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#i would never claim to know better than anyone but
lee-laurent · 16 hours
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Summer Boy - Quinn Hughes
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Summary: When Jack brings his best friend to the family lake house for the summer, Quinn realizes the crush he's been harbouring for years may not be one-sided, the only issue his youngest brother is already making moves.
Content: slight angst, fluff, heated make-out
notes: let me know what you think!! this is my first fic on here and i def need to work on getting back into writing :D def not my best work, i don't love it but here we go. def can do a part 2 if anyone wants
Elwyn leaned her head against the cold window of the car, feeling the vibrations reverberate through her body. Jack had fallen asleep about half an hour into the drive, and Elwyn wasn't sure how to join Cole and Trevor's conversation without it being awkward. Quinn, Luke, and some of Luke's college friends were driving up in another car, leaving Elwyn alone and bored for the last few hours.
"You doing alright back there, Winnie?" Cole smiled, catching the brunette's attention from the back seat.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Jack's snoring is getting on my nerves though."
Cole chuckled, catching a glimpse of his friend in the rearview mirror.
"Well, you better wake him up; we'll be there in ten," Trevor laughed.
Elwyn nodded, pushing her best friend as hard as she could while restrained by her seatbelt.
"Ahhh! What the fuck, Winnie? I was sleeping"
Winnie just shrugged. Jack rolled his eyes in response, pouting at her.
"I was having a really nice dream."
"Yeah, what was it about?" she mused.
"Oh, it was amazing. Just me and the boys went on vacation, and I didn't have to bring my stupid best friend named Elwyn. It was pretty much paradise on earth."
Elwyn gasped, "You invited me, you cocksucker!"
"And I'll regret it every day for the rest of my life."
"If Jack didn't invite you, I'm sure Lule would have. He basically loves you," Cole laughed.
"That's not true. Luke doesn't love her, Q-" Trevor started, but was cut off by a slap to his chest from Cole.
Elwyn rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Jack smirked at her in victory, before turning his attention to his phone. The rest of the drive was mostly silent. Jack on his phone, Trevor driving, Cole pointing out the occasional thing he saw, and Elwyn watching as they sped past the lake, the blue looking almost endless.
"Ellie!" Dylan shouted, throwing his arms around the girl. They rocked back and forth, bright smiles plastered on their faces.
"Why does Elwyn get a bigger hug than I did?" Luke questioned, "She doesn't own the house."
"I love Elwyn so much more than you," Dylan joked, narrowing his eyes at his past roommate.
El snatched her duffle bag out of Jack's hands, dissappearing into the house. Jack sighed, grabbing his bag and following her inside.
"You know I love you, Winnie?" he whispered.
"I know, Jack. I love you too," she giggled, flopping down onto the bed in the room that she had claimed, between Luke and Quinn's.
"I still don't get why you don't want to share a room with me. I'm like the best roommate ever."
"Jack."
"Yeah?"
"You snore and steal all the blankets. You're a terrible roommate."
Before Jack could protest, a snicker came from the doorway. Luke was standing there, his body leaned against the frame. Elwyn offered him a small wave, which he gladly returned.
"What's up?" Jack asked.
"Oh, um, Quinn needs help with something out back. Wanted me to ask you to help, Rowdy."
"Why can't El do it?" he groaned.
"Cause if El did it, Quinn would - never mind. Just go help him, dipshit."
"Fine. You coming, Winnie?" Jack sighed.
"I guess," she shrugged, letting him drag her into the backyard.
A few of the guys were playing spikeball, but Quinn was desperately trying to get the boat cover off. It seemed like it had been superglued on. He looked up when he heard two new voices enter the yard. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped what he was doing when he saw Elwyn walking in step with Jack. He had specifically told Luke not to send her hout, why couldn't he follow simple instructions?!
"Hey, Quinn," Elwyn smiled, twisting one of the rings she had on.
"H-hey, Elwyn. How's it going?"
"Would be better if your brother wasn't so annoying?"
"Who? Luke?" Jack smiled, earning a punch in the arm.
Quinn chuckled nervously, turning his attention to his brother, "Can you hekpl me with this, Jack? I think Dad fucking superglued it on."
"Sure," Jack sighed, climbing up onto the boat with his brother.
Quinn tried his best to keep his attention on the boat, but that was proving difficult with Elwyn there. Quinn had had a crush on Elwyn for as long as he could remember. It was hard with her always being around because of Jack. And it was going to be even more difficult now that she was spending the next two weeks of summer with them.
"Quinn! Quintin! Hello?" Jack waved his hand in front of his brother's face.
"Huh?"
"You zoned out. Elwyn's going to help Luke with something inside."
"Oh, uh, okay."
"Are you okay, dude?"
"I'm fine, Jack. Just help me with the boat."
Jack raised his hands in defence as Quinn rolled his eyes.
Elwyn laughed as Luke splashed water from the sink at her. He had asked her to clean some of the dishes that the boys had used for lunch before she arrived with Cole, Trevor, and Jack.
"Stop!" she giggled, flicking some soap at him.
"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to get you all wet," he winked.
"LUKE!"
"Sorry, sounded funnier in my head," he rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushing.
"It was funny, Luke. No sweat."
Just as he was about to open his mouth and make things worse, Trevor walked in slapping him on the back.
"Mind if I steal, Lukey boy. We need another person to play pool."
"Sure. Leave the only woman to do the dishes," Elwyn shook her head.
"I- I can stay, Winnie. Mark or Ethan can play for me."
"It's fine, Rusty. I'm just kidding around."
Luke gave her a thumbs up, drying off his hands and disappearing with Trevor into the other room. Elwyn giggled at Luke's awkwardness, wondering where his sudden flirting had come from. She thought it was endearing almost. She was used to Jack's friends flirting with her, but his younger brother... that was new. It intrigued her, although Jack would shoot Luke on the spot if he overheard.
Elwyn sat cuddled up next to Jack in a deck chair, a blanket thrown over her legs that were propped on Jack's, one of his many Devils hoodies swallowing her frame. She choked on her beer as Trevor continued his story about striking out terribly at a club a few days before.
"What do you think, El? Who's got the best moves here?" Cole cackled.
"I- um, Quinn? Maybe? Like the quiet, mysterious type? Girls like that."
Quinn could feel his face heating up as the group of guys broke out in laughter.
"Quinn?! Are you kidding? Quinn's too busy thinking about-"
"Trevor! What were you saying about beer pong?" Cole cut him off.
"Oh, right! Me and Cole versus Elwyn and.... Luke!"
Don't be jealous. Don't be jealous, Quinn repeated in his head.
"Are you any good, Ellie?" Dylan asked.
"Oh, I mean, I'm okay... I guess."
"Don't be humble, Winnie! She's a pro! Whenever she comes to Jersey, we destroy everyone!" Jack claimed, smiling brightly.
"We'll see about that," Trevor smirked.
Elwyn sighed, getting up from her comfy spot next to Jack. Luke wrapped his arm around her shoulders, directing her towards the table the boys had set up not far from where the fire was. This way the group around the fire could still watch the game, while enjoying the warmth.
Trevor and Cole went first, both missing. Elwyn dipped the ball in a cup, before tossing it. Luke cheered as it landed in the cup, pulling her into a side-hug by her waist. Quinn gripped his drink a little tighter.
The game continued similarly, although Trevor and Cole sunk a few balls, leaving Elwyn feeling pretty tipsy. She sunk the last ball and Luke picked her up, spinning her around. She laughed, her anxiety from earlier being wiped away by the alcohol in her system. He placed her back down on the ground, staring into her eyes. She giggled, watching his eyes flicker to her lips. Jack, however, also noticed. He quickly walked over to the table, slapping Luke on the back, breaking him from his Elwyn induced stupor. Quinn was thanking whatever god was watching over him, because he felt like he was going to puke watching the moment between his youngest brother and the girl he was hopelessly in love with.
"Alright, I think it's time we head in," Jack said, a fake smile on his face.
"Why? We're having fun," Elwyn slurred, placing her hand on Luke's chest.
"Because... you've had too much to drink, Winnie."
"What? No, I have not. I'm fine, Jacky. You worry too much."
Jack could see Elwyn wasn't coming in without a fight, however he was starting to feel like if he left her out here any longer she'd be making out with Luke. He was not about to let that happen.
"Come on, El. If we go to bed now, we'll be able to wake up early and spend more time on the boat. And you can wear that swimsuit you were telling me about."
Her eyes lit up at the mention of the new bikini she had purchased for this trip. It was beyond cheeky and the cutest shade of red. Deep down she was hoping it would grab the attention of one of Luke's friends. Didn't matter which one, she just wanted to get laid. It had been a while and it was starting to get to her. She nodded in excitement, letting Jack intertwine their fingers and walk into the house.
As soon as she was gone, Luke's friends hopped out of their seats, hollering and playfully slapping the boy.
"Damn, Hughesy! Tryin' to make a move on Winnie in front of Jack! Ballsy as fuck!" Ethan laughed.
"I see you, Luke. Get the girl!"
"Okay, Rusty! I see you!"
Quinn had heard enough. Elwyn was not some object to win over. He stood up from his chair and stormed into the house. Passing Elwyn's room, he peered in to check on her, but she wasn't there. Confused, he peeked into Jack's room. On Jack's bed laid a very drunk Elwyn and a tipsy Jack. He was attempting to get her to change into some of his clothes, but she was already half asleep. Jack looked over at his door when he heard the floor creak, noticing his brother looking in, he got up and pushed the door shut in his face.
"Come on, El. You don't want to sleep in jean shorts. You'll wake up and complain. I know you."
El just whined and started pulling her shorts down her legs. While it wasn't the first time she'd undressed in front of her lifelong best friend, it still caught him off guard. He turned around and faced the wall, laughing when he felt the shorts hit him on the back.
"Happy?" she mumbled.
"Yes, now get under the covers. I'll join in a minute."
"Night, Jacky."
"Good night, Winnie."
Jack sighed, climbing in next to Elwyn. He knew she wouldn't remember anything when she woke up, but if Luke did he was ready to kick his ass. He could feel the anger bubbling in his chest, when suddenly a leg swung over his and a sigh came from next to him. He laughed, pulling Elwyn into his chest. He'd kill Luke later, right now he needed sleep.
Elwyn groaned, shoving her face further into Jack's neck. At least, she assumed it was Jack's neck. She didn't remember much of the night before after beer pong started. Slowly, she peeled open her eyes. Yep, it was Jack. Thank god. Jack muttered something, his grip on her waist tightening. There were no blankets on El, as she had predicted, Jack had stolen them all. Where were her shorts? Carefully, she moved Jack's arm off her, climbing out of the bed. She slid on her shorts and ran across the hall to her room.
God, she needed a shower.
Next thing Elwyn knew, she was out on the boat surrounded by boys. The boat was pretty full, so she found herself perched on Jack's lap, listening to the boys talk about hockey. She couldn't help but notice Luke's gaze that kept falling on her, she'd just flash him a tight-lipped smile every time their eyes met. The boat stopped and most of the boys jumped into the water, Elwyn however was going to use this time to tan. She slipped off her shorts and lay down on the bench of the boat, basking in the feeling of the sun on her skin.
Quinn, who was treading water next to Luke, was trying not to stare. It was proving difficult though, seeing the girl in her barely there bikni, reading a book. He felt like a hormonal teenager, especially when she started applying more sunscreen to her body. He could have sworn that his gulp was audible, as she trailed her hands over her chest and shoulders.
"Someone needs a cold shower," Ethan laughed, patting Luke on the back. Quinn's head whipped in the direction of his brother. Had Luke been staring too? Since when was Luke interested in Elwyn? Was his little brother his competition now?
"Winnie! Get in!" Jack complained from the water.
"No. I'm tanning."
"You've been tanning for an hour. Join us!"
She groaned, pulling her claw clip from her hair. She climbed up on the side of the boat, plugging her nose as she jumped.
"AH! IT'S SO COLD! Holy shit!" she shrieked as soon as she resurfaced. She swam over next to Quinn, placing a hand on his shoulder to stay afloat. Quinn thought his skin might have been on fire in that moment despite the cold water.
"Hey, Winnie," he whispered.
"Hi, Quinn," she smiled, "Your boat driving skills are quite impressive."
"Thanks. Was trying extra hard just for you."
She giggled, "Wow, I'm flattered."
"Yeah, precious cargo. Had to keep you safe." Where had this confidence come from? Maybe talking to Elwyn was easier than he thought.
"You're cute, Quinny," she smiled, swimming off towards Jack.
"Oh my god, she thinks I'm cute," he mumbled.
"Did you say something, Quinn?" Luke asked.
"Huh? No, no. Just thinking about tonight."
"Okay?"
Little did Quinn know that night was going to change everything.
Once again, everyone was gathered around the fire, cooking hotdogs over the flames. Elwyn was chattering away with Jack, explaining to him how to cook the hotdog correctly.
"No, it'll still be cold on the inside now. You have to give it more time. You're like a child, so fucking impatient."
"It won't be cold; I've been holding it over a fire."
"Are you kidding around? You're so dumb."
"Fine. I'll just burn it."
"Just because it's charred on the outside, doesn't mean it's burned. I actually cannot stand you. I'm going to sit with Quinn."
"Whatever. Have fun with that."
Quinn prayed that the darkness would shield Elwyn from seeing the blush that covered his face as she sat on the arm of his chair.
"Your brother was pissing me off."
"Not surprised. Not sure how you've put up with him for so many years."
"Me neither. You're clearly the better Hughes boy."
"Ha, yeah..."
A couple drinks later and Elwyn had moved from the arm of the chair to Quinn's lap. Jack hadn't noticed, too busy playing spikeball. Quinn's fingers drummed mindlessly against her exposed side, her head leaning on his shoulder.
"Quinn."
"Hm?"
"Have I ever told you that you're like the cutest guy ever?"
"What? No? Why?"
"Then I'll do it now. You're like the cutest guy ever."
"Where is this coming from, El?"
"My mind? My heart? I'm not sure. I thought you were cute when I was 16. But you were too cool for me."
"Too cool for you? No, you're too cool for me."
"Funny. I like your nose," she smiled, running her finger over the slope of it.
"Thanks. I like you."
"What?"
"I- I like your nose too."
"Thanks, Quinny."
"Do you want another drink?"
"Sure. I'll come with you."
The two walked off into the house unnoticed, going to find more alcohol. Elwyn perched herself on the counter as Quinn dug around in the fridge.
"Is Ultra okay?"
"Mmhm."
Quinn handed her the can and went to walk back outside, when her hand caught his collar. She pulled him closer, spreading her legs to slot him inbetween.
"Can I kiss you?" she whispered like someone would hear.
"I-" Quinn stopped himself, leaning in and capturing her lips with his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, quickly being met with her open mouth. He slid his hand up her side, tucking it under the thin string of her bikini top.
"Upstairs," she mumbled against his lips. He nodded, allowing her to jump off the counter and drag him to his room. Their lips met again as she backed them towards the bed. He caught himself before he could crush her, trailing a hand up her thigh.
"Shirt."
"What?"
"Take your shirt off?" Elwyn offered. Quinn nodded enthusiastically, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. She wasted no time trailing her hands over his pecks, pulling him back in for a kiss. Quinn trailed his hand back under the string of her top, before she redirected it under the small bit of fabric covering her chest. Before Quinn could comment on how amazing she was, her name was called from downstairs.
"ELLIE? YOU IN HERE?" Jack's voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.
"Ignore him. He'll go back outside," she whispered, kissing Quinn's neck.
"ELWYN? YOU OKAY?"
"Fuck. We should go, Winnie."
"But I'm having fun."
"I am too. But Jack will come up soon."
She sighed, sitting up. Quinn squeezed his hand under her shirt one more time, smirking as she narrowed her eyes at him.
"Don't start something you can't finish, Hughes."
He laughed as she sped off to go back to Jack. Maybe this summer would be better than he thought.
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empiredesimparte · 2 days
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⚜ Le Sacre de Napoléon V | N°6 | Francesim, Versailles, 27 Thermidor An 230
Napoleon V met Madame Royale de Thornolie (@theroyalthornoliachronicles) at the coronation gala. It was not the first time she had visited Francesim, but he had never spoken to her before. Curious, he was soon disillusioned by Eleanor's coldness. The young emperor hoped that he had not complicated his future diplomatic relations with the kingdom of Thornolia. He also hoped that she had not formed the wrong impression of him.
Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next
Some of the characters in the background belong to @officalroyalsofpierreland
⚜ Transcription
Louis: Madame Royale, are you enjoying the festivities?
Eleanor: They are certainly festive…
Louis: I'm delighted to see Thornolia is continuing its friendship with Francesim. Do give my regards to your father.
Eleanor: If only you had the opportunity to send your regards in person.
(Long Pause)
Louis: I must say you are intriguing, Madame Royale, for an ambassador. My advisors told me about you, or at least, they told me what they’ve heard of you, so much so I wanted to see if it was true. 
Eleanor: Do tell. What do your advisors deem worthy information to tell you about me?
Louis: They say you're not very talkative, to put it simply. I'd like to invite you to Compiègne one of these days so we can get to know each other better. What do you say?
Eleanor: Tell me, sire, is that all it takes for you to impose yourself on a woman? To hear they are not very talkative?
Louis: Madame, you’ve got me all wrong. I'm just... 
Eleanor: Non. I’m afraid you have me all wrong. Perhaps you shouldn’t take everything you hear to heart, particularly from people who claim their loyalties only to hide their own agendas. Then you might be able to make valid conclusions about people all on your own. In fact, shall I share what I have heard about you? Louis: I'm all ears, Madame…
Eleanor: In the public eye you are the darling boy emperor who everyone loves to praise. Not a single hair out of place, not a single event you attend favouring you negatively. 
Louis: Not an unappealing narrative…
Eleanor: Perhaps the words I’ve heard are more favourable than I lead you on to believe. 
And yet…. watching you tonight it is easy to see why anyone would be hard pressed to see behind the smoke and mirrors act you project. And that’s all you are: Smoke and mirrors. You have had everything handed to you on silver platters and fed to you with silver spoons, and therefore you have no problem believing everyone you deign to speak with will bow down to give you anything you desire. So do forgive me, sire, if I refuse to be another.
Louis: … Last I knew, we are cut from the same cloth.
(Short Pause. this is when Eleanor shows the chink in her armour at Louis’s words)
Eleanor: That may be, Louis, but not everyone cares for their cloth the same way. 
Marie-Joséphine: Your Majesty, may I join you?... Louis: Of course, Mère.
Eleanor: Bonsoir, Madame Mère. 
Marie-Joséphine: Madame Royale. It's a pleasure to meet you. 
Eleanor: Truly, the pleasure is mine. My father was adamant I passed along his regards to you.
Marie-Joséphine: Merci, it’s appreciated.Eleanor: I’m afraid you must forgive me. Despite the lovely evening put together tonight I’m feeling a bit run down and must retire. Pardonnez-moi. (curtseys) Sire, Madame Mère. (Leaves)
⚜ Traduction française
Napoléon V rencontre Madame Royale de Thornolie durant le gala du couronnement. Ce n'est pas la première fois qu'elle se rend en Francesim, mais il n'avait jamais pu s'entretenir avec elle auparavant. Curieux, il déchante bien vite devant la personnalité froide d'Eleanor. Le jeune empereur espère ne pas avoir compliqué ses prochaines relations diplomatiques avec le royaume de Thornolie. Et aussi, qu'elle se soit faite une mauvaise idée de sa personne.
Louis : Madame Royale, appréciez-vous les festivités ?
Eleanor : Elles sont certainement festives...
Louis : Je suis ravi de voir que Thornolie continue son amitié avec la Francesim. Veuillez transmettre mes salutations à votre père.
Eleanor : Si seulement vous aviez l'opportunité de les transmettre en personne.
(Longue pause)
Louis : Je dois dire que vous êtes intrigante, Madame Royale, pour une ambassadrice. Mes conseillers m'ont parlé de vous, ou du moins, ils m'ont dit ce qu'ils avaient entendu sur vous, si bien que j'ai voulu voir si c'était avéré.
Eleanor : Dites-moi donc. Qu'est-ce que vos conseillers jugent digne de vous dire à mon sujet ?
Louis : Ils disent que vous n'êtes pas très bavarde, pour faire simple. J'aimerais vous inviter à Compiègne un de ces jours pour que nous puissions mieux nous connaître. Qu'en dites-vous ?
Eleanor : Dites-moi, sire, est-ce tout ce qu'il vous faut pour vous imposer à une femme ? Entendre dire qu'elle n'est pas très bavarde ?
Louis : Madame, vous m'avez complètement mal compris. Je suis juste...
Eleanor : Non. J'ai bien peur que ce soit vous qui m'ayez mal comprise. Peut-être ne devriez-vous pas prendre à cœur tout ce que vous entendez, surtout de la part de personnes qui prétendent leur loyauté uniquement pour cacher leurs propres agendas. Alors, vous pourriez être capable de tirer des conclusions valables sur les gens par vous-même. En fait, puis-je partager ce que j'ai entendu à votre sujet ?
Louis : Je vous écoute, Madame...
Eleanor : Aux yeux du public, vous êtes le jeune empereur chéri que tout le monde aime louer. Pas un seul cheveu de travers, pas un seul événement auquel vous assistez ne vous désavantage.
Louis : Un récit pas déplaisant...
Eleanor : Peut-être que les mots que j'ai entendus sont plus favorables que je ne vous l'ai laissé croire.
Et pourtant... en vous observant ce soir, il est facile de voir pourquoi il serait difficile de percevoir ce qui se cache derrière l'acte de fumée et de miroirs que vous projetez. Et c'est tout ce que vous êtes : de la fumée et des miroirs. On vous a tout donné sur des plateaux d'argent et nourri avec des cuillères en argent, et donc vous n'avez aucun problème à croire que tous ceux à qui vous daignez parler se prosterneront pour vous donner tout ce que vous désirez. Alors pardonnez-moi, sire, si je refuse d'être une autre.
Louis : ... Pourtant, nous sommes faits de la même étoffe
(Courte pause. C'est à ce moment qu'Eleanor montre une faille dans son armure aux mots de Louis)
Eleanor : C'est peut-être vrai, Louis, mais tout le monde ne prend pas soin de leur tissu de la même manière.
Marie-Joséphine : Votre Majesté, puis-je me joindre à vous ?...
Louis : Bien sûr, Mère.
Eleanor : Bonsoir, Madame Mère.
Marie-Joséphine : Madame Royale. C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer.
Eleanor : Vraiment, le plaisir est pour moi. Mon père était catégorique pour que je vous transmette ses salutations.
Marie-Joséphine : Merci, c'est apprécié.
Eleanor : Je crains que vous deviez me pardonner. Malgré la charmante soirée organisée ce soir, je me sens un peu fatiguée et je dois me retirer. Pardonnez-moi. (révérence) Sire, Madame Mère. (S'en va)
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Note
I think one of the biggest reasons the "Charles is racist" accusations did not stick because the Sussexes also accused Catherine along with Charles. And noone could believe that of Catherine. So it took the wind out of those sails.
Of course, this could just be my own personal bias, but Catherine being racist is just not believable to anyone, even the ones who claim not to like her. Subconsciously most people would go back to their own impression of her when thinking about these accusations and she has such anhuge body of positive presentation (that is, she presents a very positive image, happy countenance, positive body language) all through the years.
Accusing Catherine along with Charles completely trashed the Sussexes years of PR of the BRf being racist. And now most people dismiss Meghan's grievances as her being sensitive or manipulative or lying.
And for once, Charles did not clap back at all. He maintained a very dignified silence and happily went on with his business being the "lovable granpa king" PR construct that he likes to present as.
Which brings me to this - The BRFs policy of never complain never explain seems to really work. Whenever they have reacted immediately and played PR games with Harry and Meghan it backfires. But their long terms stratgies with HnM work well.
Do you think it's good PR management and advisors or are the principals - Charles, William, Camilla, Anne, Catherine - naturally smart, strong people who are completely over Harry's shenanigans. Or do they dislike Meghan so much, she is so transparently maniacal, that they do not want to engage with her at all?
I really marvel at the way Harry and Meghan seem to eventually self-destruct every single time all on their own.
That's a good question. I think some of the principals are naturally smart enough to see through these shenanigans because they understand it's connected to Meghan and they want nothing to do with Meghan. I would put William, Kate, and Anne in this category.
Other principals have strong advisors and when they listen to the advisors, it's really, really effective. I put Charles in this category. When Charles listens to his advisors (which probably include William and Anne) and he honors "never complain, never explain" policy, it works. It grey rocks Harry and Meghan, they can't handle it, and they spin out faster and harder. But Charles has a tendency to go rogue and do his own thing every once in awhile, and when he does that, it feeds into Harry and Meghan and gives them the engagement they want.
Camilla, I think, straddles the fence. Sometimes it feels like she's doing what the advisors advise because at the end of the day, it's her husband and she wants him to be happy and having his wayward son back is probably what he wants. But other times it feels like her own smarts are guiding her interactions (or lack thereof) because Camilla understands self-preservation better than most after what she's been through.
I feel like Sophie and Edward fall in the "strong advisors" camp but I just don't know a whole lot about them personally. I think Sophie's background in PR (before she married in) helped her and Edward navigate some tricky situations so I feel like because she has that background in PR, she's fully aware of how important it is to listen to advisors because she used to be the advisor.
Most of the Yorkies are probably in the "strong advisors" camp but they're not usually listening. Edo is definitely in the "naturally cautious/smart" camp with William and I think he's brought Bea onto that side now as well, or he's at least serving as Bea's advisor and it's worked well for her.
I do think each and every one of them are all so over Meghan, especially after how she and Harry made The Queen's and Prince Philip's funerals about them. No one wants anything to do with her anymore, not even Eugenie, to the point where she's being very obviously "NFI'd" from events involving the royal family. Like the Westminster wedding - it's a pretty clear sign where the Sussexes stand that they weren't even invited, despite the PR claiming they graciously turned the invitation down so Charles and William could attend instead.
(Because let's be real. When has Meghan ever put someone else first before herself?)
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izvmimi · 15 hours
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cw: angst.
“I know you’re probably sick of me calling, and I wish I could stop, but…” your voice pauses over the speakerphone and you swallow thickly. Your mouth is at once both dry and your throat wet with phlegm from crying and you resist the urge to sniffle, and make it obvious to him that you’re crying. But it’s moot at this point, isn’t it? You’re calling in the middle of the night, out of the blue, and it’s been months by now, and it’s obvious by the wobbling timbre of your voice that you’re not okay. 
Never okay. You don’t think you’ll ever be okay. Breathing in deeply and pulling your legs to your chest, you let yourself sigh carefully to prevent a sob. 
“I just… I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m reaching out to you again.”
There’s no answer from the other line, and there probably won’t be, and you let that realization hit you for the hundredth time in the past two weeks since the love you’ve been trying to stonewall came crashing right back into your heart and left it back in disarray, with you far too unequipped to pick up the pieces. Your hand runs through your hair anxiously and then your thumb goes to your mouth as you bite your nails.
You probably look a mess and you’re thankful he can’t see you. Tonight was a particularly bad night, where you’ve succumbed to your destructive tendencies and left your room a mess, and now have to sit in the center, clothes thrown haphazardly and papers, pictures,old gifts, torn up posters strewn all around the floor. 
“I’m just sick of seeing you everywhere.”
That’s not something you can help, and even he can’t help it. You’ll have to live with that. The fact that he remains in the world not loving you and you remain in the world unable to move on. 
“But I didn’t call today to argue with you yet again… I just… I just wish things had ended differently.”
Everything comes to an end and no one has infinite patience, no matter what they claim. 
You bite your lip. You’re not saying anything groundbreaking; anyone with a brain would think that. You ended things horribly; difficult to make happy, combative, argumentative, demanding, closed off, just plain mean to someone who only wanted to love you. 
If you could have released him without swiping at him, without wounds and scars a better person would have to soothe, perhaps you’d be a better person. 
But you’re not. 
“I wish I had appreciated you. Had known what to do with a love like yours.”
Rather than holding it so jealously you crushed it between your fingertips.
You take in a deep breath, and say it, once again, straight from your heart.
“I miss you.”
Someone who’s tasted kindness and freedom will never go back into bondage, no matter how much they love you. 
You should correct that. You miss being loved by him, you miss being adored, you miss taking and taking and taking from someone who seemed to have limitless capacity to care.
But you don’t. After all, you’re the type to gorge yourself full when given the opportunity; eat as though tomorrow doesn’t exist.
“I wish I was different. Better to you.”
Your feet are suddenly freezing and you tuck them under you - in another world, he’d have even warmed your feet, massaged them and smiled, found you socks he bought himself and slipped them on with a reminder to treat yourself better. 
To treat yourself well.
But you don’t know how to treat anyone well, not even yourself.
“I know I ruin everything good eventually, and I wish I hadn’t tried to ruin you too.”
Your chest is starting to ache again.
“I’m sorry.”
Tears come to your eyes for a moment and you can’t help but let out a sound as you try to blink them back before praying the receiver doesn’t pick up that pathetic sound. 
“I’m sorry I’m so bold as to wish for you to come back.”
You raised your white flag just a little too late, turned around to see him no longer walking behind you, following you home like a loyal dog instead of trying desperately to reach into the abyss with no end that is your sorry excuse for a soul.
“I’m sorry I still love you.”
As if a warning from above to shut the fuck up, you sob and swallow wrong, choking on your own saliva. Hanging up as you try to recover your breath, you find yourself transitioning into a cry that doesn’t end until you’ve fallen asleep.
“Did someone call?” she asks. He’s been staring at his phone, laid on the surface of the bathroom sink, for the past 30 minutes, deciding whether or not he should bother listening to this message. He’s listened to every single one before this one, taken every expletive and excuse in stride, and perhaps he shouldn’t endure it again. In fact, by now it’s a mystery why he hasn’t blocked your number yet, but there’s that nagging sensation, the one that’s allowed you to hurt him for this long, that you’re a hurt soul that just wants to be heard, even if it’s not his job to bear the brunt of it every single time. 
But as he looks at the voicemail, he can sense a sort of finality to it. He has the feeling after this one, you won’t call again, and yet. 
“Mm. But it’s late, I’ll deal with it in the morning.”
She smiles and lets her hand rest gently on his cheek. He smiles and turns his head to kiss her palm, then gently lets his fingers close around her wrist to pull her away. 
“Are you coming back to bed?”
She looks pretty in her soft lacey nightgown and even prettier out of it, he thinks for a moment. Of course he’s coming back to her. She’s home, even if he was temporarily lost. 
Nodding, he tells her he’ll be there in a minute and she smiles. Too trusting to even worry about what her love is doing in the middle of the night that’s got him frowning so deeply; too explicitly loved and filled with gratitude to be anxious. 
He sighs once she’s out of view and picks up the phone. 
The voicemail is deleted.
Something inside him seems to rot and wither away, but he doesn’t wince. He takes another look towards the master bedroom where she awaits.
Then he blocks your number and goes back to sleep. 
Should have done it a while ago but late is better than never.
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lilacxquartz · 2 days
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Those Late Summer Nights I Chapter 11
Satoru Gojo × Fem!Reader × Suguru Geto
ABOUT: You moved to Tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. As you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Both you and Satoru have an assigned course together because you’ll be likely working together. Suguru in the meantime struggles to maintain his jealousy.
TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con touching
Previous Chapter.
11. Chemistry
The next day, Suguru tried to do everything right by you under the impression that if he didn’t, that it would all go wrong for him.
He returned you back home to the apartment in one piece, confirming with you at least a dozen times that you understood exactly what happened between the two of you last night.
In truth, you didn’t really know how to feel just yet. The situation still felt forced at best simply due to how intoxicated you were when he started to make a move on you but at the same time, you weren’t sure how to leave such a position.
It wasn’t like he was holding you hostage, but he did keep you on his radar, ensuring that you could never stray too far away from him.
So could you really leave…?
You debated telling Shoko when you were back home, but your heart pitted in your stomach whenever you tried to do so. You hated yourself the whole time that you couldn’t tell her a single thing, hindered by your own… What even was it? Embarrassment? Shame? Disgust?
It must have been everything all at once.
And then finally, a distraction came. Something to help you take your mind off of things; the whole reason that you came here in the first place.
At some point during the next week, you had to attend the campus along with Satoru to go over some type of integral planning as you were both to be overseeing one student in particular that the college believed could be helped better with two role models rather than just the one alone.
Suguru wasn’t particularly thrilled about such a prospect, but he kept his feelings well hidden now that he believed to have established at least something with you and attended the college too, claiming it was for moral support.
You on the other hand didn’t think too much about the work event at all, struggling instead to keep up with Satoru who already left you feeling intimidated in the classroom despite you both being equals, supposedly.
It didn’t help that he enjoyed bragging about his abilities, either, explaining the full extent of his capabilities in extensive detail.
Your own technique paled in comparison and you were acceptable at best in direct combat, as you initially studied to become more so a support sorcerer rather than one that dishes out continuous damage.
Such festering self-doubt left you wondering for a hot second what you were doing here to begin with, but it all quickly subsided when you understood that you were chosen for a reason, so you shouldn’t let it get to you too much.
Your technique wasn’t even that bad to begin with; essentially possessing a shield bubble of sorts that both slowed and reduced damage, protecting anyone within a certain radius. The only kicker was that you had to remain close to the targets, or else the technique would wane.
Your old teacher back in the day encouraged for you to get better at combat, pointing out that it would only further enhance your potential but you never quite got the opportunity to learn such things, so you worked with what you had, happy to talk about it as needed.
Suguru continued to linger by the classroom in his attempted claim of moral support, when in reality he was making sure that Satoru kept things strictly professional.
His looming observation was quickly drawn to a halt however, as Yaga soon requested his attention for something important and it wasn’t as though he could deny the man, so he left for the time being.
By the time he was done however, both you and Satoru were nowhere to be found on the campus and that was a thought that didn’t sit right with him at all.
In the beginning stupor of his own self sabotaging jealousy, he sent to you a text:
“Where are you?”
“Satoru sponsoring after work meal,” was what you replied back with, thinking that it would be fine because it was just a thing between coworkers, especially since you had long moved on from Satoru’s kiss.
You didn’t know why you were entertaining something casual with Suguru though, something as friendly as texting him after what he had done to you. Guiltily your mind kept drifting back to what he kept telling you, feeling some sort of unwanted comfort after what he forced on you.
Why did you feel that way…?
Suguru meanwhile stirred at that response because you didn’t know Satoru the same way as he did; you didn’t know that he used to serial date and would often talk about who he picked up, how he picked them up—you hadn’t the faintest clue what Satoru was actually capable of which was precisely what he tried so hard to keep you far away from.
Of course this all had to happen when he was genuinely interested in someone for a change, feeling his resentment boil and bubble away.
Choosing to trust you despite disliking the situation, he left it at something passive aggressive instead:
“Where?” he texted back after a moment.
With no response, he sent something again, “Is your phone on silent again?”
Suguru stared blankly at the screen with no incoming responses, but tried to trust you in the end. As far as you were both aware, you were involved with him, so maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Have fun,” he finally settled on, ending on a passive aggressive text.
It wasn’t as though he wanted for you to have a bad time, but…
He also wasn’t happy that you never at least let him know, feeling entitled to every single thing that you did, unsure as to why he even felt that way.
In the meanwhile, you remained blissfully unaware as you finished up the contents of your meal, hoping for it to keep you full for long. You wanted to avoid cooking tonight if you could help it, needing a dire recharge after today as well as what had been happening for weeks prior.
Satoru walked you back home after, trying to keep his arm wrapped around your waist to which you moved away from—feeling a little conflicted as you still had that other thing going on.
You didn’t understand if you were now involved with Suguru or not, but regardless, it felt strange to give into even what could have been platonic touch from Satoru because of how messy it all was. You didn’t want for something like that to repeat again with someone else, so you attempted to reject as many times as you had to—to at least get the message across.
Satoru retracted his hand, feeling annoyed for a change but he couldn’t quite figure out why. It all started going wrong for him from the moment he saw Suguru interact with you when you were back home at Shoko’s.
He wasn’t the jealous type at all, but just like Suguru, just like you, he felt confused.
So when he returned his hand around your shoulder this time, to a safe and friendly location, only for you to push him away, he lost it just a little.
“Really?” he asked, his mask slipping off just a little so that you could see the fire behind his otherwise serene blue eyes.
“I-I just don’t really like being touched like that,” you replied, continuing to attempt the effort of setting boundaries.
The entire reason you got into the whole other mess was because you didn’t set up enough of those to begin with.
Satoru sulked a little as he tanked the rejection, feeling his pride take a hit as well. He wanted to point out to you that Suguru had been getting very touchy with you lately but you hadn’t been complaining about that at all, but that’s when he finally made the connection that you two must have been closer than he had originally thought.
Staying silent for a moment longer, he quickly pieced everything together as he understood why both of you were acting so weird lately.
As such, he extracted one final response from you, moving his hand around your back as he then studied your reaction to his touch next.
“Stop,” you replied, your voice a lot firmer.
“Ah, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Satoru replied as he feigned a smile again; a strained laugh escaping through his lips, as though he wasn’t bothered at all, “I’m just so used to doing this with everyone, I didn’t even think it was making you uncomfortable.”
You didn’t want to make this a whole big deal so you tried to be reasonable within your response too.
“It’s… okay,” you replied in a drawn out way, however, not quite buying his excuse.
You learned that over the past month or so exactly what type of person he was, so you were quickly growing cautious around him as well as people like him. Men who were a little too friendly, a little too flirty. You could trust him to keep a dark secret, but you couldn’t quite trust him to respect your boundaries all the way.
“Look, I’m sorry, [name],” he said as he kept his hands to himself now, “I need to be somewhere else anyway, so I’ll let you go back by yourself now, you’ll be fine right?”
“I-I think so…?” you replied, looking over at the road ahead, it was empty where you were but the streets were for the most part lit up, except in some areas.
It was quite late by now but you were certain that you would be alright. Your apartment wasn’t too far away from this street and it was a relatively short walk away.
You walked down the remainder of the road in silence, taking your phone out to consider texting back Suguru’s vague message but you weren’t really sure how to do so.
You sighed as you pocketed it for now, feeling assured by the building standing tall in the near distance. Soon enough you’d be back in bed and you’d be fast asleep, so maybe you could think about all of this with more clarity if you were in a better state of mind.
As you found yourself lost deep in your thoughts however, you didn’t have time realise nor even react to someone sneaking up right behind you and pushing your chest right against the wall of a nearby alley way, so poorly lit and off to the side in the dead of night.
You tried to move back just a little but your back was so tightly pressed against this person that you couldn’t move nor turn a single inch. It was dim and you couldn’t quite see who it was, your remaining senses clinging onto the smell of a distinctive cologne.
They were stronger than you, you could tell that much. They also had quicker reflexes than you, not giving you enough wiggle room to readjust yourself as you had so desperately wanted to do so.
The man’s hands roamed around your neck to keep your head turned against the wall, the other hand retreating slowly as it worked its way down to your hip, slipping right below the fabric of your top and copping a feel of your breasts.
You froze as this happened for a moment before trying to put up a further fight. You managed to annoy the person in question in doing so as he promptly reacted by slamming the front of your body against the wall as your body soaked up the remainder of the damage.
It was then that you could hear a whispered ‘oops’ slip out. It sounded almost familiar, but your fear was clouding all reason.
This sort of hold on your body went on for more than you liked, the man’s hands brushing against your body with just a little more care now. His knee moved in between your legs as he kept you in place with his thigh, his face moving in closer to where your neck and shoulders met.
You could feel as this quickly excited him, a certain region of him growing harder as he pressed up against your body. His hands continued to explore you and just as he got even a little bit further, he pulled away.
“Next time, I’m not letting you go,” he whispered as he trailed off.
You couldn’t quite move your body but he slowly dislodged himself from the tight hold he had you in, taking a step away and leaving you alone as his footsteps quickly disappeared down the road.
By the time you turned around, he was already gone and you were alone.
Your mind fully went blank as you walked yourself back home on autopilot, barely noticing that there was anyone in the living room just hanging out casually. Shoko and Suguru both watched some type of reality show on the television but you barely had any time to register either of them.
Instead, you dropped your bag at the door and very calmly took your shoes off at the entrance, walking quietly into the bathroom. Flipping on the lights, you could see that your face looked to be in a pretty rough state; your lip was busted, your cheeks were raw and bleeding with dust from the brick wall hanging near your eyelashes and brows.
Not to mention the state of your outfit, slightly torn and not sitting right on your body.
You were starting to feel violently ill as you started to process what almost happened to you and also what did happen to you.
In realisation of this, you locked the door to the bathroom as you simply just needed some time to figure this all out. You ran the water from the faucet and washed your face up as much as you could, but it didn’t quite hide the damage.
The knock that followed on the door didn’t help your situation either.
You didn’t want to be seen in this kind of way.
You could hear some sort of squabbling behind the door, some shuffling and finally silence that followed.
“Just, let me do the talking,” you could finally make out. It sounded like Shoko’s voice.
You talked yourself into opening up the door and facing them sooner than never, just to simply get this all over with.
As soon as Shoko took even one look at you, she stepped right past you in complete silence to get the first aid kit from the bathroom. The damage seemed minimal enough thankfully that she didn’t have to use her technique, but she still felt that she needed to treat you.
Suguru in the meantime stared at your face as something snapped internally within him. He wanted to ask you about it but he also didn’t want to upset you, knowing just how you were about… anything really.
The last person he left you with was Satoru, but he confirmed with him that he was on his way home leaving you nearby outside of the apartment.
(Unless…?)
He stayed silent as Shoko treated you; washing up your face a little better and disinfecting what needed to be. He also noticed that your body looked roughed up and that your clothes didn’t sit quite right on your frame and to put it lightly, he didn’t like this particular feeling that he was feeling right now.
“What happened?” he finally ended up asking as soon as you seemed just a little calmer. He wasn’t going to press you in front of Shoko even if he did want to know more.
“I, uh,” you replied blankly as you stared right past him, clearing your throat as you tried to explain it properly, “I was almost back but someone dragged me into the alley across the street.”
Both of them could take a wild guess at what followed and Shoko remained quiet, knowing that this might be a sensitive topic. She would have usually replied asking if you kicked the guy where it hurt, but something felt more serious about this situation.
Suguru on the other hand couldn’t quite shake off a certain suspicion out of his mind. The timing was too perfect and it bothered him. He was feeling some responsibility for what had happened and felt some degree of possessiveness that he couldn’t quite explain as his mind spiralled at the thought of you being touched by someone else—even if it wasn’t your fault.
He hated himself for thinking this way.
“Did you see what he looked like?” he asked you, allowing to spare the intricate details of what exactly the person did, he would get those later, one way or another.
“He wouldn’t let me get a look at him,” you said as you shook your head in response, Shoko trying her best to keep your chin in place as she treated you.
“Anything else that might hurt?” she asked you.
“My shoulder—collarbone area,” you said as you felt soreness radiate from that particular area, “my chest… too.”
“Can I take a look?”
“Go ahead.”
She considered asking Suguru to step outside for a moment but you didn’t seem that uncomfortable with him being there (in your mind, you simply just didn’t see how it could all get worse and you blanked), so she guessed that something must have gone on between the two of you at some point. She didn’t really care as it wasn’t her place to pry, she only teased you about Satoru because it was so obvious with what he tried to do.
She did however make sure that you were wearing a camisole or some type of bra underneath before proceeding onwards just in case Satoru came in through the door or something. Had you worn nothing below your clothes, she would have worked around it.
Your clavicle area and your shoulders were indeed bruised with some red hand marks that could be seen around the top exposed area of your breasts, leading down into the cup of your bra. Towards your stomach, some bruising was also visible.
“Can you get a towel and a bag of something from the freezer?” she instructed Suguru, noticing his tense expression.
He nodded along, stepping quickly into the bathroom to grab a random towel and then off into the kitchen area to grab a bag of frozen vegetables, wrapping the towel tight around it before giving it back to Shoko.
She pressed the cold towel around the more serious looking bruises, moving your hands to keep the pack in place.
Suguru was boiling away as this all unfolded, not really saying anything anything just yet. It took him a lot of self restraint to not say or do something he shouldn’t in front of Shoko, but both his jealousy as well as his guilt was starting to reach an apex.
He partially blamed Satoru for this because it happened not too long after he left, if he even left at all. Besides that, he should have been less petty with the text he sent you and made more of an effort to retrieve you because if he caught up to you, then this wouldn’t have happened.
“Are you okay?” Shoko asked after a while now that everything looked to be in order with you.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess…” you replied, your words trailing off, “I mean nothing actually ended up happening but the idea that I wasn’t able to do anything at all is messing me up.”
“It shouldn’t have happened at all, in either way or form,” Shoko continued to validate you, “but, you’re also safe here now and we’ll do our best to make you feel that way, right?”
“Right,” Suguru nodded along, feeling a little intimidated from Shoko’s glare. She was right, he should be making you feel safe now that you were away from the attacker, but something within him also stirred that shouldn’t.
It felt almost like an insult, as if it was bad karma for trying to take things too slowly with you.
Something in his mind permanently changed beyond at that point, he knew that he had to do something to change this.
He knew that he had to make you rightfully his, because he’s not going to share.
Not this time.
Not ever.
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khaotunq · 1 year
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dnangelic · 3 months
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pity for dark-risa fans but hey at least anybody can soothe themselves for the narrative itself/daisuke with the knowledge that dark not only started off liking riku but also still steadfastly likes riku in the light novels and hell even when daisuke turns into dark in front of riku for the manga finale he conjugates his 'it's no good if it's not riku' in a way that dark also would, aka a way that would be worthy of an eng translation goth font just like his random 'i've gotta stop him!!' dark vc jumpscare in azumanoland arc. dark-daisuke merge haters forced to seethe when daisuke actually accepts ('becomes') dark as himself and dark likewise completely becomes daisuke. goodnight
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medicinemane · 2 months
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The problem with people who are "right" because they insist they're right, and the only way to be right is to simply perfectly follow their every dictation on the subject unquestioningly is this...
Ok, let's just take it as a given that you're right... the problem here is that if that's what's right I'm afraid I have to dig my heels into being wrong. If you are as righteous and just as you insist you are then I've got no choice but to be the villain because I can't stand what you're saying I'd have to do to be good
Shockingly I even think it's wrong, which is odd because we've already defined it that you're inherently and unassailably right... yet here we are
Worst part is there's a lot of these things where I'm not even full stop against it, I actually might be on their side if they could stop and address a couple of issues I consider kind of important... but they won't, because they're morally right and don't have time for addressing nonexistent issues I'm clearly just dreaming up
Undoubtedly right they are, the defect must surely be my own... and yet here we are. Vile and wicked as it might make me, I still can't just go along with you
#mm tag so i can find things later#and whatever you think this is about and however you've already decided it agrees with you#I'll say this is about like... minimum 2 topics at very different points in the political spectrum... and probably like 20 easy#so like... it may well be talking about your own behavior on certain subjects#I'm talking about not even being willing to entertain good faith questions#and especially about labeling anyone who doesn't tow your exact party line a horrible person#...the amount of shit where it's like 'you know I actually agree with you... except for this one major sticking point'#'just tell me how we deal with this one pretty big thing and I'm fully on board' and... well actually you're terrible for that#or the amount of places where it's like I agree with your goals; but not your methods but... I don't think arguing would do a damn thing#you've already dug your heels in so deep and maybe you're even right to do it.. but I'll never go along with it no matter what that makes m#and the number of overall good people I know who this post is honestly about#they may well be far better than I am; I've never claimed to be good; quite the opposite#and yet I'm afraid I have to say that... to me you're wrong; wrong in concrete ways#maybe you could even address my concerns and help me see with my stupid brain why these aren't issues... but you won't#because you're right; and you know you're right; and so you'll never be wrong#and this isn't just some idle whataboutism... or maybe it is; I'll never say I'm the moral arbiter; again I could be wickedly wrong#and there's a variety of reasons someone believes what they believe; but... there's often blind dogma at the end#I may be stupid; but I can usually draw a line from my stance to something in the world#maybe it's a stupid nonsense line and I don't see my mental gymnastics... very well could be#but I can draw a line... it's not just circular logic; it's not just bouncing between two points#and I often can actually point to places I'm not happy with how things are or will be... we live in the real world and that sucks#example that... man it's more politically charged than I like getting; but ok#I really want this Ukrainian aid to pass even though I don't like the Israeli aid attached... but I get that's the only way it's passing#I want the Ukraine aid because I see residential houses getting stuck by missiles; but I don't want the Israeli aid for the same reason#and it comes down to that I think that the aid amount is sufficiently higher to Ukraine to make it enough of a net positive#I could be wrong... but you can at least see my work; I'm coming at it from a perspective of bombing civilians is wrong#I could be stupid; I could point to two people I know on here who would tell me I'm stupid for at least one part of this... probably all#yet there it is... and... it'll be hard to convince me otherwise
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wild-at-mind · 7 months
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Seeing some posts on my dash that are kind of in the wheelhouse of the stuff I was just posting about. I really like their posts normally and I don't want to unfollow but :/.
#it's a certian kind of rhetoric#like honestly i don't talk about this but i got kind of a bit...radicalised into some antisemitic beliefs at one point in about 2016#because i didn't know what i was talking about or understand how antisemitism works#a lot of this makes me think of a horrible murder case in the uk that caused an outpourting of right wing radicalisation#lee rigby was a white soldier who was off-duty when he was attacked and killed by two British Nigerians who claimed#to be avenging Muslims kill by the British army.#i mention this because it's long enough ago to not be super fresh and raw in people's minds#and because it makes me think many things at once and none of them contradict each other.#1. this murder was from day 1 basically tailor-made to incite far right hatred and that is terrifying to all Muslims in Britain#and all black Brits too.#2. Lee was a human being and did not deserve to die#3. a lot of the valorising of Lee as a person focuses on his position in the army fighting for queen and country and help for our heroes#and as someone who does not like the armed forces and is anti-war i find this rhetoric troubling and likely to become very jingoistic#4. Lee's mother had to go to the press MULTIPLE TIMES asking people to please please PLEASE not taint the memory of her beloved son#by using what happened to him to incite hatred of Muslims even more than what was already happening in the UK at that time#Ok list over now with all of that do you think that anyone at all who claimed that Lee's attack was some kind of justified revenge#would have been helping the cause of Muslims at all? ESPECIALLY if it came from a white British non-Muslim lefty type??#If you said this do you think a Muslim terrified of being attacked in 'revenge' for Lee would have cheered you on?#Or would they have wanted you to stop deliberately making tensions worse??#ETA i realised i never returned to the point about me being radicalised- i had to do better and i hope i have fully moved away from that.#the thing is saying that it's wrong for you to be asked to mourn for the terrorism victims in Israel is kinda right#for the same reason no one should have been forced to perform grief for lee rigby to seem virtuous#but also it's your duty especially if you are someone without any ties to Israel or Palestine#to not make tensions worse at a time when they are incredibly inflamed already
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cosmosis · 1 year
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based on this image from @fr3akingtf0utrn
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - office life
how miguel o’hara slowly makes you fall for him check out my miguel o’hara masterlist here!
Miguel O’Hara doesn’t fall in love with just anyone.
But... every time he sees you around the office, his hands almost inch towards you like a moth would a light. Something ignites in him that he can’t explain, but he can’t help but want so much more of you. 
He likes to give you bagels and coffee during your breaks. (haha) Your work almost seems to magically disappear, and you’re a lot of the time left to finish up the easy stuff. Somehow, he’s even managed to sit with you for lunch, the rest of the spider-people in the cafeteria staring at the two of you while you eat. 
The entire building, all of the spider-people seem to know the happenings between you and Miguel, and they love it. It’s become somewhat a staple gossip within the workplace.  
Anyone bold enough would pass by Miguel in the hallways and say, “We’re rootin for you, boss!” In which Miguel wouldn’t know how to feel, whether it’d be angry or happy. 
As of now, the two of you have been flirting around, evidently more than just coworkers. He’s yours, and you are his. To you, though, he’s the absolute sweetest. He takes work off your plate, he’s kind, and he adores you. 
You’ve noticed Miguel getting a bit touchy lately, which you aren’t necessarily complaining about. Whether it’d be on your arm, a gentle hand on your neck to guide you through a crowd, or just being generally close to you, Miguel has been making his advances on you after Lyla spilled how it should be fine to do. 
His touch makes you shiver a little; he’s extra warm and so very gentle. You almost always lean into his touch, and Miguel loves it too, he just doesn’t admit it upfront. 
“You did great today, Miguel.“ You say. 
Both you and Miguel just headed back to Nueva York from a mission, taking out another stray anomaly that wouldn’t come without a fight.
 Miguel’s stomach flutters a little. Rarely, he ever gets praised by anyone. He’s the boss, the CEO; most of the time, he feels like it’s expected of him to do the best job. But, praise tastes much more sweeter when it comes from you. 
“You did well yourself, sweetie.“
Miguel’s mask dissolves away, leaving behind his pretty face. You don’t think you’d ever get tired of it. He gives you this look of adoration, one that the rest of the office has never, ever seen in person. 
You’re in Miguel’s office, well, more like your shared office. Miguel insisted that you’d move into his office, claiming, “I don’t want to go through the entire building just to find you for something.” which is code for, “I can’t live a day without being near you.” 
So now, you have your own desk and work area. You’re both alone, no one to bother, (except maybe Lyla, but she knows better.)
You’re at your desk, and Miguel steps up behind you. His big hand slithers to your lower back, running his fingers against the curve of your spine. He’s warm, you can still feel the heat radiating off of him from the previous mission. 
You feel him lean in, discreetly nosing his face into the top of your head. You lean in back, bumping your upper back into his chest. 
“Is this okay?“ Miguel mumbles, serious heat trailing up to his neck and ears. 
You nod. “Yes.”
And it was sealed from there. 
Now, Miguel rubs your back too often. His hand fits into place with your back like a puzzle piece, Miguel always finding some kind of way to lay his hand where it belongs. You love it. 
In the office? Yes.
During lunch? Yes.
Even on missions, he pulls you by your lower back to usher you away from a hit, and you both play around with that. He’s all fun and games when on missions, flirting, teasing, kissing. 
Now, it almost feels wrong when he isn’t touching you. 
. . .
“Hey, girl, look at this!“ 
Lyla pops in, automatically pulling up an internet article on your desk screen. It’s a web article; “The Science Behind Courtship in Male Spiders”
“Lyla, what does this have to do with anything?“ You ask.
Instead, she just scrolls into the article, highlighting a quote; male spiders give “back rubs” to seduce their mates. 
You raise your eyebrow. 
“You wanna know why Miguel’s been rubbing you so much? It’s cause of that!“ Lyla exclaims, as if she’s discovered this new scientific theory. 
“I guess you’re kinda right on that.“ You mutter. But, the more you start to think about it, the more it makes sense.  
Now every time Miguel palms your back, you think about the article. 
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© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
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dramaticals · 6 months
Text
following instructions
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pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader
summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.
author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader
✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧
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Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.
Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.
"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.
"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.
Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.
"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."
There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.
"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.
"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.
"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.
In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.
Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.
"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"
"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."
"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.
You roll your eyes. Curse him.
Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.
Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.
Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"
As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.
"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."
"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."
Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.
"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"
"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.
"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.
Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.
"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.
Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.
Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.
"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."
Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.
With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."
The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.
You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.
"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.
"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"
"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.
You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.
You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.
"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.
Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.
"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.
The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.
Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.
"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.
It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.
"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.
There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.
"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."
Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.
"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."
Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.
"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.
Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.
"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.
You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.
"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."
Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.
"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.
You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.
"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"
You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.
"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.
"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."
The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.
"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.
Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.
Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.
"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."
"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.
"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."
So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.
By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"
You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.
You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.
Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.
"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"
"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.
At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.
Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.
"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.
Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.
"Shit," Theo groans.
"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.
"God, shut up."
Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.
Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.
While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.
"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.
His impatience makes you smirk.
"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."
"You know I don't give a shit about rules."
"Too bad."
This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.
"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.
This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."
Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.
"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.
Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.
"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.
You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.
"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."
"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"
You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"
This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.
To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.
"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.
You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.
"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.
"Then you know what I want to hear."
He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.
"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."
"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."
Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.
"That's my good girl."
Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.
"Oh, God, yes, Theo."
His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.
Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.
"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"
His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.
"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.
The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.
"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."
With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.
3K notes · View notes
inkedbybarnes · 2 months
Text
unclear
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
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the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
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you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
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your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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Text
Sugar
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best friend!san x fem reader
Trigger warnings: none that i can think of
Content warnings: names (sweetheart, baby, sugar), oral (m&f receiving), choking (briefly), breeding, dacryphilia (kinda?), san’s got a big dick (what else is new) and is down horrendous for mc.
Summary: your best friend just can’t keep his hands to himself
Word count: 5.7k
A/N: hey babes! i finally finished it!!! its unpolished as fuck but it’s done!!! it’s only taken me forty-seven years 🥴 not saying this is a full comeback as i’m still dealing with some personal shit but i hope i’ll have something else for you relatively soon. anyways, pls reblog if you enjoy the story!! 🥰🫶🏻
Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8
Smut below the cut
Most likely to remain high school sweethearts. That’s the yearbook superlative you and your best friend had been awarded your senior year of high school. The kicker? You had never dated him. The thought had just never crossed your mind. You were content being the hot best friends that everyone either wanted to get with or wanted to be. He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.
Choi San had harbored the biggest crush on you since the two of you were fifteen. He’d gone through a hard breakup back then, his ex spreading rumors and lies all through school, and despite claiming he was fine because he was a player, he was heartbroken. He had been in love with the girl and she’d broken his heart and tried to ruin his reputation. So when you comforted him and confronted his ex, which ended in a cat fight in the hallway that got both of you suspended, he began to fixate on you. He dated around to keep his mind busy and off you, but he was infatuated with his best friend. With the girl who would throw down with anyone who wronged him.
He’d been heartbroken when he found out you were going away for college instead of staying local, even more so when he realized the school you’d chosen didn’t have the major he wanted. He was distraught at first, thinking you’d be too far apart to visit often. Every school he looked at seemed so far away from yours until he found the school where he was currently enrolled. This one was only an hour drive away from you and he was relieved to find that your schedule at your part time job still allowed for you two to take turns visiting each other every weekend.
You were oblivious to his feelings. You often noticed how he had trouble sleeping at your apartment but whenever you asked, he claimed he’d developed insomnia. He hadn’t, he just couldn’t sleep because of the thoughts that filled his mind from knowing you were in the next room. He felt guilty to be honest. He was constantly having dirty thoughts that normal people didn’t have about their best friend. Your mere presence reduced him to little more than a giddy, horny teenager.
You also noticed that he became more clingy after the two of you left for college but you never addressed that. He was always an affectionate person and adjusting to college life was definitely hard, so you figured it was probably that. That was part of it. But really, he just missed you. It was that simple. He missed his best friend and his heart leapt every time you opened your door or he opened his. Seeing your face made everything so much better.
Today was no different. He lit up like a neon sign when your door swung open to reveal you in a cropped white hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants, a bright smile on your face. “Sannie!” You held your arms open and he immediately stepped inside, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. Everything that had been bothering him up until that moment melted away as you hugged him, your grip tightening right before you stepped back. Oh how he loved your hugs.
You led him inside and motioned for him to sit on the sofa as you grabbed the bag of goodies you’d bought the night before. “I got your favorites.” You grinned as you rejoined him, opening the bag to show him the snacks, sodas, and alcohol you’d purchased. “Oh, also, my roommate is staying with her boyfriend this weekend so you can yell at the tv all you want, we don’t have to be quiet.”
He managed to conceal the excitement he felt at your words, knowing you didn’t mean what he was thinking. “Noted.” He hummed as he settled in. “Are we picking back up where we left off on that anime?”
“We can. I think we can finish the next season if we stay glued to the couch all weekend.” You hummed as you began to stage the snacks on the coffee table, only then realizing you’d forgotten glasses for the alcohol. “We can watch something else if you don’t want to watch that though. I’ve got some other streaming services if you wanna watch a drama.” You shrugged as you got up, heading to the kitchenette.
When you came back, he was sprawled out on your couch. His arms were resting on the back and he had the full man spread going on. He kind of resembled a starfish like that and you rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. You froze when he let out a low groan as he stretched, throwing his head back. Suddenly, images of you getting him off flashed in your mind. “Let’s watch that. We can watch a drama next weekend.”
You cleared your throat a bit and nodded as you recovered. “Okie dokie.” You singsonged as you joined him, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat but still leaving enough space that you didn’t have those thoughts again. Where the fuck had that come from? You grabbed one of the bags of chips and settled in, his arm sliding down from the back of the couch to rest on your shoulders as you pulled up the show.
The episode started and you opened the bag, offering it up to San, who shook his head. “I’m good right now, sugar.” You shrugged and leaned into him, pulling your legs up underneath you. He tensed when he realized he’d called you something he’d only imagined calling you but you didn’t seem to mind so he forced himself to relax.
What you didn’t address was the surge of arousal that flooded your body. You were a bitch for pet names and he knew that. You weren’t sure why you were turned on by his words, though. It was San. Sure he was beautiful but he had never affected you like this before. Clearly it had been too long since the last time you’d slept with someone.
Your eyes locked on the screen and you focused solely on that for four episodes before you became aware of the ache in your joints. You’d managed to sit perfectly still for two hours straight and now your body was screaming at you to move. You gently shrugged San’s arm off your shoulders and stood as the fifth episode began, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as you stretched your muscles and cracked every joint you could.
The sound of your voice caught San’s attention and his eyes locked on the exposed portion of your back, wondering what it would feel like to press kisses there. Should I try and find out? Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you even think about that? Fucking dumbass. He shook his head and let out a sigh just as you turned to ask him if he needed anything from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly, noticing how irritated and distressed he looked.
“Huh?” His head snapped up and his jaw dropped slightly before he recovered. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He gave you a warm smile and you responded with a confused but playful wrinkle of your nose before heading off to grab a water. That was fucking close.
You opened the bottle and took a big gulp as you reentered the room, finding him sitting up properly now. He patted the spot next to him and you plopped down beside him, leaning back into his side, this time with your back to him. You brought your feet back up on the couch and took his hand, guiding his arm around your neck in a hug and tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.
As you once again became enthralled with the show, his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the side of your neck. You shuddered at his touch every few minutes but didn’t register any of it as you focused on the tv. You whined a little when he moved his arm back to the back of the sofa but didn’t protest further, too invested in the show to care too much. You shifted to rest your head on San’s lap, grabbing one of the throw pillows to lay on.
With you stretched out like this, San was struggling to focus on the show. He was fixated on your exposed belly and began to discreetly drop his arm off the back of the couch towards your waist. He bit his lip as his hand made contact with your warm flesh, trying to appear focused on the show like you. You glanced up at him and took a moment to admire the view of his jawline before poking his chin. He looked startled and almost guilty when his gaze met yours. “What’s up with you today?” You asked in a teasing tone. “You seem extra cuddly and touchy-feely.”
“What, I can’t be touchy-feely with my best friend?” He grinned down at you and something in you shifted. “I just missed you. We used to see each other every day and for the last two years we’ve only been able to see each other on weekends.”
“Simpler times.” You sighed and turned your attention back to the screen, not bothering to move his hand. It felt nice.
He was surprised that you hadn’t swatted him away but he certainly wasn’t about to complain when you were delicately tracing shapes on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding and he was thankful you hadn’t continued with that line of questioning because he wasn’t sure if he could form a coherent sentence at this point. He should’ve known better than to start to get comfortable though. The second his hand wandered a bit higher, you grabbed his wrist and he froze. Fuck.
“That’s more than touchy-feely, San, that was almost my titty.” You didn’t appear to move your attention from the tv but all you could think about was just how close his hand was to your chest. What had gotten into him? And why were you so affected by his touch? You were just friends…right?
“Oh…sorry.” He mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant despite his internal panic. You didn’t buy it though and looked up at him again, taking note of his flaming cheeks. Cute.
“Seriously, San, what’s actually going on with you?” You hated how harsh your voice came out. You hated the way he flinched at your words. You weren’t trying to scold him, you wanted to put out feelers.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and refused to look at you. You thought for a moment before biting your lip. You clearly didn’t buy it and wanted to ask if he was thinking what you were so suddenly thinking. You were about to speak up when he continued. “I’m just tired. Come cuddle.” He opened his arms.
“Tired already?” He nodded. “Must suck to be any woman you fuck.” You snorted.
“I’ll have you know I have excellent stamina, thank you.” He fired back instantly and you laughed. There he was.
“I’ll believe it when I see it, gramps.”
“Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” You were almost taken aback at his tone, as you’d only heard him use it when he was actively trying to bed someone.
“San-” He just laughed and shook his head as if to assure you he was only teasing. Somehow that bothered you more. Desire had already begun to pool between your legs. You gave a little huff and released his wrist, which you’d been holding this whole time, abruptly sitting up as you swatted his hand away. You turned to look at him as the pillow you’d been resting on toppled from his lap, exposing the semi he was rocking. So he actually did want you. “Yeah, actually, it is.” He sat in stunned silence and you bit the inside of your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, only speaking once you had successfully concealed your grin. “What? Did you think I’d get flustered and back off?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, your tone almost mocking.
“Yeah, kin-”
“Cute.” You cut him off and placed a hand on his thigh as you leaned towards him, your gaze flicking towards his lips for a brief moment before lifting back to his eyes, which still refused to actually look at you. “Tell me, Sannie, how long did it take you to work up the courage to try and feel me up?”
“I wasn’t-”
“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes, your hand trailing a bit higher on his thigh as your voice dipped a bit. “You’re already half hard, clearly you were trying to get something out of me.” He squirmed at both your words and your touch, suddenly trying to squeeze his thighs together as he avoided eye contact in favor of staring at your hand, which he felt was far too close to his crotch for him to properly think.
He didn’t get a chance to respond before you spoke up again. “It’s never crossed my mind before, but now that I’m thinking about it, there’s so many things I could do to you, Sannie.” You whispered as you moved your hand away from the swell in his gray sweats and moved to straddle his lap. “What do you think? Should I?” You rolled your hips, grinding against his hard on, and he nodded far too quickly for his liking.
“Please do…” He whispered back, finally meeting your eyes. “Anything you want. ‘M all yours.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to the current moment but you weren’t in any state to be asking for clarification.
You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the ramifications of fucking your best friend but you would have to deal with that later. The ache between your legs required immediate attention. You carded your fingers through his hair before turning your hand into a fist and tugging his head back. Your other hand rested on his neck as you caught his lips in a demanding kiss. The whimper that slipped past his lips went straight to your pussy and you shivered, leaning into his touch when his hands moved to your ass.
He was short circuiting. He was finally getting the chance to touch you and you weren’t pushing him away. In fact, you were the one initiating it. He licked over your bottom lip but you refused him entry, taking the chance to nibble on his lip instead. He gasped against your lips and you smirked, subconsciously tightening your grip on his hair.
“I never pegged you as the submissive type, Sannie.” You teased and he frowned against your lips, clearly pouting. Despite being a switch, he was more dominant than submissive. He was just following your lead because he’d dreamt about this for ages and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to you. I’ve been told I’m almost too gentle.”
He whined at your ribbing and you chuckled softly as you pulled back, moving to sit on the floor between his legs. His eyes followed your every movement. You sat on your knees and pushed his oversized tee up a bit to admire his toned stomach before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his now-fully-hard cock springing free and slapping against his belly. “No underwear? Must’ve been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”
“No, actually. I just rarely wear them.” He rolled his eyes and you made a face. He seemed to be getting bolder and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You were having fun with him. If he decided to take over…well, you doubted that would happen but you might have a brat on your hands.
You didn’t respond, just finished pulling his pants to his ankles, took his dick in your hand, and licked the head. His head tipped back as he let out a surprisingly deep groan and your previous visions came rushing back to you. He looked and sounded just as pretty as you imagined when you took him in your mouth.
“Holy fucking shit, y/n…” He groaned, one hand moving to rest on his belly, holding his shirt up while the other curled into a fist on the sofa. You hummed at his reaction and continued, taking him as far as you could manage. You gagged a little around him and he hissed, his hips jerking a fraction of an inch before he could stop himself. “S-sorry. ‘M sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to.”
You giggled softly at his apology and he bit his lip, looking down at you. You bobbed your head as your gaze met his and he damn near lost his mind. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. He wanted the image burned in his memory for the rest of his life. Who knew when or if he’d get the chance to do this again?
Given how you responded to his accidentally fucking your face, he decided to experimentally roll his hips. He almost met God when the tip slipped down your throat and you gagged around him, swallowing harshly as you tried but failed to relax your throat. You’d never deepthroated before and it showed as you tried to recover, tears filling your eyes and quickly overflowing to your cheeks. He gently pulled you off and wiped your cheeks, cooing at you as you coughed. “Breathe for me, sugar.” You nodded and took a deep breath, letting him dry your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to do that. Are you okay?”
You nodded again and offered a small smile. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna go full send and hurt you or-”
“I’m fine, Sannie. I promise.” He finally nodded after a few beats of silence and you tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him for a moment. “Now, what’s with the name? You said it earlier too.”
He looked panicked at first before a grin crept onto his face. “Well, I would call you honey since you’re so sweet, but I feel like that’s a bit overdone, don’t you agree?” You shrugged in agreement and he leaned down, taking your jaw in his hand and jerking you closer. He was a breath away and you were going haywire. “I wonder if your personality is all that’s sweet.”
“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, surprising both of you at just how quickly you’d folded with a single rough touch. So much for him not taking over.
“I wanna taste you, y/n.” He moved to whisper in your ear and your breath hitched. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated his words by kissing and licking up the side of your neck, then biting down softly on your earlobe and drawing out a tiny whimper.
You squeezed your thighs together and closed your eyes for a moment. You grounded yourself with a deep breath before opting to respond by simply tugging at his cock, teasing the head with your thumb. The groan he let out scratched an itch in your brain you never knew existed and his grip on your jaw grew tighter as he inhaled your scent.
“Get up.” You blindly followed his command, standing when he backed away. He didn’t speak as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and stood with you, hauling you over his shoulder before starting for your room. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t fight, a smile creeping across your face.
You couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped out when he kissed your side. It shouldn’t have tickled as much as it did.
San had an idea of the things you liked, you’d both talked about your escapades enough, so it came as no surprise to you when he gently placed you on your feet only to grab you by the throat and push you back onto the bed. Still, a thrill ran through your body as you wrapped your hands around his wrist. You sucked in a gasp just before he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, your eyes rolling back.
You felt his breath on your face as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Your hands left his arm and moved to his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slowly relieved the pressure on your throat, allowing blood flow to return to normal and give you a head rush. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close when he started to pull away.
“I’ve always wanted to do that…” His voice was a low rumble that made your panties uncomfortably wet. “Always wanted to try everything you mentioned being into. The choking, the biting, the breeding…everything.”
If you weren’t aware of your panties sticking to your folds before, you were after that. “Please do.” You exhaled, trying to pull him back in even as he righted himself between your legs. “All of it. Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” He raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to rest on your hips and you nodded. “Anything?”
“Anything.” You nodded again and bit down on your bottom lip when he rocked his hips, the blunt head of his cock smearing precum across your yoga pants as he rubbed against you. “Please…”
He didn’t speak as his hands slid up your sides, fingers inching under the hem of your hoodie and ghosting over your cool skin. He reached higher still until his hands cupped your breasts. “No bra? Must've been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”
You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh as the conversation from only a few minutes prior repeated itself. “No, actually. I just rarely wear one.”
“Take it off.” He groaned in response, pushing your hoodie up so your chest was entirely exposed. You sat up, which took a bit of effort given your legs were draped over his thick thighs, and pulled the surprisingly-thin material over your head. He immediately knocked you back and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, propping on one arm while his free hand wandered along your belly.
Your arms wrapped around him, one hand moving to his back while the other tangled in his faded pink locks. He’d dyed his hair magenta a few weeks back and it had since lost its vibrancy - though not before staining a few towels and his pillowcase. You gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned into your mouth, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.
He began to trail kisses along your jaw and neck as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your nipple. You pushed your chest into his touch, head tipping back as your back arched. Your breath hitched when he brought his kisses to your chest, lips encasing your nipple as his tongue flicked back and forth. “Sannie-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hand gave your other breast equal attention, lightly pinching and rolling your nipple before swapping sides.
You couldn’t say you’d ever been curious about what it would be like to sleep with San but you were certain his skills would exceed his reputation if he already had you drenched with minimal effort. You wondered if he could feel the wet patch between your legs, starting to soak through your yoga pants.
He could. He found himself eager to bury his head between your legs despite being determined to take his time with you. He worried he’d disappoint you if he moved too quickly but he still began his descent, peppering sloppy kisses down your belly as his fingers hooked in your waistband. He took your pants and panties both in one go as he moved off the bed. You didn’t miss his sharp inhale.
“Y/N…” Your face flushed red as he knelt between your legs, gaze locked on your glistening cunt. You wanted to tell him not to stare, to urge him along, but you couldn’t seem to break your silence. Finally, you lifted your head and he met your eyes, his own eyes widening in something akin to adoration, though more intense. “Is this all for me, sugar?” There was that name again. You nodded eagerly but he shook his head. “Words.”
You frowned a bit, annoyed that he was making you speak up when he could just take one look at you and know. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t give in so you gave a soft whine before speaking. “Yes, Sannie, it’s all yours.”
You didn’t know why you were so against speaking up. The sound he made the second you did respond made you clench around nothing. He noticed, of course, and let out a low groan as he hooked your legs over his shoulders and kissed your thigh. “May I touch?”
“Please do.” You whispered and caught your lip between your teeth.
He continued to litter your thighs with messy kisses and soft bites as his fingertips teased their way up to your pussy, never once breaking eye contact. Your head fell back to the sheets as soon as you felt him run a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. He moved torturously slowly, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit before easing one digit into you.
“You’re drenched, baby…” His voice, though painfully sexy, was full of wonder and amusement.
“Your fault…” You mumbled and he chuckled softly.
One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more. He could tell and you felt him smirk against your skin as he curled his finger. You let out a soft sigh at the action but he wasn’t satisfied and so he added another finger, and another when you still didn’t give him the response he wanted.
“Fuck this cunt’s gonna feel so good-” He sighed.
Now three fingers deep, he began his search for your g-spot. It didn’t take him very long if your embarrassingly loud moan was anything to go by. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned, suppressing another sound when you clenched around his fingers. “You like it when I call you pretty? Or was it ‘baby’?” He teased.
“Both.” It was all you could muster as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit. You immediately brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your sounds but he pulled back and nipped at your thigh.
“Let me hear.” At that point, you had no fight left in you. You just wanted him to touch you and you’d do anything to get your way. You gave a nod, a small ‘okay’ slipping from your lips, and he slowly leaned back in, lips closing around your clit. He sucked and you let out a soft curse, bringing your hands to your chest to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts. He groaned in appreciation and set a slow pace, working you up with his fingers while his tongue traced different shapes over your clit.
You suddenly felt ridiculous for never having wondered if he truly lived up to his reputation. He was proving to you just how good he was and you were cursing yourself for never having thought about having his head between your legs. “Sannie- oh-” You keened, one hand flying to tangle in his hair once more as he pressed against your g-spot at the same time as he sucked on your clit. You wouldn’t last long like this. He was too good.
Your toes curled as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping into you occasionally in place of his fingers. Your muscles ached with the tension that was building but you knew you wouldn’t be relaxed until he made you cum. Hoping to encourage him to get you off faster so he’d fuck you, you began babbling praises, only inflating his ego.
He made sure you felt his appreciative groan before pulling back for a quick breath then diving back in, tongue flicking with vigor. His cock throbbed as he inhaled your scent and his eyes rolled back briefly. He wanted more of you. All of you. So when you announced you were close, he backed away entirely and smirked. “Not yet, baby.”
“Sannie, what the fuck?” You whined indignantly, lifting your head when he sat up between your legs.
“Decided I want you to cum on my cock instead.” He shrugged, moving up the bed to catch your lips in a kiss. You were surprised by how sweet the kiss was considering how feral he’d just been acting over your pussy but you welcomed it, tugging him closer with a soft groan as you tasted yourself.
“So fuck me then.” You whispered between kisses, lapping your juices off his lips a moment later. The whole scenario was filthy and intoxicating.
“You mean like this?” He grunted as he slid into you with ease. Your jaw dropped and you gasped at the stretch. He fit perfectly, like you were made for each other - a thought that both terrified and intrigued you. He wasted no time in setting a slow, deep pace, each thrust driving you up the bed with the force.
“Just like that, Sannie.” You nodded furiously, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand twisted the sheets by your head.
San was on another planet. He finally had you. You, the girl of his dreams ever since he was fifteen. He was finally fully sheathed inside your warmth and he never wanted to leave. He’d give anything to stay with you.
He hadn’t intended to babble that out loud and realized his error when you responded.
“Yeah? Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Then fuck me harder and treat me like the most precious thing you’ve ever held.”
It was an easy ask. He had no problem cherishing you. Even as his hips began to snap harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, he showered you with kisses and words of adoration. “So fucking good, baby. Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted to feel this perfect little pussy? To make you fall apart on my cock?”
“Tell me, Sannie. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”
“God- ever since we were in school. It was so hot the way you fucked her up for hurting me and I’ve wanted you ever since.” His admission sent a thrill rushing through you and you clenched involuntarily, earning a low groan from him.
“And you held it together for that long? Fuck, Sannie, you- oh-” The tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix but it was enough to make your thighs squeeze his hips.
“Shit, baby, you keep that up and I’ll cum…”
“Then keep fucking me just like that.” You demanded, back arching as he dipped his head down to lick and suck on your chest. He caught your nipple in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze the stiff peak, grunting against your skin when your walls fluttered in response. “Want you to cum inside as many times as you can until you make me cum.” It wasn’t a demand or a plea, it was just a simple fact but he was eager to comply with your wishes.
“Christ, y/n, you’re killing me…” San groaned, resting his forehead on your chest as his hips pistoned relentlessly. He pulled back just enough to look up at you and you could tell by his expression just how close he was. “You really want that? Want me to breed you like a good little cocksleeve and keep filling you up over and over until you fall apart for me?”
Your nod and whimper were the only convincing he needed. He let go instantly, stars dancing behind his eyes as he pumped you full of cum. This was all he’d wanted for the better part of a decade and he was on cloud nine over finally getting you.
He briefly pulled out and flipped you over, taking a moment to watch a bead of cum drip down your folds before he slammed back into you. He might regret this later given how sensitive he was but he needed to give you anything you asked for.
Your back arched as he hit your sweet spot and you let out a soft cry. “There! Just like that!”
It didn’t take long before he felt another orgasm building. He warned you and you demanded he continue, begging him to give it to you. His cock twitched and he let go at your behest, filling you all over again.
Before he was finished, he reached around to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He delighted in the squeal you let out and did it again, tears welling in his eyes from all the sensation.
“Oh god, Sannie, I’m so close!” You cried, your thighs trembling as your orgasm threatened to wash over you.
“Cum for me, sugar.” His voice was a low rumble in your ear, hoarse with unshed tears, and you couldn’t hold back. You let out another squeal as he toyed with your clit, tipping you over the edge. Your high hit you like a bus and you let out a sob of ecstasy as your pussy clamped down on San’s leaking cock.
You felt a tear fall on your back and gently pushed him back, forcing yourself to roll over. “You okay?” You asked softly as you pulled him to you, still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“‘M fucking perfect.” He offered a lazy smile as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.
“Mm then what’s this?” You teased as you pulled back, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“Proof that I’ve met my match.” He chuckled softly and wiped his face dry. “Seriously, that was…fucking amazing.”
“It was. Can someone explain to me why we didn’t do this sooner?”
“Who knows.” He shrugged and flopped down beside you, then pulled you to lay on top of him. “But I say we do this every weekend, sugar.” He laughed deeply when you swatted his chest in response but deep down you knew this was more than a one time occurrence.
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signedkoko · 4 months
Note
Oo could I request romantic Vees with a reader who's this famous singer/idol in Hell? (Think, way more than Fizzarolli-level famous)
Valentino | Velvette | Vox [Romantic]
In which you are one of the most popular performance artists in all of hell. Reader is female.
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Your name was more than just 'known'; it was plastered along buildings and chanted by millions
He was always scouting for personalities, following trends in people to see who he could drag down into his vicing grip
But you were untouchable, the first thing he couldn't command to their knees before him
Even so, if Val wanted to meet you, he could, and it was extremely new to the overlord to have to go out of his way to meet someone, but he felt it was worth it
He claims it was because you had possible talent, but those closest to him know he had a bit of a celebrity crush
Valentino is not one to be nervous; he would be direct when telling you that he wanted you, again and again, until you eventually granted him at least one night out, just the two of you
Once he has his chance, he'll pull out every stop just to hear you say that you'd like to see him again
He gets so distracted with you that he forgets the part about getting you into his company, eventually brushing it off by saying you 'didn't suit what he was looking for'
Avoiding being under his contract meant he could never command you, which meant he never had anything to be angry with you about
According to him, you were a role model for all the demons he owned
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Famous stars require famous stylists, and who better than Velvette?
You'd actually reached out to her personally, since a lot of her work inspired your current stylists, and you wanted an upgrade for your tour of hell
Idol's like you were the exact thing people like Velvette dreamed of having in their portfolio, and she insisted on meeting you so she could see what you were looking for
In all her years, she'd never met an idol so genuine—most were snobbish, greedy, or just told her to 'do whatever'
You came in with photos of things you liked, hell, even fabrics you preferred, and a set list of what your songs would look like in order
She was already in love
You get her personal creations, and she insists on being the one to tailor you herself
" Only the best for the best, right? "
She can feel her bitchy attitude melt, and though she gets extremely bothered when anyone interrupts your sessions together, you ground her
It's not long before you two become official, and while she can't follow you into the deeper rings of hell, she will always be sure to watch your performances in the background while she works
She constantly calls you 'doll', because she's always dressing you up
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Influences, aristocrats, idols—none of it was new to the king of social media
Everyone contacted him for their social management, or his team, at least
He didn't do much of the personal work himself; he had far too much on his plate, but he always checked on who was requesting his services
Mostly for the ego boost, knowing the image of so many self-proclaimed "stars'' relied on him
But there was also a list of people he wanted to work for, a list that brought his ego back down and told him he hadn't met his goals yet and had to try harder
You were at the very top
He'd seen a plethora of your performances recorded and reuploaded: best takes, most underrated performances, and unforgettable sets
But he'd never had the chance to see you live until he got a PR package regarding your newest album release
Him? It was certainly interesting to...no shot, you sent him hidden tickets for 'friends only'
He is not fangirling except maybe a bit; he's already cleared his schedule that evening so he can get there and making sure his outfit is cleaned up and ready
Your performance was out of this world, and he is beyond pleased when he is invited backstage to speak with you
There you were, taking off your earrings in your dressing room, smiling at him as if you were old friends
" How was the performance? I'm so glad you came. "
For a moment, hes almost worried you have the wrong person; he seems uncertain of what to say until you continue
" I heard you are hard to win over, so I figured I'd go all out before I ask if you'd consider running my new album compaigne? "
He acts cool, but when he gets home that evening, he is pumping his fist in the air and screaming
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Author's Note - I was thinking lilith-level famous, you are THAT girl... Thank you for requesting! I went for a fem! reader because it was no specified
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al1fers-haven · 3 months
Text
Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
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Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
Text
yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.
So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
Part Two
Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 
You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.
He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!
He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 
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But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 
Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 
So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 
Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 
You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 
On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 
She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”
“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 
Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 
Yes, it is better this way.
That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 
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Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 
He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 
However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.
 Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 
He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 
“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 
The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”
“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am not out of here within ten minutes.” 
“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”
You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”
He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t had tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”
“Because I know the truth.”
Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 
“I know the truth. I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 
The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned you against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 
“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”
“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 
In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 
“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 
“Release me.”
“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW
“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”
That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 
So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?
In twenty minutes, he needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.
What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 
He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.
He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 
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