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#And it’s truly frustrating and quite frankly heart breaking
caliphoria17 · 7 months
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Can’t believe the trajectory went from:
#SaveWarriorNun
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#WarriorNunSaved
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#CancelWarriorNun
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koifsssh · 10 months
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Danny!
i will re-introduce him! and in depth this time!
Danny Danger is a sort of "antagonist" in the greaser au! A rival to Wally specifically! (it's all in good fun, i assure you!)
(Danger is not his actual last name, but you didn't hear that from me!)
first things first! Danny was made specifically for this au! so I have no idea how he would be outside of it! So everything i will say is in this context!
(long rambles below!)
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Danny runs his own gang of sorts, causing trouble wherever he goes, he's a pain really, and he's one to break rules without a second thought (assuming he knows of the rules, he doesn't care very much!)
Danny is very much the "bad boy" archetype, and he leans heavily into it. So much so he comes off across as Silly! He's not above physical confrontations, and not above playing dirty!
Overall, he's bad news!
there are a few things about him that i find amusing,
he can't fly! but those wings are real! (In his family his wings are actually considered "small", not big enough to actually have him fly... it's a detail he very much loathes!)
He acts nonchalant, and tries to be cool, but secretly he's a ball of anxiety. (again, you didn't hear it from me!)
(he's a fan of pinchos, because he likes "sword fighting" with people after eating) (no major injuries were caused, don't worry!)
unfortunately, he's flirtatious, but in a subconscious way. He'll compliment you, and charm you with fluffy words, but don't trust him! he's just trying to get what he wants... (your heart! don't let him have it!)
(additionally, he's not very good at taking care of it...) (Love is a sort of game to him, he likes playing it, and he doesn't understand how it truly works, so if someone comes along with a sincere word he tends to be thrown off, and he doesn't know what to do.)
(it makes him go backwards, and he gets awkward, because he's just! bwah! he's frustrating!)
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(Rainy is often subjected to Danny's antics, and quite frankly it always falls flat- mostly due to his confusion)
he's self centered, and he does take a great deal of care to try and keep his physical appearance in check (his hair is very shiny and soft... he'll tell you to wash your hands before you can touch it!) (along with his wings!)
He loves attention, and does have the tendency to get jealous when he's not the center of it! He wouldn't go out of his way to get it... at least, most of the time! bwah!
(a little gag for a certain someone...)
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adri-2022 · 2 years
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A good one
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Fandom: Chicago PD
Characters: Jay Halstead x FemReader / OC Olivia
Warnings: fluffy/ slight swearing
Word count: 610
Jay Halstead Materlist
A/N: Hey hey, beautiful readers. Here is a request from @onechicagolovr Based on the song 'The Good Ones' by Gabby Barrett
Don't be afraid to leave your comment!
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You knew he was different from the first time you interacted with him. Meeting by your friend Kim, who is on the same unit as your boyfriend. And quite frankly you had given up on love, plus you had other responsibilities that not many people would accept. But he was unique in his own way a truly loving soul and tonight proved it, yet again.
Almost 10 pm and your 2-year-old daughter Olivia or Livy was not in the mood to sleep. You had been bouncing her in your arms and signing softly but she is stubborn so of course, not working. -God, sleep is glorious, why don’t you wanna sleep?- you thought to yourself
“Please Livy, I really need a break” you whispered as she cried her little eyes out your were getting tired and frustrated.
Just as you were about to call it quits the front door of your house opened making you sigh in relief as Jay walked in a bouquet of flowers on his hand, walking over to you kissing you softly.
“Hi beautiful. Hey- what’s wrong?” his happy expression morphed into concern as he saw your teared up eyes still bouncing Livy as she started crying again.
“I need to tap out. Please” you whispered trying not to cry, but it was frustrating and kind of heart breaking to not be able to get your baby to sleep.
Jay immediately understood nodding his head and taking Livy from your arms. As started biting your nails nervously tears now rolling down your cheeks. Livy had tucked her face in his chest and snacking her little arms around his neck and you were grateful. So, so grateful that this man had taken the role of a father even though his blood didn’t run through her veins.  
“Babe don’t cry” he said softly furrowing his eyebrows as his hand came to caress your cheekbone. He’s a good one for sure, which made you want to cry even more.
“I’m trying…I’m trying really hard” you breath out as you brushed the tears
“I know honey. Hey- I got her. Don’t worry. Take a breather” with that you went to the kitchen.
You busied yourself putting the dishes away. Not knowing how much time had passed when you only heard silence so you made your way back to the living room, confused. It was empty. As you were about to call for Jay a muffled voice and a set of giggles was heard from Livy’s room.
Coming to stand on the doorway your heart melted at the sight in front of you. Livy was fighting against sleep but it was clear sleep was winning. You chuckled into your hand as quietly as you could,
“My little angel” Jay said, loving eyes as he rested his head slightly on top of hers rocking her side to side
“Da-da” your heart stopped as you heard what your daughter had blabbered to Jay before she succumbed to sleep. You quietly looked at Jay, he hadn’t moved he only could beam.
“God, you’re killing me” he whispered before putting her in her crib pulling her blankie towards her. Pushing yourself off the doorframe you walked towards his hunched figure as he towered over Livy’s resting form. Wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his shoulder blade which made Jay sigh draping his arms on top of yours while you both looked down at the little angel.
“God I love her. I’m so fucking grateful” he said in between chuckles, his gaze still locked on Livy as he smiled.
“She loves you more than you think, Jay. I love you” “I love you both”
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trashbag-baby666 · 1 month
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Everyone’s Incomplete. And Who’s the Best at Saving Face?
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Summary: Everretts girlfriend truly never wants to give John a break from her disgusting comments.
WC: 1,460
C/W: Mentions of John having an ED, Hurt/comfort.
MOTA Masterlist!
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John stared down at the slice of pizza sitting on the plate in front of him. The grease from the pizza staring at him like this was some competition. He kept curling and uncurling his toes in the ill-fitting bowling shoes, his hands resting on his knee caps tapping his fingers against them. He needed some kind of social out but he felt stuck in the dark gray plastic chair at the bowling alley. John knew Gale was just in the bathroom and knew he expected John to eat the piece of pizza. The one that was still challenging him everytime he looked down.
He couldn’t throw it away Curt was just getting them a refill on the pitcher of Dr. Pepper. That and Gale told him to make sure John didn’t throw it away.
Maybe this wouldn’t have been the case if John would’ve been having a good day. But he quite frankly, hadn’t. This morning he threw up the peanut butter and Nutella toast.
So, of course he knew Gale would know he would be going on an empty stomach.
He felt embarrassed like some toddler stuck at the table because he wouldn’t eat vegetables. His partners turn away from catching him if tried to slip it to the dogs.
“Do you ever eat?”
John felt his heart drop to his ass at the sound of the wicked witch herself, Ava.
Everett’s evil girlfriend as they called her…do you ever eat? It rang and bounced around John’s head like a tuning fork. Then he felt the turn of his stomach and the sudden wave of nauseating fear of throwing up hit him. He most certainly would not let Ava get the power of seeing him cry. John pushed his chair, keeping his gaze on the carpeted floors of the swirly colorful bowling alley carpet. He went around the corner and down the hall and pushed the door open. Almost hitting Gale with the door, letting out a sob covering his mouth.
“Hey, hey, John sweety.” Gale basically caught him, “What happened?”
John leaned his head into Gale's neck letting out another wet sob. “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here, it’s okay to let it out.” Gale rubbed his back. John couldn’t hold it in anymore, he had been damn near in tears right before they left the house.
Curt came back holding the two pitchers of soda, his eyebrows furrowed as he didn’t see John where he left him a couple minutes ago. But Ava was standing at the high top table looking at her phone and texting. She let out a loud frustrated sigh as she most obviously was texting Everett.
“Did you see where John went?” Curt set the pitchers on the table.
She rolled her eyes with enough force she turned her head, “I dunno…I just asked him something and he stormed off.”
Curt could tell that his simple question was boring her from the two seconds she had to look away from her phone. “What’d you…no. Fuck you Ava.” Curt turned on his heels and stormed to the bathroom the atomic bomb going off in his brain…what the fuck did she say to him?
Curt opened the bathroom door and saw the two boys standing there. John sniffled into Gales' neck. “What happened?” Curt felt the blazing red, hot anger building up inside him just seeing John that upset.
“I don’t know?”
Then it clicked in Curt’s brain, he turned on his heels storming back down the hall and into the main part looking for Everett. What was he going to do when he found him? He’s not sure…yet…he wanted to punch him.
He saw Everett arguing with Ava by the counter. He’d wait till they were done and he would maybe say something; although, he never did.
“Curtie?” That sweet angel voice sang to him.
“Hey, doll face.” Curt kissed his cheek putting an arm around him, “Do you know what Ava said to John?”
“No, I didn't even see him walk away.” Ken’s lip fell into a pout, “She’s so mean to him.”
“I know, I wanna fuckin’ knock her perfect fuckin’ teeth out.” Curt clenched his jaw, balling up his fist.
“I do too but, sadly, that's an assault charge.”
“Do you think Everett’s dad would agree with me if I punched him?”
“Don’t punch anyone, babes.” Ken took curts free hand and began rubbing his knuckles that always seemed to have some kind of bruise or cut on them.
He knew he was right. Curt you shouldn’t punch anyone…well some…
Everett came storming back, his fists clenched. “Hey, outside.” Curt stood up nodding towards the door, catching Everett’s shoulders.
“What?”
“You heard me?”
Everett felt the steaming panic now coursing through his veins as he followed Curt outside of the bowling alley and around the corner of the parking lot. This was it…he was about to get his ass beat by Curt, prepare for the pain…
“What the fuck did she say to John?” Curt spat out at him.
“I don’t know, she didn't say anything about him to me?” Truthfully, they’d been fighting because she had wanted to go through his phone.
“Why are you with her, Ev? She’s a bitch, I’m sorry but it’s true, I’m not sorry actually. You see the way that she treats him when you drag her along to everything we do! You never say anything either becuase you’re a fuckin’ coward. You’re a Coward, Everett. You know just as well as everyone else that John has his shit going on and he does not need her stupid fuckin’ remarks when he’s basically in his own home. Fuck you, Everett.” Curt shoved him back.
Everett stood there silently for a moment then sunk his hands into his pockets to grab out a cigarette and his lighter.
“Ew, what're you doing?” Ava came around the corner, her keys already pulled out of her bag.
“Where are you going?”
“We’re leaving, come on.”
“Whatever, Ava. I gotta go get my shit and say bye to the guys.” Everett snapped, pointing back towards the door.
“Okay well hurry up.” She rolled her eyes. Everett wanted to punch the brick wall so badly but he knew what that would entail…broken hand and a fucked up football season.
Everett came back in and found his vans in the pile of the guys shoes. He found an open seat away from the others and toed off the bowling shoes.
Then Gale walked up…when you get your shoes on, can we talk?” He couldn’t read Gale's voice, he sounded calm but not necessarily in a positive way.
He followed him over to the doors, far enough out of earshot of the others as Everett started to fear for his life in another way. If you had gotten Gale upset you were in deep shit…and that’s about where he was gonna be.
“Look, Everett I love you, you’re one of the coolest guys I know and you’re one helluva football player. But I also love John, and he’s going through a very difficult time and you know that. I’m not getting into it, but I think for now it would be better if you didn’t come around for awhile. I can’t control who you talk to but I think me and John need a break.”
Gale sighed and squeezed Everett’s shoulder then turned on his heels disappearing back into the bowling alley…well obviously this was Gale's way of telling him to leave.
So he did. Not because he wanted to…not because Ava wanted to. Because he didn’t know what other options he had.
John sat in Gales' car, his head rested back on the headrest, staring out the window. The thousand yard stare Gale hated seeing on him.
“Are you doing okay?” Gale rubbed his thigh.
“I guess.” John sniffed, he didn’t know how to be okay. He felt guilty once again pulling Gale away from something .
“Is there anything I can do? Do you want to take a nap together, when we get home?”
“Please.”
“We can take a nap, I’ll make us dinner and then we can watch whatever you want till we go to bed.”
“Okay.” John smiled a bit through the dried up tears. “Maybe tomorrow I can swap lives with Meatball for a day?”
“Maybe, but I don’t know if you’ll like having to watch Meatball with your body getting all kinds of cuddles.”
“You wouldn’t cuddle me if I was Meatball?”
“Yes I would still cuddle you, John.”
“Good because I would totally cry and no one can turn away from a cute crying dog.”
“God, I love you, John.”
“I love you too.”
-
Thank you for reading!!! Liked and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!
Brought to you by Military La La Land @mangokitkats @ihearteugeneroe
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aur0raaura · 8 months
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OKAY. SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE POKEMAS VILLAIN ARC (FOCUSED ON PART TWO OF THE LAST CHAPTER)
Where do i begin. Let's start with the good part about this entire arc. I REALLY LIKE SEEING ALL OF THESE INTERACTIONS RELATING TO THE VILLAIN/ANTAGONIST/RIVAL(?) TEAMS!! Honestly the idea of going through each situation and then seeing Paulo be influenced by their ideas is not bad at all! I just wish they could've done it a bit differently. Though i was smiling a bunch in part two of the final chapter. Just seeing everyone agree that Giovanni has to get stomped down is genuinely hilarious but also satisfying to see. Also, I really loved seeing N and Colress interact. I didn't think I needed that so much until now. YET AS MUCH AS I WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK OF THIS AND ALL THE OTHER INTERVENTIONS FROM OTHER BADDIES AND RIVALS, I need to address the ONE FATAL FLAW in this ENTIRE story in a writing standpoint (in my opinion.) Why did they bench Lear? Why did they leave him out of it for the most part? Look man I'm not gonna be that guy but I would like to remind those reading this ramble of mine that HOOPA IS LEAR'S CLOSE FRIEND??????? IT WOULD BE OBVIOUS THAT LEAR SHOULD'VE BEEN MORE INVOLVED.
Imagine missing the biggest chance on writing a tale that could've paralleled the Prince's character arc. It's so frustrating!!!!!! LIKE- I GET IT PAULO IS MEANT TO SHINE IN THIS TALE, BUT LEAR COULD'VE STILL BEEN INVOLVED IN THIS AS ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW- ANOTHER PERSON OF INTEREST. THINK about it, Lear DID SHOW his concern about Paulo- it could've been a good plot point to touch upon while also connecting their paths with Hoopa going sicko mode thanks to Paulo's desire to be "The Last Evil" or whatever. They could've shown the parallel of Paulo no longer relying on others while Lear does THE EXACT OPPOSITE. GOING TO FAMILIAR FACES, ASKING FOR HELP TO FIND HOOPA, GET THE INT. POLICE INFORMED OF THIS DISAPPEARANCE CUZ IT COULD BE RELATED TO WHAT THEY'RE INVESTIGATING. IM SO MAD MAN!!!!!!!! IM MAD AND SAD!!!!!!!!!!!! Think of how insanely good it would've been to see Lear and Paulo cross paths, think about the confrontation and learning he was the one who had Hoopa and decided not to get the lil guy back- think about the fact that's how his friend ended up in Giovanni's plans because IM SURE AS HELL HE WOULD'VE KNOWN TEAM ROCKET HAS HOOPA DUE TO TWO ADMINS HAVING LEGENDARIES THAT OTHER TRAINERS USE AND ARE ACTING STRANGE BACK IN THE VILLA. THINK ABOUT THE POSSIBILITY OF LEAR HAVING TO HOLD BACK ON HIS FRUSTRATION AND GO WITH PAULO, TINA AND THE PLAYER CHARACTER TO RUSH TO GIOVANNI AND SNAP HOOPA OUT OF IT, WITH OR WITHOUT COLRESS' DEVICE. (I would've done it without the device because I FEEL that it would be a good chance to do a parallel to the moment in the PML arc where Lear poured his heart out to Hoopa as he was saving him from Team Break) I TRULY AM SORRY IF THIS HAS ANY LACK OF PAUSE OR GRAMMAR AT POINTS BUT MAN- This could've been so much better if they adjusted one or two things..... I just wanna know if lear really is calm after all this- because quite frankly there's no way in hell that he'd forgive Paulo this easily.
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anysin · 5 months
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Fic: I Might Miss You
For anon who requested Jonah/Mordechai with leaving notes in a house and preparing for a party, here is a twisted fluff fic where Jonah takes on Barnabas's bet and has to deal with the Lonely. SWF but fucked up relationships.
I Might Miss You
Once he's in the Lonely, it doesn't take Jonah long to want to beg to be let out.
He goes on with is days, focusing on his work which is, fortunately, endless, pretending it doesn't bother him that the streets outside his house are empty, that none of his friends are showing up on his doorstep for impromptu visits like they usually do. He even misses the animals, the song of the birds, even the bothersome scutter of a mouse within his house, which he has failed to exterminate despite cats and other hunters. His new world is silent, lifeless, and it's quickly driving him insane.
And yet Jonah can't forget that he agreed to this himself: both to pay for the debt of Barnabas Bennet, and because he was curious. He wanted to see it for himself, what the world that Mordechai loves so much is like.
Therefore, even as the yearning for the sight of any other human face, for any other living creature, grows strong inside him, he refuses to howl out in his misery, show in any way that this is hell. Even though it is torture, to act like this is nothing, but this is how Jonah is going to win his game in the end. Jonah is going to prove his worth.
*
After a while, Mordechai decides to make things harder for him by reminding Jonah of what he has lost.
Jonah starts to find notes all over his house, some of them containing quotes of poetry, some of them inspipid motivational quotes, some of them actual short, sparse correspondence from Mordechai to Jonah. Jonah unfolds the notes, reads them as fast as he can, and puts them back where he found them, proceeding to ignore their existence until they disappear. Even though the correspondence, in particular, is obviously meant to stir him into replying.
How are you, Jonah? I hope you are holding up, Mordechai's letters say in the beginning, faux innocent in their concern. These notes are easy to ignore; Jonah isn't in the mood for playful mockery in these times.
Barnabas is doing fine, you know, they start to say later, taking on a more vicious tone. I would love to say he's very grateful to you for your great sacrifice, but frankly, I don't think he has noticed you being gone. I have truly never met such a carefree man.
The words about Barnabas sting; they are meant to. But even as Jonah's mind itches to know more, about Barnabas's traitorous ways, if they are true or not, he keeps his hand from writing a response, time after time. Whether Barnabas has really betrayed him in his heart or not, Jonah must be strong, and pretend it doesn't matter.
You have been doing exceptionally well, Mordechai's letters proceed to say, and the comfort in them feels a little too genuine. Not for long now.
Jonah doesn't know what Mordechai means by that, and he doesn't allow himself to speculate. The fact Mordechai has resorted to this means that Jonah is doing well in their game; he just has to keep going.
*
Jonah is working at his desk when Mordechai finally appears at his doorway. He is quite worn now, his hand shaking as he writes, but he stubbornly writes; he is determined to make sure that the Institute's business won't be left incomplete should this place really be his end. Even though he's aware of Mordechai's presence, he focuses on his writing until he hears Mordechai's foot start to tap, and finally his irritated voice:
"You really are the most stubborn creature, aren't you?" Mordechai sighs, deep and frustrated. "Is Barnabas Bennet really worth this?"
"No," Jonah admits, raising his head. He puts his quill down, licks his dry lips. "But you are, Mordechai. Did I prove my worth to you?"
Mordechai, the cold, heartless Mordechai, breaks into shivers before him.
"Yes," Mordechai says. "Look around you."
Jonah doesn't get a chance to do so; he ends up jumping instead when he feels something skittering right past his foot, and a second later he sees a mouse hurrying out of his office, indicating he is back in the real world. Jonah will have to find a way to eliminate that little thing, but for now its fleeing form is a joyous sight; breaking into weak, relieved laughter, Jonah collapses on his desk, clutching its edges as he hears Mordechai approach him.
"But his debt is paid?" Jonah asks, holding onto the desk. Somehow, it feels more real than it has in a while, more solid and warm.
"You paid it, yes. He doesn't deserve it." Mordechai sighs again, resting his big hand on the top of Jonah's head, stroking his fingers through his hair. "You didn't need to prove anything to me, Jonah."
"I needed to prove you that I can face your god, and survive." Jonah wonders, though; will there be a chill in his heart forever now? He brushes the thought aside, sitting up. "How long was I away exactly? I hope you have had someone take care of my business while I was gone."
"Don't worry about that. Worry about how we should present ourselves at Smirke's upcoming party instead." Mordechai's hand slides down to cup Jonah's face, stroking his cheek with his rough thumb. "You have become tiny. We need a new outfit for you."
"You twisted creature." Jonah shakes his head, clutching the back of Mordechai's hand. "You torture me for, what, months, and now you want me to go to a party with you? Your priorities are strange for sure."
"You wanted it to happen." Mordechai takes Jonah's hand into his own, leaning down so he can kiss it. "And you aren't saying no."
And despite his ordeal, Jonah really isn't.
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Tagged by the lovely @boysbeloving and @evil-moonlight ♡♡♡ i love you both so much
8 shows to get to know me. This might be difficult and I might scrape for some but here we go
1. Beyond evil
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(Aka. The show that fucked me up irreparably. Thanks to @spicyn00dl recomending it to me I to this day am not over how fucking good this show is and will continue to recomend it to everyone )
2. Kinnporsche
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(Another impactful one! And quite frankly the one I posted most about! Kinnporsche will always have a special place in my heart despite me fading out of the fandom i will always love them and i know i will come back to ut but for now the barrel is empty and i need to give it a break. [Tho after some... personal problems i might dip my toes into the fic writting world in here just because])
3. Young royals
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(Now here is a show i started on the day it aired thanks to my platonic soulmate. I've never watched a show for this demographic that was quite as nice. The fact that it's a swedish show only adds to it for me as i quite literally will attach to anything that feels less american than every other show)
4. Buddy daddies
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(Now im still 2episodes behind here but this show caught my eye a few weeks ago and now it's full comfort town. Im a sucker for found family and truly? Kid fics are amazing sometimes expecially when the child is unconventionally aquired so having that in a great show? Ugh sign me up )
5. Black butler
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(Now this is my blast from the past. This is probably one of the first animes i watched that weren't Pokémon and every other childhood anime. While today it's not.. quite as good in restrospect the first season has always brought me comfort and it really is a comfort show now )
6. I am not okay with this
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(I will never get over this show being cancelled. I watched it just after i got in an "It" obsession so it was quite fitting and i got attached to the characters and just... the vibes, the plot, the characters and relationships? It was fucking great)
7. Another
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(Another original let's say. This was the first anime i ever finished. I still adore it and have rewatched it a lot. There isnt a lot of fandom surrounding this but the story is fucking phenomenal, the characters are great and dont even get me started on the fuvking soundtrack-)
8. Merlin
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(AKA. my new obsession that i havent quite dived in yet but the show and characters bring me so much joy and frustration it might as well be called therapy )
Thank you again for the tags my dears♡♡♡ i was a bit late to it but ive been having .. a time.
No pressure tags♡: @ettelwenailinon @another-side-character @pondsphuwin @impending-doom-lol @spicyn00dl
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melxrose · 1 year
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“I don’t think you should go…” From behind her coffee cup, Melanie’s tearful eyes glanced up at her husband. Sitting across the table, Kyle was looking back stoically in her direction. Was he really suggesting she ditch her parents’ funeral? A bit confused, her mind replayed his words to reassure her that her clouded thoughts hadn’t allowed her to mishear what he had to say. But before she could draw a conclusion, he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “You have deadlines to meet and quite frankly, there is nothing for you back in Hartsville anymore. You should just stay home and focus on work, it's in your best interest Melanie.”
Focus on work? Did Kyle truly expect her to go about as if she wasn't notified of her parents' deaths just mere hours ago? A look of disbelief settled across her face as Melanie searched her brain for the proper words to say in response to her husband’s distasteful suggestion. But she was freshly heartbroken and completely devastated over the tragedy that had just occurred. Focussing on anything else in this moment, including the proper response, was an impossible feat. Instead, Mel simply responded with a hesitant shake of the head as she forced out whatever words she could say. “No Kyle…” she finally spoke, her trembling voice barely a whisper. “I-I can’t do that. I have to go.” As far as she was concerned, the topic wasn’t up for debate. But Kyle wasn’t having it. In response, the male abruptly sprung to his feet and let out a frustrated huff. In one swift and angry motion, he pushed the table away from him, using it to pin Melanie to her chair. From the center of the table, a vase of daisies swayed back and forth. In a complete state of shock, Melanie’s eyes fixated on the flowers watching them seemingly in slow motion. But despite her urges, she couldn’t react. Frozen in place, she continued to watch as the vase toppled over, water spilling from its mouth as it rolled across the table and then fell, shattering on the floor. Melanie flinched, but she was unsure if her response was a result of the broken vase, or Kyle’s unexpected outburst. For a moment, her brown hues observed the mess of broken glass and scattered flower petals that now covered the floor before they slowly trailed back to her husband. “So you’re just going to throw away the opportunities that I’ve gone out of my way to provide for you?” Kyle snapped as he paced back and forth. His eyes meeting with hers, he let out an outraged chuckle and shook his head. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.” Perplexed, Melanie blinked back her tears. Kyle’s behavior was completely unexpected and without a doubt, unwarranted. She felt as if she were suffocating, her breath escaping her as she attempted to process the situation at hand. Kyle had always been assertive, stubborn even. But this… this was different. She was broken and instead of comforting her, her husband chose to instill fear. “Kyle…” Melanie whispered as her eyes pleaded for him to stop his eruption. But her pleas were ignored, instead he only continued. “Wipe that look off your face, Melanie. I can’t deal with the tears or this pitiful expression. You are ridiculous and I cannot be bothered with your nonsense right now.” His words stung like a dagger through her already broken heart. But despite everything Kyle was shouting, Melanie wasn’t upset with him. Nor was she angry with him. She was afraid of him. For the first time since moving to New York, she didn’t recognize the man before her. He had gotten her tangled up into his web of lies and now he was going in for the kill, breaking her spirit and showing his true colors in the process. But with the news of her parents, Kyle was all she had left. Melanie had no where to go and nobody to turn to. She was stuck... and she only had herself to blame. 
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saphirered · 2 years
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The new series has really gotten me back into Vox. Its been a long while since I last watched anything Vox related but the Whitestone arc is my favorite over all the campaigns.
Could you do a Percival x reader where the last name on the barrel happens to be the readers name instead of Cassandra's?
I would love to see the build up to that point to know why the name might have appeared and what the consequences are after it appears but tbh ill be happy with anything you write.
Have a lovely day <3
Hope this turned out to your liking! Posting in 2 parts for readability but can be read separately. 😘
You’d been put on Percy-watch to make sure the gunslinger wouldn’t get trigger-happy again like what happened in previous encounters with certain names on his list. The fact that his friends and you deem it necessary for him to have a babysitter frustrates him to no end. Not because he doesn’t want your company but simply because you can see him struggle, you see him at his weakest and most vulnerable but most of all you’re perceptive enough to see through his facades, watch him slip up and fail to fight this inner demon and when he sees you give him that saddened smile, tell him everything will be alright, tell he will be alright, it just breaks his heart every single time because while he might be one for confidence, overconfidence even, Percy knows the odds, knew them when he made that deal, and knows this is not a fight he is sure to come out alive. He never intended to. As long as he got his revenge.
Things haven’t changed. He will get his revenge. He will obliterate those who wronged him and killed his family. Blood for blood. And now with those who he can call family at his side that will fight for him to the very end, put their lives on the line for him and do everything in their power to make sure he sees the next sunrise; still he doesn’t truly dare hope he will. Disappointment is as much of a curse as delusion is. But in running through the ruined streets of Whitestone, seeing the vile creatures that have taken the homes of those he once called friends, people he grew up with, it makes his blood boil and sometimes freeze in reminisce. Whenever he cracks just a fraction he feels a hand slide into his, fingers squeezing tightly. When there’s an opportunity to remain, you’d stand at his side, gauging wether to speak some words of comfort or confidence or stand in silence and let him wallow with a tether back to this world and out of his mind because that’s what you are; a tether. And one that this demon of his does not appreciate the presence off because that faint little spark within him whenever you’re there, whenever you’re at his side or simply in his mind, that tiny spark is hope. Hope.
But then judgement day comes and things do not go as planned. First you stop him from immediately murdering Anna Ripley; one of the names on his list in favour of using her knowledge to better prepare you all for what you might face and he is seething when the woman slips away out of his grasp. He’ll get her one day. He still has a barrel with her name on it and bullets to match and Percy knows that the advantages given by the wretched woman will pay off, that voice in his head tells him he could have done without, should have rid this world of the woman even if they all would have been overwhelmed with the Briarwood thralls.
“Why did you have to let her go? She is a threat to us all!” Percy argues when you get a moment of respite in the crypts. You’d moved far away enough from the others at his request so the others wouldn’t hear. It’s already bad enough they know what they know and you’re growing more suspicious too and not just of him.
“Right now Ripley is the least of our worries, Percy. You’ve grown reckless, inconsiderate and quite frankly, could do with bringing back those manners of yours.” You retort. You’ve tried to keep your cool and have been slipping due to the stress of it all but most of all; fear for Percy’s wellbeing. This is worse. Worse than you’ve ever seen. Whitestone was always going to be a reminder of his past and dig at the years of trauma and other lasting scars but what’s causing this, it’s so much more than that. This is something else and you’re afraid. Not just for him but of him.
“Oh, manners you say? I’m so terribly sorry I want justice for my family and the people of Whitestone. My sincere apologies for wanting to do right by this world and rid it of yet another demon. I only wish to do right by my people. Is that too much to ask?” He quips back jaw clenched and you ball your hands into fists, nails digging into your palms as stinging reminders who’s in front of you and while you might usually have had the mind to deescalate and get to the root of this problem, you have neither the time nor the patience to put up with this bullshit so you’ll just say it as you see it with no mercy.
“You might be willing to gamble with your own soul but I will not let you do so with the lives of countless others because your shortsightedness!” Those words sting like a slap to the face but within him that cruelty rises. Percy tries to fight it, so hard.
“Then maybe you do not have the heart or stomach for what needs to be done, dear. Run on home. I don’t need you.” Poison. His words are pure poison and leave a sour taste in his mouth. He spoke before thinking, almost as if something else took control to push through that growing hatred, despite the love he still holds for you. Something is stirring him to hatred and he can’t handle it. His mind tells him to step away but he forces himself not to and look you into your eye when your heart breaks. You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh deeply. Hands rise to his cheeks and hold his face, forcing him to look into your eyes and see the damage his words caused.
“I will do whatever it takes to save my family, in spite of what I lost they are my priority. Come and find me when you’ve set yours straight and see if you’re still worthy of my list.” And so you step away, that pain once seen in yours grows cold and indifferent and that alone hurst more than the torture he’s endured because he once again feels like he’s losing everything all over again. Quickly that feeling is numbed. Maybe you’re not so deserving of his life if you can’t accept him like this. Maybe you’re not worthy of his attention if you’re not but an obstacle in his path to revenge. Maybe you were just a distraction turned inconvenience. He doesn’t want to believe that but the seeds have already been planted. He may love you, but that doesn’t change where you stand and where he does and he is not willing to jeopardise his path for his heart. He will choose vengeance over anything else.
And so they continue on to the refinery, acidic in all its glory and the trap sets off. You were closest to Vax’ildan and with just one shot you gave him a nod, a cloaked arm wrapping around your shoulder and you reappeared on the other side of the glass with Cassandra but then the Briarwoods showed up. Fighting them was futile with the others out of reach and then Vax fell back under the mind control of Lord Briarwood, you were all on your own. You were the next target and when your mind proved strong enough to resist the influence of the vampire they were all but ready to kill you. You wouldn’t beg for your life but you knew Vax would be next. Least you could do was give them a fighting chance and buy Vax time, maybe even his life. A sword swings for your neck and your eyes remain on Percy, he avoids your glance, instead remaining on his sister. She betrayed him. She betrayed all of you.
“Wait.” You say and the sword stops. You don’t move nor cower or beg like one could expect from someone faced with their demise. That’s enough to draw their attention, if even for a second. It’s enough for you.
“Last words?” Lord Briarwood smiles wickedly as the sharp edge of that dark blade grazes the skin of your neck, making you lift your chin higher. That ounce of fear within your eyes brings him enough satisfaction despite your brave face.
“I’m willing to make a deal.”
“And what would you have to bargain with? You are at our mercy.” The Lady Briarwood speaks with boredom and a hint of annoyance at the delay.
“My life for his.” You nudge your eyes in the direction of the half-elf. “We are the same, you and I. The difference is that I watched what I loved shatter until it turned to dust. I owe Vax’ildan a debt of gratitude and in turn to fulfil that debt, I offer you my life, my loyalty. You’ve seen what I can do. It’s not like I have left worth fighting for.” You speak more to Delilah than her husband despite him holding your life in his hands. You know playing to his emotions is useless. He’s a creature of impulse and arrogance, and from experience you know that’s not a side you can best play into. You’ll do what you have to to spare Vax. Even if that means standing against your friends. Even if that means standing against Percy. At the end of the day your life is but a small sacrifice if it means your loved ones get to live. Whatever it takes. And that’s why Percy’s true last words to you hurt the more.
“No!” You struggle to not respond, not falter to Percy’s cry; his true self breaking through that growing darkness within his heart, taking hold of him. You glance at the commotion from your beloved Percy as he unleashes shot after shot at the glass wall, indifference clear in your eyes and even some spite. It’s a struggle to do so but you pull it off. Delilah notices the roots of his response and it’s enough for her to gesture for her husband to lower the sword. The metal eases from your neck and you take less restricted breath brushing your fingers over the skin of your neck.
“Goodbye, Percival.” Those are your last words to him. He wants to scream and shout and fight, curse the gods and fiends across the planes, curse himself for warranting this because he was the one to tell you those vile things. He’s the cause for you turning on them all. Yes you might have saved Vax but you condemned the rest of them, just like his actions would have lead him to do had he taken Ripley’s life when he had the chance. He wants to hate you, but he hates himself for still loving you through it all, even if you broke his heart. And with that last shot at the glass wall as your back turns and you disappear into shadow another name burns into the barrel. It’s yours. Another traitor. Just another name now.
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astaroth1357 · 4 years
Text
Brothers React to the MC Looking at Them Lovingly
This is a personal experiment. This is the very first time I've written one of these with a goal in mind, "Make them fall in love all over again." It's a tall order. I hope I succeeded. 🙏 Special thanks to @a-chaotic-dumbass for picking the mood for this one!
Intro:
We all know that look. The one where one person stares at another like they just realized they're the only thing in the universe and they're in fucking awe of it. The kind of look that tells you they're utterly enthralled by that other person and just can't get enough of their presence. That look. Yeah, the brothers just got that look out of the MC.
Let's warm some cold hearts, everybody.
Lucifer
Lucifer was always beautiful. Always has been, as an angel or a demon.
A morning star is one that outshines all the rest. It stands out when the other stars have dimmed, holding onto its luster in defiance of the sun. 
There couldn't be a truer title for Lucifer to have. Not the horrors of war nor the fires of Hell could tarnish his radiance in any way…
But there were moments, like right then, where the MC caught a glimpse of a different sort of Lucifer.
His brothers would often only see the uptight Lucifer, the practiced visage of perfection that he tried so hard to keep up… 
But after a long day, when he thinks he's alone, he retires to his room to listen to his music and the difference is astonishing.
There's something so entrancingly calm about him… How the light of the fireplace flickers and dances across his alabaster skin to the subtle slouch of his posture. His face no longer marred by creases of stress and frustration… 
And his expression is so pure… So tranquil and at peace… Beauty without effort. A shine that can't be ignored. A morning star, in the truest sense of the word…
It took awhile for Lucifer to see the MC leaning against his doorframe.
They were staring at him with the oddest look… Smiling like they were enraptured by something, but he didn't have a clue why. He was just sitting there…
So, naturally, he turned to suspicion.
"Am I really that amusing…?"
Frankly, he wasn’t prepared for the little laugh they let out in response.
"Mm? No, no... I'm just always so amazed by you, is all. I'll leave you to your music..."
Having thoroughly ruined the mood, the MC then turned to leave. But Lucifer was already upon them before they could step away, wrapping his arms around their waist and letting contented hum escape his chest.
"Going so soon…?"
Apparently he appreciated the compliment.
Mammon
He didn't have to do it.
When Belphie bumped into one of the House's vases, shattering it against the tile, he didn’t have to take the fall for it.
It wasn’t connected to him at all. He could have stayed quiet and no one would have pointed a finger at him for once.
But he did.
When Mammon set his phone down on the table, MC knew instantly that he had lied in the chat.
He was with them the entire day, he didn't have the time to accidentally break a vase. He hadn't even gone down that hallway all day...
But he said something anyway.
And he didn't even look fazed. He didn't turn towards them seeking approval nor did he look irritated that Belphie didn't speak up. He didn't curse at himself for doing something so self-sacrificing either...
When Mammon leaned back into the cushion of his couch, the MC saw something truly remarkable on his face… A smile. A small one, sure, but relaxed… 
Assured in his own actions. Confident in his choice and accepting the consequences… undeserved, and likely thankless, they may be.
A genuine, serene smile…
Mammon wasn't sure what he expected to see when he turned to the MC. Probably confusion or disbelief that he, the Great Mammon, could be so selfless.
Definitely not the awed, lovestruck look he got...
"G-gah!" He panicked slightly and pressed himself back against the armrest of the couch in shock. "Wh-... What'cha lookin at me like that for??"
When the MC didn't answer after a few seconds and just kept staring, he honestly didn't know what to do. Were they broken or something??
"Oi, MC! I asked ya wh-Hey wait a minute!!"
He made a noise between a yelp and a shout when the MC leapt forward and latched their arms onto him. What had gotten into them??
"U-uh… MC? MC?? Damnit MC, answer me already!! Or at least stop squeezin so tight!!... MC!!!"
Leviathan 
To anyone else, it was just Levi being Levi.
He had finished a new episode of his latest animated obsession and he had to share it with someone. Anyone would do, but the MC was always willing to lend an ear.
Something about Levi really changes when he talks about his passions… It's like he comes alive in a whole new way.
He speaks at a mile-a-minute, but that's because he's so excited the words fly from his mouth. 
Some part of him is always bouncing, be it his leg or body. Sometimes even his tail will swish and curl behind him like an ecstatic puppy. And his eyes… 
Citrine pools that glimmer and dilate from the exhilaration of it all. It's his little world and anyone can see he's thrilled to be sharing it. 
You'd never know he was shy. You'd never think he'd look down himself. You'd never guess that he hid himself away… Why would someone so full of passion and life ever want to? Some things are just too beautiful to keep hidden...
Levi had only gotten six minutes into his latest rant before he finally registered how the MC was staring at him…
This man has seen enough shoujo to know what that look means and it shut him up sooo quick. If anyone else were in the room they would have seen a beet-red Levi desperately trying to hide his face.
"M-MC…! S-top staring at me like that…!!"
"Like what~?" 
He didn't have to look at them to hear the teasing lilt in their voice.
"MC…" He peeked out from behind his fingers to see them still staring and covered himself up more vigorously. "Stoooop…!!!"
But secretly? He wished they'd never stop. His cheeks may have been red from embarrassment, but his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest to hug them itself. Hell, he'd have happily given it over to them if they'd asked…
Please just let those loving eyes be for him and him alone...
Satan
Soft isn't exactly a word anybody would use to describe Satan, least of all himself.
His anger was quick to spark, his strength was nothing to scoff at, and even his smiles were nothing but plastic for nearly all of his existence…
Nearly.
The MC learned surprisingly quick that there was one thing that could bypass all of the hidden ferocity to Satan's personality. Something that could make him melt like butter in the summer sun…
Satan had always looked a little cute when he was reading. He was easily at his most expressive when engrossed in a thrilling story or deeply intrigued by something he found between the pages of a book…
But watching Satan read about cats, as he was right then, was really something else entirely.
Maybe it was the way his emerald eyes would sparkle or the lopsided grin he just couldn't hide as he would scan the pages about the playful habits of Bengals or the relaxed nature of Ragdolls…
Maybe it was the sheer impassioned dedication he took the subject, pouring countless hours into collecting and memorizing every fact he could from their diets to coat maintenance.
Or maybe it was the sheer fact that anytime he saw a picture of kitty in-print he looked like a besotted schoolgirl drawing hearts around her crush in a teen magazine.
Really, who's to say? But to the MC, it was proof that under all that anger, there was a tender, loving center even for the smallest, softest creatures…
Satan automatically snapped his book closed when he saw MC watching him from behind a bookshelves. Caught red-handed…
He knows exactly how he looks when he's doing his research internally squealing over cat pictures so he tries to do so in private...
He was about to sputter out a defensive explanation but then he registered their face…
He'd seen that look described in stories, romance novels mostly, but he'd rarely seen it in action… and never once leveled at him with such intensity…
Not to be cliche, but frankly his heart skipped a beat.
Satan forgot about his book briefly and got up to close the distance between them, tilting their chin up to keep their eyes on him.
"Like something that you see, Kitten?"
"You could say that…"
He laughed at their attempt to play coy, but let it slide just this once… Easy to do with them looking at him so amorously.
Asmodeus 
Asmo is a very popular demon. Someone so free ought to know quite a lot of people, after all.
And, of course, he had plenty of fans. He made DevilTube videos, hosted radio shows, fashion designed, and even modeled.
So it wasn't very surprising when a young demoness stopped him while he and the MC were out shopping. It wasn’t the first time he had been asked to sign autographs, but this meeting… it was different.
It was clear to them both that this girl was shy. Though she held out the paper, her eyes stayed firmly on the ground and she stumbled on her question… She likely a fan from afar, but everything about her seemed meek… unassuming.
Most people would have just gave the autograph then went on with their day. The interaction could have taken five seconds at most… but not Asmo.
He asked her name… where she was from, how she was feeling, her favorite foods, outfits, makeup, you name it. All with investment.
It was amazing to watch the shy young woman slowly open up, getting more bright and cheerful with each passing question until it evolved into a healthy conversation.
When their little meeting finally wrapped up, he gave her back the paper (now signed) but also fished out a bottle of perfume from among the mountains of bags he was carrying. He gave it to her and wouldn't hear anything to the contrary, he could always buy another.
None of his brothers ever gave Asmo enough credit for his giving nature… even if he had his own way of going about it. Though he cared so much about image and his ability to shine, he never hesitated to make sure that the people around him shined too...
Asmo waved to the fan as she scampered away and was about to  apologize to the MC when he saw their face…
The man knows this look well. He's seen it a billion times, though it was particularly cute coming from them.
"Awww MC! Taken by my beauty are you~?"
He was about ready to kiss their cheek when they responded.
"No, not your looks, Asmo… with you."
… Oh.
It was very rare to see Asmo speechless, but for a few seconds his mind seemed to take in their words… letting them fully sink in before his heart utterly melting.
Oh MC… His sweet MC!!
Asmo ended up dropping the rest of his bags just so he could properly litter his human in nuzzles and kisses, the both of them humming and giggling in delight despite their shameless PDA.
Of course it would be his MC to see that part in himself… Who else would take the time?
Beelzebub 
Food is a precious resource to Beel. For him, it's a lifeline. A good meal could save him from the brink of starvation…
But that still doesn't make him incapable of sharing from time to time.
He and the MC were walking back to the House after getting takeout from Hell's Kitchen. Beel hadn't even waited until they left the restaurant to start eating his share, spilling the smell of fresh food into the air around them…
Things were going fine on their route back until they heard whimpering behind them…
A hellhound puppy, not quite old enough to bear its fangs, seemingly followed them as they were walking… It looked like it had been out for some time and eyed their food with hungry eyes, but weak posture. Who knows when it last had a meal?
The MC was about to tug at Beel's sleeve and say something, but their demon was ahead of them this time.
A casual observer might have gawked at the sight of Gluttony kneeling down to offer such a lowly creature a sandwich. But the MC knew better. When you spend your whole life hungry, nobody more than you understands that kind of pain in someone else. 
This reaction wasn't out of character for Beel, it was elementary.
And when the puppy finished its meal and covered Beel's cheeks with appreciative licks, he just laughed and scratched behind its ears. Amethyst eyes looking more relieved at its health than disappointed he lost some of his lunch...
Food was Beel's lifeline, but kindness is what made him who he was…
When the pup finally scampered off, Beel looked over at the MC to tell them it'd be alright and saw their face…
He wasn't really sure what they were staring at… Did he have something between his teeth again?
"MC? Are you okay...?"
They laughed at him for some reason but pulled him in for a hug so they must have meant well.
"You're so sweet, Beel…"
Beel's never one to refuse a compliment so he just hugged them back, beaming.
"Thank you, MC…"
Belphegor 
To say that Belphegor tended to be on the melancholic side would be an understatement… It wasn’t that he was incapable of expressing joy, it was just harder for him to do than most. Not helped, of course, by his tendency to keep his true feelings vague and hard to pinpoint.
But on those rare occasions where he was overjoyed… Belphie could really be something special…
The MC and Belphie were attending one of Beel's games and it was a tight one… Both teams had spent most of it tied and Beel's team was running out of time to overtake that slim margin.
Belphie had always been a supporter of his twin's athletics, but this time it was tense even for him. He kept on the edge of his seat and didn't even nod off during the breaks like he normally would… The MC could just tell how nervous he was for Beel…
But right as the time was about to run out, Beel made a last minute score and sure, the whole field erupted, but Belphie? Belphie hollered.
The normally sleepy and mellow demon was on his feet in an instant and practically shredding his vocal chords in excitement. If his tail had been out, it would have been beating against the bleachers like a war-drum. And his expression?
Belphie's smile is said to stop hearts for a reason. When he puts his all into a grin it's almost like he ascends to Heaven once more, as pure as an angel's choir and as warm as a summer's breeze… Nothing in his eyes but pride and adoration for his beloved twin brother.
Truly, a heartwarming sight to behold…
Belphie didn't calm down until the rest of the crowd settled and was about to point out Beel's skill to the MC when he noticed their face.
… oh no… Why do they look so sappy…?
"You really love your brother, don't you?"
Belphie quickly hid his thoughts behind an irritated frown and plopped back down in his seat… but that didn't shield them from seeing his pink cheeks.
"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"
He debated just joining Beel on the field to hide his embarrassment when he heard them snicker back.
"Yeah, you're right… Don't mind me."
Oh he minded. He minded a lot that he let his carefully veiled image slip like that. But thinking back to that smile on their face…?
Maybe being a little open wasn't so bad after all...
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yourmidnightlover · 3 years
Text
never go back
Summary: spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.
TW: titty sucking, oral (female receiving), cheating, dom!spencer, scratching, slapping (only one), cursing, choking, spencer dirty talk lol, penetrative sex, creampie. *let me know if i missed anything*
WC: 3,724
A/N - i'm using noah as the 'other man' schtick in probably all of my future one shots bc i can't find it within myself to create a new character each and every time. so your douche of a bf will always be noah miller. if you ever get a nice bf i'll be sure to change his name but for now this is what we're working with. got it? got it.
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there are many things that people should go back to. schooling, maybe an old job, an old vacation spot.
your boyfriend was not one of those things.
mostly because your boyfriend sucked.
it was now a fact that spencer reid himself had come to believe quite a while ago and now, well now he had reason.
he had always felt as though you were too good for noah, similar for practically anyone in existence (himself included). he was always a complete ass to you no matter the circumstance.
there was one time the entire team had been back really late from a case that took a toll on all of you. it was emotionally and physically draining. the flight back had been delayed because of weather issues in the state you had been in, meaning you couldn't leave until days after it was solved.
any time you had gone to answer the phone, spencer would be able to see your stance and body language through the glass window. you had been apologizing for something you couldn't even control. you would narrow your brows the way you only did when you were being yelled at. you bit your lip the way you did when you were being made to feel guilty.
he was guilt tripping you for something you couldn't even control.
when you had gotten back it wasn't any better. noah had been giving you the cold shoulder. he was defensive when you asked what was wrong.
and that was only 3 weeks into the relationship.
after being together for 2 months, you had gotten flowers delivered on your desk. you assumed they were from your boyfriend, reasonably so, and went to go thank him. spencer saw the shock in your eyes when you saw your boyfriend huddled in the corner with some new intern. spencer saw the look in your eye change from sadness to anger in the blink of his own.
you took a deep breath, and walked away from the situation, completely missing the way he tucked the intern's hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper something to make her giggle. when you got back to your desk you threw the flowers in the garbage can, not even bothering to read the note.
it was pretty indirect, but looking into it he realized it was an issue that should've been addressed. every time the team would go out together, everyone was clearly invited. you would always decline because 'noah wanted to take me out tonight' or 'noah said he needs me, so i'll have to rain check'.
it wasn't because you were a bad person, the opposite actually. it was because noah was taking advantage of your kindness.
because any time you needed him, 'noah's out with the boys' or 'noah had to work late' or, here's a kicker, 'noah had a hard time at work'. as if you don't have a hard time looking at dead bodies while he just has to write up reports.
even when you got injured during a case, shot in the shoulder, noah seemed as though he couldn't have cared less. he wouldn't even go to your apartment to visit you while you were in recovery because 'noah didn't have time to visit'.
spencer could even recall when you went out with the girls one night, spencer being the designated driver, that you had told them how 'noah didn't want you to dress too provocatively so you had to wear something more modest'.
now, spencer doesn't care all to much about what you wear because, frankly, it's none of his business. but now that he heard how noah cared oh-so-much, he decided to wrack his brain for the 'provocative' outfits you've worn. there was not a single one that anyone should make a comment about. you looked stunning no matter what you wore, so you'd grab any man's attention no matter the clothing on your body.
but spencer? he made sure to never be that much of an asshole to you. he made sure to make up for him being an asshole.
he would grab you some morning coffee like you always had before you had a boyfriend. he would make sure to tell you that you looked lovely when you were able to go out with the team. he would visit you when you injured yourself and were lonely, he even stayed back for a few days with you to help you get through it.
hell, he was the one to get you the flowers. you had been having a rough week and spencer thought it might cheer you up. he had gifted you a bouquet of 12, blue chiffon flowers because those were your favorite.
but this was his breaking point. you had come to his apartment, once again in the middle of the night, talking about noah fucking miller cheating on you.
he had done it once before when he was 'out with the boys' you decided to stop by when he said he'd be back, wanting to just be the amazing girlfriend that you are. so when you walk in and hear your boyfriend moaning along with another woman that isn't you, you immediately run back out. you run back out and drive all the way to spencer's.  
and here you are again. spencer wasn't mad at you, it was noah he was mad at. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
spencer had always liked you, no, he's always loved you. everything about you. how could he not? you're perfect.
but loving you how he does and seeing you being used as a toy to fuck for a certain noah miller not only made his heart ache but also made his blood boil.
spencer wasn't an idiot. he had heard the way the old morgan had referred to women. the thing is, noah is way more of a fuckboy than the old morgan ever was. and that scared spencer to pieces. he knew that you would only be missing out on team outings just to get fucked by a douchebag. he knew that the only reason said douchebag wouldn't visit you was because you couldn't fuck. he knew that the reason said douchebag was cornering that intern was to fuck her, too.
so when you arrived at spencer's place, this time you weren't crying. you were furious. you were angry and upset, as was spencer.
"he did it again, spence," you breathed out as you paced across his living room floor. "i was supposed to meet him in a few hours but i was going to surprise him and i caught him with another tramp! i didn't even confront him. i just- i just left!"
"cheated? noah?" he asked as if he didn't believe it at first, not wanting to seem like as much of a dick as noah.
"yes! cheated. god! i am so ANGRY!" you ran your hand through your hair, a grunt leaving your mouth. "and... and frustrated! and... UGH!" you sighed aggressively.
"and what?" spencer asked as he stood up, slowly making his way to you. "what else?" he said, his hand now brushing that stubborn strand of hair behind your ear.
"i-i'm..." you trailed off, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.
if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit how much you loved spencer. but you thought he'd never love you like that. not since you helped him through jj getting married. he really thought she was it for him, at least that's what you'd come to think he believed. over the years you had grown so much closer and grown such an attraction for each other that the other person knew about. it was ironic, truly.
"say it, y/n," spencer leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours. "i need to hear you say it."
"god, just kiss me," you said, your hands flying to the back of his hair to push his mouth to yours.
there was no hesitation from spencer to give you everything he had. his hand on the side of your face remained there as his other hand drifted to your waist to pull you closer to his body. your tongues met fervently with covetous, passion, and longing yet with just gentle firmness that felt protecting and as if it was how everything was supposed to be.
"please, spencer," you quietly whispered once you unlatched from one another.
"please what, princess," he asked, his hand running through your hair.
"i just... i need you," she pleaded with him, her hands still tugging gently on his hair. "please," you put your foreheads together, breathing in each others air as you silently begged him to help you in any way that he could.
"i'd do anything for you," he whispered so delicately as if the entire team were standing right beside you. "you know i'd do anything for you."
"then do something," you demanded.
spencer took action by kissing you just as intensely as before, this time his hands went to your ass. he grabbed your thighs to signal for you to jump, once you did you wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you into his bedroom. he set you down just in front of the bed before you began to undo his shirt, him returning the favor by undoing yours.
"god, i've wanted you for so long," he growled, nipping gently at your earlobe as he laid you back on the bed. "lift your hips," he ordered, you obeyed his every command. you always would. "good girl," he praised as he ran his hands down your now bare waist.
"please," you begged, your hips bucking up to get any source of friction. "spencer..." you trailed off.
"i know, princess. i know," he said before climbing on top of you, connecting your lips with his once again, this time much more eager than before if that were possible.
as you arched your back, he took the opportunity to unclasp the hook on your bra. you shrugged it off your shoulders to allow him to throw the bra somewhere else in his room. he finally took a breath, removing his lips from yours to admire the view in front of him.
"god, you're so beautiful," he growled before placing gentle but eager kisses along the tops of your breasts, massaging the one his mouth wasn't on.
he pressed his knee between your legs, allowing you to buck your hips up to get that release you wanted so bad. you whined as he took your nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking past it rapidly as he occasionally nibbled on it gently.
"spen-spencer," you ran your hands through his hair, tugging gently on the roots.
"mmm," he sat his head up, trailed kisses up your throat. "god, i love you so much."
"i-i love you," you moaned, pulling his head up to connect your lips together. "i love you so so much."
"i'm so glad to hear that," he huffed a sigh of relief. "because otherwise it'd be awkward when i did this," he began trailing kisses down your body, leading down towards your center. "i'll show you what it's like to be with a man that actually loves and respects you, yea? show you what it feels like to actually be pleased by a man? what it's like to be with a real man?" he teased.
his fingers trailed around your entrance, gathering your arousal that'd been building for what felt like ages. he pressed gentle kisses around your pussy before finally connecting his lips with your clit, a low groan emitting from your body because of the contact.
"yes, please," you shot your head back, relishing in the feeling of the direct skin contact.
"hey," spencer slapped your thigh, your head shot back up to see him between your legs, a truly beautiful sight that you'd never get tired of. "eyes on me," he demanded before going back down on you, not breaking eye contact as he brought out sounds from you that you weren't even sure you could make. "talk to me, princess. let me know how it feels."
"fe-feels so good," you sighed, taking your breasts in your hands and massaging them. "i-i can-can't even think," you stuttered out, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.
you had felt so good as he sucked on your clit, succeeding in bringing you closer to the edge than noah ever has, but when he inserted two fingers into your entrance...
"oh my fuck!" your hands shot down to grab onto his locks, pushing him further into your body, a low groan leaving him.
his fingers didn't stop their work. he curled them at just the right spot, sending you flying over the edge. spencer used his free hand to grab onto your thigh to keep them from closing in completely on his head, still working you through your high. he placed a kiss on your clit once more before he brought his head up to you, connecting your lips passionately.
"could noah ever make you come like that? huh? could he make you feel so good you could barely even think?" he grabbed your chin in his hands, holding it in place to look at him as you shook your head the best you could. "no?"
"mm-mm," you tried to shake your head 'no' once more.
"did you think of him while i was going down on you? were you thinking about how he fucked that little tramp?" he asked harshly, you shook your head 'no' again. "oh, what were you thinking, princess?" he finally released your face so you could speak.
"ab-about how well you know my body. about how, how good you looked between my legs. about how much i love you," you replied quickly, knowing exactly what to say.
"right answer," he connected your lips once more. "what do you want, love?" he asked, peppering soft kisses along your jaw where his hands once held your throat firmly.
"you. i-i want you in-inside me," you swallowed, your hand finding his and pulling it up to your lips to press a kiss to it, then another, then another, then another. "please, doctor?" you used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist.
"god, call me that again," he rasped lowly.
"what... doctor?" you took his hand and started sucking on his fingers, letting them slip in and out slowly and then moving onto the next.
"fuck, yes," he growled as he pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up at your center. "are you sure, princess?" he traced your jaw with the fingers you were previously sucking on.
"yes, sir," you nodded. "i'm sure."
you felt him slowly push inside of you slowly to allow you to adjust to his size. you had your suspicions of how big he was, but feeling him inside of you made it all much more real.
"fuck, you're so tight," he moaned into your ear quietly as he slowly pulled back out, going in just as slow.
"sp-spence-"
"wrong," he slapped your face gently, a whimper leaving your lips before he grasped your face to make you look him in the eyes.
"doc-doctor," you corrected yourself.
"good girl," he said, feeling your pussy clench from the praise. "oh you like that?" he felt it again. "maybe you just like hearing me talk, yea?" his pace began picking up slowly. "you like hearing how this pussy makes me feel? how tight... and warm... and wet it is?"
"u--uh huh," you nodded your head the best you could as he began thrusting much more rapid, hitting that special spot inside of you with each movement.
"it seems like you haven't felt this good in a long time huh? haven't had your pussy pounded like this in a while?" he asked as he was catching his breath.
"ne-never, doctor," you confirmed, hands reaching around his back and dragging your nails down, surely leaving scratch marks all down them.
"fuck," he growled. "noah never made you feel this good princess? never made you forget how to speak in sentences? never knew how to get you going like this?"
"n-no, no! never! god, never!" you cried as you pulled his body even closer to you. "i-i'm close, please!"
"you wanna come all over my dick, yea? you want to show me how much your pussy loves it when a real man fucks it?"
that was it to let that spring burst inside of you, parts flying everywhere. you cried his name as he worked you through your orgasm, holding onto his shoulders and hair to keep you grounded.
"cum inside me, please," you begged. "fi-fill me up."
"fuck, whatever you want, princess," he kept pounding into you at a rapid pace. "god, i'm gonna come inside you, and send you back to that scumbag of a boyfriend so he can see that you're mine now. so he can see what happens when his girlfriend is mistreated and fucked by someone who knows what they're doing, yea?"
"yea, yea!" you whined, nails digging back into his skin as he released his load into you, thrusting it gently back inside after.
"god, i love you so much," he moaned into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek by your ear.
"i love you," you replied, stroking his hair to help him come down, him still inside of you. he began thrusting inside of you once again.
"don't want any of it to spill out before you get to him," he felt you clench around him one more time. "you're very responsive, princess. i like that about you."
"it-it's just you, spence. it's always been you," you pulled him in for another kiss.
this one was full of passion but not the kind of eagerness. it was full of desire and longing, pent up emotions flowing out into one another fluidly.
"now let me go see my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend," you huffed as he pulled out of you, wincing from the overstimulation. "i'll see you later?"
"i'll see you later," he pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you gather your clothes.
driving back to his apartment, you felt rather giddy with yourself. should you have felt bad? absolutely not. he's a manipulative asshole who's used you for sex on numerous occasions, so he deserved the bittersweet irony of what was coming to him.
*get it, coming to him? lol i'm sorry i had to :)*
you knocked on the door softly, greeted by a rather chipper noah who grabbed your face as soon as he saw you, connecting your lips. his kiss was nothing like spencer's. his lips weren't as soft and tentative. they weren't plump and round, they were harsh and rough and unpleasant.
he quickly led you to the bedroom, not to your surprise. he sat down on the bed, you straddled his hips, acting as if it were spencer instead - which was pretty hard to do after knowing what he was like in the sack.
you felt his boner through his pants quickly after you got on top of him. then when he flipped you over and pulled your pants and underwear down, he was met with a surprise.
"someone's excited to see me," he chuckled before licking a thick stripe from your slit to clit, very aggressive to where it almost hurt to have the pressure. "god you taste so good, doll."
he continued at this for a while, inserting his tongue to your hole very once in a while and licking up yours and spencer's arousal with it. you faked your moans and whimpers as his ministrations became more eager, not really getting you anywhere.
after he was finished with your turn - no, he didn't even make you cum - he laid back on the bed as if he were waiting for you to get on top of him again.
"actually," you stood up from the bed, pulling up your clothes with you. "i'm done with this. we're over."
you watched his face as he took in the information just released to him. it changed from surprised and shocked, to confused, to disgusted, to angry and frustrated.
"what the fuck?" he sat up from the bed, a disgruntled look on his face. "you wait until after you cum to tell me this?" he walked over to you, arms flailing in the air.
"yea. i did. and by the way, i didn't cum," you informed him. "that's something you've never really been good at making me do. although i'm not sure how you've been able to convince me to do anything with the way you treat me."
"what do you mean? i'm a good gu-"
"shut up for one second, please," you rolled your eyes, running your hand through your hair. "i know you've cheated on me numerable times. i stayed because i thought that maybe there was a reason, but i've come to realize that i was just... settling with you," you shrugged.
"you've treated me like crap since this 'relationship' started and i'm tired of it. i know someone who not only treats me with respect and kindness, but can also actually make me cum. shocker," you chuckled.
"who is this asshole? what the hell-"
"i wasn't finished, sweetie," you spat out viciously. "he's not an asshole. you're the asshole. you're the one that's getting dumped. so this is goodbye," you turned around to walk out of his room before leaving him with one more thought. "how did his cum taste with mine?" you tilted your head innocently, smiling at his shocked face as he realized what you meant before walking out.
and you were never more glad that you didn't have to go back to him anymore.
taglist:
@muffin-cup​ @greenprisca​ @averyhotchner​ 
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silkylious · 3 years
Text
“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.” (Lucifer x Reader)
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fandom: obey me! shall we date?
pairing: lucifer x gn reader
warnings: angst, fluff (mildly lol), suggestive (nothing explicit though!), bittersweet, ambiguous ending (??), unedited 
wc: 2.1k
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“Lucifer?” you called out to him on a whim, eyes trailing the seconds ticking away on his grandfather-clock.
“Yes?” he didn’t spare you a glance as he worked methodically through his second hill of paperwork; a heaping stack of duties assigned to him by Diavolo, endless bills–a consequence of Mammon’s latest spending spree, you ought to talk to him about those soon–and the sort piled neatly on his pristine desk, slowly but surely decreasing in size as Lucifer burned through the tedious task with unwavering efficiency. You felt exhausted just watching him work. Lucifer? He hadn’t so much as blinked more than three times in the past five minutes (yes, you counted). Obsidian sleeves rolled up just past his elbows, hair perfectly framing his face with one strand slightly out of place–hot–and a gentle crease between his brows (the only observable hint alluding to the mounting stress on his shoulders). He looked positively delectable, nothing like someone who’s been working diligently for hours without any breaks. But that just served as a testament to the fundamental difference between the two of you, you supposed.
“I’m in love with you,”
That made his meticulous fingers pause in their tracks.
“Pardon?”
As it turned out, his ears hadn’t, in fact, deceived him. You repeated the confession as if it weighed nothing on your tongue. You were strangely calm given the words you’d just blurted out; he almost didn’t recognize you. An unfamiliar shade of desperation painted all over your face, and yet your voice bared to him a serene conviction, one he’d never heard from you before. Lucifer’s heartbeat stumbled in your wake.
Basking in your courageous display just a second longer, he sighed. Too bad he’d have to mutilate such a pretty sight so soon.
That didn’t go exactly as he’d planned. The harsh rejection barely deterred you, leaving only a petulant pout on your lips and a promise that you’d come talk to him later.
Lucifer was anything but stupid. He knew that he let things stray too far between you, knew it was his fault for not pulling away from your kisses and instead indulging you (and himself) to the fullest. His fault for ignoring the guilt that settled deep in his gut like hunks of steel when you looked at him like he’d never experienced before. Lucifer had lived for many millennia, had relished the warmth of countless passionate lovers and faceless hookups, none of which had ever set him alight from the inside out like your adoring gaze had. It terrified him how after all these years, watching humans thrive and collapse over and over again, he thought he’d seen everything there is to see, all that humans had to offer. And then you come along, reinventing what love meant right before his eyes, with a simple look no less.
He never intended for you to fall in love with him, and he never intended to reciprocate. Had he been mortal, maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated. But life dealt a cruel hand, and he wasn’t. A relationship like yours was doomed to crumble in heartache from the start, it was best to stop it before things went too far. That was the plan anyway.
You didn’t share the same sentiment.
With one last exasperated sigh, Lucifer focused his attention back on his duties. He didn’t know how long he could hold up against your persistence, and honestly he preferred not to dwell on it. Whatever outcome lied for the both of you in the near future, itching one step closer with each tick on the clock, he’d face it head on when it was time.
Meanwhile, you laid wide awake, in your bed, rethinking every decision that led you here. You didn’t regret your confession, nor were you keen on giving up, but Lucifer’s ruthless rejection, his vehement claim that a relationship between a human and a demon is destined to end in tragedy festered a bud of doubt in you. You noted pettily that he hadn’t outright denied any feelings for you. How could he? Lucifer was many, ugly things but a liar’s not one of them; you wouldn’t believe him even if he did lie, not with how delicately he holds your hand in his gloved one, not with how heartbreakingly beautiful he was when he lets you in at his lowest, stripped completely of his pride.
You knew though, that as much as Lucifer was a creature of the past, he was a creature of regrets.
Somehow, you’d managed to reach the heart of the Avatar of Pride himself, bestowing a porcelain touch on it and subsequently rocking the monotony of his endless life. Despite the acknowledgment of both your feelings, you weren’t naïve enough to dismiss how his heart drums thousands of years apart from yours and would continue to do so long after yours gave its last valiant pump.
He was a creature of the past you realized; humans intently watch minutes, hours, years approach because there’s only so much of them live out, there’s only so much to do in a lifetime. Naturally it would be counterintuitive to waste scarce time on the past. The immortal have no such concern. When time is limitless, and life is all but a blur of recycled events, its only instinctive to lose interest in what’s to come. And you guessed, maybe there was a strange comfort in the predictability of eternity, maybe that’s why Lucifer was so offput by the notion of something serious yet temporary, especially romance.
You decided. You wouldn’t let him look back and ponder what ifs in that stubborn head of his, not while you were still breathing. With regained determination, you glanced one last time at your countertop alarm and entered a dreamless slumber.
Not even two days later, three consecutive raps on his door made Lucifer rub at his temples for the nth time and begrudgingly called for you to enter. Piled on his desk were several stacks of papers (as was the usual), though, that night he was in a particularly sour mood. Ever since your confession, he’d been feeling uneasy, Diavolo hurling more work at him last minute was only pushing him to his wit’s end.
“Lucifer,” he hummed in response, not bothering to conceal his growing agitation. “we need to talk,”
Ah, there it was. He was wondering when you’d confront him again.
“I believe I made myself quite clear last time,” he sighed, dropping his pen and finally meeting your eyes. “If this is about your feelings again then I’m sorry but I can’t–”
“But why? Can you really say that what we have isn’t special at all?” your lower lip quivered just a bit and Lucifer had to fight the immediate reflex of holding you close and hushing your worries. His impassiveness quickly arose frustration out of you. “God Damnit, Lucifer! All I want is to be with you while I still can! To die with no regrets, knowing you’ll be there with me, but it’s very fucking hard to do that when you’re too scared of the future to do something about–about us!”
It was a low blow to go after his pride, you knew that, but he wasn’t giving you much to work with.. Rubbing salt in a ghastly wound had certainly done the trick, the dimmed crimson that pooled just below his pupil began to shine scarlet. You would have found it gorgeous had it not been imbued with near murderous intent. Lucifer’s poker face was rapidly breaking, a horrid mix of anger and melancholy sat heavy in his throat. He was looking straight at you, but his eyes were somewhere else, some time else. He was staring hundreds of years behind you at an unhealed, poorly bandaged cut. An everlasting guilt he carried with him everywhere.
“What would you know about regret?” he breathed out the words like they’re bullets, whatever restraint he’d managed to scarp together deteriorating. He stepped closer, each stride bigger than the last as he closed the distance between you, a perfect diamond manifesting on his forehead and you could see the beginnings of black feathers sprouting from his back. “Do you have the slightest clue what a blessing mortality is? Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to live with your regrets and not be able to die with them?”
“You’re right. I don’t,” you stood your ground. “But, do you really want to live with one more regret to bear?”
He kissed you. He kissed you like he hated you, animosity and anger and pain and, most prominently, pining spilling from his lips. Lucifer parted from you just as quickly as he’d initiated the kiss, taking the time to let his irritation bleed out of him, until he was left grappling with (frankly terrifying) longing and adoration. Just this once, he’d take a leap of faith, he’d break his own rigorous code and take the risk of undying heartache in the future to be with you in the now.
One kiss turned into many, and soon you found yourselves stumbling your way from his office to his bedroom. He couldn’t get enough of you, the thought that some day he would be deprived of you broke him and made him yearn to cherish you just as much. Precious things aren’t meant for longevity, he learned. All the more reason to treasure them when given the chance. You were pushed onto his bed and not once did his hands and mouth and breath leave your skin; he couldn’t bear sever that connection.
Before long, your hands were pined to the mattress, fingers tightly laced with his as if he was petrified the moment will break and a thousand years would pass you by the instant he let go.
“I love you. Truly and deeply.”
Neither of you heard the clock strike midnight.
Lucifer was well-acquainted with sleepless nights. He was no stranger to the prick at the corner of his eye, excruciatingly familiar with midnight’s cold, lonely touch. But this one was different. Where usually lied a cool emptiness in his sheets, your warm, inviting body was just in reach. Where the corners of his mind were usually plagued by past mistakes and sorrowful repentance, you were all he could think about. He reflected on your words now that the high of emotions had worn off. He still disagreed with you on many things and, if he was being true to himself, it would take more than one night to abandon his reluctance, much more. But he was willing to put in his fair share of effort. He was willing to do many things for you, he mused. You were right about one thing though, regardless of whether or not he acted on his feelings, your parting would hurt all the same. Part of him was still resentful that he let himself fall so deeply in love with you, and a part of him knew it couldn’t be helped. You’d carved a home for yourself out of his heart, invited yourself in and declared pompously you’d be there to stay, and he’d be damned to hell all over again if he said he didn’t like that.
Pulling you closer to leech off your warmth, for the first time in forever, he dreamt of the future, a future with you.
Snapping out his reverie, Lucifer refocused his vision on the framed picture before him. It’s been a couple dozen years, the pain dulled into a hollow longing, and yet not a single regret weighed on his back. He was astonished, how you, who had lived but a fraction of his own lifetime, had such impeccable foresight. He lays in bed every night and morning thanking you for not giving up, knowing that if you had, he’d be spending the rest of his infinite days in self-loathing regret.
All Lucifer could ask for now is a little guidance. What was he to do now? Was he even capable of falling in love again after you? Would he allow it? All questions that began frequenting his head since you’re no longer there to occupy it. He only knew is that he’d love you, and love you, and love you until this world fell apart. He toyed with the idea of reincarnation. It certainly wasn’t out of the realm of possibility; he saw you in everything he did. Strange how you’d taught him more about appreciating every day’s mundanities than he had in the many eons he’s been alive. Lucifer wonders about the possibility of you donning the same white wings he once had back in the Celestial Realm. If you ever did, he wonders about the complications that would arise from that, he wonders if you’d even remember him. All Lucifer was left with was a simple truth. If you ever came back, whichever form you may take, he’d welcome you back into the adobe of his heart without a second thought.
He ran his thumb over your smile, a bittersweet acceptance in his own.
“I love you. Truly, deeply, eternally.”
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Obey me! taglist: @katsucookie @strwbry-m1lk​ (you wanted to be tagged in this one lol) join my taglist here! <3
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xiaohitsdifferent · 3 years
Text
lament
pairing: albedo x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
word count: 920
warning(s): attempted self-harm, mentions of past self-harm, depression
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it hadn’t been too long since you’ve moved to monstadt, the nation renowned for its freedom. the atmosphere was welcoming and there was always an amusing event occurring. it was practically impossible to feel lonely. everything was going great, but there were still days where you were haunted by your past.
today happened to be one of those days.
the curtains adorning your glossy window was drawn, preventing the rays of sunshine to spill through. the air was eerily tense, the lights were turned off and you were bundled in a heap of blankets.
you never understood the conflicting emotions that was buried deep within you. you’ve tried everything to distract the feeling, from slicing the tender skin on your arms to burning your arms until a scathing burn mark was present. it worked, but it was only a temporary solution.
fortunately, you’ve stopped this habit after befriending the members from the knights of favonius. they were so kind to you and they brought in a feeling of haven. it wasn’t too long before you found your eyes focused on one person: albedo. you’d be lying if you were to say you weren’t smitten by the peculiar chief alchemist. he was just so diligent in every matter.
...but what chances did you have with him?
he was better fit with someone like sucrose, his beloved student. you didn’t deserve him. you didn’t deserve all the friends you’ve made. you didn’t deserve any of the happiness you had at the moment.
you don’t deserve anything. you’re useless. so useless. what makes you think you deserve happiness? just die already.
before you knew it, your body was shivering despite the warmth that the blankets provided. “you’re right.” you mumbled, shaky legs making its way towards your desk. the blade. you had to get the blade. you had to soothe the feeling.
when you approached your desk, you wasted no time in snatching the sharp razor from its place and positioning it on your right arm. salty tears fell from your eyes and you were trembling all over the place. sweat glands were starting to form as you inch the razor closer to your skin. some part of you was begging for you to stop, but the other had a stronger voice. it urged you to start your habit again.
no one can stop you. you must do it. no one can save you. you’re so worthless. just end it all right now. it’ll be easier that way. go ahead and-
a sudden gloved hand tightly held onto your very own. you yelp in surprise, grip loosening on the razor, causing it to fall towards the ground. a soft clank resounded from it. who had stopped you?
your watery, wide eyes clash with familiar turquoise ones and the world seem to freeze altogether. “albedo? how... how did you get in here?”
“i came to check up on you and the door was unlocked. i thought that something urgent had happen to you.” a deep frown was present upon the usual stoic face of your savior. you dare say he even looked worried for you.
your breath hitched, adrenaline wearing off, and you felt a feeling of shame washing over you. how were you supposed to explain this situation to him? it was too late to make any excuse, he had witness far too much now.
“tell me, how long have you been doing this?” he gestured to the multitude of scars, ranging from thin to downright deep, littering your arm. it was quite evident that these scars were achieved through a controlled precision rather than from accident. you couldn’t lie.
you gulped down a ball of anxiety, eyes faltering and avoiding the hardened gaze of albedo. “a few years now, but i swear i’ve been clean for several months already!” it was true. you hadn’t been harming yourself for a while, but at this point, it wouldn’t matter if you even said that because you had almost broken that record today.
“...why?” his question came out weak and pitiful, taking you by surprise yet again. his fingers caress your marred arm, a pleasant feeling spread from his careful touch and you couldn’t help, but lean closer, the tension long forgotten.
“i was lost for a while and i didn’t know how else to cope.”
“why didn’t you seek help from the knights? or even from me?” his hand move unsteadily away from you and you could sense the frustration from his tone, “i admit, i’m not well-verse with human emotions, but i’d try... for you.”
a pinkish blush settle upon the apples of your cheek. was he admitting that he cared for you more than you had thought? the weight of shame was getting heavier and you bit on your lips nervously, “i... appreciate that.”
“if you truly do, then please,” he pulled you into his lean chest, arms protectively encircling your petite form, “don’t shut me out. i will do my utmost to help you. i care about you. genuinely.”
never once have you ever imagine that the alchemist would break face and show any emotion towards you. frankly, it was too much for you to handle.
without warning, all the feelings you felt came flooding out. you desperately clutch onto the back of his pristine, white coat, face burying in the safety of his shoulder as you cried to your heart’s content.
perhaps there is a light of hope beyond the dark place you’ve been stuck in for far too long.
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yanderedbdimagines · 3 years
Text
Part 1 - Part 2
The Trapper
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The Entity knows…
Everyone grew a consciousness, most of them not knowing of what to do with it other than to keep sticking to their purpose to which they were programmed to follow from the very beginning.
You could say that Dead by Daylight currently lives and exists because of you, although in a very underdeveloped state.
And the possible risk of everything to disappear from the moment that you die is just too great of a defrayal. Therefore, for you to be *sacrificed* is absolutely out of the question.
But in order to keep the game as it currently is- healthy, functioning, self-aware and breathing with new-found life; the Entity feels hell-bound to keep you in a similar condition.  
Days have already passed, you see. From day one, the moment you actually went up and moved from the campfire after escaping the Trapper, the dark power had led you straight into an empty arena containing many items and resources for you to survive and to live rather comfortably from.
Of course, not an hour goes by without you trying to find a way out. The two times you did manage to do so, you were unknowingly forced to make a loop through the mist and straight back into the arena.
Perhaps you long to return to the real world. The place you were born and raised. Yet it doesn’t want you to go. It can’t let you go. This is your home now. Your purpose is here. You wouldn’t have ended up within the game if that wasn’t the case.
And then an idea pops up… Companionship… A survivor always needs one…
And then an added fact.
The Trapper…
Ever since the masked slasher has crossed paths with you, his loyalty towards the Entity has diminished almost completely within the very short span of just a few days. Currently, he’s unruly and unpredictable as he doesn’t sacrifice his victims at all anymore, preferring to kill them upright instead.  
And by listening to the beat of a black heart and sensing for the sparks traveling through a twisted brain does the mighty being understand why one of its most loyal of servants acts the way he does now.  
The bond between you and him is stronger than that of anyone else’s, no matter from what state of mind you approach the matter. Even the bond between the god-like entity and the slasher isn’t nearly as… intertwined. The entity knows which emotion is the culprit of this very fact. Love. Or at least, a rather deformed and more extreme form of it. It had already started to bud and blossom to what it is now from the very first day you played as him and against him through your computer/console.
Perhaps, it’d be a good idea to reach out to the killer and tell him what one of his new tasks is from here on out. One which doesn’t only benefit the Entity, but most definitely the Trapper as well. The new question now, however, is how well you’ll adjust to it and if you will accept the new situation once it sets its plan into action. Accept, and you’ll have a happy life ahead of you. Reject, and the Entity will force you to decide otherwise…    
You feel frustrated. Absolutely frustrated. And not just because of the ever present darkness that’s watching you from above.
Even after these few days, you still don’t know where you are. The modest house which desperately needs a fresh coat of paint, murky pond, old and slanting shed, overgrown garden and the bit of unmaintained farmlands at the side do not look familiar to you at all.
In fact, the entirety of the map is utmost unknown to you, and it looks a tad bit better than most areas within Dead by Daylight. Almost as well-kept as Haddonfield, so to speak, just by the fact that you have a working kitchen and a warm water bathtub within that old-fashioned house…
The few hints through which you could tell that you’re still stuck in this specific game is that the night is endless within this universe- the moon forever stuck at its peak, and every time you found a way past the walled border of the area, you’d somehow end up right back at the spot where you’d previously slipped through from. It didn’t take long for you to figure out why.
You brush your fingertips alongside the cold metal bars that make up the Arena’s main gates. Then, you withdraw your hand just as quickly as black spikes suddenly spawn from the place you’ve just touched. The Entity is currently pretty desperate to keep you inside the premises, especially from the moment you’d nearly escaped a third time.
You scowl, kick the gates in a pent of aggression and retreat back into the house with a hand skimming through your hair. This is not going as planned and your emotions are reaching an all-time low. As far as you can see it, there’s not a single chance of escaping, your family might as well have called the national news for how long you may have been missing and you don’t have a single clue of what the Entity has in store for you with the way it has been treating you from the moment you had escaped your first and only trial. You’re basically a bird stuck in an impoverished golden cage.  
You proceed to drag your feet upstairs after a quick raid of the kitchen’s cabinets before retreating inside of your bedroom. In the meantime, reading a book might stimulate some ideas for a future escape attempt and to give you some time to reflect for the ones that have failed in the past. It might also help you to calm down for a bit in order to tackle the problem with an overall better state of mind.
But before you could actually grab a book from the over stacked bookshelf besides the window, you incidentally saw something move from behind the window and look down to see a tall shadow stir to the right from behind the fenced border which is being overshadowed by the shed. And when you finally see it stalk into the moonlight, you felt as if the ground gave out from underneath you.  
It’s the Trapper… Weaponless?
You quickly duck below the windowsill with a hand already clenched over your heaving chest.
Why is he here? Does he know that you’re here? Did the Entity send him? Is he here to kill you with his bare hands? Is this the start of some sort of a trial? Has he seen you standing here?
There are so many questions rumbling through your brain with not a single clear answer to pin them to. And frankly, you don’t plan to hang around to see them answered on their own, either.
You quickly decide to dart out of the room whilst making sure to close the door behind you, before moving over to the room located at the other side. There, you also make sure to close the door before leaping towards the window.
After another survey of the outside world, you decide that the coast’s clear and carefully slide the glass panel upward as quietly as you possibly could.
As you did so, you heard the front door open with a soft groan, indicating that the killer hasn’t only succeeded in entering the premises, but to enter this damned house as well.
You climb through the window and firmly place your feet between the slippery vines and tested your footing before starting your climb downward.  
A sudden bang can be heard, and then another. He must have checked your bedroom, like you’ve suspected, and must have shut the door in irritation before slamming open the door of another room next to it.
It didn’t take long before yet another door was thrown open against a wall and heavy footsteps could be heard from above the second you’ve reached solid ground.  
A chill prickles your neck and causes goosebumps to appear all over your skin, automatically forcing you to look upward.
Your eyes widen and your breathing stops for a millisecond as you do so.
The Trapper grinning mask’s staring at you from above, breathing heavily. If it’s due to him running around the house or him being irritated with you(the later most likely), you truly  do not know. Maybe a combination of both, for all you care.
You move and point your body towards the direction of the main gates, waiting for him to move away from the window since it’s almost guaranteed that he won’t climb down the vines himself due to his weight. Maybe he’ll fall for your trick, and move towards the gates as quickly as he can in order to cut you off. He did just that and you quickly spun around and run towards the back of the building instead.
You already know he’s a sharp killer. The only question is, will he round the house from the right or from the left once he understands what you’re actually trying to do? The fact that you’re also trying to bluff him as if there’s another way out of the premises? Maybe he’ll cut straight through the building?
‘Wait… Damn it! Of course the backdoor isn’t locked! I didn’t expect a killer to stroll around here anytime soon!’ you remember, and quickly decide to move your point of destination towards the shed instead.
You need to move quickly before he truly does burst through the backdoor and throw himself onto you.
You stick to the wall, take a peek around the corner and confirm that he isn’t there. As a hasty distraction, you pull open the backdoor- making sure that quite a bit of noise is made before you dash straight into the shed.
Once at the front you take another look through a split in the wooden wall. He’s not at the main gates, and more importantly, the gates are gaped wide open…
But what if it’s a trap?
You could wait and observe for a little while longer before actually trying your luck… Yet you cou-
Your thought of process falls silent as heavy footfalls abruptly thunder into earshot. You turn around, only to see no one in sight, but heave out a surprised gasp instead when the shed’s rickety doors suddenly burst open and something big flies straight towards you.
Before you knew what was actually going on, you were quickly pinned against the wooden wall by a warm, big and rough-skinned hand coiled firmly around your upper arm.
You try to break free from him, but the more you struggle, the tighter his grip would be until the point it actually is starting to hurt. As result, you seize your attempt of wriggling yourself out of his iron grip before dropping your head in defeat- feeling utterly useless in your current situation.
Eventually, he slowly and reluctantly lets you go and takes a step back in order to allow you some breathing space, but still remains close enough if he’d be forced to grab you again if you’d decide to try and make a run for it.
After a moment, you finally dare to speak, fear obviously affecting your vocal cords; “W-Why… are you here…?” you ask him with a shaky voice. You can already guess the answer, considering his current behavior, but you need to hear it from him as confirmation.
He replies with a voice so dark and raspy that it forces a shiver to creep down your spine; “To keep you from running away any longer. Entity’s orders…”
Figures…
You take in a deep and shaky breath, sadly doing little to calm your fear before taking a tiny step to the right. Just so he won’t get the wrong idea, you ask him to follow you before leaving the shed, the tall man following close behind.  
Many thoughts, mainly complaints, race through your head like a herd of out-of-control horses, but you won’t ever voice them out. You can’t voice them out, let alone to the slasher currently following you. The fact that the Entity decided to basically stall him with you already says a thousand words. And you hate it…
Of course, you don’t know how dependent this game’s Entity is with feeding on the mismatched hope of survivors. Before you know it, it might need you more than it needs them, in a sense.
You suddenly turn your gaze towards the man walking behind you, only to quickly turn away with your heart jumping in your chest as you noticed how close he is to you now. Still, you also saw enough of his posture and recollected enough of his behavior before all this to see what he’s approximately thinking right now.
In his own way, he seems to be attached to you in a way you never expected to happen at all. A character of a video game who’s smitten with you… A killer from Dead by Daylight… You would have laughed hysterically if someone ever told you that this would happen to you- deeming them crazy.
Your shoulders quake as a shiver runs up your spine. A shiver of fear and disgust.
You turn to him again after you suddenly heard a low grumble resonating from the giant behind you, springing away from him.
He seems overstrung and strangely out of place as your eyes land on him. He’s sensed that you’re feeling very uncomfortable in his presence.
Your eyes are wide for a second, surprised with his observation and the way he’s giving you your space as result. You then frown at him. Not out of irritation. At least, not entirely, but more so out of empathy. “I’m sorry,” is all you could whisper after a minute of silence, not even knowing yourself what you’re exactly apologizing for. For your feelings? For his? For the situation as a whole?
Of course, he seems to know you much better than he obviously seems to let on. Also, Meg did know your name without the two of you ever meeting each other before face to face during that trial. Does this mean that all of them were able to watch you in a similar way you were watching them while you played? The Trapper included?
You swallow as you turn yourself away from him before stepping into the house.
Either way, you don’t know if the survivors, the Observer or anyone else out there could ever save you from your peculiar situation. Perhaps all you can do in the meantime is to try and make the best out of it while searching for a way out... A quest now all the more difficult now that you have a love-sick killer as your unwanted bodyguard…
154 notes · View notes
moxfirefly · 3 years
Note
Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!
As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.
TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments
Rated Explicit (18+ only)
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His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.
Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.
But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.
But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.
It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.
Surrounded by normalcy.
And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...
But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.
His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.
And fuck, three months of you away?!
Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.
Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?
He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!
It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.
He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.
Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.
It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.
You’re there.
Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.
“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.
“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?
“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?
He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.
You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.
Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.
“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.
“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.
“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.
Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.
Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.
He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.
There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.
He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.
The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.
You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.
So you do.
Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.
That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.
You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.
Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.
You say it too, against his skin.
Where you wish you could stay everyday.
327 notes · View notes
hypmicdaydreams · 3 years
Note
Can I ask for some angst? Sasara, Samatoki and Ichiro reactions when their s/o is brainwashed for Chuuoku a la Nemu and becomes hostile towards the boys?
Hey hey anon! Needless to say, this one did hurt to write, but I do love the idea so much. I do love me some good ol' angst at times haha. Thank you sm for the request and hope you enjoy 💕
𝗜𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗼, 𝗦𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗸𝗶, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗮𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗮 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝘀/𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗖𝗵𝘂𝗼𝗵𝗸𝘂
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-pairings: ichiro yamada x gn!reader, samatoki aohitsugi x gn!reader, sasara nurude x gn!reader
-genre: angst
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Ichiro
he immediately notices your shift in demeanor when ichiro visits you the next time, realizing that there were something off about your gaze
you looked so...emotionless, similar to a robot obeying commands. those weren’t your lovestruck eyes that he was used to, the ones filled with endless love and warmth. you looked dead
it was baffling to say the least. he had absolutely no idea what had happened to cause you to snap like that
“babe, are you alright?”
well, he certainly wasn’t expecting you to glare daggers at him. at that moment, ichiro’s mind was racing as he tried to remember if he had unintentionally done anything to hurt you, though he couldn’t recall anything of that sort
so he decides to ask you once more, hoping this time that he’d get a response, though he’d come to regret that
“get lost. i don’t want to see you anymore.”
...what?
immediately, memories from his past fight with kuko resurfaced, taking note of how eerily similar this entire situation was to that. it was playing out word-by-word, right down to the exact emotions he felt: fear coupled with anxiety and nausea
he tried to not get too emotional, tried to hold himself back and take control of the situation, tried to reason with you and calm you down, but you were having none of it
when you walked away, however, shutting the door in his face, he felt defeated. he wasn’t able to talk you out of it. this was a genuine break up, and ichiro didn’t really know how to process it
he knew that what he saw wasn’t the real you, wasn’t the sweet and loving you who loved to pepper him with kisses or tease him. what he saw was an imposter, but he couldn’t do anything about it
no one knew about what had happened; rather, they assumed that the two of you broke up, which was technically the truth in some aspect. nothing his brothers did to try and cheer him up worked however
he did eventually move on from you, though that wouldn’t be after a long time. ichiro had loved you with everything he had, right down to the smallest cell in his body, and it hurt to see you walk away so easily, as if it all meant absolutely nothing to you
the next time he saw you was during the rap battles, and needless to say, he’s surprised when he spotted you adorned in chuohku’s uniform, which made his stomach churn
you had chosen chuohku, and even if ichiro thought he had gotten over you, he felt all those emotions come flooding in again once he saw you standing at the gate
he desperately wanted to go up to you and try to reconcile things, but he knew that it was simply much too late
you decided on chuohku, and even if ichiro absolutely despised that, it was your decision
ichiro really hated to see you so broken, and it was gut wrenching to say the least when he took note of how dead your eyes were
even if you were sad, even if you felt as if the world around you was ending, ichiro felt as if that was better than what had happened to you now. at the very least, the former you had emotion, and he had no doubt that he could help you through it
but now, it kinda felt hopeless, as much as he hated to admit. you were nothing but a shell of your former self, so how could he help you feel better when you couldn’t feel at all?
Samatoki
he feels the tension in the air the moment you walk into his office, and samatoki isn’t exactly sure why you seemed off at that moment
though, his instincts were telling him to prepare for the worst. this was likely to be one hell of an interaction
“huh? what’s the matter with you? did someone hurt you?”
at that moment, samatoki felt himself fill with rage at the thought of someone having dare lay a hand on you. if that was the problem, then he really wouldn’t even hesitate to kick the guy’s ass
“i’ve only come to tell you that i don’t want to see you anymore. you’re a pain”
upon your last word, this man is immediately on fight or flight mode. there was absolutely no way that this was you; it simply couldn’t be. the entire time the two of you were together, not once did you sound or look this heartless
he’s right by your side, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you (rather aggressively might i add) as if that’d help snap you out of your stupor
“y/n, what the hell is up with you?! cut the bullshit”
samatoki didn’t believe one bit of what you were saying. for one, the you he knew would never speak like that, not so cold anyway. secondly, your entire mannerisms were off. there was no way in hell that you even knew what you were saying
but when you reiterate that you’re serious, pushing him off of you, samatoki’s temper gets the better of him, and he immediately switches to defensive mode
he’s already lost quite a few people he loved in his life, and samatoki wasn’t about to add another one to that list
you were much too important for him to simply let you go. you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time, and samatoki would be damned if he let you walk out that door
he bickers with you for quite a while, his voice getting a bit higher each time. it’s not like samatoki had meant to yell at you, though; his temper and anxiety was merely getting the best of him at that moment
but he knew that he had lost the moment you stated that you were joining chuuoku. this entire situation was the exact same as with nemu a few years prior. he couldn’t stop her then, and samatoki knew that there was no way he could stop you now
the moment you walk out that door, samatoki feels powerless and quite frustrated, taking out his anger by punching objects that were in his way. he had stupidly believed that things were looking up with you, with the situation with nemu, with everything, but he was dead wrong
at that moment, samatoki swears that he’ll get you back
(quite frankly, he still didn’t believe that was you that he had talked to)
his teammates have no idea what had happened given that samatoki doesn’t really outwardly show it, though they do have a hint of an idea based off of his heartbroken and angry gaze he had every time you were mentioned
the next time he meets you, it felt as if the world was laughing at him. not only had samatoki spotted you in chuohku, but you were alongside his beloved sister as well, and he couldn’t even run up to the two of you and drag you both home (his teammates somehow managed to hold him back)
he hadn’t the faintest clue of what had happened to make you flip so quick, but all samatoki knew was that he was never going to give up on you
make no mistake, he will bring both you and nemu back home, no matter what it cost
Sasara
he couldn’t quite lay his finger on it, but sasara could sense that something was off about you the moment you came to his apartment
well, his instincts were telling him that, but sasara didn’t listen to that at all. instead, he decided to brush it off and treated it as if it was another normal day
but then the bombshell dropped
in a blank and rather aggressive tone, you casually mentioned how you never wanted to see him again, and you had simply dropped by to let him know that
at first, sasara really couldn’t believe what he was hearing. surely he must’ve misheard you, right? there was no way you actually felt that way, at least, not that he knew of
“aww come on y/n, you know a joke must have a punchline.”
didn’t really take it seriously at first, though it was more like sasara didn’t have the heart to confront it, so he did what he was best at: distract with jokes
it was always effective, but not so much this time
needless to say, he’s pretty much speechless when you repeat it, this time your tone practically dripping with poison. sasara had no idea what had gotten into you or what had happened for you to be so cold
you were always so sweet and loving to him, cracking jokes left and right as well as playing along with his shenanigans. there was never a dull moment with you
but now, everything was falling apart. had you always felt this way? did you simply hate him but simply put up with it? was his love really one sided this entire time? sasara began to doubt your guys’ entire relationship
sure, there was no possible way that the person standing in front of him was you, but sasara also didn’t know what had happened. perhaps a person or an event made you feel this way towards him, but with no way of knowing, he assumed that this was how you truly felt
even though you seemed more robotic than usual, even though there was not a single hint of emotion in your eyes, sasara took your words to heart
and he really did want to try and change your mind, to try and reconcile with you, but anytime he uttered a single word, you were at his throat. you didn’t seem to want to try and understand
sasara really wasn’t too keen on fighting. it was such a horrible feeling and brought up a few memories that he’d rather have buried away. he’d rather not hurt both you and himself, even if it was all accidental
arguments never got anywhere, and there seemed to be nothing that could change your mind, so all sasara could do was stand and watch as you walked away. it was your decision after all, and he had no choice but to accept
sasara fell into a bit of a depression right after, always catching himself thinking of you and wishing that things hadn’t turned out this way
nothing seemed to make him happy anymore, not even his favorite comedy shows or drinks. even if he didn’t outwardly show it, it was pretty clear to everyone that knew him well that sasara was indeed hurting
eventually, he did move on, but there was a scar on his heart that’d never heal
when he saw you at chuohku, wearing the same blank expression as before and dressed up in their uniform, his first thought was that he was grateful that you were alive and healthy
but that was soon followed by heartbreak and hopelessness. it hurt him to see you again, and it hurt even more to know that you had sided with chuohku
he couldn’t help but ruminate on what could’ve been
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