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#I want to hear other people's thoughts and why you would think she isn't a mary sue
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TMAGP 18 Thoughts: Dead Letters
Another really great episode. Feels like the show has hit its stride now and it just keeps getting better and better IMO. I can't say I entirely get the episode's title though. This one feels fairly strained to me and I feel like it must be because I'm missing something obvious.
Spoilers for episode 18, and some lightly implied spoilers for TMA, below the cut.
Teddy and Alice being Teddy and Alice isn't something I have a huge amount to say. I'm never 100% sure how you're meant to read these two. Teddy having his own little story in the background is interesting though because the framing of this implies he's very important to the narrative. His leaving is the instigation for two of our main characters to be able to join the OIAR, his leaving party is the opening scene of the show, and every time he's been in it since something about him has progressed. It could just be a grounding element so that not every character is wrapped up in it but it seems fairly obvious that his story is going somewhere.
Fun Fact: I've mentioned it before but as it was name dropped, Robert Smirke was an architect for the Royal Mint.
Lena continuing to be very Lena about everything really does warm my heart. She could just be entirely disinterested, distancing herself from the employees for their safety, or other reasons beside. Either way "Oh, is that its name?" is wonderful and she should never change.
This statement was really great. Augustus being back is a massive highlight. Tim Fearon has killed both of his episodes and I want more of him than we're getting. A haunted house narrated by him is really a treat to listen to. The literal contents of the experience we hear narrated back to us isn't something I have too much to say on. It's got some strong Hilltop Road vibes but is at Church Street. Church Street itself doesn't have anything too important to mention about it. Milton Court, however, is interesting. Violet was seemingly the victim of the same thing that killed Drowning Victim a few episodes back, likely [Error]. But what's interesting about the Milton Court Open Space is that it's about 20 miles from where Drowning Victim was. These cases happened 3 days apart which is ample time to cover that distance but it's interesting because it's largely along the path you'd drive if you were coming from Manchester, where the Institute's ruins were, back to London and taking the M40. You'd drive passed Ickenham. I would not be surprised if we see a similar case from early further north along that route. Another thing of note here is the extreme malnutrition. I think a lot of people are going to link this back to Darrien from the last episode but I think it's more obviously a physical symptom of reliving said experience. Violet wandered though a house with no exit until she starved, like how Drowning Victim, well, drowned. No notes otherwise, great incident. Well, "Some figure reaching asking questions in an alley?" is curious phrasing but I won't get to into that.
Alice and Sam's chat directly addressing the contents of the case is something I love to see. Alice is trying her best to bury all that, bless her, but Sam is for sure never letting this drop. It's just great to see this stuff not washing over them now and it's all becoming more and more relevant. Although it does bring into question why Augustus read this one out. Chester seems to read things that nudge people to act a certain way but this one seemed almost cruel. Like Augustus was trying to get under Alice's skin. In any case its hard to find a thread between this and Taking Notes, at least as far as "motivation" goes.
Oh Gwen. Poor, poor Gwen. Finally opens up about her truly fucking awful experiences and Sam laughs in her face about it. To be fair to Sam leading with Mr. Bonzo is a perfect wind up and I would've laughed too. We all would've laughed if our co-worker said that. To be fair to Gwen, Mr. Bonzo has traumatised the shit out of her and who else is there to really lead with? And as always Anusia killed it here. What a glorious F-bomb too.
Backing up just a little bit, there is this quote during that interaction:
GWEN In the cases, you know how there are often things or places or people or whatever who… aren’t right? Who seem to be causing all the awful things to happen.
Which is fairly interesting if you've been reading theories. Specially about what CAT# means. The most common theory by far is "Person/Place/Object". Meaning that CAT1 indicates a supernatural person in the incident, CAT2 a place, etc. Now, I have written an essay all about this subject entitled "Putting the CAT# Back in the Bag: The Flaws With Person/Place/Object". So, y'know, I don't buy it. Gwen mentioning it now feels like a red herring too given how early it is. Obviously that feeling is rooted in my current belief about said theory. If I don't think it holds water I won't think this is a clue about that. But it's not just that. I think this is too early from a narrative stand point, CAT# standing for those things pointless from a narrative standpoint, and if Gwen has settled on those three things it's not much of a stretch to link it back the the case numbers and part of the point of them is they're inscrutable to everyone there.
Because all of the above isn't enough for this already stellar episode we meet two new characters. Georgie and Jack. Both at long last as they've both come up before. It's hard to talk about this without getting into TMA stuff. I'll try to be light on TMA spoilers but Celia and Georgie have history. Now, unlike with Celia, this very much seems like TMP's version of Georgie. She's a conspiracy theorist instead of a ghost hunt, she's paranoid instead of fearless, and she seems to know as little about Celia as you'd expect. The conspiracy angle is also really clever. TMA was very much just about supernatural encounters but TMP has the cast working for the government. So Georgie has stayed fairly consistent in this regard it's just the shows themes that changed. Celia finding Georgie makes a lot of sense to me though. Their history makes her a good touchstone here and as she's still podcasting about strange things it's a good cover as any. However whatever is happening with Celia is clearly getting worse and she's not lying about it well.
GEORGIE Celia, I’m saying you don’t need to lie to me. CELIA I’m not! [zzzzzt]
Sure you're not, Celia. Sure you're not.
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Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet
DPHW Theory: 2374 not much to explain on this one I don't think. Spooky house that you can't escape from gets you spooky house you can't escape from numbers.
CAT# Theory: CAT1 is semi-interesting for the theory I think it definitely isn't (see here). Because for that theory to remain consistent corpses end up as objects. Which you'd think would put this in CAT3 if assessors were applying those themselves, and if they aren't all headers of this type being people seems very farfetched when we've seem objects that compel already.
R# Theory: C seems reasonably to me. Having a spooky memory and talking about it seems like the sort of thing no one would care about.
Header talk: Memory (Derelict) -/- Compulsion. Two interesting things here. Firstly, the section being Memory implies that this experience actually happened. Either to Violet or someone else. It could be a ham-fisted section choice if there isn't anything for hallucinatory experiences of this nature but I'd assume there must be. This system is so specific and as that would be a large oversight it seems unlikely that it isn't there. But it's hard to say how much any given assessor knows about what they're picking. Misfiles are always possible. The subsection is the other interesting thing. Derelict is such a specific subsection here that Memory must have 100s of them.
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I Had Miraculous Ladybug Thoughts, Specifically the Chloe Lila Alliance Situation, and I'm Making It Your Problem! I am So Sorry!
Just. Read the title of this post. I am the most biased person you could have on this topic. You've been warned.
Okay, so. Chloe. If you are in the ML fandom, first off, my condolences, we shall suffer together. Second off, you know that Chloe is incredibly divisive. On the one hand, she's an absolute a**hole to everyone around her at any point in the series that is not season 2 and parts of season 3. On the other hand, it is clear that she has no adults teaching her how to not be an a**hole or regulating her behavior because the only people who have the necessary authority should not have ever been parents.
And then you have that whole thing in season 2 where they started to explain her awfulness and gave her the bee miraculous and she started getting better and developing a support structure, and then she stopped being allowed to have the bee miraculous and dove headfirst off the deep end. This frustrates pretty much the entire fandom. On the Chloe hate side, you wonder why they were wasting time with this. On the Chloe love side, you just got baited, and you're annoyed as heck, and you also are wondering why they wasted your time with this.
But fine, okay, it's dumb, but whatever, the fanfiction can work with this. What the fanfiction has a MUCH harder time working with is Chloe and Lila forming an unholy alliance over their mutual hatred of Marinette and Ladybug. Because the problem here is, it's redundant, it doesn't make sense, and makes Lila even more of a Mary Sue.
Tangent warning: YEAH I SAID IT! I think Lila is a Mary Sue. You don't have to think that. My definition of a Mary Sue is "a character that warps the fabric of the story around them without it making any sense because the author likes/hates/pities/has other strong emotion about this character/ too much to care about a coherent narrative." Not everybody defines a Mary Sue this way, but by this definition, Lila is a Mary Sue. Everyone immediately loses their brain cells around her despite being compassionate and sometimes intelligent individuals who will kill for Marinette in most other scenarios. Nonsensical story warping just because the author said so. Tangent aside:
What this alliance does is it gives you two manipulative lying b*tches who willingly get akumatized to further their petty schemes and are out to destroy Marinette and Ladybug and are weirdly possessive of but don't actually seem to care for Adrien. There's really no point in having two. They occupy the same narrative niche and it is awkward and stupid and I DO NOT LIKE IT. Neither does most of the fandom it seems, because this alliance rarely appears in fanfiction.
There are a couple default solutions in fanfiction:
1. Redeem Chloe. I like this solution. I like Chloe, I think she's entertaining, and I think her interactions with other characters as a good guy are especially entertaining, I think she brings a lot of valuable skills and perspective to the cast as a good guy, I think she has a lot of reasons for being an a**hole that should be properly addressed, and I think the reasons her redemptipn arc got aborted were stupid. Most fanfiction goes the route of having redeemed Chloe viscerally hate Lila too, because Chloe goes after enemies with passion and her whole heart. This is a clean solution, but not great if you don't like Chloe all that much or are trying to make it canon compliant (best of luck to you, canon is all over the place).
2. Only focus on one as a villain and yeet the other out of the story. If Chloe is the villain, set the story during the time that Lila was off being Cerise or wandering around Paris or whatever, or before she showed up. If Lila is the villain, give Chloe an unrelated reason to decide she's not dealing with that today, thank you very much. Usually used in salt fics to dunk on whichever character grinds your gears more without unwanted interruptions. I like salt fics, and this is also a good clean solution. Having both of them is redundant, so just remove one. For Lila, it makes sense because she's a Mary Sue and writing her is annoying, so pretending she never existed is a great fix to that. For Chloe, it makes sense because "lying manipulative ladybug hating b*tch" only really starts being her archetype after the writers screwed up her character with a million inconsistincies. Before that, she was more of a "comically loud, bossy, really obssessive fangirl b*tch," so Lila just works better for certain plots. Downside is that you can't focus on Chloe-Lila interactions, and you sometimes have to do a bit of finagling to figure out how to remove them from a situation they would ordinarily be VERY invested in.
3. Make them hate each other. This is one of my favorite solutions because I have a weakness for villain rivalries that are equal parts comedic and dramatic, but bias aside, this absolutely works. They both want Adrien's sole, undivided attention, and, prior to aforementioned screwing over of Chloe's character, Chloe is the world's biggest Ladybug stan, and Lila is her number 1 hater. They also both have a weird power over the adults in the story that two 14 year old girls really shouldn't have. All these factors make it very easy to guess they would clash. Watch as they try to destroy each other! This plays into the "they both suck, but it's different flavors of suck," and makes those flavors mix BADLY together. The one downside is that it is hard to not make this the central focus of the story, because both of them are so over the top that they're absolutely going to drown out most other going ons, and this is technically supposed to be about Marinette and Adrien. It also erases some of the storylines you can get from an actually thought out alliance.
4. Redeem Lila. I have only seen this in one place, but it is a prominent place and that's more places than my suggestion on this whole ordeal. The prominent place being the Scarlet Lady AU by the very talented and lovely ZoeOneesame. Her take on it was basically:
"Chloe in this AU has the ladybug miraculous, and Chloe sucks at her job, so Lila's ladybug hatred is justified. Marinette is in love with Chat and isn't involved in the ladybug drama, so Lila has no reason to hate her. Adrien is both much smarter and much more active in this AU, so he wouldn't deal with Lila in the same hands-off way. Everybody else is also smarter in this AU and would probably know Lila was lying and also not care because they are forgiving and compassionate. So Lila's lies would most likely get called out, she would have the freedom and desire to figure out who she is beneath the lies, and she would have a justified hatred of Scarlet Lady matched by other characters in the AU, and would probably band together with them."
And thus, no filter, vindictive good guy Lila was born! Again, I have only seen this in Scarlet Lady, but it is amazing over there, so I had to talk about it. Redeeming Lila is an unconventional choice for sure, but I think if you arrange for circumstances where Lila would rather ally with the heroes than the villains, then you can get a lot of mileage out of her people-reading/manipulation skills helping out the heroes while possibly scaring the crap out of them at the same time. This has basically all the same downsides as the Chloe redemption though. It's not fun to do if you're here for Lila salt, and it's ABSOLUTELY not canon compliant.
Now. You may have noticed that nobody who writes fanfiction for this show does the canon Chloe-Lila alliance. This is for a myriad of aforementioned reasons: it's redundant, it continues the confusion of Chloe's character arc, and Lila is a Mary Sue, so anything that involves her tends to be frustrating. But, I think there is a way to make it work, so I'm writing about it.
First of all, don't do what canon did where 6 just have Lila teach Chloe how to lie. Take full advantage of the fact that they are two very different types of a**hole. They can ally for the same reasons: they both are super possesive of Adrien and are raging about him getting together with Marinette. And while I don't like the arc of Marinette being a trash and controlling guardian who shows inordinate favoritism to Alya and Zoe and literally nobody else because she's gay for them, you can still do that and have them both hate Ladybug too. I don't like that plot beat, mostly because it's never really addressed that Marinette is in fact a bad guardian outside of some light sulking from Chat, but it can work. She's a 14 year old girl in way over her head with no adults left to help (except the kwamis, but they don't really count because they are very unhelpful). It makes sense that she wouldn't do a good job at first. But whatever their reasons for teaming up, lean into the fact that Lila is a two-faced secretively awful person while Chloe is an in-your-face publicly awful person. From there, it depends on the tone you're going for.
Chloe is a great villain for humor because she's so loud and dramatic. She can get away with saying and doing really insane and rude stuff on the grounds that she's insane and rude (and also rich and powerful). People don't have any expectations for Chloe to be nice or rational, so she can do stuff like try and write a Queen Banana character into the class film and be met with annoyance and frustration rather than outrage and shock. So if you're going a lighthearted route, let Chloe be the one who does all the public legwork for their schemes, and let her be absolutely over the top about it.
On the other hand, Chloe can also be threatening in a far more tangible way than Lila. Lila can make people think you're a bit of a jerk, but it takes a lot of work for her to come close to getting Marinette expelled, even with all her Mary Sueness to help. Chloe can just look at the principal and say "My dad will fire you and remove all school funding if you don't expel her." Chloe won't make people dislike Marinette because nobody likes her, but she can physically hurt Marinette in ways that Lila can't. So if you're going for drama, you can lean into that. Chloe is in a completely different social class than everyone else and has actual power.
Either way, let Chloe be a complete drama queen who is publicly out to get Marinette, because there isn't anything anyone can do about it.
Meanwhile, let Lila work in the background. Lila has never been a comedic villain, only getting introduced after the show had taken a turn for the more dramatic, so don't bother. Leave that to Chloe's antics. Let Lila be the actual threat who is driving their plans. A lot of the reason Chloe was manageable while Lila never was is because Chloe's rage tends to be directionless and impulsive. She has a short temper that can easily be triggered, but also easily soothed, and she doesn't have any thought out plans or long form schemes. She just does whatever she thinks will make her happy in the moment. Have Lila be the one who convinces her to think in the long-term, and who comes up with an overarching plot to get rid of Marinette, adding a sense of real tension to the situation. Sure, before Chloe could have you expelled on a whim, but she also would have stopped bothering the second Adrien paid attention to her. Lila will help Chloe drop that boundary.
Lila also has the advantage of people actually liking her and being willing to do things for her without threatening or bribing them. Lila can do things like make it so Marinette doesn't have any of her friends around to help in an emergency. She can make it so people believe Chloe might actually be justified in her crusade against Marinette this time. She can plant seeds of doubt and distrust and she can socially isolate Marinette in ways Chloe can't. Make people love and believe in her instead, slowly destroy Marinette's support system, and so on. It not only is really dramatic and upsetting, it basically leaves Mari with just Adrien and Chat to rely on, which is FANTASTIC ship fuel if that's your jam. This can also let you have some other prominent characters come to the fore. Have some Kagami focus. Have some Luka focus. Bring in Socqueline and Felix and see how that changes things.
Point is, between these two, you could have a genuine, non-redundant threat that you can get emotional mileage out of. Lila is on one side turning all of Mari's friends against her and scheming to destroy her in the long term. Chloe is on the other side threatening Marinette's lifestyle---her bakery, her school, her fashion career, her public image, her existence in Paris---anything that can be damaged by the Mayor and the Style Queen is under attack. And then you have Hawkmoth on the other end, throwing akumas in her face and forcing her to make impossible choices. I would imagine Lila also gets akumatized on purpose whenever she needs a little extra help, while Chloe just gets egged on and pushed off the deep end by Lila whenever Lila thinks it'd be advantageous. So that trifecta is super genuinely threatening. But you can also have Chloe being a really stupid drama queen whose fits of rage can still be silly and poorly thought out, even with Lila helping her. And you can have some really heartwarming stuff as the people left in Marinette's support system band together and become even closer to get rid of these two once and for all. I just think this plot beat has a lot of untapped potential if the writers didn't make then fulfill the same narrative role, and I haven't really seen it explored yet.
Feel free to use this idea in fanfic, tell me that it sucks and would be bad, or ignore me, I mostly just needed to write this down!
If the mood strikes me or multiple people express interest (yeah right), I will make a (probably much shorter) post explaining how you can redeem both of them effectively and also why I think that would be bad in most circumstances.
Congratulations if you read this whole rant, now please go to sleep. Please. So much please.
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keets-writing-corner · 4 months
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Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??
As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue
the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD
He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.
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like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...
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The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"
and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it
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does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING
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like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow
For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat
Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation
Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with
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Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)
But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time
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Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell
Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch
idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room
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5sospenguinqueen · 2 months
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Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.
Apologies but this is a female reader.
Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.
There is no timeline for this. Make it up.
Main Masterlist.
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Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.
"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."
"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.
Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"
She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.
Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.
"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"
"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.
"Who?!"
"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.
"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."
She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"
"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."
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The interview went viral.
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YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)
→ LandoNorris no.
User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face
User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?
User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.
→ Your User Name 👀👀
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User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.
User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.
User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.
OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.
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YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.
YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.
PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...
→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.
User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.
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User 8 coming for his teammate
User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull
User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms
YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back
→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium
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Max33Verstappen not my babies?!
→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.
→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself
→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next
→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*
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User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.
User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.
User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?
User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster
→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next
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User we found the snitch
User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?
LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond
Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.
redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.
→ YourUserName crap.
User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?
→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.
→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed
→ lilymhe can confirm.
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astonmartinii · 10 months
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ultimate wing man | daniel ricciardo social media au
pairing: daniel ricciardo x horner!reader y/n is notoriously single, and her dad decides to take it into his own hands.
masterlist
if you want to leave a tip x
yourusername
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liked by christianhorner, danielricciardo and 603,561 others
yourusername: galentines was a must this year
view all comments
user1: this girl cute and rich how come no man has come in for her?
yourusername: i ask myself that everyday tbf i am a catch 🎣
user2: i need to be her friend asap
christianhorner: looking lovely darling as usual
yourusername: thank you papa
yourbff1: thank you for the champagne father horner
yourbff2: thank you for driving to london to pick us up at 2am father horner
yourbff3: sorry for throwing up in the porsche father horner
christianhorner: no worries girls, all will be forgiven if you convince y/n to go on the date i set up for her
yourusername: will you stopppppppp i just got out of a relationship ur not gonna be grandpa for a good fucking while
christianhorner: you can be the one to tell your mum that
yourusername: please your ego can't take being called grandpa
user4: so what i'm hearing is i need to be friends with y/n to get my nights out paid for by christian horner
user5: i know yall hate christian but his relationships with his kids kinda make me like him
user6: no i agree with you, it's super cute and you can't handle that he's just good at his job
maxverstappen1: oh i see, @danielricciardo why didn't we get our tabs covered?
danielricciardo: clearly aren't loved as much here :(
yourusername: i mean i'm his literal flesh and blood
maxverstappen1: but we make him money ???
yourusername: and i spend it?
danielricciardo: so we're funding the galentines benders?
yourusername: eh probably, i do have a job but i'd rather spend other people's money lol
user7: she's so real
user8: she is my professor of girl maths
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christianhorner
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 408,943 others
tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo
christianhorner: had to get the grill out for this bank holiday weekend with the family
view all comments
user10: christian referring to max and dan as family sergio i am so sorry
user11: the state of the seasoning makes me think that sergio dodged a bullet
yourusername: thank you papa but disappointed not to see you wearing the apron i got you for christmas
christianhorner: i'm sorry y/n but i'm not going to wear a "this chef wants to fuck toto wolff" apron at a family event
yourusername: shame, you wear daniel's merch all the time
danielricciardo: awwww christian i'm blushing
user12: i'm sorry christian horner owns a "this chef wants to fuck toto wolff" apron and we haven't seen it
user13: y/n horner you are a national treasure for real
maxverstappen1: woah who are those sexy guys in the last picture?
yourusername: the way i can't escape yall even at family events
maxverstappen1: not our fault ur dad loves us
danielricciardo: though there are definite perks
christianhorner: my cooking skills?
danielricciardo: sure...
user14: christian's obsession with daniel needs to be studied
yourusername: i think it's just a horner thing tbf
user15: HUH?
user16: i mean who isn't obsessed with daniel
liked by yourusername
user17: to be honest i would love for y/n and daniel to be a thing i am TIRED of constantly reading about how her latest bf has cheated on her
user18: for real that girl is in the trenches all the time she needs a good guy
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, alexalbon and 650,450 others
yourusername: not really the dress for a pasta dinner but look at the material
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user22: miss ma'am i thought we were a no on the dating thing for a while
yourusername: i'm dumb i know but i have a good feeling about this one !!
user23: i think i've seen this film before
yourusername: have some faith my dad picked him so it's not my terrible taste
maxverstappen1: wait so you actually went on the date your dad set up for you?
yourusername: uh yeah when you have taste this bad you need intervention
maxverstappen1: you said it not me
yourusername: you said nothing every time i brought them to the garage
maxverstappen1: not to your face lol i was trying to be nice in front of your dad
yourusername: hmmmmmm well part of me thinks you guys won't have any complaints about this one
user23: i hate that i am so invested in this
alexalbon: so the date happened and lily and i still haven't gotten the debrief yet? i see how it is.
yourusername: bro i just got home and sat down give me some time
alexalbon: let me put the kettle on and then call us
yourusername: i can't promise i can tell you who it was just yet
lilymunhe: you're such a tease !!!
yourusername: gentleman don't kiss and tell
user24: walk with me: christian set this date up, christian loves daniel, daniel and the guy in the picture both have tattoos, daniel usually comments on all of y/n's posts but is silent on this one
user25: get a life (i believe you 100%).
danielricciardo
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liked by christianhorner, yourusername and 1,209,667 others
tagged: yourusername
danielricciardo: enchante
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user26: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
user27: daniel really said fuck y/n's soft launch
maxverstappen1: YES the garage owe me $50
yourusername: you bet on who my date was?
maxverstappen1: well i bet even though it was the most obvious thing in the world who your dad would choose
yourusername: my dad has good taste?
user28: it's annoying me how cute this is
user29: i need it to be me next time
yourbff1: father horner can you matchmake for me next please, anyone on the grid will work
christianhorner: my days of being cupid are over unfortunately, pulling this off was way too stressful
user30: you telling me horner gets more stressed over setting his daughter up rather than whole ass races
yourusername: you're lucky you're sexy i had the whole soft launch planned out
danielricciardo: my sexiness has gotten me out of a lot in life
yourusername: it won't get you out of this family dinner though
danielricciardo: oh please your dad is only having dinner so he can see me
yourusername: unfortunately true, at least i love you as well now
danielricciardo: you always did, don't lie
yourusername: yeah but i don't want to inflate your ego any more
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maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 803,459 others
tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo
maxverstappen1: someone save me from the constant torture of third wheeling
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user32: max is such a mood, i too become suicidal around any happy couple
yourusername: i don't remember you complaining when we literally made you dinner and hung out with you all night because you were "bored and lonely and wanted to annoy us"
maxverstappen1: *annoy my favourites
danielricciardo: we're well aware we're your favourites, we're the only ones who will tolerate you
maxverstappen1: well when you put it like that it makes me sad
yourusername: nooooo maxy we love you
user33: max using a meme of himself is peak max verstappen behaviour i can't lie
landonorris: wait so where was my invitation?
yourusername: this wasn't an invite only event it was me and daniel trying to have an evening in
maxverstappen1: but i thought you liked that i bought jimmy and sassy :(
yourusername: I LOVE THEM PLEASE HELP ME CONVINCE DANIEL TO GET A CAT
danielricciardo: i love you so much but we can barely feed ourselves and max so maybe we shouldn't be in charge of another living creature
yourusername: can we at least cat sit :(
danielricciardo: of course honey
user34: oh to be drinking wine on the couch with my boy friend daniel ricciardo
yourusername
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liked by christianhorner, charles_leclerc and 780,563 others
tagged: danielricciardo
yourusername: thank you dad, you picked a good one x
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user35: i'm so jealous rn don't hit me up
danielricciardo: i think you picked THE ONE
yourusername: he's never going to shut up about this but i'll deal with it to be with you
danielricciardo: i'm blushing y/n
yourusername: i can make you do a lot more than blush
maxverstappen1: CHILDREN PRESENT
user36: this shit is like a straight up fairytale, christian should actually go into professional matchmaking
user37: girl yeah this match was made in heaven but we all know it's because christian LOVES daniel as well
user38: he's been gagging for daniel to be his son in law since like 2014
landonorris: thank god this happened, this man was PINING for so fucking long
danielricciardo: okay like no need to blast me
yourusername: omg you pined too, suddenly i'm not as much of a loser as i once thought
danielricciardo: you were never a loser babe
landonorris: maybe you were if you had a crush on him in 2014
danielricciardo: LANDO I WAS A CATCH IN 2014
yourusername: you've always been a catch babe don't worry
christianhorner: i know what i'm doing, i'm glad you're finally happy
yourusername: thank you dad xx
danielricciardo: thank you soon to be dad xx
user39: WHAT
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danielricciardo
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liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1 and 1,304,766 others
tagged: yourusername
danielricciardo: i drove in your dad's wedding, but it'll be ours next
view all comments
user39: i think i heard christian's screams of joy all the way from the other side of the world
christianhorner: so happy for you two
danielricciardo: thank you so much for having faith in me
christianhorner: i know you'll treat her well and i know she'll treat you well, i'm excited to have you in the family
yourusername: awwww dad you're such a sap
maxverstappen1: do i need to marry into the family to still be invited to horner events?
christianhorner: no you're still invited max
yourusername: dad's golden boys will always have invites so you're safe max - bring seb to the next one too
user40: not all of the golden boys having championships other than daniel
danielricciardo: still ended up with the best prize in the end
yourusername: DANNY oh wow....
danielricciardo: not wrong though, i have no regrets because it all led to you
landonorris: @christianhorner i am painfully single please help
christianhorner: i'm not a miracle worker
yourusername: horners take no prisoners
note: pls enjoy this lil one, i did this as a palate cleanser before i get to p3 of into the arms of another and all the dragging that's about to come
4K notes · View notes
agirlandherkinks · 5 months
Text
Imagine being turned into a fucktoy at the same time as someone else.
Say, you and a friend go to a party, wearing matching pink bows the host gave you beforehand.
After a while, you both start to feel a bit funny. Your attention gets flightier and thinking starts to become difficult. You talk to the host together to apologize for having to leave, but he insists you don't go and arranges a room for your stay. You want to argue, but realize he's... so, so sexy. Of course you want to do what he says. A giggle escapes your throat, while your friend twirls her hair and grins adoringly at him.
You walk into the room together, hand in hand. Behind you, you hear rough laughter and a jeer "See you sluts soon!"
The door clicks shut.
Your friend snaps out of her haze first as the situation registers to her. She tries the door handle, whimpering in fear as it refuses to budge. Then she shakes out, dragging you away from thoughts of Him. You explore the confines of your room, panic mounting as neither of you find a way out. One door, locked. A small window, high up. A single, giant bed, blankets and pillows in a hot pink. Master likes you in that colour. You stumble in surprise, the last observation filling your head with bubbles. How could you think of escape, when your place is here. With Master. Your crotch feels warm.
A moan escapes your mouth at the same time as your friend's, who's fallen on all fours.
"W-what's happening?" you stammer, trying to clear your head.
"Dooooon't knoooow!" she cries back, rubbing herself with one hand. "So hotttt..."
Watching your friend touch herself through her jeans fills you with your own heat, and you automatically follow suit as visions blast through your mind. Fucking yourself, fucking each other, fucking other people, on the bed on the floor on the couch, even on the beach when you are allowed outside. But always, always, for Master. You love him. He controls you. You belong to- No!
You gasp, forcing your hand to the floor. This isn't right! Trying to ignore the thoughts, the commands in your mind, you crawl over to the moaning form of your friend. Her jeans are off, and her panties soaked in cum as a hand dips in and out, over and over. You call her name, shake her, even slap her (although all that produces is a groan of pleasure), to no avail. Then she turns to you, and whispers, "Toy~"
"Nonononono," you whisper, both to what she said, and the echoes it produced in your own mind. "We need to get out together!"
"Toy is nice. Toy is warm. Toy is happyyy..." Her eyes were an unnatural pink, focused on nothing. Her mouth formed a sleepy smile. "Nice."
"Nice..." you repeat, assaulted by visions and promises of pleasure and fucking and being a good Toy. Your hand slips into your jeans, and tears come to your eyes.
"Why resist? Toy is good. Toy is right. No think. Happy." She undresses, then begins taking your own clothes off.
"No... Don't... want... happy?" Your head spins. Why would Toy not want to be Toy? Need to escape. Together. But Master would be sad. Don't want Master to be sad. Think! Toy no think. Toy wrong! Right. Happy. So scared... Warm. Good. Nice. Happy. Think so hard...
You let out a ragged scream in your throat. So confused...
"...Who am I?" you whimper, feeling the cool air on your naked body as your friend settles in front of you, vacant gaze and dumb smile still in place.
"Not who, silly" she calmly explains. "What. Toy not person. Toy Toy. I Toy. You Toy."
Oh. That makes sense. (no.....)
"Toy is thing. For Master. Toy for squeezing. And fucking~ Pussy~ Cock-" She cuts off with a moan and touches herself. You feel compelled to copy. For a while you both masturbate, happily. Your jaw begins to loosen and tension drain from your body.
Toy is sexy. Toy is sexy. Master like us. (please.....)
"Toy need help?" She manages to focus on you and stop touching herself, face set in concern. "Think too much?" You nod, desperately.
Brain loud. Part bad. Not like Toy. (can't keep-)
Toy smiles reassuringly. "Toy help Toy. Be Toy together. Nice for Master. Together."
With tender care she climbs onto your lap, gripping your shoulder with one hand as the other drifts downwards. Gently, delicately, she touches her lips to yours, their soft plumpness and strawberry flavor filling your senses. She presses against you, your nipples brushing as your chests squish together. At the same time, her hand begins expertly manipulating your genitals, sending waves of pleasure through your fuzzy, stupid mind. You moan, a cry of despair as the last remnants of you leak out in the form of precum and drool. Then your pitch and tone change, becoming a wail of pleasure as the dumb Toy that you always were surrenders to your needy, lusty body. You start fucking Toy too, and your moans and whimpers mix as you collapse on top of each other.
Nice. Warm. Happy. Toy.
The door slams open and you both wince at the light. Then go limp, as a familiar smell reaches your noses. Master. He feeds you and pampers you and loves you and fucks you and fucks you and fucks you~
Love Master. Controls Toy. Belong to Him. His-
"Toys." A question, and command. Instantly you get to your knees, staring at Him in open worship, both of you wearing nothing but a pink bow in your hair.
You see Him turn and give a thumbs up, to the sound of whoops, jeers, and whistles. They want Toy, you realize, and it makes you very proud to know how sexy you are. You must be doing a very good job for Master. Drool drips from your mouth as you smile absently.
He approaches the other Toy, and you feel sad you weren't noticed first. She grins happily as His hand cups her cheek, then, at a curt gesture, rises to her feet. "You, Toy, are for anyone to fuck. Do you know that?" A nod. "Good. Now, I've got a lot of friends out there that your moans made very hard. They need some release. Are you going to help them out?" A whimper and an enthusiastic nod. "Good Toy. Go." Toy rushes out the door to a cheering crowd, quickly muted by the door closing. From Master. You gaze at Him in longing, wanting to serve. Wanting to make Him feel good. Wanting His cock.
"On the bed." You rush to obey.
"Spread your legs." A soft moan escapes your lips.
"Only one rule today, Toy. You cum when, and only when, I say." And He settles inside you with a grunt of satisfaction. Your mind is blank, with pleasure and an overwhelming need to serve. You are a Toy. Only a Toy. A-
"Good Toy."
Squirm for Master.
Cum for Master.
Live for Master.
Good Toy.
Good Toy.
Good Toy.
Forever.
1K notes · View notes
supernovafics · 21 days
Text
𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 2.3k words
summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you
warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst
author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends. 
Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”
You turned your head to look at her. “What?”
“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.” 
Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.
“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.  
You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.” 
You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you. 
“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.
Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did. 
It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on. 
New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore. 
You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely. 
“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.  
She looked up at you. “Want some help?” 
“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.” 
You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.
You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm. 
The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.
You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath. 
It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again. 
It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had. 
“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”
You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”
“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”
You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.
“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”
It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August. 
But, shit, you were already in way too deep. 
You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”
“So… just friends again?”
You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.” 
Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore. 
There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side. 
You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway. 
A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.  
You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.  
You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 
“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?” 
“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.” 
“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment. 
“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”
You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.” 
“You sure you’re okay?”
For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.
“I can’t do this.” 
He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”
“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”
“But, we decided—”
“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”
Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders. 
“It’s not easy for me either.” 
You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.” 
“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.” 
“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”
You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago. 
“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”
You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”
“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”
Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night. 
But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire. 
It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again. 
Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.
“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”
Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”
And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time. 
“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.” 
Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
560 notes · View notes
cosmiiwrites · 3 months
Text
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ enemies to lovers
.ೃ࿐ adam x fem!reader .ೃ࿐
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ summary: in which you and adam find out you don't hate each other as much as you think you do cw: NSFW, fem!reader, p in v, oral (fem recieving), creampie, adam (he's his own warning), hair pulling, semi-public sex, cussing a/n: FINALLY DONE !! first smut fic though, so apologies if some things dont make sense :(
you hated adam. you hated his cocky attitude and his fuckboy persona. and most of all, you hated how everyone stayed quiet about it. him being the first man didn't mean jack shit to you. if he was being an egotistical asshole? you won't hesitate to put him in his place. even if that meant starting an argument in front of the promenade, putting your hatred for one another on display.
adam, on the other hand, loved someone who could match his abrasive attitude. and it meant more that you went out of your way to shout insults at him every chance you got. to be honest? it turned him on. but he would rather die then admit that. during meetings, you two would bicker non-stop, shooting daggers at each other from across the table. so yes, everyone and their mothers knew about you and adam's ongoing feud. what did everyone also know? the unspoken sexual tension between you two. the tension so thick it was tangible. the tension everyone knew about except the two idiots who claimed they hated each other. even lute was getting sick of it. "what a bitch, am i right?" "yes, sir." "she's just salty because i'd never go for a cunt like her," "mhm, sir." "maybe i sho-" "you know what i just remembered? sera saying she had something to discuss with me. ill be leaving now, sir." adam shot her a confused look. it wasnt like lute to walk out on a conversation so abruptly. (spoiler alert, she just didnt want to hear adam talk about you for the millionth time today) "well, uh, shit, okay." upon leaving, adam bumped into a familiar face. "well, well, well, if it isn't-" you slid right past him, ignoring any advance he'd tried making towards you. "what the fuck?" adam's face grew warm from embarrassment. did you just ignore him? he planted himself in front of you, hoping to make a statement. his tall figure hovered over yours. "ignoring me, hm? is that any way to treat the first man?" he teased. you sighed and rubbed your forehead in annoyance before answering, "if by 'first man' you mean 'overly-confident egomaniac' then yes." that's what adam liked about you; you didnt kiss his ass 24/7 like all the other angels. you didnt crave his approval. "i seriously don't understand how people can tolerate being around you," you groaned.
"oh fuck off, the ladies love me," he grinned. "especially in be-" you threw your hand to cover his mouth. "ugh, spare me the details, you gross fuck." your statement only widened his shit-eating grin. "why, jealous?" he teased, dragging on the s. "fuck, no! i feel bad for all the women you've slept with, they've probably faked all their orgasms as to not hurt your fragile ego." you retorted. adam's smirk dropped. he couldn’t BELIEVE you thought he was incapable of pleasuring a woman. luckily for you, his anger quickly turned to interest as an idea popped up in adam's head. he leaned into your ear, voice low and husky, "you wanna bet on that?"
taken aback from his sudden offer , you backed up until your back hit the wall of the alley you two were in. “what,” you breathed, “are you on about?”
“if i can make you cum,” adam started, “you have to admit that one; im the dick-fuckin’-master, and two; i AM capable of pleasuring a woman. deal?” adam's said a ton of dumb shit, but this? you let out a boisterous laugh. “are you serious?” but after a few beats of unearthly silence, thats when you knew he was. “well, shit.” you did want a chance at proving him wrong and taking down his ego. to be fair, no one’s made you cum in a long, long time. and you were always up for a challenge.
you grabbed adam by the collar and dragged him down to your level.
“deal.”
———————————————————————
thats how you found yourself up against a wall, being eaten out by the first man, the first soul in heaven, and your well-known rival.
you didnt want to admit it, but god, this man was good with his tongue. not to mention his hands.
he gripped your thighs tightly, spreading them apart and smirking up at you. your flustered face drove him mad, only fueling his desire for you. its not his fault you looked so fuckin’ cute. maybe he should get you like this more often…
adam shamelessly licked up and down your entrance, earning small involuntary whimpers from you. he dragged his hand down your thigh to rub circles on your clit, making you twitch under his touch. “taste so fuckin’ good,” he growled. wanting more, you tugged at his hair, forcing his tongue to prod at your cunt. “impatient, are we? and to think you hated me.”
it was like he was waiting for this exact moment; for adam ate like a man starved. like he hadn’t eaten in days, and you were the only thing that could nourish him.
suddenly, he sunk his long tongue into your clit, “shit, adam!” he smirked against your cunt. “enjoying y’self, babe?” “f-fuck—haah—you!” was all you can manage, before he sunk his tongue deeper into you, fingers now circling your clit twice as fast. “dont worry, tits, you’ll be doing that in a bit.”
it wasnt long before you had cum all over his tongue and face, panting like a maniac. you had already lost the bet, but you didnt care. nor had any of you two mentioned it. lost in a drunken haze, all you wanted was his cock buried inside of you.
you quickly recovered from your high and grinded against his painfully hard erection. “s-shit, babe, didn’t take you for a desperate whore,” adams words were slurred, his need for you fogging his brain. “s-shut up,” you retorted “looks like you can still talk back,” he grinned. “i’ll fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” “youve yet to do so,” you teased. “you bluffing, dickmaster?” oh, now you’ve got him in a chokehold.
those would be your famous last words, before adam would recklessly pound into you.
adam quickly undid his boxers, revealing his hard cock, precum already spilling from his tip. you thought he was joking when he called himself the ‘dickmaster.’ you silently wondered how that would fit inside of you. “see how fuckin’ worked up you get me, tits?” adam babbled.
he bent you over, your wrists just above your head.
you were about to reply with a snarky comeback when he pushed his cock into you, no warning beforehand.
“i fuckin’ knew it,” he said. “tight as shit. bet no one’s fucked you as good as im about to, huh?” you wanted to respond, to deny his accusations, but the only sounds that left your mouth were desperate moans and whimpers. it was like music to his ears, fueling him to fuck you brainless.
his large size stung, but pain quickly turned to pleasure when he began to move.
he picked up his pace, pounding into you brutally. it was oh, so sinful. but adam would go to hell anyday if that meant he could have your tight little cunt all to himself.
adam took a fistful of your hair, forcing your back to arch. when you didnt protest, adam threw a line of praise at you. “there we go, good fuckin’ girl, just like that…” the position you were in was a bit uncomfortable, but you quickly stopped paying attention to that when adam thrusted into you sharply. “s-so good f’me,” he babbled.
you knew he was almost at his peak when his thrusts grew sloppy. “shit, almost there, fuck!” he groaned. “m-me too, adam, fuck,”
in one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you, spilling his cum. you felt your stomach grow warm, full of adam’s seed.
adam was still inside of you, even after you both had came. there were no sounds other than your pants and his huffs. thank god this was an empty street.
finally, he pulled out of you. you whined at the loss of contact, earning you a cheeky grin.
“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “how was that for pleasuring a woman, hmmm?” adam smirked. “still hate me?”
“always, just a little less now.”
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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Steve always tells people "I love you" before saying bye to them. Maybe it's the years of Upside Down trauma, worrying that these words could be his last. Maybe it's the fact his parents never say it before leaving (if they even bothered to say anything to him at all). Maybe it's because each time his parents were away he thinks that this might be the time they never come back, and he isn't even sure if they love him. Maybe it's due to his years of King Steve, hurting others more than loving.
It doesn't really matter though, the why. What matters is that Steve has made it his mission to always do it before his goodbyes (especially after round three of the Upside Down). Always making sure to even say a quick "Love you! Bye!" as he is rushing out the door.
At first, everyone is a bit put off by it. Especially Nancy who at first thought it was a love confession until Steve turns to Jonathan and says the exact same thing. The kids think he's being gross and mushy, even an exasperated "mommmm" is thrown in his direction every once in and while. Robin is the only one who is receptive to it right away. A soft, "love you too dingus" she says to him, no matter if they are attached to the hip or in a screaming match that day.
Eventually, though, everyone accepts this as Steve's new normal. Gentle smiles, light snorts, and bruising punches (thanks max) are the responses given. But then after round four of the Upside Down, everyone seems to now embrace this part of Steve. Never forgetting to say "I love you too" in return.
Steve's heart comes a little closer to healing each time.
Steve only begins to realize it's a problem though when it comes to Eddie.
Steve finds that Eddie is the only one he has to resist saying it to. See, Steve over the years has become better at providing verbal affection. Note, his "I love you's" had blossomed into "I am proud of you" and "I'm worried about you" and so much more. He has grown out of the years of repressed emotion (well, he was actively learning to at least).
What Steve hasn't gotten better at is touch. Steve yearns for it, craves it in fact, but can't find it in him to reach out. His fear of rejection is too great. And Steve's friends don't really give out touch to those who don't actively seek it.
Eddie though may be the touchiest person he has ever met. It's small stuff at first.
A shoulder brush.
A clap on the back.
A poke in the ribs.
But then it soon turns into bigger stuff.
A boop on the nose.
A tug at his hair.
A goddamn hug from behind.
It's overwhelming, it's intoxicating. Steve can't really tell if it's good or bad for his health. And Steve knows if he asks Eddie to stop he will. Despite his touchy tendencies, the guy understood boundaries. But the problem is that Steve doesn't want him to stop.
The problem is that Eddie's constant physical affection is starting to collide with Steve's need to express verbal affection. The problem is Eddie is starting to fill the rest of the void in his heart. The problem is Steve...
The problem is Steve has to stop himself from expressing his normal "I love you's" because he knows it will mean something different, something more this time. He knows everyone will notice the difference after their years of hearing him say it.
So, Steve never says it to Eddie.
It's no biggie really. Or so Steve thinks until Eddie corners him in the kitchen during one of their game nights.
"Steve, do you...do you have a problem with me?" Eddie asks shyly, staring down at his boots. It was an odd look on him as Eddie was normally larger than life, commanding a room. It hurt Steve to see him like this.
"What? Why would you think that?" Steve asks shocked.
"Not really a no, Harrington." Eddie chuckles darkly, "And don't think I didn't notice but you kinda have a hangup about saying I love you to everyone except me. And ya know, I wouldn't really be offended really if it was cause we haven't known each other very long and ya know, cause I'm a guy. But then, I see you saying it to Argyle. Real easily in fact. And it wouldn't bother me if it was because we weren't close, but Stevie—" Eddie's voice cracks a little, as he slips into his nickname for Steve. Steve knows now, how serious Eddie is being. "—you've gotten to know me better than anyone in this whole stupid state. And that's including Wayne. Hell, you might even be my best friend even though I'm not yours. I'm not delusional I know no one can knock Robin from that spot." Eddie is rambling so hard that he gives Robin a run for her money. Steve thinks for a moment, that the two have been spending too much time together.
Steve stays silent as he walks towards Eddie to stand directly in front of him. Eddie continues without noticing. "Then I worry, it's because maybe. Maybe it's because you found out that I am gay. And that, you had a problem with that. That you have a problem with me." Eddie's voice starts off shaky but then turns into steel as he finishes. He makes sure to keep direct eye contact with Steve, driving his point.
Steve first thinks, wait Eddie's gay? Then Steve processes everything, panics, and loses his filter completely. Throws his worry about losing his best friend (don't tell Robin, but she's his soulmate so she'll forgive him) out the window, and throws his heart on the table instead. "Jesus, no Eds. I—shit. It's not that at all. Like I don't care about that stuff. You know that. I love Robin regardless."
Eddie gives him a look that screams, we both know why it's different. Steve pushes forwards anyway. "And it's not that I don't want to say it to you. It's just, it's different okay. Like with everyone else, I don't have to worry about it being bullshit. And god that sounds bad, but I don't know how else to say it. And I just know if I say it, if I say it you'll just know it's different, and then you'll hate me and it's one thing for the others to not say it back at first, but I think it might kill me if you didn't. And that's not fair to put that pressure on you." God, now Steve could give Robin a run for her money.
"Sweetheart—"
Steve cuts him off, he knows if he doesn't say it now he won't say it all. "God Eddie if you knew how much I cared—if you knew how much I worried every time you leave. If you knew how much I worry about how I don't say it to you when you leave, how I might not ever get to say it, it would terrify you, Eddie. This isn't a normal amount of affection. This is like—what's the word—astronomical amounts of affection. Cause Eddie, it takes everything in me every single time you walk away to not say I. Love. You."
Steve hears it, how he says it. He knows how it's going to sound before it comes out. How it's different. How it's more. Steve closes his eyes in shame.
Eddie's hand cups Steve's cheek. "Baby."
The hush, but the firm tone makes Steve open his eyes. Eddie has gotten so close they are breathing the same air. Steve's heart stutters.
"Baby," Eddie says again, before giving Steve the one affectionate touch he hasn't gotten yet.
A kiss.
A soft, heartstopping kiss. A kiss that has Steve's soul bursting at the seams.
Steve leans his forehead against Eddie's, feeling content for the first time in weeks. Knowing this was Eddie's way of saying it back.
Though, the delicate "I love you too." that Eddie whispers against Steve's lips doesn't hurt either.
Not even a little bit.
sometimes I set out to write a quick little thing…and sometimes that little thing turns into a big thing. enjoy :)
p.s. I apologize if there are any tense changes, I wrote this at 1 am lol
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Toxic!Rafe Cameron x reader
Sinopse: When rafe’s jealousy leads to yn being locked in the Cameron’s wine cellar
Warnings:Toxic Relationships,Psychological Abuse,Confinement/Imprisonment
Intense Jealous, Emotional Manipulation, Control Issues Disturbing Themes
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I could hear the lock click behind me, echoing in the dim, musty air of the Cameron's wine cellar. The chill seeped through my thin dress, making my skin prickle as I realized what had just happened. Rafe had locked me in.
"Rafe!" I banged on the heavy wooden door, my voice rising in panic. "This isn't funny! Let me out!"
Silence.
I pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from the other side. Nothing but the distant hum of the air conditioner. My heart pounded in my chest, the reality of the situation settling in. Rafe had lost it. Again.
"Rafe!" I screamed, my fists pounding harder. "Open the fucking door! This is insane!"
Finally, I heard his footsteps approaching. The door didn't open, but his voice came through, cold and infuriatingly calm.
"Why should I, Y/N?" he asked, the sneer evident in his tone even through the thick wood. "So you can run off to see him again?"
"What are you talking about?, who’s him?" I demanded, my voice cracking with frustration. "I haven't seen anyone! You're making things up in your head!"
“You know, sweetheart… I’m a proactive type of p-p-person, and when we have a problem, we have to resolve it before it gets worse… DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” He shouts
"Rafe... I don't know what's happening. I'm scared. Please let me out..."
"Oh, really?" he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Then explain why you were so cozy with Topper at the party. Whispering, l-laughing. Do you think I'm b-blind?..DO YOU THINK YN??” he banged on the door with force, and I flinched back in fear.
I clenched my fists, trying to keep my anger in check. "Rafe, it wasn't like that. We were just talking. You know how he is, always joking around…plus you know he still loves Sarah” I say
"You expect me to believe that?" he shot back. "I've seen the way that motherfucker looks at you. Like he wants to take you away from me,so don’t worry he don’t even think about my damn sister anymore”
"This is ridiculous," I muttered, feeling tears of frustration prick at my eyes. "Rafe, you can't keep doing this. You can't keep locking me up whenever you get jealous. It's not right."
"I can do whatever I want,"he said “ and y-y-you know why?” his voice hardening. "You're mine, y/n..no one else's. And if I have to lock you up to keep you safe from people like him, then so be it.”
I slumped against the door, my energy draining away. "Rafe, please. I love you, but this... this isn't love. It's control. You need to trust me."
"Trust you?" He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. ". Trust is for the naive doll, people like you… you’ll say anything to get your way…I trusted Sarah once, and look where that got me. She betrayed me. Everyone betrays me."
"I'm not Sarah," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I would never hurt you like that."
There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought I had gotten through to him. But then he spoke again, his voice softer, almost pleading.
"Then prove it," he said. "Stay here. Show me that you belong to me and no one else."
"Rafe, this isn't the way," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "You can't lock me up and expect me to be happy. Please, let me out. We can talk about this. We can work through it together."
Another long silence. I held my breath, hoping against hope that he would see reason.
"Fine," he said at last, his voice resigned. "I'll let you out. But remember this, if you ever betray me, if you ever give me a reason to doubt you again, it won't be the cellar next time. It'll be something much worse.”
As the lock clicked open, a rush of relief flooded through me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the intensity of his embrace. He pulled me into him with such force that it felt like my ribs might crack under the pressure.
“You have to understand, doll" he murmured, his voice strained with emotion. "I only do this because I love you. I can't bear the thought of losing you, of someone else taking you away from me. You're mine,and I'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine."
His words were like a twisted lullaby, laced with possessiveness and control. I wanted to believe him, to believe that his actions stemmed from love, but deep down, I knew it wasn't right.
"I love you too, Rafe," I whispered, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "But locking me up like this... it's not the answer."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine for reassurance. "I know it seems extreme, but it's the only way I can keep you safe, y/n. You have to trust me on this."
I nodded, though doubt still lingered in the back of my mind. His grip on me softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch both comforting and suffocating all at once.
“We'll get through this together," he said, his voice a mixture of determination and possessiveness. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let anything or anyone come between us again."
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shootingmorningstar · 2 months
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Hiii!!! Would it be ok to request hcs of Lucifer, Husk, Vox with an affectionate s/o please?
Absolutely it is .ᐟ.ᐟ When the gender of the reader isn't specified in a request I default to gn, but if that's not what you were looking for, let me know .ᐟ
LUCIFER, HUSK AND VOX
WITH AN AFFECTIONATE READER.
LUCIFER.
He adores it. Absolutely adores you and every single sweet thing you say to him, every touch you give him. However it may be you usually show you affections, put him on the receiving end and he is absolutely melting. He is so, so sweet to the people he loves. Seriously.
Reach out to take his hand while the two of you are out on a date .ᐣ He is swooning -- especially if you're so excited to be spending time with him you swing your hands together.
The first time you gave him a gift simply because it reminded you of him, he really and truly almost teared up. He is the King of Hell -- he could have anything and everything he ever wanted, but most days it feels like he has nothing.
Nothing that really matters, anyway. What's the point of all the power he wields if he can't use it to be happy .ᐣ Of course, Charlie makes him so, so happy, but even after the pair reconcile, Charlie is a grown woman. She has a happy relationship, wonderful friends and perhaps most of all, she has a cause.
She doesn't have all the time in the world to spend cheering up her lonely father. Living in the Hotel helps, but as soon as she leaves, he finds that empty feeling crawling right back up his spine.
That's exactly where you come in -- a rare blessing in his long, long life. His wonderful partner who came home with a gift wrapped especially for him .ᐣ
The gift has him weak in the knees. It doesn't even matter what's in the box, the fact that you love him enough to think of him even when he's not around means more than you could ever know.
All of your gestures are priceless to him. They're one of the things he loves about you the most.
He goes out of his way to return the thought and care every single time. Please let him spoil you. Let him feel like he's finally using all of that power and money for a good cause because to him .ᐣ There is no better cause. Your smile when he gives you an outfit you'd had your eye on and takes you out to your favorite place to eat is all the thanks he'd ever need.
Your affection has been one of the driving forces that gets him to realize the good in his people he'd been too ignorant to look for was right in front of him all along. If someone as wonderful as you can wind up in Hell, perhaps he's judged his realm too harshly.
You could never, ever be too affectionate to Lucifer and he wants you to know it. Be unapologetically yourself, that's when he loves you best. Never feel like you're smothering him with your love. Your kindness is putting the King back together piece by piece.
HUSK.
Similarly to Lucifer, Husk is a character that could really use your affection. He may not be quite as outwardly sappy about it as the King, but that doesn't make him any less appreciative.
Someone sweet and loving makes for a really good partner for Husk, actually, and on a deeper reason than just the timeless grumpy and sunshine dynamic duo. Someone like you would do good to help bring him out of his shell, bring a little light to his life.
Words of affirmation and acts of service hit him particularly hard. Hearing that he matters from his partner and that he's worth something even now would do wonders for his psyche, as would a simple meaningful gesture, even something as small as cleaning the glasses behind the bar for him. Anything to make his work load just a little bit easier.
Overhearing you tell another resident of the Hotel just how much you adore him may just stop him in his tracks. Not only are you incredibly affectionate to him, you're sharing your love for him with others .ᐣ You care about him that much .ᐣ He's whistling behind the bar counter for the rest of the day and nobody can figure out why Husk of all people is in such good spirits.
One of his favorite things about you is the way you comb through his fur. You're so gentle in the way you touch him for no other reason than not wanting to hurt somebody you love. You work through each snag caught on the brush slowly so as to not hurt him and he is so, so grateful.
Ask him to look up something for you and he's surprised to see his own face staring back at him as your lockscreen. Even moreso when he unlocks your phone and finds the homescreen a picture of the pair of you. Even when you're not meaning to, you're still finding a way to knock the air out of his lungs.
Right before leaving the Hotel for the day you like to stock him up with his favorite snacks behind the bar, something non alcoholic to drink and painkillers if he takes it a little too heavy on the booze.
Husk has a lot harder of a time being so outward with his affections and so replicating it is a little difficult for him, but he will never let you think he doesn't appreciate what you do for him. Just be patient with him.
He will, however, always let you know that your emotions are safe with him, that he will never judge you or your love languages and that the two of you have each other no matter what.
VOX.
To be completely honest .ᐣ I think Vox is a little baffled. How he found himself in a genuine relationship in the first place is still beyond him -- and with someone so loving, at that. Despite the image he tries to sell on social media & television, it's not too hard to figure out that he really isn't that good of a person.
You both are in Hell and most sinners fall for good reason, so despite the fact that making the assumption that a powerful sinner soul being corrupted is easy to make, the large majorities of Hell probably just doesn't have it in them to care.
You're different, though -- you're a shining example of the fact that not all sinners are innately evil, or just too far gone. From the moment Vox had met you, he had seen that you were good.
Why in Hell had you taken a liking to him .ᐣ He's not upset about it per se, just confused. Initially a little frustrated at best. Before you came along, he thought he'd be content, no, happy with the way his life was for eternity.
What didn't he have .ᐣ He had power, he had money, he had allies. What else could he possibly need .ᐣ Relationships were not for him. The strange fling he had going on with Valentino was romance aplenty for him.
That is, of course, until you came along. You had been interested in him from the very start, and you weren't afraid to show it. At first, he saw you as just another sinner to manipulate.
Apparently being kind and loving doesn't equate to a pushover . . . . .ᐣ News to him.
You asked him on a date and were nothing short of wonderful during it, listening to what he had to say with great interest -- but at the same time, you refused to let him speak over you or order you around.
His curiosity is what made him call you back for a second date. And a third, and a fourth.
He's absolutely loathe to admit it, but by the fifth date that excuse grows worn. He's not just curious about you, he's grown used to your presence. Even sort of misses you when you go. How annoying.
Maybe it's refreshing to have someone support him without secondhand motives, or maybe it's an error .ᐣ He usually can't stand being disrespected. Either way, he grows used to having you around, having your support and love.
He will NEVER bring you to the Vee's meetings. Not after he's come to consider you his. He doesn't want to risk Velvette's cocky attitude being contagious and he will absolutely never leave you around Val. He doesn't mind Val being .... the way he is, but to you.ᐣ Absofuckinglutely not.
Having a partner is seeming to do wonderful things for his image, and he comes to love you in his own very Vox-y way, so continue on with your doting and affections. Keep memorizing his favorite drinks and especially don't stop fixing his bowtie and kissing his cheek before he leaves for work.
Congratulations, you've fixed him . . . .ᐣ Kinda sorta .ᐣ Pet trained .ᐣ Who knows. But you're happy and he's happy, and that's all that matters.
I hope these were to your satisfaction .ᐟ I have a hard time imagining any sort of relationship with Vox as being overly healthy because we all saw the kind of person he is. With that in mind, I tried to do my best for a workaround to keep it in line with both the prompt and his character.
Let me know how I did .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated to write, as always ~ .ᐟ
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amomentsescape · 2 months
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hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)
I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.
(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)
Slashers with Mermaid! Reader
Yandere! Slashers x Reader
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo
A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).
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Freddy Krueger
Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life
He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death
You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world
Your dynamic is pretty ideal too
Whenever you sleep, you can visit him
And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi
He does this quite often, in fact
He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried
You're his
He doesn't trust anyone being around you
Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately
He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world
He can create the perfect environment for you
Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires
Which hopefully it does
Since he isn't willing to wait much longer
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Michael Myers
He never thought creatures like you actually existed
But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment
He visits more often then you think
He's always around, watching
You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from
He enjoys watching you swim and just relax
But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you
There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill
But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy
He hates seeing you touch other people
And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise
He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times
You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side
Right?
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Jason Voorhees
Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason
But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear
He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before
He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current
But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness
He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories
But he knows that's nearly impossible
He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest
You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job
He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you
He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?
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Thomas Hewitt
In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you
But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten
And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others
He was kind to you
And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can
You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells
He wears every single one of them
Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you
But Thomas can only take so much
Why can't you be closer?
He knows the family would love you
And he could make you so happy
His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it
He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you
He's just got to be patient
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Bubba Sawyer
His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days
But he just couldn't help it
You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side
He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it
He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else
That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!
That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again
He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it
This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else
You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty
And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same
He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it
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Brahms Heelshire
He hates this dynamic between you two
He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else
No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him
He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop
He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does
It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times
He wants that too, so desperately
Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days
Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you
He insists it's to keep you safe
In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while
And you can thank Brahms for that
The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them
He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him
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Norman Bates
It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real
He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream
He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters
But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once
He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster
Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7
He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you
He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times
He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together
Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough
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Billy Loomis
Doesn't tell a single soul about you
Not even Stu
And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people
He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you
Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water
Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales
He just thinks you're all around incredible
But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation
He wants to walk around town with you, show you off
He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be
And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times
He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general
He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him
He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him
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Stu Macher
He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death
And Stu was immediately enamored
He comes to see you whenever he can
He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you
He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him
You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him
He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people
How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list
He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before
He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you
And if you argue against it, he will shut down
The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker
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Vincent Sinclair
Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made
You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7
He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell
He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him
He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to
But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him
Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil
Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people
The only one who should be receiving that attention is him
Barely sleeps at night
He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes
Is overall obsessed even more than you know
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Bo Sinclair
If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush
The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly
You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life
He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you
He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live
But little do you know of his darker nature
He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them
He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him
And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you
You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted
You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea
It will be a great surprise
543 notes · View notes
inherdaze · 3 months
Text
jungle — kiyoomi sakusa
kiyoomi x f reader
18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy
9k
summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.
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There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over. 
Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat. 
“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”
 You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”
“The Sakusa family?”
“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.
“He’s coming home.”
“From the war?”
 “Yes.” 
“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.” 
She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely. 
She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.” 
“Why? For dinner?”
“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”
You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”
“We’ve been exchanging letters.”
Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death. 
She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”
“Huh? Why not?”
Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”
You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed. 
“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?” 
You hum and nod. “Okay.”
There’s a pause.
“When will he be here?”
Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.
“Tomorrow.”
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You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs. 
The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky. 
As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.
You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.
“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.
You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.
Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.
The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market. 
“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.” 
“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”
She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.” 
She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.
The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around. 
You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times. 
You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor? 
Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.
You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.
When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent. 
Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—
“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.
“Hi… hi.”
He stares at you blankly.
“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back. 
“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”
“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 
“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you. 
He doesn't. 
As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there. 
You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.
You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind. 
Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived. 
You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.
You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived. 
She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you. 
“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”
Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens. 
“My apologies, miss.”
The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think. 
His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”
He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions. 
“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides. 
“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”
She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup. 
The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter. 
The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well. 
You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already. 
To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things. 
Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”
By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.” 
You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second. 
Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder. 
Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you. 
“How are the vegetables doing?”
“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward. 
You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven). 
You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.” 
Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.” 
The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home. 
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The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.
You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass. 
Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold! 
After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you. 
“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.
Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants. 
You drop the bucket.
“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”
You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.
You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.” 
It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic. 
“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.
“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.” 
You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him. 
“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.
He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.
He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too. 
The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine. 
“I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves. 
“I’ve already forgiven you.” 
“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”
He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated. 
“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.” 
He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.
You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.
Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that). 
He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning. 
When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless. 
You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has. 
There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do). 
The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead. 
In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away. 
Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.
“Talk to them,” You encourage. 
He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”
“Ask them how they are.” 
Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.” 
You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”
He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.
When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.
You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help. 
“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.” 
“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.” 
“How so?”
He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside. 
When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you. 
“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.” 
Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively. 
“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi. 
He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.” 
“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.” 
The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response. 
After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean. 
Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright. 
“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion. 
“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.” 
He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.” 
You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue. 
Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.” 
He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter. 
“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.” 
That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts. 
“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.” 
You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay. 
Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.” 
It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out. 
You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.” 
The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed. 
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You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way. 
He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on. 
You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love. 
You peer down into the pot. 
“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.” 
He bites his cheek at your dramatics.
You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way. 
He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.” 
You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again. 
He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste. 
When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own. 
Your fingers twitch. 
“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.” 
You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes. 
You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut. 
You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—
“I’ve arrived early!”
The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor. 
“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen. 
She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.
“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.” 
He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.
“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”
At that, a smile slips onto your face. 
“Yes. Cook with love.”
When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love. 
You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share. 
The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable. 
Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.
You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you. 
“Let me help.”
Your cheeks burn. 
He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?” 
It’s a little loose. 
“Tighter, please.”
He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching. 
“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure. 
It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you). 
You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one. 
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The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space. 
On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand. 
You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door. 
You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him. 
The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs. 
Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers. 
“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.” 
“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you. 
“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay). 
“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?” 
“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.” 
Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush. 
Finally, he fesses up. 
“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.” 
You see Kiyoomi make a face. 
“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.” 
“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens. 
“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?” 
The both of you choke. 
You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening. 
“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”
“Don’t be like that, Omi.”
“Miya.”
“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”
“You are unbearable.”
Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated. 
“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.” 
You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes. 
After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way. 
When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.
You only hum in response. 
Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around. 
You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe. 
As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around. 
You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward. 
“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole. 
“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi. 
“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.
Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—” 
“Miya.” 
“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.” 
He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush. 
Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you. 
“Would you like some dinner?”
“Yes, please.”
You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side. 
In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.
“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.” 
He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly. 
“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left. 
“Miya told me to confess to you.” 
Your blood runs cold. Confess…? 
Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it. 
You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room. 
When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day. 
He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously. 
“I wish you could come with me.” 
You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile. 
“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say. 
“Goodnight, angel.” 
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Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does). 
The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done. 
As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it. 
(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).
Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.
One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy. 
The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door. 
Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige. 
You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely. 
When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.
“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.” 
And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you. 
“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb. 
“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day. 
The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in. 
“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.” 
His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.” 
Your mouth drops open. 
Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.
Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.” 
You stay rooted still. 
“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.  
He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.” 
It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together. 
(He wants to). 
It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt. 
“Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”
He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth. 
“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him. 
It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please. 
Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear. 
He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.
His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name. 
He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in. 
“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”
Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!” 
He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.” 
You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll. 
You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you. 
Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 
You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly. 
“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 
He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you. 
In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!” 
“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.” 
You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes. 
“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?” 
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You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again. 
“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.” 
He gives an approving cluck. 
You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand. 
“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe. 
“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around. 
“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock. 
“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.” 
“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”
“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately. 
“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips. 
“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?” 
You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.” 
“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.” 
You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love. 
Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.
As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you. 
“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.” 
You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip. 
“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”
“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!” 
“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!” 
“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—” 
The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own. 
Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.
603 notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 4 months
Text
[+18]
V and fuckboy playboy/wingman male Darling-
Hear me out-
Darling is the son of some other loaded family that has close ties with V's. The two cross paths at a gathering and their parents urge them to make friends. Darling plays video games. V plays video games. They exchange numbers with some persuasion from their folks and set up a time to play something together although begrudgingly on V's end. V ends up having a better time than he expected, but right before he really starts to enjoy his time with Darling - he tells V he has to head out.
"Nice meeting you, dude. We gotta do this again. I got a girl coming over and I gotta bounce."
And just like that V's hopes are crushed. He's still learning about his attraction towards guys, but - Darling was sorta cute....
"oh....so you have a girlfriend."
Darling laughs.
"Nah, man. Haven't found the right girl...or guy to tie me down yet, plus I'm just enjoying the single life for now.... I can send pics after we're done if you want. She's totally chill and likes when I show her off."
Pictures?.... V agrees - thinking not much of it. He goes back to playing and eventually it slips from his mind. Hours later he receives photos of what looks to be a topless girl in a dimly lit room. She smiles big at the camera - eyes and upper face blocked from sight by the shaft of the bastard with her cheek pressed to his inner thigh. He still had on the same pair of sweats V had seen him in earlier that day. He only met this guy not even twenty-four hours ago and now he's seen his dick. Even worse - there's a pretty girl with her lipstick and spit all over it in the same picture. V's pissed - yet the image magically appears in one of his porn holders later on."
"what the hell...."
"My bad! I thought you might like it. You don't seem like a guy who gets a lot of action... If you ever want to meet someone, just give me a call. I know a lot of people who'd be interested in a rich brat like you."
This guy.... he acts like he's any different. V thinks Darling is a freak to put things lightly, but its not like he has other people to hang out with. As the two hang out V sees that Darling isn't as bad as he first seemed. He's still a horny, inconsiderate prick most days - but he's still the best thing V has to a friend and cares for V in his own way..... Still sends V dick pics he sweats were for someone els.
Darling is genuinely surprised that V has never been with someone. Sure, he doesn't seem like he gets that much attention, but he was sure V had at least kissed someone once. The topic comes up when Darling tries for the hundredth time to hook with up with one of his flings. He's always sending V evidence of the nights he spent with strangers. Oddly enough - V only ever complains about the videos and photos when they don't have darling in them as well.
"Damn.... I know you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're cute I thought somebody would've looked past that.....
V hates with Darling says shit like that. He's not used to people flirting with him and... and it gives him false hope. "Shut up....
"So, think she's cute? I can give her your number~"
"I don't want it."
This sucks.... By now, V's fully aware of his crush on Darling - and he fucking hates the bastard for what he's doing to him. If Darling is so concerned about him seeing people why doesn't he just take V out instead. He jerks off to everything Darling sends him wondering when he'll get his turn. V has some solace in the fact Darling rare sees any of his partners twice. V has been with him and always will be with him longer than any of them have. He just has to be patient.....and ruin any chances Darling has of being with anyone else.
V nearly jumps out of his skin reading one of Darling's numerous drunken texts.
"Hey, man. Totally speaking out my ass here, but would you ever be down to have a threesome sometime ;)"
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mochinomnoms · 24 days
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Wondering if MC and Jade marrying each other and have children, will that child have MC ability to read people mind? And If so, imagine that MC didn't tell jade about her ability only for her child casually told their father about it Infront of MC, MC be like:
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I am currently leaning to having Jade find out about Yuu's telepathy in PTM, but this scenario is also incredibly funny as hell.
I can't go into why Yuu got magic, as it's a very large spoiler, but I can say that no one is quite sure if their abilities are hereditary or not due to the nature in which they were gained.
Assuming these are biological children, it's a delightful surprise for Yuu when they find out that their little one can also read minds! How nice, to have someone just like you! Yuu is excitedly telling them all the ways in which they can overcome the difficult parts of being a telepath, how to try and not be too invasive, and how to be sneaky about it with others.
Yuu, however, forgets to tell their kid that their dad isn't exactly privy to their telepathy. So they're sweating just an itty bitty bit when their kid's big mouth goes off on it with their dad, saying:
“It's so weird, Papa! This one girl at school likes me, I can hear her head, but she's always so mean to me. But Ama says that it's not too bad once you get used to it, like they did with you in school! Ama said that you had a buncha thoughts about them in school all the time, like my classmate did. Oh! Do you think I'll get to marry her too, like you and Ama?”
Jade is staring at you with a pleasant smile, chin in his hand, as he hums along to his child's talking. “Why, of course!” He tells them, still staring at you with mischievous eyes and an even more mischievous smile.
“I think you like this girl too, or else you wouldn't be thinking about marrying her. Now, why don't you go off and play with your friend next door, we'll clean up.”
Your kid, none the wiser and not really trying to process whatever thoughts are going through your heads, nods and runs off to play. You two stay in the kitchen as you take the dishes to be washed, and Jade puts the leftovers away to take for lunch tomorrow. As you wash the dishes, Jade spooks you by wrapping his arms around your midsection and kissing your left temple.
After years of marriage, you'd become less aware of Jade's presence around you, it was becoming second nature. Like his mind was just another part of your own. So, when you were distracted like times like this, Jade reveled in being able to spook you, just a bit.
“So, telepathy, hmm?” Jade sighed, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “That would certainly explain a few things. Though, that does bring up a question…”
Jade pushed you against the sink, tightening his hold around you and he hummed against your neck. His thoughts were busy with ideas of taking you against the sink, of covering your mouth to keep you quiet, of littering bites along your collarbone like a pretty red necklace.
“Did you like hearing all my dirty thoughts about you? About the ways I wanted to take you? Use you? Make you my own?”
The front of your shirt was getting wet, the plate in your hands dropping into the soapy hot water as you grabbed his hands, wandering under your shirt and into your pants.
“J-Jade, not here, it's embarrassing—”
“Oh, but you like that, why else would you let me pursue you? You knew how I felt, and yet never shut me down. Why? Because you wanted me too? You can admit it my pearl, it's okay, I like it when you get flustered~ You're so cute when you are, no wonder you had me wrapped around your finger~”
Jade began moving his hips against yours, his breath becoming heavy as you moved against him despite your earlier remarks. Because yes, you really did like the way he made you hot and bothered. You liked that he desired you so reverently, even now, after years of being together. It was like you two never really left your honeymoon phase.
“Our little one will be at their playmate's for a while, why don't you read my mind and tell me about all the things I want to do to you?”
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roboticchibitan · 1 year
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I remember when same sex marriage was legized in my state (3 years before obergefel vs Hodges which legalized it nationwide). It won by a very narrow margin.
People who had taken care of me when I was young, people who were like second parents to me, (along with half the other people I knew) were saying it was the end times because I could now get married. And I couldn't help but wonder... would those people have protected me, cared for me, let me play with their children, if they had known I would grow up to be queer?
I came out in 2011. I was lucky. My parents were accepting. My mom was clearly uncomfortable at first but she made it clear she loved me no matter what.
Except.
My dad didn't care if I was queer and assured me that didn't mean there was anything wrong with me (in a speech I didn't need to hear but I think he needed to say). But he still said "that's gay" and "that's faggy" anytime my little brother showed vulnerability.
And I was a lucky one. My father used homophobic slurs around me regularly. He turned the word gay into a slur with his homophobic mouth. And I was a lucky one.
When I came out publicly, my grandmother stopped speaking to me for a while. I'm lucky that she changed her mind. I'm lucky that my grandparents let me bring my girlfriend with me when I went to visit them in October. October of 2022 and I still consider myself lucky that my grandparents let my queer partner into their house. My other grandma likewise visited with us, and was polite and friendly, but she still refused to call my gf anything other than "your friend." Still lucky. Incredibly lucky.
People don't understand just how bad things were as much as ten years ago. When I came out at school, I was lucky. No one bullied me. No one shoved me into lockers or called me slurs. They all just stopped talking to me. I became invisible. I went to a small school. I was the only person who was out. Exactly one person talked to me the rest of the year. And I was a lucky one.
When I was in middle and highschool, the go to insult was "that's gay." I heard it constantly. Every day. Sometimes people said it to me to insult me, long before I even knew I was queer.
I was lucky because the worst that happened to me was social isolation and people using slurs around me or turning my identity into a slur. No one called ME faggy. No one beat me up behind the school bleachers. I was incredibly lucky.
I have experienced the word "gay" used as a slur far more than I ever heard the word "queer" used as a slur. Young "queer is a slur and only a slur" people need to know the world you live in is not the world the rest of us live in. Why is "queer" a slur but "gay" isn't? My homophobic father thought the word "gay" conveyed just as much offense and disgust as the word "faggot." So why is queer the horrible word that can never be reclaimed but people say "that's gay" as a compliment now? The loneliest I have ever felt was in a room full of teenagers who thought my identity was the height of insults. So why is gay fine but queer isn't?
I am a fat butch queer and I do not hide that. My shoes have a pride flag on them. I have a masculine haircut and wear men's clothes. I look queer.
And I am afraid. I dress like this anyway, because I want other queer folks to know I am a safe person. I dress how I do partially because I like it but also partially so any queer person in the room, no matter now closeted, can see me and feel a little bit safer. Because I will protect other queer people with my life if need be.
Because I am openly and visibly queer and live in a world where being queer can get you killed. Because it can. Gay bashings still happen. The alt right are getting bolder in their violence, and that includes homophobic/transphobic violence. There are organizations in the US that are actively pushing to make homosexuality punishable by death in Africa. They know they could never accomplish that here. But they would if they could. People want us dead.
Young people need to understand that. And they need to understand that the people who did the most work to free us from criminalization were queer. They identified as queer. And they weren't the perfect law abiding queers toeing the line of what's acceptible. Because being queer itself was illegal. You could end up on the sex offender registry for being gay. In fact, there are queer people who are STILL registered as sex offenders just because they were queer in 2001. Pride wasn't a permitted parade with wells Fargo floats. It was angry queers illegally marching down the streets, screaming "We're here. We're queer. Get used to it."
Being openly queer is a radical act. It is still a radical act.
I did not live through Windsor vs the united states, the referendum 74 debate, my father punishing my brother for being human with homophobic slurs, and the pearl clutching fearmongering about "the gay agenda" (that was a go to phrase for 2012 homophobes) for some LGBT kid to come at me with TERF bullshit they got off tiktok about how my identity is a slur and I'm a horrible person for using it.
I was a lucky one and I'm still saying "no, absolutely not" to this bullshit.
Queer is more inclusive. Queer accounts for any possible fluidity because people change. Identities change. Queer is there for people who know they're Something Different but are not sure of the details yet. Queer is intentionally vague. When you're young you want everyone to know exactly who you are but as you get older you realize actually my identity is none of your business. In fact, sometimes when you tell someone your identity, you're handing them a bludgeon for them to hurt you with.
If you have trans classmates, you do not understand the world the rest of us grew up in. Trans people were not a public topic. They were not even acknowledged as existing by most people. I didn't know what being trans was until I was like 17. I'm nonbinary now and consider myself trans 10 years later.
And I didn't even have it that bad. But you know what? It still sucked and it was still hard and I can't imagine what it was like to grow up a decade before I did. I had it easy compared to most people.
If you can jokingly say "that's gay" when someone expresses queer love, then you can fucking handle people using the word queer as their identity.
The infighting and policing each other has to stop. You're oppressing queer people with this bullshit. It does not matter what words queer people use to describe themselves when there are people actively killing us. What are you doing? For fucks sake look at the bigger picture. Direct all that rage at our oppressors and the people who mean us harm. Queer people and he/him lesbians and bi lesbians and people who use neo pronouns and whoever else is the discourse of the day do not deserve this kind of treatment. Punch a homophobe and maybe you'll feel better.
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