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#light = people's stupid opinions on him
italictext · 6 months
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I desperately need to befriend a Death Note fan irl who likes Death Note the way I do.. The only DN fans I've met irl are anime only Near haters :'(
#I NEED someone to shake while I rant to them about Death Note pls pls pls#I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO GIGGLE WITH WHILE WE STARE AT DEATH NOTE PANELS PLS PLS PLS#My sister has seen Death Note but she's not really into it + anime only + Near hater </3#It sucks to remember that the Death Note fandom isn't just my mutuals.. Some people genuinely hate Near :((#I LOVE the anime the animation is beautiful the soundtrack is beautiful and OOOOO THE COLOR CODING EEEE but#It butchered the 2nd half soo so badly and changed Near's personality and I'm not a fan of the ending :(#THE MANGA ENDING IS SOOO SO GOOD AND BEAUTIFUL#OMGGGG when Light admits to being Kira and gives them his speech and calls himself god of the new world AND EEEE NEAR SAYS “NO YOURE JUST A#MASS MURDERER“#LIKE EEEE THAT ALWAYS ALWAYS MAKES ME GIGGLE NEAR WAS SOOO SO COOL FOR THAT LIKE HE'S LITERALLY FACE TO FACE WITH KIRA THE GUY WHO KILLED L#And Near REPEATS IT. HE CALLS HIM “JUST A MURDERER” TWICE.#Sorry but the anime made Near so stupid “lol just let him run away it's not like he'll survive”#I love Near and Light's dynamic so much they're so funny. They have the prettiest panels too#Maybe an unpopular opinion but Near vs Light was wayyy more entertaining that L vs Light#And it hurts me to see people say that it should've ended at the 1st half. I know people can have their own opinions or whatever but THEYRE#WRONG!! DN is SOOO much better with the 2nd half + if it ended at L's death that would've sucked. So glad L died midway#I wish I had a friend I could talk about DN to :( I'll just hope one of my friends decide to watch it because idk how to make new friends#Discord servers scare me and while I love my mutuals if any of you tried to message me I think I'd cry out of nervousness lol#Gosh this is long shoukd I even post this
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arttheclown · 1 year
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i don’t know if i want to main-tag this because i have no interest in fighting with disney adults or rabid shippers or w/e but since i’m on the topic, fidget is just… really treated badly by the GMD fandom in general. his presence is just Erased or he’s reduced to being a non-person who doesn’t get to say or do much beyond lingering in the background in fics. when he IS involved, i’ll sometimes see people infantilizing him (as if he isn’t shown drinking, going to burlesque shows or implied to be a hired killer). it would be one thing if he was just a funny side character but he does play a very active and prominent role in the film. his presence is integral to ratigan getting what he wants/needs, they clearly have Some kind of relationship even if it’s just a working one… and people just. idk. they cannot be bothered with fidget and as someone who found him to be one of the most endearing and compelling characters in TGMD it makes me sad
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99woez · 4 months
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don't talk about it ᰔᩚ j.sc
warnings. smut, best friend!sungchan, roommate!sungchan, arguing, it's a dumb argument but you are fighting this man, physical fighting, just shoving nothing crazy but a physical altercation starts this all, unprotected sex, hair pulling, some angst? idk if i missed something let me know! i also did not proofread this because i got out 5k words in one night which is crazy for me. anyways, enjoy!
wc. 5k
summary. your best friend embarrasses you in front of your campus crush. so, of course, you decide to fight with him in the living room and learn some interesting things about him in the process.
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Sungchan had always been stupidly large, in your opinion.
He was so large that you couldn’t resist the urge to playfully test his strength, curious to see how his fit frame would react to your playful jabs or if he would sway with a gentle nudge. He would playfully push you back, never with full force, but these light-hearted scuffles became a regular part of your friendship. It was a source of joy, a shared silliness, it meant everything.
Except for the times it did.
“You’re so stupid sometimes, oh my god!” You shouted at your so-called “best friend,” shoving hard into his chest. This shove wasn’t like the ones you usually gave him. This one was harsh and mean. There was not a semblance of anything alluding to happiness on your face as you looked up at Sungchan with knitted brows and parted lips, shoving hard into his firm chest once again, this time with a shout of frustration.
If we’re being honest, you two have been drinking. It’s not like you’re shitfaced and neither is he, but the alcohol is just enough to make the world blurry at the edges and your words harsher than you typically allow them to be. His chest, solid as a boulder beneath your pushing palms, doesn't yield like it usually would during your fond roughhousing. He stands firm, his expression teetering between annoyance and worry.
"Stop it," he gruffly says, grabbing your wrists mid-shove. Just like that, the playful laughter that usually echoes between you two gets choked in the tension-filled silence. You try to yank your hands-free, but his grip is firm yet gentle. He was never rough with you, even when the fights turned serious like this. It was a rarity for things to turn nasty, but sometimes Sungchan was so oblivious you couldn’t stop yourself from lashing out at him, especially with a few mixed drinks in your system.
“Let go,” You snapped. Sungchan leans in with a tilt of his head, letting out a “Hm?” as he does so, challenging you.
“Chill out first.” That did the exact opposite of chill you out. You hated it when he took that tone of voice with you, as if you were some child that needed to be put into a timeout. 
There were many things you loved about Sungchan: His kindness, his dedication to anything he sets his mind to, his eyes, you loved a lot about Sungchan, but there were many things you couldn’t stand about him. He was oblivious to the simplest of social cues, he got loud when he was drunk, and the way he comforted people was an absolute joke. If you hadn’t known him for more than half your life and shared an apartment with him, you would’ve ditched him when you two graduated high school.
But you didn’t. Now, you’re stuck with a big, dumb roommate who loves telling the men you like that you like them. God, Wonbin was never going to talk to you again after the scene Sungchan caused trying to get him to give you his number. You still can feel the embarrassment hot in your veins, making you lurch forward and finally give his chest a shove that makes him stumble a few steps.
“I won’t chill out! I won’t! What you did was fucking rude!” You yelled, pointing a finger in his face to punctuate your words and get your point across. Sungchan scoffed, turning his head away from you, but you could see his tongue press against the inside of his cheek, making the skin push out slightly. It was a habit of his you had noticed when you two went to parties together in college. It’s what he does when he’s annoyed and holding himself back, beating someone’s ass. It’s a rare occasion for Sungchan to beat someone’s ass, but when it did happen, it was always deserved. Typically, it would be a drunk guy who wanted to buck up to the biggest guy at the party, a one-sided battle of masculinity that Sungchan always won, no matter who came up to him. You’ve only seen Sungchan throw a punch twice in your entire friendship.
Once, when you were in high school, and the last time was at a party during your junior year of college when a man put his hands on you despite you telling him to fuck off. The other times, he had simply told you about when you’d see him in the kitchen with littered bruises on his body. You think about that night more often than you’d like to admit. Sungchan didn’t hesitate to throw a punch for you, knocking the man clean out by the time he was done with him. It lit a fire in you that you’re not proud to admit. There was just something in his eyes that rubbed your brain right. You would never admit it, but were desperate to see that look again. You wanted to see him angry, to watch him lose control no matter how fucked up it sounds.
“Get your hand out of my face,” Sungchan told you firmly, looking you in the eyes to get his point across, but you weren’t deterred. You step closer to him, finger still in his face.
“No. Not until you apologize. Admit it was rude. You were rude.”
“I wasn’t fucking rude,” Sungchan argues, swatting your hand down when you don’t move it from his face. You bring it back up without a care of the consequences, resulting in a game of him swatting your hand down every time you bring it up.
You two look stupid. Thank God this is in the privacy of your living room.
“You had no right-”
“You were never going to talk to him if I didn’t! You’re a chicken-”
“I’m not a fucking chicken––Oh my god, don’t call me a bird.”
“You’re such a fucking chicken, dude. Do you remember how long it took you to even talk to Shotaro? Months. ‘Took you months to even say hi to him, and that’s because-”
“Shut up.”
“That’s because I had to step it! I was the one to get you to talk to him!” Sungchan continued with a shit-eating grin, voice picking up volume as he leaned down to get closer to you as if you couldn’t hear him clear enough, pointing to himself like he had won some kind of award. Your already flushed cheeks begin to heat up when you remember the Shotaro incident of 2022. He always brought up Shotaro, and even if it was just to pick on you playfully, it still struck a nerve. You were more shy than Sungchan ever was, always letting him start the conversations or introduce you to new people. Half of your friends are Sungchan’s friends; half of the people you’ve dated are because Sungchan knew them first. Every connection in your life could be traced back to Sungchan, which drove you insane.
“Now, you want to talk all this shit because you got embarrassed I had to step in again and help you get some dick,” Sungchan pressed, his grin turning into a smirk as he nodded at his words, feeling them in his being because they’re true. You stared at him with contempt, teeth grinding as your fists balled up tightly. “You should be thanking me. You’re so ungrateful for everything-”
You lunged at him. You swear you don’t have control of your body when you do it, you just throw your entire weight into his chest and hope for the best. Sungchan let out an “Oof!” sound when you collided with him, staggering back and hitting the ground with you on top of him. You act as if you two are playfully wrestling, but none of your movements have an ounce of playfulness in them. You straddled his hips firmly as you shoved at his hands harshly to get them away from grabbing you. You knew once he got his hands on you, it was over. He’d flip you two over, and it’d be done. You couldn’t let him win this. You couldn’t do it. You had to prove it to him.
You don’t know what it was, but you had to prove it.
You grab his hair tightly, jerking his head off the carpet to distract him, tugging hard on the brown locks. Sungchan lets out a yelp that sounds pathetic. His eyes squeezed shut as his large hands wrapped around your wrist to try and pull you off of him.
“Not fair-” He started. You shake his head, eliciting another yelp from him.
“Shut up. Shut the fuck up,” You spat at him, shaking him again. His face contorted in pain and confusion, groaning softly as he did what you told him for once. You couldn’t believe he actually listened. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d get this far. You’re not exactly sure what to do next. So, you shake his head again, making him hiss when you tugged harder on his locks. “Can’t fucking stand you, you know that? You’re such a jerk sometimes. Just big, stupid, and taking up space.” You shake his head around with every word, watching him drop his hands and put them up in front of him in faux surrender, but he doesn’t say anything. He only whined and grunted when you pulled on his hair harder than usual.
You waited for him to spit something back at you, to call you a coward, to say you needed him, but nothing but pants left his plush lips. You furrow your brows in confusion at his silence. Sungchan was never quiet. You shake him again.
“Hello? Say something!” You shake his head again, this time back and forth. You won’t lie. It was fun to have him like this. He acted like some kind of puppet that you were the master of, pulling him around in whichever direction you wanted him to go in, and he just took it. Sungchan sighed in defeat, keeping his eyes shut tightly.
“My dick just twitched.” 
Oh.
“Excuse me?” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. Your hands, which had been roughly pulling at Sungchan's hair, suddenly freeze. Your heart pounds in your chest as you gaze down at him, cocking a brow at him. His face is flushed a deep crimson, though whether from embarrassment or something else, you can't tell.
"I said," he starts again, much slower this time, swallowing hard, "My... my dick just twitched."
You blink at his repeated confession, not expecting him to repeat the words. There’s a tension growing between the two of you that you’ve never felt before, making your throat dry as you stare at Sungchan’s embarrassed face, watching his chest rise and fall as he pants beneath you. Flashes of what he’d look like without his shirt flash in your brain, wondering what sounds he’d make as you sink down on him, how his eyes would look, how the muscles would ripple under his––Jesus Christ, get it together, girl. You remind yourself, clearing your throat down at him.
“Like…Seriously?” Sungchan nods at your dry words, opening his eyes slowly to look up at you. A switch in your brain is flipped when you see his big brown eyes. He looks utterly pathetic like this, hair in your hand revealing his forehead, eyes pleading for something silent, and lips in a perfect soft pout. You wanted to take his picture like the actual definition of pitiful.
You chuckle at him, shaking him again and tugging his hair hard to see if it really did anything for him. He whines again, shutting his eyes as his hands lurch towards your hips, holding tightly with a sharp breath through his teeth. You smirk at his reaction, raising your brows in slight shock it was this easy to get him going. Maybe it was the alcohol, you think. You’ve seen Sungchan shove his tongue down girls’ throats just mere minutes after he met them, but this is you. You’re his best friend, his roommate, the girl who beat his ass for talking to her crush for her. You know you’re pretty, and Sungchan is just a man, but you’re still caught off guard by it all.
Your palm still cradled his scalp, thumb lazily tracing small circles at the base of his hairline. Sungchan’s hands on your hips squeeze gently, fingers digging into your flesh just a bit more than necessary and causing a shiver to wind its way up your spine.
Without thinking, you leaned forward and claimed Sungchan's lips in a rough, desperate kiss. His taste was different than any guy you've ever kissed - salty with a hint of beer and lime from the drink he had tonight. You wrapped your hand tightly around the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you as your other hand found its way under his shirt to feel his warm skin. You didn't let up when he moaned into your mouth, feeling your touch while he tentatively kissed you back. Your anger turned into desperation quickly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting him fully now. His lips were soft and plush against yours as they parted slightly to let you in further. You moaned the moment your tongues slid together, digging your nails into his toned chest as he pressed in further, sucking softly on the slick muscle in your mouth.
Sungchan's hands moved up your body, gripping your waist and still pulling you closer. The fabric of your shirt scratching against his rough palms made you shiver with anticipation for more contact. You grind down on him out of instinct, feeling the bulge in his pants grow as he groans against your mouth, wanting more from both of you. His scent filled your senses - a mix of sweat and cologne and something uniquely Sungchan that made you want more.
The sound of his rhythmic grunts filled the room, a mix of desire and surprise in every breath he took. His fingers dug into your skin through your shirt, and you moaned into his mouth once more. Your breath hitched when he bit down on your lower lip gently, making you gasp and whimper into the kiss before breaking it, desperate for air. You gasp softly when you part, watching with hazy eyes as he pants as well, lips slick with spit and typically wide eyes heavy with lust.
You tug at his shirt, nodding before he has any time to say something that will kill the mood.
“Take it off.”
And he listens like a dog, pushing himself up and pulling his white T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside before wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you flush against him. There are no thoughts in your head right now, only Sungchan, touching Sungchan, kissing Sungchan, fucking Sungchan––Holy shit, you were totally going to fuck Sungchan. That hits you harder than you thought it would. You’ve thought about it before. How could you not? He’s beautiful, kind, and built like a God. Of course, you thought about fucking Sungchan. It was nothing like this, however. Typically, you thought of him having your face pressed into the mattress, back arched, and fucking you from behind like he was getting paid. You would’ve never guessed you’d be on top, but it’s not like you can’t get into it for Sungchan. You’d do anything for Sungchan.
"Are you sure?" Sungchan whispers against the skin of your neck, his hands finding your hips again to steady you against him, his bare chest warm and firm. You're taken aback for a moment, not expecting the question. But then you realize that he’s always been considerate, even when he’s on the verge of losing control.
"Yeah," you say firmly, the word slipping out without thought and causing heat to flare in Sungchan's eyes.
Without hesitation, you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head swiftly. The cool air hits your skin, making goosebumps spread across your chest and arms. Sungchan's eyes widen as he takes you in, his gaze making you feel exposed and powerful. You struggle to pull your jeans off, having to crawl off of him to kick them off in haste. You hate how desperate you look but can’t bring yourself to care. Sungchan rolls on his side when you crawl off of him, lingering towards you like a lost puppy. His eyes watch as more of your skin is revealed to him, letting out a groan when he sees the smooth skin of your thighs.
Before you have the chance to climb back on top of him, he leans in, kissing the side of your thigh with a moan. You let out a gasp in shock but watched him with parted lips, threading your hands through his hair again as he dragged his lips all over the expanse of your thigh, leaving a trail of glistening spit as he did. He grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him roughly, making you fall back onto the carpet with another gasp. You don’t argue for once; you are too invested in what Sungchan will do next, even if you care.
His lips pepper kisses across the inside of your thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin with deep breaths as he inched closer and closer to your core.
He licks his lips as he hooks a long finger in your underwear, pulling them to the side. A moan leaves his lips when he sees your pussy for the first time, looking down at it like he’s looking at a coveted piece of art. You watch him closely, ears turning pink as he lifts two fingers to his lips, licking the tips of them before bringing them down between your legs to rub circles into your clit. His gaze stays on your cunt, watching how the pretty pink flesh moves beneath his fingers, biting his bottom lip when he hears you let out a whine, seeing your thighs tremble at just the slightest touch. Finally, his dark gaze lifts to meet yours.
With his eyes trained on yours, he presses a long finger inside you. A sigh leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, gripping the carpet with one hand while the other dug into your side, biting your bottom lip as he pressed another finger inside. You moan this time, feeling your walls begin to stretch for him. You hear him groan quietly, making your eyes open. You’re immediately met with his gaze that never left your face. He looks like he’s in a trance, staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You can’t tell how it makes you feel, but you feel hot, like you’re boiling from the inside out. It aches, but it’s so intoxicating that you want more of it.
You whimper at how his fingers slickly slide out, then back in, watching him get lost in the sight of your reactions. You’re so wet for him. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you got so quickly. You swallow thickly as your chest rises and falls with each pant. His eyes stay on your face as his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles that make you shiver with a choked-out moan. His free hand cups your jaw, tilting your head back slightly, forcing your lips apart to look deeply into your eyes as he watches you crumble under him.
Feeling emboldened, Sungchan takes his fingers out of you slowly, letting out a long moan when they leave you empty. He lays a line of sweet pecks against your inner thighs, leaving tiny bites and nips on the soft flesh until he reaches the hem of his boxers. With a breathy "Fuck," he tugs them down enough to reveal his hard cock pressing against the fabric. You gulp as it springs from its confines, averting your eyes momentarily before snapping them back up to challenge his gaze. His thick length twitches with anticipation before he guides it towards you, slick with pre-cum leaking from the tip. Your heart stops for a beat before racing wildly in your chest again.
"Wrap your legs around me," Sungchan orders softly, not breaking eye contact even when you hesitate for a second before obeying. He grunts when he feels your folds pressing against his cock, pushing inside without a moment’s hesitation. He slides in so easily, groaning at how smooth the glide inside you is. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, making you moan as well. The way his cock splits your walls apart for him is delicious, to say the least, as a euphoria fills your veins as your walls spasm around him with another moan, this one airier than the one before.
“Fuck,” Sungchan curses, fingers digging into the carpet next to your head as he looks down at where your bodies were connected before back at your face. You two lock eyes again, making your heart hammer in your chest harder than before. Still, you meet his gaze with a quiet whimper, hands wrapping around his strong biceps as you bat your lashes at him.
“Feels good, Sungie?” You ask in a too-sweet voice. You rarely whip out for him unless you ask for a favor, like getting something off the top shelf or making him finish your short answer response questions because you don’t want to. Sungchan would do anything for you, and you’d do anything for Sungchan. He takes a deep breath at your tone, lips curling into a smirk before he bites his bottom lip, nodding.
Then, his hips roll into yours.
Sungchan's thick cock feels even better than you could have ever imagined, stretching you wide and fulfilling you completely. His hips roll into yours slowly, making you moan and whine beneath him with each gentle thrust. The way he fills you up is mind-numbing, his smirk turning into a grimace as he leans down to capture your lips in a rough kiss.
Your walls clamp down on him at the contact, purposely trying to get more friction between the two of you. Sungchan groans against your lips, slipping his hands under your back and lifting you up onto his lap effortlessly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his hard chest pressed against yours. Your heart pounds in your chest as he starts to fuck you properly now, eyes closing at the sensation that washes over you. You swear you can feel his heartbeat against your chest, but you convince yourself you’re just dreaming it.
You feel every inch of him inside of you, making your walls tighten around him with every snap of his hips into yours. A tiny sob leaves your lips when he hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. You dig your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, jaw-dropping and eyes rolling back at how your body moves like a rag doll and at how sharply his hips snap up into you. He groans into your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin before sucking softly to soothe it with his tongue. You can't help but shudder in his lap; this feels so good that it hurts. His hands hold you in place, one on your waist and the other cradling the back of your head as he takes rough control of the kiss again, teeth scraping against soft skin with every thrust. He pants against your lips, moaning your name softly and how good you make him feel. It's all too much for you; all too real with Sungchan, yet so not real. You’re fucking your roommate on your living room floor––You’re fucking your best friend on your living room floor.
Your hands find their way into his hair again, holding onto him tightly as he continues to fuck into you like your his, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and over your collarbone. You mewl at the feeling, arching your back into his chest as he hits that sweet spot inside you once more. You could feel the warmth spreading through your veins, making you dizzy with need. The room spins around you as he thrusts harder, faster, deeper into your already aching pussy. His moans mix with yours, their tongues meeting in a messy kiss that speaks volumes about how much you both want this.
Your legs quiver as he takes control of the situation, fingers digging into your skin softly before trailing up to caress your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a strangled cry when he pinches at one of your nipples roughly, making you moan into his mouth even more, looking down to watch him work with a breath through your teeth. Your hands' card through the hair on the back of his head, eyes shutting to focus solely on the pleasure coursing through your veins with every drag of Sungchan’s cock against your walls.
"Sun-Sungchan," you whimper. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears. Your body is sweaty and flushed, a beautiful sight for him to feast his eyes upon. He growls lowly when he finally meets your gaze again, heat pooling in your lower belly at the raw desire he displays.
“You’re so fucking good, baby. ‘Should’ve fucked you soon, hm?” Sungchan groans, his voice creased with effort as he continues to pound into you. You can’t help but respond with a needy whimper, skin burning under his touch as you nod your head dumbly. You feel him everywhere, and it's overwhelming - the way he’s stretched you wide open, the way he feels pushing deep inside of you, the way his hands are holding you in place as if afraid that you'll slip away from underneath him.
Your heart beats furiously against your chest, matching rhythm with the throbbing ache between your legs. You're close, too close, but not quite there yet. Sungchan seems to sense your growing desperation, the flash of triumph in his eyes telling you he knows exactly what he's doing to you. He reaches down and begins rubbing slow circles on your clit again, thumb pressing against the sensitive nub just enough to make you cry out in pleasure.
“You gonna cum for me?” He whispers against your throat, teeth dipping into your soft flesh, causing a sharp gasp from your lips. You nod frantically in response, words failing you as white-hot pleasure courses through your veins. He laughs softly - a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine.
The way you melt against him is intoxicating. He grunts, unable to think straight as he feels his own orgasm building up. His hips move even faster, his cock sliding in and out of your welcoming heat with each thrust. He groans against your skin, panting heavily as he fucks you like it’s his last dying will, wet sounds filling the room that mixes with your pants and moans. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sounds you’re making, cheeks growing more read because of it. Sex is so embarrassing sometimes.
He pulls away from your neck just a little to look into your eyes, panting heavily as they roll back in pleasure. Sungchan's lips curl into a smirk at seeing how lost you get. Your walls tighten around his cock once again as you cum around him, making Sungchan's eyes roll back into his head and tilt his head back with a melodic groan that has you moaning as well. You feel him tremble beneath you as he finally cums inside of you, making you smirk softly as your hands run up and down his back.
You throw your head back and cry out his name, orgasm hitting you hard and fast like a freight train. He watches as you finally hit your peak, jaw-dropping at how gorgeous you look when you feel good. Your walls clamp down around him, and your muscles spasm in ecstasy; even through the haze of pleasure, you feel every drop of his cum spilling into you, the heat of it searing into your core. Your body convulses and shivers under the onslaught of pleasure, your voice breaking on Sungchan's name. 
Sungchan stays still for a moment longer, his cock still buried deep inside of you. His chest heaves against yours, ragged gasps filling the space between your sated bodies. He blinks slowly, his gaze holding yours captive as he pants out your name. You take his face into his hands with a deep breath, leaning in and kissing his lips without a second though. He moans into the kiss, holding your wrists gently as he does so.
You both stay like that for a while. Bodies joined together in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. The only sounds in the room are your gasping breaths and the rapid beat of your heart pounding in sync. Cautiously, Sungchan pulls out of you gently, making your pussy squeeze around nothing instinctively at the loss, a soft whimper leaving your lips.
He rolls off to one side, pulling you with him so that you're tucked against his side. His arm wraps around you and keeps you close to him, fingers dancing along your sweaty skin lightly. Neither of you speak for long moments, too wrapped up in trying to regain control of your breathing and coming down from your highs even to fathom thinking of words right now.
Eventually, though, Sungchan breaks the silence with a soft whisper, "You okay?"
Your lips twitch into a tired smile against his chest, pressing a small kiss there before nodding. "Yeah," you huff out after a moment, "That was…"
"Crazy," he finishes for you, making you shut your eyes with a laugh, nodding in agreement.
“Yeah…That was crazy,” You whisper, moving your head to rest on his chest to soak up more of his warmth. Your cheek squishes against his chest as you lay there, looking down at his spent cock resting against his thigh. It hits you that you’re both naked and just had sex on your living room floor. This calls for a conversation at the least but you can’t drag yourself to start it, completely spent from what just occurred.
So, instead, you close your eyes.
You’ll deal with it in the morning.
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luvyeni · 1 month
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SISTER TAMER ,, 黄仁俊
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pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ roommate!renjun x reader wc. 2.2k
genre. smut
🦢◞  includes ... reader is marks sister, oral ( m receiving ), throat fucking, rough sex, degradation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex
request. brother's best friend renjun x reader 🥺 pretty please 🥺
「 authors note 𖹭 」 i like this one , mean dom junnie means everything to me.
❪ masterlist! ❫
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renjun liked mark; he was clean, he paid his bills on time and he was an all around good guy. he did have one flaw though, and it wasn't necessarily him, but an attachment to him— mark had a sister; you, renjun didn't like you.
you had moved in a year after he did; you were a freshman in college and your brother had an extra room, and who was he to say no? his name wasn't on the lease— he soon wished it was, cause then he had authority to get rid of you. you were a nightmare. he and mark did everything; the cooking, the cleaning; mark paid his and your portion of the bills, and gave you money that you spent on stupid stuff in his opinion.
“she's just not use to hearing the word no.” mark would say when he'd tell mark about your behavior. “our parents really spoiled her, it's best to just give her what she wants, to avoid anything.” that just pissed renjun off even more; he didn't want to move out, he actually grew to like mark, and the apartment was close to his campus and his job— it was just you; all he had to do was get rid of you, but that didn't seem like it was happening for a very long time.
“good morning junie!” you chirped walking into the kitchen, he grumbled. “i told you to stop calling me that.” you smiled; reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, the shirt he was assuming was your brothers raising up revealing a new tattoo on your lower back, along with part of your ass, he was used to it by now; the tiny shorts you would always wear against your brother wishes. “does your brother know you got that?” you smirked. “you gonna tell me junie?”
“it's none of his business, i’m an adult.” you sat down. “besides he won't know, only people i want to see it can.” you winked, sitting down at the table. “mark told you about wearing those shorts in the house.” you rolled your eyes. “please, do you listen to everything mark says?” he was already irritated; and you were making it worse. “what are you two talking about?” mark emerged from his room. “nothing mark.” you stood up from your seat , finishing your coffee. “yo, go put some clothes on.” mark said, you scoffed. “i literally just got up, i wanted coffee before my shower.”
“well you got your coffee, now go out some clothes on,” he said. “me and the girls are going out later tonight, can i have some money?” renjun watched the older boy sigh. “i don't get paid until tomorrow; i just gave you money.” your whine rang throughout the boys head. “please i need it, for drinks.” mark sighed in defeat. “fine , i'll wire you the money, now go get dressed,” he said, smiling while skipping back to your room. “you know you could've just told her no.”
mark nodded, “you heard her about to start man.” renjun sat up. “she could also get a job.” mark scoffed. “don't worry about man, but i do have to tell you something.” renjun nodded for him to continue. “gotta work the late shift tonight, won't be in until the morning.” renjun knew where this was going; it's happened numerous of times before. “mark.” he sighed. “i know , i know but i can't turn this down and you know she's not gonna give up a night out.” the elder boy said. “just make sure she gets in and into bed safely.”
great now he had to babysit a drunk you, on the night he was supposed to be studying. “look, i'll pay the light bill for this month,” he said. “its the least i could do after having to deal with that.” renjun nodded. “thank you so much bro, just make sure she doesn't swallow her tongue, or fall asleep in the shower…” mark stood up from his seat. “again.”
“has anything worked?” yunjin asked. “nothing, he doesn't budge.” you said , downing your second shot. “he's always just so moody.” ryujin laughed. “maybe he's just not interested in you” you scoffed. “maybe or maybe im not trying hard enough.” your friends shook their heads. “and what do you think mark is gonna do when he finds out his little sister is trying to fuck his roommate.” you shrugged. “my brother doesn't have to know everything i do with my life.”
stumbling down the hall of your apartment; putting the code in the door; pushing the door open. “mark!” you shouted, words slurring, taking your shoes off. “mark!” you repeated, walking to the back where your room was— also where renjuns room was.
renjun typed away on his screen, earphones in, not noticing you stumbling into his room— that was until his earphones were snatched out his ear. “what the fuck!” you chuckled. “where's mark?” you sat on his bed. “you smell like alcohol.” he scrunched his nose in disgust. “that's because i’ve been drinking, duh.” he rolled his eyes. “your brother had the late shift, he told me to make sure you get in safe.” he said. “you look safe , now get out and don't swallow your tongue.”
“mmh, don't wanna.” you laid back on his bed. “wanna stay right here.” he sighed, annoyed. “get up.” you ignored him, your skirt rising up, he could see your black panties. “yn get up and go to your room, now.” your hair messily displayed around your head like a halo. “yn im not fucking around.” you sat up, your boobs almost peeking out. “no.”
you could barely register anything before he was out of his chair, standing in front of you. “im so sick of you.” you felt a tug to your hair. “you don't fucking listen.” he growled , forcing you to look up at him. “that shit stops today.”
your panties were soaked, watching him undo the ties of his sweats, using his free had to push them down to his ankles. “re-renjun.” he grabbed your jaw. “shut the fuck up.” he spat, his cock hard in his underwear— guess seeing your panties really got him going. “you talk when i give you permission to, understand?” you nodded. “you have a mouth, use it.”
“y-yes.” your mouth water as he pulled his cock out, slapping it across your cheek. “you want my cock so bad it's disgusting.” he cursed, rubbing it along your cheek. “desperate for a cock even if attached to someone who can't stand you.” he tapped the tip of his length, coating your plump lips in his precum. “pl-please, i want it.”
“did i say speak?” he slapped your cheek. “apologize.” he ordered. “s-sorry.” you stuttered out. “good you do know how to listen when im telling you to do something.” he said. “you're not my , hpmh!” your bratty comeback was interrupted by renjun shoving his cock into your wet cavern. "fuck, just couldn't help yourself.” he growled. “at least your mouth is good for something.” he moaned, hand tangled up in your mane. “tired of you always running your mouth.” he pushed your head all the way down on his length. “fuck , time to put it to good use.”
he pulled out; leaving trail of spit dripping down your chin. “gonna fuck your face.” he shoved himself back inside, thrusting into your mouth. “yeah, fuck!” he cursed, your throat contractions around his cock, the gagging and lewd noises coming from your throat egging him off. “nasty fucking mouth.” he pushed your head down on his length , holding it there. “come on choke on my cock fuck you want it so bad.” your manicured hands holding his thighs. “shit!”
he let your head go, finally giving you air. you sputtered and coughed , black streaks from your mascara running down your cheeks. “im not done yet slut.” he pulled you back , shoving his cock back down your throat. “gonna cum down your throat.” his hips moved back and forth a fast pace. “fu-fucking take it!”
you felt the warmth of his seed, hitting the back of your throat. “shit!” he released your head again. “look at you all messy, covered in spit like a true slut.” his cock bobbing against his stomach. “turn the fuck around.” not giving you a chance to recover from his assault on your throat. “come on do it.” he pushed you back on the bed , flipping you on to your stomach. “put your fucking ass up.” he maneuvered your body.
“soaked right through your panties.” he slapped your ass, pulling your skirt down. “tiny fuckin skirt.” you yelped feeling another sting to your ass. “wearing shit like this to get my attention huh?” he rubbed your cock along your folds. “i asked you a question.” another sharp sting to your ass making you moan in pleasure. “y-yes, all for you.” you gasped.
“slut.” he spat on his cock, using your juices to lube his cock. “beg for it.” you whined, only for him to slap your ass. “if i wanted to listen to you whine like a child would've said so , i said fucking beg , come on , beg for my cock like you beg your brother for money.”
“pl-please junie.” you whimpered, pussy aching to be filled. “pl-please fuck me, i want it.” moving your ass on his length. “i want your cock inside me.” trying to fuck yourself on his cock, he didn't like that. “what the fuck are you doing?” he growled, pushing your head down into his pillow. “did i say do that? you don't fucking listen.” he shoved his cock inside you giving you no warning. “fuck!”
he waited no time, not giving you any time to adjust to his sudden intrusion, holding your waist in his hands , fucking you; your ass bouncing. “you don't make the rules with me , i do -fuck- you understand?” you were too fucked out to answer , but he still wanted one, grabbed you hair , tugging hard. “answer me!”
“fuck yes!” you shouted, neighbors probably getting a sense of what was going on, but that was marks problem; you could barely even function, shouting his name like a mantra as he abused your cunt. “fuck I'm gonna cum!”
your cunt was gripping his cock like a vice, he wasn't sure how long he was gonna last. “fuck!” he hissed. “pl-please let me cum.” you cried , legs burning , tears streaming down your face. “you gonna be a good girl -fuck- when me or your brother tells you to do something you're gonna do it right?” he slapped your cunt. “fuck junie!” you screamed. “are you?”
“i didn't say you can, so fu-fucking hold it.” he grunted, you whined , usually when you had sex , you came whenever you wanted, this was new. “i-i can't.” you slurred. “i didn't fucking ask.” he pulled out , giving your ass one last slap, flipping you on your back, shoving his cock back inside you, hitting a new angle.
“yes fuck!” you screamed. “pl-please.” he grunted. “fuck im gonna cum.” he hissed. “cum , cream my fucking cock like a slut.” the knot in your stomach snapping , cumming, a white ring forming around his cock as he continued to fuck you. “sh-shit.” he quickly removed himself , cumming all over your stomach. “ugh fuck!”
you were heavy breathing, coming down from your long awaited high; renjun on the other hand wasn't done. “get the fuck up , we're not done.” he said. “shit is gonna change around here , even if i gotta fuck it into you.” … you were in for a long night.
mark tiredly made his way down the hall to the apartment, ready to hit his bed. “huh?” he noticed three written letters tapped to his door; renjun must've had a girl or some over. ripping the papers off the door , putting in the password , throwing the papers in the trash. “renjun?”
he checked the time, the boy normally was up eating breakfast by now. “jun where you at bro?” he heard shuffling and cursing coming from the boys room , he shook his head , going to check on you— your bed hadn't been slept in. “shit jun she didn't come in last night.” you could be past out somewhere and he wouldn't know. “jun did she come in last night?” he knocked on the boy's door.
“sh-shit that's your brother get up.” the boy shook you, you groaned in pain. “my head.” your voice horse. “my legs.” you were ignoring the boy next to throwing your clothes at you. “junie what-” you suddenly saw the darkness off the blanket covering you. “did you see— what the fuck are you doing?” you shoved the blanket off your head , face going pale , your brother standing in the doorway. “mark.”
“mark bro— whatever went down in this room , i don't want to know , and i never want to know.” he said. “just know it better not happen while im here and keep it down so the neighbors better not come knocking.” he shut the door before any of you could say something. “this is why i said go to your room last night, but insisted on sleeping here.”
“and you let me.” you smirked condescendingly , that pissed him off. “did you not learn anything from last night?” he grabbed your jaw; a loud bang on the wall.
“get the fuck out of his room now!”
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©LUVYENI
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lessbienlesbian · 7 months
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mizu x fem!reader nsfw a-z relationship headcanons
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i’m sorry this took so long for me to write, but i hope y’all enjoy!
a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
after both you and mizu have reached your peak, she is honestly quite clingy, although she would never admit this to anyone else. she would hold you protectively and press gentle kisses to your forehead and hairline, all while whispering about how well you did and asking if she can get you anything.
b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
mizu loves her hands. she loves what they look like, how they feel, and most importantly what she can do with them. she is proud of the calluses that cover them and she is proud of the skill and nimbleness with which she can use her sword and make you come undone. her favorite part of your body is your eyes, more specifically the fact that she can look into them and see so clearly that your intentions and love for her are genuine.
c = cum (anything to do with cum)
mizu loves to eat you out. she genuinely thinks that you taste so good, and will bury her face in your pussy until your juices are dripping down her chin as she looks up at you with that stupid adorable cocky smirk. sometimes she will even hold a glistening finger up to the light for you to see.
“look at this baby, is this all for me?”
“god, you smell so good. stay still sweetheart, let me taste you.”
d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory)
honestly, mizu’s dirty secret is just how horny and absolutely whipped she is for you. she’s got it so bad and she would do absolutely anything for you. i know that’s not really dirty per say, but she’s pretty open about most other things.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
mizu is not very experienced at all. her only partner before you was mikio, and the sex she had with him was pleasing to her but not particularly outstanding. it also didn’t involve much action or movement on her part, so she would have a lot to learn when first being intimate with you. however, mizu is a very quick and eager learner. it is almost frustrating how naturally good she is at knowing how to touch you in just the right way.
f = favorite position 
mizu is a fan of any position where she gets to be as close to you as possible. she really values the closeness and physical intimacy that goes along with having sex. bonus points if she can easily hide her face because she gets hella shy. 
g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
mizu can actually be pretty lighthearted in the moment. i wouldn’t go as far as calling her humorous, but the playful and teasing side to her personality is definitely present. she also enjoys a playful “fight” for dominance at times, she just can’t help it with her competitive nature. 
h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
mizu has very dark brown pubic hair that matches the hair on her head. she has a full bush and doesn’t do anything along the lines of hair removal.
i = intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment)
oh dear god mizu is so romantic. she’ll hold your hand while you fuck her, make eye contact for as long as she can, and whisper sweet nothings and intimate confessions into your ear. like by day mizu is slicing people up on the hunt to kill her potential father, and by night she’s blushing and trying to hide her face while you gently kiss her cute little pink nose. like damn, get you a girl that can do both.
j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
it is my personal opinion that mizu does not masturbate outside of a brief period of self discovery as an adolescent and then maybe after getting together with you if the two of you are separated for a lengthy period for whatever reason.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks)
i am a firm believer that mizu is very into praise, both when it comes to you and her. she LOVES to be told that she’s doing a good job and that she’s pretty because let’s face it, this girl does not hear that kinda shit very often (or at all). god she’s just so cute, shyly hiding her face in your shoulder so you can’t see how much she is blushing, biting her lip to silence the small whimpers she’s letting out, tentatively reaching over to interlace her fingers with yours. and those shy little “shut ups” mumbled in your ear are just the icing on the cake.
l = location (favorite places to do the deed)
mizu doesn’t really have a preferred location. as long as the two of you are safe and not in the view of other people, she’s good to go. 
m = motivation (what turns them on)
she gets very turned on when/if the two of you spar together. the combination of competition, physical closeness, and playfulness just does it for her.
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
i’ll just list some off. blood, bondage (her receiving), intense degradation, exhibitionism, cnc, threesomes, intense humiliation, and breeding kink (i’ll explain this one at the end of this section). basically, she is pretty opposed to anything that makes her feel unsafe or like she doesn’t have control over what’s happening to her. that is not to say that she would be unwilling to submit if she really trusted you, she just greatly fears being taken advantage of. okay now to explain the breeding kink. i know this may be an unpopular opinion and while i do think our girl has MAD strap game, i do not think she would be into the idea of breeding. at her core, mizu feels resentment towards those who conceived her because of her hatred for and the stigma towards being mixed race. it is because of this that i believe that anything suggesting the idea of creating more people like her (even if it couldn’t actually happen) would be a major mood killer.
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
mizu can be a bit sloppy when she eats you out, but she definitely prefers to give. her lack of experience combined with her tendency to just get fully pussy drunk leads to her eagerly lapping up your cum for as long as you’ll let her.
“mizu please” you groan with your hands tangled in her hair. “my clit, i need you on my clit”
p = pace
the pace at which you have sex with mizu really depends on how much time you have on your hands. she prefers to take her time with you, spending as long as possible worshipping every inch of your body. if mizu is feeling frustrated or stressed, her pace becomes more frantic and desperate as she seeks her and your release.
q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
if necessary, mizu will have a quickie with you, but she much prefers proper sex. realistically though, quickies are often all that there is time/proper security for, so she makes the best of the circumstances.
r = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
honestly, after everything that she has been through, mizu is not a risk taker when it comes to her sex life. she would be pretty vanilla when it comes to physical safety.
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)
when mizu is on top she can go for a very long time. she takes pride in how good she can make you feel; teasing you, edging you, and making you cum over and over until you’re a quivering mess beneath her. however, she is a different story entirely. despite her incredible physical strength and stamina, mizu is so incredibly sensitive and it does not take very much stimulation or very long for her to cum.
t = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
mizu does not own any toys when you first meet her, as pleasure was not necessarily a priority. however, if you suggest it to her, she would DEFINITELY be open to using a harigata (dildo/strap on) and maybe even a tagaigata (double sided dildo). wearing a strap would boost her confidence an insane amount, and she’d take great pride in how well she can fuck you.
u = unfair (how much they like to tease)
mizu loves to tease you but is not a fan of being teased. she relishes in the way that you squirm beneath her and beg for more as that cocky little grin spreads over her smug face. but when it comes to her pleasure, as much as she is embarrassed to admit it, mizu is quite desperate and impatient.
v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)
as evidenced by that one scene with mikio, mizu is actually pretty loud. her voice is high, feminine, and desperate. when she is trying her best to be quiet, she will express her pleasure through whimpers, gasps, and soft whispers. when volume is not a concern, the room will be flooded with loud moans and cries.
w = wild card (a random headcanon)
i think that mizu has incredibly sensitive nipples and if she let you touch them for long enough, she could cum from nipple stimulation alone. the first time this happens she is absolutely mortified, but you reassure her that it is perfectly alright.
“w-wait, y/n!” mizu whimpers, her back arching in desperation. her slender body writhes under your unrelenting touch, small gasps leaving her lips as you tug on her aching nipples.
x = x-ray
mizu is slender, toned, and lean. she is incredibly muscular and slim because of the intensity with which she trains and she is about 5’6 or 5’7. she has firm a-cup breasts with average sized pink nipples, but they are typically hidden under the fabric she uses to bind her chest. her pussy is an innie, and unless her legs are fully spread, you can only see her outer lips. when she opens herself up to you, her small clit is hidden beneath its dusky pink hood. her glistening hole is tight and small, and much to her chagrin, clenches and flutters desperately at even the slightest bit of stimulation. the poor girl is just so sensitive and needy.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
as much as she hates to admit it, mizu has a very high sex drive. she gets turned on super easily, especially when it comes to anything involving you. you could literally brush your fingertips against her hip and she would become a flustered mess.
z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
mizu can fall asleep pretty quickly, but she prefers to stay awake until you are asleep. if you catch onto this habit and decide to question her about it, she will deny it. watching over you to make sure that your sleep is restful and you are under her protection for as long as possible doesn’t exactly fit her image in the beginning. then, by the time you’ve gotten to see her softer side, she will deny it more for your sake. she doesn’t want you to know how much she worries about you for fear of teasing, being a smothering presence, and being admonished for sacrificing her own basic needs to make sure that yours are met. as much as mizu fronts as a combative, snarky, and abrasive person, she is also deathly afraid of conflict and abandonment with/from those she truly loves and cares about. that is to say, she wouldn’t want to get into an argument with you about how she needs to take care of herself better. she prefers to close her eyes and just listen to your breathing as it slowly evens out, leaving you unaware of her ploy. unbeknownst to her, you are aware of this “secret” scheme, and you let her get away with it. after all, it’s just another way that she tells you that she loves you, without expecting anything in return.
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biceratops7 · 1 year
Text
I’m gonna SCREAM-
We’ve already established as a fandom that Metatron could teach a masterclass on gas lighting, but I wanna talk about how he specifically validates the things Aziraphale cares for while simultaneously devaluing them under the surface.
First off, this moment?
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Tells us everything we need to know. It sets the scene for exactly the games Metatron is playing. He makes Muriel feel important while openly insulting them (flat out calling them stupid), aka seamlessly reinforcing the idea that they’re less than to both them and anyone else in the room. He knows he can get away with this easily, he knows that Muriel, lonely, overlooked little Muriel, will be completely distracted by the fact that someone so important is taking an interest in them.
This is already horribly clever, but then later on you realize it’s doing even MORE heavy lifting when he appoints Muriel to run the bookshop. “See? What’s important to you is what’s important to me! I’ve graciously taken the time to ensure your beloved shop is looked after by Muriel. You know, the dim one!” …let’s suffice it to say he’s ensnared too birds with one net for this one, and that a pattern is already starting to arise.
So when Metatron says Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he’s a “natural leader” and “doesn’t just tell people what they wanna hear”? Yah he’s full of shit. Aziraphale struggles with his sense of purpose when he doesn’t have someone or something guiding him, and for thousands of years he’s been terrified of sharing his true feelings and opinions to 90% of people he’s known. Completely just trying to butter him up. Wanna know the real reason Gabriel seeks asylum with Aziraphale?
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Exactly this. Gabriel just says so point blank. It’s not because Aziraphale is this person for him, it’s because despite knowing nothing, he has this instinct that Aziraphale is the only one who can possibly understand why Gabriel did what he did. He is, I mean as far as we know, the only other angel who has fallen in love. (In general, let alone with a demon.)
But nope, can’t have that. We can throw the promise of restoring Crowley in the mix to sweeten the pot, but we can’t acknowledge why he’d want that so badly in the first place. So now it’s cause they work so well together. We can praise the angel for the fallen archangel Gabriel himself coming to him protection and guidance, give him a gold star. But we couldn’t DARE imply that it was by virtue of Aziraphale’s courage to choose earthly love over heavenly. How Gabriel didn’t need a leader, but a friend who’s truly known the joys of adoring that “particular person” and the pain of needing to hide it.
Cause then Aziraphale would start getting crazy ideas, like that his silly little human feelings have a great deal of worth. That they have the power to inspire, form cracks in the institution, fundamentally weaken what has controlled and harmed him. We wouldn’t want him to know the true value of the cards he holds when he has the ace in a match against you, now would we? After all…
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Metatron uses this ingeniously sinister tactic of taking away Aziraphale’s choice while giving the illusion that he’s actually opening up doors. Notice how he tells Aziraphale he would have the authority to do something as extraordinary as turn a demon into an angel, yet he never once puts the much simpler alternative of just working with a demon on the table? The sleight of hand here is that he’s being offered the opportunity to freely be with Crowley… but he’s already freely with him as is, no bargain to be made. In fact he fought to be. Metatron disappears this accomplishment right before our eyes, while seamlessly maintaining the illusion to Aziraphale that he (Zira) is in control.
He sets Aziraphale up for failure by only providing the option he knows Crowley will not only decline but be deeply hurt by. It’s all so cleverly planned. Once this plays out exactly how he wants, he delivers the finishing blow by diminishing Crowley and his “damned fool questions”. Suddenly doing a complete 180 and emphasizing how foolish and troublesome he is. Metatron was offering Crowley by Aziraphale’s side as The Carrot. Now he’s telling Aziraphale it was stupid of him to want The Carrot, un-heavenly.
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Aziraphale’s life, love, happiness, it’s all not only a massive inconvenience for Metatron but a liability. He has successfully taken a weapon from Aziraphale’s hands he didn’t even know he had. Metatron sees the writing on the wall, and he wants it contained.
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࣪ ˖✧ Sweet Coffee
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✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: The morning after Sean's return party, a sheepish Arthur faces the consequences of his drinking excess. ✦ Warnings: None, this is as fluffy as the first part. ✦ Words: 3,9k ✦ a/n: This is a sequel of this one shot! Please, read it before this one :) Also, I've taken the liberty to write this as if Arthur still had Boadicea, to me it was the best way to make him have a canon horse. Gonna think about a better solution in the future.
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You opened your eyes, slowly. The ceiling of your tent was turning a bit, your heart feeling like it was on the verge of leaking out of your chest. It was as if your bed was a boat, pitching with the winds and the waves; you had to prevent yourself from throwing up, a spinning sensation making your guts feel rancid.
Water. Coffee. Breakfast.
You thought to yourself while stretching in your cot, every fiber of muscles in your body feeling worn. Your brain was mushy, unable to form any complex reflection, your forehead hurting, your mouth dry. The consequence of every party; the goddamn hangover.
Water. Coffee. Breakfast.
You slowly sat at the edge of your bed, taking the time to move your tired members, realizing your throat was extremely sore. You probably sang a little too much last night. You get up and walk to the little cleaning area of your tent which consisted of only a simple table topped with a little mirror, a bucket of water, and a solitary towel. Nothing fancy, but at least you had your own tent, which was already a grand luxury at camp.
Water. Coffee. Breakfast.
You take long sips of water from the bucket before cleaning up your face, looking at it in the mirror. Of course, under your eyes, big shady circles, sickles of violet darkness under the sharp radiance of your pupils. It was part of the whole hangover package. You quickly fixed your hair and put on some fresh clothes, mindlessly.
Coffee, breakfast, Arthur.
Wait, what? You thought you were going on with your morning routine thoughtlessly, but here he was. Always following you, a shadow in the back of your mind; his stupid smile like imprinted on the obscure abyss of your psyche, shining, blazing, magnificent. Haunting.
You were thinking about him very often lately, maybe too often, you noted to yourself. John's word had sealed your opinion's fate on the matter: Arthur could have behaved that way with any other girl at camp.
And yet. Yet you longed for it, for last night to mean something, anything. For you to be more than just any girl to him. For the drunken honest words he had spoken before drifting away in the sweet caress of sleep to be true. You sighed. Too much false hope would lead your heart to be even more broken, you knew it.
And yet. The shadow of his smile. The sound of his deep, powerful laugh. Following you everywhere as you got out of your tent, eyes narrowing at the bright light of the day, almost as bright and vibrant as the subject of your thoughts; almost.
Your path led you more by habits than by an actual decision of yours to the campfire next to Pearson's wagon, and you were delighted to see one of your obsessive needs was already there: a hot coffee pot, releasing a small puff of smoke had been prepared. Blessed was the divine human being who made it. You took a cup and poured some of the holy providential liquid into it, the mere smell of it already waking you up a little bit. The taste was strong, bitter; rough like your life was as an outlaw in a gang, but at least it would help you clear your head and maybe get a certain someone out of it.
As you sipped on the warm beverage, you took a look around at your surroundings. The camp offered you a pitiful but quite amusing sight. It was a real mess, as if a tornado had passed by and turned everything upside down. The Ocean of empty bottles was still present, spilling everywhere between the different people's tents. People who were slowly emerging from them, with tired eyes and ruffled hair, some of them speaking more quietly than usual, rubbing their temples, navigating through shattered glass and chaos of debris, remnants of the agitation that had taken place the night before. You chuckled to yourself. One of the more feared gangs in the West? Certainly not after a party.
Abigail was already starting to clean the pieces of glass, getting angry about how this wasn't a proper place to raise her kid. Honestly, she was right, and you wanted to help her. Ms Grimshaw would probably force you to anyway, and this idea was reinforced when you noticed her from afar, already yelling at Karen to get up and start the cleaning.
Before getting attention from the strict woman, you took a step to go and do your part but stopped in your tracks. A familiar rugged face had appeared from his tent and was heading up in your direction.
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Arthur was feeling too much. Too much sensations, too much feelings, just way too much of everything. His thoughts were trying to work as fast as he could considering his slowed brain, the aftermath of his excess from last night preventing him from being as efficient as normal.
The main focus of his reflection was you. He was obsessed to know what had happened, to understand why he had so many memories about you from last night, and quite intimate ones. He was praying he didn't do anything stupid with you; were you two even okay? Had he offended you? Had he been respectful? He needed to know, he needed to make sure he hadn't screwed everything up between you two. And at the same time, he was ashamed. So ashamed of having drunk so much he wasn't even able to remember what had happened. He was so anxious to confront you about it. To hear the truth, hear you say he had been a pig, and you'd never want to see him again, because that was probably what had happened. He was convinced of it.
As he saw you drinking your morning coffee by the fire from his cot, he quickly had changed, tried to clean up a bit, and made sure he had nothing stuck between his teeth or anything else of that type that could make him pass for an even bigger fool than he already was. He had chosen one of the less damaged shirts he had, a simple green but at least not holey flannel, all his clothes being more or less in a bad state anyway. Two leathered suspenders on, keeping black basic pants from falling. Damn, his reflection in the mirror looked even uglier than usual with his lack of sleep and post-party face. He sighed deeply, screw it. He needed to talk to you, at all costs, he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything else properly otherwise. He tried to actually brush his hair, a thing he never bothered to do normally; he even tried to use some hair pomade, combed them in all directions possible, anything to make them look less messy. Nothing was working. He sighed again, getting angry, and just decided to put his hat on to hide this disaster.
This was already too complicated and he hadn't spoken any words yet.
Now walking straight to you, every step he took was followed by a worried thought, his heart tightening more and more as he was getting closer to the campfire you were standing next to. What had he done? Were you mad at him? Would you even agree to speak to him? Did he look good enough? Shit, he probably still must reeks of whiskey, he should have gone to town and taken a bath, stupid moron! But it was too late. Your eyes had crossed his, you had seen him approaching. There was no going back.
Finally arriving at the campfire, the poor nervous man stood at a respectful distance from you and cleared his throat. He didn't even had taken the time to think about what to say. Moron.
"G'd mornin', Y/N." He greeted you, his tone almost a bit too formal, a trace of his troubled state. His voice sounded huskier and harsher than what he wanted to, you were the first person he actually talked to since waking up and you could hear it with how hoarse his vocal cords were.
Besides it, you couldn't have guessed how much was going on inside his head; his expression was as neutral as usual, his own way of defending himself against the flurry of feelings that was taking place inside of him. You smiled at him, a mischievous, playful smile. You had so much to tease him about. Before the party, you two would already messed with each other a lot, and now you had a whole night of details you could use for it.
"Good morning, Mister Morgan... Guess someone was a little thirsty last night, mmh?" You answered, looking at him. His eyes crossed yours, he cracked up a smile too. His shoulders seemed to go down a bit, less tensed. In reality, he was so relieved to hear you tease him and to see your smile. You weren't mad. He silently thanked the Lord for that.
"I, erm... Maybe I drank a little t'much..." He replied with an embarrassed grin, his eyes looking at his feet before planting them back right into yours. He decided to ask you right away. Arthur never beat around the bush, this time was no exception. "L'sten, I don't... I don't remember much 'bout last night and... I hope I didn't bother ya."
His bright blue pupils were looking intensely into yours as he waited for your answer. He always looked at people like this, always keeping eye contact, as if it was a quiet duel and he would lose it if he stopped; but God, it made your heart melt a little.
"Oh, Arthur." You started, smiling some more realizing he was actually worried about you. "Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong. To me at least. I remember you losing your nerves and punching Micah in the face." You answered his question, chuckling in the end.
"Why, this bastard had it comin'..." Arthur replied, scratching the side of his jaw, the slight grin still present on his lips, telling himself that it was definitely something he was capable of.
"You sing pretty good when you're drunk..." You added, tone playful.
Arthur sighed, he was enjoying more and more of this conversation he had feared in the beginning.
"Oh stop it, I don't." He retorted, his fingers scratching one last time before falling to his belt, both his hands gripping it, a standing position he often had when talking and didn't know what to do with his arms. Honestly, you were quite fond of it.
"You want some coffee, songbird ?" You questioned with a teasing tone, already grabbing a new cup and the pot. You knew he would say yes.
"Yeah, thank you." He replied at first, before frowning. "Don't ya start calling me that!" He added with a firmer tone, but his small smile was still stuck on his face while grabbing the hot cup you were handing to him.
"You're also quite a dancer..." You teased him once more with your mischievous voice, knowing you were pushing his limits with your remarks.
"Damn it, woman! Can't believe I was worried 'bout ya, while ya're teasin' me like this..."
"Yeah, I'm such a nasty woman..."
"Nah, you're the sweetest." He corrected you, a bit too quickly for it to be innocent. A quick, subtle flicker in his eyes showed you he was surprised with himself; the words had come out on their own.
You smiled widely, cheeks turning a bit red. You were praying it wasn't too obvious to him. Arthur was still looking at you, two indigo miniature seas fixated on you, even while drinking his beverage. The more he was, the more those vivid memories he had were making their way back to his mind. While looking at your waist, he remembered having held it at some point during the party, which explained how he learned how your clothes felt underneath his fingers. His breath quietly hitched when he realized how he knew about the softness of your leg: he recalled having an arm curled up around it at the end of the night. Shit... He really had been unruly. After a short silence, Arthur spoke again. He wanted to make sure, he needed to make sure.
"Erm... Can I ask ya if we... Did anythin' happen b'tween us while I was drunk ?"
"No, you've just been a bit... Tactile. But nothing happened." You answered his question honestly, wanting him to know the truth. After all, Arthur was your friend, and there was a whole step between gently teasing and actually tormenting him. "Oh and, you said you loved me."
Arthur almost choked on his coffee, a short strangled sound escaping from his throat, some drops of the hot liquid falling on his shirt. The only decent shirt he had was ruined. But it was the least of his problems. What the actual Hell had gotten into him? He was an even worse fool than he thought, and the bar was already low.
"I... What ?" Were the only words he was able to form, one of his hands wiping the coffee from his chin.
"Don't worry, John told me you've made it a habit to tell women that when you're drunk, apparently. We don't have to make a bit deal out of this." You reassured him. He really looked ashamed of his behavior, and you didn't wanted to make him feel even worse.
But Oh Lord, if only you knew. If only you could have understood how much he wanted to make a big deal out of it; how much he had wanted to properly say those three words to you. He was almost disappointed in a way, that you were so quick to forget about it, as if it had been a simple joke to you, something amusing a drunkard had said in a moment of alcoholic eccentricity.
"Ah, alright. Well, I'm happy ya not mad at me." He simply added, honestly not knowing what to say or how to act anymore.
Tell her. Tell her she means the World to you. Tell her you have spoken the truth. This was the best chance you would have.
But the words were stuck, and as fast as a breeze would have swept away petals of flowers, Ms. Grimshaw asked for you with her usual severe call, and off you were gone, wishing him a good day and telling him he didn't have to worry about last night, even adding your typical teasing comments, advising him to join a choir were he could flourish his singing talent.
Looking at you walking off, he sighed again, calling himself a moron for at least the twentieth time since he had gotten up. Looking down at his cup of coffee, almost empty, just like the hurtful sensation he was experiencing right now inside his heart, he got angry again. This was enough. He threw the rest of the coffee on the ground, put the cup in his satchel out of habit, and walked straight to his horse.
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The afternoon passed slowly and quietly. You basically spent it tidying up the camp, the number of dishes almost twice as big as usual, and the endless amount of bottles and garbage looking like it was only getting larger the more you were cleaning them up. Thankfully, Ms Grimshaw had put every girl in camp to work too, and you weren't alone on your impossible task while the men were back on their usual activities, whether it was lazying around for Uncle and the Reverand, guarding camp for Bill and Charles, or going back on jobs for the others. You hadn't seen Arthur since your morning discussion with him, and you had concluded he probably had gone somewhere to do his own work. As the sun was getting down, the camp had ultimately taken back its usual appearance, and you were finally free from your chores.
You decided to go to the edge of the camp, behind the wagons, where the cliff was starting and was offering a breathtaking view of the mountains in front of you. At this time of day, in the dusky sun, the landscape was painted with beautiful golden and bronze colors, dazzling blend of warm tones, ephemeral treasure from the last sunrays of the day before the settlement of the night's darkness.
Lost in your contemplation, you didn't hear footsteps approaching. The shrill and recognizable sound of spurs along with the heavy stomping of a horse's hooves made you turn your head from the literal work of art you had under your nose, and your gaze fell on another one from a different nature; Arthur was walking up to you, holding Boadicea's reins into his hands, his blue gaze already fixated on you, slight frown on his forehead, looking as determined as if he was going in for a fight.
He looked different from earlier, you swore he was wearing a brand new shirt you had never seen, a fresh white one, and a black jacket which must have gone with a fancy suit. As he was heading towards you, you noticed and could smell he had taken a bath, and trimmed his beard more than usual. He looked neat, refreshed, it was quite unusual for him. You could feel how your blood was rushing at the simple sight of all this: he was undoubtedly handsome, as breath-taking as the landscape around you.
"Y/N." He greeted you with a determined voice, once he had come close to you. He let go of the reigns, letting his mare free, but she stayed right where she was and started to graze happily. He took his hat off and held it in his hands, probably out of politeness. Such a gentleman, as always around women. You had always found it quite endearing how rough he was but at the same time how respectful towards girls, complying with conventions just like an honest man would. However you were a bit confused, he had never bothered to do that with you before, only with the women he didn't knew.
"Arthur, are you alright? Did Trelawny force you to get clean up ?" You joked a bit, genuinely surprised by his appearance and sudden polite behavior.
"What? N-no..." He stuttered. He never stuttered. You could feel it flowing into you like last night: this terrible, powerful feeling of hope. Your whole being was filled with it as your eyes were glued to him, like a moth to a flame, like a moon to its celestial body.
"I erm... I got somthin' for ya." He said almost shyly. Shyly. You couldn't believe what you were witnessing. It was nearly too good to be true.
Maybe... Maybe the words he had spoken to you... Maybe his tactile behavior... Your thoughts were going entirely crazy, spiraling around the deep feeling that something really important was on the verge of happening. You watched, in awe, as Arthur turned his back to you in order to pull off from Boadiccea's saddle a gorgeous flower bouquet.
"I know it ain't much but... I've picked 'em for you..." He said quietly, his voice slow and deep as usual, but also a bit more vulnerable. You could see just how flustered he was, how unusual it was for him to put himself in such a situation. And it made you more happy than anything for such a long time. Your eyes, traveling from his insanely cute bashful face to the flowers, were now stuck on it. The colors were vibrant and surprisingly well-matched, almost like a painting, the petals going from deep red to a warm golden yellow. You couldn't prevent a deep blush from flushing your cheeks; it really was warming your heart.
"They're beautiful! Thank you so much..." You marveled, vision attached to his gift, admiring every detail about it. After a short moment, as you realized he had felt silent, you spoke again, a wave of boldness crashing onto you. He had made a step towards you, now it was your turn.
"Arthur... The words you said to me last night..." You began, your eyes slowly ascending to look at his again. To your surprise, you found him looking away.
Another hint, another glimmer of the internal storm of emotions Arthur was feeling right now. Your own heart started to beat faster; the blood flooding so fast in your veins at this point you're wondering how the hell your body is keeping it all up together without collapsing under the pressure.
Arthur doesn't answer. Instead, he simply looks back at you, a flash of apprehension in his turquoise diamonds. He stays silent, unable to say anything more. His own heart must be on the verge of bursting cause you recognize the faintest of red on his own cheeks and a little vein on his temple. What a sight, to have this grown man, one of the stronger men in the gang, probably the fastest gunslinger of the State, blushing because of you.
"Those words were true, right?" You finish your sentence with an encouraging expression and the softest smile you had.
Arthur exhaled, closing his eyes for just a few seconds before planting them back into yours and nodding. Still silent, still stoic, still nervous. The slight blush was unhurriedly spreading on his face just like a flaming stain of watercolor on a canvas. Your very own art piece.
"I love you too, Arthur." You finally confided to him, voice soft and low, as if it was a confession you would have told him in the middle of the night, intimate as secrets you'd both tell each other in the ear while lying together in the same bed, arms interlaced, heart intertwined, as everything around you both would disappear. And in the moment, for Arthur, everything did.
He carefully brought a hand on the side of your face, never breaking his deep starring until the last second, and slowly bent over to put his lips on yours. Every move he was making was measured, contained; the exact opposite of his unleashed behavior at the party. You could feel just how cautious he was in that moment, as if he was scared to hurt you, or make you flee.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, never letting go of the bouquet that was now hanging behind his back in your thankful right hand. His own was still on your head, fingers gently caressing your skin as the kiss was dragging on. His lips, although chapped, felt good against yours, taking their rightful place there.
After what felt like an eternity of sweetness, he pulled back. If you thought he was blushing before, it was nothing compared to his cheeks right now, the deep crimson shade having completely recovered the canvas. Finally, his body's muscles relaxing, his features softening, a big, wide smile appeared on his face; the same that had been haunting you since the night before. The stupid smile. Just for you.
"I love you too, for real I mean." He let out in a soft drawling voice, once you had never heard coming from him. He brought his forehead to rest against yours, closing his eyes, not even processing this was really happening.
"I hope you'll sing again for me, Arthur." You couldn't help but add, a playful tone and a slight smirk on your lips.
"For ya, maybe, sweetheart. But don't ya come complainin' about the rainin' after."
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amaya-writes · 1 year
Note
Can I request headcanons with L, Light and Mello with a s/o who's a genius (like them) but acts stupid (like bimbo-ish) just to annoy people?
Notes: I'm SO sorry I took forever to get this out!
Warnings: n/a just fluff
Characters involved: L, Light, Mello
Gender-neutral reader, you/yours
L
Finds you intriguing.
You're like a puzzle to him. He wants to figure out your motives and understand why anyone would willingly act this way.
It doesn't take him long to understand you're smarter than you let on, however, your reasoning puzzles L a lot.
If you met him during the events of Death Note he immediately decides you're an asset and takes you to his side. You're like the Misa to his Light.
Your job would be to survey Misa, work in the same places as her, join her on any jobs. Since you're good at faking your bimbo personality you easily get along well with her.
At first Light even falls for the guise but with time he realises you're smarter than you look.
Even after Light understands your true personality L still keeps you around to help out. He often takes you with him when he's stalking surveying people and would even ask your opinions on the situation.
At first he used to find you annoying and his opinion of you was very similar to his opinion of Misa. However, with time L starts to find your interactions with others sort of amusing.
He sees your personality as a game, but outside of the Kira case he doesn't really interact with you.
To him, you're just another factor in the case.
Light
Hates it.
Unlike L, Light takes slightly longer to catch on to your personality.
You meet through Misa since you are friends with her. At first, Light presumes you're just like the other girls Misa works with but as time goes on he realises your true potential.
He only gets interested in you once you confess you think he's Kira.
Light's first instinct is to kill you but he refrains from doing so since he thinks he could use you. To him, you're just another pawn he can control to win against L.
L might have some semblance of a bond with you but Light only sees you as an object for his schemes. If he feels that you won't be easily manipulated then he doesn't bother associating with you since you are no use to him.
However, if you are easily swayed his way then Light uses you as an unsuspecting source for information.
With L and the rest of the team constantly hovering over his shoulder Light needed someone on the outside to help him execute his schemes.
Over time he comes to appreciate your wit as it makes it easier to carry out his plans. However, he still expects you to listen to him and hates when you get too creative.
He sometimes wishes you were the one with the Death Note instead of Misa because that would make everything happen so much more smoothly.
He expects you to have your regular personality when interacting with him. If you act like a bimbo when it's just the two of you he gets visibly annoyed.
While you are a genius like him you don't posses the almost inhumane lack of empathy Light is known for, which is why you don't realise the bond you share with him is purely that of a master and his pawn.
Mello
A mixture of the two.
Like L, he finds it weird that you would want to act like a bimbo especially since being a genius is something he always strived for growing up.
To him it's almost like you don't value the skillset his entire life revolves around.
However, he also sees the value in your mannerisms.
Unlike Near, Mello chose to associate himself with the mafia, that meant he needed trustworthy allies who he could rely on to get the work done.
At first he sees you as just another one of the bimbos his men would use as flings and then discard of, but after a few days he realises your true intentions.
You played the role of the innocent girl hopelessly in love with a mafia man yet in reality were using them for your fulfillment. (This can be anything from stealing from the guy you were with to leveraging his connections to complete some personal vendetta.)
Once Mello realises your true persona his first instinct is to get rid of you.
There is only space for one genius in his circle and he can't risk being potentially overthrown.
However, you make him see the value in having you around.
With time, you, Mello, and Matt become a team of sorts. You become a trio known for controlling the mafia groups.
Most people simply presumed you were Mello's bimbo girlfriend he kept around for eye-candy, which made it easy for him to use you to get what he needed.
However, unlike Light, Mello knows the value of having reliable allies (like Matt). He never really places his full trust in you, but with time Mello comes to appreciate you.
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reareaotaku · 1 month
Text
Enemies 2 Friends to Something More
Summary: When a girl in his class corrects him, Ford decides that he will go through any lengths to one her up like she seems to do so often to him. Tw: Slight NSFW [Would anyone even read NSFW work of him?]
Linktree 4 the People of Palestine
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Ford had never been corrected before, because he's never been wrong. So, when he was sitting in class one day and had gone to answer a question, only for a h/c haired girl to correct him. Ford wasn't necessarily mad, more so confused, because he thought he was right. Though, when he went back and checked his numbers, he realized the girl was right. That was fine. Sometimes people were wrong and he's at college to learn, so maybe it's good that there's someone with the same level as intelligence as him.
But then... It happened again. It was a little more embarrassing for it to happen again, but he tried not to think to much about it. That was UNTIL it happened for a third time. That time he was annoyed.
He looked back at you as you smirked down at him. You took joy in his embarrassment, that's what he believed, and it bugged him to his very core. He had to get you back. He wasn't sure how, but he would.
---
Ford stayed up late last night, having finally crafted the perfect question that he knew would stump you. Instead of bringing it up in class, he wanted to talk to you personally, because the question was made for you, no one else.
So, after class, Ford made sure to call you back, having learned your name from his roommate, Fiddleford.
"Y/n!"
You looked back at the sound of your name to; Only to be surprised when seeing it was Stanford Pines.
"Stanford?"
"Call me Ford."
You sigh, looking him up and down. "Okay, F-o-r-d," You stretch out the letters of his name. "What is it you want?"
"Can I not talk to a fellow classmate?"
"Oh, Ford, don't be silly. I know you want something. I see how angry you get when you get something wrong. You clearly want something from me."
He holds his ands up in surrender. "You caught me. I actually... wanted to discuss a-" He tsks. "theory- Question if you will. If you're willing to occupy my company."
"I do like intelligent conversation and you're the most intelligent guy here, so I guess I can give you some time."
He smirks, happy that the trap had been set.
---
He pulls out multiple papers, putting them on the table, before looking up at you. You looked at him confused why he would have so many papers.
He goes on and on about the theory of life and what the purpose of all living things are. While you were confused on the topic, since he wasn't asking for your opinion, you were amazed by his passion on the topic. It seemed he wanted to prove something to you- Prove that he was a genius.
It wasn't like you didn't know that. Everyone that knew Ford or interacted with him knew he was genius, so you were confused why he felt the need to prove it to you.
You thought he was kind of cute. Going on and on. You kind of wanted to fuck him. Your face turned a light pink when the thought entered your mind.
"What do you think?"
"What?" You were caught off guard, since your mind was occupied.
"About life."
"I- uh, never really think about that stuff?"
"You have no opinions about it?"
"Uh, I mean, you've said every thought that I have." You lean in, a stupid smile overtaking your face.
"Yeah?" Ford's face turned a light pink when having your face close to his. He could almost kiss you... Almost... He wanted to- I mean, he admired how intelligent you were, and he felt you were one of the only people he could have a real conversation with without dumbing himself down. He would have kissed you if a book wasn't slammed down at the end of the table, causing Ford to glare at the person, Fiddleford.
"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
You sit back in your seat and smile, "No. Uh, no. I was going to go anyway. I'm sure my roommate is waiting for me." You turn to Ford, "I'll see you... later?"
"Yeah. I'll see you."
---
Ford stared at his ceiling, his alarm clock the only light in the room. He couldn't keep his mind off of you. He wished he had kissed you or something. It would have been the perfect moment. So, why didn't he?
He could feel his body heat up as his thoughts got more intense. He pulled one of his pillows out from under him, before slamming it against his face, hoping to rid himself of the thoughts. God, how was he supposed to see you again knowing what he felt?
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am-i-interrupting · 6 months
Note
Hello! I'd like to request a little scenario thing with all the hazbin hotel characters you write for. This will probably sound stupid, but I just got my nails done for the first time ever, and I was thinking about how the hazbin crew might react cause I have been so excited to show them off!
If you don't want to do all of the characters, then I totally get it, I mainly want Husk and Vox. (And angel dust, but I'm not sure if you write for him)
Romantic pls!!!! Thank you so much if this is considered!!
You’ve unknowingly poked at an interest of mine. If ya care to know, I’m actually about to start school to become a nail technician next month.
(Part two— the gals)
Alastor
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Alastor noticed immediately and was curious.
He’d grab your hand and carefully examine each fingernail.
He’d compliment the color and design.
He might question the shape and length, mainly for function purposes.
If you got acrylics, he would question how you planned to get things done and laugh during your adjustment period.
If you ever poked your eye (especially if you got stiletto nails), he would smile and say something along the lines of “Well, what did you expect, my dear?”
He does love how they make you happy though.
Not enough to not make fun of you when they cause you to fuck something up, but enough to accompany you to the salon a time or two.
He’d hover over your shoulder and watch everything the poor nail tech did, questioning everything with a genuine interest.
He would not help you if your nail broke off despite this though.
His interest is just fleeting and a want for knowledge and once again, “What did you expect, my dear?”
Husk
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Husk looked at people’s hands a lot.
He’s a gambler and a slight of hand expert. It’s second nature.
He picks up instantly and makes sure to give you a gruff comment about how they look.
He didn’t expect you to light up and stick your hand in his face but he wouldn’t complain. He likes seeing you happy.
He will be honest with you when you ask for his opinion on the color or design.
Don’t expect him to sugar coat it. If he thinks the colors clash or the design isn’t good past a first glance, he lets you know.
Over time he becomes sort of casually knowledgeable about the subject.
At least to the point where if you ask him for a design idea, he’d give you a pretty damn good one and even be able to decide between if matte or gloss top coat would look better.
His favorite shapes are the coffins.
They’re blunt enough to not scratch but sharp enough to itch.
He will be just attention seeking enough for you to notice when you get him.
Give him scratches between the eyes and bridge of his nose with them and he’s a fucking goner.
Lucifer
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He probably wouldn’t notice at first unless you told him or until he grabbed your hand while cuddling.
It’s not that he doesn’t care. He very much does care. However, he’s not the most observant unless it’s an obvious change.
As soon as it’s come to his attention though he is fawning.
He will absolutely gush over your nails.
Compliments everything, the color, the shape, the design, the length. Just absolutely everything.
He’s asking you how they make you feel and listening to you with a love-sick smile.
He would be willing to go get his nails done with you.
Very surprised at how relaxing he found it and how much he liked it. Will go with you again.
Vox
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He notices something is up almost immediately.
If you didn’t burst into his office as soon as you walked out the salon, then he noticed when you went to bed. Or more accurately, he went to bed.
He works a lot of late nights to maintain his image so in all likelihood, you were probably asleep when he got home.
Crawling into bed with you, you roll over to cuddle with him, give him a kiss, and rub your hand down his arm or chest.
He’d grab it, feeling something different immediately, even if you just got polish, but you were already back asleep.
The next morning he’d mention them as you both got ready for the day.
I can see him drinking coffee as he watched you talk about your nails, absolutely smitten.
He would always demand to see your nails when you got new ones.
“Alright, what have you got this time?”
He would give his honest opinion on what he thought.
No holding back with this man.
Would provide you with the money to get any style, design, whatever you want.
He just loves seeing you happy.
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jjkeremika · 10 months
Text
AoT men confess their love for you
i.e., how i think they’d tell you they love you
reader x Eren, Jean, Armin, Reiner, Porco, Erwin, Levi, Zeke, Bertoldt
*unspecified gender reader*
Eren - blurts it out during sex and you can’t convince me otherwise
You and Eren weren’t really dating, per se… more like… hooking up behind your best friend’s back. The fact that Mikasa was his sister and your best friend was enough to keep both your urges at bay for a few months, but when she left for summer camp and he stayed behind, leaving just you two to keep each other company… well… things took on a life of their own.
So for the whole summer you and Eren gallivanted around the districts over, going on unlabelled dates and hiding from those (Armin, Jean) who just might tell Mikasa about the tryst, because maybe telling her was just too fast or too complicated for the easy and noncommittal situationship.
Which felt like exactly that… until you were bouncing on his cock in the back of his car, his mouth attached to your neck and your fingers curled in his hair. He thrusted upwards, evoking a loud moan from you, when Eren suddenly blurted out, “I think I love you,” with a hearty breath, his hips never stuttering as he kept the motion, his mouth compensating for the words by pressing to your neck.
Maybe it was time to call your best friend.
Jean - it slips out and he tries to deflect it but you already knew
You met Jean during volunteer community service, where you and the awkwardly-tall brunette would leisurely walk around the districts and collect litter. The first day everyone was set off in pairs, you two randomly assigned to wander the same district, and you both actively decided to group together every time after that.
Your conversations were rarely of any importance, mostly letting it serve as either a way to pass time or to express feelings and opinions about people the other doesn't know. At first, he talked an awfully lot about some woman who you weren't sure from his stories if she even knew he existed. Over the months of service together, he stopped bringing her up and started talking about this other person of interest instead.
His cheeks and ears turned bright pink whenever you'd ask about how he met this person, usually providing some vague and nondeterministic answer that honestly left you more confused than before. Some stuttered-out answers and a few too-similar-to-your-own interests later, you had a deep suspicion and debated how to delve it out of him.
It wasn't very hard. One week before the holiday break you two were wandering around, discussing future plans with friends and family for the upcoming holiday. "Are you excited for the break?" you asked, nudging his side with your elbow. "Huh?" he responded curiously, "Oh, I... Yeah, I guess." You snorted in response, "Sounds like it. C'mon, the holiday is a time for being with your love ones! Isn't that exciting?"
"But I only see them not on break, during volunteerin--" It was almost like he'd forgotten who he was speaking to, and his entire face erupted in various shades of pinks and reds, maybe even a light purple from the lack of breathing. He was internally kicking himself, berating himself for being so loose and stupid around you, for always struggling to think around you. He was oblivious to the smile on your face. "I, uh, because, I... love volunteering... so much."
Armin - tells you he's in love with you because you've changed his life (he’s poetic without meaning to be)
Armin was unusual from other men you’ve dated. Height aside, he was very in touch with his emotions, intelligent, and capable; but he tormented himself with baseless insecurities and unfounded truths until all of his perks were equally weighed down by his shortcomings. He’d bring himself down until he was impossibly low, until his opinion of himself couldn’t get lower.
He was depressed when you first met, his friends warning you that maybe it was beyond you, that it wasn’t your responsibility anyway. You knew that, of course, but it was Armin, and it’s difficult to watch sunshine be forced behind endless seas of clouds. So you’d remind him as much as possible to be kinder to himself, to speak to himself positively since he’s the only one who he will spend forever with.
It wasn’t a surprise when your relationship advanced; the effort and care you put in him nurtured feelings beyond friendship. The warmth spread inside him like a wildfire from a lit match in dry brush, and he found himself favoring you over any form of logic or reason.
It was a random weekday when he pulled you aside, trying to make time for a brief 5 minute date between lessons. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t necessarily odd, but he’d become significantly more comfortable around you over the years. “I, uh,” he started unsurely, hesitantly, “You mean so much to me. I can't imagine this life without you. I..." He crossed his forearm over his stomach as he anchored his shaky hand on the inside of his other arm's elbow, holding it tightly to stop his body from shaking as he angelically stared into your eyes. "I’m in love with you. And I don’t mean that poetically or sexually or theoretically or logically or figuratively or ideologically or any of that. I mean it literally. I am in love with you.”
Reiner - tried to act like he didn’t care but he was really invested in your response
You had been casually dating around when you first met Reiner, the tall bulky blond with the bordering-arrogant demeanor having approached you at the bar while your date was in the bathroom. He had a confident smirk plastered across his cheeks as he said, “You know, my wallet has been itching to buy the most stunning person in this room a drink, and, well, I think I’ve found them.”
It shouldn’t have worked but you’d had a few drinks already and a new heat burned in your abdomen and he was significantly more attractive than your current date, so you accepted his invitation to buy you a new drink and take the seat. A second first date of the night, completed with a quick fuck in the bathroom and at home.
Your relationship progressed smoothly from then on, with a heavy positive emphasis in the bedroom. And while neither of you ever clarified the relationship and asked if it was official, your eyes and lips and privates were so glued to each other there was no peripheral for any one else. Which was why, while Reiner never explicitly stated how he felt for you aside from daily comments--"My god, baby, you are so sexy,"; "Mmf, you make me feel too fucking good, darlin', fuck,"; "Sexiest person alive, yeah. you already know I'm speaking about you and your smart sexy ass,"--you were never really that worried anyway.
So when you two were laying on your backs in the bed, side-by-side, chest heaving to catch your breaths, and the words slipped from his mouth post-coitus, "Fuck, darlin', I love you," you were shocked, and a, "What did you say?" slipped from your mouth before you could process. He bit the inside of his lip and felt a nervous weightlessness erupt in his stomach. Reiner shrugged and sat upright, blocking his face from your view with his back. "Huh? Didn't hear me?" Reiner asked, forcing his voice to remain confident and steady, and turned to look at you briefly before stirring to stand up. He shrugged, the inside of his cheek rough and chewed up like a dog-toy. "I just said I love you. It's not a... big deal."
Porco - says it like a joke so you aren’t totally sure if he means it
Galliard was your best guy friend, joining you anywhere you didn’t want to go alone and cracking jokes to lighten the mood. He was really good at that, making you laugh, and he couldn’t deny that the sound was like music to his ears, magical notes strung together to create the most beautiful song he’d ever heard.
It was exactly because of how close you two were that both of you feared doing exactly what you wanted the other to do—make the first move. And because it was the other one, every flirty touch or suggestive comments were stripped of all intention, because there’s just no way the best friend would ever be into them too. Instead, it was personally replaced with sarcastic or playful undertones and purposeful reminders of feelings that didn’t exist.
You had convinced him to go to the lake with you, which your friends conveniently bailed on so that it really was just you two. Porco had hopped into your kayak from the dock, taking you by surprise and fearing a capsize. “Porco!” you screamed, giggling, holding onto the edge of the kayak, “What’s wrong with your own kayak? Desperately trying to get close to me?”
You watched the adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed intently, like he was carefully choosing when to breathe and what to say. “Haha, yeah,” he settled on, forcing himself to chuckle lightly, his voice littered with nuanced feelings he couldn’t bring himself to say confidently, “because I’m definitely in love with you…” You noticed Porco’s lack of eye contact, that he was now looking far off into the distance. “Or something like that,” he joked nervously, wiping his sweaty palms against his thighs as he sat down behind you, hoping you couldn’t see through his charade.
Erwin (age gap) - planned it out but everything didn’t go to plan
After six months together, Erwin already knew how strongly he felt towards you. You were everything he could’ve hoped for and everything he’d waited for. He already knew he wanted you as his future spouse (eventually, he knew you weren’t ready to marry). And so he wanted the moment he told you how he felt to be special to you, to be as special as you were to him.
Erwin had your six-month anniversary date planned out to the T: first, a leisurely walk around the park; second, a quick stop at a couple of your favorite shops nearby to browse and buy you a gift (or gifts, really, he’d buy whatever you wanted); third, stop in at the new bistro you’ve been dying to try—“Ooh, Winnie, look, look! We have to go there!”; fourth, walk around and watch the stars until your feet were sore and he could carry you home.
A sudden rainstorm ruined the walk, forcing both of you to run for cover under some trees for quite some time until it passed. Once the rain finally stopped, it was too close to the dinner reservation time to stop in at the shops, and he shuttled you to the bistro. You were both sat next to a loud family with screaming children, barely able to hear the other speak the entire time, staring at each other with morose smiles while munching on mediocre food. The stars hid behind thick dark clouds as you both walked home, and Erwin felt too defeated to ask to carry you because you were finally enjoying that brisk walk.
At your doorstep, when he profusely apologized for ruining your anniversary date—“Ernie, seriously? Stop apologizing! You can’t control the weather! And the restaurant was my idea anyway.” The frown lines on his face deepened and twisted in morose. “No, that’s not…” he sighed, upset that nothing had gone to plan, “I wanted everything to be the perfect night for my perfect person, a wonderful night solely for the one I love…” he added in a whisper, “…and I messed it all up.”
Inviting him felt like the only way to reverse his thoughts, to make him realize that, despite everything he considered so wrong, it was all so correctly wrong to you it may as well have been perfect.
Levi - thinks it should be obvious since he’s still with you
It was about subtlety when dating Levi. At least, that’s what you’d figured out in the year you’ve been together. His face was relatively expressionless, so you’d learned to read his body language, but you honestly worried you’d never be fluent, because you still questioned the presence or validity of his feelings for you on some days.
He said it once, that he felt deeply for you on the day he asked you out. He repeated it on your six-month anniversary, when you asked if he still felt that way and he answered with a monotoned, “Well, yeah. Obviously. I thought it was implied since we’re together and all.”
Your favorite version of him was when he was sleepy, when he was too tired to keep his protective walls up, because he was cuddly and cozy and craved nothing but your presence and warmth and actively showered you with soft kisses.
It was when his guard was down like this that you asked him, on your one-year, if he still felt the same—shielding the fear of his answer by joking that you’ll ask him every six months—and he rolled his eyes playfully and chuckled, wrapping his arm tighter around you, kissing your cheek, and muttering, “Yes, love, and I’ll give you the same answer six months, six years, and six centuries from now.”
Zeke - writes you a love letter (unlike armin he tries to be poetic)
Zeke was into you well before you even started to reciprocate those feelings. There was something so enigmatic about you, a light airy aura that made him feel buoyant, that unchained him from the burden of his father’s wants and wishes. In his eyes, you saved him.
For a debt he felt he could never repay, he always brought you flowers and sweets and gifts; he wrote long poems detailing that your beauty was beyond all beholders, that you put the sun to shame, that you were the spark to start his supernova; he sent you good morning beautiful and sweet dreams baby texts, hoping you started and ended your day with a smile.
After a couple months of exclusive dating, he wrote you a love letter, expressing the extent of what you meant to him—the burning shape of you etched permanently in his heart—, handing it to you with a deep red stretched across his face and asking you to read it privately, to share it with no one.
My dearest beloved, I write as I know my tongue will fail me, reminiscent of all previous attempts where my lips part and only whimsy air escapes. Remember those moments, my dear? How you'd don a concerned expression and question me in my flustered state. Oh, how futile the intention feels when my spiritual body abandons me, rendering my physical body utterly useless in translation as my stoic invulnerability precedes me. Oh, how I yearn for you the way broken skin stitches itself back together, the way fibers of a wire stretch to hold on, to come together and remain as one. Oh, how you complete me the manner punctuation consummates these phrases, embedding the lines with a flourish no words could elicit. All your self-proclaimed flaws are null to the universe, your soul culminating as the true embodiment of pure perfection with flavorful cracks in the profile, cracks that you've offered to my pitiful soul, pristine ledges to hold on to as humanity crumbles from your grace. Oh, how if what you provide me with is god-like pity, how I want nothing more than for that bliss to fuel my burning heart, to further engulf my being with this feverish love, to only be quenched by your will.
Bertoldt - he’s shy, so his friends tell you for him
Look, really, no offense to Bertoldt, but, well, he never said a word. Which, like, what the hell? You could tell—or rather, you were pretty sure—he was into you by the way he tensed up when you were around, by the longing glances he’d cast your direction when you were nearby.
Holding conversations was difficult in an endearing way, because he was shy—painfully shy—around you, making small comments with a smile and pink cheeks, stuttering out small compliments and avoiding eye contact like he’d crossed a line (honestly you wished he’d crossed more).
You were starting to lose hope after months of talking led to little improvements, him still awkward around you, still not telling you how he really feels, if he likes you in that way. And like, how could you really be sure that he did if his hints were shit?
One day you receive a video message from Reiner, in it depicting Bertoldt and Porco sitting on a leather couch and talking—well, Porco wasn’t. Bertoldt was talking. A lot. About you. Talking about how you make him so nervous he freezes, how he finds you so attractive his body doesn’t know how to react, how he gets goosebumps on his neck at just the sound of your voice, how the secret love he had for you took up so much volume in his throat he couldn’t even speak or breathe near you.
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dipperscavern · 11 days
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dippy I’m sorry I’m a bit stupid I did not read either of the prompt bit 😭 but if possible could I just add a prompt to my previous Cregan bit? If so, ‘voices change around each other’, bc pookie would be all ‘👹👺fuck y’all I am the lord of winterfall RAGGHHH- Oh hi darling 🤗😘’
urs truly, ur very stupid cheeky anon
you’re ALL GOOD!! thank u for your congrats & i hope u enjoy!!
9. voices changing around each other (whether it deepens or their tone in which they speak changes)
ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ
in cregans defense, he was usually ever level-headed.
being lord of winterfell and warden of the north, you had to be — patience and understanding is cregans middle name. it’s not often he loses his temper, even less often is it unjustified when it happens, and right now, his men had royally fucked up.
winter is approaching, and with it, cregans main task has been securing enough food to last winterfell & its inhabitants for as long as necessary. the maesters can foretell when winter comes and summers ended, but how long winter lasts is never known. strengthening alliances with other houses, expanding food stores, implementing more farms and crop production — cregan had pushed everything else aside to ensure the security of the people.
even if it put pressure on cregans soldiers, his hard work had made it so winterfells’ food stores were filled to the brim — and cregan was looking forward to being able to cease his constant worrying about having enough to eat.
unfortunately for him, the gods see fit to test him once more.
one of his men hadn’t closed a food store properly, and wasn’t aware until cregan himself checked on it a few days later. by then, the food inside of it had rotted.
it wasn’t the guard himselfs fault, as one of cregans council members had failed to instruct the newly appointed guards on how to close the stores properly. in cregans opinion, error truly laid with his council. you cannot expect people to perform properly if not taught or instructed, and this was so simple a lesson, cregan felt frustration at the prospect of having to teach it.
“Am I to understand, that because of your err, we’ve been lessened an entire store?”
the men in front of him glance at one another, attempting to swallow their nerves. the food store was now being emptied in the background, as cregan had not waited to “properly” assemble in the council room. they stood outside, where cregans tone had deepened, the way it does when lord stark is angered (which is, thankfully, not often)
cregan pauses, waiting for a response, and is only offered a- “Yes, I’m afraid so, my lord….”
“Winter is almost upon us, and you intend on crippling me further. How are you meant to advise me if I must coddle you as a babe?” his tone is harsh, unforgiving. he thinks to hear ideas of solution, about what could be done, but cregan notices something else.
instead of looking at him, every man is looking past him instead. ‘have they no respect for their liege lord?’, a part of him whispers; but curiosity takes over. he turns around, and is met with you.
he blinks in surprise. “Wife.” he says, not expecting your presence. his tone is light now, airy — alike to the cregan that usually graces winterfell. the contrast in his voice from a moment ago to now would make some grin if they weren’t afraid of inciting more of their lords anger.
“I missed my lord husband at supper,” you say, as if nothing was even amiss. “You worried me, Cregan.”
cregans tongue darts out to wet his lip, momentarily forgetting about the men behind him. “That was not my intention, I-“ he cuts himself off, turning back for a moment to glance at the food store being emptied. he sighs, choosing his next words carefully.
“I shall join you momentarily.” he says, turning to face you once more.
you hum, reaching to interlock pinkies (you’re close enough to be discreet). you lean to look past cregans shoulders (a hard task), and you’re met with the faces of cregans council. instead of their usual smug-ness, their faces are a mix of awkwardness, discontent, and embarrassment. the sight of it only makes you smirk, and when you return to cregans gaze, you find a hint of bashfulness swimming in his pupils.
“Behave yourself, my love.”
cregan nods, and you shoot him one last knowing smile before you move to return to the castle.
your presence has calmed him, allowing him to think without the cloud of emotions hanging over his head. he turns back around, and shoots a look at his council before focusing all his attention on the nearby food store.
“What can be done?” he says, tone still edgy, but nowhere near what it was before. his council share an equal relief, grateful to their lady stark for her rescue.
ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ
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miley1442111 · 2 months
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Heyyyy are you still requests?? If yes..................
Last night i relived a painful memory when a loved person told me to shut up in front of our friend group and it was so humiliating and overwhelming, i went dead silent for the rest of the month but still played cool with everyone and everyone knew i was destroyed, wasnt leaving home that much yet and the person who told me to shut up was going trough some shit (ON THAT DAY) and actually never apologized...
SO SORRY FOR THE VENT BUT IT WAS NECESSARY FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR.
What if the reader is the one being told to shut up by none other than RAFE CAMERON who is a very close friend and he told the reader to shut up out loud in the middle of a party in front of your friend group (Kelce and Topper) and the reader also play it cool but it collapse at themself like a dying star and all their light is sucked by the black hole it became. But unlike real life, Rafe doesnt need people telling him he fucked up and he felt terrible and a few weeks later he sees reader on a party, unusually quiet, being dragged by their friends around trying to cheer reader up and the reader still trying to play it cool but the damage was showing and maybe Rafe take the chance to approach you but he doesnt know what to say or what to do so he acts like nothing happened?? IM SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUNSING I JUST WOKE UP AND I HAD TO WRITE THAT BEFORE THE MEMORY FADED. Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, just ignore it if you didn like ittt!! I love your writting btw i'll never forget that one ask i did and you answered about Rafe choosing between reader and a lover!!!!
and ask 2:
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talking too much- r.cameron
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a/n: HELLO to the both of you! thank you two so much for requesting, and very sorry that this happened to you :( I'd let you talk my ear off about anything any time :) (ps, great song choice)
pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader
summary: i suggest you look at the requests
warnings: reader kind of loses her spark, rafe is a confused and stressed asshole, reader becomes very insecure, feelings of not being good enough, rafe gets very stressed at the end (i think that's it?)
not entirely proofread
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It was finally nearing the end of June and you were planning your 4th of July party with your friends. Topper, Kelce, Rafe, you, Sarah, and a few of your other friends sat around the table, thinking up ideas for what parties to drop into, and what you were going to wear, etc. You were excited, that was no crime. You’d always been the most excitable in the group, it was just part of your bubbly personality, there was no issue with it. No one had ever been more than a little irritated with it before, no big deal. You’d just apologise and remember to tone it down for those people, but your closest friends weren’t those people. Your closest friends liked your personality, your closest friends liked you. It didn’t matter how loud you were. 
“And then I guess we’ll-”
“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe cursed.
The room went silent. You stood still, frozen as people’s eyes turned to you. Sarah offered a look of sympathy, she knew how much you valued Rafe’s opinion, especially since you had a slight crush on him. You felt yourself recoil. How could he be so rude? All you were doing was giving ideas to the group, it’s not like anyone else was trying to speak much, and Rafe definitely wasn’t adding to the conversation. At least, he hadn’t been for the past hour, just sitting in the corner with his leg bouncing and that stupid vein protruding from his stupid neck. You slumped back in your chair, embarrassment filling your mind as you thought over every other interaction with him and the group. Were you annoying? Did they all actually hate you? 
“I don’t hear you talking much Rafe,” Sarah shot back. “Something to say?”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Fuck off Sarah,” he scoffed and waited for you to bounce back and start speaking again. You didn’t. He looked up as the group started speaking again, going off of all the plans you’d started. You were just sitting there, on your phone. 
You just waited until someone actually asked you a question to give your input, and even then all you said was; “Sounds good.”
He’d fucked up. Big time. 
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It had been a week since ‘the incident’, and Rafe hadn’t seen you. He felt awful, absolutely disgraced after what he’d said. He was stressed, it was a bad moment, and he took it out on you. He was sorry. But how was he supposed to tell you that? How was he supposed to explain how sorry he was, explain that he was just stressed? How would you believe him? You two had never been the closest in the friend group, not to say you two didn’t speak, but you two weren’t exactly attached at the hip like you were with Sarah, or Kelce. All you’d ever been to him was nice, not something he was sure he deserved, but he appreciated it all the same. 
How could he get back to that?
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“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Sarah begged over the phone. 
“I’m tired, I was working all day-”
“Come on, you’ve been dodging all week! 4th of July is coming up, I don’t want to hang out with Kelce and Top without you,” she whined, 
“I’ll be there for the 4th, I’m just busy right now,” you sighed. “I promise I’m ok,” you lied. 
“If you’re staying home because of what Rafe said, I’ll kill him,” she swore. 
“I don’t give a shit about what Rafe said,” lie. “I’m just busy, promise.”
Sarah sighed. “Alright, see you on the 4th!”
And with that, you hung up. The last week had been one long pity-party that made you feel even worse about yourself, deciding that your friends were better off without you, especially when you can’t even bounce back from one tiny insignificant comment from one random guy. That’s what you thought anyway. But now, you had 3 days before the 4th, and you weren’t sure how you were going to get the courage to face any of them. 
Not that they hadn’t reached out. Everyone who was there (aside from Rafe) had called or texted to ask if you were ok, and apologised for not saying anything. Kelce had felt the worst, since he was supposed to be your best friend, and he hadn’t said anything. You brushed them off, promising them it was fine, promising them you were fine. They barely believed you, but you somehow convinced them that you were busy. You told half of them that you were packing for your move, and the other half that you had gotten a job at your mom’s company. I mean, technically you were a few weeks out from moving away and you should be packing, and technically you did just get a job at your moms’ company (managing the online presence and doing admin work), but really both those jobs were easy. You could’ve done them for a few hours, then seen your friends. But you didn't want to. You didn’t want to feel like a burden. 
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The day of the 4th rolled around and Sarah picked you up with all the girls in the group in her car. You looked gorgeous in your short red dress, at least that’s what Sarah told you. You kept your mouth shut as the girls gossiped and sang along to songs, only interjecting when truly necessary. When you got to the beach, you managed to break away from the girls and get a drink, standing alone as you watched the night go by. You liked people watching, you found it interesting to see the small micro-expressions on peoples faces, the snippets of their conversations, and everything in between. 
“Hi,” Rafe smiled softly. He was in front of you, blocking your view of the people you were looking at. 
“Hi,” you answered meekly. 
He stood there for a moment as you tried to look over his shoulder, but the group were gone. You sighed in defeat and turned around to pour yourself another drink. 
“How are you?” he asked. 
“Fine thanks,” you answered. “You?”
“Good, fine… yeah,” the awkwardness in his voice almost made you physically cringe. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“It’s been like a week?” you questioned. In the past week, Rafe had realised how much he missed you, and how much you added to the group. He missed how you brightened up everyone, how you kept the peace by being close with almost everyone, how you made him laugh. 
“What have you been up to?” He scratched the back of his neck, his nerves almost getting the better of him, almost making him turn around and not do this. Almost.
“Not much. Working, packing, usual stuff,” you shrugged. 
Rafe’s expression faltered. “Packing?”
“I’m moving in a few weeks,” you explained. “So you won't see me for a while.”
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 
Absolutely not. 
Rafe felt his stomach sink. “Why?”
“‘Why’ what Rafe?” you asked, genuinely confused. Why, out of all people, would he care?
“Where?”
“Just main-land, but a bit further into the city so I’m moving schools,” you shrugged.
“But it’s our senior year?”
“Yeah? And?”
“We all said we’d do it together, remember?”
“It wasn’t my choice to move,” you scoffed. “And also, why are you acting like this is new information? Tonight is my ‘last hurrah’ get-together. We’re doing the stupid sleepover.”
“W-what?”
“We didn’t invite you,” Sarah butted in. “You were a dick, now you reap the consequences.”
You rolled your eyes at the shocked look on Rafe’s face. “Night Rafe, see you around.”
Rafe stood frozen as you walked away, shocked. Had he really not been listening for so long? Had he really missed that? You were moving, you were gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. 
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obx masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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ptq3000 · 1 year
Text
bakusquad w/ quiet but caring fem!reader,pt.2
reader still got the portal quirk that allows her to make portals and teleport
> ok, so we know how bakugo is an aggressive cook. and even though he eats the food you prepare for the class, that doesn't mean he still won't critique you on it
> yes, you guys had multiple cook-offs, which by the way, you have another scoreboard in your room for it. is it necessary..? no. does it make you more competitive? yes. does it provide any other use than to make you want to beat bakugo? well, it looks pretty :))
> sero is a very refined judge in this cook competition that you and bakugo got going. you even got aizawa to also judge, having him as a 'guest star' as mina puts it
> other classmates like iida and yaoyarozu encourage the friendly competition. it is anything but friendly.
> you and bakugo are literally yelling at each other, him more than you. but it's probably the loudest the whole class has seen you and bakugo takes some pride in that
"bakugo, move!" you shout as the pot your holding feels hotter and heavier by the second.
"use your stupid quirk, portal freak." he retorts back at you. you huff as you do. setting the pot down on the other side of the counter, you mumble to yourself, "fat ass." "what did you say." he demands, glancing at you as he plates his food.
as you also plate 3 dishes, you smirk as you confidently repeat it. "i said, fat ass." you grin as you see his cheeks start to go pink. he grunts as he says, "wipe that smug look off your face, you extra."
> there's not enough love for sero, in my opinion
> whenever you and sero hangout one on one, you usually just prank bystanders or the cashier at the local convenience store.
> him with his tape quirk and you with your portal quirk, you make small portals behind people and sero shoots small bits of tape on people. harmless, right?
> you and sero did it this one time to a karen that was yelling at a server in a small cafe, and sero accidentally pointed upwards when he shot through your portal which...it uh..it accidentally grabbed her weave and pulled it off. the karen turned around so embarrassed and immediately looked at everyone as she grabbed her wig. it took all both you and sero's willpower to not burst out in giggles as she looked at everyone in the cafe.
> also, i feel like sero's dorm is the dorm you always go to when you want to be left alone. people always check your dorm first, so you made a habit of hiding in other people's dorms. mainly sero's.
> you always manage to fall asleep. you don't try to! honestly!! it just..happens.
as sero enters his dorm, his face shifts to fear when he sees a figure on his hammock in the dark. quickly going into a defensive state, he instinctively turns the lights on and he creeps closer to whoever or whatever is in his hammock.
"sero... it's too bright. turn the lights off," he hears you mumble.
he sighs and his face softens as he realizes that it's just you. again. for the third time this week.
"y/n, you scared me," he laughs as he continues. "warn me next time." he turns the lights off, and he grabs a spare blanket and lays it on top of you. "goodnight," you both say in unison. he can't help but smile at you as you start giggling to yourself. "jinx," you both say together again. both of you burst into laughing as your tired form sits up on the hammock to look at sero who's on the floor.
"sero." "what?" "jinx, you owe me!" "you little-"
> mina. oh, mina. as much as she loves herself, she also loves to take care of you. multiple skin care nights in her mess of a dorm. if you could even call it a dorm.
> most times, she invites jirou and the other girls over. she always finds comfort in her friends, so doing something she loves with her friends is the best to her. but if you had a stressful week and just want it to be the 2 of you, she's all for that too!
"stay still, babe," mina requests as she applies the last bits of the clay face mask on you.
you stay still, as quietly as you can. which is easy since you're always quiet. you close your eyes as you relax to let her finish her work.
"babe, i finished." you hear her and when you open your eyes, she's looking at you with pure adoration. you smile at her softly as she pulls out her phone. your face drops because you know what she's doing.
"now..pictures!!" she smiles devilishly as she quickly took a 0.5 picture of you. she snorts through her fits of giggles and you yank her phone from her. "no, don't delete it!! y/n! it's for the group chat!!"
> don't want to make kirishima feel left out, so herewego
> kirishima is always the one you can trust. like sure, you can trust all of your friends, buttt, kirishima is the #1 person you go to
> whenever the couches in the common room are crowded, it's normal for you to go over to kirishima. you sit on his lap and he welcomes you with a warm smile, always greeting you with a, "hey babes."
> kirishima, i feel like, would call most of the girls, babe or babes. that's just something they do, so it's something he does. at first, everyone thought you 2 were dating because of the nicknames and sweet gestures. and you do admit that kirishima is very attractive, but you denied everyone's statement of you 2 dating.
sighing as you find no seat yet again, you head towards kirishima with the bowl of popcorn for class movie night.
he has a thin blanket covering him. he smiles as he sees your tired figure and you can't help but softly smile at his goofy grin. you sit yourself on him, adjusting slightly and he pulls the blanket over the both of you.
"hi babes," he quietly greets you, leaning on your shoulder as both of his arms wrap around your waist in a hug. you melt into his touch with a quiet sigh and he places a small kiss on your cheek
> denki. hm.. almost the same as kirishima. some differences, but most people thought you and denki were dating too. and while he is one of your first friends, you're not dating him. damn.
> the lingering stares, constantly needing homework help, him leaving small kisses on your cheek as you do something so mundane. the touchiness and the cringey nicknames. if you were an outsider, you would've thought you 2 were dating. but you're not. sadly..
> he normalizes touching. you didn't realize how touch starved you were until he starts hanging around you. you guys constantly link arms or hold hands. even at group sleepovers, his hand somehow, in his sleep, find your hand as he links them together.
> you even started going to him first, which makes him so ecstatic. he did accidentally set of his quirk on you the first time you hugged him from behind though..-
seeing denki, you smile as you had the idea to go to touch him first. engulf his body in love. that's what friends do, right?
you quietly walk over, not making any footsteps as you slowly wrap your arms around his middle in a hug. you feel jolts of small zaps around your arms and you quickly step back.
"ow- what the-," you rub your arms as they start to feel fuzzy. "ack! sorry y/n, you scared me," denki quickly apologizes as he wraps his arms around you in a warm hug.
"it's ok, just don't do it again babe," you assure. he backs away from the hug, his arms still around you. a smug look replaces his previous concerned expression. "didn't know we were on babe terms now?" he teases. your eyes go wide as you struggle to find words. you bury yourself in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. damnit mina. you really needed to stop picking up her way of talking. i mean, you call everyone babe like she does. that's what friends do. right..?
> ahhh, omg, jirou!! finally, jirou.
> you definitely hangout with her the most. you both have the most inside jokes and you constantly will find yourself laughing at her stupid jokes.
> she's also your go-to girl for any feminine products. yeah, mina keeps pads and tampons with her, but she constantly misplaces it.
> jirou always has her dorm open to you all the time. she has sleeping problems and when you just surprise her with blankets and snacks, she's so grateful that you already knew.
> i feel like you would trust jirou the most when it comes to your body. i mean, everyone in bakusquad is super touchy already, besides bakugo, but jirou is one of the more respectful people.
> like if you needed to change in front of jirou, without hesitation you'll start undressing. jirou either looks away and distracts herself or she changes with you because 9 times out of 10, you're having a sleepover in her dorm. you barely use your dorm at this point.
a colored blob appears in the middle of the room. jirou glances up from her phone to be greeted by you.
"what are you doing here, y/n? it's..," jirou glances at her phone. "2:37 am." she finishes with a yawn.
"and you should be asleep." you state in a motherly manner. before jirou can get a word in, you disappear back into your portal and reappear a few minutes later.
you close the portal as you set down multiple blankets and many snacks on her bed. "i couldn't sleep either, don't worry." you assure her.
"movie night?" jirou asks.
"movie night."
a/n: AHHHH, the long awaited pt.2!! sorry for the wait :))
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appleblueberry-pie · 5 months
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Yan yuuta as a dad🤧🤨?
Despite his seemingly never-ending knowledge on parenting and how to balance his regular life with his life at home, he continuously looks to you for a second-opinion or any sort of advice/leadership when he's not 100% certain on what he's supposed to do.
I guess there would be a certain dynamic going on. You two would switch between being the one doing the chores and school pick-up/drop off with being the one that busies yourself with the children(homework, entertainment, giving them showers, etc).
Yuuta usually gets the kids to listen, but when they really want to put up an attitude and he can't reach to a middle-ground with them, he's looking to you for guidance.
I think he would actually teach the kids basic fighting skills to defend themselves if they ever get into a fight or bullying situation. The only thing he doesn't like about this is he decided to hide it from you, not knowing how you'd feel about certain defense mechanisms. You'd probably be relieved, but he just doesn't want that to constantly be on the back of your mind every time the kids leave for school.
Despite the parent dynamic, he's always the one that gets the groceries. You always make the list and give him direct instructions on what to get and he does as you say every time. There were only a few times he messed up, and despite him acting like it was the end of the world, you always forgave him. It's usually something small like a certain fruit.
He is also the one who usually drives the car. If the whole family is going out, he's the designated driver. The only time you'd take over is if your patience runs out, and no one can argue with you then. He just hands you the keys and lets you silently drive them home.
He's the ice cream dad, you're the smoothie mom.
When the kids are at school and you two are finally alone, he never ever can get what he wants from you until he finishes all possible duties needed to be done around the house. It's probably the quickest you've ever seen him finish any kind of responsibility.
Has his hand on the small on your back every time the two of you go out.
Ever since you two got married and had kids together, you don't let him approach people who hit on you the way he used to.
He used to have an incredible mean mug and would borderline threaten them.
But the move he pulls now is that when you and the sleaze are talking(or you're just barely bearing the company) is he lets the kids run up to you and crowd you. And then he lets the guy's face change before he walks up to you from behind him so he can step back and give all of you space to see what he was trying to fuck up.
They usually scoff or apologize or something stupid like that before walking off.
Even when Yuuta has a long and hard work day, gives the kids dinner, puts them to bed and winds down for the night, he still finds the energy in himself to be able to take care of you. You are his beacon of light and probably one of his only remaining reasons to keep going.
Everything about his life, he admits, sucks outside of his family. And the only reason he can live this luxury he was provided is because you gave him chance you really didn't have to give. And he will forever be grateful for the things you given him and can't repay you for your sacrifices in no other way but his own life.
You are everything he's ever hoped for and if it means giving you the comfort you deserve every single night until he can't no more, then that's exactly what he will do.
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poetlus · 1 month
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ROARING ENGINES — streetracer!dabi x gn!reader
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SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend, a streetracing!Dabi, invites you to take a ride with him, which ends in an annoyingly teasing makeout session.
WARNINGS: unsafe driving, needy dabi (<3), slightly suggestive, reader is able to fit in dabi’s lap with ease— i apologize for the lack of plus-sized inclusivity; however, i couldn’t pass up this request!! i am a minor. do NOT interact if you are a stricly mdni account.
W/C: 1.7k
A/N: oh. my days. i love this so bad. I LOVE THIS SO BAD!!!! this was an amazing experience. one of the scenes in this fic was inspired by this scene in fast n furious. UGH. love. anywho, requested by @sepptember , proofread by @ikn9wyou!! follow auggie and alani. they have wonderful ideas.
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Your boyfriend wasn’t one for showing off— he was reserved. Didn’t care for most people’s opinions. Unless he was on the road. When Dabi’s speeding down the highway, he wants everyone to hear. Especially you.
You were sitting on your apartment couch, the blue light from the TV shining on your face. You weren’t really even watching the show that was on, moreso doom scrolling through various apps— opening and closing them as though they were a fridge and you were hoping more food would magically appear.
Unfortunately, nothing caught your eye.
You let out a loud sigh, changing positions so you were laying down now. That’s when you heard it.
An engine revved from outside of your apartment complex, loud enough to make you wince at the sound. Then, you got a text.
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Butterflies formed in your stomach— an often occurrence when it came to Dabi. Despite him literally being your boyfriend, he never failed to make your stomach do cartwheels any time you even thought about being around him. Your thumbs hovered over your phone, thinking about what to say.
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Within seconds, the man hearted your message, as if he was waiting on the chat for you to respond. Your heart fluttered as you shot up from your spot on the couch, rushing to your bedroom to find something to wear.
After an eternity of searching and creating a mess of clothes on your floor, you had found the perfect outfit. You grabbed your phone and left your apartment, locking the door on your way out.
The elevator ride down to the first floor felt 50 years longer than normal— which was both good and bad; good because you got time to calm your stupid nerves, and bad because you didn’t want to wait to see your boyfriend any longer. As soon as you heard the “ding!”, indicating that the elevator had reached the bottom floor, you practically charged out of the building, looking for Dabi’s car.
There it was, the navy blue Camaro ZL1– bass bumping and engine roaring. That was definitely him. You hurried to the passenger door. Dabi rolled down his tinted windows. His cyan eyes seemingly glowed in the streetlight and you swore you were being seduced.
“Gonna get in?” His slightly raspy voice broke the silence.
You carefully opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Dabi looked at you, awaiting something. You gave him a slightly confused look, likely muddied by the darkness of the night.
“Well? Where’s my kiss, huh?” He asked you, a hint of impatience sewn into his tone. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He huffed, apparently not satisfied.
“What was that about?” You asked him.
“Nothin’.” The white haired man brushed it off and tossed you his phone. “You’re on aux.” He told you, you put on one of your favorite playlists— one that consisted of erotic songs. When you pressed the shuffle button, Poison by Brent Faiyaz began playing.
As the song began, Dabi shifted gears from neutral to drive and carefully pulled away from the cramped street.
His caution didn’t last long, though. As soon as he was out of the packed road, he sped up. His engine revved loudly as he did so and he moved his hand from the stick shift to the knob of the radio. He turned the knob to the right, making the music louder. After adjusting it to his liking, he rested his free hand on your thigh. His other was controlling the wheel, though his attention wasn’t fully on it. He was occupied with you. He watched as you hung your head slightly out of the open window, wind blowing your hair out of your face and giving him a perfect view of your features.
How can a singular human being be so flawless?
The man was enamored by you. In his eyes, you were a spectacle. A trophy that he, somehow, had won. And goddamn, was he proud of his trophy.
You looked to see him staring right back at you, making butterflies erupt yet again. In order to hide your fluster, you snapped your fingers at him.
“Eyes back on the road, Dabi.” He hummed in response and looked forward. You faced towards the window again, feeling the cool air on your cheeks. Dabi sped up as the song ended and the next one played. Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji.
As the engine of his car became white noise, you asked Dabi where you were going.
“Dunno,” He said nonchalantly. “Just driving.” You couldn’t help but smile at Dabi’s voice. You’d play it on repeat if you could.
You began singing along to the radio, making Dabi chuckle. He joined in quietly, unintentionally harmonizing with you.
“Can’t you see? I don’t want to slow dance,” The two of you sang. “In the dark.”
The song continued and you two made conversation, talking about your days and how the two of you missed each other.
“Sorry ‘m so busy, babe.” He apologized. “A lot’s going on with the League right now.” You accepted his apology, because truthfully, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, with you, in this moment.
The conversation carried on for another 20 minutes, and by now, you were out of the city. Flat, dark farmland stretched out as far as the eye could see. You looked up at the sky from your window— without the light pollution, everything was darker, causing the stars to shine brighter. You stared in awe for a moment at the gorgeous things, mesmerized.
Dabi, finally out of city limits, sped up to 160. You could feel your stomach drop as he sped up. You rolled your window up and said, “Dabi, slow down.” The man smirked.
“Why, ya scared?” He sped up to 180 in a matter of seconds.
“Yes, I am!” You retorted. He pouted mockingly.
“Awh, poor thing.” 185. You smack his arm lightly, making him laugh once more. He finally slowed down. Then, he patted his lap, confusing you slightly. “Well? C’mon.”
“Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. “While you’re driving?”
“What??” He asks, trying to sound innocent. “I mean it. C’mere.” His eyes were still fixated on the road.
Slightly awkwardly, you crawled over the center console and into his lap— your back was against the door and your head facing his. You smelled his cologne, a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.
Playfully, you dug your nose into the crook of his neck, trying to breathe in all of his scent. He smiled. “You’re ticklin’ me, Y/N.”
“I can’t help it,” you said with your head still buried. “You smell so good!” Another laugh was shared and it was quiet for the moment, the two of you relishing in one another’s peace. That’s when you got your grand idea.
You were going to tease him.
You planted a light kiss on his collarbone, and then another on his neck, and then another on his jaw. You continued this pattern for a minute or two, giving all of your attention to his neck and jaw. Once you seemed to be done, he looked down owards you, expecting you to kiss his lips, but you didn't. Instead, you kissed his cheek and went back to breathing in his scent.
“Y/N.” He said quietly.
“Hm?”
“My lips.” It was as if he thought you forgot, as if he was reminding you; you didn’t forget, though. You smiled semi-mischievously, realizing he hadn’t picked up on your teasing.
You looked up at him again and acted as though you were going to kiss him. To catch him off guard, you paused right before you did so and pecked the corner of his mouth. His face morphed from content to annoyance.
“What?” You tried to sound pure and innocent, as if you didn’t know what you were doing.
“You know what. Kiss my lips.” You couldn’t hide your smirk as he spoke. He almost sounded needy, like he had to have you kiss his lips. You pretended to think for a second. Then, you kissed the corner of his mouth again. He leaned into you this time, trying to make you kiss his lips, but to no avail. You dodged his efforts and continued to pepper smooches everywhere but his mouth.
Dabi groaned, eyeing you with an even more annoyed look than before.
“I don’t want to beg, Y/N, kiss my lips.” He almost demanded. “Not my neck, not my cheek, my lips.” You let out a laugh.
“But it’s so fun when you beg!”
“It’s not fun for me..” He grumbled. You almost felt bad, like you were actually doing something wrong by not kissing him on the mouth— not that that would stop you. When you wanted to do something, you were determined. And that something just so happened to be riling up your boyfriend.
So, you continued kissing him, getting ever so close to his mouth just to pull away at the last second. You could tell Dabi was getting frustrated, and that just made the experience all the more enjoyable. After a few more failed attempts of trying to make out with you, Dabi sighed loudly and sped up his vehicle once again.
“You are such a brat.” He hissed. “Stop teasing me.”
“Why? Is it working?”
“No— ‘ts not working. Cut it out.” Dabi denied.
“Seems like it is..” You mumbled to yourself.
“Only thing it’s doing is pissing me off.” You smiled smugly and cupped his face in your hand.
“Awh, I’m sorry baby.” You mocked his tone from earlier. Finally, you slowly kissed his lips, this time not pulling away.
Dabi leaned into you, perhaps more needily than he intended. He was starving for your touch. Your soft lips on his. His tongue easily slid into your mouth, intertwining with yours.
This man was yearning for you. You knew he wanted you, but damn, you didn’t know he wanted you this badly.
Your hands ran through Dabi’s surprisingly soft hair, massaging his scalp slightly. He was upset he couldn’t give you all of his undivided attention, what with also having to focus on the road. So, he did what any horny guy would do. He pulled over to the side of the road and effortlessly shifted your hips so now you were straddling him.
“Think it’s time to get you back for what you did, love.” He sighed almost maliciously. You were in for a ride, and you had no one to blame but yourself.
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🏷️’s : @rueclfer , @seneon !
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