tied knots to do so. “I’d be doing you a favour.”

“Well, I’m a coward. I’m not all rough and tough and shooting every single person I see, unlike you and Dom Pedro. I’m not gonna die in glorious battle, and I don’t want to die anyways.” You’re glum. “I only took this job because being associated with him protects me.”

The Ghoul is silent for a moment.

“And what if you were associated with me?” He asks, not actually intending anything serious, but he feels an urge to tease you ever so slightly. “That’s protection, isn’t it?”

“What?” You glance back at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs. “Maybe because I’m trying to bargain my way out of here, maybe because you’re the one who’s been kind enough to make sure I’m not chafing with how you tie these fucking ropes– and I’m assuming you drug me, right, sweetheart? You dull the sick pains he gives me.”

“Uh… yeah, I do.” You pause. “Stop trying to sweet talk me, Ghoul.”

“Nah, nurse. It’s funny and I wonder what Dom Pedro will do when he sees you talking to me.” The Ghoul says, another shit-eating grin upon his face.

Oh.

That’s actually quite bad, you think. The Ghoul hasn’t just been trying to coax you with compliments so you’d help him escape– the longer he’s kept you in this conversation, the closer you’ve gotten to his Plan B: Dom Pedro’s wrath.

“I’m guessing a smart lady like you would be more afraid of him.” The Ghoul keeps prodding, and you glare at him. “Rather than me.”

You know he’s right. Your eyes give away what you’re thinking as you ever so slightly glance to the table.

There’s a syringe of chems there, meant to send him to sleep after Dom Pedro has done his worst. Usually Dom Pedro takes the initiative to do that himself, because as he tells you, he likes being the only one who can send the Ghoul to sleep, the closest Dom Pedro will let him ever get to death. And then you’re stuck with dragging his comatose body back to the grave that awaits him.

Maybe you can just put a stop to the Ghoul’s philandering right now, and get yourself out of here before things get bad. Dom Pedro wouldn’t even notice– the Ghoul would seem as out of it as he was supposed to be at this time.

It’s only a second of you looking over there, but the Ghoul is quick– too quick, immediately understanding what you intend to do– and he somehow pushes his chair forward, at you, aiming his foot to kick at you with what limited motion he has in his restraints.

You get shoved back with a grunt, and you see him edge towards the knife on the table– but you knock him backwards with a shove, and the chair tips back, only stopping on it’s back legs due to the ropes extending from them, tethered to the back wall and through the gear and pulley systems that are ever present in this workshop.

The Ghoul’s kept his grip around your wrist, though, from where his hands are tied on the armchairs, and you fall back with him, balancing on your tippie toes and your hands on the top of the chair. Your hair brushes against his face as you lean forward, and you attempt to move away, but he won’t let go of you, instead sighing with gratification as he looks up at you from here.

“Huh. This is a compromising position, isn’t it?” The Ghoul licks his teeth as he keeps pulling you towards him, and you hear the wooden floor creak under you as the chair wavers in the air.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, c’mon, cut the bullshit.” He scoffs, still trying to get you to budge into helping him. “You really think Ol’ Dom Pedro won’t think you’re conspiring with me now, after it looks like you’ve taken a lover–”

There’s a sudden sound at the porch of the cabin. You and the Ghoul both turn to look out the window– and it’s definitely one very drunk Dom Pedro struggling to open the door.

You duck, out of fear that he’ll see you through the window, in the delicate moonlight, and the Ghoul tuts as your face comes near his jaw.

“What’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” He looks at your trembling face nonchalantly, as you try to make a decision. “Free me, and we’ll escape together. Use the drugs, and you’ll be stuck under Dom Pedro’s grubby fingers making exceedingly meagre wages.”

“How do I know you won’t just abandon me as soon as you want to kill a bounty?” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes.

“You don’t. But I always repay my debts.” He says, and you don’t really believe him at all, but the more time passes by, the more you know that he won’t even seem appropriately sedated for Dom Pedro’s wishes– so you wordlessly nod.

The Ghoul won’t let go of you, so you’re left careening to the side as his arms hold you to him. He’s keeping such a tight grip to ensure that you scrabble for the knife– and you do.

“No sneaky bullshit.” He spits out, and you, despite being of the Wasteland, had no mind to kill him. No, that would’ve certainly looked bad as well.

Dom Pedro’s favourite lap dog, dead? His bounty killer, who does it for the love of the game? His favourite ghoul to torture? The one who did something so bad it’s basically unspeakable, and Dom Pedro would be livid if he wasn’t ultimately the one to kill him in the end?

You could say goodbye to your head if you killed the Ghoul. You know your place– even if you get paid to administer drugs to him, you’re no better than a dealer, a sweet face providing a nice bedside manner.

You make quick work of the ropes restraining him, and the Ghoul stands up before ducking behind a table, putting his finger against his lips, shushing you.

You’re very careful now. Dom Pedro is coming down the hallway, and any second now, he’s going to check to see if you brought the Ghoul here.. Luckily, Dom Pedro’s so drunk, he’s taking his time, stumbling and groaning.

After mulling over it in your mind, you decide to take the full syringe on the table. Less evidence, and you figure maybe Dom Pedro will be so drunk he’ll forget you were supposed to be here anyways.

And after second-guessing it– you think fuck it, and take the entire briefcase of drugs with you.

The Ghoul whistles very slightly at the sight of that. “You’re committing.”

You resist the urge to ask him what other choice you have, since running out on Dom Pedro is a great way to have a bunch of bounty hunters after you– you’re relying on selling some drugs, and bribing the Ghoul with some so he’d have to continue protecting you after he inevitably says he’s completed his debt by helping you escape.

“Let’s go.” You mouth, and he nods.

He’s not one to care about personal space at all, though– and he lifts you up over the ledge of the other window, pushing up on your thighs, away from the hallway where Dom Pedro is finally coming in– and you feel your face turn hot at the close contact, halfway over the ledge into the outside, with his hands on your waist as he hoists you away.

You don’t even have time to think about it as you land lightly on the ground together, because he’s right behind you, hands still on your waist for a moment, and then he lets go, and together you move quickly.

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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kitchen-spoon · 9 hours

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God I need a Steddie gilmore girls au.

Steve as lorelai and Eddie as luke.

Its my first watch so i’m at the start of their on again off again. But even just a one shot of their first fight.

They have only been together a few months after being friends for years and having so much tension and love built up between them. Steve’s parents are renewing their vows they are on good terms because of Dustin or maybe Eleven? She would fit better but I know their relationship isn’t explored often (could do sibling steve got custody of) I’d love max but she is so not at all like rory.

Anyway. They go Eddie comes everything goes to shit. Tommy shows up because Steve’s father went to him. He wants Steve with someone ‘propper’. Both of them have been sort of awful to him. But Eddie loves Steve so he goes. Tommy realizes he cant get Steve from Eddie he gets drunk and sloppy with a last ditch effort.

Eddie’s had enough because Steve felt bad for Tommy because his father died and they had a bad relationship but he’s inherited the company. (Another reason why Steve’s father pushed Tommy). They drank and talked about old times. Nothing happens! It’s innocent! But Steve feels guilty and ignores Robin’s advice and doesn’t tell Eddie until that night.

Eddie leaves, Steve chases him but Eddie says he needs time. Steve feels like he is dying, he cant wait. He could fix it all if he could explain it! He was stupid so stupid he knows. But he pushes too hard and Eddie draws the line. He had said months back he was in. All in for all of it. He wanted to do this seriously. But it had become too much. Steve was too much and always would be.

They are both heartbroken. Steve is devastated, Robin worries and tries to help but Steve just forces himself to focus on the salon. Meanwhile Eddie is snapping at people at the garage he inherited from Wayne who had to retire because of his hip.

Steve cuts his father off in the process. So does eleven or dustin. Neither of them will speak to him but they are polite and kind to Steve’s mother. Eventually it breaks his father who goes to Eddie and admits he is wrong. He gives not so much a blessing but a admittance of defeat, knowing he truly cannot do anything about Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t even close and clean up properly. He just flicks the lights off and rushes over to Steve’s. Steve who was previously watching sad 80’s breakup movies in his old high school gym shorts and a swim team t shirt a few sizes too small is shocked to see him. But Eddie doesn’t wait and surges forward connecting their lips in a kiss Steve instantly melts into.

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strangersteddierthings · 10 months

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Untitled Song

An installment in the The Interview universe.

"This is a love song."

"What? No, it's not!" Steve argues, looking back down at the notebook.

"It reads like a love song. The little bit you just sang for me has love song vibes," Robin leans more of her weight onto Steve's back, where she's standing over his shoulder reading the lyrics.

He stares down at the page. "Yeah. Okay. I see it. But, like, I didn't mean it to be all love song vibey."

"I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute," Robin reads in a flat tone, unimpressed.

"Okay! Stop, I don't- I mean- ugh!" Steve slumps forward, resting his forehead on the page of lyrics. "Okay, fine, but like, in context I'm clearly talking about like, reliving my whole life. I would do it all again."

"Did you just say that this is clearly about your whole life because if so, I want to be on the same drugs as you," Robin pushes off of him to move around the table and plop into the chair across from him. She tries her best to level him with a stare, but he doesn't give her the satisfaction by refusing to lift his head. The downside of being soulmates, she decides. He knows what she's going to do and when and can, therefore, avoid it. "Look, I get that he was, like, your first love and high school sweetheart but he couldn't have been that good of a fuck. It was just inexperience that made-"

"Robin!" Steve shouts over her, looking at her now so she can see his scandalized expression. Ha! She takes it back. It's an upside to being soulmates because she knows exactly what to say to rial him up. "It's not about the sex! It's about all of it. Everything. I don't- what Eddie did was shitty and it fucking hurt, but that was ten years ago. This song is about everything."

She doesn't see it that way, but even with how well she's able to read him, Steve's mind has always had its own way of thinking she can't quite nail down. With a sigh, she says, "Alright. Benefit of doubt time. Explain the song to me."

"It's not just about Eddie. It's about my whole life. You know how my parents were, how high their expectations were and how I had to hide almost everything about me while I lived with them. That's the my life was a storm since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane bit. And if I hadn't dated Eddie, like, at all. Well, I was already on the track to being an asshole in elementary school. Can you imagine who I would have been in high school if I was still that kid?

"It's also, like, if Eddie and I had stayed together... If we hadn't- I hadn't broken up with him, would I have met Dustin? Or Lucas and Max? Will or Mike, Nancy, and Jonathan? It's like, the years directly after Hey Steve were absolute dogshit, yeah, but it brought me all the people I love now," Steve looks down to the page again, either avoiding her eye contact or finding it too much. She's not sure which one. "If Eddie and I had stayed together there was only option for my future. Once the car had been fully put in my name, I'd have told Eddie to pick a city and we'd have left, for Eddie to chase his dream while I chased him. I wouldn't have gone to Chicago with you, never had the money to purchase that first place to live with you. Maybe never have discovered I loved interior design and house renovation. So, I would do it all again. It brought me my family."

She understands, now, what the lyrics really mean to him. However, she's also the one person in the whole world close enough to Steve to actually see it. "I get what you are saying. But these lyrics do not tell that story. Knowing your reasoning behind it does make me see them that way. But no one who hears that is going to know your tragic backstory."

"So, should I re-write this?"

"Depends. What is your goal with this... statement. What is the best case scenario."

Steve blinks at her. "Oh. Uh, best case, huh? I guess... I want to talk to Eddie, again. We parted on real bad terms, and I think I want closure from that?"

She narrows her eyes at him, judging. "Are you angry, like, at all?" She is. She's still furious with Eddie. His fucking song had blown Steve's life up virtually overnight. But also, she had thought they were friends, too. She hadn't realized their friendship was conditional, with that condition being he and Steve having to be in a relationship.

And, yeah, logically she knows she was Steve's friend first and it would be easy to default to believing she'd be on Steve's side but she wasn't. Not at first.

When Steve had shown up at her house, having gone straight from Eddie's to hers after he told them they were over, she'd held him through the night as he cried. But in the morning, she'd told him she needed to check on Eddie. He was her best friend, too. But Wayne told her he was gone, left last night to Chicago. Wayne had offered her a ride there with him, after he got Eddie's van running again and went to take it to him.

She said she'd think about it. Tried to reach out over all the socials, but Eddie didn't even check them, and then Hey Steve came out and there wasn't any room left in her to care about Eddie and his emotional state.

Not anymore. Not when he'd left her, too. Not when, even after Robin had made her own way to fame, he declined to meet with her. She'd tried to reach out but who was she, a new comer to the music scene and barely known, to Eddie Fucking Munson, lead guitarist to Corroded Coffin?

"I mean, sure, but like... it's been ten years. I don't- I have better things to think about than how mad I was... am? at Eddie. We were friends, first, y'know. And it's complicated. You know this," Steve says.

"Yeah, yeah," Robin waves off his words, "you're whole Eddie was a part of my life for longer than he's been gone from it thing. I'm not sure that the fifteen years of your childhood should be counted the same as this decade of adulthood."

"I get that you don't want to forgive him, and that's fine. But, forgiveness or not, I want closure."

"Okay. Keep the song as is."

"Really?"

"Yes," Robin says, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across her face. If Steve records and shares what sounds like a love song, there's almost a 100% chance that Gareth will reach out again. She knows they're expecting to see an angry and hurt Steve, but instead they'll get this? Robin's not above playing unfair. She hopes this breaks Eddie, consumes him with a guilt as deep as the original hurt felt. "I think we should let everyone think it's your sad, pathetic, pining for a decades-old-love song. It'll definitely get Gareth reaching out to me and my team again."

"Gareth's reached out?"

"It's his job. He's Corroded Coffin's PR Manager now, apparently. When Lauri told me Gareth had reached out, I asked to be included in the call. Anyway, not the point. The point is, if you want to talk to Eddie, this love song is the trick."

"It's not a love song!"

"Whatever you say, Dingus. Sing it again so I can imagine the music to go with it."

#the interview #platonic stobin #my fic #just a little scene about why robin let steve record a love song in her studio #she wanted to hurt eddie as much as he hurt her and steve #does she feel guilty about it? eventually #anyway #enjoy this little snippet that didnt end up in the original fic

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spoopy-fish-writes · 2 years

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I got a mad and blunt with my little sister for only talking to me whenever she wants me to do something for her and now she's crying and I don't know what to do

#im aware that im the one thats mostly at fault for this but its just been getting in my nerves and someone was bound to tell her eventually #if not me then it was going to be my younger brother who would have been a lot harsher about it #but i still feel bad because shes a kid and i know its not her fault that shes used to always getting her way without repercussions #but idk its just #i hate having to be the bigger person every time when she does need to eventually be told that shes not always going to be able to get #away with treating people like her personal transportation #but im just pushing her away because of it because i keep assuming that she only wants to talk to me becasue she wants soemthing #and i dotn know what to do #i know i bitch about my family a lot and shes no exception but shes still just a kid and i dont want her to think i hate her #i dont want her to go through that like me and my older siblings did but i dont know how yo fix it #my younger brother isnt any help because he hates our guts and he hates my little sister even more but i want to fix it #i want to fix it but i dont know how #i dont even know if its possible at this point #and i know its late to feel this guilty about it but i cant help it #i get so mad at the fact that my parents alienated me from my siblings while i was growing up and i feel like im just doing the same thing #to her now and as much as I want to teach her how to treat people well i dont want to push her away at the same #she doesnt deserve it #im going to try to fix this but i dont know if it'll work #i want to be close with her but ive never had the chance in the 10 years that shes been alive becayse of my parents #i take care of her but its not the same #i just want #i just want to have my siblings again. i dont want them to hate me or each other #and maybe its stupid that im crying over this but i just want it back #i miss my family #i miss before this all went to shit #i miss how we could be around each othwr and have fun even if we werent close #i miss it #spoopy fish rambles #tw vent

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inkskinned · 8 months

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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

#warm up #writeblr #this one has bothered me for a bit #any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime #hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying #as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing #like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts #why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge #''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it #ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace #if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!!#men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible #ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing #the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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staryuee · 15 days

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HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

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sudenlyanime · 6 months

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Taigen’s love confession NEEDS to come before he finds out Mizu is a woman.

Listen. I have given this a lot of thought and the more I think about it, the more I’m sure. When looking at Mizu and Mikio’s marriage, we can see how Mikio was in to the idea of a strong woman only so far as he was still stronger than her. This is clear when Mikio insists that he wants to “see all of [mizu]” and insists that they spar; Mikio doesn’t unsheath his blade even though Mizu tell him not to hold back. He assumes he is stronger than her and when this is proven false, like the beta bitch he is, he bails.

But with Taigen it’s different. Mizu and Taigen’s relationship has been a power struggle from the start. Taigen wasn’t introduced to Mizu as a woman or a wife. Taigen has always seen Mizu as a swordsman first. And when the hostility between the two starts to cool, it is because of their mutual admiration of the other’s skill. Mizu’s strength and boldness are what win Taigen over in the first place.

We also see a very important juxtapose between when Mizu pins Mikio to the ground and when she pins Taigen to the ground. In the first instance, Mikio pushes Mizu off him and calls her a monster. He feels put off and emasculated by being overpowered. In the Mizu/Taigen scene, however, once Mizu has Taigen pinned, he stares, awestruck, into Mizu’s eyes and gets a raging hard on. Instead of feeling emasculated, Taigen get so aroused that he has a full blown bi awakening.

So we know that Taigen is different to Mikio in that he is attracted to Mizu BECAUSE she can kick his ass, not in spite of it. But Mizu has been burned before. Badly. So if Taigen were to confess his feelings and tell Mizu that her strength is what he adores most about her, she’d be like, “right, sure, heard that one before.” And that’s why Taigen needs to confess his feelings BEFORE he finds out what’s in Mizu’s pants.

In my daydreaming about a Migen love confession, I find myself reminded of this quote. How Mikio was like the exotic bird collector. He only liked the idea of Mizu knowing her way around a sword so long as at the end of the day, he can still put her back into the caged-in roll of the house wife.

Taigen is also guilty of this with Akemi. I sure there is still no small amount of attraction and love between them, but I think Taigen pursues Akemi mostly out of the personal fable he has written about himself; the poor fisherman’s son who raises himself up to be the star of his Dojo and then marries a princess. He might not have wanted to cage Akemi as much as other men would have, but he still sees her as the exotic bird. The prize. And thats why I can’t ship them.

But with Mizu it’s different. Taigen even admits that Mizu is a better fighter than him. He KNOWS he could never cage her and by the end on the first season he strops trying, opting to stand beside her instead of against her (“it’s your fight, so it’s mine” 😭) So when he does confess his feelings, he has to do is as one man to another and make it clear to Mizu that her strength is what he loves most and that he would never want her to be anything less then the superior swordsman she is.

Only then will Mizu have a chance of believing that Taigen wants to be with her, not to subdue her into a wifely role, but to stand beside her in all her greatness. If Taigen’s confession were to come after he finds out she’s a woman, Mizu might just think, “oh, NOW you want to be with me, cause you think just because I’m a woman I’ll eventually submit to you.” Mizu needs to know she is loved AS SHE IS.

Also, I just think it would be HILLARIOUS if Taigen confesses, and Mizu is like, “ well then….. I guess I should let you know…” and then Taigen spends the rest of the episode with his mind fucking BLOWN and complaining that he has spent the last several months coming to terms with the fact that he is attracted to another man only to find out the man he is attracted to is a woman! He goes through a whole bi awakening for nothing!

#blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x taigen #taigen #mizu/taigen #blueeyesamurai #mizugen #blue eye samurai spoilers #tv: blue eye samurai #akemi

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lightwise · 3 months

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Omega is not okay

I know we've all been over the moon about Crosshair and Hunter's dynamic in The Return, but I want to draw some attention to Omega in this episode, and something that I think Joel Aron is trying to draw attention to with his lighting choices.

Omega is not okay.

Joel has made pointed out many times that he loves doing reveal lighting (think the overhead light in Crosshair's cell or on the freighter at the end of A Different Approach giving him a halo, or how Hunter stops short of the overhead light on the Marauder before stepping out to greet Omega). And throughout this whole episode, the light is breaking over Crosshair and bathing him in warmth more and more. He is slowly returning the light and coming home to his family.

Omega, however, in nearly every single scene in this episode, is in shadow.

Yes, her hairstyle is contributing to the fall of light on her face, and yes, she has her hat on while they're on Barton IV. But this is showing that her psychological state since they escaped Tantiss is uneasy, at best, and very conflicted and darkened, at worst. Even when she wakes up in the comfort and safety of the Marauder, she is shrouded in shadow. And even in scenes where the light wraps around and highlights Crosshair's face, Omega's is kept harshly defined, and she is often looking away from the "camera".

Even when we see her somewhat happier at points in this episode, usually due to watching her brothers reconnect, her face is not as well lit as theirs.

Omega kept her positivity and optimism at the forefront while she and Crosshair were in prison, and throughout most of their escape. It's what we most associate with her--being a ray of sunshine and encouragement for those around her. Now, however, she has the opportunity to relax a bit, for the adults to be handling certain things, and the trauma and perspective shift that she has just gone through is coming to the forefront.

Her survivors guilt, her shock at not being the only female clone, her confusion and questions over who she is and why she is so important, the cruelty she's seen Hemlock be capable of, and her continued empathy for anyone who is suffering is all swirling around in her in ways that she doesn't know what to do with yet. Yes, she has seen much suffering in the galaxy already in her short life, and has always been adamant about her need to help others. But ultimately it had never impacted her like this. Until now.

Crosshair has been broken and remade by his experiences. Omega is being broken and remade by hers as well. And I'm not sure the boys fully realize just how much yet.

Omega refuses to be left behind. She feels responsible for the fact that the rest of the clones are still on Tantiss. She feels guilty that she could have a chance at a life still and they don't. She feels an all-encompassing need to help them if she can, even though she is still young and vulnerable. This is ultimately going to conflict with Hunter's desires to keep her safe and hidden. Echo has already chosen the fight. Wrecker is willing to go wherever he's needed. Crosshair has been through too much to not be willing to fight back however necessary.

Hunter is going to eventually realize that while Omega is still a child, and does need to be protected, at the same time, her own sense of responsibility is going to eventually supersede his desires.

Echo and Crosshair especially will be able to understand some of what she is feeling and hopefully help guide her through it. Hopefully, Omega will be able to reconcile who she is, what she is capable of, and what is outside of her ability to fix, sooner rather than later. But it's safe to say she will never be the same after this. At least she has a little bit of reprieve before facing whatever is next.

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #omega #omega bad batch #tbb omega #the return #tbb season 3 #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #some light edits #somelightedits #somelightramblings #some light ramblings

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deadbolted · 2 months

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━━ 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑.

౨ৎ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): abby anderson x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: NSFW (mdni 18+), cursing, heavy petting, fingering, & cheating (don’t do it!)

౨ৎ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it can’t be that wrong if it feels that right, right?

౨ৎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 421

౨ৎ masterlist / navigation

abby knew this was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to stop it.

owen was waiting for her back at her place, he’d probably made plans to have dinner and a movie — and here she was, eyes rolled back, moaning your name.

“does he touch you like this?” you ask, snapping her out of her pleasureful haze. she shakes her head, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence.

waiting for her response, you slow your fingers, “answer me.”

“no! never.”

satisfied with her answer, your fingers begin to pump in and out of her again, her pussy clenching around your fingers.

“oh fuck”

you reach down and begin to rub tight circles on her clit, causing her muscular thighs to tense up. you stare down at her, eager to watch her cum for you. you loved this view of her, so submissive and desperate for release. her abs glistened with a thin layer of sweat, and her mouth hung open in pleasure.

“does he fuck you like i do?” you question, already knowing the answer.

in the 2 years that you had been friends in the WLF base, abby had complained about her boyfriend’s inability to satisfy her dozens of times. that inability eventually led her here, to your bed, to your pleasure.

“no! s’only you. make me feel so good”

abby knew she should feel guilty, and after she came down from her high she did. but in this moment, while you fucked her on your fingers and groped her breasts like owen never did, that nagging shame seemed to disappear.

“fuck you’re squeezin’ my fingers so tight. y’wanna cum?” you ask, working your thumb on her clit.

“please, wanna cum for you!” she sobs, thighs shaking in anticipation of her orgasm. just as you’re about to give her permission, her phone rings from it’s spot on your bedside table.

you freeze, only momentarily before continuing to work your fingers in and out of her leaking hole. the sound of her phone startles her, and the fact that you don’t stop startles her even more.

“it’s him. shit…hold on a second” she requests, reaching for her phone.

when she notices you haven’t stopped your relentless pace, she furrows her brows. “baby, please.” she reaches for your hand to remove it, but you slap her hand away. you have no intention of stopping until she’s squirting on your fingers.

instead, you decide to mess with her, and that stupid boyfriend of hers.

“answer it.”

౨ৎ 𝐚/𝐧: been thinkin this one up for weeks. idk how i feel about it tho!

#abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #joel miller smut #ellie williams smut #tlou smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #tlou hbo #abby anderson tlou2 #abby smut #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson #smut

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moonstruckme · 3 months

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Your work has been a great source of joy and relief to me (at last after a day of shitty circumstance i get to thrive in my free time with your witing) and i just want to thank you for that...💗💗💗

But i do also wanna request a jealous reader to james or remus, I'm genuinely curious as to how they'll handle that and what will they do to satiate reader

Thank you, sweetheart! Love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James looks especially sightly today, his brown skin gleaming in the sun and hair stuck slick to his forehead. He’s shirtless, which is always a treat, muscled abdomen sometimes distorted beneath the pool water and sometimes slipping above, inadvertently teasing, and his shoulders look especially strapping with Lily’s pale thighs seated atop them.

You really like Lily. You’re quite disappointed in yourself, actually, for the hot flash of malice that goes through you when she burrows her manicured fingers in your boyfriend’s hair, laughing about losing her balance. James moves his grip from her knees up to her thighs, promising he’s got her. Something foul and warmish curdles in your gut.

On the other side of the pool, Sirius and Remus advance like a totem pole with two wildly different faces, one menacing and the other reluctant. They’d asked if you wanted to play chicken, but getting pushed and shoved by Sirius isn’t your idea of a good time. You figured you’d be more content here, sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet kicking idly in the cool water, but now you can see how it does sort of look like a couples activity, Sirius atop Remus’ shoulders and Lily on James’. It’s no secret that James had pined after Lily for years. It was back in their school days, before you met him, but it’s been brought up a few times in a teasing way that’s made it clear to you that everyone knew how he felt about her. You wonder if Lily ever thinks about it. If she’s assured, consciously or not, that she could have him back at any time of her choosing. It’s not something you love to dwell upon.

The pairs are fairly evenly matched. Sirius fights dirty, splashing water up at Lily and trying to unhook one of her knees from around James’ shoulder, but Remus can’t be bothered to participate and looks like he’d be just as happy to be pushed over and call it done. Lily, meanwhile, isn’t as creative a fighter and is only shoving at Sirius’ shoulders, but James provides a strong base. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of her legs, calling up encouragements and occasionally freeing a hand to pinch upwards at Sirius’ side. Sirius shrieks and swears at this, claiming that it’s against the rules. Eventually, Remus gets tired of supporting his boyfriend’s weight and feigns a fall back into the water. Sirius squawks as he goes down, and Lily and James cheer and high-five before he helps her dismount with far more grace.

You clap and smile like a good girlfriend. James beams as he swims over to you. Sometimes looking at James’ smile at full capacity is a bit like looking at the sun, and you feel like you need some special glasses to gaze directly at it. This is one of those times.

He takes your calf in his big hand and leans his cool cheek on your warm knee and makes you feel like the most special girl in the world, and you can’t stop thinking that Lily probably knows this exact feeling.

You make extra sure to be nice to Lily on your way out later that evening, guilty and vexed with yourself for the way you’ve been thinking about her, and James waves a friendly goodbye to the group as you both step outside.

Instantly, his arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. James was prepared for the nighttime chill, pulling a sweatshirt out of his bag as soon as the sun set, whereas you’re in a tank top and shorts that have grown damp from your swimsuit. You lean into him gratefully.

“Did you have a good time today?” he asks.

“Mhm.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head a bit, looking down at your face. “You seemed a bit off.”

You shrug. You should’ve expected James would notice. “I guess I just wished I’d participated more.”

He makes a contemplative humming sound. “You don’t mean that you think people didn’t want you to participate, right? They love you, angel, you know that.”

“No, I…” You want to say I know, but you’re worried you’ll sound conceited. You never usually second-guess yourself like this around James. You sort of hate it. “I just didn’t realize that if I said no to playing chicken, Lily was going to be your partner instead.”

He’s quiet for a second. Something in your gut twists uneasily.

“I thought you liked Lily.”

“I do.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

You answer without thinking, because whatever you might be feeling right now, you are not a jealous person. You won’t be that kind of girlfriend. The breeze picks up, and goosebumps prickle down your arms, making you shiver.

“Are you cold?” James asks.

You know he’s going to want to give you his sweatshirt, and you really can’t be taking things from him right now. “I’m alright.”

“You know you’ve got nothing to worry about with Lily,” he tells you, thumb brushing softly over the skin of your bare shoulder. It should be reassuring, but suddenly you’re thinking about how this same hand looked so comfortable wrapped around Lily’s thigh. You step out from under his arm, crossing your arms as casually as you can against the chill.

“I’m not worried,” you reply.

James looks perplexed, and also a little dubious. The thought of him not believing you, even if you are lying, fills you with a burning indignation.

“I just don’t see why you had to be touching her so much,” you say. “You could’ve looked a bit less eager.”

He actually laughs at that, but the look on your face stops him quickly. “Sorry, but did you really think I looked eager?” he asks, a little smile still teasing the corners of his lips like you’re a child he has to talk down from a fit. “That’s just part of the game, sweetheart.”

The way he says it, sweetheart, suddenly feels less affectionate and more like a placation. Condescending. Heat builds behind your eyes, and you realize with horror that you feel like you might actually cry. You’ve never felt so distant from James. Not even when you’d first started dating.

You pick up your pace, staying ahead to keep him from seeing your face. “You didn’t have to touch her legs so much,” you huff.

“That’s just how it works!” he laughs, incredulous.

You roll your eyes, and James lengthens his stride to catch up to you.

“So let me get this straight,” he says. He sounds more serious than before, which you thought you’d wanted but now you’re not so sure. Your heart trembles. “You wanted me to throw the whole game to just avoid touching my friend’s legs?”

“She wasn’t always your friend,” you remind him.

“Yes, she was.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. From a factual standpoint, he’s not wrong, but you know that Lily was more than that in James’ head for quite some time. He can’t boil it down to something so simple.

The silence stretches out between you, ice-thin and just as cold. Then you shudder again, and James sets a hand on your shoulder. It’s only there for a second before he retracts it, as if unsure what he’s allowed. Your heart throbs.

“You are cold,” he says, and his tone is doting teetering on the brink of accusatory. He grabs the hem of his sweatshirt. “Here, have—”

“I don’t want your sweatshirt,” you say sharply.

James pauses. “Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“Sweetheart, you’re cold.”

“So what?” You cross your arms harder, trying to hide your trembling under the guise of general agitation. “That’s not what we’re talking about.”

“What are we talking about?” he asks you. “How I let Lily sit on my shoulders as part of a game and now I’ll surely leave you for her?”

Even as a joke, it stings. “Would you?”

“Of course not!” His hands spread out in front of him, helpless. “What do you want me to do? Should I just never be friends with another girl again?”

“No, it’s not—it’s not that.” Your eyes burn. You’re frustrated with him for intentionally missing the point, and frustrated with yourself for needing his reassurance in the first place. “I just want to know that you’d pick her over me.”

“I have!”

“You didn’t pick, James.” Your breathing is starting to sound ragged. The words taste acidic in your mouth. “She picked for you.”

“Angel, that was ages ago.” James softens his voice, likely hearing the tears in yours. “I don’t see her that way anymore. She was right, we wouldn’t have worked together.”

“But how can you know that?” Your voice breaks just as a harsh shiver goes through you, and you wrap your arms more tightly around yourself.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You don’t have to turn around to hear that James has stopped walking behind you, his footsteps halting. Reluctantly, you slow in response but don’t turn around, waiting to see what he’s doing. “Come here.” When you don’t move, his voice hardens into a tone you don’t hear often. “Come here.”

You turn around, more curious than anything, and James has taken his sweatshirt off. He tugs it over your head before you can say anything.

“James!” you protest, squirming, but his hold is strong. He manages to wrestle your torso in and get one of your arms into a sleeve before he seems to decide that’s good enough and leaves you be.

“Quit being so stubborn,” he says, still in that same tone. You stop trying to get the sweatshirt off immediately, hands dropping to your sides. James has never been so stern with you before. You don’t quite know how to react. “You’re freezing, and your hair’s still wet. There’s no sense in suffering through it just because you want to have a row.”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him, but your words sound petulant even to your own ears.

“Then listen.” He takes your jaw in hand, setting his eyes on yours. “I do not want to be in a relationship with Lily. I thought I did once, but I don’t anymore.” He waits a second, making sure this sinks in, before his voice softens. “I’m going to be friends with girls. That’s just…that’s the way I’ve always been. But I’m with you because I’m happiest with you, and this isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.”

You nod, suddenly flooded with self loathing. A tear skids down your face when you blink. “I’m sorry. It’s not about…I do trust you, I promise. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“Honey,” James murmurs. The tear lands on his index finger, and his face pinches like it stings. “Listen, if I saw some guy with his hands all over you, I’d—”

“In a bathing suit,” you add tearfully.

“With his hands all over you in a bathing suit,” he amends, “I’d probably be upset too. But you’ve got to tell me these things, you know? If you’d brought it up at the time, I could’ve told you I don’t feel that way about Lily and maybe you would’ve had a better afternoon.”

“I didn’t want to be the jealous girlfriend,” you admit. “I really do like Lily, I didn’t mean to accuse either of you of anything.”

“I think…I think some amount of jealousy has to be normal,” James says, brows bunched pensively even as his finger strokes at your cheek. “We’re each other’s, you know? It’s just letting it get in your head that’s the problem. If you’re thinking I’d pursue someone else while I’m with you, that doesn’t reflect very well on me.”

You shake your head, leaning away from James’ hand to wipe your nose. “I don’t really. I know you’d be—you’d at least be nice about it. You’d tell me.”

Pain etches itself into the indent between your boyfriend’s brows. He takes your face between both hands now, looking into your eyes determinedly. “I love you,” he says, bending to press a firm kiss between your brows. “Understand?”

You wrap your arms around his middle, pushing past his face to tuck your head under his chin. “I love you too.” Your voice is ardent if a bit wobbly, tears that feel more like a reaction to a past fright than anything else still moving sluggishly down your face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s forgiven, sweetheart.” James’ big palm comes to rest between your shaking shoulder blades, scrubbing up and down firmly. “Let’s get home, yeah?”

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liketolovexx · 1 month

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heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry

Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much

Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!

(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)

“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B

{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}

“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.

Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.

~~~

Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.

“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.

With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”

Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.

~~~

You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.

It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.

That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.

“Siri?”

A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.

“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”

“…yeah.”

“Oh.”

Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.

“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”

Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Regulus.”

“…”

Regulus walked to his room.

~~~

Sixth year.

Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.

When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.

From then on, everything changed.

~~~

Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.

You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“

“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”

“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”

“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”

Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.

Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.

~~~

At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.

You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.

It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.

You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.

“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”

“I did go crazy in that house.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.

~~~

knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.

Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.

“Come in.” You mumbled.

As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.

He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.

“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”

He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”

“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”

“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.

“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.

“I’m fine.” He protested.

You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.

~~~

You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.

Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.

You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.

“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.

~~~

(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)

#marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders #sirius black #marauders era #sirius black scenario #Sirius black💌*~#sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black one shot #sirius black x you #sirius black prompt #sirius black imagine #sirius black oneshot #sirius black angst #regulus black x reader prompt #regulus black x reader

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princessbrunette · 1 month

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babydaddy!jj would be so soft l!! I think even if you guys weren’t officially together, he’d insist on you too living together. yanno… to save money and support each other and totally not so he can you underneath him anytime you need to unwind

݁٬ ࣪ ، ◟🧁 ✧

oooofff jj eventually moving you in together, ‘for the babies sake’. but its because he’s obviously head over heels for you still (as are you, but you’re still being stubborn) and he just wants to prove himself. he can’t believe he got you to agree to it, but when you do — he does everything he can to make your life easier.

thinking specifically about him picking up double shifts at his linecook job to make you a little extra money, coming home at night when the babies in bed asleep and you’re in the kitchen cleaning up in your little night gown :( he’s all greasy in that white tshirt and backwards cap, looking too good for your liking as he leans against the kitchen island making conversation with you.

“she been alright with the whole teething thing?” he watches you as you continue to wipe down the surfaces, doing everything in your power to not look at him.

“mhm. a little bit of fussing today but i think it’s settling down.” you answer and he nods, fixing his hat as he rounds the counter slowly.

“and uh, what about you? you all good? any stress you wanna tell me about?” he looms over you and you freeze up a little for a second before continuing to wipe the same spot over and over.

“uh… i’m good.” it comes out in a whisper and he smirks.

“thats bull.” he nearly laughs and you turn to look up at him, all guilty and doe eyed. “look, this is why i moved in with you, right? i’mma take all that stress away, mama. just let me.” his eyes dart between yours and you stare unsurely.

“…really?”

“mmmhm.” he hums, low in his throat. “you forget that i know you. inside out. you tellin’ me you’d say no to some head right now? ‘cus… i’on know ‘bout you but i missed having my head b’tween this pretty mamas thighs.”

you let out a shaky breath, one you didn’t know you was holding.

“jay.” you warn in a whine and he places his hands on your hips, massaging the skin you didn’t even know felt sore and tired until he did.

“c’mon. how ‘bout i get you creamin’ on these fingers, i make you a little snack, and then you get some good sleep. m’not workin’ tomorrow so… i got the mornin’ shift at home. you can sleep in.” his eyes dart between yours and you feel your knees nearly buckle if it wasn’t for him holding you. your eyes fill with tears and you nod, unable to even speak at the sheer amount of relief you felt.

“yeah? aw don’t cry. told you m’here to help you. not a liar, not last time i checked anyway.” he chuckles, leading you to the bedroom.

݁٬ ࣪ ، ◟🧁 ✧

#anon #jj maybank prompt #babydaddy!jj

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ynscrazylife · 3 months

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tf141 finds a fallen goddess (tf141 x goddess!reader hcs, can be read as romantic or platonic)

Task Force 141 first finds you lying in the grass, the dirt, the mud in a small clearing while they were scouring the area on a mission. It’s safe to say that all four of them are perplexed to find a civilian here, and even more confused as they take in your fancy jewelry and lavish dress.

As soon as they see you, they all feel a shift in the air, like some aura . . . But they don’t know what it is.

Price is the one who makes the first move, though Gaz, Ghost, and Soap keep their weapons trained on you. He wakes you up, demands to know who you are and why you’re here.

You huff and tell him you fell. He asks from where, a goddamn tree? You point up to the sky.

They’re speechless and unconvinced, and you’re forced to explain that you are a goddess. You even demonstrate your abilities and, upon seeing that and feeling the aura . . . It’s impossible to deny. Many people believe in Gods, TF141 is somewhat knowledgeable about mythology, but it’s still a shock.

It takes a good few minutes of seeing your abilities and hearing your story for Gaz, Ghost, and Soap to stand down. Once they get over being stunned, they’re taken by your beauty and your kindness, and ask how you ended up crashed onto the ground.

“I fell,” you say and try to sit up. To your shock, you are met with something that you‘ve never faced before: pain. Weakness. Gaz moves to help and you allow him to sit you up and support you.

“Ye got anywhere to go?” Ghost asks, thinking that you’ll travel back to the sky or wherever you came from.

But you shake your head. Soap and Ghost look to their Captain and he makes the decision, offering you to come with them. For now.

It’s not much of a choice, so you accept and, held up by Gaz and Soap, go back to their base.

As much as they’re captivated by you, you’re also captivated by them. Ghost has you quite curious with how he wears a mask and none of the others do. You open up about being a Goddess and your culture, your life. They try not to be fascinated, but they are, and endless questions follow. You answer as many as you can, honest but careful.

They tell you more about themselves, too, explaining their duty in the military. They tell you what’s not classified. You haven’t talked to any mortals as much as this and you find yourself asking them questions as well.

There’s not much for you to do except to rest, but the team keeps you company. You even manage to crack Ghost’s tough exterior — eventually.

Price definitely does some research on you, what you have power over, your mythology. He likes you — it’s hard not to — but you’re still a stranger. A divine stranger.

Soap loves to talk. And flirt. He has fun, flirting with a Goddess. It’s definitely an ego boost for him.

Your sweet talking almost has Ghost taking his mask off, until he resists at the last second. “Sneaky lass,” he’ll say.

Gaz is definitely the friendliest. He’s the first of the group to fully put his trust in you.

Price feels guilty keeping a secret from Laswell, but he knows he mustn’t reveal your identity. He doubts she would believe him, anyway.

When the team sees you use your powers for the first time, any doubt they had about you went away. You were breathtaking. Watching you work so effortlessly was a beautiful sight.

After a few days, you feel secure enough to tell them what happened. You explain that you didn’t fall, you were pushed. By another God.

Even though they know how powerful you are, they’re still enraged.

“Pushed from that height???”

They’re protective over you. They treat you deserve to be treated by a Princess. Seeing that the Gods up there have failed to do that, they take it upon themselves.

You decide to stay with them for the time being. There’s not much you can do to help them out, but you try. They teach you about the mortal world and show you care and tenderness that you could hardly believe from four military men.

And, eventually, you do get Ghost to take his mask off.

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tojivu · 4 months

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bite me ❤︎ ! ⋆ jjk men

an. my first multichar work !

cw. hickeys/lovebites with gojo, geto, toji, nanami + the terrible aftermath. suggestive, otherwise quite sfw. f!reader. suguru isn't a curse user.

playing. bite me by enhypen.

GOJO SATORU is a cocky fucking bastard. just 12 hours ago, he had you wrapped around his finger — quite literally, as well — and his lips were practically superglued to the delicate skin of your neck and collarbones. it didn't occur to you, though, that your boyfriend didn't have the weekend off; after all, he did tell you he was going to be home the entirety of it.

well, you should've known that satoru would do anything to have his way with you — a little white lie, that's what he tells himself — but he had to admit that he couldn't think very straight, otherwise, he wouldn't have let you leave so many.

it's 11 in the morning when you receive a text from shoko. you can hear the disgusted yet unsurprised tone through the pixels, asking you why your boyfriend was sporting roughly 4 — yes, they were so obvious that she could count — patches of purple on his neck and jawline.

shoko: satoru looks like he got in a fight with a leech lol

when satoru comes home, the mortified feeling intensifies by tenfold — they're much more obvious in real life. the colour has faded a little, but hickeys are still hickeys, and your boyfriend is still an imbecile.

"what?"

"you have no shame," you turn your head away from the man standing at the entryway of your shared home, and back to the television. "you said you were gonna be home. you left before i woke up—"

"important jujutsu stuff," satoru interrupts. he takes his blindfold off, quick footsteps as he makes his way to the couch. your arms are folded together, an attempt to show satoru that you were upset. "couldn't be helped, baby. 'm sorry."

you turn your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed when you realise your boyfriend doesn't care one bit — he thinks there's nothing wrong with people knowing he's unavailable, and even more so when you're the reason.

"can you at least use some of my foundation?"

────────────────────────

GETO SUGURU has a little bit of dignity, but the collar of his shirt is a little too low to be coincidental. he secretly loves it whenever his friends ask about it, tease him about finally having a girl when he's been alone for so long.

it's a friday afternoon when he's at the gym getting his daily workouts in, and his cheeks flush when satoru nudges his bicep and lets a hearty laugh out; "aw, suguru's gotten busy, huh? this why you didn't turn up yesterday?"

suguru groans and tells satoru to shut the fuck up, but there's no denying that he was in fact busy. nevertheless, of course suguru had decorum; he covered himself up in front of the public and his family, but he really couldn't care less if his closest friends knew about what he was up to.

besides, his neck wasn't as bad as yours — he could only feel guilty as he watched you paint colour corrector and various shades of concealer on your neck, even doing the chilled spoon method; eventually giving up and settling for a scarf when they don't do the trick.

"i didn't know you were going out today," he says from the bed as you sit across the room at your mirror. "i fucked up."

"'s okay, sugu!" you smile reassuringly, contrasting the worried look on your face that spells it out for him — the sweet tone of your voice only makes suguru feel worse. "the scarf will work fine."

"i'm still sorry, baby. really."

he really isn't. but the guilt makes up for it, he thinks; he only hopes your mother doesn't catch a peek of the purple hiding beneath the fabric.

────────────────────────

TOJI FUSHIGURO also does not give two fucks. this man could leave the house absolutely littered in bite marks from your pearly whites — he loves looking at himself in the mirror in the morning, when you're still fast asleep, just admiring the artwork that is his body and the proof of the love you have for him on it.

this wasn't the case with the girls he used to mess around with, though. he absolutely loathed having any evidence of a woman on him, whether that be the scent of her perfume lingering on his clothes or in his apartment — or her messages appearing on his lock screen and his friends asking about it.

yet, it's different with you; but he supposes everything has been different with you. he thinks he's serious this time, about the relationship you two have — and he wants everyone to know that too, though he'll never say that out loud.

"tojiii?" you whine, arms stretching out as your eyes adjust to the sunlight that pours into the bedroom. you turn to his side of the bed, and you're not surprised when he isn't there — it's ironic. the first time you woke up in bed alone after a night with toji, you panicked and thought that he disappeared.

it's just then that your lover opens the door, duffle bag slung around his shoulder diagonally; his right shoulder hits the doorframe, almost fitting the entire width, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks when you see the hickeys on his neck.

you use your arms to push yourself up, sitting cross-legged on the sheets. "did you go out like that?"

"like what, princess?"

you smile at the name, but your lips don't part to answer — toji knows you know, but it's annoying how he acts so natural about it. he sets his bag down and his strong arms wrap around you, picking you up as if you're light as paper.

"show off," you mutter against the crook of his neck. "you need to start wearing hoodies to the gym."

toji catches a whiff of your scent and thinks you're dense for saying such a thing — he is finally proud to have someone by his side, so he might as well let everyone else know. he has to.

"not happening."

────────────────────────

NANAMI KENTO does cover up, but he wouldn't mind if someone saw them. he's very mature about it, really — not embarrassed in the slightest. after all, you were his wife and he was your husband. things are bound to happen between you two behind closed doors.

that doesn't mean he wouldn't try to conceal them, though. he asks to use your makeup to hide them — only to be fucked over when your shades don't match all too well. it's only then that he lets an exasperated sigh leave his lips, and you feel a hundred times guiltier.

"i'm sorry, kento," you bite down on your bottom lip out of worry. "maybe we can use the spoon?"

he shakes his head. nanami was running late, and he had to leave immediately.

"it's okay, darling," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "yaga won't be upset."

you knew gojo would tease him endlessly, and you also knew that nanami couldn't stand him. you almost tell him to stay home for a little longer so you can figure out a way to fix this.

"it's nothing to be ashamed of. we're adults," he reminds you, as if the events of last night and the evidence of said events do not. "i'll see you when i'm home?"

you sigh, middle and thumb fingers rubbing your temples. if only you were thinking straight — but you knew that was almost always impossible with kento. "okay. have a good day at work, ken."

kento plants one more kiss on your lips, and he has to pull himself away before another second passes; he always had trouble stopping himself with you.

he supposes that habit has come to bite him in the ass, now.

"thank you, sweetheart. i will."

yeah, gojo will never let him live this down.

280124 — is this ooc.

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagines #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto imagines #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami imagines #toji x reader #toji fluff #toji imagines

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rougepancake · 10 months

Text

Just My Type

FT. Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, & Giorno Giovanna

WARNINGS: Sexually explicit content under cut. Minors and ageless blogs dni. Fem!Reader. Stalking, panty stealing, inappropriate use of stands, pervy jojos, masturbation, accurate to their individual timelines. Don Giorno and Cop Josuke. NOT PROOFREAD!!

SUMMARY: Perv headcanons for the JoJo’s up through part five. Might make one for the JoBros-

JONATHAN JOESTAR

Out of all of them, he feels the most guilt

He’s a gentleman, after all

First it starts out with him eyeing your body, taking subtle peeks throughout the day

It then escalates to him brushing against you gently, and it kills him

There’s not much he can do outside of watching you and getting off to you before bed

SPEAKING OF THAT-

He humps his pillow

God he’s so desperate and needy too

Especially when you have no idea. For whatever reason, it makes his heart swell

But he feels so bad about it. What if you ever found out? What would you do? Do you feel the same way about him??

Once saw you riding your horse and was genuinely never the same after that

There was something about how determined you looked, with that wistful look in your eyes that just turned him on

He’s so down bad that he asked Dio for advice

“Get her drunk and convince her to stay. She’s stupid enough anyways.” “Grope her… duh…”

Dio does NOT give two shits about wether not his advice is legal

However, Jonathan follows through with the alcohol one

It’s his only chance to get close to you outside of studying alongside you

And to his surprise, you come over and share some wine with him

Thankfully, you wind up getting tipsy first, which gives him the chance to make his move

“Ah, y/n. It’s not safe for you to travel back to your estate in such a condition. Allow me to provide you with somewhere to spend the night.”

He lets you stay in his bed, and even convinces you to wear his clothes to bed

Snuck into the room while you were asleep and just watched you

Oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel you, but he couldn’t. It felt like he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you and it bothered him so

Also practically ruined his clothes once he got them back. (Listen man sometimes it’s hard to get cum stains out-)

Dio never lets him hear the end of it and proceeds to give him shitty advice

JOSEPH JOESTAR

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- this man is a WHORE‼️

He has no shame whatsoever and refuses to keep his feelings for you a secret

In fact, you can barely tell if he’s kidding or not when he hits on you

He steals your clothing

Shirts? Gone. Bras? Never to be seen again. Panties? Oh he’ll steal them, ruin them, and then slip them back into your dresser when he’s over

He loves the idea of getting away with it, and it turns him on to know that you’re just as clueless as ever

Slips pictures of himself into your house, leaving them on the counter to make you think of him

Honestly thinks he’s so smooth (Caesar thinks he’s fucking weird)

Has no problem with smacking your ass out of the blue

Also really likes to pick you up and bury his face in your chest

Has collected various photos of you and gets off to them almost every night

Like it’s just a pic of you smiling and he’s hard as hell

While Jonathan whimpers and begs, Joseph moans and mutters

On the loudness scale he’s about 13/10

He does not give a flying FUCK about who hears him

Talks dirty while he fucks his hand, closing his eyes to picture your beautiful face between his legs, smiling up at him

Yeah he likes to take sneak peeks of you in the bath, so what?!

Does all of this with the mentality of “she’ll be mine eventually, so I’m entitled to a head start-“

JOTARO KUJO

Feels a little guilty about it at first, but never feels that way ever again once he gets ahold of a Polaroid of you in a bikini

Carries that shit around with him EVERYWHERE

He has also collected various photos of you, and has a mini photo album that’s dedicated to pictures of you smiling

Sorry but I think he’s into dacryphilia

Sure he loves to see you happy and enjoying yourself, but he just thinks you look so pretty when you cry

He fucking loves it when you come to him in tears, taking it as his chance to wrap his arm around you and bring you in closer to him

He constantly tells you that you’re annoying, but would smash you in a heartbeat

Enemies to lovers bs but he’s in love with you from the start

He prefers to steal your bras over anything else (he seriously has a thing for tits-) and DOES NOT give them back until they stop smelling like you

He also (occasionally) steals your shirts and replaces them with his own. The idea of you walking around in one of his shirts when it’s too big for you really gets him going

Loves to take you out for drinks and then escort you back home

Even better if you’re a lightweight

It gives him a reason to carry you back to your place and tuck you in bed

Once found your ‘special drawer’ while snooping around and fucking stole your vibrator

Granted, he bought you a much better one and snuck it into your drawer, but you were pissed when you noticed it’s absence

He has, and will continue to, use Star Platinum/The World to stop time and get his hands on you

Even if it’s just for a few seconds, he’ll be thinking about it all day

Oh god and Star Platinum loves you too

Grabs and holds you. 10/10 cuddler, even if Jotaro is incredibly embarrassed

You’ve always just seen it as ‘Jotaro’s lonely side’ and nothing more, so you don’t tell off Star

Star has been known to sneak away from Jotaro just to hang out with you

If you and Joot ever end up sharing a hotel room together for any reason, Star will hump you in your sleep

Now, Jotaro lets out low grunts and moans, but is typically quiet when getting off. STAR PLATINUM???? Fucking whimpers and whines like there’s no tomorrow

This man is hanging on by a thread

JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA

Man

On the guilt scale, he’s second place for sure

Feels HORRIBLE

But is also like his dad with the “yolo” mentality

Steals your shirts and shorts, sleeps in them (even if they’re too small), and refuses to give them back

Like your clothes just keep vanishing and you’re like ???

Has used Crazy Diamond to sneak into your place and has no real intentions of stopping

Has a shit ton of photos of you sleeping hidden away in his room

Really just wants to hear you call him a good boy

When he’s needy, he is NEEDY. Humps his pillow, whimpers, whines, the whole ass package

His hand just isn’t enough for him anymore

Unlike his father, he’s not brave enough to get close to you or touch you. My guy can’t even hug you without turning a bright shade of red

Oh and if you come over to play games with him, he’s a total goner

Absolute mess of a man

Can’t do shit without being embarrassed, so he’s a lot less weird than the others

But by god what he would give to hear you call him a good boy

It’s like his one dream

Rohan once used Heaven’s Door on him to get more dirt on him and has (some) no regrets. Will never let Josuke hear the end of it.

“Ohoho you like y/n? Josuke you good for nothing pervert. Give the woman a break.”

Prays that one day you’ll be in trouble and he’ll be the officer sent out to save you

GIORNO GIOVANNA

He’s one second away from going full blown yandere

You can’t change my mind

He’s got everything he needs at his fingertips, and could easily take you away without having to lift a finger

Openly flirts with you, but treats you with such respect that you can’t tell if he’s just being nice or not

Also spoils you

Buys you anything he’s ever seen you take interest in

Even if you don’t really want it, it WILL show up at your door eventually

Makes sure to sign his gifts to you so you don’t forget who it is that’s spoiling you like this

Kisses your hand and cheeks in a way that he claims is platonic

Loves it when you trust him enough that you can come to him for anything. Gossip? Do tell. Something bothering you? Just let him know and he’ll have it all sorted out in no time

I shit you not he makes you sit on his lap while you tell him about your day

You think it’s because the two of you are such good friends, but he actually just loves the sight of you pressed against him

His voice gets higher pitched when he gets off, and he begs a version of you that doesn’t exist to let him cum, pleading with you over and over

Eventually, he’ll start to feel bad about it, but he’d much rather live in the moment

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