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#realizing that she's insulted every one of my other friends
writingroom21 · 1 day
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The Nanny
Pairing: rafe x nanny reader
Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?
Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy
Wc: 5.3K
Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken
Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 
The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.
Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.
Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 
“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”
“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.
“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”
This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”
“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”
Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”
“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”
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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 
Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.
It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 
The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.
So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 
The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.
As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.
No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 
Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 
You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 
“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.
He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 
“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.
Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 
To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.
He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 
You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 
He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 
“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.
 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.
How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.
There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.
The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”
The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.
“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”
He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”
With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.
“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 
He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.
Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.
 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 
“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.
 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 
If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 
Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 
“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 
“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 
“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 
“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 
“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 
He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”
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Headcanons/Thoughts for Every Main Five Just Dance ship
Obviously I have my favorite but sometimes it’s fun to just think about other ships so I wanted to make a post about ALL of them. For some reason. PS don’t reblog/reply to this with “well actually that one ship sucks and I don’t like it”. As far as we know all of them are the same age and not related so there’s really no reason why any ship is wrong, let people like what they like.
Wanderlust x Jack: I don’t need to rant about them, you all already know. Go read my fanfiction
Wanderlust x Sara: He brings her into this magical world, she loves it and she loves him. It’s a bit cliche but cliches are cliches because they WORK. Also, we know Sara loves the Danceverses, but what if Wanderlust loves Earth? What if he’s got a Little Mermaid thing going on? Imagine Sara showing him around Earth and him being excited by the silliest little things
Wanderlust x Brezziana: They’re both the most energetic ones of the group. Imagine them teaming up on adventures and charging ahead together when the others get tired. Neither of them can always find a friend to keep up with them, but they always have each other
Wanderlust x Mihaly: They’re kind of like two different sides of the Flow? Wander is more energetic and Mihaly’s more chill, so I think they’d balance each other out well. Mihaly gets Wander to slow down every once in a while and appreciate things he’d otherwise miss. Wanderlust shows them how to be more spontaneous and free
Jack x Sara: Sara falls for the bad boy except he’s not actually bad. So much in the Danceverses is bright and crazy and overwhelming, so Jack being more down-to-earth is refreshing for her. Jack loves the way she treats him. Aside from the events of story mode, she doesn’t have the background on Night Swan and Eternyx that the others do, so she doesn’t know his reputation as well. He feels like she really sees him as his own person while everyone else will always remember his mother’s shadow
Jack x Mihaly: I think both of them being the more practical ones of the group could mesh well. We also know Mihaly used to idolize Night Swan in some way, so they both can relate to having wanted to live up to her legacy and now realizing she was wrong. Jack is also always expecting some sort of punishment or consequence if he does something wrong, but Mihaly is so chill about everything that they make him feel like everything’s okay
Jack x Brezziana: Brezziana will drag Jack out of the house to go do stuff when he’s stuck moping around. Theyre SO opposites attract. She’s also ready to stand up for him whenever necessary. Jack will just turn the other cheek to insults and pretend nothing bothers him, but Brezziana won’t let him bottle things up
Sara x Mihaly: Another case of chill vs energetic balancing each other out. I think Mihaly brings Sara to meet Master Panda and he really likes her. What if they try training together to see if Sara is gifted with the Flow like people from the Danceverses are? Again, I feel like Mihaly is also a grounding presence for her amongst the chaos of the Danceverses.
Sara x Brezziana: They go on mall dates a lot! Cute dates where they pick out outfits for each other and try them on. They’re very giggly. They post very cutesy Instagram posts about each other all the time. Connected at the hip when the gang goes out places.
Mihaly x Brezziana: This one’s popular. Again it’s energetic vs chill. Mihaly will often open their home to fourteen texts from Brezziana about something crazy she just did and Mihaly just shakes their head and smiles.
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eve-dawntower · 3 days
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His Story (Jeremiah x MC)
Warning: None
Pairing: Jeremiah x Reader , Xavier x Reader
Tags: Light Angst, Unrequited Love
It was already late. You and Jeremiah had been waiting for Xavier. Xavier asked you to wait at Philos, and so here you are, trying to coax Jeremiah to tell you a story to ease the boredom.
"Come on, Jeremiah. Any story will do. Horror, comedy, drama, love story, it doesn't matter. Just please tell me a story."
"Can you just play with your phone or something?" Jeremiah asked in exasperation. He really didn't mind listening to any of your requests, but he was a bad storyteller. And he wasn't even sure what story to tell. Unlike Xavier, he was not a massive book reader. He had a lot of books, yet they remained untouched for hundreds of years.
"I already did, and I'm still bored," you stubbornly said.
"Fine," Jeremiah sighed in defeat. "I don't know what story to tell, though."
"Come on, I'm sure you can think of something good. I mean, Xavier can do it despite his stories being really bad," you said with a small chuckle.
Jeremiah laughed and relented. "Fine. I have an idea of what to tell now."
You looked at him excitedly. "I'm listening."
A small, sad smile appeared on his lips. And then, he began:
"This story is about my friend. He was goofy, cheerful, friendly, and a little full of himself. He was liked by everyone despite that, though.
One day, he went to this school. And there, he met the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At least at that time, he thought she was the most beautiful woman. He befriended the woman and realized that she's not only beautiful but also very kind and caring. He fell in love with her. She's the love of his life, his sweetheart, his queen.
But one day, the lady introduced him to someone else. Another guy. A guy who was much more handsome, much stronger, much calmer, and above all, a prince.
He was everything that he wasn't, and the guy couldn't help but feel hopeless and defeated.
He also noticed the way she looked at the princely man. A gaze full of love and adoration. He was sure she didn't realize it, but he knew. He knew because that was how he also looked at her. What made him more hopeless was the way the princely man also looked at her. Right at that moment, he knew. He knew that the feeling was mutual. He knew that they both loved each other.
He had to make the hardest decision: to step back. Because he knew that the other guy was the man who could make her happy. At least that was what he thought until he noticed how he was treating her. No, the other guy was not treating her badly. It was just that it seemed like she was not his first priority. He always disappeared for long periods of time without telling her, and she obediently waited for him. Whenever that happened, he second-guessed his decision to give way.
Maybe this was not the right choice. Maybe he should have at least fought for her? And yet, whenever he saw her eyes light up whenever the other guy appeared, he would think that maybe this was how it was supposed to be.
For years, the cycle happened continuously: he'd disappear, she'd wait, he'd return. Every time it happened, he would stay beside her, listen to her complaints, and give snarky remarks or insult the other guy in return.
As time passed, the young man's feelings for the woman remained unchanged. Despite the pain of watching her with another, he couldn't deny the love he harbored within his heart. Yet, he continued to hide his true emotions, burying them beneath a facade of friendship and support.
And then, the prince disappeared again, this time, for much, much longer.
No one knew where he was, and everyone had already given up on him. Most of them thought he would never return. And yet, the lady remained, waiting for him. The other guy decided to stay by her side even though it hurt him. Seeing the woman he loves pining for another man is painful, but for him, it would be more painful to see her face the loneliness alone. And so, he stayed at her side.
And one fateful day, the prince returned again. This time, he seemed different. He was more determined about something that only he was aware of.
The other guy then finally talked to the prince. And then, the prince finally confessed what was going on.
Let's just say it has something to do with saving the life of the woman they both love. Determined, he decided to join the prince in his quest to save their beloved's life, making a sacrifice of leaving the woman where she would be safe.
Jeremiah ended the story and looked at you.
"That's kind of sad," you said, looking back at him. "Did your friend and the prince manage to save her?"
Jeremiah smiled a little. "Not yet. They're still working on it."
"Oh. So... Your friend still loves her even up until now?"
Jeremiah chuckled. "Well, no one could change his love for her, but he realized that the prince loves her more than he loves her. In the end, he met another woman named Bella and dated her. But of course, he is still determined to save the life of his first love."
You smiled. "He seems nice."
Jeremiah smiled back. "Nah. He's a shitty guy."
Just then, a light beam covered the area as Xavier appeared.
Jeremiah sighed. "You promised to use the door instead of teleporting, Xavier."
Xavier apologized with a deadpan expression and turned to you before smiling and offering a hand.
"Let's go home?"
You smiled and took his hand. "Yeah," you said and turned to Jeremiah. "Bye, Jeremiah, and thank you for telling me the story. I hope your friend finds the happiness he deserves."
Xavier looked questioningly, but you only gave him a secretive smile.
Jeremiah smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
As Xavier and you disappeared, Jeremiah let out a defeated sigh. "As long as you're happy, I'll be happy, my queen."
END
MASTERLIST
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sga-owns-my-soul · 5 months
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i love waking up at 4am crying bc i'm having an existential crisis about my life
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bakugoushotwife · 4 months
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a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!
warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.
summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!
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it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 
satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 
he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 
he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?
that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 
this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.
your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 
“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 
“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 
you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 
but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 
“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 
“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 
“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 
“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 
he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 
you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 
“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 
“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 
he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 
“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 
“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 
“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 
you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 
“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 
no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 
“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 
“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 
“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 
you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”
“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 
your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 
“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 
but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 
you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 
though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.
his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 
“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 
“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 
in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 
“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 
your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 
you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 
“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 
“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 
your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”
“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 
“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 
“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 
“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 
your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 
you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 22 days
Text
come on home
in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid
inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers
wc 2857
warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3
She hung up on you. 
Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 
Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 
You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  
So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  
What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 
“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 
“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 
Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 
“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 
“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 
You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 
“Nice, nice. What else?” 
“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 
“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 
“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 
A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 
“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 
“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 
When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 
“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  
You bite the inside of your cheek. 
“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 
“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 
“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 
Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 
“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 
Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 
“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 
“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 
“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 
Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 
“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 
Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 
“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 
Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 
“Then I’m on my way.” 
Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  
After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 
You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  
“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 
You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 
Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 
His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 
“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 
You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  
Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 
“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 
“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 
“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 
“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 
There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 
You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 
Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 
“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  
At least, until he goes home. 
Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 
“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  
“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 
“That among other things.” 
“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 
The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 
“Okay.” 
It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  
“Thanks,” you murmur.  
His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 
“Anytime.” 
There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  
But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 
“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 
“I can’t do that, honey.” 
“Why not?” 
His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 
“Because we’re not together anymore.” 
“Why not?” 
Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 
Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 
“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 
In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.
“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 
He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 
“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 
You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 
“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 
Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 
“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 
When he kisses you, it feels like home. 
921 notes · View notes
emssturniolo · 3 months
Text
delicate
pairing: matthew sturniolo x reader
summary: your soft spoken tone doesn’t let you make new friends, but matt is who you only really need
warnings: use of yn, and names such as baby ;)
a/n: very rare emssturniolo matt fan fic ! whaaat ?!??
happy reading :)
you and matt were currently at a party with his brothers. it was a party of some influencer who you didn’t really know, and had never spoken to
but you didn’t want to ruin the night for matt, who seemed to be excited to go to this party with his brothers and friends, so you promised yourself, for his sake, to try and make some new friends to talk to while you’re there
you went in confident and ready, to just tell your anxiety to fuck off and get out of your (very comfortable) comfort zone. yet, every time that you tried to talk to some girl that seemed remotely interesting to you, they would give you one of three main responses: make a weird face and shrug you off, try to talk to you and end up leaving, or just straight up insulting you - see there was a small problem with you and parties; you were too soft spoken to be heard in places with loud music and a lot of talking. so every time you tried to talk to someone, they wouldn’t be able to hear you and they’d either just leave or tell you to speak up, which was quite literally impossible for you to do, since your voice just didn’t go any higher than the slight next step from a whisper
yet you were determined. you didn’t want to cling onto matt, you wanted him to have fun and have some alone time with his friends, away from you. the last thing you needed was for him to think you’re too clingy. so you tried again, for the third time, to talk to a girl. this time, you spotted a girl sitting alone on the couch in the living room of the house the party was being held in. she was just on her phone when you sat next to her, and said “hey, you wanna talk?” and she diverted her attention away from her phone and looked at you with a smile. this was going well,,, surprisingly. “yeah sure! what’s your name?” she asked, “mine’s jenna.”, you smiled, “i love that name! i’m yn!” - jenna looked confused for a second before asking you, “sorry, what was that?”. she hadn’t heard you. “i said i love that name, i’m yn!” you tried again, raising your voice a bit higher, or as much as you could. “i can’t hear you! look, if you’re not gonna speak up i don’t think we can talk!”, jenna scoffed, and got up and left
tears brimmed at your eyes. you knew you weren’t speaking loud, but there was no reason for people to be so mean about it - so you gave in, and went to find matt. you needed him urgently, just a hug would be enough, but you couldn’t find him. you were growing more anxious by the second, so you quickly shot matt a text
matt<3
hey where are you?
i’m on the balcony
why what’s wrong?
can we meet ? like outside ?
yeah sure :)
and with that, you found matt outside the door of the house. the second you came close enough, you hugged him tightly. light tears ran down your warm cheeks, and as soon as matt realized, he pulled back, his hold still on you - gentle, but firm. “what’s up, my love? what’s wrong?” he spoke gently, just to match your delicate state. “nothing, just tried to talk to some people to let you have fun, but they always gave me weird looks or responses when i talked low.” you lightly let out a breath. he hugged you again, his delicate hands sinking into your skin, you above your hips - to let you know he’s there
“baby, look at me. you know i love everything about you, but trust me, that soft, gentle, beautiful, sweet, delicate tone of your voice is on my ‘top three things i love about yn’ list. promise.” and with that, he stuck out his pinky finger, which was immediately interlocked with yours, a kiss planted on each other’s fingers, and another one right after, planted on each other’s lips
“i love you, my sweet girl.” he said, sincerely. and you could tell, just by the stars in his eyes which show up anytime he talks about something he’s passionate about,,,
or talking about you
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m4nj1r0s · 4 months
Note
hii I just wanted to ask if you could do general headcannons for Manjiro sano/Mikey if that's alright, also I hope you had a good holiday! :)
Manjiro Sano general relationship headcannons
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Note: AHH THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST 🤭🤭
And I hope you had a good holiday too! <33
I went a little off-track, mb 😭
- He didn’t really have any interest in girls, until him and Emma were just going back and forth with insults and she said that he gets no girls. It made him stop and actually think. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d liked a girl or a girl liked him back.
- So naturally he decided to give the whole relationship thing a go. The only problem was to find someone willing to be his girlfriend.
- He went to school to try and find a girl who might like him, he didn’t have any specific girl he liked so he was open to anyone. You sat next him in a couple of classes, but since he never never came, he didn’t know. You guys got to talking and he quickly found himself enjoying your little daily talks!
- It progressed and it wasn’t until Draken noticed him getting visibly happy whenever someone mentioned your name that he liked you. Mikey honestly didn’t think it was a big deal until Mitsuya pointed out that you might only see him as a friend. That’s when he got a little panicked.
- This was the first (and would be the only) time he’d ever liked a girl. We all know if you’re friends with Mikey that it will last literal TIMELINES because he’s incredibly loyal and expects others to be as well. That’s why he expected your guys’ current friendship to last that long too.
- He realized that confessing could ruin that if you didn’t like him back and if you did you two could end up breaking up since he didn’t know much about relationships anyway.
- So for a couple of months he just lived with his giant crush on you.
- I don’t think he’d be scared of introducing you to Toman since he knows he’s literally ‘The Invincible Mikey’ (or was it unbeatable I can’t remember). He could just protect you if anything were to happen! And he expected every Toman member to do the same.
- Everyone in Toman knows Mikey likes you. In fact, you seem to be the only one who hasn’t noticed.
- When Takemichi found out that Mikey liked you, he was ready to help his friend out. So he gave Mikey advice that he got from Hina. He told Mikey to be a gentleman and to be straight up with his feelings.
- You and Emma happened to be good friends and you’d even been to her house a couple times. You’d never met Mikey there though, you only knew that Emma had a brother and a grandpa. But you’d met her Grandpa and he was a nice old man.
- Mikey happened to be home but he ignored the fact Emma had someone over since he didn’t know any of them. But then he went into Emma’s room to tell her something and he froze when you’d said hi to him.
- HOW WERE YOU IN HIS HOUSE? IN HIS SISTER’S ROOM? WHEN DID YOU GUYS EVEN MEET?-
- Emma was surprised that you and Mikey knew each other, but brushed it off since she didn’t have to introduce Mikey.
- But then Mikey was visibly getting happy when talking to you, and Emma could swear she saw him blushing..
- That’s how Emma found out he had a massive crush on you, and she was a little mad because you and her had been friends longer than you’d known Mikey. She was sure that her brother’s feelings weren’t genuine. She didn’t want Mikey to ever confess, in case the relationship didn’t work out and you stopped being friends with her because it was awkward.
- But when she noticed his feelings were actually genuine she was hell-bent on getting him to confess.
- So he finally relented. But before he did anything, he begged Emma to ask you if you liked him, even just a bit.
- So she called you the next day and asked. You didn’t want to tell Emma that you liked her BROTHER so you avoided the question. But then she said she didn’t mind if you liked her brother and that she would be your wingwoman if you did. That’s when you finally confessed to her that you’d liked Mikey for a couple weeks now.
- She had to cover Mikey’s mouth to stop him from confessing right then and there over the phone.
- So after he found out he was happy but a little confused. Why would you like him of all people? But on the surface he was telling his friends things like “Of course she likes me, I’m the strongest!” (it’s giving gojo)
- Planned a wholeeeee thing to ‘indirectly’ confess to you. He didn’t want to do all the work in your guys’ obvious upcoming relationship. So Draken and Mitsuya planned something to help. (Mikey just sat there eating dorayaki and rambling on ab all the cute things he wants to do once you inevitably become his gf)
- The plan was that Emma would ask you to walk home with her, so then after school you’d wait until she came out to go. But Emma would take a while to leave you waiting. Then a short distance away from you, Mikey would talk to his friends with a loud ass voice. Then he’d be all like “Yeah, Y/N is really pretty, I would love to go out with her.”
- And then you’d be all like “omg!!! mikey, you’re the love of my life!!! <3”
- But he happened to be daydreaming the last part.. Although, his plan was bound to elicit SOMETHING!
- Little did they know Emma was a double agent and had told you her brother loves you and that you should confess. At first, you would’ve been like ‘no way!’. But Emma spent ages convincing you and managed to get you to do it on the same day Mikey was supposed to.
- So on the day he was going to indirectly confess, Emma got you to go outside right after school and ask to speak with him privately.
- He was caught a little off guard but went w/ you.
- To cut this short you guys kissed and are a couple now, yay!
- Now onto the actual relationship headcannons, I’m sorry the bit before was a lot longer than I expected 😭
- His friends gag whenever you guys kiss near them.
- “Jeez, get a room!”
- “Stop swapping spit and pay attention, Mikey you dumbass!”
- “It looks like he’s eating her, wtf??”
- “Y/N, are you okay?!! My brother is disgusting!!”
- guess who says each of those lol
- Will lick your cheek but gets shocked if you do it back.
- You’re the only person he shares his snacks with, and even then you barely get any 😔
- He loves taking you out on late-night motorcycle rides where you scream because he’s going way too fast.
- He doesn’t wear a helmet, but expects you to wear one for your safety.
- “Aren’t you gonna wear a helmet, Manjiro?”
- “Nope, I’m good.”
- Likes it when you call him by his actual name, since it’s been a while since anyone has. (he acts like he doesn’t tell everyone to call him mikey)
- One time, you wanted to have a cute date where you two read books w/ each other but he ended up falling asleep 10 minutes in.
- Took you out to eat after though, partly bc he gets hungry after waking up.
- But right after he ate, he fell asleep again and you had to call Draken to come help you lift Mikey 😭😭
- His sleeping and then eating thing is a vicious cycle
- Draken sees you as a sister, and if anyone were to be his wingwoman or wingman with Emma it would be you.
- You edge along their relationship by saying things to them like
- “Emma, Draken was asking about you!”
- “Guess what, Draken? Emma asked about you!”
- Mikey gets huffy though.
- Likes when you kiss him w/ lipstick on because it leaves a stain on his lips.
- You did face masks with him once and put cucumbers over his eyes but then he ate them 😒
- Loves eating things with you. Mf will show up at your door with bags of food from some new restaurant he found asking to try it with you.
- The first time you baked smth for him, he didn’t leave your side for a week.
- He’s actually very sweet when he wants to be, but it’s only when you two are alone. He likes to hold your hand whilst you’re watching something or reading. It makes him comfortable.
- You probably have to do his hair in the morning like Draken does 😭😭
- Draken appreciates it tho
- Even though Toman knows about you, you wouldn’t have to worry about other gangs getting to you because Mikey simply won’t let it happen. He’s already taken care of that by having Sanzu watch you as well! :)
- Sanzu did NOT like you at first but he grew to tolerate you then after a while he sort of liked you.
- When you and Mikey were first dating, he probably gave you the nastiest stink eyes. He also tripped you up once but no one suspected him..
- He’s very loyal, I don’t see him cheating or breaking up with you. Especially because he really loves you and can’t imagine his life without you now.
- Blanket hogger. Will literally tear it off of you whilst he’s sleeping and lay down on top of it. (sometimes he fakes being asleep to do this to you bc he likes pissing you off 😭😭)
- If you guys have an argument, I don’t think he’s the type of guy to say ‘sorry’ but he’ll do things to show you he’s sorry. He’ll you your favorite food, buys you a plushie or just hug you quietly.
- He will only say sorry if it was a serious argument, and if he was really in the wrong. But luckily you guys don’t really argue. Anytime Mikey feels an argument coming on, he’ll discreetly diffuse it by catching you off-guard with a kiss or something. (i can’t tell if that’s a little toxic or not)
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k2padfoot · 3 months
Text
Perfect
Eddie Munson x Y/n
summary: when your mind is plagued by bad thoughts Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure you just how perfect you really are. best friends to lovers.
warnings: TW. body shaming, mentions of anorexia, smoking, self loathing, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. SMUT!! (unprotected sex).
A/N: this fic is based on my own experience of skinny shaming. i don’t think a lot of people realize how hurtful it really is to be shamed in any way about your body. please be understanding and kind, all bodies are beautiful! also this is my first time writing smut so i hope y’all like it!!
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“She’s so skinny it’s gross.”
“Look at her chicken legs.”
“Does she even eat anything?”
“She looks anorexic.”
“Isn’t she eighteen? She literally looks twelve.”
When your ears caught echo of the painful words from the girls behind you, you abandoned your lunch tray, it’s contents untouched on the table. A rush of emotion had you swiftly leaving the cafeteria, seeking solace beyond its walls.
It's not as if the whispers were unfamiliar to you. They’ve been a haunting refrain since childhood, but with the passing of time their intensity swelled, casting a darker shadow over you.
You harbored a self-loathing, a visual disdain to your own reflection, fueled by the relentless comparison to every other girl in school. Your legs seemed too slender, arms too skinny, lacking in curves, and a chest that barley made its presence known.
You found yourself walking into the woods and taking a seat at the aging picnic table nestled in the clearing. As you settled onto its weathered surface you allowed your head to fall into your hands while the tears began to flow.
The cascade of tears persisted, blurring your perception of the world around you, but the subtle sound of someone settling into the seat across from you reached your ears.
Aware that it was none other than your best friend, Eddie Munson, you didn’t have the courage to lift your gaze and meet his eyes.
You felt his comforting touch on your wrist as he delicately withdrew your trembling hands from your face, his voice laced with genuine concern, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”
Your gaze barley rose to meet his, and the tears that welled in your eyes tugged at the strings of Eddie’s heart.
A fractured sigh escaped your lips, “You know just the perfect little cheerleaders spitting insults at me like usual.” You remarked with a scoff, a touch of bitterness in your voice.
A wave of distress swept over Eddie, unsettled by your words. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just a bunch of preppy assholes, I know how shitty it feels to be the focal point of their laughs but you don’t deserve that. How can I help?”
In the quiet recess of your mind you considered a little temporary solution. “Hmm, you got a joint on you by any chance?”
A sly grin splayed on his lips, “Of course I do.” He quickly reached into his backpack pulling one out and sparking the end, “Don’t go anywhere without one.” Your eyes were glued to his lips as he took the joint into his mouth and slowly exhaled the smoke.
You finally broke the unyielding hold of your gaze when Eddie passed you the joint, taking it in between your lips and drawing in the smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the way it left your lips.
After the joint was passed back and forth until it was no longer burning you began to gather your things.
“You going home?” Eddie asked as he started to get up from the table.
“Yeah, don’t really feel up to going back to class.” You said, following his actions standing up and swinging your bag over your shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll join you.”
A rough sigh left your lips, “No Eddie, you have to go back to class if you want to graduate this year. I’ll be fine, seriously don’t worry about it.”
Eddie was hesitant to leave, in all honesty he just wants to take you home and tell you how beautiful you are, but he knows he can’t. “If you’re sure.” He said.
“I am Eddie, I’ll see you later tonight okay? Now get back to class.” You teased and he nodded before turning around, reluctance lingering in his every step away from you.
Eddie Munson found himself entangled in an enchantment with you, a feeling reciprocated by your own infatuation of him. However, the unspoken truth hung in the air, an uncharted territory where vulnerability loomed, both fearing to confess thinking the other might not feel the same.
Eddie hurried out of Hellfire in anticipation to get to your house. It was a movie night just like every Friday night, and in the wake of todays events, Eddie felt an undeniable urge to make this night special for you. To get your mind off of the harsh realities of the day. So he stopped at the general store grabbing all of your favorite snacks and picked up one of your favorite horror films from family video, A Nightmare on Elm Street.
When Eddie pulled into your driveway he was confused to see no lights on, he knew your parents were out of town but not even your bedroom light was on. Eddie jumped out of the van and hurried to the door, he knew you were home because your car was in the driveway so with his hands full of snacks he knocked a few times.
After the fourth unanswered knock, he hesitated briefly before cautiously turning the doorknob, and to his surprise it was unlocked.
Venturing into the dimly lit living area, he called out your name, the echoes of his voice fading into an unsettling silence. He continued on through the house making his way upstairs to your bedroom. As he reached your bedroom, Eddie’s worry intensified at the absence of your presence.
In that moment a delicate murmur of hushed sniffles reached his ears coming from the direction of your bathroom.
As he got closer he could hear the sobs racking through your body resonating through the closed door like a haunted melody.
Slowly as to not startle you he eased the door open revealing a sight that sent a shiver through him. There you were, a fragile silhouette against the wall, your form cradled by the floor. Knees drawn close, hands entwined in strands of your hair, and your face pressed against the haven of your legs. 
“Y-Y/n?” Eddie's voice, a gentle whisper, faltered as he knelt before you. "Sweetheart, I'm here.” He uttered, his warm hands finding solace on the curve of your knees.
At the sudden awareness of his presence, your head snapped upward, revealing your puffy red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your words struggled to escape, “Shit, I-I forgot you were coming over, I’m sorry.” A wave of guilt and embarrassment draped over you as you let your head fall back to your knees and your fingers grip into your hair.
“Princess, please stop pulling at that beautiful hair of yours.” Eddie’s gentle touch eased your hands from your head. “Can you look at me?” He whispered, delicately lifting your chin, his eyes searching the depths of your own.
“Talk to me sweetheart, tell me what’s bothering you.” His soft voice accompanied the feather-light dance of his thumb along the curve of your cheek.
A pause hung in the air as more tears fell from your eyes. “I-I hate my body. I hate the way I’m so fucking skinny compared to all the beautiful girls at school. I wish that I didn’t look like this, it’s disgusting!”
A heavy ache settled in his chest as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Don’t say that, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen Y/n.” His words softly spilled.
“W-What?”
He smiled gently, fingers softly sweeping to push aside a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering there for a moment. “Yeah, to me your perfect.”
Once more, you lowered your head, “Eddie—
“Stop, just listen to me for a second.” Again, he tenderly lifted your chin coaxing your eyes to meet his. “The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Everything about you is so captivating, every facet of your being mesmerized me. From your striking eyes, to your infectious smile, the tiny little freckles like constellations on your skin. To the curves of your hips, and the shape of your thighs like a dance of contours, God you are just so beautiful Y/n.”
In that instant, your eyes welled up with tears stirred by his unexpected honesty. Caught in the shock of the moment, you instinctively surged forward bridging the gap as your lips met his in a tender, unexpected embrace.
Initially catching Eddie off guard, the awareness finally dawned on him that your lips had found his, instantly melting into the kiss. His hands ascended, gently cradling your face, while you fervently grasped at his soft locks. You both felt a whirlwind of sensations as neither of you had the intention to stop, yet the necessity for a breath of air became an undeniable plea.
As you reluctantly pulled away, a glistening thread of your mixed saliva separated your entwined lips. In that lingering moment you exchanged an intense gaze full of unspoken emotions.
“W-Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.” He admitted, a warm smile splayed across his lips that was woven with threads of love.
You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and the undeniable love swelling within your chest. “Me too.”
“Good, I’ve always liked you I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship incase you didn’t feel the same way about me.” He told you.
You let out a light hearted giggle, “Well that’s ridiculous isn’t it, because I’ve had feelings for you for years now.”
A curious frown etched across his brow, “So you’re saying you could’ve been mine all along?”
“Yes, because I’ve always been yours Eddie. I think we’ve wasted some serious time tiptoeing around our feelings for each other.” You let out a playful laugh.
“Well we don’t have to waste time anymore, do we?” Eddie said, his lips turning into a cunning grin.
You had to squeeze your thighs together when your eyes caught the bulge forming in his jeans. “Well, I-I guess you’re right.”
He roughly planted his lips on yours in a needy manner, swiftly pulling you to your feet and tugging you flush against his chest. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you towards your bedroom.
He softly tossed you onto the bed before reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner. “So beautiful.” Eddie muttered between kisses before his lips trailed to your neck and then to your ear. When he placed a gentle bite to your ear a hushed moan escaped your lips.
After placing a few more marks on your neck he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your t-shirt.
“W-wait!” you hastily rose your voice.
Eddie’s eyes went wide with fear, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Is this too much?”
“No! No, it’s just— I don’t want you to be disappointed.” A sad frown cast upon your face as you looked down to your hands.
“Disappointed? Baby I could never be disappointed by you. Please, let me show you how truly beautiful I think you are.” Eddie pleaded with you, his hands gliding softly up your arms until they reached your cheeks, gently cradling your face to meet his gaze.
You hesitated for a moment but you trust Eddie, and his earlier words echoed in the chambers of your mind reassuring your decision to trust him. “O-Okay, you can take it off.”
Gently Eddie pulled off your shirt and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest as to conceal yourself.
“Hey, don’t do that sweetheart, I want to see all of your beauty.” His gentle words resonated as he reached for your arms, slowly encouraging them away from the protective fortress of your chest.
“See, you’re gorgeous baby. Is it okay if I take this off?” He gestured to your lacy pink bra and you tentatively nodded.
The clasp of your bra broke free and Eddie took this chance to take the rest of it off, “Fuck.” He let out a hushed breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your breast. Without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a loud moan from you.
“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Eddie groaned against your tits.
Through muffled moans you pushed Eddie off of your chest, “Eds, c-can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you too.” You practically begged.
Eddie grinned at your anticipation before throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor. Your fingers ran across his exposed skin stopping to trace the tattoos adorning his chest. “You’re so pretty Eds.”
Immediately he closed the gap between you engulfing your lips into his with a hungry intent. Swiftly his hand slid into your shorts and found your clothed heat, he didn’t waste a minute before rubbing soft circles on your clit causing you to moan even more. “Eddie, please.” you plead against his lips.
“Shh princess, I wanna show you how pretty you are.” Before you could grasp any thoughts they were quickly swept away when he yanked down your shorts along with your panties earning a sultry gasp from your lips.
“Shit. You’re fucking unreal.” Eddie kneeled in front of you staring at you like a piece of art. He bent down planting tender kisses across the landscape of your stomach, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of your hips. Delicate kisses lingered in the warmth between each thigh, “So, so beautiful.” He whispered with an unwavering devotion
You could feel your heat dripping in anticipation. In any other situation you would’ve halted any advance to get your shirt off, let alone your pants, but this was Eddie. Eddie, who was currently worshiping you as if you were a divine being.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good princess.” He uttered just before engulfing his face into your pussy. “Ahh, fuck Eddie!” you cried out between breathless moans, his tongue lapping at your clit like a starved animal.
“That feel good baby?” Eddie struggled to say with his mouth on your cunt.
“Fuck yes baby, keep going!” you shouted out in bliss.
A wave of confidence swept through him at the passionate sounds he was eliciting from you, compelling him to slip a finger into your entrance while he worked at your clit with his tongue.
Intense waves of pleasure began to consume your body as his fingers plunged in and out of your hole, finding yourself having no control you gripped onto Eddie’s hair, “I-I’m gonna, fuck I’m—
“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you.” His words were enough to have your orgasm rushing through you as loud moans and Eddie’s name repeated like a mantra from your lips.
He quickly lapped up your juices, gazing at you with blown eyes before gently caressing his hands up and down the length of your legs. “Jesus, I love these gorgeous legs.” He uttered softly before trailing his hands up to your hips, delicately tracing them with the grace of his fingertips. “And these sexy hips.”
Before you knew it his hands were gliding up your stomach, ascending to your chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to your face. “Beautiful girl.” He whispered, allowing his thumb to tenderly stroke your cheek.
His sweet words stirred a spring of tears in your eyes, an irresistible surge of emotion that had you crashing your lips into his. Your lips worked in sync, tongues dancing in a fervent rhythm, creating a mess of wet kisses and the occasional collision of teeth.
“Eddie?” You pulled away from the kiss, “I want to feel you.”
Eddie could feel his cock angry against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you and only you. He quickly jumped up, pulling his pants down along with his boxers before he reclaimed his position, settling once again atop you. In a breathy whisper, he spoke softly, his lips grazing yours, “You don’t have to tell me twice sweetheart.”
He took his cock in his hands and swiped it through your glistening folds a few times before slapping it against your clit. “Oohh, Eddie please.” You begged.
A content smile traced its way across his lips as he hovered above your entrance, leaning down to kiss you before sinking into your pussy. An audible gasp could be heard from your lips as his cock filled you up, “Fuck you’re so tight.” Eddie practically moaned into your mouth.
He was taking it slow, indulging in the warmth of your walls, but you reached a point where you couldn’t take it any longer. “Eddie fuck me, fuck me faster!” You practically yelled after parting your lips from his, and your legs wrapped around his back, a deliberate gesture to have him deeper inside of you.
Eddie reached his limit, unable to resit your desperate pleas for him, unable to resit the way your walls sucked him in. “Yeah? You want more?” He said, words laced with desire. You watched as he began to relentlessly thrust into you, the way his cock slid in out of your wet hole so easily had your head spinning, and his hands trailing all over your body earned more sinful moans from your mouth.
“Mmm, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous Y/n.” He uttered before seizing your hips with a firm grip to draw you closer as he settled onto his knees, a new angle that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
With each rough thrust he skillfully targeted that sensitive spot you craved the most, you were seconds away from unraveling, that familiar euphoric wave rendering your brain with bliss and leaving you breathless. Your walls began clenching around him and he knew you were coming undone, “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”
As your orgasm washed over you, you were a moaning mess unable to stop yourself from the cries and disarray of words leaving your lips. “Ahhh! Fuck, oh fuck Eddie I love you!”
Eddie’s thrust we’re starting to get sloppy as his own orgasm was approaching, “Say that again.” He muttered, grabbing your chin with a gentle but firm touch ensuring you were looking at him.
“I love you Eddie.” You repeated for him, and Eddie’s hips rutted into yours roughly.
“Ohhh fuck Y/n, I love you so much!” He practically cried out, his lips latching onto yours as his cock twitched inside of you, his warm release spilling into your pussy.
Through breathless pants and sloppy kisses, Eddie laid you back down on the bed and slowly eased out of you. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” He told you before darting to your the bathroom.
When he came back, a fresh towel in hand, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked so fucked out against the pillows.
“I’m just gonna clean you up quick.” He said and in response you mindlessly nodded as he gently wiped away your mixtures of cum.
After tossing the towel into the hamper, he leaned down to grab his discarded clothes when you protested. “No don’t, lay with me?”
The warm smile upon his lips illuminated the room as he gracefully joined you in bed. You gently raised your head, resting it upon his chest, as he nestled below you. His arms instinctively wrapping around you, legs entwined, a profound sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped you both, as if this was the missing piece, the way you were always meant to be.
Eddie’s fingers gently threaded through you hair, almost sending you into a soothing slumber when his voice gently interrupted your sleepy state.
“Can I ask you something?”
You blinked your tired eyes glancing upward at him,“Hmm? Yeah sure.”
Eddie’s voice carried a delicate hesitation, “Did you really mean that? You know when you said—
“When I said I love you? Yeah, I meant it.” You interrupted before he could finish.
Emotion quietly unfolded in the depths of his gaze, a softness reflecting in his eyes at your words. “Good, because I did too.”
A broad smile crept across your cheeks as you leaned in sealing the connection with a kiss, a kiss filled with not only passion but the language of love.
As Eddie gently withdrew, his gaze lingered in a tender lock with your eyes, “One more question, can I be your boyfriend?”
A fluttering storm of butterflies danced within the confines of your stomach as a delightful giggle escaped you, “Yes. Yes, yes, 1000x yes!” The sheer excitement had you throwing yourself into his arms as he embraced you with an even firmer grip.
You knew with Eddie by your side, the shadows of doubt would never cast themselves upon you again.
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princesssmars · 6 months
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hazel falling in love with her childhood family friend is rotting my brain actually.
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wc : 1383
sfw and slight nsfw? fem reader. thanking emma and rachel for making hazel rich because i love writing rich people stuff. i’d say maybe a good mix of cocky!hazel and loser!hazel because i love both so bad.
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so for the first six years of her life she spends her winter holidays at a beautiful chalet in aspen with her parents, spending the days having snowball fights with her dad and falling asleep by the fireplace with her mom.
just like. she's rich, and her mom seems like one of thos wealthy women who loves to go on vacation to show off her perfect life and her perfect friends, so she or her husband definitely had a vacation house they'd visit every year.
when she turns seven they finally let her start skiing on the bunny slope, figuring it’s better than the little evil genius thing she does with the pots and the tiny snowmen. for a little kid she's pretty good at the sport already, if not taking the pizza and french fry tip a little too seriously.
about an hour in though, she's taking her umpteenth trip down the hill when a four foot mass slams into her right side, going at way above whatever speed limit was allowed in this area. she's lying flat on the ground, her right arm aching and her hound pounding and she's about ten seconds from crying when she looks over to see you, face planted in the snow and your shoulders shaking as you laugh like you're insane.
both sets of your parents rush over to make sure that the both of you are ok, and after you manage to calm down a bit and give hazel a very formal sounding apology that your mom whispered in your ear, you ask hazel if she can help you learn to control your speed on the slopes.
so after an hour of driving her crazy as she tries to teach you how to control your speed, your moms sit at a table watching over the both of you while sipping on their drinks and becoming fast friends.
ever since then, each winter was spent together. whether it was spending time in the snow, (hazel continued to excel at skiing, eventually giving up on trying to teach you), sharing stories of your normal lives over cups of cocoa at the cafe in the ski lodge, and helping each other decorate your christmas trees that you both had to beg your parents to buy.
whenever she went back home the days following new years, she’d count the days until she could see you again. to compensate for the time apart your parents let you send a horde of letters and e-mails to each other, letting the two of you share long phone calls on their phones when you were still to young to have your own.
hazels secret favorite hobby became photography. you couldn’t go twenty minutes without her shoving her polaroid camera in your face. she’ll tell you it’s because she’s using the vacation time to explore and try new things, and not that she constantly looks back over the photos of you with a big smile and a flush to her face.
(she also won’t mention that she’s addicted to the feeling she gets when pj and josie come over to her house and pj goes ona ten minute rant about how impossible it is that a girl that pretty could spend time with hazel without being insane. she ignores the insult because she’s hung up on the fact oh called you pretty.)
now i think hazel was pretty much always aware of the fact that she liked girls, if not because she realized that being obsessed with a certain scene from cruel intentions and always volunteering to play the husband when one of her friends wanted to play house on the playground was, in fact, not straight.
but at this point she’s maybe fifteen, she’s starting to grow into her looks and she’s definitely not ready to admit she might has a crush on you. at this point you both have had your own phones for a while, and she couldn’t even count the amount of times she had fallen asleep with you over facetime.
over the course of that year she often found herself wondering what your sexuality was. dumb ass stereotypes had her believing there was no way you, pretty and popular and preppy you could possibly be gay. and if you were a lesbian there was no chance that you'd like her back.
it was just made all the more confusing when once she had complained about how she hadn't had a girlfriend, let alone a first kiss yet and she was nearly halfway through high school with no experience for the hundredth time that you told her you had a solution for her on your next shared trip.
so you can imagine her shock when three days after landing in aspen you pull her into your room in your lodge and sit her on your bed before telling her you knew the perfect way to get more experience was to experiment with you.
"your first few times kissing and stuff can be pretty awkward, so why not just do it with me? i can show you the ropes and stuff.”
now on the outside she seemed normal, agreeing with an easy smile on her face, but on the inside her brain was playing the loudest tornado siren known to man.
it starts tame, the first few days consisting of you just telling her about your past experiences with girls and how to take it slow and everything. she knows its important but it honestly feels like torture. every time you talk to her she's wondering about what you'll do to start the physical lesson, if you'll set her down on her plush bed and softly touch her, or if you'll finally get fed up with the waiting like she is and press her and take her against a wall.
if you had known you would have prepared, but hazel was a freak in disguise and had decided that she was ready to take things into her own hands. you had invited her to sleep over at yours and drink hot cocoa while watching christmas movies and she had accepted in a heartbeat. what she didn't expect was for you to be wearing really cute pajamas, your legs covered in little hello kitty's and christmas trees with a plain red top and geez she could see you weren't wearing a bra.
hazel was a ticking time bomb, and when the two of you were sitting on the couch and she watched the reds and whites and golds dance across your face and you looked ovver at her with a 'what's wrong, hazie?' she exploded, smushing her lips onto yours in a mess of limbs and teeth.
she can feel your giggles in her mouth as she presses you down into the plush of the couch, her excited hands gripping your cheeks before brushing over your chest and gripping your waist, grinding her hips into yours and groaning when your giggle turned into high pitched moans.
it feels like she kisses you for hours before you reluctantly stop, your hands going to press into her shoulders when her head follows yours to resume making out. "hazel, as much as i'm enjoying this we were supposed to be taking this slowly. since when did you know how to...do that?"
"i dont know i just," she sighs as she tries to catch her breath, starting to get embarrassed about what a virginal mess she must look and be acting like. but you seem to like it, so she starts to not care all that much. "i just really want you. i wanna do everything with you."
you smile and hold her cheek in your hand, her eyes fluttering shut at your touch. you look at the gentle expression on her face, the slowing of her breath, and how her hips still occasionally stutter downward looking for yours, and you cant find it in your heart to deny her. you never really could.
"ok, hazie. we can do whatever you want-"
you're cut off before you can finish, the girl quickly rejoining your lips together and groping at your body once again.
when she gets back from vacation, hazel is less single, less unexperienced, and more than ready to throw this in pj's face.
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i kinda lost inspo for this can you tell :,(((( but i thought the idea was cute so take this thing. bye.
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physalian · 29 days
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What No One Tells You About Writing #4 (100 Follower Special!)
Have you got any that deserve to be on these lists? Don’t be shy! Send ‘em over.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
*This list contains mentions of assault, #4
1. Zero cursing is better than censored cursing
I made the mistake in the early days of writing a self-censoring character, and every “curse” she said just took the teeth out of the rest of the statement. I’m talking gosh, darn, dang, etc, not world-specific idioms a la “scruffy nerf herder” or “dunderhead” instead of “dumbass”.
Look to any American TV show that so, so badly wants to use f*ck or sh*t but has to appease the sensitive conservatives who still somehow believe strong language is worse than graphic violence and horrifying psychological damage. For shame! Your characters can be angry without expletives, so rework your sentences to include equally damning insults that don’t resort to potty mouths if you’re concerned about ratings.
Or go full-throttle into the idioms of the world or the time period like Pirates of the Caribbean. Or just… don’t. There’s zero modern cursing in the Lord of the Rings adaptation and not a single sentence that censors itself. The dialogue is above vulgarity and feels more *fantastical* that way anyway.
2. “Yeah, you aren’t the target audience.”
It’s kind of hilarious seeing the range of reader reactions to two characters I intend to have a romantic relationship. Some will go “I ship it!” after the first page of them together… and another will go “wait, I thought they were just friends” up until they kiss. Sometimes you might be too subtle, other times it might be better to just accept that you can’t rewrite your entire book to please one naysayer.
When I’m pitched a fantasy adventure book that turns out to be a by-the-numbers romance where no one is allowed to be a peasant and every important character is royalty in some way, with a way cooler fantasy backdrop, I get severely disappointed. That doesn’t mean the book is bad, it just means I’m not the target audience.
3. There is no greater character sin than making them boring
Unless you live in the wacky world we find ourselves in where any flaws whatsoever are apparently harmful depictions of so-and-so and not at all written with things like ~nuance~. I will gush over your heinous villain committing atrocities because he’s *interesting*. I will not remember Bland Love Interest who’s a generic everyman with zero compelling or intriguing traits or flaws.
There’s another tumblr post out there that I cannot find that says something like this, and I believe the post goes “his crimes are fiction, my annoyance is real”. Swap annoyance for boredom and you get what I mean. So, I don’t care what your character does so long as they’re memorable. I will either root for their victory or their doom, but I do need *something* to root for.
4. The line between “gratuitous” and “respectful” is actually very thick
Less what no one tells *you* about writing and more what no one tells screenwriters. Y’all do realize you can write a character who experiences assault without actually writing the assault, right? Fade to black, have them mention it in their backstory, or have the horrific aftermath as they come to terms with it. An abrupt cut to this devastated character when it’s all over and they’re alone with themselves can be incredibly poignant and powerful. This goes with anything sensitive, especially if it’s not coming from experience.
If you want to write it or film it respectfully, romanticizing assault, for instance, is when it’s framed as if either character has earned or “deserves” it. If the narrative in any way argues that it's justified. The victim might have "earned" it for any of the BS reasons we use in the real world, or the perpetrator might've "earned" it because of temptation, desire, pressure to assert dominance, etc. Representation is important, but are you “representing” to shed light on a misunderstood and maligned topic, or are you doing it to satisfy a fetish or bias in yourself?
5. Don’t let your eyes get bigger than your stomach
Fantasy has no limitations, which means you can dig way deeper into the well of your worldbuilding than you realize, until you look up and realize you’re stuck down there. I have never seen a more obvious inevitable disaster looming than the pilot of GoT season 5. Why? Nobody has any plans. They’re all just led around by whatever side quest the writers throw them on, twiddling their thumbs until the writers deign to pull the trigger on the White Walkers.
To the point that what should be a major character can skip an entire season because his arc is meaningless. Everything in the last half of that show was one big “eventually” while the story toiled around in an ever-expanding cast of characters and set pieces (seriously, it’s hilarious how jarring the extended version of the theme music became compared to the pilot episode to fit all these locations).
When you have too many directionless characters, too many plot elements, too many ideas you want to fully mature and get their due spotlight and then somehow combine them all together for a common foe in the end, writing can get tedious and frustrating very quickly. Why, I imagine, the book series remains unfinished. Fantasy is great for being able to create such complex worlds, but don’t be the snake that eats its own tail trying too hard.
6. No one cares about your agenda if you insult them to push it
This deserves its own post but here we go. Peddling an agenda is a paradox: those who agree with you won’t need to be preached to, and those who you want to persuade will instead reject you further because they feel belittle and disrespected. This is why so many recent “strong female characters” fail on both sides of the aisle. Feminists see an annoying caricature of the movement they’re passionate about. Antifeminists see an insufferable, shallow, liberal mouthpiece when they just want to be entertained. You have failed both sides, congrats.
The answer? Write a strong, nuanced, well-developed character. Then make them a woman. I know this has been said before but this BS keeps happening so clearly the screenwriters aren’t listening. Entertain me first. Entertain me so well I don’t even realize I’m learning.
7. Today’s audiences won’t react the same way as tomorrow’s
Sometimes genres or tropes get oversaturated and need a few years to cool off before audiences are receptive to them again—teen dystopia, anyone?—that doesn’t mean your story is inherently bad because it’s unpopular (nor does it mean it’s amazing because it is popular).
You should always write the book you want to read, not the book that chases trends. I can pick up a well-written teen dystopia I’ve never read before and enjoy it. I can continue to ignore Divergent because it has nothing to say. Write the book you want to read, but then accept that you might make no money because no one else wants to read it, not because they think it’s bad. And, who knows? You might get a boom of chatter months or years down the line when readers stumble upon an uncut gem.
8. Your characters don’t age with you
Depending on how long you’ve been working on your world and what age you were when you started, the characters, concepts, morals, and story you set out to tell might no longer reflect who you want to be as an author when all is said and done. Writing can take years, some of which can be incredibly turbulent and life changing. I wrote the first draft of my first original novel in my freshman year of college. Those characters and that draft are now unrecognizable and has left a world I’ve poured my heart and soul into in limbo.
I’ve slowly creeped up my characters’ ages. My writing has matured dramatically. The themes I wanted to explore in the height of the 2016 election are just demoralizing now. That book was my therapeutic outlet and, as consequence, my characters sometimes reflect some awful moods and mindsets that I was in when writing them. But nothing in that world grows without me tending to it. It’s not alive. Despite all the work I’ve done, there’s still more to be done, maybe even restarting the plot from the ground up. When I think of what no one told me about writing, staring at characters designed by someone I’m not anymore is the hardest reality to accept.
If you think I missed something, check out parts 1-3 or toss your own hat into the ring. Give me romance tropes. Mystery, thriller, historical fiction, bildungsromans, memoires, children’s books, whatever you want! Give me stuff you wish you’d known before editing, publishing, marketing, and more. 
Also, don’t forget to vote in the dialogue poll!
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aestherin · 1 year
Text
privacy
34: one mistake
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When did it all start?
Ah, it was when he first heard your singing voice during eleventh grade.
It was the during the time of the day when most students would flock to the cafeteria, rushing to eat their fill after half a day's worth of academic torture. Even before then, he already disliked crowded and hectic places. And so, he went the opposite direction of everyone.
Turns out he wasn't the only one with that idea.
The sweet and enchanting voice of a nightingale was what welcomed him the moment he arrived at the school's courtyard. Not rushing to eat lunch just to hear this was worth it, he concluded.
He didn't even know your name at the time, for you two were not in the same class. And when you turned around — good lord.
Your face was beautiful, but it wasn't familiar at all. It was odd, how this was the first time he saw you. He thought for sure that with an appearance like that, if he had ever met you prior, he wouldn't be able to forget you.
Was the school really that big for you two to miss each other every single time?
"Oh. A person. Uhm, hi?"
Fuck. Even your speaking voice was attractive.
Kunikuzushi was damned.
And he has been, for many years. Even up until now.
The present him looked up at nowhere, quietly laughing at himself.
How pathetic.
'You've liked her since you were still students, and you still haven't got the guts to even confess.'
'You're both famous people now, hundreds of thousands of people — maybe even millions — wanting the two of you... yet you're still stuck simply being her friend.'
Boy best friend, he argued with himself. But Scaramouche himself also did not know if that was better or worse.
"I have arrived," he heard a smooth voice. Kunikuzushi instictively frowned. This? This was the voice of the man you fell for?
He almost rolled his eyes. He could do better than this guy in front of him. He bets Ayato couldn't even sing.
"Sit."
Ayato looked around the area but found no chairs. "Where?" All he could see was cemented grounds, ramps, and curves. Why did they have to meet at a deserted skateboarding area anyway?
Scaramouche smirked. "Ah, sorry. I forgot you're a rich boy. We can't have you sitting on the dirty floor now, could we?"
It was as if a tick mark appeared on the taller man's head. Feigning a smile, he breathed, "Did you ask to meet me just to insult me, bastard?"
"Wow. Was it that obvious?"
"No, not really."
"I'm just getting back at you."
"Pardon? I don't even know you, aside from you being a celebrity. This is the first time we've met and suddenly you say you're getting back at me?"
"Shut the fuck up. You insulted me first."
"Hah?"
"You getting together with [Name] so easily was the biggest insult I've ever received in my entire existence."
Oh.
Now, Ayato was no idiot. Of course, he immediately realized the underlying message of Scaramouche's statement. Was that why this man called for him? Did he receive news of their so-called 'break-up' and was now planning to tell him that he's going to pursue you now that you're not in a relationship anymore?
Ayato's eyes followed Scaramouche as he stood up from the metal rail he was previously sitting on. Meanwhile, the shorter one looked and turned away, seemingly looking at a distance.
"I knew it was all fake, by the way," he started. "She accidentally tweeted about it on her private account, and I got to see it before she deleted it."
"Since when?"
"That was even before your drama was released."
"That was a long time ago. You knew yet did nothing?"
Ayato was confused. If Scara had feelings for you, why didn't he act on it even after he found out that the thing you had for him was all a fraud? It was not something that he could comprehend.
Not with his way of thinking.
Kunikuzushi, on the other hand, begged to differ. He believed himself to have done the right thing.
He has already kept his affection for you to himself for several years, surely a few weeks, months more wouldn't be that big of a deal, right?
And so he stayed. Stayed observing, kept contemplating — remained being just a friend.
"Of course, the thought of having her for myself crossed my mind at that moment..." He smiled fondly. "...but I still didn't go with it."
He suddenly turned around, not giving Ayato the opportunity to retort.
"Because despite the fact that it wasn't real —"
Scaramouche sighed.
"— even the archons know how in love she was with you."
That left him speechless. For a seemingly inconsiderate and rough guy to say those words...
How can he remain calm? Another person who has romantic feelings for you just told him about your sincerest sentiments for him.
"Why are you —"
Ayato cut himself off with a forced gag.
"What the fuck?" He glared at the man who just punched his gut. He unconsciously hovered his arm over the pained area; though it wasn't too powerful, the sheer unexpectedness of the punch was enough to make it sting.
"Just because she loves you doesn't mean you get a pass. My anger won't vanish quickly, airhead."
Airhead?
Did... did he just insult me?
Me?
Yours truly?
This made Ayato raise a brow. "Oh?"
"Why not punch me in the face then? Scared?" Ayato challenged with a devious grin.
A sarcastic laugh was not what he was expecting in return.
"Are you dumb? With my strength, I am more than capable of landing a punch on your face that would take more than weeks to recover," Scaramouche smirked. "What if [Name] sees it? And her, being the angelic being she is, would ask you about it. Then you, being the conniving blabbermouth that you are, would tell her my name."
The fuck?
"She would be mad at me. That's the least thing I'd ever want."
"So that's why you punched me in an area that isn't visible."
"Precisely."
Ayato made a face. After a while, he attempted to get back at the other man with a punch too, but failed miserably. "Oh? Why are you hitting me back?"
"What kind of question even is that?"
"I thought you knew you deserved that punch in the gut," Kunikuzushi stated in a matter-of-fact tone, both hands inside his pockets. To Ayato, it seemed like the man in front of him was bigger than him at the moment. He was sneering down at him.
"You hurt her. So I punched you."
Yeah, I really did.
Backing down and lacking argument, he opted to just sit down on one of the skateboarding ramps. "Remind me why we had to meet here out of all places again?"
"This place..." Scaramouche followed his actions, sitting on the ramp opposite of him. "This place is special to me and [Name]. I used to skateboard often when I was still a student."
"She would always come to me with drinks and snacks in hand. Then, unofficially, this became our weekend hangout spot."
"So, you've liked her since... you were students?"
Kunikuzushi hummed.
"How come you've never told her in that whole time?"
"I'm a coward," he chuckled. "I didn't want to lose what we have. I was afraid that we would stray apart from each other once I do."
Ayato could do nothing but smile sympathetically. "I bet you wrote songs about her."
"Albums," Scaramouche corrected him.
"Damn."
"Yeah. Damn." Ayato felt the return of an intense glare. "I wrote entire albums for her then you had the audacity to hurt [Name] enough for her to end your relationship despite being deeply enamored with you? Wow. Tsk, tsk. Talk about a big jerk."
"I'm aware," he sighed. "Now, can you stop with that? Unless you really only called me out here to make me realize how much I messed up — which let's be honest I really did, and I honestly deserve every single shit you throw at me, but —"
"Glad to know that you know."
Ayato frowned.
He sensed a shift in Scaramouche's mood. He assumed the other was getting serious now. "I called you here because I want you to fix this mess... and to ask you a favor —"
"— I'm leaving [Name] in your care."
"..."
"However," The man pointed at him. "One mistake, Kamisato. One mistake and I'll make sure she'd want to spend her lifetime with me instead."
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privacy — ayato x reader smau
prev. masterlist. next.
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NOTES -> that was long im sorry ahfbdhd -> also scara pls be mine instead🥹🙏
TAGLIST I (closed) @catsrkool @sukunasrealgf @redactedhimbo @layla240 @mxlkytea13 @itsactuallylina @milza12 @aixaingela @tatiratty @kimiesstuff @laventiseriou @kunihaver @bibisbestgirl @lunaavity @coquettemaiden @opchara @slvdsjjk @cotton-eee @lady-elodie @dearxiiao @wheneverthesunrise @heartswonder @chuduchok @headphonesrlif3 @lleoll @vnderthesunn @lizzardlady1234 @nekogakuro @rifran @atlatcaheart @ani-st @creammpuff @lunastarjay @kittycasie @poisoned-candy-apples @zannivrs @b0bafl0wer @moonlightaangel @elsoleil
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fictionalwh0ree · 6 months
Note
hiii!! i was wondering if u could do a billie eilish x fem!reader where maybe people finding out that billie has a gf and theyre being rlly shitty about it, so reader gets insecure and billie reassures her & like, defends her? total fluff, im such a sucker for billie fluff <3
coming out- billie eilish
summary: after billie comes out and fans piece together your relationship, you're flooded with hate comments. thankfully, billie is there to console you and defend you.
word count: 1k
warnings: mentions of homophobia/hate comments
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it was only hours after billie’s variety article had come out. only hours after she came out. the idea was that you’d give it a couple weeks or so before you’d come clean about your relationship and reveal yourselves to the world, but her fans were smart, and quick. they quickly pieced together your relationship, analyzing your every photo together as “friends,” talking between each other, until some fan who chose to stay anonymous confessed to seeing the two of you holding hands at some point. despite there being no photo evidence, everyone was quick to believe it, the chemistry was undeniable. people had shipped you together before but now it was real. Unfortunately, and expectedly, some “fans” were less than supportive. of course, people were homophobic, that was to be expected. the post on billieeilishtours that covered your rumoured relationship was a mix of support, skepticism, and hatred.
you hadn’t realized what had happened until your phone started blowing up, notifications every other second. billie was out, you knew she’d tell you to ignore it, but you couldn’t help it. you began to scroll through the fanpage post. some of the comments were vile, vile enough that your eyes were watering. some called the two of you slurs, others wished death on you. a couple of them blamed you for her sexuality, saying you had “ruined her.” you even saw some calling you a homewrecker, saying you had broken up her and her ex-boyfriend’s relationship. truth was you had been friends for a while, but you didn’t start dating until months after their break-up. the comments struck a nerve, you fought the urge to start sobbing.
then, a notification came from your messages.
bil<3
on my way home
you didn’t know whether she had been seeing what you’d seen, and you didn’t want to risk worrying her, so you wiped your eyes, put your phone to the side, and put on a movie while you laid in bed. you tried your hardest to focus on the movie, but your mind flashed back to everything you’d read. you picked up your phone, ready to scroll through tiktok or instagram in hopes of taking your mind off things, but as you texted some friends and scrolled through posts, your notifications were going crazy. her “fans” had started to attack you, commenting hateful things your posts, requesting to dm you, all to call you ugly, or say you weren’t good enough for her, or to call you a slur. suddenly, every post was filled with insults. tears brimmed your eyes again, and you couldn’t hold them back. you cried softly, the words imprinted into your brain.
as another attempt to distract yourself, you opened tiktok, but you encountered the same problem. different users with billie as their profile pictures commented relentlessly. the seriousness of the situation had taken you from crying silently to sobbing uncontrollably. you wanted to put your phone down so bad, but they drew you in, the words starting to convince you yourself of these things. you didn’t even hear the front door open, or the footsteps up the stairs. in fact, you only noticed billie was home when the bedroom door opened. you quickly threw your phone to the side and wiped your tears with your sleeves, sniffling.
“baby, did you see-” she began as she opened the door, stopping once she saw the state you were in. her face dropped into one of concern.
“hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, coming to sit next to you.
“nothing,” you mumbled, but the tears that were still rolling made you very unconvincing.
she picked up your phone, seeing what you had seen. she took a moment to read some of them before looking back up at you, tears brimming her own eyes.
“y/n,” she said pitifully before wrapping her arms around you tightly.
you hugged her back, the two of you crying into each others arms for a moment before you whispered something so gently that she probably wouldn’t have heard it if you were even an inch further from her.
“they’re right,” the words were followed by soft sobs on your part.
billie broke the hug, looking at you with a shocked and confused expression.
“no,” she said firmly, her eye contact unbreaking, “they’re wrong.”
“how do you know?” you sniffled, wiping your own tears off your face.
“you’re perfect, you’re sweet and you’re caring, you’re the most selfless person i know, you know me better than anyone else, and you’re beautiful,” she confessed, offering you a smile which you returned, “if anything, i’m the lucky one.”
“alright, i don’t know if i’d push it that far,” you laughed softly.
“they’re just jealous y’know?” she said.
“uh huh,” you said sarcastically, smiling at her.
“i’m serious!” she smiled back.
“those bitches are all jealous because we have what they want. can you blame them?” she joked, causing you to laugh.
she placed a kiss on your lips before pulling out her own phone.
“we’re gonna settle this right now,” she said as she opened instagram, picking photos of the two of you together to post.
“you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you said.
“i want to,” she assured.
she saved it as a draft, making you a bit confused. she opened her stories, making a black screen before starting to type, thats when you realized what she was doing.
some of the comments i’ve seen about me and my girl today are absolutely disgusting. if you can’t find it in your heart to support us, then shut the fuck up and fuck off. don’t call yourself my fan if you have or were going to comment hateful shit on any posts about us.
the text made you smile to yourself. she posted the draft from earlier with a heart in the caption and immediately disabled the comments. she shared the post to her own story and added a text above it.
anyway, here’s some gay ass shit for all u real fans
you laughed at the text as she posted it and set her phone down. you kissed her hard, a smile on your lips and one on hers.
“i love you,” you said.
“i love you more.”
--
taglist: @lizziecuervo1996 | @vickycarvalhoo | @mulof | @estrellarimar | @ready-4-fanfiction | @caitlink26 | @augustvandyne | @l0nlyl0ve | @billiestitties | @count-orlok | @juliettexco | @nataliasknife | @mywlwwriting | @thenazwife | @h1ppieth1ngs | @shxwty43 | @lovellydolly | @niaaalovesfiction | @starskyshasmith18 | @onlyperc | @lovelyy-moonlight | @Geed3 | @blondetxxz | @mxqdii |
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vanillawurld · 7 months
Text
༊*·˚How To Disappear
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✧.* Pair - Johnny Cage x Fem! Reader
✧.* Tags & Warnings - Cursing, angst, pregnancy, acceptance, distance, love, slight fluff(?)
✧.* Summary - Y/N remembers the life she had with Johnny. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the beauty. After a while of being a young single mother, she finally realizes that in order to move on, she needs to accept her past.
✧.* Extra - FINISH ME JOHNNY also I'm bad at summaries... also "D/N" means daughters name :3
✧.* Word Count - 1,884
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Y/N hated reminiscing on her past with Johnny cause if she thought about the good things that happened, she also had to think about the bad things. She hated thinking about the ugly part of their relationship. Every time he was upset with her, she felt like she failed him as a girlfriend and a person in general. Every time she was upset with him, he felt like the shittiest man on earth. Their arguments didn't make things any better.
But even through all the tears, anger, and arguments, Y/N loved Jonathan more than anything in the world. Johnny Cage was just his persona that all of Hollywood knew, but in her arms, he was just Jonathan Carlton. He had no issue with it either. People described Johnny as a sarcastic actor who wanted all of the attention on him, but not in Y/N's eyes. In her eyes, Jonathan was a loving man who was nothing like what the people said.
Y/N still remembers the night they met. They met on Venice Blvd on a summer night which was lit up by the cars passing by and the street lights. Y/N wasn't at her best when they met. She felt like everyone was out to get her and life was treating her unfairly. She couldn't help but cry at the fact that her life was going downhill. Johnny saw her sitting on the sidewalk and felt like he needed to do somethin in order to cheer her up, or get to the bottom of why she was so upset.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" Y/N heard a deep voice ask her. Y/N looked over her shoulder and saw a handsome man that she recognized.
"Oh... I know you. You're Johnny Cage," she smiled a bit "My little brother loves your movies." Johnny smiled at the recognition, but he ignored his pride and ego to make sure the woman in front of him was okay.
"Are you okay?" he gently asked her.
"Oh, I'm fine. Thank you." She said while wiping a tear away, but she wasn't fine and Johnny knew this.
"Well, if you were fine, you wouldn't be sitting alone on the sidewalk, crying at night," he sat next to her and took a good look at her face. She was gorgeous. Johnny was taken aback by how stunning she was. Even though her face was full of tears, slightly puffy lips, and she was feeling very vulnerable, she still looked like an angel according to Johnny. "Come on pretty lady," he commented "hit me. What's up?"
Y/N looked at him and realized that he actually wanted to listen to her. She looked down at the road in front of her and couldn't get her reasoning for feeling miserable. She managed to say one vowel before breaking down crying. Y/N was never good at expressing her bad emotions. Especially sadness. Before she can say anything while she's crying, her throat closes up and her mind just keeps telling her to cry.
Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, feeling concerned and bad for her. He gently guided her head on his shoulder and let her cry it out. It was the least he could do. He knew he couldn't force her to tell him what was wrong.
From that day forward, was a beautiful, blossoming relationship. Johnny would contact Y/N any way he could to get her to hang out with him and sometimes his friends. Y/N only liked hanging out with Johnny. She didn't like his friends. They were all so aggressive and she never understood why Johnny would hang out with people like them. Whenever Johnny and Y/N would hang out with his friends, she would watch them hit each other "playfully" and spew insults, while Johnny just watched and drank beers.
Throughout the whole relationship, Y/N was there for Johnny. No matter what he did, she was always there. When he would practice martial arts with someone, she was there to heal the wounds. When he was drunk after a party, she was there to help him sober up. When he was having any trouble, she was there for him. And that's one thing that Johnny always acknowledged.
Johnny admired how strong Y/N was. She was always there for him even if he managed to fuck up. He realized that Y/N was actually in love with him and not after his fame. For the first time in a good while, he had someone who was willing to be there for him. She wasn't like his ex who would point out his every flaw or his friends who would just mess around for the fun of it. She was a unique woman who managed to capture his heart.
Their relationship seemed perfect. Both Johnny and Y/N believed there was nothing in the world that would pull them apart! Which was what Y/N believed. When they hit their 3 year anniversary, that's when things started to go downhill. The more Johnny started to fuck up, the more tired Y/N was getting. She developed a bad habit of trying to make excuses for him. She hated it. She hated hearing him say "I'm sorry baby, I'll change for you." Every time he would say that, it was like nails to a chalkboard. Every time he would say that, she knew he was bullshitting. He never changed.
Y/N believed that his Johnny Cage persona was taking over. She didn't recognize her Jonathan Carlton. The same man who was there for her on Venice Blvd. He used to be so kind and welcoming to her. She never understood what happened to that man. Every time he would make her cry, she just wanted to disappear. From him, from herself, and from the world. Y/N believed that Johnny made her cry more than she cried when she was a kid. Every time he made her cry, she wondered what she did to deserve the treatment he was giving her.
'Is it me? Am I not pretty enough?'
'Is he talking to someone new?'
'Am I too possesive?'
'Is he tired of my jealousy?'
(Granted, Johnny never talked to any woman in any way. He never cheated on Y/N because he thought cheating were for weak and ugly people.)
Whenever Johnny found Y/N crying because of him, he would feel like complete shit. He hated making her feel that way, but he didn't understand why he kept unknowingly doing it.
When the relationship ended, it felt like both Y/N's and Johnny's world were crashing down. Johnny knew the day was gonna come, but he never knew when. He begged her to stay and try to remember all of the good times they had, but Y/N just wasn't having it. Johnny still remembers what she told him that made him realize it was all his fault.
"No, I'm done. For years I've been defending you not for the public, but for me. I would give myself multiple reasons not to be mad at you and try to figure out... everything, but all you did was make things worse! I'm tired and honestly, I've been tired. Of you, the fame, and everything. I tried to make things right with you and it seemed like you didn't want to."
What she told him on that day, will forever be engraved in his head. He lost the love of his life on that day.
Y/N didn't want to leave, but she had no choice. Even when she walked out those doors, she still loved him. Even though she was upset, she still wanted to run back into his arms for one last moment of comfort. But she held herself back, which she both hated and was proud of herself for.
What Y/N didn't know was when she was walking out of Johnny's life, she was entering a new one. She was pregnant with Johnny's baby and she didn't even know it, neither did he! When she did find out, part of her thought her life was ruined, but the other part thought this was a new start for her. She wanted to get rid of it but decided against doing so since she believed she would live to regret not taking advantage of the chance to become a mother.
When she had the baby, it was a living hell for her. She had family that helped her out, but the person that she needed was Johnny. She needed Johnny on her side, but she couldn't just show up on his doorstep randomly and give him the baby. She hated the fact that she still missed him. She let that hate consume her and pledged to do motherhood on her own without "that low-life Hollywood scum" in her life. Even though deep down, she knew she needed him back.
A few years forward, Y/N managed to get a beautiful home with her beautiful daughter and two adorable Siamese and Siberian cats. She was doing well in life. The new city she lived in was just as beautiful as Venice. She loved her life. She loved her daughter, she loved her cats, she loved her home, and she loved... her Johnny. Y/N accepted the fact that she will always love Johnny and in order to move on from her "hatred" she had to accept she had a life with him.
Every time she looked at her daughter, she saw a bit of Johnny in her. Which made her smile every time. From time to time, Y/N regrets the fact that she never tried to get in contact with Johnny to tell him about their daughter.
"Mommy, you got a letter!" D/N said. Her voice made Y/N snapped out of her thought bubble. She grabbed the letter and realized the handwriting on the envelope.
'No... is it really him?'
She grabbed a knife to open the envelope. Every second it took for her to open the letter, her heart began to pound harder. When she finally opened it, she felt like crying. It really was him.
'Dear Y/N, I know it's been years since we've even seen each other. A lot has changed since you've been gone. I went on this wild adventure that I'd love to tell you about someday. If you even want to meet up. The last time we spoke was a depressing day and I understand if there is still hard feelings there. Anyway, I got in contact with one of your cousins and they told me that you're now a mom! Congratulations! I asked about the father, but they wanted to keep that private which I understand. The only thing they told me was that he was out of your daughter's life. I hope you're doing well in life. If there is any trouble, don't be afraid to contact me (XXX-XXX-XXXX). There's so much that I want to discuss with you, but again if there are still hard feelings, I understand. I hope this letter reaches you. The last thing I want to tell you is that, no matter what happens, I will always be there for you.
Sincerely, Jonathan Carlton"
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˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks
RUSHED ENDING WOMP WOMP
also I was too lazy to proof-read so, oops
im back i think... idk i'll write if i feel like it tbh
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gubsbuubs · 3 months
Text
Pacify Her
Pairing: Chip Taylor x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 3.5K
Warnings: Drinking, kissing, mention of Chips toxic relationship with Liza, just pure fluff.
Summary: Based on the song Pacify Her by Melanie Martinez. Y/n can’t shake the feeling that she should save her neighbor from his unhappy relationship.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated - request are open 🍒
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With dinner plans bubbling in my mind, I sauntered into my garden, hopping down the porch steps. The herbs at the front were calling my name, so I leaned in close, running my fingers over their leaves.
The earthy aroma of soil and blooms enveloped me in a familiar embrace. The setting sun cast long shadows across the street, illuminating the scene with a golden hue.
From the corner of my eye, I glanced between the boards of the fence that separated my house from the neighboring one.
A flicker of movement caught my attention, and I observed as a figure emerged from the house, shoulders slumped and hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn-out denim jeans.
It's Chip Taylor, a familiar face, a man worn down by a relationship that seems to drain him of life.
Chip and his girlfriend Liza had moved in a couple of months ago, but it didn't take long for me to realize that she was not the right fit for him. From the start, their relationship seemed marred by toxic behaviors. Most often, it was Liza's voice that echoed through the thin walls of our homes, sharp and cutting as she berated Chip with insults and name-calling. He remained mostly silent, his voice a rare presence in their heated arguments, as he seemed to absorb her words with a quiet resignation. It was clear that she had a mean streak, and it pained me to see Chip subjected to such mistreatment.
Chip was a great guy in every sense of the word. Despite the storm brewing within his relationship, his true nature shone through like a beacon of warmth in our otherwise quiet neighborhood. He had a heart of gold, always going out of his way to make others feel comfortable and valued. His caring nature was evident in the small gestures he made, whether it was offering a friendly smile or lending a helping hand to a neighbor in need.
Beyond his kindness, Chip possessed a sweetness that was infectious. His laughter was like music, filling the air with joy whenever he allowed himself a moment of genuine mirth.
When Liza's sharp tongue is nowhere to be heard, Chip and I relish in each other's company, sharing stories that bring smiles to our faces. It all began with casual chats over the fence, and then, when my faucet started leaking, he offered his handiwork skills without hesitation.
But it didn't stop there. When my washer broke down or when my garage gate refused to close, Chip was there once again, ready to lend a helping hand.
His willingness to assist never failed to impress me. With each random problem that cropped up around my house, Chip was there, offering his support without expecting anything in return.
Now, I could proudly call Chip my friend.
We often share stories over a cup of coffee on my porch swing. Chip appreciated having someone who listened to him, and there I was, gladly fulfilling that role. It was clear that he valued our time together, and I was more than happy to provide a listening ear.
There's a sense of ease and comfort in our conversations, as if we've known each other for years. Chip's laughter fills the air as we exchange stories and bond over special occasions. He seems to be genuinely happy to be around me.
However, there's a noticeable shift in his demeanor when Liza is around.
As soon as he senses her impending arrival, he quickly makes his way back to his own house, eager to avoid any potential confrontation. It's as if he's a different person when he crosses the fence, leaving behind the warmth and openness.
Having shared my opinions on Liza's actions several times before, Chip knew where I stood—that she was often unkind to him and didn't deserve his unwavering loyalty. Despite my concerns, he seemed trapped in a cycle of toxic behavior, unable to break free from the grip of their troubled relationship.
It was hard to understand why he stayed with Liza despite her hurtful behavior. Perhaps he saw something in her that others couldn't, or maybe he held onto the hope that she would change. Regardless, it was evident to those around them that Chip deserved better.
As I observed Chip's weary demeanor, Liza appeared, her sharp features etched in a perpetual scowl.
I observed her as she made her way towards the street where her parked car stood, with Chip trailing closely behind her. "No! You stay here!" she yelled at him, and he obediently remained, abiding by her command, like a dog.
Liza's departure from the house is met with a palpable sense of relief from Chip, evident in the way his shoulders sag and his expression filled with exhaustion. Oblivious to his mood, Liza prattles on about her plans for the evening as she climbs into her car, blasting music as she drives away with an air of self-importance.
Chip walked toward his house with a heavy heart and a heavy sigh, his steps slow and deliberate. Leaning against the column of his porch, he stared off into the distance, admiring the sunset as it painted the sky with hues of orange and pink. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't even notice me standing just on the other side of the fence, silently watching over him with a mixture of sympathy and concern.
"Hi, stranger," I said softly as I rose from the ground, a handful of fresh herbs cradled in my palm. Peering over the fence, I met Chip's gaze, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Y/N! I didn't see you there," he replied warmly, his eyes meeting mine with a glimmer of appreciation.
I leaned casually against the fence, the scent of basil and rosemary lingering in the air between us. "How's your day been?" I asked, genuinely curious about his well-being.
Chip sighed, his smile fading slightly. "It's been... rough," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground briefly before returning to meet mine. "Liza and I had another argument. She stormed. Said she'd be back by Sunday. Doesn't want to deal with me today." His face scrunched up, as if the discomfort from the situation effected his body too.
I nodded sympathetically, understanding the strain in Chip's voice. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Chip looked up at me, "Thanks," he said, his voice filled with hesitation. "But I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it just yet, but it means a lot that you're here for me." I nodded understandingly, giving him a reassuring smile.
"Hey, how about joining me for dinner tonight? I was just about to cook up a batch of spaghetti and meatballs. It's nothing fancy, but I'd love the company."
Chip's face brightened up at the invitation, a small smile forming on his lips. "That sounds really nice," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of excitement. "I could use some distraction and good food right now." He admitted.
"It smells amazing in here, Y/N" Chip remarked with genuine appreciation as we stepped into my kitchen.
I chuckled and gestured towards the pot on the stove. "Well, I can't take all the credit. My secret ingredient is my grandma's homemade marinara sauce. It's always been a hit" Chip's eyes lit up with curiosity as he leaned in to take a whiff of the delicious aroma.
"I can't wait to try it," he said eagerly, his stomach growling in anticipation. I handed Chip a spoon and watched as he took a small taste of the sauce. His face instantly lit up with delight, confirming that my grandma's recipe was as good as ever.
"This is incredible," he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise as he took a bite of a meatball. "Oh I love homemade meals; this is not something I usually get to eat."
His words struck a chord within me, a reminder of the neglect that Chip seemed to endure with Liza. I could only imagine the lack of care he received when it came to something as basic as food.
"I'm glad you like it, Chip," I replied softly, a pang of sadness tugging at my heart. "It's unfortunate that you don't get to enjoy homemade meals more often."
Chip's expression softened, his gaze meeting mine with a hint of vulnerability. "Yeah, well, Liza and I usually just eat junk or order takeout. It's... not exactly the healthiest or most satisfying option."
"Everyone deserves to enjoy good food, especially when it's made with care and love," I said softly.
It pained me to know that someone so deserving was out there being treated so badly, especially when I knew I could treat him so well.
We decided to eat on the sofa, Chip offered to set the coffee table with plates and cups as I finished preparing the food in the kitchen.
"Wine?" I inquired without glancing away from the stove.
"Most definitely, please," came Chip's prompt reply from the living room.
I smiled to myself, pleased by his enthusiasm. "It's in the fridge, your pick!" I called back, knowing he appreciated the gesture of choice.
With the tray of food in hand, I made my way to the living room and set it down on the table. Chip was there, seated, carefully unscrewing the bottle of wine and pouring each of us a glass.
"Nice pick, Taylor," I remarked, nodding appreciatively at the bottle he had selected.
As the dinner progressed and we chatted and laughed, I couldn't help but notice how Chip really changed when he was around me.
His eyes lit up with each mouthful, and it warmed my heart to see him enjoying it so much.
At one point, he even got a bit messy with the sauce, and I had to gently wipe it off his chin with a napkin. It was a small, intimate moment that made me feel closer to him. As I leaned in, our eyes briefly locked, and there was a fleeting sense of connection that sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't help but smile as I watched him savor every last bite, knowing that I had succeeded in bringing him joy.
His demeanor was totally different from earlier, the tension seemed to melt away from his shoulders, as he leaned back into the sofa, a look of satisfaction gracing his features. With a contented sigh, he raised his glass to his lips, savoring the remaining traces of wine.
When Chip's gaze met mine, I felt a rush of anticipation. His eyes traced the curves of my face with a tenderness that spoke volumes, and then they drifted down to my lips, lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
I couldn't shake the feeling that Chip deserved so much more than what he had been getting from Liza. It tugged at my heartstrings—this overwhelming urge to show him that he deserved to be loved and cherished.
"Stay away from things that aren't yours." Liza's voice echoed in my head, a haunting reminder of a previous argument we had. Chip had helped me with something around the house, so I offered him some cookies to take home.
Later that night, I was disturbed by banging on my door and screaming. It was Liza, yelling and screaming uncontrollably. The reason behind her fury? The innocent act of offering cookies earlier in the day.
But in right now I couldn't help but wonder if breaking those rules was worth it, if it meant bringing joy to someone who had been overlooked for far too long.
She had accused me of trying to steal her man, but was he really hers if he wanted me so bad?
After dinner, Chip and I tackled the dishes together, falling into an effortless rhythm. He washed while I dried and stored, our movements synchronized. It felt as if he belonged here, by my side in my house, his presence seamlessly blending with the familiar surroundings.
As we worked, stealing glances and chuckling together, there were these little touches, accidental but electrifying. Each brush of our hands or shared smile sent a jolt of excitement through me, leaving me yearning for more.
As I finished putting away the last dish, a sense of awareness tingled at the back of my mind, prompting me to turn around. There he stood, leaning casually against my sink, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on me with unwavering attention.
"What's on your mind, mister?" I teased, a smile playing on my lips as I faced him.
He chuckled lightly, tilting his head to the side with a soft smile. I could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, as if he was debating whether or not to share his thoughts.
"I just don't know how to thank you," he admitted, his voice coated with sincerity.
I replied, my smile widening. "It was my pleasure. Just seeing you happy is enough.
“You're always so good to me. You listen to me... You've fed me... You're a good person in my life, and I don't know what I would do without you." Chip's voice cracked, wavering as tears welled up in his eyes “You've shown me kindness when no one else would, and I am forever grateful for that." My heart swelled with warmth as I reached out to him, pulling him into a warm embrace before his emotions could overwhelm him.
"Hey, hey, none of that, no crying" I murmured softly into his chest, my arms wrapped securely around him. "You don't need to thank me for being there for you."
As Chip relaxed into my embrace, his chin nestled against the top of my head, I felt a sense of tranquility wash over us. His warmth enveloped me, comforting and reassuring, as he let out a deep sigh of relief.
With my cheek pressed against his chest, I could feel the racing rhythm of his heartbeat, a frantic drumming that gradually began to steady.
"You know, Y/N" Chip began softly, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between us. "I don't think I've ever felt as happy and appreciated as I do when I'm with you."
His words took me by surprise, and I lifted my head from his chest to meet his gaze.
"You just... you have this way of making me feel seen and heard, you know? Like, I matter." I felt a swell of emotion in my chest at his words, and I reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"You do matter, Chip," I said softly, my voice tinged with sincerity. "Even if she doesn't show you the appreciation you deserve,"
Chip's expression softened at my words, "I know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But sometimes it's hard to see things clearly when you're in the thick of it."
I reached out to gently squeeze his cheek, offering him a reassuring smile. "I understand," I said, my tone gentle yet firm. "But you don't have to keep lying to yourself, Chip. You deserve to be with someone who truly loves and appreciates you, someone who sees you for who you are."
Chip's eyes flickered slowly acknowledging the truth in my words.
Chip's reluctance was palpable, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to come to terms with the truth. A shadow of doubt lingered in his eyes. "I... I do love her," he said quietly, his voice hesitant as if trying to convince himself of the truth of his words. "At least, I think I do. I mean, we've been together for so long... It's what's expected, isn't it? But lately, I've been questioning everything."
"Stop lying with those words," I urged, my voice soft but firm. "You know you don't love her."
I sighed, frustration bubbling up within me as I watched him wrestle with his feelings. "She's not good for you, Chip," I confessed, my voice tinged with exasperation. "I can't stand her whining. She's always putting you down, calling you names, and ordering you around. She doesn't deserve you." My voice trailed off into a whisper as I admitted, "Loving her seems tiring."
Chip's hands reached out to cup my face, as my eyes started to water, his touch gentle as he wiped a tear off of my cheek. I felt a sense of comfort wash over me in his embrace. The idea of him being stuck with someone so vile made me sad, and I couldn't help but yearn for him to break free from the toxic cycle he was trapped in.
"I... I don't know what to do," Chip murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching mine for guidance.
"You don't have to figure it out right now, Chip," I reassured him, gently cupping his cheek. "But you know deep down that she's not good for you. You deserve to be with someone who truly sees you and appreciates you for who you are."
" I think I've known that for a while now. Y/N when I'm with you, everything just feels different. It's like I can finally breathe, like I'm truly myself. I've been trying to persuade myself that I love Liza because that's what I'm supposed to do," he paused before continuing, "but deep inside, I've always known that it's you who makes me feel alive."
As Chip's confession lingered in the air, a mix of emotions swirled between us. With a gentle lowering of his head, our noses brushed against each other, and he reached out, pulling me closer to him. One hand found its place on my waist, drawing me in as our lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. The kiss was slow and tender, as if time had momentarily stood still.
But just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Chip pulled away, his eyes wide with surprise and uncertainty, as if he had been taken aback by his own actions.
With a shaky exhale, Chip spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry," he murmured, his words filled with regret. "I shouldn't have done that. You're being a good friend, and I took advantage."
"No, Chip," I pleaded softly. "Don't apologize. I wanted that kiss. I've wanted it for so long." And with that, I leaned in once more, closing the distance between us.
Our lips collided in a fierce, urgent kiss, fueled by pent-up desire. It was a messy tangle of tongues and lips, each movement desperate and hungry. His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, while mine grasped at his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as if trying to anchor myself to him.
With each passing second, the intensity of our kiss grew, and the heat between us rose to a fever pitch.
As we pulled away, Chip's eyes searched mine, "I... I don't want to go back to my place," he admitted, as he pressed his forehead on mine.
His words sent a surge of warmth through me, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady my racing heart. "You don't have to," I replied softly, reaching out to take his hand. "You can stay here if you want."
A faint smile played at the corners of Chip's lips, his gaze softening as he squeezed my hand. "I'd like that," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
"What about Liza?" I asked softly, unable to shake off the lingering worry about potential complications.
Chip met my gaze, his eyes steady and determined. "She won't be back until Sunday," he replied, his voice carrying a note of finality. "But even if she was, it wouldn't matter. I don't care. You're the one I want to be with."
As our lips met once again, our passion intensified, and we found ourselves slowly making our way to my bedroom.
Chip gently lowered me down onto the bed, his touch firm yet tender. I could feel the heat of his body pressing against mine as he settled on top of me, our bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were made for each other.
Chip's tender caresses traced delicate paths across my skin, igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down my spine. His hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of my body with a skillful touch that left me breathless. In that moment, worries and inhibitions melted away, replaced by an overwhelming desire. Our bodies moved in harmony, fueled by the raw passion that consumed us.
As clothing fell away, discarded slowly and tenderly, we clung to each other with an unyielding grip. There was no room for hesitation or doubt. Each whispered word and soft sigh added to the symphony of our passion, echoing through the room.
In the embrace of our love, we surrendered to sleep. Bodies entwined, hearts beating as one, we found solace in each other's arms. In that moment, the past and future faded, leaving only the tranquility of the present as we drifted into slumber.
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Hi darling!~ (I'll immediately stop calling you that if you don't like it/don't feel comfortable lol) Lately your girlies been obsessing over the song 'Older' by Isabel LaRosa that's been going BADSHIT popular on tiktok so I thought I'd spill some thoughts~
Teacher!Vil X Yandere(ish)!Student!Yuu
Summary : Yuu who grew up with a bad father and gained heavy daddy issues gets attached to her teacher after he starts giving her the fatherly love and care she never got, always being nice and checking up on her. at first it's a simple silly crush on her teacher but after time it blooms into an obsession where she starts lusting after him and craves constant validation from him. In her eyes he's the perfect guy, he's older and has more experience, he could never treat her wrong. even though he may be colder from time to time she believes he has a soft spot for her. Poor Yuu when the teacher who she fell so madly inlove with doesn't return her feelings and begins distancing himself from her.... Or will he?..
(Your ending <3)
Surprise me sweetheart ♡
-Prev. 🥀🦋 / Now 🎋🪭
I really like that song, might become my newest obsession... 🖤🖤🖤🖤
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Yandere Teacher Vil Schoenheit x Obsessed Student Reader 
Vil definitely has that aura of an unbiased but caring mentor much like Crewel. He’s confident and quaint, praising you in any capacity thrills most who receive it. Granted it’s sprinkled with underlying insults and a general lack of faith. But for someone like you, who can barely get your own father to even look at you it means so much more:
So of course you’ll obsess over him 
Putting him on a pedestal you’re willing to do anything for 
Study and pass his class
Tell on all the naughty potatoes in class
Even framing the professor he’s wanted gone since the beginning
“Well done.”
“R-really?”
“Yes, I’m quite pleased you’ve proven to be more helpful than the other useless potatoes.”
“T-thank you M-Mister Vil!”
He doesn’t stop you or even act like he doesn’t reciprocate
A few light touches
A kiss or two
A nibble of the ear
Your friends warn you  when they realize the love of your life is the degrading teacher of etiquette 
“This isn’t a good idea…(Y/n) he’s like much older than you.”
“So? That just means he has experience!”
“He’s thinking about retirement!”
“Early retirement!”
“Nooo!”
Nothing really stops you from your newfound love 
That is until he crashes the illusion himself 
“Oh~Roi du Poison, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the misguided doe?”
“Please, they’re just a tool I’m sharpening. A potato I’ve decided is worth polishing…for the time being.”
It destroys you
What meaning of life is there if he doesn’t even care about yours
You stop showing up to school
You won’t leave your room
“Where is (L/n)?”
“Pft wouldn’t you like to know!”
“We’re not telling you. You don’t deserve to even speak to them.”
“Fine if that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll give your regards to them.”
“What?!” “Wait!” 
Unbeknownst to you Vil is very much in love with you 
But what did you expect?!
That he’d admit to actually being just as obsessed if not more so than you
He figured the best way to keep you close enough was by taking advantage of your emotional flaw
And while he wasn’t wrong, 
he realized the way it’s been going is all too risky
Nosy obstacles friends of yours, suspicious coworkers, gossiping potatoes
It’s just too risky so he’ll promptly resign putting time and energy into his former hobby
Taking the world by storm he’ll disappear
Giving you the so-called space you want so badly
But he’ll be watching
Watching as you mend yourself together only to fall apart again with every new tragedy
Your grades suspiciously slip
Your house is going to be foreclosed
Your father disappears one evening becoming a missing person’s case
And finally, your dear poor friends suddenly die
Catching some sickness after investigating something they refused to tell you about in  the forest
It’s there, where you’ve graduated and are at your lowest once again that he makes his move
“It’s been a while, (L/n).”
He’ll skew the events that day claiming the doe was someone else or that it was all a cover
And like that, he’ll slither back into your heart with his leash fully keeping you within his grasp
“For all that trouble, (Y/n) you’re irrevocably mine.”
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