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#please tell me your opinions i'm having doubts about me...
moonastro · 3 months
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your future career
pick a picture
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left to right(top)-> 1,2,3
°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.
°Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).
° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!
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pile one: I'm seeing connections related to your career. what i mean about that is that you will have close relationships with very high status people that will help you along with your journey. I'm getting the vibes of when you ask someone about a goal of yours and they tell you that they know someone that can help you with your goal. It feels very prosperous and fortunate.
A career that you worked very hard for and stayed consistent in. like I'm feeling you studied, research and looked at every aspect of the career. Very knowledgeable about what you know. I also feel that you knew what you wanted to do from a very early age and it might have been your dream/goal to pursue that path. And to say the least, you will!! This is the literal definition of aiming high and achieving it. Sidenote- this career will be very unexpected for people when you tell them your status. You probably worked quietly and that's what got you to success.
This is also a career that may consist of you being very independent and thinking for yourself. This will enable you to help your family here also. I see you being the first in your family to achieve something very big and successful. This will allow you to take care of your family and help them out financially and giving them what they deserve for all the hardships that they supported you through.
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pile two: You may be unsure of what you are truly wanting as a career. you may be overthinking or just taking some time off and planning what might be suitable for you. (take this lightly please).
Anyway, i see money coming from overseas, very much investing and saving vibes. You take risks with this career, and take opportunities that are available. You also give a lot so this convinces me that it is investing. You reach for the impossible and you keep moving. some moves that are risky and out of context will also be a theme here, so the job may require toughness and risk overall.
there is a lot of consciousness about your surroundings. there is an instant reflex that you have when it comes to making quick and instant decisions. that actually may be your specialty. people come to you to get opinions and kind of like permission?? this convinces me that it may be a boss career OR a leading position that you take care of.
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pile three: Wowww. This career will be full of success and alignments. you will be very liked in your space and it will truly feel so destined that you will stay at the job for a very long time. you will go through lots and lots of other jobs before finally settling to the one. It may feel like you are very un grounded but trust everything, do not doubt your journey!!!
Somehow i feel like this career will be a luck thing. like i see you getting offered something and you accepting or you going out of your comfort zone only to get the best results from it. This job is somewhat of a surprise to you but you will be good at whatever you do.
I feel like the career will consist of lots of speaking and thinking. Very much office vibes (not saying it is). It will allow you to stand your ground and be able to express your opinions freely. I also think that you will become more confident with this career. like it will definitely change you for the better. Also, there will also be lots of connections like pile one, but for this pile it is more like unprofessional, unlike pile one it is very structured and professional connections. like it is more of you will meet lots of new peers and generally know lots of people by just being friendly.
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that's all for this post! thanks for reading, it is most appreciated💗🤍
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animehideout · 4 months
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I'm in need of fluff and comfort. Could I please request headcanons for how the JKK guys would comfort an S/0 who is doubting themselves and their abilities.
JJK Men Comforting Their S/O Who's Doubting Themselves
a/n: Hiii anon thank you for this fluff request, I hope you like it and it comforts you 🫶🏻. Sending you warm hugs ✨❤️.
Characters: Choso Kamo / Nanami Kento / Gojo Satoru.
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Choso Kamo: Words Of Affirmation.
When you're doubting yourself, you'd avoid talking to him, scared that he might judge you.
So you'd distance yourself from him.
He'd think that he did something wrong.
So he'd do everything in his power to make it up for you.
He'd apologize even though he did nothing wrong.
"Love? Please talk to me! I'm sorry if I made you upset, it won't happen again...I promise"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong Choso, it's just me–I'm just not good enough"
His eyes would widen in shock, you've always been so perfect in his eyes, so you confessing that you're doubting yourself took him by surprise and broke his heart.
A moment of silence would wash over both of you, letting your words sink in.
His wide eyes softened, gently taking your hands in his large palms ensuring a tangible connection.
If you cry, he'd get too emotional and tear up with you.
He'd give you time to speak your heart out, stopping you in between to give you his opinion; mainly telling you that you're amazing.
His words are his tool of comforting.
He'd list out all of your strengths and unique qualities.
"You are stronger than you think you are! You're unique!!"
"You have no idea, love! you always make me a better person, you motivate me to keep on going–"
Each sentence emerged from the bottom of his heart, full of sincerity and love.
"We all face hard times but know that you're capable of everything and anything baby"
His words were crafted to lift up your spirit and they did.
He'd spend the whole night expressing his belief in your skills.
He'd delete your self doubt and replace it with self-confidence, self-love and power.
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Nanami Kento: A Good Listener.
It would be when he gets home from work.
His keen awareness would allow him to pick up on the tense atmosphere, the moment he stepped into your shared bedroom.
He'd loosen up his tie, and approach you gently.
He knew that something is wrong, from the way you faked a smile to greet him, and from the way you were curled up like a ball on your bed.
"Honey! you alright? wanna talk about it?".
The bed sinking behind you. His hand carefully rested on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
"You know you can tell me anything right?".
Leans in to press soft kisses on your arm, letting you know that he's there for you.
His presence alone, motivated you to vent.
You slowly turned, now facing him.
He opened his arms, signaling for you to get closer and lay in his comfortable embrace while you talk about your feelings.
"I feel like I'm not doing anything right..I always mess up things.. I'm not good enough–" you'd start.
The more you talk, the more he holds you close to his chest.
He'd listen to you attentively, leaning in slightly to catch every word you say.
Nods in understanding and hums.
Creates a safe space for you to let everything unfold without being interrupted or feeling ashamed.
He would ask logical yet thoughtful questions.
Inviting you to share more without making you feel pressured, like asking about what triggered this feelings, how long have you been doubting yourself... Is it related to a past trauma.
He would try to understand every detail.
He would know when and what to ask.
Very considerate and patient.
Adresses every concern with genuine understanding.
Even if your words are scrambled, he'd totally get you.
He'd wait patiently, giving you all the time you need to formulate your sentences and find the right words.
He would be silent when you talk making sure to not interrupt your train of thoughts and express yourself fully.
His careful and considerate nature allows you to feel secure and comforted. Just by listening to what you say, you'd feel loads better.
"I totally understand sweetheart! this is a safe place, you can tell me everything.. I'm all ears"
"we will work on it together, okay?"
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Gojo Satoru: Physical Affection.
He'd notice right away how your mood dropped.
You were in a public place, so he would take you somewhere more private so you can be yourself without trying to fake a smile.
Gojo chose the language of touch.
He's always been so physically affectionate with you, so when you're feeling down and in need of comfort he'll double that affection.
Wouldn't leave your side.
He'd know that you're doubting yourself, he always reads you like an open book.
He'd give you a big hug and let you cry or just snuggle in his arms till you calm down.
He'll show you that he loves you the way you are.
His body moves on its own, from holding you close till he squeezes air out of you, to peppering your face with playful kisses, earning giggles from you.
"Here's that beautiful smile again".
He'd give you time to calm down, and gain your confidence back.
"I have faith in you, you're amazing, never forget that...now come here let me kiss you".
Even after he manages to make you feel better, he'd never leave your side, spend the whole day attached to you like a koala.
His arm still wrapped around your shoulder, giving you kisses and headpats every now and then.
Leaning down, to check up on you and make sure you're comfortable.
Boops your nose a lot.
"Are you feeling better now??"
"Whenever you feel down, I'll make sure to lift you up" .
Cracks jokes to make you laugh.
Tickles you a lot.
Wouldn't let go of you till he makes sure you're back all smiley again with no worries at all.
He trusts you a lot, and always makes sure to show you that he's proud of you.
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navybrat817 · 9 months
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Sign the Dotted Line
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You discuss the terms with Estelle and wait the week before seeing Andy again. Word Count: Over 3.5k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had a hard time relaxing after your meeting with Andy. You couldn’t put your finger on why you were wound up. The discussion went well, even better than you expected. Andy wasn’t pushy considering the power he wielded, but also wasn’t a pushover when you questioned him or offered alternatives. He conducted himself the way you needed him to, both professionally and personally. If he hadn’t, you’d have a much harder time going along with his contact.
So why am I so restless?
Estelle, once again reminding you why she was one of the best friends a girl could have, stopped by your place with wine and pizza. “You were not about to tell me over the phone what happened. Once I get this passed out, dish.”
Your friend was unusually quiet as you gave her the rundown of the meeting and terms you agreed to. It meant a lot that she listened, but you expected her to chime in once or twice with her opinion as she refilled your glasses of wine. Was she thinking carefully about what to say or did she not have anything to add?
“I have three questions for you,” she said, drumming her manicured nails along her glass. “First, why didn’t you accept his higher offer for more money each month?”
There it is.
“Because it was an excessive amount of money considering he’s going to pay my bills and rent, along with getting me a new wardrobe AND a personal driver. Unless I’m going out with you or our friends, it doesn’t sound like I’m going to pay for anything.”
Saying it out loud made you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Everything you had was because you worked for it. Soon, you wouldn't even work at the diner. To think the next nine months you wouldn’t work? It didn't sound real.
It didn't sound like you.
“All I'm saying is you could’ve used that extra money for savings,” she pointed out with a raise of her glass. “Or to stock up on wine.”
You snorted a bit, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m still going to put money aside for savings, but the amount he’s going to spend taking care of me? It’s a lot.”
“Doesn’t sound like it’s much to him if he agreed so easily.”
“It’s a lot to me,” you said under your breath.
And I’m not about to take advantage of him.
Andy was going to take care of you like he promised. You had no doubt about that. The world he lived in, maybe it wouldn’t make much of a difference in his bank account to take on your debt for the next nine months. You weren’t going to push for more money when he was giving you the world and then some.
Estelle smiled into her glass. “I haven’t met the guy yet, but I think he likes you because you’re a good person. I mean, he wants you to have dinners with him so he can talk to you and to get to know you even more,” she said, leaning forward when you tried to look away. “Which brings me to my second question. How do you feel about the ‘no sex’ in the contract?”
Your stomach sank a bit, making you wonder if that was why you felt restless when you should’ve been happy. “Is it bad if I say it hurts my ego a little?”
It was irrational to have a bit of a bruised ego. Andy gave you an explanation as to why he didn’t add that clause and it made perfect sense. The fantasy that he wanted you still played out in your mind though. But what would wanting him lead you to? What did you have to offer him besides companionship?
“A little? Mine would’ve hurt a lot,” she joked, causing your face to fall more as your thoughts crushed you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Just because he doesn't have it in the contract doesn't mean he isn't attracted to you. Didn’t you say he complimented the dress, which we knew you looked hot in? And your smile?”
"He did,” you answered, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the wine. “But Andy is like a full course meal. What the hell am I?"
Estelle wadded up her napkin and threw it at your head, which you dodged. "So are you. If you don't believe me, at least consider yourself to be dessert or a fine wine," she said. You wouldn’t, but you weren’t about to tell her that. "And you know what? I respect the man a hell of a lot more for not adding anything sexual to the contract.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. You said if something happened, he wanted it to be natural or organic. He doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He wants to seduce you the old fashioned way. And I say let him. You can start by taking some of that money he gave you and buy some fancy lingerie.”
You finished your glasses, wondering what Andy liked. Did he like something simple and classic? What colors would get his attention? "I was going to pay you back for the dress and the shoes," you told her.
With a wrinkle of her nose, she snatched the bottle from the table "Those were a gift and I won't accept any money back," she said, pouring the rest of the wine into her glass. You figured that was what she'd say. "And because you offended me, no more wine for you."
"You’re the one who brought that bottle, so your rules," you reminded her as she shot you a look. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have offered to pay you back for my present."
Estelle nodded after a moment. "Good. That's good practice for when Andy buys you something just because and you try to pay him back."
You refrained from rolling your eyes, but she had a point. You would probably try to pack him back whether he wanted it or not. "Is it really paying him back if it's with his own money?"
She pretended to think it over before laughing. "Probably not," she said as you stood up to take your glass to the sink. "Hey, I didn't ask my third question."
"Fire when ready."
"Do you really want to give it a week when you have your mind made up?"
Estelle knew you all too well. Even if you hadn't told her from the start that you planned to sign the contract, she would've figured it out. "The time frame was his call."
While it did give you time to think it through, surely he had to get things in order, too. Like your new place. God, you couldn't believe you were going to move into his building.
"You could ask him to move up the date? Worst thing he could say is 'no'."
Maybe.
"Yeah," you said, going to sit back down with a huff. "Are you sure you don't mind being in the know of this? And having to keep it under wraps?"
"Are you kidding? It's an honor you asked me," she said, holding her head high with such confidence you had to smile. "I got your back."
"Thanks, Estelle," you said.
She waved her hand dismissively, but had a smile on her face. "Don't mention it."
"Okay. Now enough about me," you smiled. "Tell me about your day."
"Well," she smirked, tilting her head as she paused dramatically. "I may have found a guy for Wendy."
Your eyes lit up, happy you asked. Wendy was another friend of yours who hadn’t dated in awhile. "Tell me everything."
You managed to keep your focus on Estelle as she told you about the gorgeous guy she met in a coffee shop who was just Wendy’s type. You wondered how different things would've been had you and Andy met that way. Would it change your story? Would you be where you were now?
Staring at your phone when Estelle went to use the bathroom, you debated whether or not to text Andy. You just saw him earlier today and he had a business dinner. How desperate would you look asking him to move the contract date up?
"Fuck it," you muttered, snatching the device and quickly typing out a message. Communication was key. Like honesty.
"I don't want to wait a week, but I understand if we have to. I hope your dinner went well."
“BOO!” You nearly dropped your phone when Estelle smacked the couch behind you. "You messaged him, didn't you?"
"Yeah," you giggled, holding your chest to calm your pounding heart. "Told him I didn't want to wait a week, but understood if we had to."
"Hopefully he listens. Well, he will if he wants to get in your pants."
"Stop," you giggled as your phone went off, holding your breath as you read the message.
"I'd rather have dinner with you. And I understand you don’t want to wait, but what was it you said about anticipation?"
Using anticipation against me.
"Fine, Daddy."
The three dots popped up immediately as he typed. "You're teasing me, honey."
"Maybe. I'll see you in a week."
“Looking forward to it, but one more thing I forgot to mention. I’d like a witness for the contract signing.”
"Are you two sexting?" Estelle asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
"No," you smiled.
Just called him 'Daddy'.
"But he's sticking it out for the week," you said, only a little disappointed. He did have to draw up a contract. “And we need a witness for the signing. I’d like it to be you.”
"Ooh. He's making you wait for it," she said, giving you a small smile. "Give me the time and date and I’ll be there."
“Thanks,” you smiled, sending Andy back a message. “Estelle volunteered.”
“Perfect.”
“One more week and he’s yours,” Estelle smiled.
"One more week."
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It really was the longest week of your life to wait to see Andy again, but today was the day.
Your heart beat fast as you and Estelle went into the building and went through the motions with the security guard. You half expected Irene to tell you Andy didn’t have an appointment with you as you made your way to the office. It was silly to think he’d back out, but your nerves were getting the better of you. And why?
Because you hadn’t heard from Andy. Not once. You kept looking at the door expectantly during your shifts at the diner, only to be met with disappointment when he didn’t show. You also didn’t want to admit how many times you checked your phone to see if he reached out. The man had more important things to do than visit or text you.
“Cheer up,” Estelle told you in the elevator. You felt bad. You were sulking and you didn’t try to hide it. Part of that scared you because why did it matter that he had gone radio silent?
“You don’t think he changed his mind, do you?”
“No. He’s just a busy man. Get out of your head.”
“I’m trying,” you sighed.
You led Estelle to the office, expecting to see Irene. All you saw was an empty desk. The light above her chair was off, too. The double doors were shut. Maybe it was a sign. This was too good to be true.
Andy was too good to be true.
“There you are,” you heard as the double doors opened.
“Holy shit,” Estelle breathed, almost making you elbow her.
“Andy,” you said, not quite smiling when you caught sight of him. He didn’t have a blazer on and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. “I was just-”
“Irene wasn’t feeling well, so I sent her home for the day. Come on in.”
“Can you give us a minute?” You asked your friend, who raised an eyebrow in response.
“Yeah. I’ll be here,” she said, taking a seat. Once Andy's back was turned, she mouthed, "Hot!"
Yeah, he is.
You clutched your bag a little tighter as you walked in, reminding yourself to breathe as Andy shut the door. “We’re still doing this?” You asked, your voice shaky.
“Of course, we are,” he said, pulling out the chair that you sat in a week before. “Why? Are you having second thoughts?”
“No. Truthfully, I thought you changed your mind.”
Andy paused before he took his seat. “I have no reason to back out. I offered and want this. I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word. I’m happy to prove that to you if you don’t believe me,” he said, carefully looking you over as blood rushed to your cheeks. “What made you think I’d change my mind?”
You shook your head. “It’s silly.”
“It isn’t silly to me,” he said, sweeping his gaze over you once again. “You’re stiff, honey, and you’re barely looking me in the eye. What’s going on? What do I need to do to put you at ease?”
You swallowed a little. “It was a long week to think it over and I hadn’t heard from you. Because of that, I wasn’t sure if you maybe decided to change your mind,” you explained, lifting your eyes to meet his. You were met with concern and care. “Silly, right?”
“No, it isn’t,” he assured you, sliding a small packet across the table to give you a chance to look at the top page. It was the contact. He really put it together. “May I explain?”
“Of course,” you whispered.
He surprised you by moving his chair around the table so he was beside you instead of across from you. “First, I’m sorry my silence caused any doubt. That wasn’t my intention. I only wanted to give you time to think things through,” he said, his tone gentle as he tapped the contract with his finger. “Would I have this here if I wanted to change my mind?”
“No, I don’t think,” you said, feeling a bit small.
“Second,” he said, a small smile on his face as he took out his phone. “I was the last one to message you. Maybe I didn’t want to bombard you between work.”
You stared at his phone and realized he was right. The last thing he sent was “Perfect.” regarding Estelle was your witness. You never said anything else. God, you were an idiot.
“So you were waiting to hear back from me?” You tried to tease as his smile widened. It was a handsome look. “Okay. So. I may have let my nerves get the better of me. I’m sorry. I just really want this to work.”
It took a lot for you to say that, but there was no judgment from him as he placed his hand over yours.
“So do I, honey,” he said in a low voice. “For the record, you can message me whenever you want. It won’t bother me.”
“Ditto,” you said before you cringed.
Ditto? Really? So eloquent.
He chuckled as he handed you a pen, leaning in a bit closer and giving you a chance to catch that cologne of his you loved. You’d never be able to smell it again without thinking of him. “As long as you’re okay and ready, would you like to start?”
“Yes, I would,” you smiled, sparing him another glance. “Thank you, Andy.”
He didn’t have to put you at ease. He could’ve easily laughed you off as sounding clingy or desperate, but he soothed your nerves. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from an ex-lawyer and, what you believed to be, a good man.
“Of course,” he said, going to the door to get Estelle. “Come in. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, smiling as she shook Andy’s hand. “Heard a lot about you.”
A pange of jealousy settled in your chest when Andy chuckled, making you look away. Estelle was the kind of woman Andy should be with. She belonged in his world. But she wouldn’t do anything. She was a good friend and knew you were at the very least attached to Andy.
I need to get a grip.
You had no idea why the voice in your head was being so cruel to you. First the assumption about Andy backing out and now this. It needed to stop.
“I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to be here. I realize there are some stigmas when it comes to contracts, so I want you to know I have her best interest at heart.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Estelle asked, winking at you as she sat down and squashing those nerves once more.
“I also have an NDA for you to sign,” Andy added as he took a seat again beside you and leveled your friend with a look. “I don’t really care what people say about me if word gets out. It won't make a difference. I won’t, however, have them slander her. So I’m trusting you to protect her.”
Estelle’s eyebrows shot up as did yours. Andy’s reputation meant a lot more than yours, yet it was you he was worried about. “You are so authoritative and bossy. No wonder you're in charge,” she said, grabbing a pen for herself. "I'll sign whatever you put in front of me."
“Okay then,” Andy smiled, tilting the paper so both of you could look together. “Let’s get started.”
Andy carefully read over each section, giving both you and Estelle a chance to object or stop him. Everything discussed was accounted for. The length of the contract, job, living arrangements, expenses, travel, he had it all. No red flags jumped out. Nothing of concern. You saw no reason to object when he stated everything as agreed.
“Any questions?” He asked, like he had after every portion.
“Back to the living arrangements,” Estelle said, pointing her pen at him. “I want to be there when she moves in.”
“You do?” You questioned with a look. “You hate moving.”
“Oh, I don’t plan on doing any of the heavy lifting,” she teased. She usually paid people for that. “But I insist on seeing your building and where she’s going to live. I may ask to see your place, too.”
His place? Why?
Andy appeared surprised by the request as well. “My place? Is that necessary?”
“If you plan on having her there, yes. I want to make sure it’s safe. I get that she’s your sugar baby once she signs the dotted line, but she’s my best friend. She was before she met you and she will be once this contract ends. You want to protect her? So do I.”
Andy hummed thoughtfully. “What do you think?” he asked you.
You would feel more comfortable with someone you trusted there. Not that you didn't trust Andy, but the situation wasn't normal and you understood Estelle’s insistence. Still, seeing his place? Was she being a bit nosy? Was she curious about the man?
She's looking out for me.
“I think that’s fine, all things considered,” you replied.
“Okay. You’ll be there when she moves in and you’re welcome to see my place,” Andy agreed.
“With me there,” you added. She had no reason to see Andy’s place all by herself.
“Duh,” Estelle smiled with a wave of her hand. “Proceed.”
Minutes later, Andy finished and signed the document when you didn't raise any concerns. He slid the last page in your direction and your hand trembled a bit as you went to sign. You caught a look of worry on Estelle’s face when you hesitated. You were so close.
“Honey?” Andy asked so softly you almost missed it.
“I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word.”
With an exhale, you signed your name. This was it. For the next nine months, you’d belong to Andy. Well, in some ways.
Andy’s smile warmed your heart as he passed the sheet to Estelle. Her smile was bright enough to light up the room as she signed. She was thrilled for you.
And you allowed yourself to feel happy, too.
“You’re officially a sugar baby!” Estelle said, quickly signing the NDA as you and Andy exchanged a look. You wished you knew what he was thinking. “We need to celebrate.”
Andy cleared his throat. “Actually, I was kind of hoping I could steal her away for a bit after I make her a copy of this.”
“You were?” You and Estelle asked in unison.
“Yeah,” he smiled as he got to his feet. He practically towered over you where you sat. “I want to take you to the diner myself so you can turn in your notice. What do you say?”
You smiled as Estelle clapped her hands together. “Let’s go.”
After that, you could celebrate the next chapter in your life.
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It's official! Here we go! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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dixons-sunshine · 21 days
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hi I just wanted to start with I really love your writing its just so good. I do have a request and if your not interested its okay it is angst but with a possible happy ending.
so its a daryl x reader where before the apocalypse r and daryl were together and they ended things right before everything went to shit and then when the group gets to Alexandria r is there and she has kid/s (maybe twins?? boy and girl??) so turns out r found out she was pregnant right when everything started happening so daryl didn't know and idk he like puts two and two together yk? and if you're okay with it can she be hispanic/ latin (maybe that can be one of the reasons they broke up bc yk merl is an ass to POC)
anyways sorry if that was a lot or didn't make sense
anyways have a good day/night much love <3
Two Plus Two Makes Four | Daryl Dixon x Hispanic!Fem!Reader
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Summary: A week before the apocalypse, Daryl was forced to break up with you by Merle, leaving you heartbroken, but not alone—soon after he left, you found out you were pregnant. Now, two years later, you come face to face again with the man that broke your heart, and he finds out something shocking.
Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.
Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.
Word count: 1.3k
A/n: Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope this is good enough to make up for the wait! Please note that I used Google translate for this, so the translations may be incorrect or awkward! Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes! (Translations will be at the bottom.)
“Kids?! Ya were pregnant and ya didn't fuckin' tell me?!” Daryl bellowed angrily, grabbing your arm to halt you from walking away from him.
You ripped your hand from his grip. “¡No me toques!” You spun around, furiously pointing a finger in your ex boyfriend's direction. “Don't you even dare put this on me, Dixon! You left. You walked out because you cared more about your brother's opinion than you did me! I'm sorry I wasn't gonna baby trap a man who didn't wanna be with me!”
“I deserved to know! I missed two years of their lives 'cause ya didn't tell me! I could of been there fer 'em, for ya, but ya chose to keep it from me!” Daryl exclaimed angrily, following you as you walked into your kitchen. “How could ya keep tha' from me?!”
“You chose to run to your brother the first chance you got! Four years down the drain in an instant for that racist asshole. I didn't owe you anything after that, maldito idiota!”
Daryl stopped in his tracks, instantly regretting starting up this particular argument. You spoke nothing but the truth. You didn't owe him anything. After all, it was him who walked out on you. He chose to let Merle's judgement get to him and influence his relationship. Hell, if it weren't for Merle, he would have proposed to you. He already had a ring picked out and everything back then, but he let Merle ruin everything. It was his own stupidity that cost him two years of his children's lives.
“Mama?”
At the sound of a small, timid voice coming from behind you, both you and Daryl turned and came face to face with your kids, your two year old twins. Your son, Luka, was nervously looking up at you and Daryl while your daughter, Camilla, was standing behind him, holding his hand.
Daryl was struck by the similarities both children shared with him. They both had his eyes, and his hair colour. They were spitting images of him. There was no doubt in his mind that these two children were his. He wasn't blind. He could see they were.
“Everything's fine, amores. I'm just having a conversation with Mr Dixon.”
Camilla stepped forward, her eyes lighting up with wonder. She looked up at Daryl, a smile spreading across her chubby cheeks. “Dixon?” she asked, pointing up at him. “Papa?”
Daryl was surprised. He looked up at you in confusion, silently asking for an explanation. You sent him a strained smile, forcing a relaxed look in front of your children.
“I always talk about you. They deserve to know who their father is. Well, who he was before he left me,” you explained, looking back down at Camilla and Luka.
“Papa?” Luka asked as he stepped forward, his blue eyes that reflected Daryl's sparkling with wonder. “Our papa?”
Daryl looked at you for permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You nodded, silently giving him permission. He was their dad, after all, and he had just as much right to have a relationship with them as you, even if he did leave you. However, that was between him and you, and your children didn't deserve to be denied a relationship with their dad because of it.
The archer bent down, looking between Luka and Camilla as they stared at him in wonder. “Yeah, m'yer papa. M'sorry I wasn't here before, but m'here now. I ain't goin' nowhere.”
Daryl wasn't sure how much of his speech they understood, if they understood anything at all, but it didn't matter. The speech was mainly meant for you. It was to let you know that he wanted to be a part of their lives, and there was just about nothing that could stop him from that.
Camilla and Luka, as if having some sort of twin power, both simultaneously rushed forward and into his arms. Daryl wasted no time in hugging them back, somehow managing to pick them both up and rest them comfortably in his arms. It was relatively late, nearly eight at night and well past their bed times, so they rested their heads on his shoulders, making Daryl's heart swell with fondness. They didn't even know him, only having heard of him through the stories you told them, but they already trusted him. And even though he just found out he had kids, he would kill for them.
“We need to talk, sunshine. This ain't somethin' we can just sweep under the rug,” he told you, allowing you to take Luka from his arms to lighten the load. He adjusted his hold on Camilla, letting out a fond chuckle when he heard her yawn and nuzzle her face deeper into his shoulder.
You let out a sigh and nodded. “I know. But let's get these dormilones to bed first.”
Approximately half an hour later, the twins were tucked into bed and asleep. You and Daryl were back in the kitchen, both having a glass of wine in your hands—liquid courage for the conversation you were about to have.
“M'sorry fer leavin' ya,” Daryl broke the silence first, nervously sloshing the liquid around in his glass. “I dun' even know why I did. Merle's opinions should've never influenced our relationship. I loved ya. I still do. I regret leavin' ya more than anythin' else in my life.”
You inhaled deeply, willing the tears away. For two years you had wanted an explanation, and now you were finally getting one. However, hearing him admit that he still loved you, that you weren't stupid for still loving the man who broke your heart, was both relieving and hurtful.
“You hurt me, Daryl,” you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I get that Merle was your brother, but you should've never let him influence you like that. I had to go through everything alone. Do you know how hard it was being pregnant and fighting for my life against the dead out there? Do you know how terrified I was? I was lucky enough to find Alexandria a couple of days before I gave birth. If I didn't, I would've given birth out there with the walkers. I probably would've died. Camilla and Luka too.”
Daryl felt the guilt gnawing at his insides. He really hated himself at that moment. “M'sorry, sweetheart. I really fuckin' am. I promise I won't leave again. I dun' expect you to give me a second chance. God knows I dun' deserve it, but I promise I'll be here fer ya and the lil ones. I ain't ever gon' let ya down again, I promise.”
You gave him a small smile, reaching over to take his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, something you always did whenever the two of you had a serious talk. “Give me some time, Daryl. I still love you, but I need some time to adjust to the idea of 'us' again. It's been just me and the twins for two years. As far as I knew before today, I thought I wouldn't see you ever again. Just focus on the kids for now, okay? They deserve to know their daddy.”
Daryl's lips twitched up into a smile, and he nodded. “I'll wait as long as ya need me to. I ain't ever gon' let anyone influence us ever again, I can assure ya of tha'. And I ain't ever gon' leave ya to raise 'em alone, never.”
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
¡No me toques!: Don't touch me!
Translations (May be incorrect! Please feel free to correct me if they are!):
maldito idiota!: fucking idiot!
amores: loves.
dormilones: sleepyheads.
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calisources · 2 months
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𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒, 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences were taken from difference media about age gap and age difference relationships, all acceptable relationships within consenting adults with age differences. Please do not use for teenagers or taboo relationships. These have some foul language or suggestive undertones so please beware. You can change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.
I bet it doesn’t feel like this with that boy of yours, does it?
You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness, pumping my cock into one of your tight holes. And you’ll take every inch like a good little girl.
What a tiny life we’d live if we fashioned ourselves to the comforts of others.
I think I'm a little old for that, love.
No, not old. But you're, you know, a man.
Tell me that you've never had anyone else. I want you to pretend.
You show me things I've forgotten.
Sometimes I think you must have seen it all before. That I can't show you anything new.
I like you as you are, he said. Even if you're going to wear me out.
I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul. She bruises far more easily.
This prince is a few years younger than you, and does not have much experience.
I must have forgotten how young you would be, Princess. Has there ever been a sovereign of such tender age?
Who is to say what love is or what it wants to be, the shape it takes, or how quickly it comes on? Love has always made a fool of time.
I don’t feel old. As a matter of fact, sitting here with you makes me feel older, not younger. Nothing is rubbing off.
Mr. Rochester was about forty, and this governess not twenty; and you see, when gentlemen of his age fall in love with girls, they are often like as if they were bewitched.
He's old enough to be your father.
Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.
But she wants you. And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.
Age is no barrier. It's a limitation you put on your mind.
Age considers; youth ventures.
Age, like distance lends a double charm. 
I'm a strong believer that a good relationship can work, whatever the situation. 
Love knows no boundaries, not even the ones defined by age.
Don’t let society’s judgment define your love. Follow your heart, despite the age difference.
Most people would be upset they get an old man as their husband.  
Do not worry about your age, Ser. The lady pays attention not to age but prowess.
I will not let time choose my lovers for me. I trust my own judgement. 
You should look to more prosperous gardens, Your Grace.
I was sixteen years old when you were born.
No doubt you were much my superior in judgement at that period of our lives; but does not the lapse of one-and-twenty years bring our understandings a good deal nearer?
Come, my dear Emma, let us be friends, and say no more about it. 
I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers. But I am a partial old friend.
If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.
We spend more time discussing this matter than being together as a couple. And I believe you are doing it on purpose.
You think my attention is as fickle that I would look elsewhere.
Perhaps it would be you who looks elsewhere. A handsome older man must have youthful maidens at his disposal.
If we were closer in age, it would've been fine.
I have loved you since the moment I helped you with your zipper. 
Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?
You’ll be a silver fox before 40 at this rate.
Well, it’s definitely your fault. You stress me out. You’re making my hair turn white.
It’s easy to cast opinions when your heart isn’t the one invested.
I hope you love me, because I love you like crazy, and I'm going to want you the rest of my life.
You already know the truth. And I will be by your side, but I am not good for you.
I am tired of others getting to choose who is good for me. You do that quite often, frequently. 
You'll keep your name. You'll keep your will. You'll have your own servants to attend you— you will have everything you ask for.
Don't ask me to let you do. Do you understand? Do not ask me.
It might be best for us, for myself, if I found myself useful elsewhere.
I wish you could just slow down so I could catch up to you.
Stamina is not an issue. But rather what others will whisper.
When are you going to get over this? All I did was touch your leg.
Why would it matter if someone saw you saying hello to me?
But it’s nice to be around you. Like I haven’t lost a decade of my life.
I been in love with you since I was six, fool. 
I will always belong to you, but I’m afraid there will be others after me. I’m not a young man/woman.
A kiss ... a muse. It is a question, an unlocked door. It is ... elation ... and anguish.
You have treated me better than any young man my age. Why should I go for either of them? 
Young men are eager lovers. I prefer my lovers to take their time. I’m sure with men is the same.
You make me feel really safe. i’m not used to that.
You gave an old man purpose again. And that is more than I can ask of you.
I was a child then, with a crush and a dream. As I grew, dreams changed but you remain the one in my dreams.
I have thought about kissing you a lot. What would that make me?
I have more in common with you than men my age.
Do not pretend to think what I think.
More recently, there are rumors she prefers her lovers to be younger. Truth to be told, I don’t blame her.
I will teach you in time, but for now restrain me and have your way with me. I don’t want to think, I just want to feel.
We have never done anything to be ashamed of. You’ve never done anything to be ashamed of.
Personally, I think the difference keeps us interesting in another another. 
You can teach me all you wish, and I can learn. I know I can.
There is always a wild side to an innocent face.
You are being too forward right now, my lady. Be careful.
There would be other loves. Even great loves. But she was right, only one remained perfect.
Maybe there are some people you marry and people you love.
Just so you know, you're a natural lover. Your body expresses beautifully what's in your heart.
I have never felt so alive... as when I am in your arms.
A 5 to 7 relationship is a relationship outside of marriage.
You're older than I am, you're wiser I'm sure and you've seen much more of the world.
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roturo · 10 months
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BITE ME
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summary: being a vampire hunter wasn't easy, and it became rougher when you encountered a cute tall white-haired vampire that would change up your opinions about them
warnings: smut, blood, vampire!gojo x vampire hunter!reader, sub!gojo, dacryphilia, gojo cries during sex lmao, kinda rushed, piv, unprotected sex, overstimulation, kinda fucked dumb tbh, blood lust, like it was love at first sight yass, no one is in their right mind, just horny tbh, loved this idea, maybe oc gojo idk, bc he's such a cutie pie here, aghdhsagbdy this is cute that im even surprised, never wrote for sub!gojo but idk, enjoy.
TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK.
Since little you were taught many things, but the most important one is to always hate vampires.
Living in a community divided by unnatural human beings and well, humans, made society enter into a conflict if both kinds of communities should mix. 
Your family was a well known vampire hunter, you lived in a forest far away from the city where most of the vampires usually exist between humans. Being a medical student made you learn a lot about the species that killed your dad. So being a recognized ‘vampire hunter’ wasn’t such a good thing.
Maybe that’s why you couldn’t stand being near them, nor living with them. That’s why when you had a vampire as a patient (who are most of the time the ½ vampires) you made sure of learning all about them, learning how to defend yourself from them, and even might kill them.
You have a specific freezer for human blood and some samples of whatever type of blood vampires have. Spending most of the time examining the different types of cells and differences from the human blood.
And that’s the thing. Having human blood and being alone in the middle of nowhere is not the safest option to avoid vampires.
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Gojo Satoru is a well respected young vampire, not by his ancestors though, since he decided to live more of a ‘pacific lifestyle.’ Humans had this thing where vampires couldn’t feed themselves with human blood. At this rate he doesn’t know if the new generations are good for everyone or just for humans, and do not even dare to talk about animal blood, that’s disgusting. 
But when he has the chance of drinking human blood, I'm telling you, this man becomes insatiable. Maybe that’s why society invented other types of supplements for vampires. But coming from a lofty clan, he couldn’t live from those disgusting things human called ‘’food’’
And well... when he saw this cute lady coming out from the hospital with a case full of blood bags (thanks to his supernatural power to identify the delectable human blood on his own) he couldn’t resist himself from following you until you got home.
Please let it be possible that vampires can be knocked out, you thought. You couldn't believe a vampire was standing right infront of your freezer looking for something. With all of the strength you could muster up, you swung the pan down right on his head, no doubt strong enough to give anyone a major concussion. Immediately, he fell to the ground, as lifeless as he wouldn’t be if he wasn’t a vampire.
“Holy shit…” You breathed out, shoulders high and tense. Looking down at him, you noticed how young he looked, and in all honesty, he didn’t look threatening at all. You felt a tinge of worry, wondering if he wasn’t a vampire after all, and you might’ve just killed him.
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So that’s how you find yourself here and how you might met the love of your life.
Edging closer to the man, you bent down to see if he was breathing. He was completely still. That didn’t tell you much, though, as he could be dead or…the undead.
Thank god you had a basement here, especially if anything like this happened. I guess following your dad's steps really helped you out. Which was why it was the best place to drag the vampire into. Maybe you could keep him in there and question him on how the hell he got into your house, and at the same time, you could keep him at a safe distance from yourself.
He was much heavier than you thought he was, but you guessed that came from his height. He was still unconscious but you guessed that it wouldn’t be for long. Suddenly, two large hands grabbed the rusted metal bars from inside of the room and you screamed as his face had come into view like a jump scare.
“Get me out.”
You backed up from the window as far as you could, going to the other side of the room. You didn’t know why you were so scared, mainly because he was behind a locked door. You guessed that despite whatever vampire strength he had, he couldn’t get himself out.
Maybe it’s the hit on his head still playing games? The metal bars your dad gave you for this?
“What are you doing? Let me out!” He frowned. “Why did you put me in here?”
“W-why are you in my house?” You asked him. He didn’t say anything for a second.
‘’Ah.. shit.’’ Right, the blood bags. “Bitch, I was hungry!” He yelled back, making you recoil. Did he just call you a bitch? “That’s why I’m here, because I was hungry and I thought that maybe I could steal some of the blood bags you have.’’
‘‘Have you been stalking me?!’’ How does this vampire know about the blood bags?!
‘‘Uh-... no?... Yes.’’
You sighed. “Do you have anywhere else to go?”
“No…not really.” He said as if he was embarrassed. “I decided to drop out of college when I turned, so I can’t go back on campus.”
 “You can stay here if you want.” You didn’t exactly feel sure about him staying here, but he might help you with your research. He’s still a vampire after all… he’s a threat. But fuck it, that's how you learn new things. You asked for his name after you told yours.
‘‘Okay… Gojo Satoru. But you have to stay in there for a while, until I trust you.’’
“What about when I’m hungry?” He asked.
“I’ll figure that out’’
“What about when I’m lonely?”
“...’’
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The faint sound of Gojo calling in your name woke you up. 
“What the fuck…?” You frowned, squinted eyes getting used to the sunlight. “Oh my fucking gosh.” You quickly got up from your bed, putting on your slippers, and stumbling out of your room, barely able to walk in a straight line. You stomped your way down two flights of stairs until you were met with Gojo holding on to the bars again. “What?!”
“Hi.” He greeted you. “It’s tomorrow, right? I can’t really tell since I’ve been locked in a basement of a dungeon with no light. But if it’s tomorrow, can I have a blood bag? It’s been weeks since I’ve eaten.’’
‘‘And why haven’t you eaten? There’s literal stores for you, vampires!’’
‘‘Ah.. well… I don’t like those.’’
‘‘What?...’’ You looked at him in disbelief for a few seconds. “You woke me up at 7 in the morning for a blood bag?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know it was 7.” He shrugged. You opened up the door of the cell, walking up the stairs, still tired from waking up only ten minutes ago. You heard him follow you, steps surprisingly light for someone as tall as he was.
He started looking around your house, kinda creepy for a vampire if you keep looking at weapons for them.
‘‘Um.. Are you a vampire hunter?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
He chuckled at your answer and sat on top of the table. ‘Why? Weren’t they banned like years ago? Humans even live with vampires, that’s silly from you.’’
‘‘Maybe I wouldn’t be silly if your kind didn’t killed my dad.’’
.... Shit. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.
‘‘Oh... I’m sorry.’’
You sighed, he didn’t mean it in a bad way, he shouldn’t receive this type of behavior from you.
‘‘It 's… okay. I’m not a vampire hunter like it, i’m more like a vampire examinator?’’ Well, you didn’t even think about that one before, if you didn’t want to kill vampires why are you doing this?
You handed him a blood bag from the freezer, watching his eyes light up made you slightly smile, he’s kinda cute. You woke up from your trance and slightly shook your head away from those thoughts.
“Remember not to rip it open and spill it.” You said. “Especially not on these old floors, it’ll soak right in.”
“Oh…right.” He said, twisting open the nozzle and drinking from there. You watched him down it in less than thirty seconds, his brows furrowed in concentration. After he was done, he set it down on the counter.
‘‘Uh.. Can I stay again tonight?... I can sleep on the floor again!’’
....
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One night turned into two nights, and two nights turned into a week, and a week, turned into a month.
You found yourself smiling at him, not noticing how used to him you’ve gotten. He was very peculiar in the least, but you guessed that was mainly because of him being a vampire. You found yourself wondering what he was like when he was a human. It was weird to know that the two of you were always in such close proximity without knowing it. Maybe it was fate. You snapped back into reality once he smiled at you, and you didn’t even think to return the smile. Instead, you looked down at your hands, picking at your nails as if you were busy. Honestly, you were embarrassed to get caught looking at the handsome vampire with boyish charm.
“Y'know…you’ve been holding out really well, so far.” You told him. “You have even helped me with my researches, nothing that I didn’t knew about, but still helped me confirm me”
He turned to look at you. “Really?” He asked, eyes brightening up a little.
“Really.” You nodded with a smile, and he lazily smiled back. “So, I’ve decided to give you a little present.”
“A present? What is it?” He asked curiously, words muffled by the fact that he was still entranced by the tv and some vampire supplement you bought for him 
“Guess.” You told him, feeling a bit mischievous. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s almost like…Why did we meet in the first place.”
“Hm?” He tilted his head to the side. “I’ve never hit you with a pan though? Or have I?” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought.
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t think too hard, you even called me bitch for it’’
“But I really can’t think of anything?” He said. “Can you just give me it? I’m not good at this guessing game…”
“Satoru…” You sighed, something was happening to you, on him... leaned towards him, softly caressing his cheek and giving him a small peck. That wasn’t the surprise, and you were as surprised as him when you did that. It’s just that his eyes looked so beautiful, his messy hair covering his forehead, and his cheeky smile while watching some shitty show on the tv... He froze in surprise, enough to not be able to kiss you back. 
“Oh…” He chuckled nervously, and you swore something on him changed the moment he looked right into your eyes again. “Can you maybe do it again?” He asked.
You responded with another kiss, one that he had returned this time, except for more fervor. It was like he was waiting to kiss you, dreaming about your lips on his. Did this mean…that you felt the same? Were you as infatuated with him as he was to you? He doubted that it was possible. All without you knowing, he might’ve fallen in love. Falling in love with a vampire, what they trained you hate most...  It only had to be fate that brought you two together.
“I really like you.” Gojo blurted out once you two parted.
“Do you mean that?” You asked him, slight insecurity peeking out from your otherwise hard shell. “I doubt you’ve met very many people in your life.”
‘‘Oh I have, but no one could compare to you sugar.’’ His lips attached to yours again, it’s like he was waiting for this moment his whole life.
¨S-satoru, wait!¨ He immediately stopped his actions, looking worried and for any kind of threat in you.
‘‘That wasn’t the surprise, you can try human blood again.’’
‘‘You got new blood bags? That’s amazing!’’ He was about to stand up from the couch when you stopped him sitting down on his lap, which made him froze.
‘‘I mean it's like… human, human. You can try my blood.’’
‘‘What?'' Silence passed.
''Are you sure? You’re not going to kill me or something right? I’ve seen those knifes you have in the basement and that could sure even kill Dracula.’’ You nodded and laughed at what he said.
He gulped, dark red eyes honing into the beating vein on the left side of your neck. He hesitantly bent down, nose to your neck as he took a big whiff of your sweet blood. He shut his eyes, fighting off the instinct to groan at just how good you smelled.
You chuckled at his reaction, ‘‘I mean it Satoru, this is me saying I like you too. I trust you.’’ With one more second of hesitation, he bit into your neck with his sharp fangs, and you felt a sharp pain. Your grip on his shoulders got tighter as you tried to distract yourself from the pain.
He couldn’t stop the moans of satisfaction at the magnificent taste of your blood, and you gradually noticed that something felt weird. You still felt the pain on the bite, but Gojo’s demeanor changed. It was almost as if he was enjoying it too much. His hands were grabby, not only on your hips, but in your waist and your bottom, and you gasped in surprise.
You started to notice what was going on when you felt how hard he was, his bulge pushing into your stomach.
¨’Toru…?’’ You breathed out, feeling light headed. He moaned, suddenly grinding his lower half into you. He then retracted his fangs, looking at you with wide, lust blown eyes, your blood dribbling down his chin.
“I’m s-sorry-“ He whined, placing you on the counter and rutting himself into you. “I’m so sorry, I-I don’t mean, to, I can’t help it-“ He broke out into an erotic moan, and despite how lightheaded and out of it you were, it aroused you to no end.
You assured him it was okay, looking into his eyes, you could find lust, but mostly embarrassment from it. You didn’t know that he could get this worked up from his own bloodlust, but you weren’t complaining. The only thing you had a problem with was the fact that there were too many clothes separating the both of you, but you didn’t think neither of you were in the right minds to seperate and take each article off.
“Can I be inside of you?” Gojo asked in between harsh breaths. “Please, please, please, I want to so bad-“ It was almost as if he was in pain, rutting into you so hard that you bounced on top of his lap each time. You nodded your head aggressively, opening your legs so you were caging his. You were wearing black leggings, and you thought that they’d be quick and easy to take off, but Gojo instead decided to rip them down the middle, doing so with ease.
“Satoru…!”
“Sorry! It’s just… I can’t take it any more baby..” He apologized over and over again, even as he released his cock from its confines, holding the thick base in between a shaky fist. He moved your panties to the side and slid in with one thrust. The both of you whined loudly at that, and he couldn’t wait any further before he started pounding into you with fervor. You heard the sound of your wet heat, but you didn’t care, mouth agape in a silent scream as he pounded into you with no remorse.
Well…some remorse. He couldn’t stop apologizing as he fucked into you, begging for you to forgive him for being so dirty and succumbing uncontrollable urges.
You yelped as he picked you up from the back of the couch, holding you in his arms as he dropped you on his cock over and over.
“Fuck!” You cursed. “M-more, more-“ You chanted, feeling his cock deep inside of you. You saw tears start to slide down his cheeks and he cried with pleasure. You clenched around him, wanting to see him unravel even more, which made him fuck you on his cock even faster, using you like a rag doll. His vampire strength had kicked in once he drank your sweet blood, something that he was afraid he’d get addicted on since he tasted you for the first time.
He was addicted to your warmth, your lips, your blood, and especially the way your pussy just sucked him in, holding tight and never letting go
“F-fuck, ‘toru, I’m cumming!” You moaned, your pussy convulsing around his cock and making him go crazy. You came around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He nearly slammed you into a wall, fucking you roughly, the slick from your cum making it easier to slide in and out of you.
You were extremely overstimulated, your abused pussy needing a break, but Gojo couldn’t stop. He let out nearly pornographic moans as he fucked you through yet another orgasm, not even noticing exactly what you were going through.
You just had to sit there, his cock inside of you, moaning his name again and again., taking just what he needed to give you.
“Oh fuck, (Y/N)-“ He whined, more tears spilling out of his eyes. You were out of it, dazed and cock drunk. “I’m gonna cum— ah!” He mewled out as he finally came, stilling inside of you as he filled you up. His legs shook as he shut his eyes tightly in pleasure.
After he finally calmed down, it was as if he returned to his senses. He quickly pulled out, immediately apologizing as you winced. He gently put you down, but your knees buckled, almost dropping to the floor, yet he caught you.
“(Y/N), I’m so sorry-“ He said, putting his softening member back in his pants. “I can’t believe I just did that to you, I really didn’t mean to, are you okay?“
“‘Toru, I’m fine.” You said to him, holding onto him tightly so you wouldn’t fall. You were still a bit lightheaded, but you were able to reassure him. “I didn’t expect it, but I’m really okay.”
“You shouldn’t have let me drink from you.” He said, tears still falling. “I’ve ruined everything, how could I get so out of-“
You interrupted him with a kiss to shut him up.
“Listen, ‘toru…” You said softly, the nickname making him calm down a bit. “You did nothing wrong. At all. I am more than fine. In fact…I really liked it.”
You watched as his ears got red. “Y-you liked…that? Did I not hurt you?”
You shook your head with a chuckle. “No. In fact…you made me feel really…really good.” You smiled, making him get even more flustered. “I’m just kind of tired. As good as you made me feel, you wore me the hell out.”
“I can carry you to your bed.” Gojo said, quick to pick you up. she then noticed your ripped leggings and destroyed panties. He gulped, feeling even more sorry. “And I can help you change into clothes that aren’t ripped…”
¨What if I tell you I want another round?¨
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auratux · 10 months
Note
Opinions on how the Bll characters would react when you tell them that you’re afraid that you’re holding them back? And you know the ‘you deserve better’ insecurities.
omgomg I love this 🥹🫶
includes: Bachira, Isagi, Kunigami, Rin, Chigiri and Nagi
warnings: angst, hurt comfort (if I labeled that right..)
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Bachira Meguru
He’d be real sad that you even thought about that in the first place
It makes him think to himself if he never gave you enough reassurance or showed his appreciation to you
He’d want you to tell him why you felt that way in the first place and hopefully, you two could come to an understanding. He was big on communicating.
“I can’t keep holding you back, Meguru,” you whisper pitifully, staring down at your hands that were enveloped in his. “You have to focus on your future.”
“What makes you think that, honey?” He asks gently. His heart aches to see you in this state and wishes he could take all your pain and put it on his shoulders. “Please tell me.”
“You’re so close to reaching your dream and becoming pro and it feels that I’m the one who is stopping you from pursuing and taking the spot on the national team. If it were my fault that you didn’t go, I’d hate myself.”
“Do I make you feel that way..?”
“No!” You shake your head. “It’s me thinking that. I just don’t want to be that person who stops you from doing what you want most.”
“Darling..” his finger curls under your chin, tilting your head up. His yellow orbs staring into your own— your irises gleaming from the tears that fall. “If anything, you’re the reason why I’m pushing to go pro. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be where I’m at. I can’t do it without you. I need you with me.”
“R-Really..? You mean that?”
“Every word. You’re my rock and I can’t do this without you. Please don’t think you’re holding me back. You’re motivating me to be the best version of myself.”
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Isagi Yoichi
At first, he doesn’t believe you and thinks you’re joking but once he notices your tear-stained face he snaps out of it.
Isagi knows what it’s like to feel like you’re holding people back — he felt that way years ago when he played with his school team.
He feels that he’s not the best comforter with words but he knows that him being there for you and listening is more than enough — and you feel that way too
"I just can't stand the fact that I feel as if I'm holding you back from what you really want, Yoi. I feel like a burden"
And an arrow pierces right through his heart. His mouth is agape as he listens to you pour your heart out on the couch in the middle of the night. Prior, you were both enjoying a movie while cuddling when suddenly you said that you couldn't do it.
"You aren't a burden.."
"Then why do I feel like one?" you whimper, your sad eyes glaring into his own. "I feel like a failure of a girlfriend who can't even let her boyfriend do what he wants!"
Just like that, you break down in front of him for the second time that night. He hates the position he put you in. He never realized or never intentionally wanted you to feel this way. For all he knew, he felt that you guys were on the same page.
His ray of sunshine that could brighten up any dull room was now surrounded by dark grey clouds of doubt and insecurity.
"come here," he mutters, placing a hand on your shoulder and running it down your back, bringing you close to him. His other hand strokes the back of your head. His lips press against the top of your head, listening to your muffled cries.
"Listen, I know we both know I'm not the best comforter, but I'll always try my best to put a smile on your face. I don't want you to have these thoughts and I'm glad you could tell me. But know, I wouldn't be here without you, and damn won't continue without you."
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Kunigami Rensuke
when you approached him with a teary expression he immediately goes into protective mode. who did it? Where were they? does he know them? doesn't matter, he's gonna get to the bottom of it
but when you tell him what's upsetting you, he goes straight to comforting you and relieving you from the doubts surrounding your mind
"I know how much you worked and how far you pushed for this and I feel that you could reach your full potential without me here. I mean, maybe you have to go on without me and start a new chapter..."
"Is that how you truly feel?"
"yes," you whisper pitifully, refusing to meet his eyes. you aren't sure what he's thinking and honestly, you want to keep it that way. it would hurt too much to find out if he's looking down at you with disgust or thinking you're insane.
"look at me."
A small noise in refusal and a shake of your head is your response. He lets out a small sign and scoots closer to you, squeezing your bare thigh. "Come on, don't be that way."
"Why aren't you mad?"
"Mad?" he asks in confusion. "Why would I be mad?" His question now caught you off guard as you snap up to look at him. His eyes soften once he notices a tear trailing down the swell of your cheek and down your chin.
"Because I just implied I'm holding you back."
"So why would I-" he starts then silences. "Do you think this is the most important thing to me?"
"Kinda yeah.."
"No," he lets out a small chuckle, a smile breaking out onto his lips. "you got it all wrong."
"How?" you whisper. "It's basically your dream."
"My dream? Football is dandy and all but it's not going to be here forever. My real dream is to be able to spend every moment with you. You're the most important thing to me. Don't think otherwise."
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Chigiri Hyoma
when you tell him how you feel, he feels guilty and gets to the point where he almost starts crying with you.
he wants nothing more than to whisk you into his arms and calm you down and remove those awful thoughts away.
eventually, he's gonna need reassurance in the end since he feels he failed you as a boyfriend
"Are you holding back because you're worried about your leg? Or you don't want to go far because of me?"
That question caught him off guard when you guys were getting ready for bed. Never in his life had Chigiri thought that you would think something as silly as that. At least he never had a reason to think that, unless he gave you that impression.
Once that question was released into the air, it led to a discussion that ended with both of you crying. You were crying because you were apologizing for asking such and felt guilty for even thinking it. He was crying due to your crying.
He hated to see it. He wasn't an emotional guy, he was quite reserved for the most part. It was always guaranteed for him to cry when you did. It was like a trigger for him.
"I'm so sorry, my love. I never wanted to make you feel insecure. In fact, I'm supposed to do the opposite and make everything feel better."
“No, Hyoma, I’m sorry for asking that question. I don’t know what came over me to ask it but I’m sorry.”
His pink locks sway with the shake of his head. His hand brings the back of your head closer to his chest and suddenly you guys are starting to rock back and forth slowly.
“You have every right to be asking questions like that. Please don't apologize for asking. I'm not upset you asked it."
"Are you sure...?"
"yes darling," he whispers, his cheek pressing up against the crown of your head. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing to me?"
"Because I wish I never gave you that impression and wish you can see how much I can accomplish with you by my side. You're not going anywhere. I need you."
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Nagi Seshiro
hearing the words come out of your mouth distracts him from his game which results in him turning it off and looking at you in disbelief
he wasn't sure if you meant it actually considering you knew how lazy he was to do anything but regardless, he gave you his full undivided attention
"you deserve better than me."
"There's no one I want. I want you."
you sign, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "you're only saying that to make me feel better."
"Yeah that's kind of what I was going for, but I truly mean it. Believe me. I only want you." Nagi reaches for your hand, tugging you closer to his body. His hand trails down to your waist, giving a gentle squeeze.
"I don't want anyone else wearing my jersey and being my personal cheerleader. It makes me feel like I'm the best player in the world."
"You mean that...?"
"Mhm," he nods. "Without you, I don't know what I would be doing if I'm being honest. I'd probably be cooped up in my room and play games."
"You do that already..."
"Yeah, but this is different, honey. I'd be doing that alone and playing football. Doesn't that sound boring?"
"Well, I guess it does," you mumble, playing with the end of his shirt.
"What I'm trying to say is that there is no one else I want. There's no one who could replace you. You're my everything. I want to do all of those things, with you. Only you."
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Itoshi Rin
at first, he doesn't know what to do.
what you're telling him reminds him of how he felt all those years ago with his brother. Unlike you, Rin's support system was no longer present and he wouldn't put you in that same position.
"I'm just confused where you got this feeling from. Am I neglecting you?"
"No, Rin. It's just when I met you, football was all you ever spoke about. Hell, it was practically your life and even after we got together you talked about it when we were alone. I just feel that you can't achieve what you want with me here..."
And there it was.
After his brother had left him behind all those years ago, it still affects him today. He never knew he dragged those feelings with him into your relationship.
No doubt Rin felt anger when his older brother left. He had some regrets and the majority of those regrets were not telling his brother how it made him feel.
Did Rin have to leave you behind in order to grasp his dreams?
Suddenly all those feelings long ago washed over him. Guilt, sadness, and anger welled up in his head to the point where he was even suffocating in his own thoughts.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, looking down at his lap. "I never realized I put those thoughts into your head."
"It's okay, Rin. I know you didn't mean it."
"No, it's not okay." He looks back up at you, eyes sadden at your sorrowful expression. He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I know how you feel and it's awful. I never wanted you to feel the same way he made me feel."
"Rin..."
"I'm not him," he starts. "I don't want you to leave. I need you here with me. I want you at every game, wearing my jersey and screaming my name. You're my biggest supporter and I wouldn't change it for the world."
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vengeful-velvette · 3 months
Note
Hey stranger!
So a couple of days ago you asked what my list would be for least to most brattiest hazbin characters would look like, and i’m incredibly curious as to what your list would be!
This concept is really fun to me omg I really want your opinion on this 🤔
Hey random stranger who I have never met before! Fancy seeing you in my little ask box.
Here are my own thoughts regarding the tier list, also ranked from least to most to build tension:
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- Charlie: I'm glad we both agree that Charlie is at the bottom of this list lol. She's just too sweet! I feel like she doesn't even think to brat either, like she thinks "we're both enjoying this, why would I tell you to stop or not listen to you when I want to?"
I also feel like Charlie really enjoys sweet sex, like she just doesn't understand how someone can enjoy being called derogatory names during sex. She probably also says "I love you" during sex and wants to hold your hand.
At the absolute worst, she'll get embarrassed (especially when you two are first dating) and put her hands over face to hide from your sweet words.
Though, I do think that she has a hidden animalistic side to her (did you see in in the finale? 😳 I'm a dom, but oh, that got to me), that I bet that even she's unaware of. I imagine that she finds this out about herself when you two are play fighting in bed and wrestling each other around. You're able to pin her to bed and as you tease her; "Not so powerful now, are you princess?" She can't help her eyes from going red as she snarls at you.
Which of course shatters all playful energy as you reinsure her that you weren't scared - you actually found it really hot. (Also, fun fact, but as much as I go crazy about Velvette, Charlie is actually my favorite Hazbin character. Idk, she's just so cheerful, hopeful, apologetic, and nice in a show filled with loveable assholes that I couldn't help but get attached. I love her, she's my baby girl.)
- Sir Pentious: I'm glad I'm not the only one who doesn't see him as the least bratty character ever, lol. He's just so precious! I imagine him as being extremely shy in bed and extremely reactive. Even the most chaste kiss can embarrass him.
I also think he isn't used to hearing compliments since he's visually very more animal-like than most sinners, so some people are little put off by his appearance. So hearing you call him your "pretty boy" and "darling snake" has him flushing and squirming.
I also doubt that he could handle any mean words. It just absolutely kills his confidence. Though I do think he will find some embarrassing enjoyment in being teased, I think that it could never cross into actual mean words. He absolutely loves to please, though, and it's honestly really cute seeing him try to pleasure you even though he doesn't really know how to. What he lacks in skill, he definitely makes up in enthusiasm, though.
- Vaggie: Man, three in a roll that's exactly the same, lol. But I totally agree with you, I don't think Vaggie is much of a brat. I think she also doesn't like not pleasuring her partner (because my girl has self worth issues), so I feel like if you told her to lie down and relax while you pleasure her, it wouldn't take long before she's trying to touch you and get you off too.
That's really the only way I can see her "bratting", and I bet that after awhile with you proving to her that you want to please her, that it brings you pleasure, she eventually relaxes.
- Lucifer: I know you put him up higher, but to me, Luci would never not crumble immediately in bed. This man has a praise kink a mile long and loves to hear you call him your "good boy". Though, there's a reason he's placed here and not all the way at the bottom.
While I do think that the first few times (or, more accurately, first 50 times) he's a blushing mess who crumbles immediately, I feel like after a while he starts to gain some self confidence (and internalized the idea that he wouldn't fuck everything up with you if he messes anything up), he feels a lot more comfortable teasing you back and bratting.
I still think it's laughably easy to get him to crumble, but an attempt is still made!
- Rosie: I know you said you didn't know where to put Roise, but I do! Gosh, I love Roise so much. Every single one of her lines is my favorite. I ultimately find her to be a rather sweet character, hence why she's pretty low on the list, but I still think she has a bite to her that can make her seem brat adjacent.
Like, if you're up for it, she will totally bite you until you don't have a single unmarked bit of flesh.
- Cherri Bomb: Now we're getting into "slightly a brat but can turn it down" territory. I definitely think that Cherri has some spark in her, but I also think that it wouldn't take much to flip her over and make her show her stomach. She's kinda explosive in that way, in the sense that she's hot and quick in the beginning, a bit very quickly flizzes out.
I also think that she's not really used to pleasure? It's implied in the Addict music video that she used to have a lover, but based on her facial expressions, I don't think she really likes him all that much? Or it's complicated, at least. But judging purely by his looks and the fact the two still aren't together, I'm assuming that he wasn't that great of a partner and Cherri isn't used to getting more pleasure than she gives.
- Husk: I think he's actually a bit of a brat. You've seen him bristle whenever someone pets him in the show, I think he's kinda predisposed to ruffling up when you call him your "pretty little kitty" or pet him (even though he really likes being your pretty little kitty). I feel like he's prone to get embarrassed very easily, and this means he can be quite bratty when you lay on the compliments a little thick.
I do think that Husk would get a little off on the humiliation aspect, but it takes him a bit to really accept this fact about himself that bratting to you is easier.
I agree that he's probably used to pleasing his partner during sex, so that probably adds to his brat score as he tries to wrestle control away from you to make you feel good, too. Though, after a while, I think Husk realizes that he feels truly comfortable with you taking care of him (while calling him your pretty kitty) and won't brat as much.
- Alastor: since Alastor is canonical asexual, and I like to include this fact, I don't think he gets the same out of sex as non-asexual characters do. What I mean by this is that he isn't so interested in the physical sexual experience, but how sex can lead to many situations he isn't familiar with. I do think he finds those situations entertaining and thus finds enjoyment in them.
For example, in @/prince-liest fic Station 66.6, Now Playing: The Irreversible Ruination of Your Self-Respect (that I think everyone should read, really it's so good), introduced me to the concept of Alastor really like prey/predator play because he has some deer instincts in him. I really, really, really love that idea!
I think Alastor likes experiences like that, ones he isn't accustomed to. Especially when he you mix that with sex, something he usually has no interest in, but adds a neat layer to the whole thing.
Because of this, I also think he's somewhat of a brat. Mainly, he really wants to see what you will do to him if he says "no", will you force him? How will you force someone like him to do something he "doesn't" want to? I can see him as a sub who likes to make their dom work to get their submission, as it feeds into his massive ego.
- Velvette: she's so used to barking orders all day long that it can be hard to turn that aspect of her "off". So she can be quite bossy during sex. She doesn't really understand that you want to take it nice and slow tonight and will start demanding that you hurry it up as you eat her out.
She thinks she knows best, so she isn't shy in voicing her opinion when she thinks you're doing something too "slow" or "softly" or you're being a "tease". She absolutely hates being called a brat, too, and huffs and puffs and pouts when you call her one.
- Vox: I'm glad we can both agree that he's extremely bratty, lol. He definitely has this image in his head that he's some big shot dom, and probably doesn't even realize he's a sub until he meets you and you take him apart bit by bit. The only reason why I haven't placed him higher is because of how fast he crumbles when you have him underneath you. I wouldn't go into too much detail because I think you already nailed how Vox can turn into a dom, to a brat, to a squirming sub.
- Lute: I know you don't see her as a brat, but I definitely do. I see her as someone who can be pretty bossy in bed. I can also see her as someone who loves being "forced" into submission. She's a fighter! She wants to wrestle into you pin her to the bed and force your fingers into her cunt before shoving your fingers into her mouth to make her "taste her desperation".
I also thinks that she gets really embarrassed by sweet words, and thinks that you're just teasing her when you say she's your "adorable little angel", and thus isn't afraid to bite back at your words.
- Adam: I'm glad he's at the top of both of our lists lol. Yeah he's a terrible brat, and he doesn't really have the excuse of "wants to please you too" or "wants to be forced into submission" like other characters. He's just a brat! He wants all the pleasure for himself, and he wants it right now! I feel like the biggest struggle is actually getting him to try and please you. (Maybe you even have to lock him up in a cock cage to get him to behave - woah who said that?)
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Sorry, this is kinda half "tier rank of least to most bratty characters" and half "random smut headcanons I have". Also some of these characters got wayyyyy longer parts because I have!!! Lots of Thoughts!!! About them!!!
Anyway, I hope you like my tier list!!
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ddarker-dreams · 11 months
Note
Scarlet ribbons but she is the one telling the boys how she thinks they are super pretty/handsome/etc.
(Ps love your writing sm, it cheered me up alot after i had a rough day yesterday uwu)
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WAHH WHAT AN ADORABLE IDEA.... it's what they deserve tbh... my favs from part 5 are like the only people who get to be happy on this blog hrjktmger and i'm so glad that my writing helped cheer you up, i hope that the past few days have been treating you better!!
Reader is referred to as girlfriend here!
[Scarlet Ribbons index]
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Giorno
He gets the cutest blush that he tries to hide by covering his face with his hand and clearing his throat. Passione's Don, who remains unwavering in the face of death, can't handle his beloved heaping praises upon him. No matter how suave he may act, your relationship is his first foray into romance. There's a slight shakiness to his voice when he returns your compliment. It doesn't help that there's this glint in your eye that tells him you'll be using this newfound knowledge to your advantage. He supposes it's only fair, considering his penchant for teasing you whenever possible, but maybe he'll go easy on you after learning how it feels. That isn't to say he dislikes your kind words — more so that the temporary loss in his composure is a strange sensation. Strange, yet not unwelcome.
Bruno
Your serious Capo melts on the spot at such ardent praise — he can feel Cupid's arrow piercing him in real time. He takes a moment to recollect himself, before wondering aloud what brought this on. When you point out that he compliments you all the time without any real reason, he puts his hands up in defense, conceding to your argument. If you're in public, he'll limit his response to a warm thank you. Should you be away from prying eyes, however, he'll pull you into an embrace. It serves a dual purpose. You won't be able to see the pink dusting his cheeks and he gets to wrap you up in his arms. You really are the light of his life, he'll tell you. As unconventional as the lifestyle you both lead is, it's moments like this where he delights in a shred of normalcy.
Fugo
His overactive brain temporarily short circuits. Fugo is the type to blush up to his ears, no matter how vehemently he denies it. This poor guy considers you infinitely out of his league and immediately assumes you broke the espresso machine or something and want to soften the blow by using flattery. He sputters for a few moments before his tongue recalls how to properly form coherent words. He'll downright ask what angle you're trying to use here. He isn't used to receiving compliments without the other person having an end goal in mind. Once it's clear you just felt like letting him know, he takes deep breaths to calm his heart, which he can hear thumping loudly. Fugo then starts saying that objectively speaking, you are far more aesthetically pleasing, and starts lifting off some mathematical terms that fly over your head.
Mista
Mista points at himself and says "Me?" just to make sure he heard you right. This is a big moment for him. It isn't that he doubts your physical attraction to him, but hearing it confirmed out loud in your sweet voice is a real treat. He'll sling an arm around your shoulder and drops the line, "You're not so bad yourself", because he thinks it sounds cool. Mista wants to maintain his laidback air, but when you say stuff like that, his stomach does soumersalts and his hands start sweating. He has this big goofy grin and confident gait the remainder of the day. The one trade off (in his opinion) is that the Pistols start swarming about, insisting that you pay them equal praise. Chaos ensues until you appease their neediness for your validation. It is his soul made manifest, after all.
Narancia
Narancia does a little fist pump and starts cheering internally. Although, if you called him pretty, he might pause and get petulant. He totally exudes machismo, he'll insist. He'll warm up to the compliment eventually, though, but he won't admit it. Regardless, he's hype about it. His energy skyrockets the rest of the day. He's all over you, peppering your face with kisses, picking you up and twirling you around, he's on cloud nine. He considers it his personal mission to shower you in praise and this only reaffirms the creed. He'll go up to random people in public, point at you, and say stuff like, "Isn't she so cute? That's my girlfriend, yeah, that pretty lady over there. Do you see her? Just look at her, she's amazing, the coolest ever, did you know she—" and on and on he'll go.
Abbacchio
Similar to Fugo, he initially assumes that you're trying to butter him up. He'll wryly ask what you intend to cajole him into doing. When you huff and insist that this is a no strings attached compliment, he'll study you, since he knows the many tells that signify you're lying. Upon realizing you're being genuine, he'll grumble a few words of gratitude and leave it at that. Don't let his composure fool you — his heart is pounding away like he's a hormonal teenager again. He will lie awake that night, your words repeating on a loop without his Stand's assistance, floating in this warm and fuzzy sensation. Abbacchio might not be the best with his words, but he swears an oath to compliment you properly the next time he sees you.
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
Text
cold nights // part five
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.7k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: this one got me y'all i won't lie-
series masterlist // playlist
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"Is everything okay? You look upset." You ask Coryo, mere moments after he joined your side of waiting tributes and mentors to tour the arena. How had you seen it so quickly? He curses himself mentally for making his distress so obvious.
For you, it was how pale he looked. All the colour had been drained from his face, and you doubted that was from him running up to you to catch up. He looked too fit to be sick just from running. The crease in his brow and bloodshot eyes certainly didn't help, either.
"Nothing." He replies quickly as the line starts to move. "How are you doing today?"
"Well." You nod, allowing the shift in topic. You wouldn't want to press him, you just didn't want whatever he is upset about to be because of you. "I have been reading. It helps."
"Oh, good. I'm glad." He hums, looking down at you for the first time.
"Thank you, again. I hope it wasn't too much of a hassle to get."
"Not at all." He shakes his head, returning your ever-present smile as best as he can within an hour of witnessing the possible death of another one of his classmates. Truth is, it was hard to get Romeo and Juliet for you. It wasn't commonplace in the Capitol, clearly, and he only knew one person, more broadly, one family who had ever so much as set foot in the Districts.
"Coriolanus! What a pleasure! Please, come in." Sejanus's mother greets him at the door, stepping out of the way and gesturing for him to enter.
"Mrs. Plinth, how are you?" He asks politely, stepping in and wiping his shoes on the doormat.
"I'm good! Yourself?"
"Good." He nods.
"Come eat, I just finished up some baking." She walks back into the home, and he follows suit. He's shocked when he's led into the kitchen, and she pats a stool at the kitchen island for him to sit. "Would you like some tea?" She offers, already cutting a slice of pie for him. It was still steaming. Still warm. His stomach growled just at the sight as he sat down. Typically one wouldn't host guests in your kitchen, but she was District. Old habits die hard, he supposed.
"Please." Coryo smiles at her gratefully.
"How is your mentorship going?" She asks, and he can tell by her refusal to make eye contact that it's purely to make conversation. She likely shared some perspectives with her son, but she was too mature to state such unpopular opinions in a way her son was not. "Sejanus told me you got paired with the girl from District Twelve. He really likes her. Said she's very smart. Very kind."
"She is. She's lovely." Coryo nods as she slides a plate in front of him, handing him a fork moments later. "I think it's going well."
"It's such a shame..." She mutters, clicking her tongue and shaking her head as she puts the tea on the kettle on the burner in between them. "Anyway," She catches herself, moving on quickly. "What can we do for you? Shall I call for my son?"
"Y/N is the reason I'm here, actually." He replies, ignoring her comment. Admittedly, when it came to you, he agreed with Mrs. Plinth and her son. It is such a shame.
"Oh?"
"Yes. I would like to get her a copy of her favourite book. I was hoping you might have it, I've never heard of it before."
"We have a library." She nods. "I can certainly take a look, what is it called?"
"It's very, very old, so no worries if you don't have it, but it's called 'Romeo and Juliet'." He tells her, eyes gleaming with hope. If they didn't have it, he wasn't sure what he would do.
"Oh! That is familiar to me." She smiles. "I haven't read it since I was your age, but I'm sure we still have it kicking around here somewhere. Do you mind keeping an eye on the tea while I take a look?"
"Of course." Coryo nods, wanting nothing less than to make his own tea as a guest in someone's home, but he has to do what he must to get you that book.
As soon as she wipes her hands on her apron and walks out of the kitchen, he hears her voice again. "Sejanus! Your friend is here!"
Internally, he rolls his eyes. He didn't want to see his classmate, but he was in his home. Maybe Sejanus would handle his tea, at least. He took this opportunity to start eating the warm pie in front of him, he hated people seeing him eat, but he was making all kinds of sacrifices today. Maybe he should ask if he could take a piece for you.
"Oh. Coryo." Sejanus says, walking into the kitchen. "What brings you?"
"Y/N." He replies. "I'd like to get a book for her. Your mother says she has it."
"Ah." Sejanus hums, slotting himself into the seat next to Coryo. So much for the tea. "What book?"
"Romeo and Juliet. It's her favourite." Coryo explains. "She's going to do a monologue from it in her interview."
"At least she'll talk to you." Sejanus sighs. "Marcus won't even look at me."
"Well, Y/N is nicer than most." Coryo says, much more eager to talk about you than Sejanus and his problems.
"She's something, huh?" Sejanus smiles, taking the bait.
"Yes. Very intelligent."
"I think it will be easy for her to get donations. Even if people don't know what she's talking about." Sejanus elaborates. "She's pleasant to look at, and the people here are so shallow that that might be the only thing that matters."
Pleasant, to Coriolanus, was an understatement. Surely, you were the most beautiful thing the Districts had to offer. That didn't mean that Sejanus or anyone should be valuing you based on that, though. Your mind was just a bonus. It would work wonders in humanizing you to the people of the Capitol. It had certainly worked on him.
"I hope it's more than that." He replies, and truth be told, it's a lie. He doesn't want anyone to look at you the way he does, but if it meant people sending money so he could save your life, so be it.
"I do too, but it's doubtful. Regardless, she'll do well. You'll have lots of donations to work with." Sejanus says, attempting to comfort his friend's worries. "My ma will convince my father to send some for her. I heard them talking about it, she wants to help you."
"Is that not a conflict of interest?"
"Maybe." Sejanus shrugs. "They can't donate to Marcus, obviously, but Ma really likes her. Asks about her every day. She's rooting for both of them. The problem is they can't both win."
Coryo would take it. One hundred percent he would take it, but it makes his heart crack even more.
"Here! Here it is!" His mother calls out as she returns to the kitchen, excitedly placing the book on the counter next to Coryo, patting the top of it.
"Thank you, Mrs. Plinth." He sighs in relief, picking up the old book in his hands.
"Please, call me Ma. We're so far past formalities." She grins, leaning against the counter across from them as the tea starts to whistle. Coryo would sooner die than call her 'Ma', but once again, he would do just about anything for you at this point. "I hope she enjoys it."
"I'll get it back to you before the games." Coryo promises.
Her smile fades to a sad one as she pours out the tea into a mug for him. "Yes, well, feel free to hold onto it as long as you need to, dear. I have more books than I could read in a lifetime."
"I did promise her I would read it." He matches her sentiment. "So I'll get into it after the games. I doubt I'll have any free time until then."
"Keep it. It's yours." She smiles.
"Thank you." He says again, flipping briefly through some of the pages. It was old, practically falling apart in his hands, but he knew you would take good care of it. And after you, he would do the same.
"I hid it with the blanket." You tell him. "I sure hope it doesn't rain..." You mumble, looking behind you to check how clear the sky currently is. So far, the book would be safe.
You're careful, hesitant even as you approach the turnstiles ahead of you. You wish that it wouldn't speak when you walk through it, but you know it will as you watch every other tribute ahead of you push through the metal gate.
"Enjoy the show!" You wince at the words, then you're on the other side. That wasn't so bad, but the statement echoes endlessly in your mind, bouncing off every other thought you've had today as you carry on into the open arena, allowing the other tributes and mentors to enter behind the two of you as a camera is shoved in your face and you smile, giving it a small wave.
"Well, hello there." You grin, looking past the camera to the man holding it. "How are you today?"
You don't get an answer as one of the mentors is yanking him away to point the camera at someone else. As you look around, instinctively, you step closer to Coryo's side as you gaze around the arena. "Gosh, It sure is... small." You mutter, swallowing the lump in your throat as reality comes crashing down on you in the dark space.
He grabs your hand.
Coriolanus has always thought the arena was huge. From his memories at the top of the stands, it did look big, but down here, on the floor, it did feel a lot smaller. Especially when he forced himself to imagine that it would be him who would be killed in this very room, not even a week from today.
There was nowhere to hide, he knew that, but now, the idea scared him. What would you do? He doesn't even have any good advice to give you.
You jump as the door slams shut behind you, turning quickly to look. Even Coryo looks scared, and you pull yourself closer to him. Had they lied to you? Were the games starting today? You didn't want to say goodbye yet. To the world, your family, to Coriolanus. You weren't ready- but would you ever be?
That's when the windows start to slide open above you, letting the light back in.
"Welcome to the arena for the Tenth Annual Hunger Games. Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy." The voice over the loudspeakers is reassuring to you, but you know that's only temporary.
Coryo stays silent as he looks around. Clearly, you were ahead of him, though, already pulling on his hand in the direction of some of the other tributes. He only slightly resisted, confused as to what was happening, but he would let you have this ounce of freedom to do what you pleased.
"Hi!" You smile hopefully at Marcus as he's standing with Sejanus. "I think we're supposed to be forming alliances. I trust you, Marcus."
Your candidness almost shocks Coryo, but he quickly realizes what you're doing. You have almost no shot without somewhere to hide, so your best bet is to find allies. He didn't want you to do this, but now he sees few other options. He makes brief eye contact with Sejanus as Marcus ignores you, just walking away. Coryo starts scanning the rest of the tributes, suddenly focussed on who would be your best strategic option.
"Hey." Coryo whispers, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "If you want allies, talk to them." He points over to Reaper and Dill. He could see that Reaper was strong, and Dill was clearly a liability. You could slot right into the middle as far as skillsets go; he could defend you and she was no threat.
"Okay. Come on." You nod, dropping his hand to head toward them. Coryo looked around on the way, trying to see what other mentors were doing. What he was supposed to be doing, but most of them were just talking to each other, others only to their tribute. There was no right action, but what the two of you were doing was different. That was good.
"Dill, Reaper!" You smile as you get closer, giving a slight wave. Immediately, Reaper is looking past you and glaring at your mentor, tucking Dill behind his back and shaking his head. "Oh." You stop, looking between the two of them and the glare that Coryo is matching. "Never mind, then. I'll leave you to it."
Coryo is already trying to find another option for you, it wasn't looking good. You turn back to him, sighing before plastering a smile on your face, trying not to look too discouraged. "Okay, well..." You look around. "Oh! Lamina. She's lovely." You grab his hand again, but he stays in place as he watches the interaction she's having with Coral and the team she's already forming as they're actively casting Lamina out in favour of the boy from her District.
"Coryo?"
"Not her. Them." He explains, pointing them out to you.
"Oh, I don't know..." You're hesitant, and he understands why, but that's not an option. Without Reaper, numbers would be your biggest safety.
"Safety in numbers." He mumbles, overriding your reluctance and starting to walk their way, pulling you with him.
"Oh, okay. Yeah." You agree, subconsciously cowering behind him. "Actually, Coryo, I'm really not comf-" You speak up, trying to stop his crusade before you're jumping from the sound of an explosion above you.
You both freeze, looking up as the ceiling begins to collapse down on you, more blasts making your ears ring.
Quickly, Coryo is changing directions, running in the opposite direction and pushing you ahead of him as you follow your feet, sprinting toward the light at the door over the shaking ground. You don't last long, stumbling over some already fallen debris and falling. "We gotta go, we gotta go- Y/N, get up!" Coryo is ahead of you now, and you can hardly hear his yelling even though he's right in your face, pulling you back to your feet.
Just as you regain your footing side-by-side, Coryo is the next to fall. As he takes you down with him with the grip on your wrist, you quickly realize it's because a beam fell on his back as the two of you stumbled forward. The flames spreading to the back of his red uniform were the first thing to clue you in.
In your panic and heavy breathing, you can still see his lips moving. You're already trying to pull the bars off of him when he first even gets the chance to scream for help. You groan, inaudible even to you over the commotion as you put all your weight into pulling it back, hoping he's not already severely burned, but you're sure he is as the flames burn the metal rod in your hand.
Your grip slips and you fall back into another piece of the fallen ceiling that surrounded you, apparently sharp as a protruding piece of metal pierces your upper arm. You yelp, looking down as the blood begins to pour from the wound, but you ignore it to keep trying to free your mentor. Then, you're being pulled back by your dress. "The gate is open! The gate is open, come on!" It's Marcus, and by the time you even turn to look at him he's running toward the open door, motioning for you to follow. He gives up quickly as two of the other tributes follow. You don't even hear the gunshots that knock them down. He's trying to escape. You could escape.
You hesitate, looking back down at the boy in front of you who you can see is choking to try and breathe. Someone else slides in at your side as you continue to pull, but they're pushing you back. "Y/N! Run!" Sejanus shouts in your face, quickly removing his hands from you to grab the beam where you were just holding it. "I've got him- Go!"
"My honest, best advice?" Your conversation from the other day immediately comes to mind. "Figure out a way to escape."
You frantically look between the door and the boys in front of you, trying to decide. You have to decide right now. Right now, right now, right-
It's an easy decision. You grab the hot bars again and start pulling with every bit of strength you can muster.
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if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!
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alicerosejensen · 1 month
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I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.
If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️
I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.
I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.
There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.
Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.
the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.
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If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.
Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.
Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…
Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.
In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.
Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.
This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.
no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.
You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.
But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"
He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.
For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.
You really didn't give him a chance.
The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.
He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.
You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.
“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”
Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.
You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.
On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.
Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.
“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.
Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.
You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.
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pinkgy · 6 months
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Hello, a new writing blog with great writing!
How about some NSFW headcanons for the paradise lost demons (whb)? I'm not sure if you write for them since the request rules don't really specify it, so feel free to just ignore this if you don't.
Have a nice day!
Hi Anon !
Yes, I do write for every character from every of the fandoms listed in my request post.
I’m sorry if my headcanons might lack a bit of accuracy or are not as specific as the ones I wrote for the kings, we don’t know much yet about the Paradise lost demons so I’m writing this based of on my opinion, some investigation and the little content we’ve seen in the game so far about them.
Hope you like it and thank you so much for your request♡
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𝗪𝗛𝗕 !
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗧
𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦
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GN!Reader + Reader has a pussy + Slight mentions of She/Her pronouns in Buer’s.
𝗖𝗪: Overstimulation, Edging, Dacryphilia, Shibari, Toys (Vibrators), Praising, Degradation, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Lingerie, Somnophilia.
𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗥
⇒ He's a Top without a doubt, there's no debating in this, he would get mad at you if you dared to suggest the idea of him being a sub.
⇒ Lucifer is actually pretty sweet, yes, he does a lot of questionable things while "pleasuring you" but he never does anything that hurt you too much, you have a safe word and many other ways where you can communicate to him any discomfort you might have and he Iso gives the best aftercare.
⇒ He's into shibari, this mostly because this way he can have you all to his mercy so he can toy with you for hours until your face is covered in tears.
⇒ He's the worst when he overstimulates you or when he edges you, by doing that he forgets any kind of limits you have set for him, you can beg him to stop, he won't, the more you cry, the more he does it. If he is eating your pussy while he aggressively thrusts his fingers in and out and you are sobbing and telling him to stop, he is going to do it faster, harder and way for aggresively.
⇒ There's no such a thing as normal sex with him, he's into a lot of shit, one crazier than the other, and he's also pretty good at analyzing you and he can figure out pretty quickly the things you like, and Lucifer will also be into those things.
⇒ "You say that it's too much ? Well, this cunt tells me overwise, and those beautiful tears all over your face don't seem to be out of pain, so don't lie to me and give me one more
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗕𝗔𝗦
⇒ Marbas confuses me, he technically cant be freed from his restraints without Lucifers permission because his libido and violence are to dangerous for EVERYONE, but for the sake of this headcanon, lets say that he's not that bad when he's free. (ill include some headcanons where he's tied up tho, thats literally his kink)
⇒ Marbas is a Top, the fact that he's into being tied up does not means he subs, he definitely doesn't.
⇒ He would tie you up if you begged enough or as a punishment, but you better appreciate it, it doesn’t happen as often as you’d think.
⇒ He loves when you use toys on him while hes tied up, specially those wired bullet vibrators, he's soooo into being defenseless in front of you.
⇒ When he's tied up he loves being overstimulated, suck his dick nonstop or furiously rub it it up and down or play with his dick head, the sight of your face covered in his cum makes him go crazy.
⇒ But in spite of this headcanons, he tops, a l w a y s, you can have him tied up and ruining him with a bunch of bullet vibrators attached to his dick, he's dominating you somehow.
⇒ "Do i look that weak to you ? speed up that vibrator right fucking now or else im not fucking you"
𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗫
⇒ I don’t know why, but he gives switch vibes, but is leaning towards subbing.
⇒ Morax likes to be taken care of but not to the point of being a pillow prince.
⇒ Omg praise him please, he’ll become the whiniest boy out there, tell him how beautiful he is when he cums or how cute his moans are.
⇒ He’ll do anything for you, if you want him to completely submit to you, he will, and if you want him to fuck you senseless and completely rail you, he will, Morax is the definition of being into what you’re into.
⇒ As his kink says, he’s into body modifications, if you have one, he’ll go crazy, and if you don’t, that’s fine for him. But if you wanted to get one, even if it’s temporary, just to please him, you’ll drive him crazy, not because of the modification, but because of the intention.
⇒ “Just tell me, whatever you want me to do, just tell me, I’m yours, every part of me is your property, I’m here to please you and only you”
𝗕𝗨𝗘𝗥
⇒ He’s neither a dom nor a sub, but he’s not a switch, he just likes to feel good and likes to make you feel good, but he tends to get a bit dominant sometimes.
⇒ Wear fluffy lingerie, bonus points if it’s animal themed. (I don���t see him being into pet play tho, but who knows)
⇒ Buer is a box full of surprises, you never know his next move, he can be kissing you in the most romantic way possible, and then suddenly he’s spitting in your mouth.
⇒ Buer has something that makes me believe that he’s into somnophilia, but receiving it, he likes to challenge you to make him cum without waking him up, and the feeling of having his pants wet with his cum makes him go crazy.
⇒ He would love a pillow princess, to just please her and only her for hours, that’s a big fantasy of his.
⇒ “We have all the time in the world, so for this night and every night you want, so let me be the one that makes you feel the best you’ve ever felt”
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jhoneybees · 14 days
Text
How could you not find him attractive in his later years?
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Look at that smile🥺
Alright, if you all know what this post is going to be about then that's great, for those who don't then you may scroll past or keep reading.
I definitely don't want my blog to become ranting about drama and disagreements or anything, I'm just willing to share my opinion on this matter.
Please just ignore if I don't make sense but there has been something going on about sexualizing Elvis in his later years, some people don't like him in his 'fatter' stage which is fine, understandable, not your type, but to go tell people that it's disgusting and disrespectful to sexualize him.
One thing, those people you're saying that to they love him in so many ways than one. Definitely not just because of his looks and two it's not just Elvis that gets sexualized.
For those who like him for his looks, that's great, I think he's a sexy, breedable, adorable, sweet man as well.
Anyways, it's not very respectful for you to force something like this on others. If you don't agree with what we're doing then sorry to be the break of bad news but that's just too bad.
I don't know about others but I really do think for us to love him even in his later years, it would make him so happy and loved. I've read somewhere he's had a face lift and you know why? Of course, it's to keep being good looking on screen and pictures but it's also because he was insecure.
Now just think about that, would you like it if people are laughing and calling you names for your weight and figure even though your mind is already filled with terrible self doubting thoughts and not only that but having awful, energy draining health conditions?
And how about even after you pass there are people, forty odd years into the future, doing the same thing? Saying that you 'lost your good looks' because of your growing, wider figure?
Would you like that?
To me it seems like you're just being disrespectful.
I just think we gotta support each other with what we like, love and enjoy and I really do think Elvis would think the same.
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So, i don't know how you would react at this BUT, i just read all of your posts and i think you're really amazing while answering ask's, so i just thought it might be good to share with you a ( kind of? ) headcanon that i have about Silver.
Like, i don't know if it actually makes sense. And pardon me if there's any grammar erros, i'm quite bad at english.
BUT i just feel that he is pretty "incapable" of truly expressing himself, unless it's when his knight mode are on, but even in this mode, has some difficulties. ( and by incapable i mean he has some pretty relevant difficulties with expressing himself in a sentimental way ).
I just have this sort of feeling that his creation with two non-human ( and one half-human ) beings as he was human have a large impact on him mentally, specially because Malleus and Lilia are not the most open ones in terms of sentimentality and Sebek is just bad at this as them and also have some issues with expressing himslef and being sociable.
Like, despite all the efforts Lilia put to make sure Silver grew up to be a good person, he couldn't really be that good on the social and emotional part and Malleus weren't the perfect teacher of it either, not even Sebek. So Silver just grew up subconsciously trying to follow their behaviors and manners, while the culture from Biar Valley also moulded his way.
( and I also see Lilia as someone who hides his true feelings behind this mask of energetic and teasingly playful guy. )
The sleep curse might had put some extra inner barrier in Silver's mind, as or he is completely afraid to trying be sociable or he just are indiferent to this because he don't actually think he is capable of something like that due to the curse making him sleep anytime plus all the baggage of being raised in a country were his specie in not viewied with good eyes and being raised by people he eventually knew that would live a lot many years than him, that compared to them, he's really just a common human with a short lifespan. I doubt this hasn't fucked up his mind.
I don't remember if it's actually mentioned something detailed about his relationship with his club partners but, i do think he can be respectful and chit chat for a few minutes, but just having a long, deep and intimate conversation with someone might be too overwhelming to him, since he practically lived his entire life having constant interactions only with his family. He's just caught in this cycle where his adopted dad hide his true feelings, Malleus pretty much do this too and Sebek probably doesn't even think about how he really feels, so he just follow them and lock himself in his own bubble.
So, i really don't know if this make any kind of sense. But i would enjoy if you share your opinion on this silly headcanon i have.
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Hello and thank you for sharing your thoughts ^^
I originally wanted to keep this short, but I kept having more and more thoughts and continuously added to the post until it became an absolute behemoth 😅 I still feel like I could have said even more, but I’ll leave it at this for now.
Please look below the cut to read my response!! (Note: the focus will be mainly on Silver and Lilia’s relationship, as those two are usually the ones described as father and son + we know the most about those two as Silver grew up.)
Mmm… Firstly, I don’t know if “being incapable of truly expressing himself” is something that’s exclusive to Silver; this is a pretty consistent trait among the prideful students of NRC. They demonstrate this in different ways (Rook is secretive, the twins claim they would throw Azul away if he becomes boring, Jamil represses his desire to be free while serving Kalim, Cater does not outright tell Trey he wants to be besties but implies he wishes Trey were as close with him as he is with Riddle, etc.). Very few are willing to allow themselves to be vulnerable with one another, and this feeds into a lack of “deep and intimate conversations” amongst all of them, not just between Silver and his peers.
That being said, I do not believe that Silver generally has issues expressing himself. In fact, I would actually argue for the opposite: that Silver is one of the more open students (at least when it comes to his feelings). He has talked about his deep love and respect for his father on multiple occasions. He has many animal companions whom he communicates with. He has given various speeches about how he wishes for a world in which living beings of all races and live happily together. (This last example was vital in Fairy Gala: If; it was Silver’s heartfelt words that moved the pixies to return what they had originally taken from NRC.) He has said on more than one occasion that be is thankful for his father and owes him a debt, that he must somehow “repay” Lilia. He becomes concerned about not being alert and that others may think of him as rude for falling asleep mid-conversation and seeks to correct this. He also worries about his classmates thinking of him as scary and emotionless (and, again, tries to solve this problem). He sees the best in others, he lets them know it (for example, assuming that Jamil is worried about Kalim in Endless Halloween Night), and he gives earnest advice. He understands that Sebek’s abrasiveness is a way of hiding his embarrassment and expressing gratitude, knowing that, deep down, Sebek is caring—so Silver is patient with him and asks others to do the same. He has no trouble asking for help either (something which the other NRC boys have trouble doing). He openly demonstrates awareness of his shortcomings (such as how he always falls asleep at bad times) and is happy just knowing that others may lend an ear to him. He has a lot of tenderness that’s hard to find at NRC. Silver is simply earnest and speaks his mind, even if it can come off as blunt or perhaps a naive way of responding to the world. He has a very simple way of thinking and forming opinions (Vil asks him what’s the most beautiful? “You,” Silver says. Azul asks him what he thought of the food? “Good,” Silver says.)—and his lack of facial expression certainly doesn't help in conveying his emotions, no matter how earnest they may be.
The one major time Silver actively demonstrates repressing his emotions is in book 7, when he stows away his true sadness for the sake of seeing his father off with a smile. He breaks down when he’s away from the party and with Malleus, venting his frustrations about himself and how he cannot even fulfill his father’s final wish. Silver apologizes to Malleus for his “unsightly behavior”, referring to his tears, indicative of a negative emotion, as something to be ashamed of. This, in of itself, is not odd. There’s always a handful of subjects a person may feel uncomfortable talking about even with their friends and family. Maybe it’s finances, personal flaws, or failures. For Silver, it’s in relation to his life span and “owing” Lilia. That’s nothing unusual; most people are not willing to divulge everything to their loved ones; there’s typically something negative or shameful held back. (For example, Deuce wouldn’t be so eager to tell his mom about the violent outbursts he had at school since he’s trying to reform himself. I doubt the OB boys would be eager to tell their own families about their overblots, etc.)
What I deem to be Silver's greatest strength is his empathy, and I think that comes across in how he communicates. When he's talking with others, Silver is entirely emotionally capable, willing to hear them out, and even lend his support. Where he falters is when it specifically comes to matters of his place within his family (which is not present most of the time; most of the time, Silver is in that default empathetic state). This is a point of insecurity for Silver, and it is a large part of his character arc in book 7.
One can say Silver repressing his emotions related to this occurrence is a learned response due to a combination of things. For one, he doesn't want to disappoint his father by ruining his celebration with tears. (Silver cares a lot about others, usually prioritizing them over himself, whether it's putting their needs over his own or literally throwing himself in harm's way to defend them.) For another, Silver, as a human, may have developed insecurities or a complex from having grown up in Briar Valley, a place known to have a very low human population AND a history of war with humans (meaning it's possible that humans are discriminated against). I don't know if the "culture" of Briar Valley had an impact on Silver's communication, since we ourselves are not fully aware of what this "culture" is or how people normally express themselves. Just because fae can be standoffish to outsiders doesn't mean fae are standoffish to other fae when Silver happens to be in the immediate vicinity. We don't really know if Silver has previously expressed worries about the difference in his life span versus those of fae either, but I'd imagine this is something he had to learn for himself and come to terms with, much like the discovery of his adoption. I wouldn’t go so far as to say this "fucked him up" since it wasn't touched on or implied prior to book 7. Because of this, I don't get the impression that it's deeply concerning to Silver until the point it became relevant for his father and paying back the "debt" Silver feels he owes. (Then again, I acknowledge that perhaps these thoughts were not shared due to Silver's... unique style of communication.) I’m not going to speculate about the sleeping curse since we don’t fully understand how it works and I don’t want to make assumptions while I’m still uninformed.
While it’s true that Silver had limited interactions with people outside of Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek in his childhood, I wouldn’t attribute all of Silver’s characteristics to “he learned how to repress his emotions from them”. There were many other factors that contributed to the kind of person Silver would eventually become. His level-headedness comes in part from having to “grow up” fast since Lilia lacks the homemaking skills to look after him. Silver had to learn to cook (have you tasted Lilia’s food?) and clean (have you seen Lilia’s room?) in his place, as well as look after their cottage home whenever Lilia left on trips. He’s the calm that balances out his father. I’m not going to comment on Malleus since I’m not sure how frequently he visited Silver (which would impact the degree to which he affects him). Sebek, however, is also someone that Silver spent a lot of time with because 1) his grandpa already knows Lilia and 2) there are very few kids Silver’s age in Briar Valley. The circumstances just worked out that way. This also exposes Silver to Sebek and his family, as they looked after him on occasions when Lilia could not. Sebek’s two older siblings and parents, then, are also people Silver could look to as models. Otherwise, he seems to have mostly lived in their forest cabin and interacting with few living beings aside from the animals. He states that he rarely went to the capital (which we learn is because Lilia is banned from there) and that he didn’t even go to a middle school (implying Lilia home schooled him before NRC), so… yeah, he’s mainly isolated in the woods. This grants Silver a lot of time to slow down, to be introspective, and to consider both his own feelings and those of others. His awkwardness, then, may come from his social circle being small and not having an opportunity to interact with people beyond it. This creates a lack of awareness for how he may come off to others, as he’s so used to how acclimated Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek are to his usual demeanor. Silver doesn’t realize that his stoic expressions can read as unfriendly to others.
I think there are flaws in saying that Lilia is the type of person to hide his true emotions behind a smile: it’s true from the understanding of the PLAYER because we’ve learned in book 7 that Lilia kept secrets from Diasomnia. Silver’s origins, about the war, why he’s in a hurry to leave early, how Malleus hatched, etc. We as the players understand that Lilia tries to hide his own pain and suffering from those he loves. But… the issue is that Silver doesn’t know this (so how could he “copy” Lilia’s penchant for covering up his true emotions if he never picked up on the initial deception?). Silver fully trusts his father and does not really suspect Lilia of hiding anything from him (excluding maybe the occasional prank). Additionally, I would not conflate keeping secrets and hiding own’s emotions with discouraging sentimentality in Silver. Lilia has hard conversations with his son (like in book 7 right before he handed over the ring from Silver’s deceased parents), and that shows some degree of emotional intelligence and vulnerability. Isn’t he modeling a healthy way of dealing with feelings here? Isn’t Lilia right here, right now, telling Silver how proud he is of him? Lilia is able to be vulnerable too in these moments, regardless of what other secrets he may keep.
Another discrepancy is that both Lilia and Sebek (the ones whom Silver probably spent the most time with as a child, since Malleus had to stay in the castle and be trained and tutored) tend to “hide” their real feelings with very emotional methods (ie covering up one feeling with another feeling)—yet Silver himself didn’t learn to use do the same thing. If we include Malleus in the count, he’s the more consistently “emotionally repressed” character but still has his outbursts of rage and upset. Silver does not “copy” this either. He and Malleus are both calm, yes, but they come from different backgrounds which could breed this calm personality, not necessarily from one mimicking the other. (Silver was mostly in his cottage, Malleus is as in his castle.) This is, again, why I say that it would be faulty to attribute how Silver acts in large part or entirely to Lilia, Sebek, and Malleus. He has been impacted by far more than them and does not pull all of his knowledge on how to socialize from his dorm mates.
The last point I’d like to bring up is that wearing your emotions on your sleeve isn’t necessarily a good thing all the time, nor is it the only way one can express themselves. You can show your love through acts (Silver often thinks about what he can do to best support his father) or gifts too (Silver mentions Lilia puts a lot of thought into picking gifts for everyone). From this angle, we can see that Lilia (Silver’s primary caregiver and guardian) has demonstrated and taught healthy ways of expressing one’s feelings too, and how Silver is capable of reciprocating in his own ways.
Now, am I saying that Lilia and the others were perfect in modeling emotions to Silver? Obviously, no. Misunderstandings happened—but what’s important is learning and growing from them. For example, Lilia failed to understand that Silver might be hurt to learn that he was adopted and thus Lilia acted in a callous way by laughing. But given how their relationship in present day is not strained, we can surmise that Lilia and Silver made up and that Lilia has become more attuned to his son’s sensitivities (as Lilia states that he can easily read Silver’s emotions). Lilia says as much in Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, telling Malleus that humans have different sensitivities than fae do. A lot of the values Silver had—such as the importance of unity among the races—must have also been instilled in him through Lilia and extensive talks. Again though, Lilia’s not perfect and sometimes he acts in ways which still earn Silver’s ire (Endless Halloween Night is a big one). Malleus himself also makes multiple mistakes when interacting with humans (overstepping with his powers, not paying attention to times, scaring them with his presence, not making an effort himself to reach out). Sebek regularly insults them despite being half human himself. (That’s a whole other can of worms; I’d recommend this analysis for my thoughts on Sebek and his whole deal.) But what I really love about the Diasomnia found family unit is that they balance out each other's flaws really well. Silver's empathy is a great asset to the group, as he's often the one settling disputes between Sebek and his peers or apologizing for Lilia's mischief. He's simultaneously the "heart" of the group and, to some extent, also the "brains" when the others need to be reeled in.
Ultimately, I don’t agree with the suggestion that Silver is “afraid of trying to be sociable”, is “indifferent to socializing”, or that “he doesn’t think he is capable of socializing”. I don’t think Silver would find long, deep, intimate conversations “overwhelming” either (unless, of course, it relates to his own particular insecurities. Recall that he has given those speeches about his hopes for all races to be united; that requires a degree of vulnerability on his part and Silver laid it out smoothly. Lilia has also had tough conversations with him too!). Silver is not a socially anxious person; I think it would be more accurate to say that he comes off in the eyes of his peers as someone who is hard to approach because of how stone-faced he is. Silver himself does not fear or shy away from socializing. He just speaks in a plain way to get his point across and because that’s how he communicates—it’s not the result of him wanting to close the conversation ASAP so he can get away. His sleepiness is another factor to consider (Silver worries others think of it as impolite), but it never outright discourages him from speaking to people to avoiding social interactions altogether to minimize the drowsiness impacting his life. He tries to find ways to stay more alert instead (trying to fix the root of the problem rather than a symptom of it)
I think an excellent encapsulation of Silver’s entire character is his Dorm Uniform vignettes; in them, Silver’s classmates express that they think he is unapproachable and that he has no emotions. Silver overhears these comments and becomes concerned that his peers do not like him, so he asks his friend, Kalim, and Jamil for help learning how to smile. We then learn through a series of comedic events that it is physically hard for Silver to smile or to make a different facial expression which matches his feelings more. What finally gets Silver to smile naturally is when he gets so lost in an activity that he isn’t even aware his expression has changed. Lilia and Malleus, who are watching him, remark on Silver’s uncanny empathy. Then Lilia says, “[Silver] conceals some powerful emotions beneath that poker face of his.” To this, Malleus corrects him: “I wouldn't say he actively conceals [his emotions], per se. I suspect he simply doesn't betray much emotion.” Lilia agrees: “I suppose that's fair. Not that I find him difficult to read, of course!” It’s then that Silver’s classmates realize they were wrong about him and they begin to act more friendly.
To summarize: Malleus outright says it in Silver’s Dorm Uniform vignettes; it’s not that Silver does not have emotions or finds it difficult to communicate in a sentimental way, it’s that peers tend to misread him because of his face and his frank way of speaking. He thinks a lot of the people around him and makes numerous attempts to adjust his behavior so that they are more comfortable being around him. He asks for help and offers help in return. His one weakness is not being able to fully come to terms with the fact that Lilia loves and accepts him as he is, that Silver IS enough for the family he now finds himself in. He may have learned things from Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek, but those three should NOT be held entirely accountable for Silver being the way he is. Several other factors played a role in shaping him to be the cool, level-headed knight we know and love. Silver is… Silver, and sometimes Silver is hard to read or struggles with self-acceptance! That’s just who he is, and that’s part of his appeal.
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c.leclerc x female reader (no y/n, soulmates au) word count: 4.3k a/n: my first f1 fic 🫣 be gentle i'm new here
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Can we talk later?
You mill over the text, shaken, unprepared for the what are we conversation just yet, planning on living in the climate-controlled artificial relationship ecosystem for just a while longer. You write out an answer, delete, rewrite until the words don’t look like words and your fingers tap the wrong keys, delete again, set your phone face down on the arm of the couch. Chewing on it for a few more minutes, you attempt to play out the conversation in your mind, pausing here, clipping that short, slowing that down, and then your phone is in your hand again. 
You wonder if his phone sits deep in his pocket, buried somewhere in a bag, in his hand while he anxiously watches the typing bubbles appear, disappear, appear again. Maybe he’s as anxious as you, horrified, mortified, all the other -fieds at the thought of a label corrupting this, at the thought of rules and expectations and external opinions. 
You can plan it out as many times as you want, you’re always going to get stumped, because, well, you have no fucking idea what you and he are. You’re friends, best friends, the exchange of knowing glances, soulmates, a familiar laughter, strangers, a fading fire, nobody knows. Why, why must this conversation be had? You’re having fun, it’s fact, unwavering and unrelenting fun. Keep on, keeping on, just for now, until things aren’t so fun, and then the serious conversations can be had.
You can’t tell him no, refusing to have the talk would be worse than anything that could possibly come from actually sorting this situation out, from deciding whether or not this version of you will live on, or if it’s time they get buried, locked away far from your mind, replaced by someone new. 
Yes, you eventually reply. Dinner, my place?
There’s a pit in your stomach because you still don’t know what you’re going to do, what you’ll say, what your relationship is. His career, his lifestyle, it’s so, so different from yours. He’s home now, but he'll be gone soon, gone a lot, and you can’t just drop everything to follow him around, and you wouldn’t want to. You have no interest in every single move you make being talked about, photographed and scandalized. When you have a bad day, you don’t need the world to know, and when you have a good day, you don’t want to feel obligated to share it with anyone you don’t want to. 
He makes you happy, there’s no denying that, and you’re pretty sure he feels the same way, but you’ve been happy before. You’d be happy again, a simple happy, a regular happy. Is he really worth all that?
He’s knocking on the door at seven sharp, bottle of red in one hand, flowers in the other. You blush, because it’s the first time he’s personally delivered you flowers, and he makes fun of you for it, says you’re too easy to please with a cocky grin on his smug face. He asks you to be his girlfriend over the pasta dinner. You say yes, pretend you never had a single doubt, kiss him in the lamp lit living room. 
You meet his family in Monaco. It’s your first time on the paddock, first time at an F1 race,  and you pick anxiously at your cuticles the entire walk there. You’ve been planning your outfit out for a week, and yet still changed five times this morning. You would’ve kept going, but you were going to be late. You check your purse a million times, terrified that you’re going to forget something. They come up to you in Ferrari hospitality and introduce themselves. His mom is kind and respectful, and hugs you tight. His brothers remind you of him, same laugh, same mannerisms, same sense of humor. “She’s a keeper.” Arthur tells Charles that evening as you all leave the track. He nods, agrees, pulls you a little closer.
You move in together a few months after that, and find yourself explaining the intimate details of the past situationship to your mother over the phone. She’s just looking out for you, curious as to the stranger from another country that will be living with her daughter after only a few months of dating. She was expecting to hear that you’d been fucking for six and a half months before making the jump to boyfriend and girlfriend, but you weren’t expecting her to be so incredibly investigative. “He’s famous, Ma.” You’d told her.
“So if he kills you, I’ll see it on the news before I hear it from the police.” You laughed. She didn’t, and you promised to be out to meet her as soon as you could. You and Charles booked the flights over FaceTime that night.
Your parents had always held out hope you’d move back home, get tired of Monaco and all its pomp and circumstance and come crawling back to a twin bed in the land of dull beige apartments and gray skies. Charles impressing them was going to be twice as hard as it should’ve been, because the mere existence of your relationship was crushing their dreams for their little girl. He is an anchor, holding you steady in Monaco, stationary and happy and far, far away from them. 
He’s him, though, so all he had to do was flash those endearing eyes and that charming smile and they were calling him their son-in-law by the time we were eating dinner in the swankiest restaurant your hometown had to offer. You didn’t know it then, but he sat on the porch with your dad one morning and said he wanted to marry you. “Of course, you do.” Your Dad had said. “For your sake, I hope she wants to marry you.”
You did–want to marry him, and you danced with your friends and family into the morning on that summer evening, the air perfectly warm, the sun perfectly shining, a wedding band perfectly sat on your finger. It was the single most fun evening you’d ever had, celebrating the love you have for your husband. 
It takes a while to get used to that. Your husband, Charles.
“We’re not, not trying.” He told your grandchildren hungry parents at Christmas. You were mortified, wishing you could curl up into your own skin at the thought of your parents, especially your father, knowing exactly what’s happening in your sex life. It’s a year and three months to the day when they’re at your house in Monaco. You’re on the couch, raggedy pajamas and hair that hasn’t been brushed in three days, minimum, watching Charles carefully place your Mother’s littlest grandchild into her arms. He’s a month old, your son, and it seems like he’s already so big, but when you see him in your Mom’s arms, tiny wool socks slipping off his feet, you’re reminded just how small and dependant he is on you, both of you, to keep him safe from even his own fingernails. 
If you thought keeping mittens on the kid or waking up in the middle of the night to make sure his chest is still rising and falling was touch, nothing could’ve prepared you for that little shit learning how to open the babyproofed kitchen cabinets. The terrible twos were indeed, terrible. So terrible, that you’d decided hey, let’s do this again. Dragging yourself to those home races was anxious then, but now you’re chasing around a two year old, hoping and praying he doesn’t say anything or eat anything or, God forbid, break anything. 
Somewhere in the mess of it all, Charles was having his best season. The championship was so close he could taste it, and you made sure you were there, front and center, cheering him on when he finally achieved his dream. ‘It’s for my Father, and for Jules, and for my kids.” He’d said, teary eyed. He didn’t need to dedicate it to you, he never needed to prove anything to you, to show you his greatness. You loved him as he was, world champion or not, but you still hugged him with all your might in the middle of the track, still kissed him like there were no cameras and no people watching, because, for that immortalized moment in time, nobody was there but you and him. 
He smelled like champagne for three days, and you’re not sure you’ll ever bounce back from the celebrations that night, a permanent hangover and a queasy stomach at the mere mention of a top shelf tequila that shall not be named lingers on for years to come. Everything was perfect, though, and it was all so worth it. Two parents in love, chasing their dreams, a big house on a hill, a little boy and a tiny girl with the world at their fingertips. Your little family was so cliché it hurt. 
Before you knew it, you’re dropping your boy off at his first day of school, and you’re pretending not to cry while Charles laughs sweetly, wiping the salt from your face with the pads of his thumbs. He’s gone racing, and you’re splitting your already short time between this afterschool activity and that. When he’s home, he tries to shoulder as much of it as he can, and sometimes it feels like you kiss each other goodmorning and don’t see the other until you kiss again goodnight. 
Charles retires when the kids are eleven and eight. They understand, but they don’t. Their father is just their father to them, they can’t yet wrap their heads around the true passion he has for racing, the way it courses through his veins and occupies any free space in his mind, They don’t understand what it’s like to love something so purely, to know it’s what you were put on this Earth to do, not yet. 
It gets easier, for a while. There’s an adjustment period, and then you slip into a new routine, one where he tells the kids goodnight, and goes to sleep a few hours later rather than calling from somewhere else in the world and still having a million hours left in his day. 
The kids only get older, though, and their lives just get bigger, there’s more responsibility to shoulder, more things that need to get done. They develop new hobbies, add new sports practices and clubs and events to your already chaotic schedule. You’re tired, like, all of the time, and fight more than you ever did before. “I didn’t even want to be with you in the first place.” You said once, in the middle of your messiest argument. You two didn’t speak for three days, no hello, no goodbye, no tired small talk about your days or arguments about spending time with certain kids. On the third night, he slept on the couch and it felt like he had never been farther away. You made up the next morning.
At least, you told yourselves you made up. It only took a few days to slide back into the same stuff, hanging on by a single thread until a new fight came along to be the messiest one. You both tried to keep it quiet, hide it from the kids and your family and your friends, let everyone go on believing you were this perfect couple with this perfect life and perfect family. Nobody needed to know your relationship was going through the wringer each and every day, and you were convinced nobody was the wiser. “Are you and Dad going to divorce?” Your sweet little boy, the one who was now three inches taller than you, asked as you dropped him off for his first day at a new school. 
You called off work and went straight home, waited for Charles to get back from dropping off the younger one, and were crying on the couch when he got home. The two of you talked  until it was time to pick them up, and then you talked some more in the privacy of your room when you got back. It was the first time in a long time you actually talked to each other. You’d spent years speaking at each other, losing yourselves, losing each other, losing everything that mattered. 
“Your parents are so in love,” Your boy’s girlfriend–yes, he has a girlfriend now–said at his little sister’s graduation party. In a few short months, you’re going to be empty nesters, and Charles is taking it particularly hard. He feels like he’s missed out on too much, that his relationship with the kids will never be what yours is. You try your best to comfort him, but you both know he’s right. You weren’t the only ones who made sacrifices for Charles to chase his dream, the kids were forced to share their father with the world, whether they liked it or not. 
Charles was an emotional wreck the weekend of your little girl’s wedding. From start to finish, he was moments away from shedding a swimming pool’s worth of tears. He was so happy to see her so happy, and it was bittersweet for him, giving his little girl away, knowing that she didn’t need him anymore. He understood now what your father had meant all those years ago, that it was impossible not to love her, and that anybody lucky enough to be loved should never take advantage of it for even a moment. You danced together at the reception, laughing and reminiscing about your own. You’d asked, jokingly, if he regretted marrying you. “Never.” He said, without elaboration or grand gesture, and you knew he meant it, despite the challenges you’d faced together. 
Before you knew it, there was another Charles running around the house, laughing that sweet belly laugh and harboring all the innocence of the world in his big doe eyes. You’ll never be able to explain to anyone how much that meant for Charles, a grandson named after him. It was as if every doubt and insecurity  he’d had about raising your kids was silenced. As if you son was telling him, you built me, Dad, thank you
The years faded into each other, both of you graying and aging with an optimistic grace. Your kids threw you a surprise 40th anniversary party, and you thought it was impossible to feel so surrounded by love. You danced to your wedding song, resting your head on his shoulder like you had all those years ago, laughing at his stupid jokes and silently reflecting on everything that got you here. It was never easy, it was never going to be, but it was so worth it, to love him and be loved by him. 
And when your memory started to escape you, when you searched for a younger version of him in every room, he stayed by your side as a stranger. In a moment of clarity, ones that were becoming fewer and further between, you’d asked him to promise you something. “Let me go first.” You pleaded, feeling all the weight of a life without him, knowing that if he dies before you, you’ll forget he was gone and be forced to relive the sorrow over and over again. 
As your breathing slowed and the sounds of the world faced away, his hand stayed on yours. It’s only a matter of time, now. You’ll be gone soon, leaving behind the wonderful life you’ve created. “Wait for me wherever you go, mon ange.” He whispers in the stillness of the hospital room. “I will find you again.”
– – – –
You see him for the first time at a café. You’re sixteen and don’t even like coffee, but your best friend is dragging you in. He’s working behind the counter, flustered and busy, running around mixing drinks and taking orders. "Que voulez-vous commander madame?” He asked your friend, and she ordered. “Et vous?” I don’t drink coffee, you told him. He smiled, goofy, something familiar in his eyes. You noted his nametag, carefully drawn on with a chalk marker. Charles. 
He calls out your friend's name a few minutes after, and sets two drinks down on the counter. Her name is written messily on one, his phone number on the other. 
You spend the next month stopping by the shop randomly. Sometimes he isn’t there, but when he is, he makes you a different drink every time, his number scribbled on the side without fail. It takes the whole month before you’re convinced to actually call him, and he doesn’t answer. You leave a message.
Your first date is the weekend, coffee in the morning. Because, of course it is. He pulls out your chair on the patio of the small shop and the first date turns into a second, lunch in the park, and then a third, dinner at your favorite restaurant. Not once do you run out of things to talk about, something vast and unfamiliar and welcoming about him. In the silent moments there is  solace, warm and comfortable, like you’ve known each other your whole lives. 
Nobody believes in your relationship, not really. You’re fighting the odds from the time you decide you’re not going to break up before going to university. Everytime you catch up with friends from home, they seem surprised to learn you’re still together. Family whispers, tells you it’s not going to last, that you should prepare yourself. But you and he know something nobody else does, acutely aware of the draw and connection you share. A once in a lifetime, once in a millenia, once upon a time love story written just for the two of you. 
When you graduated, a cheap, shiny engagement ring on your finger, he was watching with a proud smile and a bouquet of flowers. You went home together, to your dumpy little apartment, paid for by your waitress shifts and his hours at the café. He cooked dinner, you ate off paper plates in the living room and made infinite, optimistic plans for your futures. 
You could dream far and wide, but when it came down to it, anything would be heaven if he was there. Cheap dingy apartment and barely paying jobs felt like the lap of luxury with him by your side. 
This time though, your story is much more tragic. Lovers fated for a John Green novel, a manic pixie dream girl to live on in montages on tiny phone screens, destined to be someone he thinks of in dark lonely rooms or when someone doesn’t answer his call. 
He realizes a year and a half after the abrupt end to your story that he can’t remember your voice, your laugh, your smell. He spends the day watching videos of you, re-memorizing the way you spoke, your mannerisms, you. He’s moved out of the apartment, and your parents have all your things in boxes in their attic. He drives into the early morning, stopping once to use the bathroom, nothing more. When your Dad opens the door in the middle of the night, he gives Charles a heavy hug and leads him to the attic. It’s there, under the A-frame roof, amongst the humid air and cobwebs that you are immortalized. Beyond the dust is everything that made you, you. Forever young and hopeful and in love.
In a cardboard box labeled your room, corners dark and misshapen, he finds a stack of disposable coffee cups, familiar label printed on the cleaned cups, familiar number scribbled on each one with the haste of a seventeen year old boy’s black sharpie. He had no idea you’d kept them, the stupid advances of a shy boy enamored with the pretty girl. 
He moved forward, somehow, sometime later. But, he never moved on, looking for your smile, your sense of humor, your heart, in everyone who followed. 
– – – –
The next lifetime is spent platonically, a lifelong companionship that nobody else could ever fully understand. You were old souls, cherishing the minute details of the world and longing for something simpler. There was no longing, or waiting to meet. You’d known him for as long as you could remember. 
He was a brother, without the blood. Charles the comedic protector, walking on the outside of the sidewalk and then promising to use you as a human shield, a plus one to a wedding when your boyfriend dumped you the night before then did the chicken dance in front of strangers just to get an embarrassed laugh out of you. Charles, who walked so you could run, who jumped to make sure you wouldn’t fall, who held you back so he could throw the punches. 
When you met his wife for the first time, then barely his girlfriend, you’d made him promise not to fuck it up. “She’s too good for you, Cha.” You’d told him, because it was true. 
When she put you in a purple chiffon cupcake dress at their wedding, he struggled to bite back laughter while you walked down the aisle. You flipped him off with your eyes and he looked to Arthur, who was cracking up beside him. 
“He looks just like his Dad,” She said, holding your son in the hospital. Thank God for that, Charles said, and she smacked his arm. 
“We can only hope yours doesn’t suffer the same fate.” You said, a smug expression on your tired face. 
He went first this time, a million years later. You held her hand at the funeral and kissed the boys’ cheeks, tears pricking your nose when their grip on you tightened. 
There was comfort in the grief, something sure and steady in you, this wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. 
– – – –
Yes. Dinner, my place?
He gets there at seven, wine and flowers in hand. Your heart sinks and you’re ready to have a panic attack. You can’t do this to him, he’s too sweet, too kind. He leaves your apartment an hour and a half later, and you cry for what feels like the entire night. The flowers are in the trash the next morning, because you can’t bear to look at them.
“Do we have to watch this?” You asked, sitting on the couch next to your boyfriend. I thought you liked it, he’d said. There was nothing you wanted to watch less than Charles winning his first World Championship, watching him celebrate on the podium, kissing his girlfriend for the whole world to see. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel, it was a combination of ache, longing, joy, and pride. None of which were your place to be feeling. “Just, turn it off, please?”
You threw up three times on your wedding day. Something was wrong, you knew deep down that you were making a mistake, but you didn’t have the resources or the balls to do anything about it. You knew you’d be happy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something better was out there somewhere, that your soulmate was walking–or driving–around somewhere in the world. You went through with it though, never knowing for sure the reason behind your tears at the altar. 
Things were good, until they weren’t anymore, and you find yourself in the aftermath of a messy divorce and a messier custody battle. You live back in your hometown, the one you swore you’d never live in again, in a beige apartment that doesn’t belong to you. It’s all you can afford, and you need your parents' help with the kids. Not that you found yourself with much time to look back on your life, but when you did, it wasn’t the sunshine, roses, and simple happiness you’d aimed for when you opted down this path years ago. You found yourself wondering, more often than you’d like to admit, about what could have been, about what almost was. 
Your son, because the universe is sick and twisted and determined, decides he wants to be a Formula One driver. He must get it from his father, the drive to chase his dreams, because it certainly didn’t come from you and your desire to settle for something simple and regular. 
You don’t know how you manage it, the financial aspect of what feels like the most expensive dream in the world, but you do. Before you know it, your leg is anxiously bouncing for what feels like nine straight months. Watching him drive horrifies you, leaves you shaky and exhausted even when everything goes right, but especially when anything at all goes wrong. 
Your name on his lips is startling. You vaguely recognize it, turning to a familiar face that matches the maturity of the voice. It’s him, because who else would it be? “Charles?” You say, and you feel twenty-something and insanely vulnerable again.
“What are you doing here?” He asked.
“My boy.” You explained. 
“And, his father?” He asked, something strained in his voice. Hope, maybe. Or boredom. You don’t know him the way you once did, and he’s even more closed off than before. 
“What about him?”
“Is he here?” He said, hanging, something unsaid stuck on his tongue. You gave him the room to speak. “With you?”
You shook your head. “He’s here, but. We’re. I’m divorced.” You admit, something about it still sounds so taboo, so scandalous. Like it’s something you should be ashamed of. “You?”
“Widowed.” He said, and you inhaled sharply. 
“What was her name?” You don’t know why you said it, but it was coming out of your mouth before you could catch yourself, before you could express your sympathy. He told you. You’d never heard a name sound so sad. “I’m so sorry, Charles.” He swatted your words away, shook his head. “What was she like?” His face brightened, like nobody had ever asked what she was like. It was as if he had been desperately waiting to tell someone about her. 
He smiled, thought about it for what felt like a hundred laps. Quietly, practically under his breath, he spoke something you were completely unprepared to hear. “You,” He said. “She was a lot like you.”
<3, mack. hope you enjoyed, if you did, please don't be a ghost reader!
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vodika-vibes · 2 months
Note
Hey, babes, I'm back, but only because you asked for a Dogma request, lol. I am very happy to oblige 🥰
I left my paper with all my notes on it at work, so I'm trying to remember what gemstone and time I haven't asked for yet...
So, let's do Dogma, with a tanzanite, and 0600 (because it's Dogma, lol 😂)
Please and thank you 💚💚💚
@the-bad-batch-baroness
I See You
Summary: You and Dogma are nothing alike, and that’s why you work so well together. You just have to remind him from time to time.
Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x GN!Reader
Word Count: 661
Prompt: Tanzanite - Perceptive Love
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Alright! This is written, I'm going to take another nap on the couch now that I've eaten and hydrated. Hopefully the naps will help. Happy reading~
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You and Dogma don’t make sense on paper.
The pair of you are as opposite as day and night in many ways. He’s neat and organized, while you’re not so much. He’s a stickler for the rules, and you've always viewed the rules as guidelines, rather than hard edicts.
He’s not much of a people person, and you’re something of a social butterfly.
No. On paper, the two of you don’t make sense, but you do work together. 
He brings some much needed order to your life, and you help him see that there’s more to life than being a soldier. Sure, there were some growing pains when your relationship first started, but you haven’t had any problems in months. 
So when Dogma starts pulling away, you’re concerned. 
Your immediate concern is that one of his brothers put a thought into his head, made him think that he’s breaking a rule by dating you. It’s happened before, after all. Though when you put your foot down and told his brothers that you would date Dogma or you would date none of them, that stopped right quick.
But, the more you watched him, the more you realized that this was something else.
It had to be something else.
So you wake with his alarm early one morning, when the sun is still low over the horizon, and you settle against the headboard as you watch him get ready for the day. 
He likes keeping his schedule the same, even on days when he’s not working, which is why he’s awake at 0600 every morning. It can be frustrating, but you love him, so you deal with it.
He’s watching you with dark eyes, “Why are you awake, cyare?” Dogma asks, “You never wake up this early on your days off.”
You tilt your head as you watch him pull a loose tee shirt over his head, “I’m thinking.” You muse thoughtfully, as you allow your gaze to trace the geometric tattoos that run down his arm.
He folds his arms, “About what?”
Your gaze drifts up to his face, and you trace the tattoo on his face with a small, fond smile. “You, mostly.” A flush raises onto his cheeks and he averts his gaze. His shoulders seem to curl in on him, and you frown.
Your Dogma is so clever. He knows wartime and battles and weapons and ships-
But you know people. You read people like he reads books. And you don’t like what you’re reading on his body.
“Dogma,” You slide to the edge of the bed, reaching out for him, “When did you become so uncertain of my love for you?” You ask softly, “Have I said something?”
His gaze snaps to yours, “I’ve never doubted that!”
“Then,” You muse thoughtfully, “Perhaps you’re unsure of your love for me?”
“Never,” His arms unfold and he slides his hands into yours before he kneels at your feet, “I’m not sure about a lot of things, cyare, but you…I’ve never doubted how I feel for you. Or how you feel for me.”
You slide your hands up his arms to press them against his face, “But you are unsure about something.”
He hesitates, “One of my brothers,” Dogma finally admits, “has been telling me that I don’t deserve you. And,” he sighs, quiet and slow, “I can’t help but think that he’s got a point.”
You’re quiet for a moment, “Dogma,” You lightly tug him in to brush your lips against his, “My opinion on this remains as it was when we first started dating.”
He shoots you a puzzled look.
Your smile is soft, “My choice is you. It’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”
Dogma smiles, it's a small thing, but it’s real, and he pulls your head down to press your forehead against his. “How do you always know what to say?”
“Because I see you, Dogma. I always have. And I like what I see.”
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